Archive for July 3, 2012

Sure Is Quiet Around Here–For Now

The grandkids have gone home with Mommy for the 4th of July. We’ll get them again Thursday morning, then Mommy will take them home Friday night.

I always make these grandiose plans about What We Will Accomplish This Summer but somehow they never seem to come to fruition. They’re written plans, too, so I’ve got no excuse. This summer’s written plans are:

1) Install better roof ventilation and attic fan.
2) Put up fence to keep sheep, ducks, dog, and chickens outta flowers.
3) Replant the flowers and shrubberies eaten by ducks, sheep, and chickens, and dug up by dog.
4) Replace approximately 5 acres’ worth of woven wire fencing and fenceposts (when the temp is 95F with high humidity, of course).
5) Re-shingle the back roof.
6) Repaint house inside and out.
7) Turn back room into workshop for small business.
8) Start making stuff for small business.
9) Fill freezer with most of the friggin’ flower-destroyin’ poultry running around.

Well, something tells me that may have been a tad overoptimistic for eight weeks, especially since four of said weeks are over, and we’ve only gotten item #1 on the agenda mostly finished, and we’ve barely started item #9.

I don’t think we’ll suddenly shift into overdrive from underdrive in the next four weeks! I had forgotten how much attention a 1-year-old child needs. If I take my evil eye off of her for a SECOND she’s getting into something she shouldn’t be. I must be a sight to behold just cookin’ in the kitchen. It’s stir, whirl around to locate Zoe visually, stir, whirl, stir, whirl, measure, dump, mix, whirl….wuh oh. “ZOE? ZOE! Do NOT lick the knife!” “ZOE! Do NOT throw the forks into the trash!”

I tried taking her outside with me so I could at least maybe get some feeding chores done, but quickly found out that the addition of Zoe meant that two hours with the livestock would stretch into five or six hours with the livestock. “Zoe! Get away from the fireants!” “Zoe! Do NOT eat the sheep poop!” “ZOE! Do not chase the ducks into the giant mud puddle!”

Poor little girl! She’s going to think her last name is Do Not. It is very hard for me to keep a straight face when that little face grinning up at me in defiance looks exactly like I used to.

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