Exciting Stuff

So on the topic of changes of pirate names for the kids, I've come to a final decision:


Pirate Munchkin will now be known as Pirate Maiden.

Pirate Baby will now be known as Pirate Mister.



...that is all.  You may now return to your regularly scheduled life.

Cute Speak

This picture has nothing to do with my post.  It's just cute.

I've been meaning to make a list of the cute ways Pirate Baby says things, but I wasn't sure where to put it.  But then I just realized if I put it on my blog, other people can see it and I can always find it.  I've been adding to it here and there for several weeks now and decided it was probably time I posted it.  I make no promises that I won't be adding to it later.

"Too-tines" - Saltine crackers

"Doggy-saur" - Dinosaur - Although now that he has mastered the word "dragon," this has now morphed into "Dragon-saur"

"Baw-kiss" - Box

"Bammage" or "Bammaid" - Bandaid

"Scratch-you" - kitty scratch - as in "Did the kitty scratch you?"  He'll get scratched, then come to show me.  He'll point at it and say "Scratch-you."

*Lots of "scratch-yous" have been covered by "bammages" these days.*

"Mee-mo" - Nemo

Pirate Baby likes to pretend to cook.  He'll get pans and lids and utensils out and start "cooking" on the floor in the kitchen.  I always ask him what he's making.  Usually, it's the kinds of things I make.  But one night, he said he was making cream sauce.  I asked him what the cream sauce was for, and he said "doggy-saur."  So apparently that night, my son made dinosaur with cream sauce.  Sounds tasty!


One of his favorite books is this one:

Or rather, "Gah-Go-Gah-Go," as it is more commonly known at our house.

Pirate Baby and I have different things we do for most of the pages in the book, but these pages in particular are fun for his interesting words.

He likes to point out the colors on the traffic light.  Red and Black.

On this page, the colors are Black and, of course, "Green-ahead".  Because what else would it be?

I've been thinking it's time to change my kids' names on my blog.  Pirate Munchkin is almost 10, and she's much too tall (and grown up - YIKES!) to be considered a "Munchkin" anymore.  And now that he's 3, Pirate Baby isn't a baby anymore.  {holding back tears}  I need to start thinking up new names for them, but in staying with the pirate theme.  Any suggestions?  Keep in mind, my husband is Surfer Pirate, and while I don't talk about myself in the 3rd person, my name here is actually The Pirate Queen (and yes, the "The" is important).

UPDATE:

"Boom-Boom" - gun - after playing with all the Nerf guns at his cousins' house, he's developed this new term.

"Water Botter" - water bottle

"Teeny-Tiny?" - a request for a bite of whatever you're eating - a teeny-tiny bite!

"I can't want it" - I don't want it.

"Snoo Snacks" - fruit snacks

"What's that sound like?" - What's that sound?

Because it sounded like fun

Picture found here.

Clearly, I've been neglecting my blog for a LONG time.  I've probably lost most of my readers.  There was a time when I had constant blog posts going in my head that just needed to be typed out.  I've been in a writing slump, so that just hasn't happened.

I've also been busy.  I have a dear friend who I met through the blogging world who is now a real-life friend.  She started an amazing website, and I've been helping edit the posts on it.  It's incredibly rewarding, and it's an amazing place to go learn and heal through a TON of life's challenges.  Go check it out!  Band Back Together


So, two days ago, I discovered that a new real-life friend has a terribly funny blog, and I've been reading it obsessively every spare minute I have.  As I think I've mentioned before, I can't just start reading a blog from when I discover it.  I have to go to the beginning and read the whole thing.  So I've been doing it with this blog as well.  I just came across a post that sounded like a fun idea.  I've posted part of the story on here before, but I like some of the added details from this idea.

This one is for you, Glamazon!


How did you and your true love meet?
Surfer Pirate and I met on Myspace.  This was back in 2008 when it was okay to say that.  I had been meeting guys through a church related dating site, but wasn't finding The One.  (I actually thought I knew the guy I was supposed to marry, but neither of us was ready for that yet.)  Since everyone I was meeting on the other site lived a long ways away from me, and the one guy in town I was dating was always really busy, I wanted to expand my horizons.  I didn't want to sit home on the weekends, so I started looking elsewhere for some Right Now guys.  When Surfer Pirate sent me a friend request, I was definitely leery.  His profile page was very dark, covered in skulls and scary stuff with a thrash metal playlist.  Not exactly my type.  Plus, I had been burned previously by a random friend request.  So I told this unusual guy that he would need to talk me into it.  He could have decided I wasn't worth the time, but he didn't.  We started sending messages back and forth, and before I knew it, I was laughing myself silly!  Friend Request Accepted!  He was much too funny to not have in my life.  We had our first date a few weeks later, and the rest is history!

What is your favorite physical feature about your beloved? 
Surfer Pirate has beautiful eyes.  I can get lost in them.  He also has a really nice rear end.  It's kind of a toss-up between the two.

What is your favorite personality feature about your lover?
Same thing that won me over in the first place - his sense of humor.  We've had a pretty challenging life together, and his humor is one of the main things that's gotten us through it all.  He's hysterical.  Trust me.

When did you have your first kiss?
Our first kiss.  Now THAT is a fun story.  A little over a month before Surfer Pirate and I had our first date, I had gone out with another guy I had met on Myspace.  He wasn't exactly honest with me about what was going on in his life, and when I found out the truth, I had sent him a text asking why he hadn't just been honest.  He ignored the question, and I moved on with my life.  Not really a big deal.  But then, a month later, without warning, he texted me back - right as Surfer Pirate had arrived at my house.  I apologized to Surfer Pirate, explaining that I had some "unfinished business" to deal with.  He sat down at my kitchen table while I texted back and forth for a few minutes with this other guy.  The last text I got from the guy said "You just need to get over it and move on."  Annoyed that he hadn't figured out that I had from the fact that he hadn't heard from me in a month, I texted back "I already did."  Surfer Pirate and I had talked on the phone previously about kissing.  He'd told me he was a really good kisser.  So, when I put my phone down on the counter after that last text, Surfer Pirate's kissing abilities were all I could think about.  I took a deep breath, turned to face him, said "Okay, I need to know."  Before he knew what had hit him, I crossed the room to where he was sitting, bent down, and kissed him!  He was completely startled by it, but he proved that he was telling me the truth earlier.  He's an excellent kisser!

What do they do that gets on your last nerve?
Being a housewife, I do at least 90% of the cooking.  I am very possessive of my kitchen.  But sometimes, Surfer Pirate likes to experiment in the kitchen.  Sometimes, it's wonderful, sometimes it is much more his tastes than mine.  But he ALWAYS leaves me a big mess to clean up.  Pans and dishes and seasonings and cooking tools EVERYWHERE.  The stove will be covered in spilled food from his over-zealous stirring.  He knows it drives me crazy, and I know that I'll probably never see him clean it up.

When did you know they were 'the one'?
For him, it was really simple.  He knew as soon as I walked down my front stairs and across my front lawn to meet him that I was The One.  I took much longer to convince.  Like I said before, I thought I knew who I was supposed to marry.  I was just waiting for both of us to feel like the time was right.  Surfer Pirate and I were very different from each other.  While I knew he was an amazing person, he just wasn't what I was looking for.  As time passed, I fell in love with him.  I didn't want to acknowledge it to myself because I still didn't think it was a forever thing.  But then something significant happened.  My sister, who had passed away when he and I had only been together for a couple months, started appearing to him in spirit.  She seemed to be watching out for him.  It hit me, "Why would my sister be worried about some random guy in my life?  There has to be more than just a short-term relationship here."  So I allowed myself to feel how much I loved him.  He had talked about wanting to marry me, but I told him I couldn't say yes until I'd prayed about it.  He was patient while I waited for the Lord to answer me.  The answer was yes, of course.  I was just the last one to figure that out.   :)

What sets them apart from other guys/girls you had dated in the past?
He's honest.  Not to say every guy I dated was a complete liar, but the vast majority of them were.  (One of my very best friends is actually an ex-boyfriend, and I always know I can trust him.)  But there is a level of honesty that Surfer Pirate and I have that I've never had with anyone.  We trust each other completely and know that we can always rely on each other's loyalty.


So there you go.  There's more of our love story.  I don't know what I would do without my sweet, funny, handsome man!

Missing My Girl

Her pirate name was Miss Dampier.

Not her real name.  Obviously, my son's real name isn't Pirate Baby.

She was a great dog.

Overly protective of her family, seriously neurotic, easily depressed, and spoiled to death by her family who loved her fiercely.

She was only 5 years old when we had to make one of the hardest decisions ever.


We'd already had a really crummy holiday season.  Surfer Pirate had had some scary medical issues and was in the hospital just before Christmas.  We had spent almost every moment of the day at the hospital with him, even sleeping there.

It happened the day before Surfer Pirate got to go home.

We were home, getting some snacks and things to keep the kids entertained at the hospital.  I had let the dogs out.  They'd been so good about all the time they were having to spend in the house without their family.  I was really busy getting things together and had lost track of time.  I wasn't fully sure how long they had been out, but they were always good about barking at the door when they were ready to come in.

I went out to start the truck so it could warm up for a few minutes before we left.  What I saw will haunt me for a long, long time.

Major Stede was on the porch.  Miss Dampier was on the ground in front of the porch, rolling oddly on her back, with blood in the snow by her.

She couldn't use her back legs.

The next hour or so are kind of a blur now.  I remember half dragging her 65 pound body into the house and laying her on the floor in the living room.  We wrapped her in a blanket.  I didn't know what to do because the nearest vet was an hour away and it was after hours.  I called a family friend in Montana who is a vet.  His opinion was that I should get her in right away.

I called the vet nearest to us, and he said he would be waiting for us there.

Instead of going to the hospital to be with my husband, I found myself driving on icy winter roads in dangerously cold winds to take my dog to a different kind of hospital.  The drive was traumatic as I worried about her and tried to keep her from thrashing around.  She fell off the seat of the truck once, and I'd had to stop to readjust her.  It was terrifying and heartbreaking all at the same time.

The vet was wonderful.  With his thick white beard, I'm convinced he's the real Santa Claus.  We had the kids wait in the front of the office while he crawled around on the floor assessing what was wrong with my sweet girl's legs.

"She's been shot," he finally said.

He shaved the fur from her left thigh and showed me the entry wound.  You could clearly see the angle of the hole, leading directly to her spine.  Her spinal cord was severed.

I alternated between speaking softly to my dog and nodding as he told me our options.

Many dogs live with spinal cord injuries.  She could be fitted with a wheelchair.  We would need to decide if we could handle the commitment of taking care of a dog who couldn't even handle her own bodily functions.  At the time, I was willing to do anything for her.  She'd been such a good girl, and she was my husband's best friend.

The other option was of course, having her put to sleep.  The more I thought about it, and after discussing it with Surfer Pirate the next day, that really was our only option.  While there was no question whether or not we loved her enough to take care of that kind of major commitment, we knew we couldn't do that to her.

You see, she was an athlete.  Watching her run was a thing of beauty.  It was like watching a champion horse racer, all muscle and grace.  And she loved to swim.  She was one of those dogs who if she was near water, she would automatically start paddling with her feet - even if she wasn't touching the water.  Surfer Pirate would hold her up out of the water and her feet would still be going.

We couldn't take running and swimming away from her.

Surfer Pirate couldn't handle going with me to sign the official papers.  It would break his heart to have to give her up, and I knew seeing her struggling to stand on her then-useless legs would devastate him.  I took Major Stede with me as I drove back there on that cold and dreary day.

She was calm when I entered the room.  I hurried to her because she tried to get up and come to me when she saw I was there.  I sat on the floor next to her, talking softly to her, stroking her face and letting her kiss me as much as she wanted.  I told her what a good girl she was.  I told her how sorry I was that she couldn't walk, but that she was going to sleep soon and when she woke up, she would be in heaven.  I told her that she would be able to run and swim whenever she wanted.  She wouldn't be sad or scared anymore.  I told her we would be there to join her before she knew it.

When my heart couldn't take it anymore, I got up to leave.  I told her I loved her and I left the room.  Santa Claus was out at a farm checking on some cows, but the other vet asked me if I wanted to be there when they did the procedure.  I couldn't take it.  I had to leave.  She had tried to follow me out of the room and I could still hear her crying for me.  I signed the papers and left before I could break down into tears.

I cried into Major Stede's neck when I got back in the truck, until I could pull myself together enough to drive home.  I'm glad I brought him with me.


That was about a month ago.  We still have no idea who shot our dog and left her to die - or why they did it.  I had walked the trail she had left in the snow that horrible night.  I'll spare you the drama left in those tracks., but I stood out there in the middle of the road where she had first fallen and screamed obscenities into the wind.  I told the person who did it that they are going to find themselves in a special place in hell for what they did to our sweet, loving girl.

We've had so much going on that I've been too busy to really mourn her.  Until today.  I've thought about her a lot and shed many tears.  Things are just so different without her.

Bugs

We've been very busy lately.  I've been lovingly tending to my garden all summer.  And then I had to process all the vegetables I harvested.

I had forgotten how much work that is!

That's left me very little energy or brain power to write on my blog.  My poor little readers, few though you are.  I have neglected you, and I'm sorry.

So I have a cute story for you today.


Yesterday, Pirate Baby and I were running lots and lots of errands.

One of them led us to the post office.  Our post office is a cute old building with  lots of old wood and charm and even gates on the windows for when they're closed.

And it echos.

Which means everyone hears EVERYTHING that happens in there.

As I was standing in line waiting my turn (which in this little town means waiting for one person), an Asian beetle landed on my finger.

After the major infestation that we had of them last year, they are far from my favorite bugs.  

Plus, it startled me.

So I flicked it off my finger and it landed on the floor.

I pointed it out to Pirate Baby.  "Look!  There's a bug!"

He grinned and watched it run around.  We laughed as it scurried as fast as its little legs could carry it across the floor.  

Next thing I knew:

CRUNCH!

Pirate Baby stomped on it.  Then, he pointed at the bug and said "Bug dead."

...and that's when I noticed that the clerk, the customer being helped, and the new customer who had just come in behind us had all turned at the sound and were now laughing.

That's my boy!

*Edited* - Note to self - look at previous posting before publishing new blog entries.  I repeated my words and my pictures in this entry.  Sheesh!

Babyhood

My poor neglected readers.  This last year has been super busy - in good ways, thankfully!  I've had so many things going on that my poor little blog has gone ignored.  I had a moment in regards to my precious little boy that I thought I would share.

But first I have to show you how much this child loves our pets.  Especially the kittens.  I think he likes that they're little enough for him to pick up.  ...unfortunately for them.  There is a lot of "Pirate Baby, be gentle with the kitty."  "Pirate Baby, don't hold the kitty by his neck."  Pirate Baby, don't throw the kitty.  Put him down SOFTLY." 

He's catching on.  I had to grab the camera and catch this sweet moment of him snuggling with one of the kittens.  I was so proud of how gentle he was being.  

That's pure joy right there.  ...from the child.  The kitten has very clearly had enough snuggling and is saying "Help me!"

We have been blessed with the most wonderful cool days almost the whole summer.  I'm talking high 60's, low 70's.  I believe it's our reward for the very long winter we had this year.  Great temperatures up until this last week, when it suddenly jumped to a very muggy, humid 90.  This weekend, it was much too hot to send the kids outside, so I sent them upstairs to play in their rooms.  

Pirate Munchkin decided to play dress-up with her little brother.  (I'm so glad she didn't put him in one of her princess or fairy costumes.)  Isn't Pirate Baby the cutest little pirate ever?

I have a lot of friends who have kids around the same age as Pirate Baby.  Potty training is a regular topic now.  Most of the kids are either in the middle of or have even mastered it by now.

My son?  Not even interested yet.

We're not the only ones.  One of my friends from church has a little boy who is 2 weeks younger than my boy.  She was so glad to know that we weren't there yet either.  She has asked her youngest (who has the most incredible blue eyes you've ever seen, by the way!) if he wants to use the potty.  He looks at her and says "No.  I a baby."  

I've mentioned to Pirate Baby that one day he'll use the potty like the rest of us - preparing him for the idea when he's ready.  But he really doesn't care.  He likes to be in the bathroom with his father or me, but it still seems to just be about companionship.  

I'm in no rush.

When my Pirate Munchkin was his age, I had her little sister's diapers to change as well.  With all those diapers in the house, potty training was a much bigger priority then.  But this time?  Meh.  What's another diaper?  

Yesterday, as I cupped my son's perfect little chin in my hand to look at his sweet face, I realized something.  While life has a tendency to rush by, I've been greatly blessed.  The last couple of years have passed by fairly slow.  I waited 11 years for this little boy, and his babyhood has been a long, beautiful gift.  So if he's not ready to be a full-fledged Big Boy yet, I'm good with that.

I'm glad to have my baby be a baby for just a little bit longer.

The Kitty House

It started with this guy.
Captain Kitty

(using Pirate Munchkin as a pillow).

We had a bit of a mouse problem, so we got another cat to help out.  

(She doesn't have a pirate name yet, so you'll just have to admire her cuteness without a name.)

We were told she was a good mouser, but she just laid around all the time.  

We figured we had a "dud" cat.

Turns out, cat pregnancy is much like human pregnancy - very little energy!

When she started showing, we figured our male must have knocked her up as soon as she came to live with us.

Nope.  The kittens came two weeks early - Captain Kitty isn't the kitty "Baby Daddy".

Aren't they cute and tiny?  

There were 3 originally.  Sadly, the solid gray kitten didn't make it through the first night.

The two tiny, newborn kittens quickly stole our hearts!

They've been growing, as kittens tend to do.

They'll be 6 weeks old on Monday, and they're extremely playful now!

Here's our little female, taking a moment from killing my hand to pose adorably. 

Our very fluffy and very ferocious little male.

I often say of him "He's so fluffy, I'm gonna die!!"

We were concerned at first with letting Captain Kitty near the babies.

We had heard male cats will try to kill kittens - especially ones that aren't theirs.

As you can see, we didn't need to worry.

He lets everyone just crawl all over him. 

He loves the kittens and they love him!

There was the update.  

Now I have to tell you a story.

*Disclaimer:  The weak of heart may want to skip this part and go back to looking at the cute kitten pictures.

Tonight, I was watching a movie.  Captain Kitty was curled up on my lap sleeping, like he usually does at night when the house is quiet.  Our little mama cat was hunting something.  I figured it was just a fly, but she was really intent about it.  At one point, I heard some rather violent pouncing sounds coming from the corner of the room - almost behind the couch.  A few minutes later, she ran past me.  

I didn't think much of it until I heard the squeaking noise coming from the bathroom!

The sound woke Captain Kitty, and we went to investigate.

Mama cat had cornered a mouse!

I quickly assessed that she had discovered the mouse behind the couch, caught it, and for some reason carried it off to the bathroom.

Thank goodness, because I could shut the door and make sure it was dealt with in that smaller space!

Let's not even discuss how disturbed I was by the concept that the cat had caught a mouse in my living room!  Not in the basement or the attic where I knew we already had a mouse problem, but in my living room!  Where my kids play!  The room right next to my kitchen!

{shudder}

Anyway, I shut the door and stood guard in front of the doorway.  The gap under the door was the only place where I could see it having room to escape.  

Captain Kitty stood by and watched as our little mama cat chased the mouse back and forth around the room.  A few times, I had to scare it away from the door as it tried to head my way {shudder again}.  Eventually, the veteran mouse hunter seemed to get annoyed with her that she wasn't getting the job done.  

I realized I could almost hear the conversation going on between them:

Captain Kitty:  Here.  Let me help you.  When the mouse holds still, he's hoping you'll think he's dead and that you'll leave him alone.  You need to poke him so he'll move.

Mama:  Like this?

CK:  Yes.  Sometimes I little smack on the head is good too - like this.

(as the mouse scurries back and forth across the room)

CK:  Okay, now you're letting it go on too long.  He's not getting tired enough.  So you grab him like this,  (picks the mouse up with his mouth) ann holth him tight in yo teef like thith.  (puts the mouse down)  Now you try.

M:  Crud.  He got away again.  Hang on.  (she catches the mouse and holds it gently in her mouth) Like thith?

CK:  I don't think you're crushing down enough with your teeth.  Put him down and let me look at him.

(she puts the mouse down and it runs off again)

CK:  That's what I thought.  You need to hold tighter so you can feel his little bones crushing.  Let me grab him again and I'll show you.  I'll just injure him a little so you can get the idea.  You'll want to do it harder than this when you do it next time.  (he catches the mouse again)  Now.  You wanth to squith him with yo teef fo a few secondth.  (puts the mouse down).  See how there's a tiny bit of blood and he's laying on his side like that?  I only hurt his leg.  He's playing chicken.  He'll run again in a minute.

(mouse runs away)

M:  Okay.  I see.  (chasing the mouse around the room)  Even injured, this guy is fast!

CK:  That's why you have to make sure they're really hurt before you put them down.

M:  Got him!  (grabbing the mouse)  So I'm squithing him tighter.  I thee whath you mean!  I can feelth hith bonth bweaking.  (dropping the mouse)  How's that?

(mouse is alive, but clearly very injured)

CK:  Very good!  So now you can play with it if you want or just eat it right away.

Captain Kitty sits by and watches Mama play with the mouse for a while, tossing it in the air, kicking it, biting it for - I'm not kidding - a good ten minutes!  I've never really witnessed a cat killing its pray before, but I'd heard what it was like.  It was really brutal.  Once I knew the mouse wasn't going anywhere, I debated leaving the room, but I was afraid she would take it out of the bathroom and leave it somewhere.  If she wasn't going to eat it, I wanted to be able to flush it.  Plus I was morbidly fascinated.  So I stayed. 

Meanwhile, Captain Kitty was still watching her play with the mouse, and started looking annoyed again.

CK:  Seriously, are you ever going to eat that thing?

M:  (growling)  If you're going to act like that, I WON'T save you part like I'd planned.

CK:  I'm just saying!

M:  (growling again)  No.  Get out.  This one is mine.

And that's when I took Captain Kitty and left the room - closing the door behind us.

I'm proud to say when she started meowing at me to let her out of the bathroom, I was surprised to see that she hadn't left a single trace of that mouse anywhere in the room!  Good girl, not making me clean up mouse guts!

And who says living in the country is boring?

Projects

Sorry for the implied bad language here, but I'm pretty sure that's what my cats were thinking about me the last couple days.

It all started with a printer.

Our cheapo printer died - because it was cheap.  My really nice printer/scanner/copier/fax was obsolete.  So as a combined Mother's Day/Father's Day gift, my mom got us a new printer/scanner/copier/fax.

Which meant I could FINALLY get around to doing a project I've wanted to do since I wrote this post last summer.  (A collection of the pictures my sister took on her honeymoon in Paris.)

I love how it turned out:

I hadn't fully decided where I was going to hang it, but I needed to get it hung somewhere.  My new kitty (have I mentioned the new kitty yet?  I need to do that) is really good at jumping up on counters and knocking things over.  I didn't want the glass to get broken.  So I hung it up over the lovely 80's plaid wallpaper in the dining room.  

The wallpaper the landlady told me I was more than welcome to take down.

The wallpaper that had a little torn spot.

Right by where I was hanging the picture.

The spot that I started picking at last night.

And didn't stop until I'd pulled all the wallpaper off the walls!

The before picture.  Don't mind the bare bulb hanging from the fan there.  It had a weird wicker basket looking shade that drove me crazy.  I'm going to be replacing it eventually.  But there is the lovely plaid wallpaper.

All I was peeling off was the front half of the wallpaper - the decorative part.  But it came off really easy!  What was left was the glue side of the paper that made the room look the walls had once been white, but 30 years of heavy smoking had yellowed it.

Blech.

I probably should have taken a mid-project picture at that point, but I didn't.

I was telling my mom about the remaining paper and my plans to remove it.  She said "No, no.  All you need is hot water in a squirt bottle and a plastic scraper."  So while the kids were outside playing, I went to work.

I worked one strip at a time, spraying hot water on the whole thing, then gave it a few minutes to soak in.  Then I started scraping and peeling.  It worked like magic!

The entire project from the time I worked on it last night plus today's work was only about an hour and a half!

And now it looks...

...worse than it did with even the yellowed paper.

Double blech.

But that's okay.  Some paint will fix that.  But I can't do that until I get my garden planted.  So we have to live with the weird multi-colored walls for a week or so.  We'll live.


Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go start digging my garden!

Homemade Mayonnaise

 We currently only have one reliable vehicle.  My beloved old Blazer has issues and sits in the driveway most of the time.  Unless I have a lot of errands to run, I'm pretty much home all the time because Surfer Pirate needs the pickup to get back and forth to work.

Which has kind of forced me to be creative when I run out of things.

One day when I wanted to make sandwiches, I realized we were out of mayonnaise   Luckily, a few years ago, my mother had put together a cookbook with her favorite recipes in it, and I was pretty sure there was a recipe in there for homemade mayonnaise.  I had made it once years ago, just for the novelty of it, but I never really had a NEED for it.

Mom learned how to make it at a church function back when she and my dad were still married.  He loved it so much that as far as I know, it's STILL the only mayonnaise he uses.

It's seriously easy and inexpensive, so I thought I would share the recipe:


Blender Mayonnaise

2 Tbsp Vinegar
1/2 tsp Salt
1/2 tsp Mustard
1 Egg
1 Cup Oil

 Get all your ingredients together because this goes REALLY fast.

Put the vinegar, salt, mustard, egg and about 1/4 cup of the oil in the blender.

Start blending on your highest speed.

Slowly pour in the rest of the oil while the blender is running.  It will get very thick as the oil is added.

Pour it all into a jar, and you're done!  It will thicken a little as it cools in the refrigerator.
This recipe makes about a 1 1/2 cups of mayo. 

Just make sure you always keep it in the fridge as soon as you're done using it.  With no preservatives, it will will spoil very quickly!

Country Girl?

I always believed I would thrive living in a small town.  I get claustrophobic in traffic and don't like crowds.

But even more than small towns, I always wanted to live in the country.  My ultimate dream was to be so far away from my nearest neighbors that I could stand on the roof and not see them.

I have that now.

And I love it.

But let's face it.  After 30+ years of living in cities, living in the country for a few months isn't going to make a lot of difference.

Case in point:

I made a quick run into town to get snacks for my hard working man.  As I was headed down our dirt road, I saw an animal on the side of the road.  It looked like it was eating something.  I had seen a badger about a mile and a half from our place last fall and wondered if that's what this was.

Whatever it was, it was pretty brave.  A truck driving right past it didn't even deter it from its meal.

I really wanted to see what it was, so I slowed down, checked to make sure no one was behind me, and started backing slowly up the road.

When I got there, it hadn't moved.  I turned the truck so the headlights were shining on the animal, and then opened the door and stood out the door to look at it.  (I wasn't taking any chances on being attacked by an angry badger!)





Dead raccoon.




But was it really dead?  Was it just injured?  Was it going to lunge at me?

So I grabbed a couple of rocks from the road to throw at it.

Yup.

It was dead.



So... um... yeah...

That's me.

The brave "Country Girl" throwing rocks at a dead raccoon.

Lots of Love

That's my Mommy when she first became a mommy.  That's her holding my sister way back in the very groovy and funky early 70's.  I would use a picture of her holding me as a baby, but I don't have one on this computer right now.

And yes, I'm 37 years old and call my mother "Mommy."  Why?  Because she is The Best Mom Ever.  You can try to argue that and say your mom is The Best, but you would be wrong.  And considering how many of my friends are trying to get my mom to adopt them, I'm not the only one who shares that opinion.

Considering that I have ZERO concept of time these days (what year is it now?) I totally forgot that Mother's Day was coming up this soon and didn't leave money in my budget to get anything for my sweet mom.  Normally, I would buy her a corsage.  It's a traditional thing.  On Mother's Day, my mom wears a fresh, pretty corsage to church.  And I feel bad that I can't afford to do that for her this year.  She deserves something special.


Although, she did buy us a new printer as a combined Mother's Day/Father's Day gift this year.  Maybe I could print some paper flowers and make a corsage?  What do you think, Mom?

It wouldn't get there on time for church this Sunday, but it's the thought that counts, right?


Instead, I will give her my words.

My mom had grand plans for her future when she was younger.  She wanted 12 kids, and she wanted to be home with them all day.  But that's not what happened.  She married my dad and had two kids.  And then they divorced.  She found herself as a single parent, trying to raise two kids and pay the bills all on her own.  No chance to be home all day with us, baking cookies and reading stories to us.

And even though things didn't go the way she planned, I think she did an amazing job.  My sister was a National Merit Scholar and went on to follow Mom's footsteps choosing teaching as her chosen profession.  I was an honor roll student and provided my mom with the two cutest grandkids there ever was!  (Don't argue.  I already proved my point about my mom being The Best.  I know what I'm talking about.)  I also have followed my mom's footsteps in being able to live the dream she always wanted.  I'm home all day with my kids, baking cookies and reading stories to them.

Through the years, my mom always did great things for my sister and me.

Like making Apricot Tapioca Pudding for us.  Which is definitely a genetic thing because Surfer Pirate and Pirate Munchkin don't like it, but Pirate Baby and I can't get enough!  It's amazing and delicious and now that I'm thinking about it, I might have to make some today.

She took us to Jackson Hole, Wyoming every summer to visit our grandparents.  As an adult, I know she did that because she couldn't afford to take us other places, and she needed the support and love of her wonderful parents.  But to us, that was the greatest adventure!  We got to drive through Yellowstone Park, with all of its magnificence.  We got to go swimming in the lakes in Teton Park.  We went to the Shoot-Outs in Downtown Jackson.  We made forts with the neighbor kids out of the bushes near the houses.  Grandpa would get us tickets to ride the Alpine Slide.  We stood on the deck with our cousins watching the fireworks every 4th of July.  I can't even imagine a better place for kids to spend their summers.

She always listened and always had good advice.  Some of my very favorite memories were of the times the three of us would pile on to Mom's bed and just talk for hours.

My mom taught me the love of reading.  She read to me when I was growing up, and I read to my children.  She could often be found sitting quietly in her room, with a book in her hands.  I too can often be found off by myself with a book in my hands.

She taught me that my Heavenly Father loves me.  She taught me the importance of being faithful to your beliefs even when life gives you challenges.  She taught me how to serve others.

My mother taught me how to love.  She taught me how to cherish my children.  She showed me through her own wonderful example what a mother is.


I'm sorry I wasn't able to send you to church with gardenias or orchids this year, Mom.  But I wanted you to know just how much I love and appreciate you.  Your love and support have gotten me through so many tough times, and I am PROUD to call you My Mother.  My Sweet Mommy.  My Best Friend.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!  I love you!

Nine? How is this possible??

My crazy, silly, fun Pirate Muchkin is 9 years old!  How did this happen?

She's also apparently part reindeer, but that's beside the point.

I thought I might show some pictures of her through the years so you can see how much fun it is raising this little girl.  Plus, I've hardly done any pictures of my kiddos on here lately, so it's about time, right?

Also, you'll have to forgive me for the gaps in this collection of pictures.  I'm limited to just what is on this computer right now.  I haven't moved everything over from my old laptop yet.

Wearing my sandals.

Laughing.

This is one of my favorite pictures.  She had been in her room for a while and was much too quiet.  I went to check on her and found her like this.  I have no idea how she managed to get Raggedy Ann onto her back like that!

The Raggedy Ann & Andy dolls were made by my mom.  My sister made the quilt.  Don't you just love her little piggie tails?

I love those little feet!

Her 3rd birthday.  (Wow that was a crappy camera!)

 Cute little girl in a polka-dot dress.

My brown-eyed girl.

Little Princess

So grown up with her first backpack!  (Back then, she called it her Pack-Pack.)

She loves animals (especially her cat)

...and her little brother.

I love you, my little rock star!