Goose Widow

November 19 marked the opening weekend for goose hunting. The three month hunting season means I will have to listen to an alarm clock go off every weekend at 3 am. The first month is rough. Sometimes I have a hard time falling back to sleep. That makes for a really long day with two kids.

During this three month period, I become a weekend widow. Even after my Handy Man comes home in the afternoons, he is worthless. He plops himself down in front of the television watching football with the lids of his eyes. I am on my own for cooking, cleaning, and child care. I am a weekend widow.

You would think after all these years that the guys would have everything they need for hunting. Strangely enough, fall also marks regular deliveries from our UPS guy. He tells me every year what a nice wife I am and what a lucky man my husband must be. After all, he knows that all those Cabela's boxes hold magical treasures inside.

There is more preparation put into this three month season than you could ever imagine. Well, unless you are a goose hunter and then you can completely relate.

In years past, we have spent countless nights flocking decoys. (Yes! I said WE... funny how I get wrangled into these projects.) Countless nights because he has like 25 dozen decoys - that's about 300 plastic birds my friends. This literally involves painting the heads and necks of the decoys black and then dobbing black fuzz all over them. It is messy and smelly. That black fuzz gets everywhere! In my opinion, when they are all finished they look exactly the same as they did before. Supposedly these big dumb birds can tell the decoys aren't perfectly real if they aren't perfectly flocked. I am sorry but from 100 feet in the air I doubt it. Not to mention, I have seen decoys in those magazines that look like black trash bags on legs.

I have tried to explain to my husband the powers of marketing but he doesn't want to hear it.

Over the last few years I am pretty confident that we have paid for at least three college educations for the Cabela's owner's kids. 

The last few years my husband and his friends have rented hunting grounds up north.

The guys pay some farmer to dig these big pits in his corn field. They get to store their hunting trailer on the land all season as well. Yes, they have an entire trailer just for goose hunting. Do you know how much room 300 plastic birds take up? They get up at 3 am to drive to the field in order to set up 300 plastic birds before the sun comes up. The guys then sit for hours, and hours, and hours in these pits and wait for the geese to come to them. They sit there every weekend throughout the months of November to February. They sit there through wind, snow, and below freezing weather.

I think they are crazy.

This is why I don't go goose hunting.

This year the guys decided to build fancy lids for their goose pits. This was a project that lasted all weekend. From what I could tell, it was a lot of standing around, two trips to the hardware store, and several trips up to the fridge for beer. Yep, it's hunting season all right!

 
Two-by-fours were laid out and assembled

 

Looks like someone went shopping at Cabela's for these new fancy pop-up lid do-hickey magiggers.

Ummm boys, I think you measured wrong...

 

Yeah, yeah, back to the house. What do I know?!?! 

Once assembled, they all needed a coat of paint and some artistic detailing. The goal I assume is to blend into the field. Hopefully it's a big, brown, dirt field.

Once the lids are dry, load them up on the trailer cause it's hunting time!

 

It took the boys an entire day just to get everything set up.

The real hunting took place Thanksgiving morning. 

Unfortunately, the weather was too nice all weekend and they never got a shot. Great for the holiday weekend, not so great for hunting season. 

Good news, you have three whole months to sit in your goose pit all day and stare up at the sky!

Tangled

My beautiful niece turned three today. A wonderful end to a fabulous holiday weekend.

Thanksgiving was quieter this year, just my mom, mother-in-law and my immediate family. We ate way too much all day and I am pretty sure I consumed over 5,000 calories in one sitting.

Friday, my sister and brother-in-law came up from the Springs. My nieces have gotten so big! The youngest is hell on wheels - I thought I was in trouble!

The boys entertained themselves with hours of Guitar Hero in the basement. My father-in-law built a home theater a few years ago and it is the perfect set up for a jam session, so I have been told. The hens sat around the kitchen table clucking. There is plenty of family gossip this time of year. All the kids ran a muck. It was quite enjoyable.

We ate more food.

My mother-in-law makes the best pumpkin cookies. I am not a huge fan of anything pumpkin flavored. Bit oh how I love these cookies! I think I ate half the batch on my own. I ate them socially and politely. When no one was looking, I engulfed them shamelessly in a glorious caloric frenzy.

I plan to go to the gym Sunday.

This was a no nap zone all weekend. Well, unless you were Handy Man who was up every morning at 3 am for goose hunting. (Another story for another time.) The toddlers refused to nap for three days. By four each afternoon, it was revenge of the brat pac.

They only get to see each other once or twice a year so we tend to look the other way.

The finale was a three-year-old princess birthday party.

I know what won't be on my Christmas shopping list for our Brown Eyed Girl. The new 'Tangled' doll that sings to you when you wave a magic wand in front of her dress is... SO ANNOYING!!!

I loved spending the weekend with Handy Man's family. The kids enjoyed it most of all. I was truly thankful for every minute.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Now let's decorate for Christmas!!!

Note to parents of toddler girls, do not buy this toy! Or just take the batteries out immediately!

The Things We Save

I would never call myself a hoarder, but I definitely fit into some sort of "pack rat" category. I don't think I intentionally collect anything particular. However, I do have collections of certain things.

For instance, as a girl - like every horse crazy girl - I collected Breyer model horses. I wasn't the extremist who never took the models out of the box, or even saved the boxes for that matter. I played with them. The neighbor girl and I would stuff our horses into pillow cases and carry them back and forth between our houses like little Santa Clauses on Christmas Eve.

I still have all my Breyers. A few scattered around the house for decoration, the rest eagerly waiting for when my Brown Eyed Girl is old enough to play with them.

In the late 90's I was overwhelmed by the Beanie Baby craze. I loved those darn little bean bag critters.

At some point in college, I realized I was destined to be the crazy cat lady surrounded in Beanie Babies. For my own social success, I decided it was time to stop the insanity and box the critters up - of course I still have them... tag protectors on every one, carefully wrapped in plastic bags, and stored in Rubbermade tubs.

Someday they might be worth a fortune, right?!?!

I know I am a clothes whore. I have a complete wardrobes ranging from full term pregnancy to thirty pounds lighter than now.

My goal weight.

Curse childbirth and the secretary spread!

I have a hard time parting with things.

Like clothes I know I will never wear again.

Memorabilia from college.

Bath gels from holidays past - way past.

Impractical shoes - some of which I don't know why I bought them in the first place.

Our Brown Eyed Girl's masterpieces.

My Handy Man thinks I have a problem.

All of these things are completely reasonable as I try to convince him.

Okay, maybe the Beanie Babies should visit EBay.

However after last weekend's new furniture adventure, I don't think he has room to talk.

Someone has been toting his headgear around since Junior High.

And he thinks I have a problem!

Acorn Cookies

This is a fun and easy - a little time consuming - treat for the fall weather and Thanksgiving Holiday. A perfect balance of sweet and salty!

You will need a bag of Hershey Kisses.

A box of Bite Sized Vanilla Wafers.

Pretzel Sticks.

About a cup of milk chocolate chips.

It usually works out that a bag of Hershey Kisses will be an adequate "batch" to make. Start by unwrapping all of the Hershey Kisses. This is labor intensive and messy.

I recommend turning up the radio, and enjoying a glass of wine. Should you need to taste test the freshness of your Kisses, it pairs nicely with a glass of red anything!

Once your chocolates are unwrapped, lay out some vanilla wafers - bottom side up - and heat your chocolate chips in the microwave. In a microwavable safe dish, make sure to stir the chips every 15-30 seconds to allow everything to melt evenly.

Once you have your chips melted you are ready to assemble!

Place a semi-generous amount of melted chocolate on the bottom side of each Kiss and adhere them to the bottom side of the vanilla wafers.

Great activity for the little ones as well.

Set aside to allow the chocolate to cool and harden.

  

While they set, break the pretzel sticks into small pieces - about a half inch in length.

 
Next you will attach the stems to your acorns. Dip one end of the tiny pretzel pieces into the chocolate and adhere to the center of the other side of the vanilla wafer. You may need to be a little generous with the chocolate to get it to stick.

Note: don't use super hot chocolate for this step. Your pretzels will keep falling over on you. The melted chips should not need reheated. But if you got distracted while the first step was cooling, you may need to reheat the chocolate a bit.You want a thicker consistency rather than smooth melted chocolate.

 

Once you start assembling the stems, place finished acorns on a cookie sheet to harden completely. I would let them set for about an hour.

 

They are then ready to place into a container, little festive treat bags or directly into your mouth!

Enjoy!

Peas and Carrots

As a mother, I feel very blessed to have a daughter and a son. Secretly, I was so happy when I found out we were having a girl first. I always wanted a daughter. I grew up with a sister; it's familiar to me. Having one of each would be perfect. I was comfortable with two girls if that should be my luck. But honestly, I think I might have been a little disappointed to end up with all boys. I of course would have gotten over it and loved them unconditionally; I knew I always wanted a daughter.

I was blessed with my Brown Eyed Girl.

When we found out we were pregnant again, I really was content either way. Knowing how much I wanted a daughter, I knew my husband really wanted a son.

We were truly blessed with one of each.

We worried how our Brown Eyed Girl would take to a new baby in the family.

It was love at first sight.

Since we brought Mr Blue Eyes home, our Brown Eyed Girl has wanted to hold him and love him every day. I look at how caring she is with him and how much he idolizes her right now and I can't help but think they will have the best relationship as brother and sister.

Well until he starts crawling and can get into all her stuff. Then there will fighting.

For now, I am loving how in love they are with being brother and sister.

They "Hold Hands" while big sister helps entertain him. 

They watch cartoons together on Sunday mornings.

They have slumber parties together.

 

 They have great conversations over drinks.

 

 They give each other a shoulder to lean on.

 

They take rides together. They are advocates for great causes. They watch mom exercise.

 

 Big sister teaches him how to color. He is fascinated by her.

They are a couple of cute kids don't you think? (They both wore the same bib)

He wants to do everything she does. Including sucking a pink pacifier while learning our letters - okay so it's my back up pacifier. I couldn't find the boy specific ones at that very moment.

He will never let me live this picture down when he is 15.

I will save this one for both of them when they are 15 and think they want to date...

Them Sticker Gitters

No matter how hard I try to leave the house early, something or someone always gets in my way. I went out to feed horses on this chilly morning and as the horses strolled up to the fence what should I see?

Enter Exhibit A

Yikes! That looks like it hurts. Looks like someone rolled into a cactus bed.

Look at the long stickers in those cactus pieces!

Dang it! 

As a horse person, I can't just leave him like this. 

Back to the barn in search of gloves and a halter. 

As I plucked the stickers from his coat I couldn't help but get a little satisfaction that this had happened to this particular colt. He has been a real stinker these last few months, feeling his oats and picking on my old mare. 

"Ooops! Sorry big guy. Did that hurt? I didn't mean to bump that one. Sorry." hehehe

Operation sticker removal complete. You may continue eating your breakfast. 

Lovely, Now I am late!

Pulling out of the driveway, I remembered a little poem from my childhood that my dad would always recite to us. This sure has been the year for stickers. 

Them Sticker Gitters
How about them Sticker Gitters, Ain't they neat?
Gittin' them stickers in they feet.
Gittin' them goat-heads, Gittin' them briars,
Pickin' them out with sticker pickin' pliers!
Look at them Sticker Gitters, Cain't they cuss!
Soons git a sticker, Raise a mighty huge fuss.
Them tender footed Sticker Gitters, how they squeal!
Stickers in they toes, stickers in they heels.
How to be a Sticker Gitter? Don't need a ticket;
Stick a foot 'n the weeds, let the stickers git it!

~Mason Williams

Satisfied Dresser

When I was pregnant with both of our kids my mother and I shopped endlessly for baby furniture. I loved the idea of convertible cribs growing with them from infant, to toddler, to young adult. We chose quality furniture that would be relevant and last through their child hood and yet have mature enough qualities they would be more than happy to take it with them some day when they flew the nest. Both kids received three-piece sets and all the conversion kits for their beds. The sets are beautiful.

Shortly after Mr Blue Eyes was born is was quite evident that our kids had better furniture than we did.

My husband's dresser was given to his mother shortly before he was born. Second hand and made of pressed wood, it was a temporary situation until she could find something better. 31 years later and some self modifications, my Handy-Man is still using the same dresser. (he tossed it in the trash before I could get a good photo - but here are the drawers)

 

Handy-Man's trademark craftsmanship.

My furniture growing up consisted of antiques my mother had collected or been willed through family members. She loved me, but not enough to let me take her antiques to college. On a Saturday morning just before my sophomore year, I had my shiny F-250 all loaded up with everything I owned. I was moving into my very first house. Pulling out of the driveway, we waved hello to our neighbors as they were setting up for a garage sale. My mom and I pulled over to say hello and we noticed a dresser for sale. We asked how much they wanted for it. In true neighborly fashion they parted with the dresser and stacked it on top of my boxes free of charge. My neighbor mentioned this was the dresser he received from a family friend on his way to college and he bid me good luck.

 

My second house in college I was given two nightstands. They matched each other - but nothing else.

 

My mother-in-law has always felt guilty for never buying her son bedroom furniture.

She said this year was the year. It would be our Birthday/Anniversary/Christmas/Valentines Day and every other holiday present for the year. She gave me a budget and we browsed every reasonably priced furniture store around. I got several ideas of what I wanted - or thought I wanted.

This weekend on our way home from a kid's birthday party, I steered my car to another large furniture store. Minutes after stepping foot in the store, I found the furniture I wanted. It fit in the budget, had knobs and not loud handles on the drawers, and was soooooooo pretty! I snapped some pictures and reserved the set. I made a few calls and informed my Handy-Man that he needed to hook up the flat-bed trailer because we were picking it up Sunday morning.

Husbands...

He has heard us chatting about new bedroom furniture for months.

We asked him to come look with us - he doesn't even 'shop' for his own underwear let alone browses for furniture.

I showed him the photos the night before, dancing around the house with excitement - speaking in an octave at least three measures higher than normal I am sure. 

Nothing. No comments other than we just had to be home in time for the Bronco game.

Sunday morning it was like my Birthday/Anniversary/Christmas/Valentines Day all rolled into one! Driving to the store he finally speaks, "I wanted log furniture...but no one cares what I want."

W-T-F!!!

He is notorious for buzz kills just like this moment. When we were married, he wanted no part of the planning process. He said to just tell him where and what time to show up and make sure we get a good cake. Two weeks prior to the wedding he suddenly replaced the batteries in his hearing aid and interjects himself into one of our last minute planning sessions. He said, "Whoa, I don't want a big production. I just want to get married and ten minutes later be bar-b-queuing in the back yard. Why do we have to invite all these people to the wedding? If I haven't met them, they don't need to come."

As my overly stressed head rotated at least three full circles and smoke bellowed from my nostrils, I politely told him he could "stick it where the sun don't shine." Furthermore, I didn't want to hear one more word out of him. He had every opportunity to be part of this process and chose not to. At this point, it was my wedding (in walks Bridezilla) and he had better just paint a smile on his face and shut the hell up!

I got great satisfaction knowing he didn't even bother to try on his rental shoes and he was forced to suffer through the ceremony wearing shoes that were a size too small.

At the end of the night, he did tell me it was the best darn party ever.

So as far as I was concerned, I had my heart set on this furniture. You snooze, you lose my friend. 

Aren't they pretty?!?!

I have two nightstands, and they match everything!

I now have a 'Big Girl Dresser' - with a mirror! (please don't mind the pack-n-play in the corner, it matches nothing)

 

Someday I plan to repaint that wall...

Even my gnarly Handy-Man has a new beautiful dresser.

We need a new television now - flat screen maybe?

Dnacing with the Stars

Our Brown Eyed Girl has commanded an audience since the day she was born. She is the most outgoing two-year-old I know. She never went through a the dreaded "stranger anxiety" stage, quivering at the presence of someone new. She will look any adult in the eye, flash them a smile and willingly strike up a conversation. A little social butterfly, a talented entertainer, a smile that can capture the hearts of all.

Until this summer, our Brown Eyed Girl was far too occupied by exploring the world around her. She is athletic and energetic and loves to "swing big" and climb everything. A natural born leader on the play ground to her peers. She wanted nothing more than to run, skip and concur it all.  

This summer something changed.

Don't get me wrong, she is still a little spark plug and the adventurer she has always been.

She just does is with more flair these days!

Our Brown Eyed Girl has become obsessed with wearing dresses or skirts that twirl just so, dress shoes and "Dancing with the Stars."

If the elements are all in place, you had better grab your chair. Let the performance begin!

Dancing Shoes...

Check!

Flat bed trailer to double as a stage...

Check!

A captive audience...

Check!

Not only can she dance my friends. She is also very musically talented.

The Grand Finale...

"Thank you! Thank you! You are all much too kind."

Fall Cleaning

As the fall colors dance across the pastures and the cold crisp air moves in for the winter, it's time to get our little house on the prairie ready for the winter months to come.

Fall starts with a large delivery from our hay guy. Above anything else I will do to prepare for winter, having a barn full of hay is the one thing that eases my mind. Only a horse person can appreciate the feeling of walking into a barn that has been stacked to the rafters with this year's hay crop.

Before the days grow too cold, we have to set an entire day aside for checking our fence line to make sure everything is secure before the first flakes begin to fall. Pulling fence in the snow or trying to replace a post after the ground has frozen are among my least favorite chores as a horse owner. And when you are married to a non horse person, asking for assistance on fence work in the winter is one of the things I try to avoid.


You wouldn't think this wouldn't take an entire day's commitment to just check the fence line on our forty acre property. But these are the horses I am working with...

 

When the hay is stacked, fences are mended, and the gates are all in good working order, I venture into the tack room to dig out my water tank heaters. Every year I have to replace at least one heater that has been chewed, trampled or simply has decided to kick the bucket. As a horse owner, it seems like I am always buying these heaters, but the alternative to breaking ice makes the annual thirty dollar purchase well worth it - if only I could by thirty dollars worth of stock in the tank heater company... I would be a very wealthy woman.

All of my horses have been on pasture since this spring. After having Mr Blue Eyes in May, I still haven't been back in the saddle. The stall runs off my barn were so overgrown that even my horses would need GPS to find their way from the shelter to the water tanks. During nap time one Saturday afternoon I finally climbed on the ridding lawn mower to hack down the forest.

Behold my arch nemesis this year.

 
This little bugger is known as the Puncturevine Weed (a.k.a Goatheads) This plant is designed to thrive. The plant will continue to grow and produce seeds until the fall when it unleashes its wrath of pain and misery.

They easily get tracked into my house on a daily basis by our dog and especially my husband who likes to forget to take his shoes off at the door. (This is one of the reasons I have this rule at my house) Nothing makes me hotter than a hornet than walking across my living room, barefoot, and stepping on a goathead.

This is a result of just walking the trash out to the barn.

My mighty little lawn mower and I tackled the stalls, chopping down every weed in our path. I am pretty sure I should have done this a month ago before everything got so dry. My mowing venture kicked up a lot of dust and had me sneezing and venturing on an allergy attack in no time.

My mighty mower took the brunt of our battle.
She needs a bath now.

 

And I wouldn't be surprised if she needed a new tire the next time I take her for a spin.

 

Curse you Goatheads!