joy in the Mornings

I’ve entered a craft contest on another website. In order to make it as a finalist in the competition, I need to get people to go to the site and vote for my entry. I wrote a piece (including photos!) about how to make a corn husk doll. At the bottom of the article is a widget that says “I’ve entered the craft contest - vote for me!”

So I’m trying to drum up votes! After all, it’s nearing Election Day so I might as well be saying “Vote for me! Vote for me!”

The site is Craftymom’s Scraps and Scribbles and if you’d be so kind as to check it out and vote for me in the contest, I’d be so grateful!

Yesterday I took the kids outside to brush up on some photography skills. They took pictures of all sorts of things.

We ended up going down to my parents’ house then driving down to the woods and out around my grandparents’ house. The kids shot up some film and I took some pics with my camera. The kids and I rode around in the back of Dad’s truck (yes - I know it’s a no-no, but I grew up riding across fields and down dirt lanes around the family farm in the back of a pickup) and I had the chance to tell them stories of when I was a kid.

I told them about coming down to the woods and running around with my brother - walking the dry creek looking for rocks and other treasures. I showed them where we used to pick blackberries along the side of the lane that runs next to Grandma and Grandpa’s house.

There’s a spot down at the end of the lane where every spring, there is a hill completely covered with yellow daffodils. I used to love walking down the lane to pick Easter flowers (as we always called them). I’d bring bouquets back up to Grandma and she’d smile and put them in a vase and place it on her kitchen table.

After we finished with our photography expedition, we went back to Mom and Dad’s and Mom gave the kids some drawing lessons.

My youngest, Rubenstein, didn’t want to draw, so she and I spent the time picking up buckeyes that had fallen from the tree in Mom and Dad’s yard. We had fun trying to find the shiny, brown treasures stuck in the grass. After all was said and done, we ended up with a bucket about 3/4s full of buckeyes!

So what to do with buckeyes? You can’t eat ‘em. I guess we could plant a couple of them to get some trees started.

No, I have found that buckeyes are great for crafts. Yes - crafts! I have made necklaces, Christmas ornaments, and garlands of strung buckeyes that look really neat.

So I guess we’ll get busy making more garlands, ornaments and the like. Maybe this year I’ll make myself some earrings. . .

A couple of days ago my dog Jesse jumped out of his pen. He is a white German Shepherd - a real sweetheart. He is one of a pair of brothers (the other is named Frank - yes, Frank and Jesse James are their names). We don’t let them run loose because of where we live and because my grandmother lives in front of us and is terrified of the Shepherds.

The two boys are very gentle and loving, but they are also great watchdogs - which is why we got them.

So Jesse jumped out of his pen Saturday while I was standing in the driveway talking to a friend and her husband who had stopped by. Jesse came running over ready to receive adoration from all of the kids (my three and my friend’s two).

Jesse is not a small dog. He probably weighs in at around 80 plus pounds. But he is very loving and gentle - especially with kids and especially with me.

My friend’s husband asked if I needed help getting Jesse back to his pen and I said no.

After all, I’m very self-reliant and I might be small but I’m strong. I am also headstrong and prefer to do things for myself.

As my friends were backing out of our driveway, Jesse suddenly lunged. At what, I’m not sure. I was tired and wasn’t expecting it and I lost my footing, my balance, and my dignity.

I had put a leash on Jesse to walk him back to the pen and I did not let go of it. I held on tight for dear life.

Jesse managed to drag me - on my stomach - about 10 feet across the yard. Then he stopped.

I was praying the whole time that my friend and her husband had made it out of the driveway and didn’t witness my indignity.

Then I could swear Jesse snickered a bit as he looked at me. My guineas were wandering around nearby - probably the reason Jesse lunged - and I think they were also giggling.

I got up, brushed the dust off, spoke sternly to Jesse and then proceeded to finish my task.

I ended up with only a skinned elbow, bruised ego and scattered dignity.

Chalk this one up to one more goofy story my kids can tell about me, because yes, my oldest daughter witnessed the whole thing. And she tells everything.

Ah, life! Every second is fascinating and full of adventure.

This morning I was in the shower, getting ready for church. My two older children and hubby were still asleep and my youngest daughter had gotten up right after me.

I was soaped up and about to rinse when I heard this loud BANG! followed by my seven-year-old’s screams. Without even turning off the water I jumped out of the shower, threw on my robe and went running.

Ruby (my daughter) has this habit when she is cold. She pulls her arms into her shirt and wraps her arms around her body inside her shirt.

I have often told her not to do that - no reason, just that she shouldn’t do it for some reason. I didn’t think it was a good idea. You just never know. Dear Husband has told her the same - his reasons were that she would stretch out and ruin her good shirts. 

It seems as though she had sat down on the chair in front of my desk, then proceeded to not only pull her arms into her nightgown, but pull her legs up into it as well.

So there she sat, much like a weeble (you remember those, right? Weebles wobble but they don’t fall down. . . maybe I’m showing my age!). And she began to wobble - forward. She couldn’t catch herself because her arms and legs were occupied, so her body had no choice but to wobble toward the desk and smack her forehead - hard - on the edge.

She was left with a good-sized pump knot that turned a bluish-black and she’s been traumatized all morning!

Maybe she’s learned a hard lesson that we should all remember: Don’t pull your arms inside your shirt at the same time you pull your legs up into your shirt. It’s an accident waiting to happen.

Now there’s a momism that’s worth remembering.

Saturday is typically not considered a school day, unless you homeschool. If you homeschool, then everyday is a school day in one form or fashion.

Today I took the kids to Hunting and Fishing Days - an annual event - at a local community college.

We got to sit in on a very interesting program about birds of prey. They got to learn more about owls and hawks, and find out about the American Kestrel and the Turkey Vulture.  Then we saw a demonstration of catfish “noodling” or as we call it here in Southern Illinois, catfish “hogging.” Hogging/noodling is a method of catching fish with your hands.

So these weren’t your typical school lessons and the kids had no idea they were doing schoolwork!

I love homeschooling!

I came home today from a trip into town only to be greeted by my guineas.

This isn’t an unusual experience. They recognize my vehicle and most of the time, when I pull in the driveway, they run from their hiding places squawking and buckwheating at me. It’s almost as if they’re saying “You’re home! You’re home! You won’t believe all that has happened while you’ve been gone!”

They have even on occasion tried to follow me in my big red wagon (a red 1989 Chevy Suburban) down the driveway and out to the road.

Today I decided to try something out. I walked toward their house and of course they were right behind me. I grabbed some feed in both hands then squatted in front of the little guys and gals - about six inches from them. Yes, they get that close to me. 

One brave one immediately began pecking up the food in my hands and soon most of the birds were dining from the hand trough.

The last time I had guineas - about seven years ago - those guys didn’t want anything to do with a human. They wouldn’t come within 20 feet of a human!

Maybe it’s because I’ve raised these guys since they were two-day-old keets, but whatever the difference is - these are friendly guineas!

I’m not sure what a normal day at my house is. Today certainly wasn’t it!

We went into town to get groceries today. I combined our grocery outing with schooling by letting the kids keep track of the amount we were spending (to help keep me under my budgeted amount), read the shopping list, find the aisles where everything was located, etc.

That was sort of normal. I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in quite some time and we stood in the aisle playing catch up. She told me about some of the amazing things God has been doing in her life and I was really encouraged to hear everything she had to say.

We finished our shopping - going from Walmart to Save a Lot to Kroger then home under budget (what a wonderful surprise!) and with almost everything on my list. I was proud of the kids as they helped me do price and size comparisons.

Later in the afternoon, a friend came over with her two children and we let the kids have some free play time while we sat and visited.

Suddenly the dog started howling in pain - he had his leg caught in the fence. While I was trying to get him loosed, the other dogs got me filthy and knocked over their water.

I had to fix the fence while my friend watched and offered a hand here and there. Then I had to go grab the hose to refill the water bucket.

The only problem there was that the hose had finally decided to spring a leak - a really big one. Apparently a hole had worn through a weak spot and was causing a geyser in the middle of the yard - far from the dogs.

I turned the water back off and went to find duct tape. After taping the hole up really, really good - with lots and lots of duct tape - I went back to water the dogs.

I was able to get that finished, but then saw that the hose had sprung two more leaks and the spot I’d patched with the duct tape had blown open again. But I got the water bucket filled up.

Sigh. No normal day here. But it is always interesting!

Yesterday the kids and I went to a friends house to pick apples and pears.

This friend has a number of fruit and nut trees on her property and had plenty to share, so when she offered - we jumped at the chance.

We gathered our baskets and bags and set out.

The kids had never picked fruit before and in truth, they’d never seen apples and pears that didn’t come from the grocery store.

Some of the apple trees were growing on a slight incline, so when the branches were shaken, the apples came off and began rolling down hill. My kids and the other kids who were there had a ball waiting to catch apples as they rolled toward them.

My friend also has nut trees - black walnuts, pecans, chestnuts, etc. Most of those aren’t ready yet, but the black walnuts were falling. Some of the others who joined in the day picked up walnuts, but we didn’t. We have a supply at hand so I left the others to take their share.

Now I have a box full of apples and pears and will be poring over my recipe books in preparation for canning them up.

I’m thinking about applesauce and dried apples, and canned apples, and cinnamon pears and who knows what else I’ll find.

Yum!

We had a death in the family a couple of days ago - my daughter’s gerbil, Scrap, passed away.

Scrap lived to a ripe, old age of two years. The average gerbil lifespan is 1-2 years, so Scrap ended his on the extreme end.

Scrap was a replacement for a pet rat who passed on within a few hours of being welcomed into our family. The distraught little girl - who was five at the time - was offered a gerbil to ease her grief over the dead rat, who was also named Scrap.

Scrap the gerbil became known as Scrap Jr. and we, of course, simply called him Scrap.

He was a good gerbil, as gerbils go. He only escaped his cage a couple of times and was easy to catch upon both occasions. His favorite pasttimes were eating and sleeping. He adored sunflower seeds, carrots, apple peels and crackers.

Scrap loved a good, deep pile of cedar shavings to burrow into and enjoyed sleeping in a pvc pipe elbow, which is where he spent his last moments on earth.

Scrap died peacefully in his sleep - in his pipe elbow, after a filling snack of sunflower seeds and apple peel.

Rest in peace, Scrap, we’ll miss you.

Hubby and I got the new chicken house finished yesterday afternoon. We used an old swingset frame, covered it with metal, made a door on one end, then attached the other end to the existing chicken pen. I stapled the chicken wire of the pen to the end of the house, then cut it free!

The chickens were curious about the whole thing while we were getting it set up. When we finally cut the chicken wire loose and they were free to go into their new digs, they wouldn’t go in!

They would walk up to the opening and examine the entrance to the chicken house then back away as if terrified.

Last night after it got dark, I went out to check and see if they’d gone inside, but they were parked on the ground in a corner of the pen!

This morning when I got up, I went out to see their progress and there was not a chicken to be seen in the pen - they were all in the chicken house!

Now they didn’t want to come out of the house - silly chickens!

Today I plan to put in a nest box and a roost. According to my estimates, my little hens should start laying eggs sometime within the next 3 weeks.

I can’t wait!