Wranglers and Ribbons

7 Random Things

2012-02-21T13:01:00.000-08:00

1. We've been having a ton of drama on our little road this week. First, a low- rider ghetto car careened off the road into the ditch in front of our house late one night. The driver was going so fast that he popped up out of the ditch and ended up in our front yard, high- centered on a boulder with his two front tires spinning in mid-air. The back seat passengers ran off into the forest immediately. When the driver spun out in our yard and realized he was going nowhere, he and the passenger switched seats before the sheriff arrived. Turns out, the real driver (now the passenger) was heavily intoxicated and his girlfriend (the real passenger) said she fell asleep at the wheel. An hour and a half later they finally removed the completely totaled car from my yard. No one was ticketed because it happened on private property and the sheriff couldn't prove that they switched seats because it was my word against theirs. The sheriff didn't even go looking for the passengers who were hiding in the woods. Nice. Real nice.

A few days later, a car crashed into the pasture next to my house, taking out the stop sign and the corner of the fence. Sometimes people take our "back road" to avoid the highway when they've got something to hide. I'm ready to move off of this road.

2. I'm doing our taxes this week so I have stacks of papers EVERYWHERE! With any luck, I'll be done today. Hallelujah!

3. I really like this stuff. It's Pureology Hydrate Shampoo and Conditioner. It costs a small fortune but has lasted over 4 months. I have long hair and wash my hair daily. I spoke of it in THIS post, and I'm finally convinced that it has improved the condition of my hair dramatically from the time I started using it. I'm a believer.

4. I made an impulse purchase of a beautiful Red Velvet Cake with cream cheese frosting on Saturday while I was in the valley, and then proceeded to leave the whole darn thing sitting in my dad's refrigerator. I didn't remember to grab it until I was over an hour into my three and a half hour drive home. By that time it was far too late to turn around for it. My beloved cake is gone, gone, gone and I didn't get a single bite. I hope you enjoy it, Dad.

5. My dad had his hands full babysitting my three kids and my three month old niece all by himself this weekend for long periods of time while the rest of us prepared for a bridal shower. He took the grand-kids out for pizza and games, went to Bass Pro Shop to practice shooting and casting lures with fishing poles, and they helped him split wood. I'm proud of him. Babysitting is tough work!

6. We're going to tile the wall behind the bathtub this weekend. And by "we" I mean my husband. Say a prayer for him.

7. I'm off to go look at a horse prospect for one of my kiddos.

Happy Tuesday!

Nell

Valet Parking Debacle

2012-02-20T04:00:00.000-08:00

Have you ever experienced valet parking?

I went down to the valley for a bridal shower this weekend and had to do some shopping for the bride. Twice in one day I was faced with the dilemma of having to either use valet parking, or park far away and walk. This NEVER happens to me in my "real" life. There is not a single place on this mountain that has valet parking. But evidently that's how they "roll" in Scottsdale.

I have to tell you that I totally panicked!

I pulled into the parking lot of my first stop and there was a sign that said "valet only". There were six guys waiting to open my door and take my vehicle to an undisclosed location. I started to sweat because:

A. I had no cash in my wallet for a valet
B. I have no idea how much you tip a valet
C. I didn't want to use valet parking.

I was trapped! There was no way to turn around. I just rolled the window down and embarrassingly told the guys that I didn't need them to park my vehicle. They looked at me like I was a lunatic because there were no other options. So I practically squealed the tires as I gunned it past the parking kiosk and went down the road. I ended up parking in a neighborhood a block away and then proceeded to jay-walk across a four lane highway to get to the store.

I felt like a total dork/cheapskate/nerd/hillbilly/redneck/loser.

After that humiliating episode, I went to Scottsdale Fashion Square for my very first time to buy a bridal shower gift from her registry at Crate and Barrel. Unfortunately, the only one I knew of was at the most posh shopping mall in Arizona. Scottsdale Fashion square feels a bit like Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. There are expensive cars everywhere, and trophy wives with designer handbags abound. As soon as I pulled into the parking lot, there were valet parking signs everywhere and my hands got cold and clammy. I made a bee-line for the exit and parked in a construction area. It was a nice day for a long walk.

For some reason, the thought of valet parking brings up a ton of hidden emotions that I apparently need to work through.

1. I feel like parking in valet is a total rip-off. There are starving children in Africa and people pay $10 to have someone park their car for them. Waste of money!!!

2. God gave me two legs to walk from the parking lot myself.

3. What if they wreck my truck?

4. The thought of valet parking is an invasion of privacy. What if they don't like the country music on my radio? What if they think my truck isn't nice enough when they park Ferraris all day? What if there's a french fry wedged in the back seat? What if they look into the glove box and find the emergency toilet paper roll?

5. What if they steal the change out of the ash tray?

This last question brings up the worst of my issues. I have a hard time trusting strangers. In the back of my mind, I think that there is a risk of them stealing something out of my truck. And I'm not just talking about valet parking attendants. Whether it's at the car wash or the tire shop, I have a phobia about people stealing my junk. Whenever I have to hand the keys over to someone, I dump all of the change into my purse, take out all of the CD's and my i-pod, lock the toolbox and take out the registration papers. Over-kill, I know. But I don't get that warm fuzzy feeling about handing my keys over to teenage boys. I have visions of them joy riding in my Ford with the radio blasting loud rap music, buying their friends sodas from money out of my ash tray....all while I'm picking out dinnerware in Crate and Barrel.

I love to shop, but I've never been so glad to leave a mall before! I was totally out of my comfort zone!

Do you think my feelings on valet parking are justified, or am I totally paranoid? How about you? Do you ever valet park?

A Triple Holiday means 3x the Fun!

2012-02-14T21:14:00.000-08:00

Today was a trifecta of holidays!

1. Valentine's Day

2. Arizona's 100th Birthday

3. A Snow Day!

Three holidays means three times the fun!

We played in the snow this morning.

Then we drove to the shop to pick up Dad for a Valentine's lunch with the 4 loves of his life, and ate at Mickey D's.

After lunch, we dropped our date off and drove home in heavy snow with 4 Wheel drive.

When we walked in the front door, we peeled our winter boots off, stoked up the fire, and warmed the kitchen up by baking some sugar cookies to deliver to our neighbors and favorite older folks.

I made the dough and frosting, and let the kids do all the rest!

If the size of the mess is any indication of the amount of fun they had, then I'd say they had an absolute blast decorating cookies!

Hopefully the recipients of our baked goods appreciated the "uniqueness" of each cookie they received.

Would you like a little bit of cookie with your frosting? Ha Ha! This one had to be culled from the gift selection. It may put someone into sugar shock.

Here are the Royal Tasters making sure that the cookies passed inspection before they made their deliveries.

They also took snow shovels with them on their cookie deliveries to clear walkways as acts of neighborly "love" for Valentine's Day.

After the deliveries were made, it was time to burn off all of that sugar with some more fun in the snow.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Nell

Homeschooling: A Saul to Paul Conversion Part II

2012-02-13T17:14:00.000-08:00

For Part 1, click HERE.

The Saga Continues:

...Out of the blue one day, my husband approached me.

He said, "I know this is going to sound totally crazy, but I think we should consider homeschooling the kids."

Then I cried.

The tears flowed freely because I knew at that moment, without a shadow of a doubt, that God was speaking to us both very clearly.

I said, "I know. I've been feeling the same way, but was afraid to tell you."

Being the whole-hearted person that I am, I decided to submerge myself in a monumental quest for knowledge. And I DO mean monumental. I wanted to know the good, bad, and ugly of homeschooling. I was still concerned that I would uncover the "smoking gun" that would convince us that this was a bad idea.

Within days, I had 16 books on my kitchen table about homeschooling and public education. I had websites bookmarked about homeschooling laws in our state. I had printed copies of the first long term studies on homeschooling that followed hundreds of children from elementary school to their 30's. I also had data from public school studies.

I poured over those resources as if my very life depended on knowing every detail.

Then it happened! Just as Saul had a life changing conversion on the road to Damascus and went from boldly persecuting Christians to following Christ and passionately proclaiming the Gospel, my eyes were opened to truth of homeschooling, and for the first time, I was a believer!

At first, I was angry because everything I had believed about home education was a total lie, and the myths had been perpetuated throughout all my years in public school. I never thought to question them, or think outside the box.

Then I felt like a fool for never having researched it myself before forming an opinion on it. I'm usually a skeptic by nature, and I felt ashamed for blindly believing what I was told without checking the source.

My studies continued with interviews of 6 public school teachers. We even had high ranking school officials from our district over to our house for dessert. We peppered them with questions. Surprisingly, more than a few of them were quite frustrated in the classroom and wouldn't fault me for homeschooling. More surprising, were the additional 5 teachers I met from our district who quit teaching and are now homeschooling their own children because of what they witnessed happening in the classroom.

Every night when my husband got home, I would share with him what I learned about that day during my research. Then we would sit side by side bantering back and forth about passages from the books we were reading. We devoured every piece of published literature about education that we could get our hands on. We had so much to learn about the truths of homeschooling and so little time to do it.

We were about to drop an educational bombshell of epic proportions on to our families , and we knew without a doubt that we better have our facts straight during the interrogation period, or we'd be viewed as lunatics for homeschooling our kids. We wanted to be prepared for the fall-out.

In June, my mom came up for a week to help me paint my house. It took me two days, but I finally worked up the courage to talk to her about it. I knew that out of everyone, she'd be the most open to the idea. We were both on ladders painting the eaves of the house when I approached the subject:

"So...we've been sort of thinking a little bit about maybe, possibly...*cough* *cough* homeschooling the kids." *cough*

"What?"

"I said, we're sort of feeling that God might be calling us to teach the kids at home. How do you feel about that?"

There was a pause. Then she said, "Homeschooling was almost un-heard of when we sent you to public school, but it seems like more and more people these days are doing it. If that's what God is calling you to do, then who am I to stand in your way?"

Then I began to tell her about all that I had learned over the following days.

After the first stage of our research, we were convinced that homeschooling was beneficial, but we had to shift our focus. The second phase of research involved interrogating every veteran homeschooling parent that we knew so that we could work out the nuts and bolts of what to do. We specifically sought out the ones who had completed their homeschooling journey and had kids who were grown and gone. They had so much wisdom and insight to offer us. We also talked to several homeschool graduates to hear about their experiences: what they liked, what they would do different, and what their over-all opinions were of their education.

As if that weren't enough, we went to our state's homeschool conference and convention and took every class we could to educate ourselves. Then we poured over tons of different curriculum choices, and read their reviews on-line. We carefully selected our kindergarten materials and ordered our books.

All that was left to do was drop the homeschooling bomb on our friends and family.

Their reactions were all over the map. Some were supportive, some thought we were stupid, some thought we would wreck our kids' lives. Others chose to reserve judgement and take a "wait and see" attitude. My church friends went slack jawed when I told them of our decision because they knew the old me, and I had to convince them that God had changed my heart and I that I had finally done my homework about homeschooling. I also had to eat a LOT of humble pie. Thankfully, they all still loved me despite my bad judgement in this area.

I'm convinced that God allowed me to be a homeschool hater for a time to keep me humble and help me have compassion when the worst of the fall-out hit. We had a few people who shot us some real daggers. One asked us if we were associated with some bizarre family who claimed to homeschool and were arrested for making their kid live in a tent. Then on another occasion someone told us our kids would be in high school and not know how to read if we chose to homeschool. It cut us to the core because after all of the years of knowing us and our character, they still said those things. Yet God quickly reminded me that not so long ago, I too had a horribly flippant mouth about things in which I really knew nothing about. But for the grace of God, I might be going around with the same ignorant views today.

Throughout the summer, God kept confirming to us that we had made the right decision over and over again in a myriad of different ways. My mother and I attended an all-day craft class with 30 other ladies, and across the table sat all of the kindergarten teachers at the school my son was enrolled in. Throughout the day, they complained about their whiny little students, the terrible parents, and how they had too many kids in their class. My mom just looked at me wide-eyed when we left that evening and said, "Nell, I think you made the right decision."

My husband went to the school and withdrew my son's enrollment in kindergarten. The week before public school started, I was outside watering the flowers along my driveway when a big yellow school bus stopped in front of my house. The bus driver opened the door and introduced herself. She told me that she would be driving my son to school each day. I told her that we withdrew him from the school and that she could scratch him off of her bus route list. I watched the bus disappear down the road and the smell of the exhaust lingered in my nose. At that moment, it became real to me. My family was about to embark upon the biggest and most challenging adventure of our lives; filled with all sorts of unknowns and nay-sayers. We were breaking new ground and blazing our own trail with many people watching and waiting for us to fail.

My stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies as the weightiness of our choice and its implications began to sink in.

Could I really do this homeschooling thing?

To Be Continued......

Snippets of the Weekend

2012-02-11T16:56:00.000-08:00

A 4-H Horse Meeting

Bringing Protein Supplement to the cows.

Rollerskating at the Park

A Bike Ride on "The Road to Nowhere" with Pop Pop

(They all look like teeny tiny dots at the end of the road, but the sky looked so blue and the mountains looked so pretty that I just couldn't bare to zoom in on them and miss the scenery.)

Going for a ride with Grandma.

Eating the best Chile Rellenos on the mountain.

Dog sitting our favorite girl, Milly.

Homeschooling: A Saul to Paul Conversion

2012-02-10T06:46:00.000-08:00

I used to be a homeschool hater.

That's right....I used to talk smack about "nerdy homeschoolers".

My husband and I were both educated in the public school system and had what I would consider the "All-American" school experience. When we got married and had kids, we never thought in a million-trillion- bazillion years that we would teach our kids at home. EVER.

Education was important to us. It was so important that we would do nearly anything for our kids to get into a great school district. In fact, it took us two full years to find a house we could afford in the best school district in our part of the state. It was so important to us that we purchased our house in a town that is 30 minutes away from our pastures and cattle. We were willing to make HUGE sacrifices because nothing but the best would do for our kids.

There were a few of my friends at church who were planning to teach their children at home, and I flat out told them they were CRAZY.

Our church got a new youth pastor, and he and his wife were both homeschooled themselves, and planned on teaching their own children the same way.

One evening I was traveling in a car with our youth pastor on the way to do a church visit and the subject of education came up. We got into a discussion and he told me some nonsense about how wonderful it was for him to be homeschooled, and how he hopes to raise his kids the same way. Blah, blah, blah. I looked him straight in the eyes and said the following words... and I quote:

"I will NEVER homeschool my kids."

Then I proceeded to tell him every un-educated and stupid myth about homeschooling that I had ever heard and never researched. You know, I used the dreaded "S" word....Your kids will never be "socialized".

(At this very moment God must have been sitting on his throne, and unbeknownst to me, he was probably laughing his head off during our conversation! I imagine He was thinking, "Oh, Nell, you have NO IDEA about the plans I have for you. HaHaHaHa!!!!!")

Let me make one thing clear....EVERYONE knew of my ill feelings about homeschooling.

So time went on and our oldest child turned four. Even though I was a stay-at-home mom, I enrolled him in a Christian preschool 3 afternoons a week so he could be properly "socialized". That's what all the moms did. I dutifully baked cupcakes for his class and volunteered frequently. My boy was a shining star in the classroom. I worked with him on A,B,C's and 1,2,3's at home, and he excelled.

In the springtime, our local school district had a "Kindergarten Round-up" and I went to the school and enrolled him to start class the following fall.

I went home that night and felt a weird twinge of uncertainty about our decision to send him to school. I dismissed it immediately.

Yet it kept happening, day in and day out. I read article after article about the failing school system in our state. Education was a hot button topic during the elections at that time and I poured over newspaper and magazine commentaries about education reform and school choice, and where our nation ranked with regards to education when compared to other industrialized countries.

Simultaneously, I was reading my Bible and was struck with the sheer magnitude of my responsibility as a parent of three little souls. I firmly believed that one day I would have to stand before God and be held accountable for the way in which I raised my children. That's not something to be taken lightly. My husband and I deeply desired for them to have a thorough Christian education. One of the many verses that kept coming to mind was this one:

"You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates." Deuteronomy 6:5-9

The question that I was muddling over in my mind was, "Could we effectively live out Deuteronomy 6:5-9 if we were limited to only weekends and evenings after dinner and homework were done?" Could we, in fact, counter-balance the things our kids would be hearing in the world with Biblical truths when they were away from us for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week?

On the flip side, I knew that there were many wonderful, dedicated teachers in the public school system. There were also many bright and amazing kids. I also knew that my parents were able to teach me the Word of God before and after school, and I was able to remain strong in my faith. (I later learned that statistically I was in the minority but that's another story for another day.)

So for over a month, I silently played tug-of-war in my mind about what to do with all of this knowledge plus a hundred other things on both sides of the issue. It was a huge dichotomy! I wanted my kids to be"in" the world but not "of" it. I wanted them to have lots of friends but not to be overly influenced by their peers. I wanted them to understand the dangers of drugs and alcohol, but I didn't want them to be exposed to them.

I prayed day and night. I was desperately trying to find clarity on it all. But in the tiny recesses of my heart, I kept having the gnawing feeling like we needed to homeschool our kids.

I pleaded with God! "Please Lord, show me how to navigate these uncharted waters of raising my children up in the knowledge of Your Word, and P.S....I still don't want to homeschool them."

A week later, I was still trying to ignore the thought of the dreaded "homeschooling" option but I couldn't get it out of my mind. I decided to really throw God a curve ball.

Knowing my husband was a fellow foe of homeschooling, I prayed another desperate prayer to God. "Lord, if this whole homeschooling thing is really what you want us to do then I want you to confirm it in my husband. I'm not going to say a single word about it to him. I'm not even going to utter the word "homeschooling" in this house. As far as I'm concerned it's full speed ahead, destination public school, unless I miraculously hear him tell me that we should teach our kids at home. It's got to come right from his lips! Amen."

Well, I knew that was never going to happen so I went about with my week as usual.

Then out of the blue one day, my husband approached me.

He said, "I know this is going to sound totally crazy, but......"

TO BE CONTINUED...

Rejoicing in all Circumstances

2012-02-07T23:06:00.000-08:00

Today my six year old decided to sprinkle thousands of teeny tiny beads all over her bedroom carpet so she could have an imaginary "celebration" with pretend confetti.

Another child poured himself a bowl of cereal that would easily feed Paul Bunyan and his ox.

After school, the kids thought it would be great fun to get out all sorts of tools, an assortment of screws and nails, and the cordless drill. Then they proceeded to take the wheels off of something in the garage. After acquiring the parts they needed, they screwed and nailed the four wheels on to the bottom of our wooden saw horse and attached a roping dummy head to the top so they could rope the saw horse and drag it around the yard like a steer. They did all of this while I was folding laundry. And I just thought that they were playing nicely in the back yard. Rookie mistake. When the kids are quiet, there is sure to be mischief brewing.

Couple these things with spilled drinks, bickering children, incomplete assignments, and a hot ember from the wood stove that landed on the carpet and you have a mama that looks like this:

But before I felt like this,

I decided to take a deep breath and ask the Lord for some help with my attitude. In hind sight, it seems silly to let the little things get to me, but at the time, they seemed like big, irritating problems. After walking away, taking a few deep breaths and gaining some perspective, I was able to take it all in stride. I may not have handled it perfectly, but I tried to make the most out of what was thrown my way.

I thanked the Lord for my precious girls as I vacuumed up a million little beads from the carpet. My son ate the bowl of cereal. It took him until lunch, but he finally finished it. I thanked God for my children's camaraderie and commended the kids for their creativity in making their own portable roping dummy.

Yes, there were lessons to be taught! We learned about wastefulness, starving children, the importance of taking care of tools, putting things away, carelessness, etc....

Yes, there were consequences as well.

And of course, there is always a lesson for Mom, too.

I'm studying the book of Philippians right now, and it really spoke to me today. There are only 4 short chapters in this book of the Bible, but they are full of important lessons. The apostle Paul wrote the book of Philippians when he was sitting in a jail cell. He didn't know whether he would live or die. However, Paul didn't despair. He rejoiced because he knew that his blessed Savior was indeed in control of everything! He uses the words "joy" and "rejoice" 16 times in this little letter to the people of Philippi.

The bottom line: We can't let our emotions dictate our joy. We must rejoice in all circumstances! Paul knew that God would work every trial he had for the advancement of the Kingdom of God. God takes everything that happens to us, and works it for good. If Paul, a prisoner in chains, had reason to rejoice, then I should certainly be able to rejoice through spilled milk, beads in the vacuum, and tools in the yard. Those aren't even trials. They're more like little inconveniences.

Learning to rejoice in all circumstances,

Nell

Desert Beauty on Display

2012-02-07T04:00:00.000-08:00

While I was down in the valley, I decided to capture some "Spring" and "Sunshine" from the desert with my camera and share it with all of you who may have the winter blahs.

If only there was a scratch and sniff button...this blog would be way more amazing! Have you ever smelled the desert after a good rain? It's the most heavenly aroma! If you are ever traveling through the Arizona desert after a monsoon has passed, pull the truck over, roll down the windows, and fill your lungs with that intoxicating air. It's unlike any other smell I've experienced. It will deeply enrich your day.

I may be a mountain girl by marriage, but I grew up in the Arizona desert and I appreciate its rugged beauty.

This time of year the desert comes alive with green grass and wildflowers. Its allure is on full display!

(Click on the pictures to enlarge them.)

Gila Woodpecker

Here's proof that grass does indeed grow in the desert. It usually thrives under trees and in shadier spots. Cows can get good and plump on spring grass in the desert, and they're masters at finding it!

Saguaro

This blog just wouldn't be complete without an Arizona sunset. This shot was taken from the Mogollon Rim.

Happy Tuesday!

Nell

"You Can't Stop a Freight Train..."

2012-02-06T07:33:00.000-08:00

This was the big weekend! We left the frozen tundra of home and drove down to the valley where it was sunny and 72°F to run in our first 5K race.

The weather was G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S!

Here we are with our good friends who inspired us to start jogging in the first place. Click here for the back story on how all of this running madness got started. After training in high elevation and the bitter cold all winter, it was finally time to test our resolve!

The 3.1 mile course was set against the backdrop of Papago Park. The course had two hilly spots, but the Mt. Everest on our road that we jog up every week prepared us for those tough portions of the race.

As it turned out, we didn't do half-bad for our first race! There were all types of people running, and the intimidation factor was high. Some people had aerodynamic clothes, special sunglasses, weird gadgets and devices, and crazy running shoes. The pre-race rituals were intense all around us, but we just stood there waiting for it to start. No pre-race stretching, or jumping around, or foot tapping from us mountain folk. We just watched the circus around us until they blew the air horn.

We were off to a flying start with lightning speed! You can't stop a freight train when it's coming down the tracks! Just kidding! Honestly, the race wasn't bad at all. I think we were pretty prepared for it.

My husband was the first of our group to cross the finish line with a time of 26 minutes. He placed 60th over-all and 9th in his age group.

My time was 30 minutes, and I placed in the top 30% of my age group, coming in 7th.

We finally earned our colorful Chinese Dragon T-Shirt! I'm really not a Dragon kind of girl, myself, but my husband (who has no shame) said that he doesn't care how ugly the shirt is. He earned it, and he plans on wearing it at least once!

It will go great with his Wranglers. Not. LOL!

Our racing prize?

Why, a Dairy Queen Blizzard, of course!

We earned this one!

We are the Champions of the World!

Nell

Finding Beauty in the Winter Months

2012-02-02T18:40:00.001-08:00

During the doldrums of the long winter when the world around me is shrouded in shades of brown and white, I look forward to little visits from our feathered friends. They bring so much color and life to an otherwise gray day.

I tried to keep my camera handy today to show you a few of the regulars around here.

A couple of Steller's Jays frequently hang around outside my window in the mornings.

We can see the lake from our house, and have just started to hear the sounds of Canada Geese stopping by for their annual migratory visit.

A few minutes later, it started to snow making my pictures blurry.

As I was taking pictures of the geese, my husband spotted another resident of the lake high up in the tree in the photo below.

Here's a closer look. Do you see the Bald Eagle?

We are blessed to have many Bald Eagles that fish in our lake. They fly directly over our house each evening with a fish in their talons as they make their way back to their nesting spot. I'm going to try harder to get a good picture of them when it's not snowing and the weather is nicer. They are such majestic birds of prey.

Look for the beauty in your world today!

Nell

The Spanglish is Flyin' in this House!

2012-01-31T20:56:00.000-08:00

Spanglish: part Spanish + part English = all wrong!

So...my kids are taking a Spanish class at our homeschool co-op. After two weeks of lessons, their Spanish is like totally amazing!

Not.

The truth is that my three little white kids aren't pickin' up the language too well.

They don't sprechen sie Spanish.

No habla Espanol. No comprende.

El queso esta viejo y putrido. (The cheese is old and moldy.)

Name that movie!....

I digress....

We live in a state that borders Mexico, and I'm tickled that my kids are starting to learn Spanish. It really comes in handy around these parts. For the last two weeks, my children have been "practicing" their foreign language skills with all of the family members, and it's been quite comical to say the least. None of my kids pronounce anything authentically. They all sound like they're from Arkansas.

(Did I ever tell you about the time I once went to a Taco Bell in Arkansas? Funniest thing ever! They pronounce everything wrong! They substitute a short "A as in apple" sound for everything on the menu...Taaacos, Naaaachos, Burrita) Oh, and they don't put taco sauce on anything because, "People 'round them parts don't like their Taaaacos spicy.")

Back to the story....

The kids have been practicing their numbers and colors lately.

My daughter screams across the house, "Mom, what is ocho times nueve?"

My son chimes in before I can answer. "It's siete and dos".

(He hasn't learned any of the numbers past ten so he's developed some form of Spanish roman numeral system to try to say 72. Seven and two. Get it? Neither did I. It's ok.) Hopefully, this week's lesson includes numbers beyond 10 or my children will continue to create their own.

Now I'm no expert in Spanish, myself. I had 3 years of it in Jr. High/ High School and could only say enough to find the bathroom or get directions. That all changed when I started working in the agricultural industry. Some of my Spanish speaking co-workers gave me a real education while I was working side by side with them in the barn. After six months of "on the job training" I knew all of the Spanish cuss words, could tell someone off in Spanish with vigor and vibrato, and could order people around in Spanish like I was the boss.

Good times, good times.

I'm sad to say that in my decade of being a stay-at-home mother in this mountain town, my Spanish has turned rusty at best. When people speak it, I can understand what they're saying, but I forget some of the words to respond back to them. However, I've retained enough to know bad Spanish when I hear it.

So I'm trying to grin and bear it when the terrible Spanish flies around the house, hurting my ears like the sound of my Illinois farming Grandpa ordering Chimichangas from the Mexican Food restaurants here in Arizona.

Which reminds me of another story...

Did I ever tell you about the time I went to Ohio with my church youth group and my youth pastor wanted to take us out for Mexican Food at a place called Chi Chi's? We refer to a woman's.....chest area....as her chi chi's around here so I was totally shocked when he said that! It seemed scandalous coming from my youth pastor. I was envisioning some sort of place with women of ill-repute or a restaurant like Hooter's. Nope. It was a totally legit' Mexican Food Restaurant. (But still...can Mexican Food really be that good in Ohio? That's a looong way from the border. I'm not saying it's impossible for Ohio to have good Mexican food...just improbable. If you're from Arizona and go to Ohio and think there's a place that has good Mexican Food, you have found a true diamond in the rough!)

Let's land this blog-post plane shall we? In conclusion.... I'm trying to have an extra measure of grace with my three children as they learn to roll their r's, and communicate in a foreign tongue. I am also trying not to burst out laughing when they speak to me with random Spanish words and sing Feliz Navidad repeatedly because it is the only song they know in Spanish.

Adios Amigos,

Nell

P.S.- Wow. My rambling was at an all time high in this post. My brain is a very busy place. Thanks for not leaving me despite my inability to focus on one thing.

"Do Something Small and Watch it Snowball"

2012-01-29T21:21:00.000-08:00

I consider myself to be a recovering perfectionist. I have "go big or go home" tendencies, and when I decide to do something, I sink my whole heart into it. I'm all in. On occasion, this can be a great quality to have. When I choose to take something on, I'm usually quite proud of the outcome. I'll work tirelessly to ensure that I've done something to the absolute best of my ability... something that at the end of the day, I'd gladly stand behind.

But perfectionism has an ugly side. When I don't think I can be a huge success, win all the marbles, or be the best....I sometimes choose to simply do nothing at all. It's every perfectionist's dirty little secret. If we can't do it flawlessly and on a grand scale....we don't even attempt it.

The older I get, the more I'm learning that, although there is a time and place for doing monumental things, more often than not, something simple will suffice. In fact, doing something small is, at times, better than not doing anything at all.

I'm changing my mentality.

I'm trying hard not to overlook the benefits of doing small things.

When I felt overwhelmed with the thought of jogging 3 miles, I didn't quit. The old me never would have attempted it, but the new me knows that even though I won't win the race, it's doing something good for my body. I started small by jogging for 1 minute. And then the next day, I jogged for two minutes, and so on.

This idea of micro-change spread into my eating habits. When I knew I needed to eat healthier, I didn't throw out all of the junk food in my house and go on a strict lettuce diet. I just resolved to put some more vegetables on my plate at every meal. Slowly, I'm replacing junk food with healthier alternatives.

In my attempts to read through my Bible, the old me would have quit the first day that I got off track. But when I can't read my daily 4 chapters, I just try for one. And if I forget today, then I jump back on the wagon tomorrow. I won't let perfectionism defeat me anymore.

The same mentality is spilling over into some other areas in my life.

As a perfectionist, I would read about the millions of widows and orphans in Africa and think that unless I had the wealth of Bill Gates, I couldn't possibly make a dent in the problem. I'd look at the hoards of starving people and crumple with defeat, knowing that I can't save them all. I would start to feel that unless I sold everything I owned and moved to Africa to be on the front lines, my efforts were in vain.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of need.

But I've stopped the "all or nothing" attitude. It kept me on the side-lines and incapacitated me for far too long.

I believe that as Christians we should be willing to sell everything we own and move to Africa...if that' what God is calling us to do. But he might not be calling us to do that! I can't allow fear of failure or the need for perfection to paralyze me from doing something good for the Kingdom of God.

My new motto: Do something small, and watch it snowball!

God might not be calling us to save millions of people, but He may call us to adopt just one orphan. Even if he hasn't called us to adopt a child right now, he commands us in His Word to take care of widows and orphans. Our response to that command could look a hundred different ways. We could financially sponsor orphans who we may never meet this side of Heaven. We could also do something as small as writing letters of reference for friends who are going through the adoption process. We can support those families with prayer and meals and service while they make their difficult adoption journeys. It may seem like very little in the grand scheme of things, but everything helps. Every single life is important to Jesus!

Maybe we haven't ever brought a widow into our home, but we can certainly support organizations that give micro-business loans and training to help widows get back on their feet and support themselves.

We may not be called to be on the front lines of missionary work, but perhaps we can send supplies, and financial support to those who already have "boots on the ground" in places of need.

I'm convinced that these small and seemingly insignificant actions have the potential to snowball into something much greater. In fact, we may never know their true impact!

I'm not going to waste my time waiting around thinking of something HUGE I can do for God, and beating myself up for failing to do something massive and awe-inspiring. I just want to take every opportunity to do small things as often as possible, and then pray that God will multiply my efforts and grow fruit from the tiny seeds that have been sewn.

After all....

"Anyone can count the seeds in an apple, but only God can count the number of apples in a seed." -Robert Schuller

Saturday Through my Lens

2012-01-28T19:37:00.000-08:00

"Licking the bowl clean."

"The Perfect Back Scratcher"

"Antelope"

"Looking North East"

"Loner"

"Nerd."

"Old Shipping Corral"

"Snowy Pasture"

"Ducks on the Pond"

THE END.

7 Random Things

2012-01-25T20:17:00.000-08:00

1. I chewed approximately 20 pieces of Dubble Bubble Gum at my son's ball game last Saturday. The stuff is tasty, but the flavor only lasts for like 2 minutes. This means that you have to spit it out and get a new piece every few minutes to keep the flavor sensation going. Imagine my horror when I saw the back of the bag and realized that each piece has 20 calories. That doesn't sound like much, but when you have to eat 1/4 of the bag to get you through the ball game, it adds up quickly! I think I'll let the kids eat the Dubble Bubble and I'll stick to the grown-up stuff. Plus, my jaw hurt that night. When I'm chewing Dubble Bubble, I feel like a cow chewing her cud.

2. My son just finished reading "Where the Red Fern Grows" by Wilson Rawls for a book report. I know that he really read the book and didn't fake it because after he closed the book and I asked him to tell me about it, he got all teary eyed. The book has a really sad ending, and I remember crying when I read it 24 years ago. Sad dog books just get me right in the gut! Apparently, they pull at my son's heart-strings too. Every night he stayed up late reading in his bed. Ordinarily I'd tell him to turn the light off, but I know what it's like to be wrapped up in a good book and I didn't want to squelch his love of reading. I decided to just turn a blind eye to the light shining down the hallway.

3. My girl's got strep throat. Blah! The poor thing. She's my toughest kid when it comes to getting sick. She rarely complains about not feeling well, so when she came to me with a headache, sore throat, and ear-ache, I didn't wait long to get her in to the doctor. For some odd reason, she doesn't fit the mold when it comes to strep. She gets it twice as much as my other kids and doesn't get any type of fever with it. She's also the kid who once woke up in the middle of the night with an ear-ache, and by the time the doctor's office opened, she busted an ear drum. So when she said she had both an ear-ache and a sore throat, I got her right in to the doctor. I'm glad I did! Hopefully she'll be on the mend soon.

4. I've been on a crusade to fill half of my family's plate with vegetables at every lunch and dinner. It's been going well except for when we eat Mexican Food. Somehow, broccoli, carrots, and salad don't seem to go well with tamales. When my family was walking through the junk food aisle at Walmart the other day, my kids asked if they could each pick out something to put in the cart. I said, "No, but I'll tell you what...when we get to the produce section, I'll let you pick out any vegetable you want!!!" Needless to say, that didn't go over too well. Hey, you win some and you lose some.

5. I can see patches of dead grass in my yard for the first time since November. I'm sick of seeing dirty snow. It either needs to all melt, or a fresh storm needs to cover it up with white beauty again. Not that I'm being picky or anything.

6. I failed to mention that our old hens went to be with Jesus awhile back. It was time. They were ancient, and not laying any more eggs. I'm only sharing this because our two new hens haven't started to lay yet, and I've had to buy eggs at the store for the first time in ages! *GASP* Oh, the horror! There is a huge difference between fresh eggs and Walmart eggs and I forgot how good we had it with our supply of fresh eggs every day. I'm counting the days until these young gals start laying. We'll get more chicks in the spring, but these two gals have got to start stepping up to the plate in the mean time. Any day now, they can start giving me their little hen berries. After all, with the old ladies gone, they've got the whole chicken mansion to themselves.

7. I'm slightly irritated that right now in my town, diesel is over 60 cents more per gallon than gas. That ain't right, folks. Do you remember the good ole' days when diesel was cheaper than gas? My husband remembers filling his truck up in college and when the price of gas went to $1.38/ gallon he thought it would break him. HaHaHa! Now we'd be doing the happy dance if it was that cheap.

A Fun Purchase!

2012-01-23T20:13:00.000-08:00

"Never spend your money before you have it."- Thomas Jefferson

We've been carefully saving our nickels, dimes, birthday money, and Christmas cash, for months and months and we finally had enough money to make our big purchase!

This weekend we bought a brand new shotgun!!!!

It's a Semi-automatic 12 Gauge Remington 1100 Sporting Shotgun with a 28" barrel and an interchangeable choke. We can't wait to use it!

The wood on the stock is gorgeous!

I think that working hard to save up money for things makes you appreciate them more.

For quite some time, we've wanted to get a shotgun of good quality that could be passed down to our kids or grand-kids one day, and we did a lot of research before making our purchase. There are many newer models out there, and we considered many other brands, but in the end, we decided to stick with a classic gun that has a history of great performance.

My Grandpa bought his 1100 in 1965 when they were still new on the market. He traded a pistol for his shotgun, and he still has it to this day.

My dad has owned a Remington 1100 since 1969, and he bought it new for $165.00. Wow! Times have changed! For the last 43 years it has just been a great all-around shotgun for him. When he was 15 years old he worked at the local Rod and Gun Club, and Remington supplied several 1100's for them to loan out to people shooting trap and skeet. Remington's only stipulation was that they were not allowed to clean the guns, and they had to keep track of how many rounds went through them. The 1100's were new and they wanted to see how well they held up. By the time my dad left, those guns had over 12,000 rounds shot through them with no malfunctions and no cleanings. That's over 480 boxes of shells!

The same year he bought his shotgun, my dad used it to become the Colorado State Junior Skeet Champion. He and my grandpa were also the Colorado State Father/Son Skeet Champions of the year. They both shot their Remington 1100's.

I grew up in a family of avid sportsmen, and I have fond memories of many Saturdays spent at the shooting range. My brother and I would have friendly shooting competitions with our cousins under the watchful eyes of my dad, grandpa, and uncles. We put up paper targets and shot rifles and muzzle loaders while my grandpa looked to see where each shot hit the target with a pair of binoculars. Then we'd line up and shoot pistols at tin cans and closer targets. The winner had bragging rights and got to keep the paper target for proof.

I distinctly remember my dad and grandpa gently telling me to "squeeeeeze the trigger" so I didn't jerk it and miss the target when I was a young girl. Those were important lessons!

But my favorite competitions have always involved shooting clay pigeons with shotguns. Often times, my dad sits in the back of the truck with a clay pigeon thrower and we shoot away until we run out of either shells or clays. It's great family fun!

Now that our kids are getting older, we'd love to pass on the love of shooting sports with them as well. My dad passed down his 20 gauge shotgun to our son this Christmas, and our boy was so excited with his new gun that he had tears in his eyes.

My husband also has a shotgun passed down from his dad. Add our new gun to the mix and we have enough for several people to hunt together without having to share guns. In addition to hunting birds, our kids can't wait to try their hand at 4-H shooting sports.

We hope to have many years of enjoyment with our new shotgun!

Nell

Just Another Day at the Vet's Office

2012-01-20T21:15:00.000-08:00

We made a "family" trip to our tiny little vet office today. The pets were due for Rabies vaccines, and we had several errands to run in town so we decided to bring the whole family along. It was slightly comical, to say the least.

We looked like rednecks coming through the door. Our dogs always work right beside us so we never use leashes. I don't even know if we own any. In order to stay in compliance with the "All dogs must be on a leash" sign, we had to grab a set of reins from our tack wall as a makeshift leash. But hey....it's better than using bailing twine! My inquisitive kids couldn't wait to take the pets for an adventure at the vet's office!

Imagine SEVEN people (including the doctor and vet tech), two dogs, and one cat in an exam room the size of the handicap stall in a Walmart bathroom. It was a TIGHT squeeze. All of the body heat made the room feel like a stuffy inferno.My oldest daughter carried the cat in a tiny little cage and when the vet tech pulled Miss Kitty out, pieces of hay went all over the exam table. The worst part is...I don't even know where the hay came from!

And the smell.... well, lets just say that the only baths my cow dogs ever get are from swimming in the irrigation water, and well.... the ditch shut down in September. There was a definite canine perfume in the air.

The vet told me that Boone (our14 year old dog) was in pretty good shape for the shape he's in. Totally deaf, nearly blind, a few growths, but his ticker is still ticking pretty good. I told the vet that since they told me Boone was dying four years ago, I consider every day a gift!

After the exams were finished, my husband just couldn't control himself and HAD to ask the vet a question to settle a little arguement we've had going on about the cows.( I bet vets hate settling husband/wife disputes! LOL!)

We got a load of new cows last month and had to treat one for ringworm. I told my husband that he shouldn't just put the cream on his finger and rub it on the cow without some sort of gloves on. Totally gross. He said that you can't get ringworm from cows. We've been cussin' and disscussin' the issue for weeks now, and he just couldn't wait to ask the vet.

The vet said that it's "unlikely" that you could get ringworm from a cow...a cat, yes....a cow, probably not. Then he said that cows get a slightly different strain of ringworm than humans.

"Unlikely" and "probably not" are not definitive enough answers for me.

I say, why chance it? Just rub the athlete's foot cream on the cow with a paper towel or a little stick to be safe. Who actually wants to find out about ringworm the hard way? (And there you have it. THIS is what husbands and wives discuss when they are doctoring cows in the chute.)

When we FINALLY left the exam room, the people in the waiting room chuckled. It looked like we were all stuffed in a clown car and people and pets just kept pouring out of the room, one after another.

Let's just say that we left an impression at the vet's office. Thankfully the vet is very nice, down to earth, and quite understanding when it comes to children, pets, and marital disputes.

(You can all sleep better tonight knowing that cows "probably" won't give you ring worm. Hahaahaa!)

Nell

Quick and Easy Tissue Holder

2012-01-18T21:42:00.000-08:00

I found the cutest project for my daughter to make on Martha Stewart.Com. It's the perfect craft for teaching beginning hand sewing. We had so much fun making these and can't wait to give them away as Valentine gifts.

Here's the link to the project on Martha's site:

Martha Stewart Hankie Holder

Here's how ours turned out. We made these for about 50 cents each. Cheap, fun and cute!

Start with a 7" x 5.5" piece of felt. Trim the edges with pinking shears.

Next, fold the felt so that the sides meet in the middle. Pin both sides folded flat.

Using embroidery floss, do a simple running stitch along both edges to make a pouch.

It will look like this when finished.

Then use some left over felt to make an embellishment. Flowers with a button in the middle, initials, and butterflies would all be cute.

Pin it on and sew it with a running stitch.

Put in a package of pocket sized tissue, and you're done!

I've seen these made with cotton fabrics as well. They sure make tissue packets look cuter.

Have a beautiful day!

Nell

Thanks!

2012-01-17T20:59:00.000-08:00

I'm back!

I didn't mean to take such a long break from blogging but alas, my household was sick with a nasty stomach bug. When Mama's up until 1:00am several nights in a row holding the puke bucket for her babies and consoling them that "this too shall pass", I lose all track of time. I lose all blogging inspiration. I lose all the headway I made with housework. I lose my will to cook.

But all is right again, and I will pick up where I left off. I shall return to the blogging world, and I shall conquer the cleaning!

Did you know that this is my 400th blog post? When I saw this, the first thing that went through my mind was, "WOW! I didn't know I had so much random junk to write about!" 400 blog posts ago, my mom was my only reader and she faithfully commented on all of my posts. Now I have many wonderful visitors and I just want to say that I APPRECIATE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!!!!

I read every one of your comments, and they make my day! I love your messages, your thoughts, and your encouragement. You all are FABULOUS, and such a blessing to me!

Thanks for sticking with me through the good, the bad, and the ugly posts. Even though my computer skills are marginal at best and my blog has a complete identity crisis, you have been there in the trenches with me. You have read about everything from cattle to hair products, and about everyone from Jesus to George Strait. You let me prattle on about whatever's on my mind at the moment, and turn a blind eye when I write a myriad of run-on sentences or use too many commas. I'm so thankful for your abundant grace.

YOU'RE THE BEST!

Feeling all warm and fuzzy,

Nell

P.S.- My 401st blog post will be back to business as usual!

Small Town Radio Quirks

2012-01-12T22:25:00.000-08:00

They say "Love is Blind", and I'm here to testify that sometimes it's deaf, too. When my husband first moved me up to this mountain as a young bride, I was in a bit of a culture shock. The first time we drove around looking for houses, I specifically remember thinking that this town had some of the most "Podunk" radio stations I'd ever heard. In fact, my brother once told me that our radio stations were a full decade "behind the times".

My response: "You get used to it!"

But now I'm more than just "used to it". Now, I love them. Now, I find them familiar, fun, and dare I say...comforting.

They are LOADED with hilarious quirks.

Did you know that elk outnumber people in my town, seven to one? We have a local car dealer who advertises religiously on our radio, and he is well aware of this fact, too. Apparently on our mountain, we buy vehicles based on how well they fare in head-on collisions with elk. Accidents involving elk can be serious or even deadly. These animals can stand 5 feet tall at the shoulder and can weigh over a 1000 lbs. A city dealership would never take the "elk collision" angle, but our guys know their demographics, and they know their market. Between every 3 songs, there is a car advertisement with real live "testimonials" of people who have had elk accidents and survived to tell the tale.

Here's an example of one of the commercials. (Names have been changed to protect the innocent.)

"It was late one night and I was driving home. I was going fast and there were two elk in the road. I swerved to miss the first one, but I hit the second one head-on. The truck was totaled but I walked away with no injuries. I was so impressed that I'll never drive anything else again. My name is Ruby Sue and I drive a Toyota Tundra."

Yep. True story.

And another thing:

I find it fascinating that our small town has room for not one, but TWO country stations. Yes sir, we're hicks who love our western music. But even among country fans, there is discord in the ranks. That is why both stations have designated hours to play country oldies. One station has an afternoon show called "Country Classics with Cindy" and the other station has the "My Kind of Country" radio show once a week where folks call in and request the golden oldies from Hank, Willie, and Patsy Cline. The show always ends with the classic,"Happy Trails".

This reminds me of the timeless church war that all congregations have with the older folks insisting on singing only the old hymns, and the young whipper snappers wanting modern worship tunes. I guess the battle has leaked over into the secular side as well with country music.

All I have to say is, "Can't we all just get along?"

We also have this daily show at lunch that my husband is addicted to. It's called "Tradio". It's basically an on-air yard sale where people call in to sell their junk. The men-folk LOVE it. During lunch break on the mountain, men huddle around the radio in their work trucks and tune in while eating their sandwiches.

Here's a glimpse of how it goes:

DJ-"Hello, You're on Tradio!"

Caller- "Um yes, I've got a 1974 Ford Bronco up on blocks...needs a little work and a set of tires. I'm asking $750 or best offer on that. I'd also trade for a bass boat in good condition. While I'm at it, I've got an old Stihl chain saw, a rototiller, and a winch...all in pretty good shape. I'm askin' $300 for the package deal. If you're interested, call Bill at 555-1234. Thank ya."

Every day, my son or my husband approaches me with a "smokin' deal" that he heard about on "Tradio".

Unless you're hiding under a rock, you'll also know exactly when hunting season rolls around in our town. The radio is flooded with advertisements for this year's "must-have" supplies including bows, rattler bags, camouflage, some substance called deer cocaine, and elk urine in a bottle from our one and only archery shop. I don't shoot a bow, but if I ever did, I've been influenced enough by local radio into thinking that I must buy the "Matthews Solo- Cam" for optimal hunting performance. Now I know why every hunting season costs us an arm and a leg! The men in my house are bombarded with advertisements that make them feel as if their hunting supplies are inferior, and they will be unprepared without the newest things on the market.

Anyway, whether it's a group of lady DJ's chatting about the day's lunch special at the diner, or the local Forest Service giving the latest fire conditions, or the Girl Scouts advertising their canned food drive, or the Rotary Club having a pancake breakfast, our radio is loaded with informative tid- bits for folks who live on this mountain.

Our stations aren't perfect, but they're filled with small town charm.... and that's why I'll continue to tune in regularly.

Confessions of a Complainer

2012-01-11T22:37:00.000-08:00

Folding socks is about as exciting as scrubbing toilets, and I was on my second load of the day. With the laundry basket next to me, I mindlessly and mechanically folded pair after pair as I quizzed my first grader about her spelling words.

I'm ashamed to say that I have uttered more than my fair share of whiny objections to doing the laundry in the past, and my friends have had to speak the truth in love to me about this on several accounts. I've been told that I should be thankful I have clothes to wear, and a houseful of loved ones to care for. They've pointed out to me that a load of laundry takes a mere 8 minutes to fold and put away. One friend even suggested to me that I should thank the Good Lord for every one of my family members and pray for their needs as I fold each piece of their clothing.

I've slowly taken these slaps on the wrist with a wet noodle to heart. I know darn good and well that I'm blessed beyond measure, and I've mostly quit bellowing about my loathe for laundry. Occasionally I catch myself gazing longingly out the window, fantasizing about working outside in the fresh air and sunshine. Then my mind whirls back to the17 socks sitting in front of me without a mate, and I go on a quest to find them under the beds and behind the couches.

But this is happening less, and less....that is, the fantasy of being outdoors, not the matchless socks. I do find myself being more content with the daily grind of housework.

In fact, this morning I pulled a new pair of my Christmas socks out of the laundry basket and actually laughed out loud.

These could quite possibly be the ugliest socks in my wardrobe and my husband gave me two pairs, with love, for Christmas. They are the perfect shade of Cream of Wheat with Oscar the Grouch green accents.

I absolutely LOVE them!

Do you know why I love them?

I love them because my sweetheart of a fella went to Western Drug and hand-selected them from a whole wall of socks with me in mind. He wanted to buy something heavy-duty to keep my feet warm in my boots during the long winter.

The same man who bought me this cowhide purse simply for its beauty...

also bought me two pairs of heavy duty work socks purely for their practicality. They're toasty, and soft, and never slip down when I'm wearing boots. Would I have picked them out for myself? Nope. I pay little mind to my socks, but my husband was looking out for me. I now wear them with pride and honor.

My husband not only treats me with special things that I want, but he also gets me the practical things that I need. He takes good care of me.

Every day, he crawls out of bed before dawn, puts his work clothes on, takes care of the livestock, and works hard outside in snow, rain, heat, and wind. He puts in an honest day's muscle to provide for his family at home, and I'm honored to wash his muddy Wranglers and filthy shirts. I'm thankful that because of his hard work, I can stay at home with our kids and take care of our house.

Whenever I start to grumble, I think about my abundant blessings and thank the Lord for things like my Oscar the Grouch green socks and for my husband who so thoughtfully picked them out with my comfort and needs in mind.

Folding Socks with a Smile,

Nell

A Random Snapshot of my Life

2012-01-10T10:13:00.000-08:00

Today, I've decided to post a little snapshot of life. Join along, if you'd like!

1.What I'm reading today:

My Bible...trying to read through it again this year.

"The Loveliness of Christ" by Samuel Rutherford... Short extracts from the letters of the great seventeenth- century Scottish Christian, Samuel Rutherford. ( This is a little book full of sparkling jewels to ponder!)

Magazines: Western Horseman, Beef Magazine, Homeschooling Magazines, Farm and Ranch Magazine

Bible Study- "With the Master; In Fullness of Joy" A Ladies Bible study on Philippians... We start this next week, so I'll let you know how it goes.

2. What I'm listening to in the truck:

"Hank the Cowdog"audio books by John Erickson. We are unabashedly huge fans of Hank at our house, and I'm not ashamed to tell you that my husband and I have listened to them and laughed many times when the kids weren't even driving with us. LOL!

3. What I'm loving in the kitchen:

Flour Sack Towels. I love them for so many reasons! They are large, thin, absorbent, and don't give off lint or fuzz when placing them over a rising loaf of bread dough. They're white so they can be bleached, and they're cheap...$5.49 for a pack of 5 at Walmart.

4. What I'm Loving in my Purse:

True Blue Spa Paraffin hand lotion from Bath and Body Works. My cousin bought me this for Christmas, and told me that it had the seal of approval from her husband who is a Dairyman. If it works for a guy who milks cows and is out in the elements all day in the cold Canadian winters, then by golly, I was going to give it a try! All I have to say is, I'm a believer! This stuff is doing wonders for my cracked, withered and chapped cowboy hands! It has Olive, Avocado, and Apricot oils along with vitamin E. It also has paraffin to lock in the moisture. Good stuff!

This is an oldie but a goodie! I have had an ongoing love affair with this CO Bigelow Ultra Mentha Lip Shine from Bath and Body Works for several years now, and in my humble opinion, it's the best of the best! It is refreshingly cool, and ultra minty with 2.3% Peppermint oil, and .2% Field Mint oil. If you wear this and kiss your sweetheart, he'll kiss you back! Guaranteed!

5.The picture on the front of my iphone:

6. My Current Ringtone:

I change ringtones frequently. Here's the latest:

George Strait, "I can't see Texas from Here"....♪♫ I can't see Texas from here, no matter how I try, it makes me wanna die, so if you see me lookin' down, I'm tryin' not to show this frown, cuz..I can't see Texas from here...♪♫

It's a bit "out there" in terms of ringtones, but it embodies my great love of Texas and the fact that I'm far away from it....and it's classic George Strait. You've got to stick with the classics, man!

7. My newest iphone app:

Endomondo Sports Tracker

I can't take credit for this one. Our tech savvy friends told us about this. It tracks my jogging by GPS, and tells me distance, time, calories burned, elevation change, lap time, etc. etc. Bottom line: It was free, it's cool, it tells me if I've burned enough calories to eat a Blizzard at Dairy Queen, and it talks to me while I jog. 'Nuff said!

8. What crafts I'm working on:

Some simple Valentines cards using scraps of fabric sewn to card stock. I'll use them as inspiration for the young gals in our beginning 4H Sewing class who will be making their own cards very soon. Sewing into paper will help them learn control of their machine, while creating something cute that they can make for friends. I'm excited to see their artistic creativity come out in this, their first sewing meeting of the year. I want them to know that sewing isn't just about making curtains and pillowcases...it can be fun and creative too!

9. What my house smells like:

Right now, I'm melting Scentsy "Luna" in my warmer. It has a nice, soft scent. (I'm a candle fanatic and I change the scents in my house on a weekly basis. Good smelling candles and waxes are my weakness! LOL!)

10. The last thing I bought:

A new pair of jeans for my 10 year old son. He's outgrown every pair of Wranglers in his dresser. One of my biggest pet-peeves is seeing people with cowboy boots and high water jeans. It drives me nuts! It's a fashion disaster! Every few months, I have to rescue the boy from embarrassment by buying him longer pants. The damage to my wallet never ends!

How about you? What's going on in your life right now? What are your current favorite things? I'd love to read about them in your blog, or in the comments section of mine!

Happy Tuesday!

Nell

Snow, Cows, Protein Supplements....Just another Winter Day in the Mountains.

2012-01-07T19:16:00.000-08:00

This morning I brought along the camera when we left the house to go check the cows.

I haven't seen the grass in my yard in a very long time because the white stuff won't go away. We've had beautiful 55°F degree days, but the snow isn't leaving.

Our winter pastures are about an hour away at a lower elevation. We drove over the mountain to get away from the frozen tundra so we could check on the "ladies"...

As you can see, they were "checking" me out too. One by one, a few of the brave gals approached me as I squatted in the tall grass. They sniffed my camera and one even fogged up my lens. What a difference a year makes! Last winter they were wild little punk yearlings that tested my patience at every turn. This year, they're eating out of my hand. Such is the life of a heifer.

We're trying a new protein supplement this year. We got a load of these tubs out of Texas, and if the cows do well on them, we may be repeat customers. We've tried all sorts of supplements over the years, from blocks, to licks, to liquid tubs with rollers.

Some are expensive, and some are consumed too quickly. Hopefully this one is just right.

These are pretty reasonably priced, and they seem to be true to their daily consumption estimation guidelines. The picture above is what they initially looked like, and the one below is taken after a week of licking.

I'm anxious to start crunching numbers this summer to see just how well our steers, cows, and heifers do on them. Do any of you lovely blog readers use protein supplements to extend your winter forage? If so, what do you use?

(Sorry that I'm talking about protein supplements on a blog post. This is probably terribly boring to you but I've got to be real. This is our life in the winter time! Cows, cows, cows. I promise that in my next post I won't utter a word about bovines! Deal? Just stick with me.)

After we checked the cows, my son happened to have baseball practice nearby in town. Here's the view from the ball field. You can see the snowline up in the hills off in the distance. The entire team drove an hour from home just to find a field that wasn't covered in snow. Lucky for us, it's near our winter pasture so we killed two birds with one stone. I think my son's traveling baseball team is the equivalent of the Jamaican Bobsled team. For 6 months out of the year, they practice in gymnasiums and travel to the ends of the earth in search of sunshine and a dirt field to play in.

I guess that's life in a rural mountain community. But you know what? I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Nell-The one who bores you with talk of cows and protein supplements.

Darn Good Dinner Rolls

2012-01-05T19:32:00.000-08:00

Dinner roll recipes are a dime a dozen. As a self professed carb-junkie and frequent bread maker, I'm always on the look-out for the next best thing. Sometimes it takes more than a few mediocre attempts before I stumble upon recipe gold. Other times, I can tell that a recipe has "good bones" but just needs a little tweaking to take it from ordinary to extraordinary. I live at high altitude so baking bread can be a bit of a challenge. Often times, recipes that work fine at sea level flop miserably at 7000ft. Over the years I've learned to adapt and overcome!

A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon a dinner roll recipe in an old Family Reunion Cook Book compiled by my mom's Amish and Mennonite side of the family. The recipe was alright, but I re-worked it to make it successful at high elevation. As with most Amish recipes, there were hardly any directions. (They assume that everyone knows how to make bread already.) I'll type the re-worked recipe below and try to be as detailed as possible with the instructions because you know what they say about assuming....

(The pan of dinner rolls I made tonight disappeared so quickly that I had to smack hands just to preserve one for picture taking. I'm sorry that I don't have a photo of the whole pan. They sure turned out pretty. You'll just have to trust me on that! My lousy pictures don't do them justice!)

Darn Good Dinner Rolls

3 teaspoons of Active Dry Yeast (Rapid rise yeast is fine. It'll take more than 1 packet so be sure to measure.)

1/4 cup warm water

1/3 cup sugar

1/4 cup salted sweet cream butter, softened

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup warm milk

1 large egg

4 cups bread flour

1 Tablespoon Vital Wheat Gluten

1 Tablespoon Dough Enhancer

Preheat oven to 375° F

In a mixing bowl, combine warm water and yeast. Stir.

Warm the milk up to around 105° (I microwave it for just under a minute).

Test the temperature of the milk. If it's too hot, it will kill the yeast! Pour the milk in with the water and yeast. Next, add the sugar, softened butter, egg and salt. Stir. ( I use my Kitchen-Aid mixer paddle for this.)

Beat in 4 cups of bread flour, vital wheat gluten, and dough enhancer until a soft dough forms.

Knead the dough for a few minutes. ( I take off the paddle and put on the dough hook attachment for this part. I let the Kitchen Aid knead at speed 2 or 3 for about 3 minutes.) If the dough is really sticking to the sides of the bowl, adjust by adding flour a tablespoon at a time until a nice smooth dough forms. Don't add too much or the rolls will be dense. Less is best!

Next, put the dough into a large mixing bowl sprayed with cooking spray and flip it once to make sure the top of the dough is covered with spray. Cover and let rise in a warm place for 1 1/2 to 2 hours, or until doubled in size.

Punch the dough down and knead it a few times. pull off small chunks of dough and make 24 rounded dough balls.

(Because I'm a perfectionist, I cut the dough circle into 8 equal sized pieces on a cutting board with a knife, and then pull 3 dough balls out of each chunk. That way they are more uniform. You can just follow your bliss!)

Arrange the 24 dough balls into a greased 13x9" rectangular baking dish. Cover with a towel and let rise in a warm place for 30-45 minutes.

Bake @ 375° for 18-20 minutes.

After removing them from the oven, rub butter over the tops.

If you want to take these rolls over the top, and make them OUT OF THIS WORLD, then make this cinnamon honey butter to go with the rolls:

Cinnamon Honey Butter

1 stick salted sweet cream butter, room temperature

1/4 cup honey

1/4 cup powdered sugar

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon.

Whip the ingredients until combined.

Put the Cinnamon Honey Butter on a warm roll, fresh from the oven, and die a thousand delicious deaths. Then repeat with two more rolls and stuff your belly. Then decide that all you really wanted for dinner was rolls, anyway.

Intensive 5K Training Madness!

2012-01-03T21:20:00.000-08:00

Hey! Guess what? I've kept my New Year's Resolutions for 3 whole days! It's got to be some type of record! Only 362 more opportunities left to break them.

Just Kidding.

Today, I want to talk about the moment of temporary insanity I had a few months ago when I somehow flippantly agreed to enter a 5K race with one of my best friends...and our husbands.

She sent me a message on Facebook that said:

Who wants to run in the Chinese New Year 5K with me? It's the Year of the Dragon, don't ya know? There's a colorful dragon t-shirt involved.

They're calling it the Chinese New Year Run and Wok. Get it? Wok?

That's all it took. She knows I can't back down from a challenge. My competitive nature doesn't allow for it. It's like my Kryptonite. She knew I couldn't say no.

Plus, the race had a goofy name and it came with a colorful dragon t-shirt. What cowgirl can resist owning a colorful dragon t-shirt in her wardrobe????

Once I commit to doing something...that's it. I'm all in. Whole hearted. 110% Effort. No turning back.

The timing of this race is impeccable!

It's winter, and we live in the mountains 30 minutes from a ski resort. This means that we're training in heavy snow with sub-arctic temperatures.

I'm running on the frozen tundra with cinders, salt, mud, ice, and snow berms on both sides of the road.

Approximately 6 minutes into my daily jogging adventure I encounter a steep grade hill on my road that might as well be Mt. Everest when you're an out- of-shape 34 year old mother of 3 children.

I wear sweatpants, long johns, two layers of shirts, gloves, and an ear-warming headband. Stylish, it's definitely not, but I feel like the look makes me totally hard-core. I'm like Rocky Balboa training in Russia in the dead of winter to fight Ivan Drago in Rocky IV. I guess you had to see the movie to know what I'm talking about. But I digress.

Training in these harsh winter conditions is giving us all the black lung. After we inhale the cold, arctic air and the occasional exhaust from old diesel trucks passing us on the road, we get some type of smoker's cough for an hour. It's just a small price to pay.

We're running at 7000 ft. elevation. There's practically no oxygen up here. If I were in an airplane, they'd be dropping the breathing masks down from the ceiling right about now.

To add insult to injury, my husband can walk as fast as me when I'm jogging at full throttle. Sometimes he just quits running and starts walking right in front of my face. If I had an ounce of breath left in my lungs, I'd cuss him out, but it takes too much energy. I just give him the stink eye and focus on the road ahead. I can't help it that God did not bless me with a 38" inseam and a giraffe stride. I take 3 steps for every one of his.

And when I get home from jogging, I'm ravenous!!There will be no weight loss from all of this training, so there's no incentive to run for loss of poundage.

NONE OF THIS MATTERS.

It's all a part of my strategy. The race is in Phoenix at 1100 ft. in elevation. It will be a balmy 75 degrees Fahrenheit, and the streets are paved with sunshine. When we go down there, we'll shed off our snow suits and jog in string bikinis. Totally kidding. We'll wear jogging shorts with our fluorescent white legs to distract the competition. We'll be able to breathe in the thick, oxygen-rich air and it will fill our lungs and red blood cells with life sustaining POWER! Our legs will move like a roadrunner, and we will cruise through the streets at full speed to the finish line, where our colorful dragon T-shirts will be waiting for us.

The Chinese New Year Run/ Wok won't even know what to do with us, we'll run so fast!!!!

Kidding. Again.

The truth is, I'm an out of shape mom, who used to be a high school track star. In my mind, I still run like the wind, but in reality, jogging kicks my booty. I'm training everyday just so I can complete the race in one piece without doing any permanent bodily damage. I'm glad it's called the Chinese Run/ Wok....emphasis on "Wok" because that's what I may end up doing. I've got over a month of training left, so there's still time for a miracle. I may just be able to run the whole darn thing, and totally impress myself.

In it to win it,

Nell

Happy Moooo Year!

2012-01-01T20:44:00.000-08:00

I'd like to introduce you to cow #711. She's a real hoot of an Angus!

Never one to shy away from attention, she loves to pose for the camera!

Here, she's gazing off into the distance with her raven fur shining in the sun.

As soon as she knew I was photographing her, she started acting like a dork!

Here are the many faces of #711

Finally, she decided to act like a lady, and give me one good glamour shot!

"Happy Moooo Year!"

Running the Race

2011-12-30T22:54:00.000-08:00

"Being sensible that I am unable to do anything without God's help, I do humbly entreat him by his grace to enable me to keep these Resolutions, so far as they are agreeable to his will, for Christ's sake." -Jonathan Edwards

I just finished reading the 70 Resolutions of Jonathan Edwards, written in 1723. All I can say is, WOW. They put all other resolutions to shame. You can read them here, if you want to be inspired.

I've always looked at the seasons of my life as a marathon race. There are easy stretches with the wind at my back where I feel refreshed. There are uphill climbs that burn my thighs and cause me to gasp for air, downhill coasts that allow me to catch my breath, and the occasional long, flat, boring lengths when the scenery never changes and my mind begins to wander.

This year, I feel like I tripped on my shoe lace, got hit by a truck, and rolled into the ditch in the middle of the race. It took me a while to get back up on my feet again. I've got some road rash, some band-aids, and I've shed a few tears, but I'm limping on towards the goal.

Today, my resolutions are more about getting back into the race. I know what I've got to do, and I know that I can't do it on my own. As Jonathan Edwards so eloquently put it, I've got to "humbly entreat him [God] by his grace to enable me to keep these Resolutions". Without the Lord's help, they're all just little wishes on a piece of paper.

Some of my resolutions are BIG! I think it's healthy to make long-term goals that take more than a year to accomplish, but I always break them down into small, bite sized pieces that I can chip away at... one year at a time, one day at a time, one step at a time.

My ultimate resolution is to glorify God in everything that I think, say, and do. Whether my goal is to study my Bible more, take better care of my body, reach out to others, or save more money, it should be to the glory of God. Otherwise, it's all for nothing.

I'm looking forward to the race in front of me. I'm excited to pursue things that matter to God! I'm challenged to live each day to the fullest!

Lacing up my running shoes,

Nell

The Danger of Testing Out Your Children's New Toys

2011-12-28T11:51:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year when parents are obligated to perform a rigorous trial-testing of all of their children's new toys...but purely for safety reasons, of course.

Not for pleasure.

No. That would be wrong. Very Wrong.

My kids got some new games for the Wii from their grandparents. The games were called, "Just Dance" and "Just Dance III". After watching them dance to a few songs, we became concerned that the remotes were malfunctioning because their scores were very low.

We did what any concerned parents would do.

We ripped the remotes out of their tiny little hands and had a fierce dance competition!

Because of my competitive nature and my impetuous need to win at all costs, I hesitated to accept the challenge. This is the one area that my husband could really kick my tail. He's got moves. John Travolta moves. Patrick Swayze moves. Twirl your partner 'round the floor moves. It's one of the reasons I married him....so we could dance in the kitchen with our socks on.

He selected a totally random song, "Eye of the Tiger". It's the one from the Rocky movies, so naturally the dance we performed was full of boxing moves.

We punched, we shuffled, we shook our hips. We even did "Jazz hands".

The whole song, our scores were neck in neck.

The dance meters were overflowing with bonus points!

The kids were cheering. My husband was sweating. I was huffing and puffing. It was intense!

In the end, my husband beat me by a hair. I'm telling you...he's got moves!

We were so exhausted after all of the boxing moves that we agreed to hand the remotes back over to the children.

Yesterday, we were so sore that we could hardly get out of bed. We could hardly bend over. We were sore in places we didn't know we could be sore in.

As soon as the muscle spasms and tightness go away, we're going to have a "Just Dance" re-match.

This time we'll wait until after the kids go to bed so we get the Wii to ourselves.
This time I'll choose the song.
This time, I shall be victorious!

MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

See? My Man is always taking every opportunity to "dip" me. I told you he's got moves!

The Best, Worst, and Funniest of Christmas

2011-12-26T10:04:00.000-08:00

The Best of Christmas:

My husband bought me a new American West Cowhide Handbag!!!!!!

Hello Gorgeous! I've been waiting sooo very long for you.

I know that Cowhide isn't for everyone, but when it comes to purses, I like to walk on the wild side!

The Worst of Christmas:

My brother bought my husband this Michael Bolton Concert Shirt circa 1994 from the thrift store as a gag gift. It's a women's size XL. The worst part is that my tough, cowboy husband is secure enough in his manhood to wear it out in public with absolutely NO shame at all! When he lifts his arms up, it shows his belly button! I sent him to the grocery store early in the morning, and was completely mortified to see that he wore the dreaded apparel to the store, despite laughter and weird looks from strangers.

I don't even know what to say about this picture.

The Funniest of Christmas:

The annual Chia Pet exchange went beautifully. For those of you who are new to the blog, my brother and I have been exchanging an Elmer Fudd Chia pet back and forth for 12 years.

After surgically extracting the Chia Pet from last year's decoy, I wrapped it up in ordinary Christmas wrapping, and then put it in a Christmas gift sack.

My brother had his "Chia Radar" tuned all the way up, and was leery of opening any gifts from me. I secretly chuckled when he unwrapped his real gift because he was SURE it was the Chia. It wasn't. When the gift exchanging was over and the Chia hadn't made its appearance, Mega-Mind was flabbergasted! I didn't say a word. I left the gift-wrapped package down at my Dad's house, and made my way back up the mountain.

Here's how the whole thing went down: On Christmas day, while I was 220 miles away and enjoying the festivities with my husband's side of the family, my side of the family was gathering at my Dad's house for Prime Rib. I knew that my brother would never open a suspicious gift from me, so I had to enlist the help of someone innocent. I had my grandpa hand the gift to my brother. He conjured up some great story about it being a gift for the baby from one of his neighbors. He bought it...hook, line, and sinker! When the wrapping paper fell to the floor, he knew that he'd been hoodwinked! MWAhahahahaha!!( Evil laugh).

Mega-Mind, if you're reading this blog, I have a simple, heartfelt message:

This year, I'm starting a new Christmas tradition of "Hope and Change". I "hope" you "change" your mind about your Christmas gift. The Chia belongs to YOU.

(I owe my Grandpa another batch of Oatmeal Raisin Cookies for his help in my plot because the word on the street is that my brother ate his first batch as retaliation for the evil deed.)

Basking in Chia Pet Glory,

Nell

Not the Brightest Idea...

2011-12-22T19:52:00.000-08:00

When I woke up this morning, it was snowing outside. Again. I guess that's what happens when you live in the mountains above 7000ft. Yet, all of the locals agree that they can't remember ever having this much snow in December.

Even though it was snowing, it was also a mere 3 days until Christmas, and I just HAD to get to Walmart for some last minute baking supplies.

When I pulled out onto my road, I saw something in the trees.

Upon further inspection, I found a group of turkeys hanging out by my house! Did you know that the proper thing to say is that I saw a "rafter of turkeys" hanging out by my house...like a "gaggle of geese" or a "flock of pigeons"?

See? You can actually learn things by reading this blog. Go ahead and say the word "rafter" the next time you see turkeys.

It will impress your friends.

Or, they'll think you're totally weird.

Anyway, I digress. When I left the house, the snowflakes were teeny tiny. The weather reports said 1-2" of snow the last time I checked.

By the time I got to the highway, things were getting a bit hairy on the road. People were sliding off everywhere. Thank the Lord for 4 wheel drive.

(In the interest of full disclosure, my 10 year old son took these photos from the back seat of the truck. I was busy driving with both hands on the steering wheel...thank you very much. I'm always thinking about public safety.)

A few minutes later....White out. This is about the time that I was thinking to myself, "Self, are Christmas baking supplies so important that you are willing to risk sliding off the road for them?"

I had no idea that the weather would turn so quickly.

But I forged ahead in my big truck with the wipers going full speed. I was in too deep. I had to complete my mission. When I turned into the Walmart parking lot...low and behold.... all of north eastern Arizona, and half of western New Mexico was there too! It was like all of us were making a death defying journey to the promised land.

The place was packed like an alleyway full of steers at the sale barn. My husband always has the urge to start mooing like cattle whenever we're in a crowd of people. I refrained.

I was prepared, though.

This ain't my first "Walmart at Christmas" Rodeo!

No sir! My six year old slid under the cart where the dog food goes, my 9 year old rode drag, and my 10 year old scouted ahead of the herd for openings. Then I'd throw an elbow into the crowd and say,"Ho,Ho, Ho!"

Totally kidding about that last part. I try to be extra cheerful when I'm shopping in a crowd. I always wear festive pins and I tell everyone, "Merry Christmas"!

After checking out, my kids and I schlepped our purchases through the snow covered parking lot to the very back where we parked the truck. Carts don't travel through heavy snow too well. We made the white knuckled journey back home, and when I pulled into the driveway, I let out a sigh of relief and thanked the Lord for our safe travels.

From the time I returned from my death defying adventure, I've been inside my warm house, baking all evening. First, I made these delicious Cherry Cheesecake cookies. They're a new recipe that I've been eyeing for 6 weeks. They have so many steps to them that they take hours and hours to make, so I had to pick a day when I had hours and hours of spare time. Today was not the day, but I did the steps in between other activities.

I also made a batch of these peanut butter cookies for tomorrow. I hope there are a few left by morning. They're disappearing before my eyes!

I've got much more baking to do, so I'd better get to it!

Hope everyone is having a lovely Christmas week!

Nell

Delivering Beef for Christmas

2011-12-21T07:39:00.000-08:00

Today, with the help of my three little elves, I'm going to deliver some beef to a few people on our Christmas list. Dairy producers give cheese, farmers give fruit and nuts, and ranchers give roasts. LOL! Our gifts of beef were home-grown, and raised with love for over a year. We're so excited to share our bounty with good friends.

(We've even got some smoked beef bones for some of our canine friends!)

I'm so giddy that my babies are BACK! They had a ball at their grandparents' house, and I got lots of things crossed off on my "To Do" list while they were away, but I missed them so much! I'm excited to have a noisy, boisterous house again.

Grandma sent me these frequent photo updates while they were gone. They had a full schedule of activities! Grandma bought them new winter hats, and they all made a snow family.

They also went Christmas shopping, baked cookies, took a hike, made crafts, and went Christmas Caroling at the Senior Center.

Pop Pop and Grandma must be EXHAUSTED!

We're off to deliver Christmas cheer! I hope your week is going well!

Nell

So Much to Enjoy on this Snowy Day!

2011-12-19T08:51:00.000-08:00

It's Monday morning, and I woke up to an eerily quiet house. It's snowing heavily outside...again.... and the only sounds I hear are coming from a crackling fire in the wood stove. The kids went to spend the night at Pop Pop and Grandma's house, and my husband left early this morning to go and work out in the white stuff.

So what's a girl to do with a WHOLE day by herself?

1. Turn on some Christmas tunes! The house is way too quiet without the kids.

2. Work on the Christmas letter and Christmas cards since I have the little lap-top all to myself, today.

3. Procrastinate Christmas shopping for one more day. Heavy snow + shopping = No fun.

4. Wrap some gifts.

If I get the first 4 things on my list completed, then I'm going to try a new cookie recipe!

This weekend we had dinner with friends on Friday night. During dessert, my husband used us all as his audience so he could record himself making a persuasive speech for one of his on-line business communication courses. On Saturday morning, my friends and I went shopping at some of our favorite shops on the mountain, and then out to lunch at a delicious cafe. It was so much fun, and we love to support local business! Saturday night, the kids had a church swim party at the (indoor) pool, and we got a little shopping done. My husband finished his 15 page paper, and he now has a small break before his next semester starts. Hallelujah!

Sunday morning, we woke up early for church. It was our family's turn to light the advent wreath on stage while my husband read from the book of Luke. There's only one candle left to light! My husband and I attended a Christmas party without the kids, then dinner and games with friends.

What a busy weekend!

I can't wait for the exciting week ahead filled with church, baking, family, friends, and gift giving! I'd better get started on those Christmas cards, or they'll never arrive on time!

Nell

Of Cows and Christmas Parties

2011-12-13T21:56:00.000-08:00

1. We moved the "ladies" over the hills and through the woods to Grandmother's house... OK... a few miles from grandmother's house to be exact. They were so happy to be out of the deep snow that they actually frolicked when we unloaded them. Frolicking cows and frisky heifers are one of my favorite sights to see.

2. We attempted to take our Christmas picture with a tripod and our new handy-dandy remote. Obviously this will NOT be one of the finalists for this year's card. My husband couldn't get the remote to work, and the kids were goofing off when the camera finally snapped. All I have to say is that family photographers are grossly underpaid for the grief they endure. Getting five people to all smile and have their eyes open in the same photo is a daunting task. We had snow blindness in one location, high winds that blew our hair in our mouth at another, and curious cows fighting and pooping in the background of another. Just keep this in mind if you receive one of our cards.

3. Later that evening, my husband and I had a date at his company Christmas party. Here we are enjoying the merriment of the evening. If you don't recall from last year's Christmas Party Post, it's held at our local steak house. The one that a famous country singer comes to when he's elk hunting on our mountain. He wears Wranglers and his initials are G.S. That's all I'm going to say about it.

4. Here, my husband and his friend /co-worker were asked to entertain the masses with a few Christmas carols and cowboy songs. They're sort of local celebrities, except they don't make millions and own a ranch in Texas. But they do hang out at the same steak house as someone who does.

5. My husband bought a bag of heavy winter socks from Western Drug for the Christmas gift exchange. We always buy a gift we want so that if there's nothing opened that we like, we just pick our own gift. It's called "Stra-tee-gery". :) I was sure that no one else would want a bag of socks, but we had endured a long day of picture taking so I didn't argue with my husband when he bought them. Turns out, the socks were a big hit and got stolen the maximum number of times. Who knew a sack of socks would be so popular? Several guys requested for my husband to pick some up for them the next time he goes to Western Drug. We ended up with a great cook book in the gift exchange so I consider it a win/win situation...although my husband would have rather had the socks.

6. My computer is still dead, and I'm still forced to share the little lap-top with my husband who is writing a 15 page paper for one of his college courses. This is the final week of the semester, so he's totally hogging it from me. It's as if he thinks "college" is more important than writing ridiculous little blogs. Can you believe it?!? Totally Kidding. I think a new computer is on our horizon, and it can't get here soon enough! Sharing a lap-top is cramping my blogging style...not to mention that I don't have enough space to upload pictures for editing.

7. I'm only 3/10ths of the way done with Christmas shopping and it's T-minus11 days until Christmas. AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For the Glory of the King

2011-12-12T15:31:00.000-08:00

Last night, my trio of cuties starred in a beautiful Christmas musical at church along with the rest of their fabulous homeschool co-op. Whenever you dress up little kids like characters from the Nativity, it's gonna be adorable, no matter what! They worked hard, and did such a great job!

They've been practicing for the big performance all semester in music class, and every day at home. Whenever three kids play a musical CD every day, the entire household can't help but learn all of the songs.

My girls were each in a duet with one of their friends. My middle daughter was so excited to sing her song, and she looked precious on that stage.

My son was one of the main characters who narrated the musical. We were so proud of him! Four years ago, we paid $50 for him to be in a music class and he refused to even move his lips. This year, not only did he sing but he also memorized pages of lines for his part. This boy really moved out of his comfort zone in this area. He loves sports, but singing is not his first choice of extracurricular activities, so it meant the world to us that he put forth his best effort to have a great performance.

( He did shed a small tear over having to wear a tie, but we let him wear his cowboy boots and buckle instead of making him wear shiny black church shoes. It's all about compromise with boys. LOL!)

My baby was so cute to watch. Look at those little hands.

My oldest daughter looked heavenly in her angel costume. She practiced so much, and sang her songs all day long as she did school, chores, and played around the house. She took her job very seriously!

My baby sang "Away in a Manger" with one of her friends, and the crowd just melted. Her soft little voice was just precious to this mama.

The Musical was called "For the Glory of the King", and the kids did a great job of sharing the true meaning of Christmas with the audience. It was a beautiful night.

"Pretzel Jesus" Shares a Timeless Lesson

2011-12-09T07:54:00.001-08:00

My Mother-in-Law has a sentimental side, and there are many treasures in my in-laws' home that carry wonderful memories with them. Many things around their house serve as reminders of special people, family history, fun times, and milestone moments.

Their Christmas Tree is no different. You won't find boxes of generic ornaments and trendy Christmas balls hanging on its branches. Instead, you will find 4 decades of family memories dangling in the midst of twinkling lights. It's the kind of tree that tells a story. A number of times, my family has stood around the tree while my husband recites the history about the different ornaments he made as a kid. He talks about watching the train that used to chug slowly around the tree, and about the Nativity Set that he and his siblings played with under the glowing lights. They have many Nativity sets through-out the house, but baby Jesus never makes his appearance in them until Christmas.

Recently, my Mother-in-Law decided to put all of her Nativity ornaments on a special little tree to highlight their beauty. Among the gold, crystal and wooden ornaments lies three family favorites. They don't look like much to the untrained eye, but they are true treasures to the family.

This is Pretzel Jesus. He holds the highest honor among the ornaments on the tree.

Pretzel Jesus was a preschool project made by one of the kids at church over 30 years ago! The fact that it is still mostly intact after three whole decades is a testament to it's high quality craftsmanship. Evidently, Elmer's glue and glitter will preserve virtually anything. They just don't make craft projects like this anymore! Some of you may wonder why Jesus is oddly surrounded by pretzels. It has significance, of course!

The Legend of the Pretzel

In the early centuries of the Church, Christians would fast on bread and water during the seasons of Advent and Lent. One day a creative young Italian monk rolled his Lenten dough of water, flour and salt into the shape of two arms crossed in prayer. He called his new bread bracellae-- little arms--in Latin. German Christians called these breads bretzels, and over time, they became known as pretzels!

Below you will find another family favorite: Popsicle Stick Jesus.

This Nativity ornament is made by recycling old Christmas cards and framing them with Popsicle sticks. It's a timelessly classic; a church craft project made by one of the kids as well.

And finally, they have an ornament that we refer to as "Hair Ball Jesus".

"Hair Ball Jesus" is a newer addition to the tree. A few years back, several of the womenfolk got together to go on the annual Christmas Home Tour in our town. After the last house was seen, we went shopping at a few of our unique shops on the mountain. At one stop, my MIL's best friend spotted this ornament for sale on the tree and had to show the rest of us. It was so weird, we couldn't determine what it was made of. Finally, someone said, "It looks like Jesus is sleeping in something that the cat coughed up!" We all started laughing to the point of tears! Then we flipped the ornament over to reveal an outrageous price tag! It was like $12.00!!! We all continued to laugh about it the entire drive home, and so my MIL's best friend secretly went back and bought it. She presented it to my MIL as a special gift to remember the laughter and fun they shared on that day.

Seeing the joy that these lowly hand-made ornaments brings to the family serves as a good reminder to me that it's the little things that are important in life. It's not the fancy bows or shining ribbons that make Christmas special. It's celebrating the birth of our Savior surrounded by family and friends. It's looking back on old memories and laughing about the past that bind families together.

Because of this lesson, I don't put the kid's handmade ornaments to the back of the tree. I let the children hang them front and center, knowing that the kids are forming memories with their ornaments. When they're grown and have kids of their own, perhaps they'll stand in front of the tree with their families and re-tell the stories of Christmases long, long ago. They'll remember the loved ones who gave them ornaments, and the teachers who helped them make their own. Above all, they'll realize that the stories behind the ornaments are what make them beautiful, and that the best things in life are priceless.

What Really Freaks You Out?

2011-12-07T07:22:00.001-08:00

Spiders, snakes, heights, germs....everyone has an irrational fear of something, and I think I've finally discovered mine. Every winter, it rears it's ugly head and terrifies me.

Electrocution.

Yep. During the cold season, I'm forced to plug things into the power outlet, and then submerge them into water!!! I know...it goes against everything we all learned as a child! It's in the top 10 things that are taught by moms across the world:

Stop, drop, and roll.
Look both ways before crossing the street.
Don't run with scissors.
Don't touch the stove or you'll get burned.
Wait 30 minutes to swim after eating.
Don't cross your eyes or they'll stay that way.
Never stick your finger in a light socket.
Don't swallow your gum.
Wear clean underwear in case you get into a car accident.
Never submerge electrical things into water or you'll DIE!!!!!!!!!!!

In the last week alone, I've had to plug in a water- pump and submerge it...cord and all... into a river, and then into a water tank MULTIPLE times to haul water to the cows. I've had to plug in a de-icer and submerge it into the chickens' waterer to keep it from freezing. Then, I've had to submerge multiple stock tank heaters into water for the livestock. Each and every time I plug something in and go to submerge it, my mother's words of wisdom scream in my mind! Flashing lights and sirens buzz in my head. It goes against every instinct I have. I break out into a cold sweat.

Consequently, I usually plug the cord in, and sort of toss the heater, letting go before it touches the water. Then I wait for an unsuspecting chicken to come for a drink. If the feathers fly and I hear squawking...I'll run for the breaker box! If all is well, then I know that things are working despite my fears.

The stock tank heaters are the worst because:
a. They are heavily used and deteriorate quickly.
b. There isn't much between the electricity and the water; just a thin piece of rubber and plastic.
c. Curious calves gnaw on things. What if they chew through the cords and ZAP? Dead.

I'm sure that if I had a better understanding of how these things are made, I might not be so worried. Ignorance about electricity is to blame. I'm sure that there are some protective measures in water heaters: like those switches that pop the breaker every time I plug my curling iron, hair dryer, and hot rollers in at the same time. But what if those switches malfunction? What if they're faulty?

Does anyone test these things before they are sold? If so, what is the turn-over rate for a water heater tester and is there hazard pay? In olden times, the king had a royal taste tester/ cup bearer who ate and drank everything before the king did so that if it was laced with poison...the tester was the one to die, and not the king. I guess the chickens sort of serve this purpose, but what about the stock tank heaters... cattle are much more valuable than a chicken. I wouldn't want to lose one.

I'd much prefer to just chip ice every day, but with temperatures in the negative numbers, some things start to freeze solid this time of year. So for the next few months...I have to re-conquer my fear of electricity. I've done it every winter since I've lived in the frozen arctic tundra...and I'm still alive to tell the tale. But I'd like to research some alternative ways to keep the tanks from icing up...that don't involve electricity.

What about you? Do you have a creepy fear of anything? Just shout it out in the comments section...whatever it is. I need to know that I'm not alone in this.

Nell

Ditching the Snow for a Day!

2011-12-05T09:35:00.001-08:00

It's Monday morning, and it's STILL snowing here. In case you're counting, that's the fifth day in a row that the snow's been flying. Despite the winter storm, we had to drive to Phoenix this weekend for our son's baseball tournament. It snowed on us for the first two hours of the trip, and then the weather got better as the elevation dropped. Here's what we drove down to:

It's fun to drive from snow to desert in a few hours. Arizona is so diverse!

Here's my boy pitching in one of his games.

He's so serious!

Here's an action shot of my boy running home. It was a close play and we were all yelling, "down!!" Evidently he felt like he had plenty of time to leisurely stomp on the plate without sliding. No worries.

After the tournament ended, we had to head back up the mountain in time for the evening feeding. I took pictures along the way so you can see the progression from desert to mountains.

Guess who came sprinting to the corral when they heard the diesel engine? That's right, I've got these heifers fully trained in a day. I told you they'd be eating out of my hand in no time.

It looked like the ladies had just had an Elvis sighting when my husband walked in with hay bales. They stampeded and were all over him like he was the "King". Raising heifers is like having a bunch of Jr. High school kids. They're little punks who show fleeting moments of maturity, and then turn around and do incredibly stupid things. I love this age!

When we finally arrived home that night, we had a slight crisis on our hands. The Nativity scene was in disarray. It appears as though Joseph, Baby Jesus, and the livestock have been burried alive in snow, and the stable roof caved in. Mary is the only one that seems to have survived the incident, although she looks a bit chilly in that cool night air. We're gonna have to dig them out ASAP!

Stay toasty on this chilly Monday!

Nell

Feeding Time

2011-12-02T22:07:00.001-08:00

This winter storm has reeked havoc on the whole area. We debated moving the cows to their winter pasture last week, but the weather reports called for rain at their current pasture(1500 ft lower than our house), so we held the move off. There's still plenty of grass here, and we like to utilize as much of it as possible before moving them to the other side of the mountain.

As you can see, the gamble didn't pay off and the rain came in the frozen form. For the next four to five days, we'll have to feed hay.

I had to plow my way back to the stock tank at the back of the pasture to check for ice. The snow was past my knees, but my trusty Sorrel snow boots kept my feet nice and toasty. Schlepping through knee- deep snow is quite a work-out!

Dearest Sorrel Snow Boots,

You + Me = True Love 4 ever.

I love the way cows walk in a single file line through the snow when they're coming in for feeding time. They really are smart creatures.

Feeding time always attracts the most precious little birds. They hang out on the gate and wait for a little morsel of food.

In true heifer style, some of the young gals were leery about coming into the corral for hay while I was still around. After all, this is their first winter feeding of the season, and they've been out to pasture for 9 months with little human interaction. But you just wait. After a day or two, they'll come running when they hear that diesel engine pull up to the gate, and I'll have them eating out of my hand like the Pied Piper.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

2011-12-02T10:14:00.001-08:00

We woke up to a blanket of snow nearly 2 feet deep with no end in sight. There is heavy snow in the forecast for the next 5 days in a row! Here's the view around our place. Perhaps later today, when the roads are plowed, I'll make it down to the cow's pasture where I'm praying that things aren't as nearly as bad.

It appears as though the storm, which has knocked the power out 5 times already, has surged and fried my home computer. Not fun. The good news... my WiFi is still up and running so I'm typing this on my laptop until the official damage diagnosis is made. Boo Hoo.

The Catch-Up Post

2011-12-01T14:47:00.001-08:00

Ah, It feels so nice to sit down and click the computer keys. The snow is falling heavily outside my window, but inside, the house is toasty, clean, and all decorated for Christmas. The kitchen smells of Peppermint Crunch Cookies, and the living room is a Christmas melody of aromas from the tree and holiday scented oils. Candles and twinkle lights flicker throughout the house, and beautiful Christmas music plays softly in the background. It feels so nice to take a break from the hustle and bustle outside. It's a great time to get caught up on my holiday blogging.

Thanksgiving was a blur as my dad and I prepared a feast for the whole family. I baked Apple, Pecan, and Coconut Cream pies, and a few other goodies the day before. I also made Mom's traditional Amish Date Pudding recipe that comes from her side of the family. I started by baking a date cake, and then I pulled it apart in chunks and mixed it with whipped cream and bananas. It may sound weird, but it's DELICIOUS, and there are rarely any left-overs. On Thanksgiving day, we had turkey, smoked pork loin, ribs, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, Cranberry Celebration, deviled eggs, various other dishes, and for my dad's side of the family.... Hawaiian stuffing and white rice. Yum! I was on my feet for two days solid in preparation for this meal and it made me realize just how much my mother did to make the holidays special for everyone. Have I mentioned how terribly I miss that woman?

In fact, we used to hit the Black Friday sales together after Thanksgiving, but this year, I was so tired from taking over many of the Thanksgiving duties that I could barely keep my eyes open. My husband was a brave man and volunteered to shop with me since I've lost my Black Friday partner in crime. He went with me to Kohl's at midnight, but after that, I just couldn't go on any longer. We went back home to my dad's house to get a good sleep. We went to a few places in the afternoon at our leisure, but all in all, it was a light day of shopping. It's alright, though. Let's face it... most of the things on my family's shopping list can be purchased at Western Drug or the Feed Store. My family just isn't into gifts that can be found at the mall.

I also celebrated another year of life this week, although it seems like I've been celebrating all month long. (Not that I'm complaining, though.) On Sunday night we had dinner and dessert at my in-law's place. I know they love me because they fed me a pumpkin cake roll with pumpkin ice cream for dessert even though there were many pumpkin haters sitting at the dinner table. It was a real sacrifice. LOL!! On Monday, the kids made me a fireside breakfast, and my husband took us out for Mexican food that night. He bought me a new 50mm lens for my camera. I also got an inexpensive remote control so that I don't have to run to the camera to set the timer, and then run back to my spot and act like I'm not completely out of breath when the camera goes off for a family portrait. Now we can just snap a picture with the click of a little remote button.

When it comes to birthdays, I used to get all wrapped up about my age and the numbers. Not anymore. Now I savor each birthday and look forward to them. I've got a new attitude. The way I see it, I should be thankful for every day God gives me on this earth because there are no guarantees about tomorrow.

What a wonderful week it's been! I look forward to the up-coming holiday season, and a little break from the rigors of homeschooling.

Feeling too blessed to be stressed,

Nell

Tree Hunt 2011

2011-11-30T08:21:00.001-08:00

This year's hunt for the perfect Christmas tree was short and sweet. It took about a half an hour to find the tree aglow with radiant beams shining from heaven. We heard the angels singing the Hallelujah Chorus, and we knew we had found "the one".

Ready for a walk in the snow.

What I like to call the frozen Tundra. Along the edge of the tree line on the north face of the mountain....that's where the real beauties are!

Do you see the radiant beams from heaven?

The kids are saying, "Yep, that's the one!"

This year's tree is a Blue Spruce.

We take the ceremonial hike back to the truck while dragging our trophy tree. I use the term "we" very loosely, here. My husband does all of the hard work while we supervise.

"Ta Da!"
The perfect cowboy Christmas tree for our family!

Aunt Nell

2011-11-27T20:43:00.001-08:00

Last Sunday at 6am, my cellphone rang. I finally got the call that I've been waiting for a decade to get...my sister in law was in labor, and I was about to be an aunt!!!! I have two precious nephews and a niece on my husbands's side of the family, but this was the first time that I was going to an aunt by my own brother! God has such perfect timing! Normally I would be at home, 3 1/2 hours away from Phoenix. But because I was at a condo in Scottsdale for my surprise birthday trip, I was staying a mere 5 minutes away from the hospital!!!! It was so convenient. God always has a perfect plan.

My dad and I sweated it out in the hospital waiting room all morning. We ate donuts, told jokes, talked politics, and made phone calls to pass the time. Then my brother came out with a proud papa grin and took us back to meet the newest love of his life.

Here I am with my beautiful niece, just an hour after she was born.

She was absolutely precious from the moment she arrived!

Here are the proud new parents, still amazed at the miracle of birth. My sister in law did a wonderful job and had a smooth delivery. Baby G is healthy and sweet as could be. The whole family got to hold her over the Thanksgiving holiday, and we all took turns sniffing her precious little baby head and admiring her kissable lips and button nose.

Here she is at 5 days old. GORGEOUS! I'm so glad that I got to be a part of that special day, and share in the joy that new life brings with it. It was the icing on the cake of a perfect weekend.

Congratulations to my brother and his beautiful wife. Now the hard work begins!

Basking in my new role,

Aunt Nellie

Girls' Road Trip!

2011-11-23T14:03:00.001-08:00

When my friends showed up at my front door to kidnap me for a surprise birthday road trip...I had no idea where we were headed! For a while, they had me believing we were headed for Mexico! I was so confused.

Here I am with a few of my friends before we hit the road. Our final destination ended up being a lovely condo in Scottsdale. They had me faked out really good, and the surprises were still coming. When we walked into the dark condo, they flipped the lights on and everything was decorated with balloons, and streamers. Just then, out of nowhere, I caught a glimpse of our good friend Gina who lives in Texas!!!! My friend Dawn found a way to fly Gina all the way out to Arizona for our special girls' weekend! I was giddy with excitement!

Next, they told me to change my clothes for a night out on the town! Here we all are before the celebrating began.

The girls took me to a restaurant called "Cadillac Ranch" for dinner. I had never been there before, and my friends had HUGE smiles on their faces when we arrived. I couldn't figure out what was so funny, but it didn't take long to see why they were laughing.

When we arrived at our table, we had a front row seat to THIS!!! A mechanical bull. We cracked up as we watched people try to ride it throughout the evening....

And then....it was our turn! That's right. We threw caution to the wind, swallowed our pride, and every single one of us rode the bull! It was so funny that I nearly peed my pants! A bunch of mamas in our 30's and 40's conquered this mechanical beast for an 8 second ride! I almost died laughing!!! Not only did we ride the bull, but we also lived to tell about it. The wipe outs were as funny as the bull rides! We've got it all archived on video so we can show it to future generations.

Here we are standing a little taller after crossing bull riding off of the bucket list. It was EPIC!! In fact, our bull ride was legendary. Every time we tell the story it gets better and better! I still can't believe we did it. LOL!!!

After stopping for ice cream, we went back to the condo for a night of reliving our adventure and catching up with each other. The next morning, we geared up for a full day of bargain shopping. I can't ever remember having such a fun day spent with friends! By dinner time we were totally drained. We took our loot back to the condo, changed into our comfy clothes and spent the whole evening eating and chatting. We had delicious Taco Soup for dinner, and my friend Missy made a heavenly Peppermint Cheesecake for dessert. It was out of this world!

We stayed up until 3 am talking and laughing like school girls at a giant slumber party! It was such a sweet time of fellowship.

I am so blessed to call these ladies my friends. They have been there to support me through some of my happiest moments and darkest days, and I can't imagine my life without them. They spent months secretly organizing this very special weekend for me, and it was absolutely perfect! Every detail was lovingly thought of, and each of my friends made sacrifices to make this trip extra- special. Not only did these girls do a ton of planning, but each of our husbands stayed back at home and took care of our kids. (All 23 of them!) They held down the home front so that we could have a fabulous weekend away. 3 cheers for the husbands!

As if all of this wasn't amazing enough, God had one very special surprise left for me. On Sunday morning, after only three hours of sleep, my cell phone rang....

To Be Continued!!!!

Surprise!!

2011-11-22T13:29:00.001-08:00

My family got home from Phoenix really late Thursday night at nearly midnight, and my husband woke us up while it was still dark outside so that we could take care of some cattle business that morning. I dragged my pokey rear-end out of bed and headed for the shower. My husband stopped me. His famous last words were, "Don't bother with showering, the cows don't care. Let's just get out of here on time." (Remember these words.)

We drove over the mountain to take a look at some weaned calves. Then we drove out to state lease land to check on some bred cows, and take a look at a bull. At the base of the tree-line, the forest opens up to this rugged, high plains landscape as far as the eye can see. (I took all these pics with my iPhone because I was rushed out the door and forgot my camera.)

As luck would have it, the specific cows that we needed to check were not up loafing around the stock tanks with the rest of the herd. They were down in this little rugged canyon... far, far away from me. Do you see them above? They look like little black dots between the rocks.

Here's that picture blown WAY up below. Do you see two?

After gathering the little group out of the rocks, we looked at the rest of the herd, found the bull, and drove home. We were wind whipped and cold, and it was lunch time. I prepared food for the family, and then settled into my chair by the wood stove to devour the pages of the newest Western Horseman Magazine that arrived in the mail before starting my afternoon chores. With a full belly and a warm fire, I quickly dozed off in the rocking chair.

I was jolted awake by the sounds of my husband saying the words, "They're here!!!!"

I looked at him with a puzzled expression and asked, "Who's here???"

We weren't expecting anyone.

"I think you'd better go answer the door!" he said.

I rubbed my sleepy eyes, still dazed from my cat nap.

When I opened the door, a bunch of my dearest friends stood there with party hats and said, "SURPRISE!!!!!"

I was flabbergasted."What in the world are you all doing here?"

They told me that they were kidnapping me for my surprise birthday road-trip! My instructions were to hurry and throw some clothes in a bag and prepare for warm days and cool nights.

I had NO idea where we were headed!

I said, "Wait! I haven't even had a shower today and I've been working cows all morning!"

"Too bad! We've got a schedule to keep and you'll have to get cleaned up later!" was the reply.

I gave the stink eye to my husband. "You mean you knew all of this was going to take place and you didn't let me take a shower? You didn't tell me to get dressed up? You didn't let me straighten the house up for visitors?"

He just laughed and said that he didn't want me to think there was anything awry or I'd get suspicious. Evidently, the whole thing was planned for months!

They threw a party hat on my head, snapped a picture, and loaded my bag.

I kissed my babies and husband in absolute shock about what was happening to me, and I was whisked away.

What I didn't know was that this was just the beginning of one WILD and CRAZY adventure.....

To be Continued!

1st Annual Dessert for Dinner Night

2011-11-21T16:59:00.001-08:00

The last five days have been a blur of activity!!! I'm going to have to blog about it over the next few days because there is just soooo much to share!

Last week we drove down to Phoenix to celebrate my mom's birthday. As many of you know, my precious mother passed away this year, and the days and months to follow have been some of the most difficult of my life. I was determined not to sit around and feel sorrowful when her birthday came around, so I decided to start a new tradition with my family to honor her. My mother was a passionate dessert lover with an insatiable sweet-tooth. I decided that every year, on her birthday, we would go out and eat dessert for dinner! Mom did this from time to time, herself. She would always say, "Why eat dinner and waste the calories when what I really crave is dessert?"

My kids LOVED the idea, and so we joined the rest of the family and went to The Cheesecake Factory for our first annual "Dessert for Dinner" celebration in Mom's honor.

I had a slice of this:

Pumpkin Cheesecake!

I even ordered a Dr. Pepper to go with it! Mom loved her Dr. Pepper.

The whole family spent the evening laughing, and talking around the table, and then we cruised around the mall to work off some of the calories. Mom would have loved this, and I hope to continue our annual "Dessert for Dinner" night for years to come!

Memoirs of a Ranch Hand, Part II

2011-11-16T04:00:00.000-08:00

In case you missed it, click HERE for a link to the beginning of the story.

As fate would have it, I would have one last encounter with the gal who tested my patience. In fact, it occurred the very next day.

It was an afternoon like any other. Blue skies, birds chirping, and mountains of ranch work to be done. After heat-synchronizing cows up at the chute all morning, we had orders to haul salt out to the pastures. Each of us was able to fit three 50# salt blocks on the front of our 4-wheeler, and three blocks on the back. We headed out to various locations throughout the ranch to drop our salt off.

The ranch had a man-made creek that flowed through all of the pastures on one side of the highway, and a river that flowed through the other side. No matter where you went on the ranch, several water crossings were inevitable. They were generally not a big deal, and with the exception of having to lift your feet to keep from getting your boots wet, we didn't think much about them.

We had already crossed the creek in three different places that afternoon, and I had delivered my entire load of salt blocks. My roommate had delivered the three salt blocks off of the front of her 4-wheeler, and we were on the way to dump the rest off. We had just one more creek crossing to go. I lead the way, and made it up the other side of the creek bank at an angle. But when it was her turn, things went downhill in a hurry.

The gal made it down into the creek, and drove across the water with her feet up. When she reached the other bank, she made a straight shot up the creek wall! In an instant, the weight of 150# of salt on the back of her 4-wheeler tipped her two front tires straight up in the air, and the four wheeler flipped back on top of her, pinning her entire body under the water!

I was already headed down the trail when I looked over my shoulder and witnessed the catastrophe take place. Without a second to lose, I flew off of my 4 wheeler, and jumped in the creek. With every ounce of strength I had, I lifted the 4-wheeler off of her chest, and threw it to the side. Then, I swooped her up out of the ice-cold creek water. After lots of gasping and choking, she finally caught her breath.

My adrenaline was still pounding through my veins, and I noticed immediately that she was bleeding heavily from the side of her head. A jagged rock on the creek bed must have gashed open her ear, and a huge chunk of it was dangling there. I took off my sweatshirt and pressed it firmly over her bleeding ear.

I said, "Get on the back of my 4-wheeler, and I'll rush you back to the shop!"

But she refused. She was totally dazed and just wanted to sit there for a minute to calm down. Then, to my absolute horror, she pulled a package of soaking wet cigarettes out of her flannel shirt pocket, and attempted to light up a soggy, broken cigarette.

That's when I knew she had lost it.

I checked her bleeding ear, and then demanded that she get on my 4-wheeler. If she didn't bleed to death, she'd freeze to death in those wet clothes. We rode over rough terrain as fast as my 4-wheeler would take us, and I got her back to the office so someone could drive her to the emergency room, 40 minutes away. When my boss sped off with her in the truck, I went to go get the ranch foreman. I told him what had happened and also informed him that there was an upside down 4- wheeler in the creek that I needed help getting out.

We drove back to the scene of the incident, and I tried to lift that 4 wheeler up. It didn't budge. I couldn't believe it! Not one hour earlier, I had shoved that 4- wheeler up and off of my roommate, and now I didn't have the strength to move it an inch. The foreman and I tried lifting it together, and we barely moved it. With the help of a winch, we got it tipped right-side up, and out of the creek.

We just looked at each other in disbelief. There was no doubt in both of our minds that what had happened that day was a miracle. If my room mate had been alone, she would have drowned. If God wouldn't have given me a brief moment of seemingly super-human strength, she would have drowned.

For as long as I live, I'll never forget that day. God was watching over two college gals, miles from nowhere, without anyone else around. He was our ever present help in that time of trouble.

Late that night, my roommate arrived back at the ranch with an ear full of stitches and a concussion. She was still shaken up, and knew without a doubt that what had happened that day was a complete miracle.

After a few days of recovery, she decided that she wasn't cut out for ranch work. She packed up her things and moved back into town, never to be seen again. I won't ever forget that gal, or her brush with death. Our paths crossed for only a brief period of time, but there's not a doubt in my mind that God put her in my life for that short season. Perhaps it was to teach me a little bit more about myself, or perhaps it was purely for that one life or death moment that we shared. Whatever the reason, she's now part of the fabric of my life's journey, and our experience has become a legendary story...one I will continue to share around the campfire for years to come.

Memoirs of a Ranch Hand, Part I

2011-11-15T04:00:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I look back on my life and remember a few of the people that God put into my path along the way. I often chuckle about the eclectic cast of characters I've met on my journey. What I've come to realize is that often times I learn the most about myself from dealing with the folks who cause me the most irritation. It's as if adversity brings out my true character. It's not always pretty, either. When God puts a difficult person in my life, it gives me plenty of opportunities to practice traits like love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. But the truth is, I often fail miserably when these little opportunities come my way. Sometimes my botched interactions with people are memorable, and the resulting stories keep me laughing for years.

This is the saga of one of the colorful characters that I encountered in my past. As you will see, some of my own behavior was less than dignified at the time, but there is no doubt that our paths crossed for one very important reason...

(Don't worry, all names and locations have been with-held to protect identities.)

During my college years, I was chosen for an internship on a very large ranch for a full year plus two summers. They were doing some amazing and forward thinking things with the genetics of their herd, and I was an Animal Science student, eager to learn. They had a stellar breeding program, and I will be forever grateful for the opportunity to have received such a high class education.

My first summer at the ranch, a gal from town was hired on just before I arrived. She was desperate for a job, and my boss employed her as a huge favor for the ranch secretary. She said she knew her way around livestock, but after 30 minutes, it became apparent that she was stretching the truth. Since we were the only two females on the ranch, we roomed in one of the old houses on the property. From day one, it was evident that we had our differences. For starters, she smoked...profusely. She had two big, hairy, barking dogs with no manners who jumped all over her furniture. They shed all over the house, and she wasn't eager to sweep. She was a late night person and our work mornings started by 5am. She was moody, hated country music, and blasted heavy metal from her bedroom. She liked to talk on the phone for hours.

I was skeptical that she was going to work out, but I decided to sit back and see how the whole thing played out.

Our first order of business was to work on the fence-line before putting the cows out to their summer breeding pastures. Heavy winter snows do major damage to the fences each year, and repairing them takes a whole lot of time. For nearly a month solid, several hands work full time on miles upon miles of fence line.

By her third day on the job, the foreman was fed up with the new gal. He gave up on her.

By day seven, the cowboys avoided her at all costs.

It goes against my grain to say this, but the truth is that she was a horrible worker! Slow, sloppy, bad attitude....the worst combination.

I had a suspicion that her departure was imminent and I felt slightly sorry for her, so the second week I volunteered to work with her to help her figure things out. We loaded up fencing supplies on our 4-wheelers and headed out to a pasture. The plan was that she would head left at the gate and I'd head right, and hopefully we'd meet in the middle by sundown. By the end of the day, I'd fixed 4/5ths of the fence by myself. I figured that she must have run into a terrible stretch where all the wires were down, so I didn't say anything to her.

We reported to the foreman, and she took credit for half of the work. This torqued me, but I let it pass.

The next day, I decided to change my strategy so I could watch what she was doing. We decided to leap-frog one another along the fence line. That way, if she was having trouble, I could help her out. Within an hour, the problem became evident to me. She was smoking like a chimney on the job, and was already lighting up her third cigarette by 6:15am!! Right away I could see that she was having a hard time juggling the fencing staples, hammer, and cigarettes. She needed a third hand. Instead, she let the cigarette violently dangle from her lips while she hammered like mad to get the wire stapled to the posts. It was a mediocre effort at best, and I was thoroughly annoyed.

By the end of the day, I'd had it! That girl smoked more than she worked. I was so worried that the ashes from her dangling cigarettes were going to start a brush fire that I kept looking over my shoulder for signs of smoke in the grass. She didn't do much that day, yet she tried to take the credit for the work. Rather than tell the boss what really happened, I decided to keep my mouth shut.

I was fairly certain she would dig her own grave without me saying a word.

The following morning, it was off to work again with my new nemesis. She was up half the night with her loud music playing, and she looked like she just rolled out of bed. I went to the shop, loaded my supplies on my four-wheeler, and headed off to the far corner of the ranch...several miles from headquarters. Her four-wheeler was acting up, so we decided not to split ways. I didn't want to leave her stranded if she broke down. That morning, my patience was wearing thin, but I tried to remain cheerful. She came over to get some wire from me, and it was heavily oiled to prevent rusting. It had a black film on it that gets all over your gloves. She grabbed the spool, unraveled several coils, then proceeded to itch her nose with her gloves on.

She went from looking like this:

To this:

I sort of chuckled when I looked up to see her new jet black mustache, but I didn't say anything. I was feeling ornery.

Not ten minutes later, she decided to take one of her long smoke breaks...with her filthy gloves still on. This time, she really smudged up her face! As she smoked, the "V" shape of her fingers made her entire chin look black!

I tried my best to keep a straight face, but inside, I was cracking up!!

As luck would have it, the foreman rode out to assess the water flow in the pasture. He stopped by the fence to check on progress. He had a full conversation with my roomate without cracking a smile, or telling her a word about her face. I couldn't believe it! I could barely look at her without laughing, and the old foreman didn't even seem to notice!

By mid-afternoon, she decided to put her strange hat on, and it completed the look.

I had lots of time to think that day, and my conscience started to really bother me. I felt terribly convicted for letting her look ridiculous all day without telling her. I felt even worse for secretly laughing at her misfortune!!

Who was I becoming? I'd really let her get under my skin, and it was making me bitter.

Before we drove back to headquarters, I decided to fess up to her. "You've got black smudges on your face and I wanted to tell you before anyone else sees you."

She didn't take me seriously.

"No really! You've got a mustache and goatee thing going on. You should probably wash your face off."

She wiped her face with the inside of her shirt.

She drove home, and I drove to the shop to unload our supplies. I could see the foreman driving up the road. He pulled up next to me and shut off his truck.

He looked me straight in the eye...

and in the most serious tone he asked, " How did it feel to work with a bearded lady all day?"

Then he cracked up laughing and sped off down the road leaving a cloud of dust behind him.

To be Continued....

Priceless Junk in my Boy's Room

2011-11-11T10:30:00.001-08:00

I've written before about "A boy and his treasures", but I just had to show you some of the things my son keeps in his room. Whenever we have a big clean-out in there, these are the items that MUST be kept! They are never up for cleaning negotiations. I'm not sure if all boys are like this, or if I'm raising a pack rat, but the plethora of items in his room is overwhelming when I'm trying to tidy up the place.

Here is a pictorial sampling of items my son holds near and dear to his heart. It is by no means his complete collection, but it merely highlights a few of his favorite treasures.

And for the finale: A smorgasbord treasure chest of petrified wood, seashells, lava rocks, pottery, snake skins, rifle cartridges, and shotgun shells.

If you enter my son's room, he won't show you his shelf of sports trophies, his toys, or his games. He'll show you this stuff...the stuff that matters the most to him!

The White Stuff is Back

2011-11-09T22:50:00.000-08:00

A Ford Family

2011-11-09T05:00:00.000-08:00

Like great highschool football rivalries and undying devotion to a college alma matter, Americans have always had an allegiance to their truck brands. And like the Hatfield's and McCoy's, the feud between Ford and Chevy lovers will be one for the history books. No matter the brand, we're taught to remain true blue from birth.

We've always been a Ford family through and through. It's a brand that's been in my life from the time I was born. In fact, people often joke that when my family gets together, it looks like a Ford truck commercial in the parking lot.

It started when my dad bought a 1968 Ford Mustang in high school. That car stayed with our family and was passed along to my brother, who later restored it to it's former glory.

Additionally, my folks have always driven Ford trucks. When I was a kid, my folks had a tough looking yellow Ford truck. It was stolen out of our driveway, and my dad has never been the same.
Currently, my dad drives a 1999 F-250 7.3 Liter Diesel with 174,000 miles on it.

My father-in-law just recently restored his 1970 Ford truck that's affectionately known as "Old Yeller" around town. My husband and his siblings all drove it at some point during their high school years.

Before:

After:

My grandpa drives a Ford F-250 7.3 Liter Diesel farm truck.

My brother drives a 2007 Ford F-150 with 90,000 miles on it.

My uncle drives a Ford F-250

My cousin drives a new Ford Mustang

My husband drives a 1997 F-250 7.3 Liter Diesel. It has over 254,000 miles on it.

I drive a 2005 Ford F-350 6.0 Liter Diesel with 180,000 miles on it.

Even our kids drive a Ford F-100.

This is just a tiny sampling of the Fords in our family. Over the years there have been Ford Fairlanes, Expeditions, Explorers, Rangers, F-150's...the list goes on and on.

Ford runs through our veins in this family. I guess you could say that we have a little bit of "brand loyalty".

Built Ford Tough,

Nell

P.S.- This is NOT a paid advertisement. Ford Motor Company has no idea that my family exists. Although I'd gladly be their very best saleswoman in exchange for a new Ford F-250 King Ranch Edition.*Wink, Wink* WooWee are those things pretty to look at! Not to mention the leather interior and lighted vanity mirrors. I could get used to driving one of those around. I guarantee it wouldn't smell like coffee and manure on the inside, either. What? A girl can dream, can't she!?!

P.P.S- Don't be a hater if you're not driving a Ford. I will still love you.

7 Random Things

2011-11-08T10:49:00.000-08:00

1. It's been snowing for days at our house, and I broke out my new snow wrap for my head.I bought it at a boutique here on the mountain. I wish I knew how to knit so I could make one in every color because it's so warm.

The flower detail on the side.

(Perhaps I'll look back on this wrap trend in a few years and think they're ridiculous, but this year I'm in head wrap love.)

2. I'm on "Aunt Countdown" right now. My niece will be making her appearance any day now! This means that I have to keep my cell phone on at all times. I'm terrible at this, but I don't want to miss anything. I've been waiting for my brother to make me an aunt now for a decade, and you can bet I'm not gonna miss my first opportunity to see his offspring.

3.The menfolk went deer hunting last weekend, so my girls and I went shopping in the big city. We cruised the mall, shopped for boots, ate at restaurants that we don't have here on the mountain, and went to Hobby Lobby. It was invigorating! The key to taking young girls on an all day shopping marathon is to keep feeding them. Chick-fila, Orange Julius, cookies, pretzels... food= fuel for shopping.

4. I have a slight obsession with Scentsy wax, and warmers to melt the wax in. I bought my third wax warmer this weekend. I found it at Hobby Lobby for 50% off, and it's a night light scented wax warmer for the bathroom. This may be my favorite one of all! It's the perfect size for a small space and it does double duty as a night light. My heart belongs to Hobby Lobby, but I'm so glad the nearest one is 3 1/2 hours away or I'd spend all my free time there.

5. I bought more of this Passion Fruit Tea at Wildflower Bread Company. It's still my all time favorite, and it lasts a really long time. I just scoop a little of the loose tea into a coffee filter in my iced tea maker, and brew a pitcher full at a time. So very tasty!

6. I went to buy my son a new snow boarding jacket and I was appalled to see that the 1980's are back in full force on the ski slopes this season. GAG ME! Neon Green, hot pink, and fluorescent orange puffy jackets were all the rage at the ski shops. I even saw an exact replica of the neon peach ski-bunny suit I wore on the slopes in 1989. It was so loud that you could see me coming down the hill from a mile away. It even earned me the nickname "Conajita" for years to come. It was the most awful fashion decision I ever made. I'll be darned if I'm going to let my children make the same fashion mistakes. I talked him into buying a timeless black and charcoal jacket to go with his black boarding pants. If he wants to make a statement on the slopes, he can wear a funky hat. I lived through the 80's once, and I'll never go back!

7. I bought this White Citrus hand soap at Bath and Body Works, and I'm loving it next to my kitchen sink. It's a nice clean scent for my hands after I've been slicing onions or doing dishes. Perhaps I'll get another bottle the next time I go back to the big city.

Hope you are all having a great week!

Nell

A Eulogy for my Favorite Jeans

2011-11-04T09:41:00.000-07:00

When I walked through the doors of the western store, I made a beeline for the Ladies Jeans department. It was there that we first met. I saw you in the corner of my eye, and pulled you off the rack. It was instant attraction. You were low rise, extra long, boot cut, and you were "Cruel Girl" brand. My heart fluttered, but it was too early to know if it was "love". I had to try you on.

After slipping you on in the dressing room, I knew that we were MFEO (made for each other). You hugged me in all the right places, you covered my flaws, and you looked amazing with my light tan cowboy boots. Even though I'd birthed three kids, you did not make me feel like I was wearing "Mom Jeans". I had to own you, whatever the cost.

This began our serious relationship.

You were the first pair of jeans I'd wear out of the closet every week.

My days were brighter when you were on.

Through the years you began to fade, but I didn't mind. You were softer then.

Over time, the heaviness of my bling belt frayed your belt loops.

Then, there was the unfortunate day that I snagged your pocket with my fencing tool. With each washing, your pocket began to unravel more and more. I didn't worry, though. It just added character.

After several years, your fabric began to thin out, and you tore in the knee. That's when you transitioned into my favorite "work" pants. No more date nights, no more parties, no more lunch with friends. You and I worked cows together. We fixed fence. We split firewood. We were a team.

Your hemline began to fray with your exposure to dirt and manure, but you still stacked nicely over my boots and didn't raise up in the stirrups or when climbing through corral pipes. You remained the perfect length.

All of that ended yesterday when I felt the breeze on my rear. You wore too thin. You worked too hard. You left me feeling exposed. And now our relationship must come to an end. You lived a long life. You served your purpose. You will forever be #1 in my heart.

Rest in peace, my favorite jeans. I will never forget you.

With all my love,

Nell

"I've Got a Golden Ticket..."

2011-11-02T11:41:00.000-07:00

The final stop on our field trip was to tour the Joy Cone Factory. All I have to say is.....Too Cool For Words. When I was a kid, I used to watch Mister Roger's Neighborhood on PBS channel 8. In my favorite episode, Mister Rogers toured the Crayola factory. I wanted to tour that factory so badly! I would watch every day, hoping they re-ran the crayon episode so I could sit in front of the TV and be amazed by the machinery. Getting to see the Joy Cone factory was even better! We saw every aspect of production, and we were all wide eyed at the process of turning ingredients into batter, and batter into cones, and cones into packaging, and packaging into huge boxes. I feel lucky to live on this side of the industrial revolution. Giant machinery is truly a modern marvel.

There were no cameras allowed inside the facilities because we saw top-secret stuff inside. Besides, we had to wear hair nets, and I don't want any pictures of me in a hair net on the internet. What's worse, my husband had to wear a hair net and a beard net because of his goatee. I think that any man who has to wear a beard net at work should get paid a dollar more an hour for pain and suffering. It was all worth it, though, for a chance to see how a pink ice cream cone is made." It's classified information. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." (Name that movie!)

I felt like I was touring Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory, and I had a golden ticket.

♪♫ I've got a golden ticket, I've got a golden chance to make my way, and with a golden ticket it's a golden day!♪♫♫♪♫

OK, enough singing.

The ice cream cone was invented at the World's Fair in 1904 when an ice cream vendor and a pastry vendor had booths side by side. The pastry vendor served meats and savory dishes in his waffle bowls. One day, the ice cream vendor ran out of bowls to serve customers, so he asked the waffle bowl vendor next door to make him something he could serve ice cream in. The ice cream cone was invented, and the rest is history. The Joy Cone Factory is getting ready to celebrate 100 years in the business and is the largest manufacturer of cones in the world. They produce over 1.5 billion cones per year. They supply cones for companies like Mc Donald's, Dairy Queen, Burger King, and many others, as well as grocery stores.

A Cool Random Fact:
-All of the broken or defective cones are crushed in a silo and fed to livestock.

At the end of our tour, we all got to enjoy a free ice cream cone, and we were given a box of cones to take home. I may not be a kid, but this was the coolest field trip I've ever been on!

It was such a delightful day!

Surprising Life Lessons from an Iron Lung

2011-11-01T19:46:00.000-07:00

"Get as much joy from life for yourself and others as you can squeeze out of it." - Martha Mason *

I organized a homeschool co-op field trip to Flagstaff for a day of adventure and learning. As always, I had as much fun as the children. The day started with a visit to the Pioneer Museum. There were many artifacts there with ties to northern Arizona history. There were items relating to prominent ranching families who settled the area, and stories about the making of the state of Arizona.

A few highlights:

I was surprised to see this brand on the wall. We still buy heifers with the V BAR V brand, and it's been around since 1891.

I've always had a thing for old barbed wire, and they had a large display of several unique types.

This mountain lion named "Josephine" was gifted to the Arizona Rangers as a cub, and she was their mascot for many years. She had a tendency to wreak havoc on the horses when her natural instincts kicked in, and scattered them to regions far and wide when they were tied to their picket lines. She definitely had a reputation for trouble. Josephine once got loose on a train while traveling with the Rangers and tried to attack passengers from New York as she ran up and down the aisles. When she died, the Rangers made her into a rug. After the rug wore out, her head was donated to the museum so her legacy could live on.

The Pioneer museum is housed in an old building that was formerly a respite home for the elderly in the days before Hospice and Social Security. As such, there were many old relics from the medical field there as well.

It was all very fascinating, but there was one item that haunted me for days.

I'm sure that my parents' generation was familiar with the Negative Pressure Ventilator, a machine that was also known as the "Iron Lung". This, however, was the first one I had ever seen or heard of. The Iron Lung is a capsule that someone lives in with their head sticking out on the end. The machine allows a paralyzed person to breath by changing the pressure inside to expand and contract the lungs. Iron Lungs are virtually obsolete today. They've been replaced with modern ventilators that allow people freedom of movement. But at the height of the Polio epidemic, Iron Lungs were quite common. They were life savers.

The thing that really bothered me were the stories that accompanied the display. I read of a woman named Dianne Odell who contracted Polio at age 3, and lived in an Iron Lung for nearly 60 years. 60 YEARS!!! The worst part was that she died in 2008 during a bad storm in Tennessee. There was a power outage, and the back-up generator failed so she had no electricity to keep the machine running. It was tragic.

All I could think of was that it must have been a living hell to live life in a casket-like capsule for 60 years. It bothered me so much that I went home and started reading more about what life was like in an Iron Lung. Weird, I know, but I couldn't fathom how terrible it must have been. Yet I was blown away when, upon further research, I discovered that many people in Iron Lungs made the best of a bad situation, and went on to live fulfilling lives. Many actually got an education, had a large circle of friends, hosted parties, and even wrote books with voice activated computers. They didn't allow circumstances to get them down.

Dianne Odell's story inspired me. Here's a woman who many people would feel had every right to have a chip on her shoulder. She could have cursed God for dealing her a bad hand and felt sorry for herself her whole life. She could have given up. Many people in her situation would have thrown in the towel. But she didn't. In fact, she did just the opposite. She lived her life to the fullest.

"I've had a very good life, filled with love and family and faith. You can make life good or you can make it bad. "- Dianne Odell

If there's one thing in my Iron Lung research that really smacked me in the face, it's the glaring reminder that much of our happiness in life depends on our outlook. Bad things happen to everyone at some point, but it's how we react to these challenges that determines whether we have joy or not. Happiness is ultimately a choice.

* The quote at the beginning of this blog was from a woman named Martha Mason, another 60 year veteran of the Iron Lung. She died in 2009.

Getting Back To Normal

2011-10-31T11:31:00.000-07:00

I'm back! My husband was working out of town for two weeks. We picked him up on Thursday, and things have been insanely busy ever since. I'm so glad to have him home again.

When we said goodbye to him, he drove seven hours away to a job site in the middle of the desert. The nearest town was two hours away from where he worked, so he had a four hour round trip each day to get to and from the hotel. He drove in heavy equipment several miles on this rough road to reach the pipe they were welding. It was a tough job with long hours and no cell phone service.

And there were rattle snakes....

Snake in the headlights

Lots, and lots of rattlesnakes. The place was crawling with them! He brought home a dead Mohave Green Rattle Snake that someone ran over, and the rattlers off of two additional dead snakes for our kids. My husband always brings home unusual gifts from the places he works, but dead snakes and rattlers top our list of ummmmm.... "unique" gifts.

"Oh, Love, you brought us home dead snakes....how thoughtful of you...you shouldn't have."

The kids LOVED them!

(The snake is in the freezer, waiting to be skinned, so....no pics. Sorry.)

He also saw a bunch of these.

This one was the size of a Zinger snack cake. I know this because he took a blurry pic of it with a Zinger next to it for size comparison.

Sounds like a great place to work, doesn't it?

As soon as my husband got home, life went back to warp speed. I'll post more about our exciting weekend adventures in other posts.

Meanwhile, I'm just glad things are back to normal around here.

A Few Things I love about Texas

2011-10-26T10:25:00.000-07:00

A Few things I love about Texas:

- Longhorn Cattle in pastures near the ranch houses just for "looks"

-Friendly drivers who drove on the shoulder so people could pass.

-American Flags and Texas Flags flown side-by-side in front yards

-Good Country Music played in EVERY store and restaurant.

-A radio station called "Kicker Country"

-Charro Beans

-Nice People

-Cowhide Furniture

-80 mph speed limit

-Big Hair

-"Yes Ma'am"

-The shape of the state of Texas etched in glass at fast food restaurants, on door mats, inside gas station bathroom stalls, on napkins, on billboards, on paper cups. Texas is EVERYWHERE!

-Their deep love of Football.

-Bling is the norm, not the exception.

-Deer Corn is sold at every gas station

- Ford Trucks...everywhere.

- Grill guards on every vehicle

-Beef, beef, and more beef

-George Strait

"Pookie"

2011-10-25T04:00:00.000-07:00

Meet Sneakers. He's quite possibly the most evil dog that ever lived. I know because he was our family pet from the time I was in 6th grade until he died a few years ago. He's a legend in my hometown, and people still tell his stories to this day. My mom picked out the name "Sneakers" because his white paws made it look like he was wearing shoes. But no-one else ever called him by that name. We all called him Pookie. It was ironic that he had a lover's pet name because there was no love in that dog. While I lived at home, he slept under my bed. I would have to superman dive under the covers at night so he wouldn't bite my toes. He said goodnight with a 2 minute growl from under the box spring. He chased away every cat in the neighborhood. Come to think of it, he chased every solicitor away, too. When the door bell rang, he'd jump up on the chair next to the window and try to attack people through the glass. He made Trick-or-Treaters drop their candy and run for their lives. He ruined a lot of curtains.

Throughout the day, he would move from hide-out to hide-out, lurking behind chairs, in corners, or under the recliner. You definitely didn't want to get up in the middle of the night for a drink of water. Pookie could be anywhere. He wasn't a dog that you could kiss on the nose, either. He'd rip your face off. In fact, virtually no-one outside of the family could even pet him. It became a game to our friends to see who could touch Pookie without getting bit. The trick was to dangle your arm on the side of the couch for 5 minutes and let him slowly come to you. If he nudged you with his nose, you could scratch him behind the ears. But God forbid you make any sudden moves or he'd turn around and bite. On the rare occasion that someone actually pet him, they'd want us to take a picture to prove it. It meant serious bragging rights because everyone was terrified of that dog. We knew that if good dogs died young, Pookie was going to live forever. And he practically did.

Looking back, I'm surprised my parents kept him. He was a real liability. But my mom never saw it that way. She loved that dog. In fact, she called him her "love pup". He'd ride with her in the car when she took us to school, and he'd keep her company throughout the day. Whenever he'd growl, she'd say, "Sneakers, quit being naughty." Right. Like that was going to help. Mom had the patience of Job with that dog. She was the only one that could bathe him, and cut his hair. She would do it in sections as he would allow it. For several days, he'd look absolutely ridiculous walking around with a quarter of one side clipped. Sometimes, Mom would cut whatever side was facing up while he slept. Then she'd wait for another day when he was sleeping on his other side, and she'd finish the job....with only a few minor puncture wounds on her hands. Everyone wandered what in the world she saw in that dog.

That's the thing about my mom. She saw the best in everyone...even our evil dog. In my thirty three years of life, I can't remember a single instance when she had ever said an unkind word about anyone. It's remarkable, actually. No matter how mean, or ridiculous, or awful a person was, she would find something kind to say about them. If we spoke of political leaders we despised, she'd say, "Now Nell, have you prayed for that man? He is our leader, and he needs our prayers during this time." Whenever I came home from school and complained about a bully, she would tell me to pray for my enemies because it would soften my heart toward them. When I passed judgement upon someone who did something horrible, she would say, "But for the grace of God, that might be us." She always, always, always put herself in someone else's shoes. She always considered the fact that at any given moment, people could be going through something so tough that it made them act in a way that was out of character for them. She chose to see the spark of goodness in the darkest of people.When people hurt her, she would pray that they would experience the love of Jesus. Then she would remind us that hurting people hurt other people. She encouraged us to pray that God would take their hurt away.

That woman was one of a kind, and I miss her horribly. It would be a struggle to imitate a fraction of her overwhelming kindness. I feel so blessed to have had her loving example in my life.

Pookie got old, and lost his sight, his hearing, and the ability to stand up. He had seizures quite often, and my mom stayed right by his side through it all. After he died, my mom cried for days. It was no big loss to most people, but it was devastating for Mom. She didn't see an evil dog like the rest of us did. No. She saw a companion and a friend. She saw a dog that just needed more love, extra kindness, and a little understanding. Mom's "Love Pup" died at nearly 22 years of age.

Mechanical Failures

2011-10-24T10:53:00.000-07:00

There comes a time in every gal's life when she reflects back on her teenage years and wonders if she should have done a few things differently. Nothing makes a girl re-think her high school elective choices more than a frustrating mechanical failure.

My deep questioning came at a crisis moment on Friday.

Here's the situation:

My hardworking husband was welding two hours from civilization with no cellphone service. I had to haul water to the cows so I loaded the water tank, generator, pump, toolbox, and water hose.

I loaded the kids in the truck and popped in some classic George Strait tunes. We rolled the windows down in the old truck and took a leisurely drive down to the pasture. It was a beautiful fall day for hauling water.

I drove down the little two track path, backed the truck up as close as I could to the stock tank, submerged my pump in the water tank, hooked up the hose and drug it to the stock tank.

It was a routine job.

I pulled the cord and the generator fired up on the first pull! I plugged in the pump and 20 seconds later the generator died.

"Hmmm...that's odd." I thought.

I pulled it again. It started up and died 15 seconds later.

"What the heck?" I thought.

I checked the gas. 1/2 a tank.

I checked the oil. Full.

I checked the fuel switch...open.

I let it sit a minute and pulled the crank again. It ran for 5 seconds and died. again.

I messed with the choke several times.

Again:
Pull. start. die.
Pull. start. die.
Pull. start. die.
Pull. start. die.

Now I'm sweating from cranking the thing twenty times. My husband was unreachable, so I did what every girl would do:

I called up my dad on speed dial.

(I've been calling my dad with crisis related mechanical questions since I got my first car. He's used to my mechanical language. We have this complex diagnostic dialogue that we do over the phone. Here's a piece of the actual conversation. )

"Hello."
"Dad, I need you to tell my why in the world my generator won't run. It starts and dies in 5 seconds."
"Well does it have gas?"
"Of course it has gas! I'm not a dork."
"Tell me everything you've done."
"I turn the switch to on, put it on full choke, and pull the crank. It runs for 5 seconds and dies. If I move the choke...it dies. No matter what I do, it dies."

"Try to start it and let me hear it over the phone."

I set the phone down on the toolbox and crank. Same thing happens.

I pick the phone back up.

"It sounds like it's starving for fuel."

I mess with the choke a little. Nothing.
He has me do like 15 more things....cranking in between each thing so we can see if it works. Nothing.
I take some pictures of the fuel line and send them to him so he can have a visual.

Now the cows are gathered around. They lick the hose to mock me.

I tell them, "Patience, Ladies! I'm workin' on it!"

25 minutes has gone by. I'm out of breath from cranking.

Dad asks me about the carburater.
I say, "Is it the silver thingie hooked to the fuel line?"
He seems doubtful about my engine skills.

He asks if the air intake is clean.
It's spotless.

He tells me to take apart the fuel line to see if there's a clog.

Here's the part where I rethink my entire high school experience:

"Dad, why in the heck was I a cheer leader in highschool???? My cheerleading skills have done nothing to help me out in real life. What I should have done is take auto mechanics, and small engine repair classes. That way, I wouldn't have to call someone every time something goes wrong with the machinery on this outfit!! What was I thinking???"

I hang up the phone.

I check the fuel line as best I could. I actually have no idea what I'm doing. It seems satisfactory.

By now, my arms are trembling from starting the generator 46 times. I'm covered in gas, oil, mud, and manure. I decide to take a break and wallow in self pity on the back of the truck tool box for a good 3 minutes with my feet kicked up on the generator. I ponder life as I stare at a black heifer nudging my hose with her face.

Then I pray.

"Dear Lord, I could really use a little help right now. If you would see fit to help me start this generator, I would sure appreciate it. Amen."

When it comes to prayers pleading for help, it's best to keep it short and sweet.

I decided to give it one last crank.

Miracle of Miracles, it ran like a champ!

I cried out, "THANK YOU JESUS!!!!!

A minute later I called my dad so he could hear the purr of the engine.

He said, "What did you do different?"

"I prayed."

I thanked my dad for all of the help and hung up the phone. I watered the cows and drove home with a sense of satisfaction.

Everything I've ever learned about mechanics has been from little challenges like these throughout the years. I can put all of my knowledge in a little sack and it wouldn't amount to squat. But there's one thing I DO know. I've got a 24 hour help line available to me at all times. When my husband is away, it's nice to have Dad on speed dial.

Oh, and....

When all else fails, it never hurts to talk to God about it. After all, He does do miracles.

My Personal Rebellion

2011-10-20T11:54:00.000-07:00

Last night, I wore jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and my favorite black vest filled with down feathers to my son's football practice because it's getting colder.

But....I wore flip flops on my feet. I wore the flip flops as a form of rebellion against the cold weather.

I wore flip-flops to signify my disapproval of the impending 6 months of brown grass and naked twigs that will cover the ugly landscape.

I wore flip-flops to protest the coming season of chipping ice, hauling water, feeding hay, and shoveling snow.

I wore flip-flops to show my disdain for the driving spring winds and cabin fever that will ensue.

I wore flip-flops.....because I was a complete idiot. I froze my toes off. I shivered for two hours at the ball field. I lost all feeling in my limbs. It took three hours and a steaming hot shower to regain blood circulation to my big toes. My rebellion against cold weather became my own personal misery.

I'm still not ready for winter to come, but I shall show my disapproval in some other way from now on. A way that is not so painful to my body.

For now, I will tuck away my beloved flip-flops in hopes of warmer weather. For now, I will settle for socks and closed toed shoes. For now, I will look forward to the day that the weatherman says there is more than a 2% chance of snow so I can pull out my cherished Sorrel Snow Boots. For now I will choose to be content in all seasons.

Good bye flip-flops. Hello Snow Boots.

Nell

Autumn in my Neck of the Woods

2011-10-19T07:50:00.000-07:00

7 Random Things

2011-10-18T12:02:00.000-07:00

1. We drove to Payson, a town that's two hours away from us, so we could return the rental car from our vacation. Whilst there, we ate at Macky's Grill. For dessert, I was lured into ordering this divine piece of heaven on a plate. It's called "Southwest Cheesecake." It's a piece of cheesecake wrapped into a tortilla, deep-fried, rolled in cinnamon- sugar, sliced, topped with strawberries and whipped cream, served with vanilla ice cream.

OH-MY-WORD.

DIVINE.

(I was mentally tortured because I shared this with the whole family, but I secretly wanted to eat the whole thing myself. Being selfless is next to impossible when Southwest Cheesecake is concerned.)

2. Now that we're back from vacation, we picked up our trusty dogs from my in-laws. They live the retired life over there with no kids to poke at them, no cows to pursue, and no patrols around the chicken coop. After a little R & R, they were ready to come home. Boone was happy to take up his post as captain of the truck bed when we hauled a load of steers to the butcher on Saturday.

Feeling the wind in his fur = 1 happy dog

3. I came back from vacation with a yucky head cold. To add insult to injury, I ~~burned~~ charred my little ol' tongue on some scalding hot cocoa. Stuffed up nose + burned tongue = pure misery. I can't breathe, smell, or taste anything at all.

4. I've been looking forward to devouring my 5th mini Pumpkin Pie Blizzard this month at Dairy Queen. They only have them for a limited time, so I try to enjoy them as often as possible before they're gone for another year. As a bonus, the new mini size allows me to indulge in my cherished blizzard with only a fraction of the calorie guilt. However, with my stuffy nose and burned tongue, I'm going to have to put off my weekly DQ date until I can taste again. Boo Hoo.

5. During school, I've been teaching my baby how to count money. We play a game where she buys things around the house and counts out the correct amount of change. She decided to buy our little hooligan dog, Chigger, for 15 cents. She asked her dad if Chigger could "really" be hers. He said, "Sure!" From that moment on, she's taken her ownership quite seriously. She has him sleep on her extra pillow, puts her doll blanket over him, and brushes "her dog" every day. She was devastated when she tried to kiss him goodnight on the lips last night and he tore through the house and retreated under our bed, never to be seen again. I don't think he likes all this new attention from his new "owner".

6. We got a hold of the entire Andy Griffith series, and my kids have been watching an episode every day after school. They LOVE it! The only problem is that the show is so old that none of their friends have ever seen it. My kids go around making obscure references to Barney Fife and their buddies get a blank stare on their face. But when they tell these things to my dad, he can remember the entire episode, and laughs right along with them. Sometimes old shows are the best shows!

7.The feline warrior who keeps the mice at bay around here is looking a bit ragged. We are currently in the heat of our annual hairball wars. Here's how it works: I catch her sleeping peacefully somewhere and I sneak up to her with the scissors. Then I commence to cutting chunks of matted-up fur off of her back until she wakes up, comes to full conscious awareness, and tries to swat at me with her evil claws. We are currently on our 7th session. Each session lasts approximately 2 minutes and 17 seconds. I'm considering wearing our welding gloves and having an all-out war with her until I get the job done. The kids call her "Kitty-Cutes." I call her "that @#$% CAT". Doesn't she know this is for her own good? Doesn't she know that I have her best interests at heart? I have only one thing to say: I shall be victorious!!!

Thanks for reading this madness,

Nell

San Antonio

2011-10-17T14:18:00.000-07:00

After entering Tennessee politics and serving two terms in Congress, Davy Crockett became disillusioned with political life and decided to leave it all behind him to explore Texas. Upon his departure from Tennessee, he made the famous quote:

"You may all go to hell and I will go to Texas."-Davy Crockett

Crockett fell in love with Texas, and died a year later fighting for its independence in the Battle of the Alamo on March 6, 1836.

On the last leg of our vacation, we stayed with good friends in San Antonio. You can't go to San Antonio without touring the Alamo. That's like living in Arizona your whole life and never hiking the Grand Canyon. Oh wait, I've never hiked the Grand Canyon. Bad Example. Moving on.

The story of the Alamo is absolutely fascinating and inspirational. It embodies the spirit and pride of Texas, and seeing the old architecture makes history come alive. Since returning home, I've been doing more research on David Crockett, Tejanos, and The Battle of the Alamo. It's all very interesting history!

After touring the Alamo, we decided to do some sight seeing on San Antonio's famous River Walk.

After a short jaunt down the river walk with six kids in tow, it became apparent that this could be a whole day shopping adventure in itself. After our history lesson at the Alamo, we decided that what we really needed was sustenance. Serious sustenance. So we ditched the river and had to go and experience a cuisine that is unique to San Antonio. Henry's Puffy Tacos. Pretty tasty stuff!

Our time in San Antonio was way too short. We realized that a family could realistically have an entire vacation in that city alone.

We had a LOOOOONG drive ahead of us, but we did manage to stop in El Paso long enough to know that we want to go back to take advantage of their dirt cheap western furniture, decor, jewelry, and boots.

I almost bought a pair of Texas Longhorns to hang in my living room, but upon further reflection, I realized that they wouldn't fit in the rental car. The horns would have had to lay across the kids' laps and out the window if we wanted to get them home. That would have been a torturous 7 hours in the car. (But don't think for one second that I didn't consider doing it!) Perhaps we will have to make a special bargain hunting trip to El Paso with our truck in the near future.

South Padre Sea Life and More!

2011-10-15T20:04:00.000-07:00

While we were on South Padre Island, we decided to do some exploring. We visited the Sea Turtle Rescue, and toured the tanks with various types of sea turtles in all different stages of rehabilitation. Many had shark damage to their limbs, or damage to their bodies from getting caught in floating debris. Most will be released back into the water, but the most severely damaged turtles will stay at the rescue.

The one thing that all sea turtles have in common: they look grouchy. Really grouchy.

This big guy woke up on the wrong side of the tank.

This one had a gorgeous shell.

This one would easily fit in the palm of my hand.

Another grouch.

After visiting the sea turtles, we made our way up the island with 4 wheel drive. This is one thing I LOVED about South Padre. After passing the last of the buildings, there are miles and miles of open beach, accessible with a truck, or jeep. We just drove right out onto the beach and up the coastline. There were tons of families having barbecues on the beach. It was so laid back.

As soon as we started barbecuing, the seagulls became our very best friends. They hovered our area by the droves in hopes of getting a little snack.

Few people ever make it up the beach this far, so there are tons of seashells for the picking.

On our way back, we stopped to look at some of the new beach subdivisions going in.

I think these houses are so classy looking.

After our tour of the island, we all had a delicious lunch at a restaurant called "The Big Donkey". It had the finest and most unique salsa we've ever eaten. It was orange in color from the variety of Serrano peppers used in the salsa, and it was served warm. I can almost taste it now!

Another perk of vacationing with another family is that we were able to each have a nice date night without the kids. We watched their kids one evening, and they watched ours on the next night. On our date night, we ate tasty fish tacos with Charro beans. Then we relaxed on the patio pier overlooking the bay at sunset. What a relaxing evening with my sweetheart!

I'll end with this picture. This sign made me laugh because it combines two of my great loves: Texas and Dr. Pepper!

God Bless Texas.

Texas Vacation: Day 2

2011-10-14T22:02:00.000-07:00

When our friends invited us to join them for a week long vacation at a beach house in South Texas, we were beyond excited! When we left our house, it was 37 degrees and snowing!!! 22 hours later, we were soaking up sunshine on the beaches of South Padre Island, Texas! It was a balmy 89 degrees with a low of 77. Pure Paradise!

Most folks think "wild spring break" destination when they think of South Padre Island, but we practically had the beach to ourselves! The water was warm, the waves were perfect, and the beaches were clean. It's the most laid back, family atmosphere I've experienced.

Nothing says "relaxation" like having warm sand between your toes.

We started off our beach trip with a lesson on building sandcastles from a professional sand sculptor. Who knew that you could do so much with sand? After we learned the tricks of the trade, we put our new skills to good use. We had the rest of the trip to perfect our new art form.

The best thing about vacationing with our friends is that we all have kids who are the same ages. That means that the kids always had a buddy or two to play with. Whether they were swimming, building sand castles, riding scooters, or just hanging out, we never had to worry about them. They got along splendidly, and they stayed out of our hair. It was a brilliant plan! Our family had the downstairs house, and our friends had the upstairs home. Our kids were together 24 hours a day, and had a blast!

Buddies.

Inseparable.

Waiting for a wave.

Totally cute!

Building sand castles with intricate canal systems and moats.

Boogie boarding and body surfing.

The bay side of the island is very calm, but we stayed on the gulf side, where the waves were terrific for boogie boarding. The ocean was so warm that it felt like bath water. Our kids stayed in the waves for hours and hours every day. We had to yank them out of the water against their will at dinner time. I'm convinced they would swim from dawn to dusk every day if we would have let them.

The island has gorgeous sunsets, too!