The First Monday In March

It is Monday, but it is a good day. The student I usually see on Monday is unable to meet today, so that freed up some time. I do have a meeting at three, but until then….. I have about a million chores around the house. Laundry is the never ending cycle of life. Adam and Eve really had it made, then they had to go and mess things up. Sweeping/Vacuuming is a necessary evil when one has indoor pets. Fur roams the house like tumbleweeds in the desert. If you ever come to visit, don’t look too closely. I think I will put chicken in the crockpot for dinner, and possibly make some phone calls that I need to quit putting off. Maybe.




It was supposed to be snowy today, but the storm took a more southerly track and so we only have a few inches here in central Ohio. That is okay, I suppose. I don’t mind winter, unlike most of my friends. I love Spring too…just not days of rain and mud. I’m not a fan of the mud. Out here in the country there is a lot of it. When there is a lot of it outside, that means there will be a lot of it inside. I refuse to wear my new tennis shoes (that are way cool) until after the mud season. I want them to stay new looking for at least awhile. In the meantime, I will only wear cruddy shoes or rubber boots. After all, I am the farmyard fashionista. I’ve already almost lost my rubber boots to the sucking mud pit that is the horse field. Stuck in what felt like muddy quick sand. The horse found it amusing, me not so much.




With the winding down of the winter and the ramping up of the spring, this means planting of flowers. Now, I will fully admit that I am in no way, shape, or form, the green thumb of the family. That would fall to my sister. Too bad that she lives so far away, or I’d borrow her for this spring time ritual. Regardless, I need to plant stuff in the flowerbed out front. This year I am seriously considering planting the whole entire length of the front flower beds with lavender. That and a couple of rose bushes are the only plants that will survive in this soil. Seriously. The flowerbeds are also in the shade for most of the day. I figure lavender smells so good and it is pretty purple… will survive and look good doing it. That is good enough for me.












Spring also requires the cleaning out of the chicken coop(s). This is a completely disgusting job. I love my chickens and I love my fresh eggs. I do not enjoy chicken poop. The irony of coop and poop rhyming, is not lost on me. Okay, here is the thing, I see all these cute chicken coops in my country living magazines, I see them at the Amish stores, I see them all over……and anyone that has real live chickens knows that chickens poop. All over. Everywhere. They are poop machines. They don’t care if their coop is cute on not. They will poop on it and in it and around it. The cute coop will not be so cute anymore. I will not spend big bucks on a cute coop….when it a very short time, no matter how much one cleans, it will become the poop coop.












With warmer weather on the seasonal horizon, this means garage sales/yard sales/flea markets will be out and about soon. This is sort of my thing. And by thing I mean my love of the eclectic. My passion for the repurposed. It is what I enjoy when I don’t have to do all the “real life” stuff. I wish I could blend my love of flea markets with real life. That would be the best job ever. Well, maybe I could blend flea markets and traveling and writing together. Now, that would be the best. Just sayin’.














Sigh…… I guess I better get moving. The dryer just dinged, which means it is ready for yet another load.



Today I am thankful for: 


*snow covered front yard

*fresh eggs

*frozen ground and no icky mud

*a new flea market magazine to read

*some free time

*cinnamon tea scented candle

*my 7 day cold is finally about over! …..the sneezing is done!

*hearing good things about my son

*Happy Birthday to friends


*a new week

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good. His love endures forever. Psalm 136:1  NIV


A Love Hate Relationship

I have not heard the plow yet this morning.

I know it will come.

It always does.

The snow plow and I have a love hate relationship that has grown over the years.

I was looking back over my posts from previous winters and came across this one.

I just have to laugh.




A winter service vehicle clearing roads near T... 

As I have mentioned on more than one occasion, I happen to love getting mail.

This afternoon I decided that I would brave the cold temperature and go out and get the mail. I could have sent one of the kids, I suppose…but, getting the mail is kind of my thing.  I live such an exciting, adventuresome life. At this point it was snowing and the wind was blowing and I was thinking I should have pulled on a coat instead of just wearing a sweatshirt. Oh well, I live. I learn. And I freeze to death. It’s all in a days work.

After dutifully looking both ways before crossing the road at the end of our driveway, I made my way to the mailbox. Woo hoo! I got mail! After perusing my mail, I went to close the mailbox lid. It would not close. I slammed it. It fell back open. I jiggled the lid then slammed it. It fell back open. I gingerly closed it. Still not working. Now, I was becoming annoyed with my big, black, plenty of room for packages, mailbox. One more time I jiggled, slammed, pushed the door shut. It stuck. Finally, I was half way back up the driveway when I heard the mailbox door fall open. Again. I gave up…and just continued up the driveway.

The mailbox will no doubt be filled with snow or ice in the morning. Sigh.

I’ll have you know that I totally and completely blame the snow plow guy for this whole mailbox fiasco. Earlier this year, he bent our lovely mailbox in one of his plowing ventures. This is part of my blog entry from February 8th of this year….

I just heard scraping out on the road. It’s the snow plow. Probably plowing our driveway shut. Again. Oh no. This time the snow avalanche hit our mailbox and popped the door of the mailbox open. Great. So now snow can get in and make our mail nice and wet. Lovely. At least our mailbox is still in one piece. Living out here in rural America one sees a lot of mailboxes that have seen the bad end of a snow plow. My friend, who grew up here, informed me that winter mailboxes are attached to the post with a myriad number of things. Duct tape, bungee cords, an old belt….whatever one can find to hold the mailbox together. After all, who wants to spend money on a new mailbox if the plow is just going to destroy it again? Makes sense to me. Our mailbox used to have a fancy piece on top, that had our family name on it. It lasted all of 2 seconds. We found it laying in the ditch last winter. A victim of the plow.

For The Love Of Laundry

I can’t believe it is already Friday…again. The days, they move with lightening speed. IMG_0357

Today’s Five Minute Friday prompt is: LAUNDRY.


When I first saw today’s prompt, I thought, laundry? Really? What is there to say about laundry?

Stinky clothes. Stained with mud and crud.

Piles of laundry…never ending mounds and pounds of clothes.

Ordinary, mundane, several times a week, laundry.

Have to get it done, not really a choice. A chore that I can do without thinking about it.

But, as I write this, something occurs to me.

Sometimes the greatest things can be found in the most simple and ordinary. (and no, I don’t mean finding change in jeans pockets…although that is a perk)

I am thankful for the family members that wear these clothes.

I am grateful that I have a washer and dryer and don’t have to lug all this mess to the Laund-O-Rama. (been there, done that)

After all, there is a story in my Mt. Washmore.

The story of our lives.



10 Reasons I Hate Grocery Shopping

Standard shopping cart, picture taken at a Weg...

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It is the end of a long week and time for a good laugh…..

I had to go to the grocery store this morning. It was either that, or allow my family to starve. I considered it. Ahem…..just kidding.  The grocery store is not my favorite place. As a matter of fact, I find myself becoming overly depressed when food shopping. I can literally feel myself becoming poor with each push of the cart…..which leads me to the ten reasons I hate grocery shopping.

1. I always end up with the renegade cart that has wheels that go in different directions. I think I have a predetermined genetic condition that draws the wobbly carts to me. The strongest thing I drink is iced tea, but steering the crazy cart up and down the aisles makes me look like I’ve been on a week long bender. A great way to start the morning, let me tell you.

2. The one thing I’m looking for is not on the shelf. A.) It is now a discontinued product and will no longer be available. or B.) I got there too late and some other mom scarfed up all goods and left nary a crumb for anyone else. At the time I was thinking ugly thoughts. I will not type them for all to see.

3. I had to go through 5 egg cartons before I found one that didn’t have damaged eggs. Ugh. If an egg can go through all the trauma of being laid by a chicken…..can’t we get them into a box and shipped without cracking about a million of them? Just saying. I have cracked egg frustration.

4. Little old ladies that talk on their cell phone…LOUDLY. I realize that she probably spoke loudly because she couldn’t hear herself…..but, the rest of the store could. Plus, every time she replied to the person on the other end of the conversation, she stopped her cart. I almost ran her down. Not intentionally.

5. Meat is expensive. My family likes meat. They have membership cards to carnivores of America. They know the difference between real meat and fake meat. I’ve already tried that.

6. I got all the way through the store and realized that I had forgotten something. Because I didn’t make a list this time. Because I was tired and didn’t feel like it. Now, I pay the price! Oh well, I didn’t need it that bad.That’s my story anyway.

7. There is a man in front of me with 50 bazillion items and there are no other cashiers available, so I sigh and get in line.

8. There is a woman behind me with two items and I let her go in front of me because if I don’t I’ll feel guilty. She said, “thank you” to me. I smile, but I’m really thinking, “I hate you because you only have two things to buy”. Okay, I didn’t really hate her. I was just jealous. Plus, I was sweating from all the steering of the cart and schlepping meat products into those plastic bags. It’s hard work, people.

9. The grocery store parking lot has a trillion parking places, most of which were empty at this time of the day. You’d think that no one would feel the need to park smack dab next to my van. Well, you would be wrong! As I came outside and pushed my cart to the van I notice a car parked on the side of my van that has the sliding door. The door I need to open and get the cart next to so I can unload my groceries. I begin to talk to myself (and to anyone within earshot)……Who parks a car that close to a van when there are a ton of other parking spots?????!!!!!! I am forced to squeeze the cart in between the van and car. Just as I am situated and attempting to unload, a woman and her teen daughter emerge from the store. She laughed, “Oh, sorry. I guess I parked a little close.” I gave her the death glare. She deserved it.

10. After returning the cart to the store, I jumped in the van and circled around to the entrance of the parking lot….at which point I heard several thuds and realized that my canned food was now rolling around on the van floor……Big sigh. I’ll have the kids help me unpack when I get to the house. They can crawl around on the floor looking for the canned peas.