A Jolly Dammit Holiday

I would love to share some pictures of the kids opening presents, or of the historic blizzard which kept us home-bound all holiday weekend, but I can't. It seems someone has crammed playdough into my USB cable for my camera, and it is not currently functioning. So...I shall blab on without the any visual aids.

I don't know why I bothered to decorate for Christmas this year. A two year old, a one year old, and a puppy all reside at my house, and the mission of each is to spend every waking moment destroying one thing or other. I thought I could get away with putting non-breakable ornaments on the tree. bwahahahahaha. The kids and the puppy had a team effort of removing them from the tree, even climbing a chair to reach the un-reachable ornaments, then flinging them on the floor for the puppy to chew.

I had a foot tall Santa doll perched on the dining table. The kids waited until Christmas day to get him, and break his neck. Jason asked: "What happened to Santa?"
"They broke his neck, but I think I can fix it."
"Did somebody not get what they wanted for Christmas."
A few minutes later Gunther strolled through the living room carrying Santa's dis-embodied head. If I can't repair it, then perhaps I can turn it into a Halloween decoration. Think positive.

Oh, and we strung lights around our porch, but the puppy thought that the bulbs looked like tasty snacks, and broke any lights within his reach. If ANYBODY wants a puppy, I will pay you ten bucks to take him.

To top things off, a blizzard blew in early Christmas Eve. I have been stuck in the house with two bored babies, a destructive puppy, two flatulent hound dogs and an antsy husband. Going outside to feed the animals was a welcome break even in the 63 mph wind gusts and frigid temps.

Our power was on and off for a couple days. We had no power Christmas morning, got it back, then lost it again. It sucked, but at least the kids had plenty of toys to distract them from the fact that we couldn't watch t.v. or eat hot food.

Oh....and Jason got his work truck stuck in a seven foot snow drift on Christmas eve, and had to walk a quarter of a mile in a blizzard to get home. He carried his case of cherry coke, and my case of diet coke the whole way. God bless him! I may have had a breakdown and stabbed someone (most likely a puppy) had I had to endure the holiday without my canned diet crack.

Locked Out

A few nights ago, I attempted to sneak out to feed the animals. It was almost dark and Jason would be late coming home from work.Usually I would take the kids out with me, but it was bitter cold and we were all recovering from the flu.` I put the kids in front of the t.v. with some snacks, and slid out the door with the baby monitor in hand, so that I might hear any real catastrophes. There is a reason why single mothers don't have hobby farms, it just doesn't work. When I returned from my chores a few minutes later, the side door was locked. I went around to the front door, and it too was locked. Barrett was smiling at me through the window.
"Barrett! Turn the lock. I can't get in." I made turning motions with my hand and pointed at the door.
Barrett laughed.
I kept my eye on the situation through the windows while I filled some water buckets for the animals with the hose. I was hoping that Jason might just drive up at any second, and the problem would be resolved. Gunther was walking around, crying a bit, but he would stop crying when I talked to him through the window. Every time I banged on the door, Barrett would laugh. Oh, and did I mention it was about twenty degrees outside?

I finally came to terms with the fact that Jason was not going to pull up and rescue me. I had to break into my house. I walked around the house, and sized up which window would be easiest to open, or break. Most of the windows have an inner and outer window, and are not easy to breech. I remembered that Dan had broken the inner window in my bedroom recently, while yelling at a plastic bag blowing through the yard.Seriously. So, I would only have to open one window there. I got in pretty easily. Jason had left the ladder out for my convenience.

When I came in, Barrett acted as if I had been out having a fun adventure. Since I had left, he had removed his pants and his diaper. He had also pulled a stool up to the kitchen counter and had turned ON A BURNER. It was fortunate that he had only burned the bottom of my mashed potatoes and not lit the house on fire. He had also dropped some miscellaneous utensils into the the two pans that I had on the stove. I was in the process of cooking dinner when I went out to do my chores. I made sure to turn the stove off, but Barrett seemed sure that I had made a mistake.

Well....you might guess that I will not leave my house without a key ever again.

My 09 Music List

I have been very excited about this list for weeks. I have been drafting it in my head while vacuuming, or doing dishes. I like to pretend that the world has been holding it's breath, waiting for me to name my top ten favorites songs of 09. In reality, I know that no one really gives a flying f%#* about my opinion. Will that stop me from sharing it? Nope.

1. "Home" by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros
2. "Sun Hands" by Local Natives
3. "Compulsion" by Doves
4. "Fangela" by Here We Go Magic
5."All the Kings Men" by Wild Beasts
6. "Ready, Able" by Grizzly Bear
7. "Silver Trembling Hands" by The Flaming Lips
8."Winter Games" by Foreign Born
9. "Shelia" by Atlas Sound
10. "It Ain't Gonna Save Me" by Jat Reatard

As far as albums go, I won't make a list. I will say that my fellow Okies, The Flaming Lips, knocked that ball out of the park this year with "Embryonic". Also, Doves made a wonderful, very listenable album, "Kingdom of Rust". My boys in Grizzly Bear also made another fanfuckintastic album: "Veckatimest".
This was the year of mellow. What I wish for from 2010 are some dancing tunes.

If you have five minutes to kill, you should really watch/listen to this. I promise you won't regret it.

A Good Trade

Jason sold one of his vehicles. This came only after he had replaced it with a new ride. He drove an old Jeep truck home from the junkyard. After this event he said to me: "It's always interesting when you are driving something out of the junkyard."
I don't think I have ever known anyone else who would EVER say this. It's a phrase unique to Jason.

Here is the junkyard prize.

He traded it for some miscellaneous car part he had no use for....so it was essentially free.
Since Jason had a new "firewood truck", he no longer needed "Super Turd", his old firewood truck, he made the decison to part with Super Turd. I had to hold back my tears (If you can't sense my sarcasm then there is something wrong with you).
Here is our beloved Super Turd, who left us on a trailer a couple weeks ago. I will give Jason credit for making a 200% profit on her.


What did we do with that profit? We bought a 47 inch, glorious, new t.v.!!! My life has been more fulfilling and meaningful for a whole eight days now.

bye bye crappy truck = hello pretty t.v. = happy Audrey

Walking Baby

I almost forgot....Gunther, or BoBo as he has been dubbed by Barrett, started walking about two weeks ago. Feast your eyes!!



The racket you hear in the background is Dan howling incessantly at a barn cat.

Pilfered Cake is the Tastiest

My birthday was this past weekend, and my parents were kind enough to get me a cake. They got me a three-layered chocolate cake coated with chocolate shavings to be specific. It was darn tasty.

I left the cake on the counter after cutting a slice for Jason. (Jason and the boys ate waaay more of my cake than I did, and for that I am grateful.) The lovely confection was covered in one of those plastic cake-dome thingies, so I figured it was safe for a bit. When I went to put it back in the fridge a little while later, I noticed that one side of the cake had been vandalized. My first suspect was Dan, our food-obsessed coonhound. Then I thought: "how could Dan get the lid back on?", and I looked down to notice that the stand we use for the dog bowls (it's better to feed big dogs on a raised surface) had been moved across the kitchen. A three-foot tall terrorist had used this tool to make himself about four and a half feet tall, thus big enough to reach a cake, swipe some icing, then replace the lid. If only he hadn't left his "step stool" by the counter he may have gotten away with it. Barrett is only two and a half, and is already a criminal mastermind. I worry about what the future holds...

He's good at looking like he is inncocent, but I don't buy it.

Turkey Romance

This will be the last time that I post about Mallory, the nutty turkey. You may remember my previous posts about Mallory. She has been gone for a couple weeks now and I have been in denial. I keep thinking she may just show back up. The reality is that there is about a .004% chance of that occurring.

Here is what I want to believe is Mallory's fate, and no one can tell me otherwise:
Turkeys mate in long-term in pairs. We have (had) two females and one tom turkey. Shawn, our resident tom, took to Melissa (Mallory's sister), thus making Mallory the third wheel. Mallory embraced being single, running about the farm doing crazy s#!* like taunting the dogs, and letting two years olds pet her. Then one day she took a walk down to the creek bed.....

Out of the mist appeared a young, roguish tom turkey. He was a wild turkey, not tethered to a hen house, or a five o'clock supper time. He introduced himself as Thor, and complimented Mallory on her plumage. "What's a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?" asked Thor. Mallory explained that she was misunderstood back on the farm, and that her only friends were a redheaded midget and a noisy hound dog. Thor asked her to come away with him and be "his lady". Mallory obliged. She hopped on the back of Thor's motorcycle...eh...crap, turkeys don't drive motorcycles. She got in his Camaro and drove off, barely glancing back at Dammit Farms.

One day, after many, many months, Mallory will stop by the farm again. She will tell me she's okay and show me her babies. We'll have a cup of tea and talk about the old days, then she'll go back to her life in the wilderness with Thor.

Winter Wheat

The glorious thing about rural Oklahoma in winter is the vibrant green of winter wheat. After the few trees that we have lose their leaves, the green returns with the fields of winter wheat. It's one of the many things I love about living here. It's hard to get the winter blues when all you see is sunshine and green fields.

Daylight Savings.......why?

In case you were wondering...neither goats, nor chickens, nor dogs, nor babies understand that there is an arbitrary time change. They can't tell time time. I understand why some rural communities ignore daylight savings altogether. You can't just throw everything's schedule off by an hour, and not have repercussions. My goats unroll the plans for a coupe de' tat if I am ten minutes late with breakfast. If I am an hour late, fires are burning, and they have devised a plan to sacrifice me to their god.

The result from the time change seems to be that every creature on Dammit Farms now has a F*#%&# up schedule. The human children have been particularly cranky and unpredictable. Who suffers the most? Me. I am hallucinating from lack of rest. I found myself standing in the yard this morning, wondering why I had walked out there. I had to go through a mental checklist " feed the chickens? no. I'm not carrying garbage, or anything that needs to be disposed. That's not it. Are the dogs misbehaving? Did I come out to yell at them? mmmm...nope. Waffles! Waffles from the deep freeze! That is why I came outside."

From my understanding daylight savings began during World War One, as a way to optimize productivity in factories, which were mostly lit by the sun. It has little importance now, and actually costs us more than it saves....plus it's a pain in the a$$.

My New Music Fascination

Why these dudes are rocking 'staches....I have no idea. It negatively afftects their Hottie McNasty status. Is the 'stache in this year? Last year it was the beard. I told Jason that beards were in style according to "Rolling Stone", and he shaved his lumberjack beard the next week:-) Apparently he is too cool for trends.

Jason, don't get pissed at me for writing that.

Anypoop, I love love love this band.

Never Say Never

I said that I would NEVER get a puppy again after Dan. Dan ruined puppies for me, since he was a complete turd when he was a baby. Why is there a puppy in my house? Well, there was a dog living with her litter under one of Jason's natural gas compressors (he is a compressor mechanic). Only one of the pups lived. Jason had been trying to find a home for the puppy, as well as his mama. There didn't seem to be any takers for either dog. I told Jason that we could take the puppy if he was sure there was no other option.

Jason got a service call for the compressor where the dogs were living on Sunday night. He witnessed the puppy nearly get hit by a truck while trying to follow his mom across the road. Jason couldn't live with himself if were to come back and see the sweet puppy as road kill. SO.....we have a friggin puppy. Jason named him Mack, after the truck that nearly snuffed him out. He is very sweet, and cute. The boys adore him....and I am also falling for him. He is an Australian Shepherd mutt, which ruins our hound theme, but hey.....he fell in our lap.

A Rooster and a Skunk

Many thanks to Meemaw for making Gunther's skunk costume! Also, a big thanks to my nephew for passing down the rooster costume to his little cousin, Barrett. We had a lot of fun trick or treating. Barrett could hardly carry his sack, it was so full of candy by the end of the night.

Halloween and Meaning

On this day, three years ago, I found out that I was pregnant with Barrett. It's one of those memories that will live as if it were yesterday FOREVER. I had a cold, and my period was late. I went to Walgreens and bought cold medicine, and a pregnancy test. The checker was a friendly woman, who was dressed as Elvis. I will never forget our conversation.
Elvis lady: I will always remember when I first found out I was pregnant. My breasts were sore, and I thought I had the flu. You know how your breasts get sore when you have the flu?
Me: NOD +SMILE....."my boobs have NEVER been sore with the flu. BUT,my boobs sure are sore now" I think to myself.
Elvis lady: Then I took a pregnacy test and found that I was pregnant.
Me: Well.....this is not exactly planned, but...
Elvis lady: (interrupting me) Oh. Well, you can never plan for it, honey.
Me: It would be okay......but.....

The Elvis lady finishes checking me out.

Elvis Lady: Good luck to you
Me: Thank you.

I sit in my car, and I know that I am pregnant. The test is not is only verification when I get home and it ptactically screams "PREGNANT" moments later. The tears roll from shock, then the tears roll from joy. I am so thankful for my beautiful boy.

Punkins

We went to a local pumpkin farm yesterday. It had just rained, the field was muddy, the wind was cold, but we had fun. We were the only ones there. An older gentleman with "PAPA" emblazoned on his sweatshirt emerged from his warm house to greet us. "It's a muddy mess out there, but you are welcome to go out. Pick whatever you like, and take as many pictures as you want." So...we did just that.

Gunther was very happy about his pumpkin.

Later my mother in law, or Nana as the kids call her, came over and we carved pumpkins. This is a crummy picture of our end result. Jason took off all week. At the beginning of the week he picked up a spray gun to finish painting our house....as you can see he did not use it. He was too busy watching horror movies that earned a whopping one star, such as "Eaten Alive" made in 1977......boy am I ready for him to go back to work.

Oh, and these are the fancy cows that live at the pumpkin farm. I just liked them. I think Dammit Farms could use a longhorn cow. I don't know what for......but they are cool. No?

Wyatt is a Wild Man

The Accused


The Crime



Remember that sweet baby goat that was born here in July? That sweet little baby ? Well, Wyatt, our first Dammit Farms birth, has turned into an adorable hellion. Every time I am dumb enough to let him out of his pen, I regret it. I'll look outside to see him standing on the roof of our truck, or eating the cable that connects the satellite to our house. I've talked to Patty, his mama, about getting him under control. She chides him "meh ahhhh ah meccccchhhh ah", and he ignores her. I know how she feels. Barrett ignores me too.

Wyatt's escapades outside of his pen have been stopped for now. He is grounded. He broke the hood to our lawn mower. Jason is not happy. Wyatt was not seen actually breaking the hood to the lawnmower, so I say he is innocent until proven guilty. However, there are no other suspects and he doesn't have an alibi. I think he will not be leaving his confines any time soon.

Gunther is One!

My sweet little guy is one today. I can't imagine my life without Gunther/Bobo/Gravy/ Wide Glide/ Fat Boy. Yes, he has more nicknames than anyone else in our house. He is a delightful child, and I am lucky to be his mama.

The pictures go in reverse oreder from most recent to oldest. The last one is when he still lived in my belly.

Hobby Farm Reality

I often read Hobby Farm Home, which is like the rural version of "Home and Garden". It's a beautiful magazine, with lovely pictures of produce and fancy chickens. It would make anyone want to give up their McMansion in the suburbs for a quaint farmhouse in ruralia. It actually holds a lot of information that is pertinent to me and the function of our little acreage. I strive for my home to be like the pictures of opulent country living. However, I/we miss the mark. Our dart is totally off the Hobby Farm Home dart board actually.

There is a major difference in vision versus the reality. They fail to mention several things:

• Hobby farms and death go hand in hand. Chickens will be massacred by predators, goats and sheep will fall to mysterious illness.


• Renovating a farmhouse is a lifelong project. You will be victim to previous renovators and the wood paneling, and shag carpet that they left behind. There is no way to prepare for all of the house issues you may encounter.


• Once you have decided to take on a hobby farm, you are likely stuck there. It's hard to find someone to take on your gazillion chores and do them right. I have attempted to write out instructions for chores, and I think the result was about three typed pages, single spaced. If you hire some hapless teenager to do the job, you know they will stop reading after the third sentence and "wing it".


• Finding a snake in your laundry room will be a uninteresting occurrence. Barely worth mentioning to friends and family. This happened last week and my thought was "No biggie. It's not poisonous."


• Every insect for miles will see the light on in your kitchen and fling themselves against the window repeatedly.


• Field mice will trade the field in a heartbeat for a little nest in the coat closet. Expect to battle a rodent infiltration at least twice a year.

Of course there are a lot of great things about a hobby farm like fresh eggs, and a bunch of animal compainions. It's just a life that lacks glamour.

On another...totally unrelated note: I got my first pair of cowboy boots! I have needed a pair for some time. Jason bought them for me as a sort of early birthday present. Looky!!! Aren't they cute?

Two Babies in A Little Car

Barrett demands that Gunther rides with him in his Gator. It's about the cutest thing I think that I have ever seen.

Excuse the appearance of our house....it is under construction.

Meteorology School

What do they do there? Really...I'm asking. Does anybody know? They must just get smashed for years, because they don't have to learn anything. Well, they have to learn how to look like they know what they are doing in front of a green screen. I don't imagine that lesson takes more than a few hours. That leaves many years to master one's "keg stand form".

This is my summary of a forecast from our local news last week:
There is a sixty percent chance of rain on Thursday. This could go up or down. It could be just a scattered shower, or it could rain all day.

What?That doesn't mean anything. I means that: A. It could rain all day long B. It could be totally sunny, and not rain. C. There could be a random storm at any time.
I think that covers everything, except for snow. I'm surprised they didn't throw a 2% chance of snow in there just to be sure they had covered every possible weather incident.

Here is my weekly forecast. It applies to everyone, no matter where you live. Don't waste your time watching the weather.

This week the temps will be between -30 and 102 degrees Fahrenheit. It will be partly cloudy, or mostly sunny. There is a 5% chance of snow, which will increase to 100% if you see white stuff falling from the sky. Hail and sleet are possible, but not guaranteed. There is a 30% chance of rain, but that could go up or down. uhhh....keep your eyes peeled for tornadoes....there is a 1.5% chance your house will be torn from it's foundation and dumped atop the local Wal-mart.

I think KFOR should just put me on their payroll. I can do the weather. I just proved it.

Fall Days

The weather has been pretty mild lately, and we have been enjoying some outside time. I have been loading the boys in the wagon and walking to the mailbox. Our mailbox is a little less than a mile from our house, so it's a bit of a hike. Dragging two tots is quite a workout in itself. My forearms have been sore this week. Pain is a sign of progress, right?

The kids enjoy the wagon rides, but they can't seem to decide on who gets "shotgun". So, they just whine and climb over one another. I had to tell Gunther "sit on your bottom" about eighteen times during our walk yesterday. I'm lucky that neither of them ended up falling head-first onto the concrete.

I tried to get a shot of the Wichita Mountains, which you can see quite clearly on our walk, but they did not come out at all. I'll have to try again at some other time. It's more impressive in person, anyway.

Biodiesel Factory

Jason, in his quest to be more like Willie Nelson, is going to start making biodiesel. Willie runs his tour bus on biodiesel, if you didn't know. Anywho, the project is in its beginning stages. He will have to wait until spring when it is warmer to get it going. I know nothing about the biodiesel creation process. I just know that it requires used cooking oil, heat, and these impressive giant barrels (look to the right).

Our main family ride is a diesel F350 with a crew cab. Jason wants to drive for free. He has been looking at diesel mercedes from the 80's for me. I'm not going to comment about that.....but, yes he is serious.

Coming soon: Dammit Farms brand Biodiesel.

Oh, Danny Boy

Dan drives me insane on a daily basis. He steals food from the kitchen counter, he howls at random things outside, and wakes up babies. He steals my spot on the couch, and refuses to move. The dog is a total food-obsessed turd, but he's a sweet turd, and we love him. Sometimes my frustration with him overwhelms me, and I forget what an important role he plays in our family.

He loves the kids wholeheartedly. I am convinced that he would take a bullet for them. They are HIS babies too...plus they give him food whether they are witting or not. Anyone who gives Dan food is a friend for life. I take comfort in Dan's presence, since I am ALONE in the middle of nowhere much of the time. Few people want to mess with a 100+ pound dog who is REALLY loud and intimidating. Shhhhhh! Don't tell anyone that he is a giant ball of mushy love.

Dan has reinforced his importance the past couple nights. Coyotes have bee coming too close to our property for comfort. They make a pretty big racket to announce their presence. It's an unnerving cackling noise that they make. Considering we keep goats, and chickens, which are both tasty coyote snacks the coyotes pose a threat to us. Fortunately, the coyotes want nothing to do with Dan. We let the dogs out, they howl for a few minutes, the coyotes go away, the dogs come back in. Dan and I were enjoying a granola bar at two a.m. this morning when I heard the coyotes. Dan's ears perked up. "You wanna go get 'em, Dan?" I let him out the door and within a few seconds the coyotes were booking it across our neighbor's wheat field. I rewarded Dan with some of my granola bar. I do love that stupid dog.

Coyotes beware!

100th Post!

This is my 100th post. I would have reached this mark sooner, but my husband made me delete the posts that did not make him look favorable. I hate censorship. Anyway, I have NOTHING clever to say today, no bird obituaries to post, no baby shenanigans to document. Sooo.....I'm just going to post a little video I shot of me feeding the goats. Sorry if it makes you dizzy. It's not easy holding a camera while be bombarded by four knucklehead goats.
Yes, I feed the animals in my pajamas. No comments about that are necessary :-)

Today's Fridge Adventure

CHOCOLATE SYRUP

I give up. I swear that I watch my kids. This happened in a matter of a couple minutes. I was trying to put away laundy. I'm off to give my children a bath.

Have You Seen This Turkey? (Edited!)

The one in front is Mallory....I think.

Mallory is missing! I haven't seen her since yesterday morning. She is my crazy turkey who follows us around. It's really obvious that she is not present. I don't know what happened to her. I suspect she ventured toward the creek yesterday. The air has been cooler, and more predators are on the prowl this time of year. Here is my list of suspects: a bobcat (most likely), coyotes, a raccoon, a stray dog, a snake, a hawk. I hate nature some days. Nature is a vicious, old bitch.

I'm really heartbroken. Barrett loved her too. I would often find him sitting in the yard petting her. I hope that she will return, but it's not likely. I have never had a bird leave for this long and come back. An absence almost always means the worst.

Edit:

Nevermind! That crazy bird showed up in the yard for supper. Where she has been? I have no clue. False alarm! Mallory is still here, and still crazy.

The Terrific Twos

If I stay positive about Barrett's status as a two year old, then it will seem better, right?


Here is a brief description of his latest antics:

• I can no longer take a "normal" picture of him. He contorts his face into this silly "wink/blink" expression every time he sees the camera. He thinks he is funny. Well, he is funny, but I would really like a normal picture of my cute son.
• I sat down to enjoy a Klondike bar the other day. I hadn't eaten one in at least ten years. I was thoroughly enjoying it, when Barrett discovered me. He demanded a bite, and I gave in. He then yanked the frozen goodness from my hands and wandered off. Barrett will steal from his mama for a Klondike bar.
• He found one of his father's sharpies (bad daddy for leaving it out). Within about two minutes he had drawn all over the couch, the laptop and one of the dogs.
• While I was cooking dinner one evening, I was SURE he was watching "Cars" in the living room. Nope. He snuck into my room and had discovered my makeup bag. He smeared his entire face with lipstick, and made sure to paint the sheets while he was at it.
• I went to the bathroom on Saturday evening (I know. I know...stupid me!) I came out to find my kids making drawings in a mountain of baking soda on the floor in front of the fridge. This was the second baking soda incident within a month. I had been taping the fridge closed, but I had become lax in my refrigerator security detail. Both Gunther and Barrett were covered. I did my best to document the event. (see pics)
• The keys to the lawn mower are missing. Barrett is our prime suspect, but his lips are sealed. We may never know the fate of the keys.

A Bit of a Rant

I have been thinking a lot about Jaycee Lee Dugard, and her eighteen year hiatus from her family. As a mother, this is extremely horrifying. I look at my sons and wonder what sports they will play, or what kind of girl they will take to the prom. To have all of that time taken from me and from them by a sick piece of crap is about the worst thing I could imagine. The fact that her kidnapper had previously served time, but was freed and able to commit this evil crime, is absolutely depressing.

Jails and prisons are clogged with those convicted of drug related charges. It's easy to get a drug conviction, the evidence is a tangible object. District attorneys, and police do not have to do much work. It's difficult for a judge or jury to deny that that X amount of substance A was found on the defendant's vehicle, home, person, etc. It is my personal belief that many drug offenders would be better off in a rehab environment than in prison. Most western nations have a state run rehabilitation program, but the U.S. doesn't. Addiction is an illness that can be cured. Perhaps if there were a few less addicts in the jail/prison system then we would have more room for child rapists to stay....uh...for FOREVER.

Sex offenders, on the other hand, have not proven to be "rehabilitated". They offend, and offend, and offend. Getting a conviction for a sex offender is much more difficult. It's the victim's word against the defendant's, it's not concrete, and people lie. I have some personal experience with this. I was raped when I was eighteen by a friend of a friend. I went to the police. Even though we had DNA evidence that linked this person to me, and this individual had been previously convicted of a similar violent attack, it would be near impossible to get a conviction. The detectives and the district attorney were very blunt about the fact that I had a snowball's chance in hell of getting him put behind bars. I did what many victims do when faced with the facts, and I dropped the charges. My point is that if someone IS convicted of a sex crime then they probably had a cash of evidence against them and deserve to sit in jail.

I know that the legal system will not likely change any time real soon, but I do hope that this Dugard case shines some light on how flawed our legal system can be. It's sad, but I have little, if any faith in it.

A Cat and Kittens

The kittens are beginning to venture out from their home. Their mama has moved them from the goat house to a shed which contains a bunch of extra barn tin and junk. I am not so happy about the new location. I put some towels down in the little area where the mama is keeping them, so that they at least have a soft place to lay. The kittens look really good, and healthy. I handle them every day. Barrett is very fond of them too. He cries when it's time to put them back.
Lisa, their mother, becomes a bit concerned over me handling her babies. She's not so sure of me. She will come up and cry at me when it is time for me to feed her, but she is quick to hiss if I offer my hand to sniff. I doubt I will ever pet her.


Lisa is a bit skinny, but we are working on that.

This is the one and only girl, and the only kitten I have named. Meet Jessica.


This is the blond kitten. My mother may take him, or his orange brother, so I haven't named either of them. Jessica will stay on Dammit Farms.

Dog Sitting

We watched my mother in law's dog for a night this weekend. Rhoadie is an old friend of Dan and Jules, so they generally enjoy their visits. We hadn't watched Rhoadie in some time, and I had forgotten what a neurotic mess he can be. He followed me EVERYWHERE for the time he was here. I said:"Rhoadie go lay down!" about ninety times in a twenty four hour period. Rhoadie has a history of murdering birds, so we wanted to keep him from the poultry. Jason thought the best solution was to tie him to Jules, so he wouldn't get into trouble. Jules was thoroughly pissed off, but I was amused. They couldn't agree on which way to go, so they went nowhere.

Go Ahead. Throw Rocks

I have a confession to make. I break a cultural taboo on a daily basis. I still nurse my twenty sixth month old child. My initial goal was to nurse for six months, then twelve months, but it just seemed the easiest thing to do was to keep going after that. It seemed really cruel to say "Happy first birthday! No more ninny for you." Also, any parent that has weaned a child from a bottle, or breast, or pacifier will tell you that it doesn't happen without tears. I have avoided weaning mainly because that is how Barrett goes to sleep, and I get little sleep as it is. Further interrupting my six hours of fractured sleep seems a bit crazy. Barrett only really nurses at nap and bed time, so it's not like it's an all-day event.

I had not intention to "extended nurse", and I don't know why I didn't. Everything that I read says that it is a good thing. It improves IQ and social skills, and it also ensures that a picky toddler is still getting SOME nutrition. I think the reason that I didn't consider it was because I fell into the American culture's general view that nursing past twelve months=icky. Even now it is something that I don't usually bring up unless someone asks, like I should feel ashamed or something. The international average for breastfeeding is a little over age three, so I'm normal on an international level. Here in the U.S., where few women manage to nurse past six months, I am a FREAK.

I shave my armpits. I wear makeup when I can. I don't make my own granola. I eat non-organic, processed foods (see I Want Candy post). I'm a pretty normal American mama. I nurse my two year old, and it's fine.

I will add that I plan to begin weaning Barrett after Christmas. He will be two and a half at that time, and I'm hoping that he will be "ready". I looked into child-led weaning and it seems that kids wean themselves as late as age seven! I personally can't keep up with this for that long....so ...uh...yeah, I will wean him by age three AT THE LATEST.

Everybody is Working for the Weekend

It was a labor filled weekend for us. Jason borrowed a bobcat from one of his friends, and he had to do some dirt work around the house. He also had to move a bunch of random farm equipment around. All of this was accomplished with Barrett sitting in the bobcat cab with him. Nothing like sitting in a two by three box with a two year old!

I mentioned, in passing, that I wanted to grow strawberries next spring. Sometimes I think my husband doesn't listen to me, but I guess he does. I said I wanted to live in the country, and he made it happen. I said I wanted chickens, and he made it happen. I said I wanted goats, and he made it happen. I said I wanted to grow strawberries, and he is working to make it happen. He moved a giant stock tank for me and filled it with dirt. It is going to be my mini strawberry farm come spring.
Looky!

I have been researching how to grow strawberries, and it seems that everything eats them. The tank will prevent ground varmints from getting them. I will also have to put a net over them to prevent air varmints (birds) from getting to them. Did you know that strawberries are the state fruit of Oklahoma? I didn't either.

This is totally unrelated, but every time I walk past this, I chuckle. Apparently Jeepzilla, our giant Jeep Cherokee, had a hard time exiting the barn. I have figured that we have four good car batteries and about eight vehicles that must share these batteries. Jason used the old Vietnam era Jeep to yank out the Cherokee instead of playing "musical batteries". They have been sitting in our side yard, connected by a chain for a few days. ahhhh.....Viva la ruralia!

Wordless Wednesday