To Whom It May Concern:

• I am still alive. Although I do take my life into my own hands every time I walk through the laundry room, which we will now refer to as 'Packed Boxes Central'. Packed Boxes Central is housing many, Many, MANY boxes of stuff. Floor to ceiling (10 ft. ceiling, mind you)! Remember, I live in the house where the garage (where one might normally store things such as packed boxes) is not really a garage, it's the shop. And according to my husband, Sacred Ground that simply cannot be disgraced by boxes cluttering up the work space of a genius....JUST KIDDING, HONEY! I know, I know, you have work to do...something about making money to feed and house the family...blah, blah, blah...whatever....
  

• Speaking of the place formally known as the laundry room...Monday is Big Laundry day here at the farmgirl home, now, don't think I don't do laundry any other days, because I DO!! But, seeings how Sunday is a day of rest and all, and Saturday I'm just not in the mood, come Monday morning it's a pretty big task. However, IF my little punks would follow some sort of dirty laundry code we could cut the work down quite a bit. Methinks it is time once again for a "What qualifies as dirty laundry?- -Come to Jesus discussion" with the rugrats. Tell me, Peeps...would that cover FHE tonight?

• You know the battle with food/treats? Umm, ya, I'm losing!! Seriously! Lately, food/treats, they are my master. It is so not a good thing...gonna work on that this week.

• Allergy season: not a fan. Years ago I was never bothered by allergies. Now? VERY BOTHERED. What's up with that??

• This whole moving thing...let's chat, shall we? We, meaning the farmgirl fam, are very excited. The kids are thrilled to be moving so close to Grandma and Grandpa and lots of cousins, as are Mike and I. We are excited to start a new chapter, roll the dice and see what happens. I think it's going to be good, no, I think it's going to be great! BUT, I am sad to leave so many friends and good people. I have told everyone I am not really discussing this until at least the second week of May...can't spend all my days all weepy and sniffily, now, can I? Well, not due to moving anyway--allergies are doing a fine job with that already. So, we aren't going any further down that road at this juncture.

• This whole packing thing? Let me just say this: when you move into a house with a just a 3 year old and a 1 year old and you are still pretty young and college-like, you don't have a whole lotta stuff. BUT, when you move out of that same house eleven and a half years later and you are now a family of seven....well, that, my friends, is a whole 'nother story! My, ohhhh, my!!!! There's lots of work for me to do.

• Since my time left here is beginning to feel like it may dwindle away before I realize it's gone, I have decided to try to take advantage of every park day, every running day, every opportunity to spend time with the people I have grown to love in a place I thought I never would. I was about 46 hours post baby delivery when we left Montana and started our trek to the St. G, it was the end of May when I arrived here, that summer highs reached (and stayed) in the 120* range--purty darn toasty for a little Idaho farmgirl--, it was hot and barren, I didn't know a single soul, I was lonely and overwhelmed. Since then I have grown to love the red dirt. I love my view from my front window: lava fields, red mountains, Pine Valley Mountain in the distance. It IS beautiful.

• Speaking of red dirt...I think it will be kind of a sad day when, some day in the future, we cycle through the last of the red dirt stained socks and they no longer are part of my laundry ritual.

• There ya be, Peeps...all the randomness from my brain to your computer screen.

• Peace Out. :o)
  

I'm afraid I've been thinking-

a dangerous pass time, I know.....

So, in contemplating the massive project that packing my house will be, I have been assessing all our "stuff". I'm really not a hoarder. Frankly, I don't have enough storage in this house to be much of a hoarder, and my mad cleaning/organsizing skilz just don't jive with it.

However...

I do have one area of my life that is pretty unorgansized and very messy.
And it's an area I am in and out of every.single.day.

My recipes.
Mike calls it my "filing system".
Be sure to use air quotes when you say that.
Oh, and roll your eyes while your at it, too.

Here's the deal:
Besides all my regular recipe books, I was given a recipe collection book at one of my bridal showers, everyone there contributed. I love it.
(my local besties should know that my beloved breadstick recipe is actually from
Anneke---one of my oldie moldie school day chums. Hi, Anneke!!)
I don't use all of the recipes all the time, but it's where the magic started.
So, it is also where all of the recipes I have collected over the nearly 17 years I have been married are residing.
There are A LOT of them. A LOT.
And many of them have sentimental value, actually most do....the paper they are written on, the handwriting that belongs to the friend who wrote it down for me, when I started making a particular recipe....the list goes on. Let's just say I cook/bake from the heart.

The dilemma:
I'm the only one who can find anything in the "filing system"....
I know exactly what color the scrap of paper is, whats been spilled or sprinkled on it, what category it's under....plus, no one else shows "the system" the proper respect--all the pages are falling out, People! You can't just willy nilly pick it up and start leafing through! No! It's a delicate balance between me and my "filing system". We know each other very well, been through some tough times together, created some good stuff.

What I am saying is this--there's no way I could part with my beloved "filing system", it will most likely need to be buried with me.
But, what I am considering is making it a little more accessible to others. I'm speaking mostly of my family (the kiddos specifically), but I was wondering if I should create another blog--

farmgirl food

perhaps, and put them all there.

Couple things:
First of all, I have never professed to be an amazing gourmet chef--but I can hold my own in the kitchen. I'm more of just a plain old good food kinda cook.
Secondly, we all know that I can't do anything without a whole lotta rambling, so I'm thinking I'll give the story behind the recipe and all that good stuff.
And lastly, we all know it will be mostly treats. Nuthin' wrong with treats!

So.....whatchathink?

And before Sarah reads this
and comes over here
to beat some sense into
me, telling me to focus on
packing and not
take on any more projects!...
(she told me today that
I was crazy to
consider getting strawberry
jam made before the move)....
I'm talking about doing this once I am
settling in my new abode.
:o)

Job Security.

The very best form of job security, that I know of, as a mother, is to get sick for a few days.
I'm not talking about feeling a bit under the weather,
I'm talking about in bed for 36 hours straight.
I had a little run in with strep throat...I'm feeling VERY confident that my job is secure.

And, by the by, can we talk for a moment about strep?
First of all let's just say---IT STINKS!
I'm not a regular strep getter.
I have only had it twice in my whole live long life--once three years ago and this week.
--kinda felt something coming on Saturday night, little worse Sunday morning, pretty darn crummy by Sunday night, like a truck hit me and parked on my throat Monday morning (insert start of antibiotics here-thank you!) Horrible all day Monday, little better Tuesday, feeling good today--
That's plenty for me, thankyouverymuch.

Now, back to my job...
I don't mean to say that I am completely indispensable,
but, it appears that I am completely indispensable.
Mike and the kids function without me much better when they have a little warning, like when I go away for my sister weekend.
But, catch them on the unawares and it's tough on the troops.

Monday was the day that didn't exist for me--
--I was pretty miserable--
it was also the last day of spring break for the kids.
Mike was working so the kids fended for themselves.
Adam was assigned dishes for the day instead of just his normal 'dinner dishes duty'.
When he came to tell me goodnight on Monday he said to me,
"Wow, Mom. You must do a lot of dishes during the day."
Yes, Dear, I certainly do.

Two things you should know: #1 we are dishwasherless at the moment-so, yes, lot's of dishes. #2 Mike went first thing Monday morning and purchased paper products to use while I was down. So, yes, still lot's of dishes even just with the dishes to make the meals....tell me about it!

Yesterday I was still feeling under the weather, but good enough to get 'must do' things done,
like, the laundry (lest I be buried alive by it today).
So, I would climb out of bed, switch the laundry, fold a little, then go lay down again.
A slow process but, I got it done.
But that was about it.

When Adam got home from school (he's wave 1 on the return) he scavenged around for a bit and then asked if he could make a treat.
Sure, I said. Just clean up the mess.
While his cookies were baking he came back to see me and said,
"Wow, Mom. You sure do make a lot of treats for us."
Yes, Dear, I certainly do.

Elsie must of come and given me a gazillion hugs and asked every time if I was feeling better yet. Audrey assured me numerous times before she went to school that she would handle everything when she got home, that I should just take it easy. And Mike, well, I think it really stresses him out to have me not available.

So, after much rambling and nonsense the moral of the story is...
If you really want to feel appreciated and loved,
--don't wait for Mother's Day--
just get strep and you, too, can know how very secure your job is.
Because, let's face it....
The only people who want our jobs is us.
Yes, us...ladies crazy enough to birth all these babies and then spend the rest of every waking moment of our lives taking care of the rugrats, a house and that bigger kid-version guy we fell madly in love with and married.
Yep, that's the life I chose....
And I love it.
:0)

plus, if you have a really
nice friend that finds out
you are sick
she'll make you
homemade chicken noodle soup
....just sayin'

David Bowie said it best....

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
Turn and face the strange
ch-ch-changes.

There.
Now that we have some background music going for us,
let's chat.

Changes.
Big ones.

I have had this quote for years and years
-honestly I don't remember where I got it,
but I love it:

When you come to the edge of all the light you have known,
and are about to step out into darkness,
Faith is knowing one of two things will happen;
there will be something to stand on,
or you will be taught to fly.

Well, my friends, I'm not exactly stepping into darkness.
I know there will be something to stand on....
but,
I'm hoping this little farmgirl fam will spread their wings and soar.

Once upon a blog post,
a couple summers back,
I had this to say at the end of my Idaho visit:

What can I say?
I just love this place.
It is what makes me...Me.
This place, and all the people there, are what made me Farmgirl.
(thank you Robyn for recognizing it)
And I could not be more grateful.
~
Going home is imperative.
Making sure my children's roots run all the way back to this Idaho farmland is one of the most important things I will ever do.

Well, one of the most important things
I will ever do is going to be a whole lot easier
come the beginning of June....
here goes....
We are leaving the St. G.
We are moving back to that Idaho farmland.

Me and Mikey and the punks are heading north.
To a house just up the road from my parents.
It's a mixed bag of emotions...
but, mostly it's nice to know that
we are doing just exactly what we should be.
We are blessed and life is good.
:o)

And by the by,
I'm pretty sure
that I am going
to need to increase
my fluid intake
dramatically over the
next 2+ months...
Many a tear was shed
just writing this
silly little post.
:'(

I'm pooped....

seriously,
who knew it could be so exhausting just thinking about all the things I need to do?
Because, I certainly haven't accomplished much this week.
So, ya, apparently my thought process is so profound that it can actually wear me right out.
Amazing.
On the bright side: the boomerang SEP week is coming to a close- this go 'round hasn't bugged me so much, it's just weird to have the wee ones home in the very middle of the day and only one more day until the Lake to Lake relay race, I really have not done any hard core training for this...oh, who am I kidding? When do I ever do any hard core training for anything???
.....Anyhoo, time for me to shuffle off to Buffalo and see if I can't get a kid or two to cooperate with me and hit the hay without much of a fight so this tired old lady they call mother can go to bed early tonight.
Peace Out.
:)

Another Chapter...

...you know that parenting book Mike and I have been working on?
Well, I think I may have completed the chapter on bedtime.

Here's the story:
Wednesday nights I fly completely solo. Mike, Adam and Audrey are all at mutual (let's face it--it's not like Grant wants anybody but me to put him to bed and he's the tough one, so it's more a night of some what calm and quiet without the big, loud people around). Usually I run a pretty tight ship. Tonight I got Grant to bed quite smoothly, so smoothly in fact that I decided to be the nice mom and let the girls stay up and watch a little TV--with the understanding that when it was time for bed it was TIME FOR BED, no milking it.
After watching a little boob tube together I sent them on their way and they went right into bed. Nicely done, farmgirl mothering, nicely done.
Until 2 minutes later when Elsie was hungry, and 2 minutes after that when she was thirsty, and 2 minutes after that when she needed to tell me one last thing, and 2 minutes after that when her sister ratted her out before she even got to the door of the bedroom--you get the picture. In the midst of all of this 'night time negotiating' Mike came home, we were sitting on the bed visiting when in comes the little lady herself...she needed to tell me that her tooth (that is barely loose) was really hurting her.
I told her with all the sincerity and love a mother can that I was terribly sorry to hear about her sore tooth and that I could think of two options that we could do about it--she would get to choose which one she preferred.
1)She could go back to bed, lay down, go to sleep and forget about it.
or
2)I would have her father rip the tooth right out of her head on the count of three.
One...
Two....
and that's the last we saw of our darling Elsie for the evening.

Too much???

Project Queen.

Now, before we begin....a little disclaimer.
Okay, actually a couple of disclaimers.
#1) I am a lot of things. I would not say that I am particularly crafty or projecty--I am sure that I am not seamstressy. So, be kind.
#2) At this point in the life of my beloved -and very old- camera (whose life with me began after a full and useful life as a work camera for Mike) the screen where I used to be able view not only the pictures already taken, but also the current picture being taken has died completely. Therefore, I am shooting blind. So, again I say to you, be kind.
Alrighty then, on we go.

So, I was in need (and by saying need I really mean want) of a few changes around the old homestead. Being the Chatty Cathy that I am, I was talking to my good buddie Christy about my aspirations. Now, here's the thing about Christy--she is very projecty and an amazing seamstress. She was actually working on a project of her own and, much to my delight, stumbled across some very lovely fabric that she donated to the cause and voila project numero uno was under way....

I call this project: Operation Spruce Up Family Room.
Here we have my couch and table pre-sprucing....


And, here we have my couch and table post sprucing--

Cute, huh? I'm not completely in love with the color of the table, but it was the closest thing to blue that I could rummage up from the garage.

And...TaDa!! Look at that fancy sewing work! Okay, really don't look too closely.... I recovered the pillows that were already there and then dug up some random pillows floating around the house and recovered them as well (if one of my girls asks where her round flower pillow with the giant tear in it is--YOU DON'T KNOW). And then I remembered I had a gift certificate to Ross and found some new throws for $4 a piece, not too shabby.

So, woohoo, project one done and done. Yes, it was slightly intimidating but not nearly as much work as project numero dos.

I like to call this project: Revamp Kitchen Table.
A word or two about this table--it was given to us several years ago by Mike's parents when they bought a new one. This table has been around a Loonngg time. It is a Really nice, heavy duty piece of furniture (which it needed to be to have survived Mike and his brothers). It is in fact, circa 1983--hence the oak and black paint flecked look. I knew revamping this beast would be a lot of work. What I didn't know was really, really, really how much work it would be.
Although I was nearly certain I was going to die at some point of the sanding, wiping, painting, waiting, sanding, wiping, painting, waiting, sanding, glazing, wiping, wiping, spraying, waiting process.... I do love the finished product.

Thank Goodness we used Mike's paint sprayer...or, seriously, I really would have died under this table. (robyn can verify our near death experience)

Sadly, with my pathetic camera you really can't see how fantastic it looks. You will just have to take my word for it...or come on over and see for yourself.

I'll make cookies for the occasion.
:o)

I do have one more project on the radar,
but I am really being a chicken about it.
It involves a lot of sewing.
And, honestly,
at this point I am hoping
it will also involve my mother...
....Hi, Mom! Wanna help?
Are you looking for a project?
Maybe if I visit over spring break....???

SEP Week (s)

Today marks the beginning of SEP week--
or more appropriately for me--
weekS.
That's right, because when you have multiple children in multiple schools it means that you get to enjoy multiple weeks of half-day school.
Kids are coming and going all the live long day...for weeks on end!
To quote a favorite movie, "lame, lame, lame, lame, LAME!"
I don't know for sure what SEP stands for, but in my mind it is
Stupid Educational Procedure.

Come on! Do we really need an entire week to accomplish this? Really?

Anyhoo, that's the rant for today.

I'm a bit on the grumpy side,
couldcha tell?

Thanks Peeps!

I knew I could count on you!
You all make me feel a little less freaky and a lot more normal....
unless, of course, we are all just a whole bunch of freaks.
Ehh, well--as long as we are in it together, right?
So, how's about I lay a really weird one on you...?
If I do, then you all should be feeling the urge to participate
and give me a crazy quirk in the comments.
(have i ever mentioned how much i just love the comment part of a blog?
no? well, me do)
All right? Here we go.

Tomorrow is February 7th.
It's a very special day.
It's the day before my big day.
Every year I clear the calendar on February 7th.
Wanna know why??
Because it is the day I give myself the very best present ever...
an entire day of cleaning.
I LOVE IT!
So, tomorrow think of me in all my quirkiness just cleaning my little heart out
here at the homestead.

I'll be a happy girl.
:o)

Random thoughts, by farmgirl.

Oh, Hi!
So, how's it going?
I'm still here.
Still here with all my random thoughts.
How's about we put some of the random thoughts down for ya?
Good?
Great!
Here we go.

Here's something.
Someone is having a birthday, real soon.
And since this certain someone is turning 36 she is beginning to think that she may need to stop thinking of herself as "just starting out in the thirties, you know early thirties". It may be time to set that one free and embrace the "over half way done with the thirties". Here's the thing, I'm totally good with it. Couldn't be happier to be 36. It just seems weird sometimes. Ya know what I mean, Vern?
And here's something else, the older I get the crazier I am becoming.
Is anyone else frightened by that statement?
Well, you should be.
Want a few examples?
Okay.
-I am little old lady, grandma cold. All. the. time. We are talking 3-4 layers of clothing, every day. My grandparents had this wall heater in their house and they would keep it blazing hot--oh, how I wish I could time travel back and move in.
-I have acquired some bizarre sleeping issues. I have to go to bed with my 'Cindy Lou Hoo' super soft and comfy socks on (cold feet), but I must take them off before I completely fall to sleep. Not to mention all the weird light (street light, cell phone light, clock light, smoke alarm light-just to name a few) issues I have.
-Here's a really crazy one. I am beyond a control freak when it comes to the setting on the thermostat. (Let's just set one thing straight right now. I have some serious control freakness inside me, which plays a big part in the whole Crazy Lady thing.) Anyhoo, about the thermostat...while, yes, I am freezing all my waking hours, I am a little heater once I fall to sleep at night. I know! I'm weird. So, at night we turn the thermostat down for comfortable sleeping temperatures. Makes sense, right? BUT, I need to be the one to turn it up. Do Not turn it up before I am up and at 'em. Do Not turn it up while I am in the shower. And for the love! Never turn it up while I am out running.
-I CANNOT stand to have cupboard doors open, newspapers open, pictures not square on the wall, rugs not straight on the floor, clothes folded sloppy, beds made sloppy--you get the idea.

Okay, I believe that's enough to make my point. I am getting weirder all the time. Really, you should all wish me luck as I move on into this next year of life. Or, more appropriately, you should send your well wishes to my family. They get the crazy full time.

The other night I was saying something to Mike and made a comment about how I am turning into a freak, that I didn't used to be so crazy. I think I was some how trying to apologize for the loss of the unfreak-like girl he married many moons ago, saying that it's kind of unfortunate for him that he is now stuck with the freak version of his lovely bride.

He looked at me, smiled and assured me of two things:
First of all that he would not classify me as a freak, that he would use the term 'quirky', that I have some 'quirks'.
And secondly, that I have always been 'quirky'.
Thanks, Dear.
:o)