And the Award Goes To...Update

Am I the only one who does completely hair-brained things on a daily basis? I fancy myself a halfway intelligent person but I regularly prove that to be untrue. Keeps me humble. I will never suffer from pride issues. My idiocy prevents it.

With that said, I have to add someone to my award list because I would have if I had rubbed my two brain cells together.

Joy at El Mundo de Mamacita has been someone I've followed for quite a while. I love what she stands for and how she tries to make the most of what is given to her and blesses her family. She has a heart of gold and recently even offered to pay for her readers to see the movie "Fireproof" if they couldn't afford it. She feels that strongly about encouraging healthy marriages. And she will teach you how to eat leftovers you would rather throw out. Okay, about that last part.......

And if you haven't had your belly laugh yet today, you HAVE to go over to Tatersmama and check out her most recent post. She says some things about me that should be refuted and even shows an unflattering video of me having a hissy fit. I bet you didn't know that I am actually a flipped-out asian woman but she seems to have the video to prove it. Well, sort of...watch it and you be the judge.

A Bear Market - Part 1

If a bear is in the forest and eats everything in your car, do your dogs hear it?

I'm thinking about that this morning after reading a post at From Single to Married in which she talks about her good watch dog. No one loves their dogs more than I love mine but, the reality is, JoJo is only incensed about people breathing or moving when she's wide awake. When she's asleep, all bets are off.

I once called Jojo to give her a hug goodnight. The rest of the inmates here at the asylum had already bunked down. No Jojo. I called again. Nothing. I searched from room to room and called outside, up and down the street. MIA. I shook the over-sized bed bugs out of their sheets and mounted a posse. I didn't want to panic alone. Flip flops were employed. Car engines started. Frantic hollering commenced. No Jo. In one final moment before complete bedlam prevailed, my son, the Wild Man, threw his covers around looking for his coat. There was Jo, tucked in, eyes rolled back in her head, sound asleep, and oblivious. She lifted heavy lids and peered out just long enough to say, "HeLLO. I was warm. Could you knock it off and put the blanket back?!"

It was just this type of edge-of-your-seat, sound-the-alarm guarding that allowed a mother bear, and her two cubs, to grocery shop in our car one night while we were camping.

I don't know about you but I think most moms sleep with one ear open from the minute the doctor says, "It's a girl! Or a boy!" Dads, on the other hand, tend to only wake up in the middle of the night when you, sleep deprived and weary from nursing the baby, roll over and latch that baby on to HIS chest. If you haven't tried this, you should.

Thus, my now normal sleep state is to hear dust collecting on the furniture. And when you are camping in the black of night, in the middle of the forest, and you hear a "thunk" in your sleep, even though neither of your two watch-less dogs perk up an ear, and your husband snores on in near comatose disregard, you trust your gut.

"Grizzly.....did you hear that?"

Now, I have to tell you that Grizzly may sleep like the dead but the moment there is an opportunity to use flashlights, guns, knives, bazookas, or inter-gallactic missiles, he is awake. Immediately. And armed.

"What'd you hear?!" he instantly interrogated.

"Well, I don't know but I just thought I heard a "thunk" outside, by the car," I stated cautiously as he seared my retinas with his flashlight. Now he was ripping open the zipper on the tent.

"Robynn, stay where you are," he ordered, staring through the door flap. "There are bears in the car." It would seem relevant, at this point, for you to know the dogs still weren't barking and were, in fact, snoring right beside the kids.

Now the statement, "There are bears in the car" is not a sentence I had ever considered forming or hearing. So I had never presupposed my response. I did, however, immediately know it did not include staying where I was. I don't tend to run away from things that scare me anyway; I run toward them because being scared just makes me spitting mad. And I had children to protect. And Cheetos. And Hostess Ding Dongs.

What I wasn't prepared for was what I saw next.......

To Be Continued......

Copyright 2009

And the Award Goes To......

I am so tardy posting my awards I seem ungrateful. Truly, I am not. I am lufetargnu. That's so opposite of ungrateful it's backwards. I'm just a little uncomfortable with awards. I love giving them, especially to the kind of people I hang out with here, but posting them feels more awkward to me.

But here they are.....

I'm still so new out here and just starting my third month orbiting around in cyberspace. Shouldn't I do more time in the trenches? Shouldn't you grill me more? Put me through my paces? Wait to see if I dry up and go away? Hope I go away if I dry up?

Well, I guess not, since you're comin' around an encouraging me all the time. And I can't tell you how much it has meant to me. My life has broadened and deepened because of you all. I have a happier spring in my step and a lighter heart. I like to write...you like to read it....you like to write.....I like to read it......and I think to myself......what a wonderful world! Thank you for embracing me so warmly.

And now.....

I have received these awards from several sources. The Lemonade Stand came from Libby at NeasNuttiness, Katie at Tatersmama, Homestay Mama at Home to the World, Frugal Maven at Hip & Stingy and, quite awhile back, from someone else that, for the life of me, I can't recall. Please forgive my overcrowded, cluttered mind. I put your name somewhere in here and it's probably buried under my mental laundry. I really must neaten things up in here one of these days. That'll teach me to procrastinate.

The "I Love Your Blog" award also came from LIbby and Katie.

Now, I know lots of you have received these awards. But I may give them to you again because I can't help it if I admire your attitude and love your blog. If you have received them before, don't feel obligated to pass them on again. Just know that I couldn't help myself. I'm going to give them together because I don't follow your blog unless I love it so, it would figure they would come as a pair.

1. The Mosquitoes Buzz. I can't even remember how I found her but this is proof that less can be more. She keeps it simple and beautiful. I feel as if we know each other in real life. I go there for honesty and "ahhhh" moments.

2. The Treehouse Chef at Treehouse Kitchen. I count on her to feed us. I just made her pecan pie and would advise you not to because your thighs will never be the same. It was incredible. She is another one who makes me feel all warm and cozy. If her house were any more snuggly and yummy smelling I'd just have to buy a plane ticket and head on over for a retreat. And she could cook for me the whole time. Doesn't that just sound delightful? For me? (Okay, I hear her barring the door right now.)

3. Homestay Mama at Home to the World. I want a mama like her only she's too young to be my mama. She's wise and caring and sacrificing and filled with spiritual wisdom; the best kind. She has a gift of encouragement and uses it on me, frequently. I am better for knowing her. MANY are better for knowing her.

4. Katie at Tatersmama. This woman is incredibly giving, loving, funny, straight-up, deep, and selfless. She is a true "Velveteen Rabbit" and has been made real by having a great deal of her fur rubbed off by life. I am also incredulous for her that she cannot get Crisco, pecans, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and Dr. Pepper in the Land Down Under. They should fix all of this just for her. Australia imported her from California. You would think they would treat her better for all she does there. Katie, I think about coming to visit you and when I do, I always pack my suitcases with these items and have imaginary, but satisfying, fights with Customs.

5. Libby at Neas Nuttiness. Libby was the first to promote me to her friends and send them over when I hardly knew what a "Follower" was. She put up a link to me and made me sound like the next in line for a Pulitzer. She is witty, warm, and always leaves funny or encouraging comments. And she's faithful to her friends out here.......even blogs when she's all drugged up after surgery. YOU go over to her place and see if YOU can make sense of the post about all the plastic pooches. It's okay, Libby. Go back to sleep.

6. Reginia at Tetertots. Reg and I have been hangin' out together for several years. We have the same fire in our bellies. (Her belly is a lot flatter and cuter than mine, though.) We both like to see justice done and dislike bullies. But she's so much sweeter in the way she goes about achieving this. She has finesse. And graciousness. She has also opened her heart and home to a lovely teenage girl and has incorporated her as her own. She wouldn't think that's a big deal. That's how she rolls.

7. Neabear Is anyone sweeter than Linnea? She always leaves the nicest comments and has so much fun with all her buddies. She participates in everything and has a great time with all she does. Her photos make you feel like you're right in her home. I have no doubt her friends and family are blessed by her on a regular basis. And she plays the organ. Who can do THAT anymore?

7a. Frugal Maven at Hip & Stingy. You will love her. She's short (the posts, not her, I mean, I don't really know but short is good, and tall is good, too.....this is irrelevant....I will edit it.....probably not....unlike her I do not often embrace brevity) and to the point, she is just filled with variety. I still haven't embraced the "making your own laundry detergent" thing but I am in awe that she has and does. Lots of good tips and she lives in an old church. Go LOOK!

7b. Linda at Another Piece of the Pie. Linda makes me laugh with her wry humor and practical view of the world. I mean, she bought her husband a toilet seat for Valentine's Day. Need I say more? She's a good cook and shares her recipes, we both drink raw milk, and we homeschool our kids. And both our husbands are in love with their espresso machines. We have "grounds" for a friendship.

7c. Ladybird World Mother. She comes to us from England and if her wit got any sharper and more pointed it would never be allowed on the flight over here. Again, can't remember how I found her but I'm glad I did. She gives me lots of "giggles," as she calls them, and keeps me smiling with her British vernacular. She's an incredibly keen observer of life and mines it to great effect.

7d. Becky at Becky and Her Babies. This woman posts some of the funniest jokes I have ever read, and that's saying something in cyberspace. I get the kids running in here to find out why I am laughing my posterior off. Most of the time I can tell them. She's also a great friend to Libby and I always admire great friends.

7e. High Desert Diva. Oh my. She is my required daily dose of beauty and inspiration. As an interior designer, her colors are vibrant and inspiring. She also passes along beautiful sayings or prose. Very regenerative for the spirit. Haven't gone a day without her since I found her. And she always has interesting "asides" or tidbits. A little something for everyone. She doesn't know it yet so, don't mention it, but when I go through Oregon this summer, I'll be staying with her for a few days. Let the preparations begin.

7f. Gizzards & Calf Fries. She keeps me entertained in pictures and witty brevity. Again, nothing I can achieve but, that's the beauty of it. I love dropping in everyday to see mud and horses and holes in the barn roof. She's a busy gal but always takes the time to post a comment and frequently cracks me up. I follow her around just to read her comments on other posts.

7g. NaomiG at Diaries of the Happy Sanitarium. This is my little family. I mean, they don't REALLY belong to me. I just met them out here. But she is such a good mama and does fun things with the kiddos and well, if I had a kid sister, she would be it. And I would be the auntie who spoiled the girls and sent them home rotten. Just love her down home goodness and always feel better for having dropped by.

7h. Life on a Southern Farm. Just down-home goodness. Simple. Warm. Feel-good photos of all her little farm friends. Miracle Eve the goat who is 2/3rds Farmer John Ham. Sweet fun. Faithful commenter and encourager.

7i. From Single to Married A gentle and tender look at just starting out and planning a family. She likes to ask her readers questions and have them participate. And she even sends private, encouraging emails. But she isn't afraid to talk about those really inconvenient issues of life...like IBS...and she knows where all the best toilets are.

7j. A Cowboy's Wife. She's been out of commission for awhile but I hope she's back at it soon. The woman can write. And she can tell it like it is. And if you don't like it, well, you can get over it. Boy, I LOVE that. She's as real as they come and she hasn't only had a hard row to hoe, she hasn't even had a hoe a lot of the times. I think she may have done a lot of plowing with her bare hands.

8. And finally, On a Quirky Quest with Lady Fi. She is a British ex-pat who is now living happily in Sweden with her husband. I love her for her cooking......(shhhhh, yeah RIGHT)....especially the yogurt with ketchup she had us all try for Valentine's Day. She's a great writer, fun to follow, and a constant source of humor and encouragement.

So, there you have it. I stuck to the rules of only nominating eight. You can see that by the numbers.

Now, for all you award winners who HAVEN'T already done this, here are the rules:

1. Put the logo on your blog or post. 2. Nominate at least 8 blogs which show great attitude and/or gratitude. 3. Link to your nominees within your post. 4. Let them know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog. 5. Share the love and link to this post and to the person from whom you received your award.

Happy Valentine's Day My Friends

Love makes your soul crawl out from its hiding place. ~Zora Neale Hurston

The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved - loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves. ~Victor Hugo

A Valentine for You.......

To all my dear friends who have shown me much kindness and love. I pray you receive as many blessings as you have extended. If you do, I know you'll have a rich and lovely Valentine's Day.

1 Corinthians 13:13 "And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of these is love."

Turning 50

Hey there......come here often?

Like me? Tolerate me? I'm like a car wreck and you just can't help looking?

Would you help me hit 50 followers today? I'm trying to get to 75 and when I do I'm rockin' a fun contest. Maybe you'll be the winner. Send your friends over. I'll be giving away two $50.00 gift cards to Amazon.com and I'll choose from among the followers. Help me help you. Please let me know you're out there and click on the button right above the group of pictures. Just takes a sec! I already love you. Let's make it official.

The Other Woman

My husband is in love. I'm not sure I stand a chance.

We've been down this road before....with Debbie.

Now it's Sylvia.

He was busted about Debbie by my daughter, when she was seven. She had overheard him talking about her, asking for her, even linking her name with Christmas. She told me she wanted to "out" him. I gave her the green light. What can I say? I'm a terrible mother. We planned it all out. My three-year-old son wanted in. We didn't think he could hang on to the information but he did. We thought we would hit husband/daddy while he was vulnerable. Right after church. We all tucked in to the minivan and, with the kids firmly buckled in the backseat, we heard a tremulous little voice.

"Daddy?" daughter said.

"Yes honey?" he replied, smoothly.

"I found out you have....a....a.....girlfriend." This was killing me. You could hear the emotion in her voice. Should I let this go on?

"I DO?" He tried to sound surprised. Cool. Cool as a cucumber.

"Yes," she quavered. "And I know her name."

"You DO?" Oh, he's just filled with snappy rejoinders under pressure.

"Yes, I do." She was hitting her stride and spoke with feeling, but also resolve. "Her name is Debbie. "Little" Debbie!

Hysterical laughter from the junior sector, which included me. The cad. Even he cracked up.

He passed this horrifying addiction on to our son who, to this day, cannot pass a Little Debbie Snack Cake without pining and begging for her plastic-texture-artery-hardening goodness. At least Grizzly Adams got over his attraction when he matured, last year. But only because she was replaced in his affections by someone more worldly, mature, exotic: Sylvia.

You think I'm going to tell you something cutesy again like he's in love with his car (though there is undying passion between him and the Jeep), or dog, or lawnmower. Huh. I wish he was in love with that lawnmower. How I long for true romance to spring up between them. Oh no. Too Terra Firma for Romeo, too mundane.

Sylvia is the new woman. She inspires him. He buys her presents. Well, truth be told he actually makes ME buy her presents that he has carefully thought out. Flavorful presents. He pets her, coddles her, attends to her every hygienic need. When he travels he longs for her. He has even been known to sneak her into hotel rooms. And to think I bankrolled this passion for our 20th anniversary. I gave him money I'd been squirrelling away for a couple of years. Here's what he did with it:

And "Rancilio" is just her last name. The company actually gives the different "models" (need I say more?) these special names.

Hey, at least she makes my coffee, too. Oh my gosh! Did I just say coffee? That's a bad word that must never be uttered in Sylvia's presence. She does NOT make coffee. Ever. She makes ESPRESSO. Her espressos can facilitate an Americano which, to the untrained palate, might TASTE like coffee. Oh sure. Just like Gallo Box Wine can taste like Dom Perignon.

She also makes cappucinos, macchiatos, and la-tee-dahs, as Grizzly calls them. He doesn't really drink those. He's an espresso/Americano man. Puts hair on your chest. And your back.

He shopped very carefully for her.....months, in fact, and settled on her because he thought she was a good value while providing extremely high-quality performance and endurance. And her parts are replaceable if they go bad. He still wonders why he didn't look for these features when choosing a wife.

But I must say she pulls her weight. Grizzly was a two-Starbucks a day man, and I dropped in there a couple of times a week. Do you know how that adds up? Well, of course you do. Most of us could have vacation homes and facelifts if it wasn't for Starbucks. Six months into this relationship Sylvia paid for herself and started making us money. So, as sister-wives go, I really can't complain. And there is something to be said for that concept. Solomon might have been on to something. Can you imagine all the writing I could get done with someone else to run the errands and clean the house? Heck, every Christmas when he asks me what I want I always request a wife. I guess Sylvia's it. She's kind of square and cold, with a hard edge to her, but her soul is stainless.

As long as she doesn't expect the same of me, we'll get along.

Life on the Farm Ain't Kinda Laid Back

Well, life on the farm is kinda laid back,

Ain't much an ol' country boy like me can't hack,

It's early to rise, early in the sack,

Thank God I'm a country boy.

Well, a simple kinda life never did me no harm,

A raisin' me a family and working on the farm,

My days are all filled with an easy country charm,

Thank God I'm a country boy.

When John Denver penned these now famous words to his song "Country Boy" he had, apparently, never spent time out at my mother's place.

She and my step-father live in the country. They moved there when they married. I was nineteen and on my own for years. This was their exclusive hideaway. They intended it to be just the two of them and a variety of animals for food and companionship. And they achieved their goal. It just wasn't exactly from the pages of "Country Living" magazine.

I started thinking about it when I saw two dead opossums on the road this morning. 'Possums and city life don't mix well but two is a lot in one day. I wondered if they were escaping my mom's place.

Critters come and critters go and my mother has never been incredibly sentimental about separation. In the fifteen years I lived at home we moved fourteen times. Animals came and went as the wind blew. If they were a problem, they were gone. If we couldn't have them at the next place, they moved on and so did we. She was well suited for the life-and-death decision making that sometimes comes with country life.

It served her well.......I guess.

One country-charming, pastoral day, she awoke to find a coyote had broken in to the hen house. Feathers and squawking chickens were fluttering everywhere. One old girl had gotten the worst of it and the outlook was decidedly Colonel Sanders, if you know what I mean. Mom grabbed her up and, with the expertise of a washer woman, wrung her neck and dispatched her to that big frying pan in the sky. Round One.

Several hours later one of the ducks was looking decidedly dejected. She moped and laid and leaned. Mom was resolved that the suffering could not continue and the most likely issue was an impacted egg. With shovel in hand, her make-shift guillotine forever separated Ducky's mind from her problem, so to speak. My mother proceeded to perform an autopsy. Yep. Egg impaction. Round Two.

As the evening wore on, she and my step-dad turned in for the night. They were awoken by a beastly ruckus in the backyard. The dogs had cornered a 'possum and had gone completely hoodlum with it, bullying it and tossing it to and fro. By the time my mother showed up, well, the grim reaper even paid attention and started taking notes. She felt a .22 would make the quickest work of it but it was the middle of the night and that might alarm the neighbors. She surveyed the yard for options and landed on it: a barbeque skewer. I'll spare you the details but suffice it to say, chicken-neck-wringing and duck-head-detachment are practically children's bedtime stories in comparison. At least the poor thing was long gone when she went back to bed and left it for the dogs. Round three.

All I have to say is this: Whenever I'm not feeling well, I steer far clear of my mother's place. I'd advise you to do the same.

Copyright 2009