Tomorrow is the __(insert # here;)__ Annual Willow Creek CP Church Bazaar. As always we will be serving chili or vegetable soup, chicken or ham sandwich (on white or wheat), drinks and dessert for $6 beginning at 11:00, ending around 6:00. The doors will open at 8:00, and folks, it would be really nice if you could wait until 8:00...
I've been a knitting fool so that's my contribution this year. Last night I decided (no time like NOW) I better 'block' this toddler scarf I knitted about six weeks ago. It curls real bad, but is soooo cute and has a matching hat. The Yarn Studio gal told me what to do, using damp towels, etc. I dug out the scarf, got a towel and put it down on the counter. I got it wet and spread out the scarf, covering it back up with the damp towel. Went to bed.
Sweet little Josie must really, really like this cute little scarf because right after I finished knitting it, she dug it out (not kidding) of a box and had it in the living room...creating one snag, which I fixed. Some time early this morning (Jay said it was still in place when he left for work) I guess she wanted to try it on again and she got the towel and the scarf off the counter and made two VERY large snags in the scarf. I wanted to hurt the sweet feline, but I did not. I cannot tell you how long that simple-looking scarf took because of the tiny size of the yarn. Ahh! I am going to try to repair the snags.
I smoothed the scarf out between the damp towel and put it in my truck. SURELY, she will not find that scarf in there. Sweet little kitty.
So come on out to the Community Center in Martinsville tomorrow, eat lunch or supper and shop around. You may or may not see that cute little scarf...because it may be wrapped around my sweet Josie's neck.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Snap...I should've listened.
Last Friday, I took the afternoon off work to help my brother and dad with the farming. I enjoy helping out every now and then. It's fun for me because it's not how I earn my living. I take it seriously because it is important, but there isn't a whole lot of pressure on me...most of the time.
I started my afternoon out by taking a load of beans to town in the blue grain truck. I had never driven to the grain elevator in town though. The Quackdaddy gave me one piece of advice, and he said it two separate times, "When you get to the hill by the railroad tracks, shift down into second, you cannot get up the hill in third." Okay, simple enough.
And so Lane, Hank the Tank and I head to town in the blue grain truck. We make the first go-round without incident. I did a little bit of grinding at the four-way stop (and wouldn't you know the mayor was watching me:) and nearly got off the scales at the elevator (which isn't major, I would've just had to back up and re-aligned myself), but all in all, it went well. I returned to the field feeling pretty good about things so far.
I like to get really good at one thing before moving onto something else. I was pretty comfortable driving Old Blue, and that is what I'd prefer to stick with. On Columbus Day when I helped out a little, my brother tried to get me to drive the combine and I refused. No thank you...I'm not about to screw up something like that. I got away with it until last Friday.
As soon as I returned from my first trip, my brother told me he needed to meet some guy about a piece of equipment, I would have to run the combine. Uhh, no, I don't think so. Oh, yes, you can do it; Sherri (his wife) can do it. Peer pressure. Snap. All right, I told him, but if you show me and I'm not comfortable, I'm not doing it. End of story. We hop on the combine.
"It's just like mowing your yard," he says. And basically that is a true statement, only I cannot mow my yard because I cannot operate that silly zero-turn mower, but I knew what he meant. Back and forth, up and down the rows. In a sense, you are 'mowing' it down. I didn't even have to worry about lining up the head in the corn rows, beans are easier. He shows me this and that and says, "I'll be back in about 30 minutes. Oh, you shouldn't get full, but if you do, just dump it." Okay, yeah...
So off he goes and there I go. My brother's combine is not one of the fancier machines, but it still has a lot of gadgets, buttons and lights. I began to wonder...how will I know if the hopper is full? I text Jay. "Will a light or buzzer come on when I'm full?" "No." And that was that. So I'm kind of starting to panic a little. I keep looking in my side mirrors. Nothing is spewing out over the edge...so far so good. I keep going.
Pretty soon Lane puts Hank in the grain truck and motions that he wants to ride with me. He gets in and sits down and I throw out the question, "How do I know if I'm full?" My nine-year-old is pretty cute and sometimes a stinker, but he looks at me like I'm an idiot, points to the back glass and says, "You look out the window." Lo and behold, there was a window right behind me with a perfect view of the hopper. The next look was his bright, wide eyes..."Mom, we're full." Alrighty then.
I stop. I have no idea how to turn on the auger and I'm pretty sure I don't want to even try it. I decide it has been close to 30 minutes and I shut everything down. We get out and wait a few minutes, Mark shows up and all is well. He points me to his truck and the grain wagon and says, "Take that to the elevator." (Oh, you are kidding me. Why can't I just stick with the blue truck?!)
You would think one might be more comfortable driving a truck similar to their own and pulling a little wagon than driving an old, hard-to-shift grain truck...nope. We made it there and back without major incident, but it was a slow process. The max speed with the wagon was about 20 mph for me because I didn't like the shaking. We return and I vow not to make that trip again. Lane agrees. I tell him to hurry up, get Hank and get in Old Blue before Mark changes his mind...and we head back to town.
I'm finally back in my comfort zone. My dog is resting comfortably on my lap and my little man is next to me practicing his new-found talent: the snap. As soon as we got into the city limits, a PT cruiser from out of state got behind me. I was hoping they would just pass me, but that didn't happen.
By the time we approach the railroad tracks, there are six cars piled up behind me and that PT cruiser is clinging to my backend. To shift down into second, you have to just about stop. No joke. I think it needs to be coasting along at about 5mph. I'm looking at that line of cars thinking, I can't stop, they'll rear-end me...and so I ignored the wise words of the Quackdaddy and told Lane to hang on, we were going to try the hill in third. (Like I'm some stunt driver in a movie or something.) And we go...until we go no more.
Ahhh, SNAP. Halfway up that hill, we died. Now, there's a pit-in-the-gut feeling. I looked in my mirror and thought, if I try to do anything, I'm going to start a chain reaction of front-to-back damage on six cars starting with the PT Cruiser RIGHT ON MY REAR END. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at things, some friends of mine happened to be unloading groceries at that very moment (they live on that hill), they turned to look at me and I heard the mom say "It's Sarah!" I yell out to one of the older boys to wave the cars around me and he does. Thankfully, they passed without collision, I started Old Blue up and away we went.
But first I looked at Lane and said, "Guess I should've listened to Grandpa." I suppose you're never too old to listen to your parents, huh?
As a sidenote to this story, the Quackdaddy bought Old Blue from a family member after "John" died. I kid you not, I could hear his laugh when I stopped dead on that hill. If you knew "John," you know the laugh I'm talking about...
I started my afternoon out by taking a load of beans to town in the blue grain truck. I had never driven to the grain elevator in town though. The Quackdaddy gave me one piece of advice, and he said it two separate times, "When you get to the hill by the railroad tracks, shift down into second, you cannot get up the hill in third." Okay, simple enough.
And so Lane, Hank the Tank and I head to town in the blue grain truck. We make the first go-round without incident. I did a little bit of grinding at the four-way stop (and wouldn't you know the mayor was watching me:) and nearly got off the scales at the elevator (which isn't major, I would've just had to back up and re-aligned myself), but all in all, it went well. I returned to the field feeling pretty good about things so far.
I like to get really good at one thing before moving onto something else. I was pretty comfortable driving Old Blue, and that is what I'd prefer to stick with. On Columbus Day when I helped out a little, my brother tried to get me to drive the combine and I refused. No thank you...I'm not about to screw up something like that. I got away with it until last Friday.
As soon as I returned from my first trip, my brother told me he needed to meet some guy about a piece of equipment, I would have to run the combine. Uhh, no, I don't think so. Oh, yes, you can do it; Sherri (his wife) can do it. Peer pressure. Snap. All right, I told him, but if you show me and I'm not comfortable, I'm not doing it. End of story. We hop on the combine.
"It's just like mowing your yard," he says. And basically that is a true statement, only I cannot mow my yard because I cannot operate that silly zero-turn mower, but I knew what he meant. Back and forth, up and down the rows. In a sense, you are 'mowing' it down. I didn't even have to worry about lining up the head in the corn rows, beans are easier. He shows me this and that and says, "I'll be back in about 30 minutes. Oh, you shouldn't get full, but if you do, just dump it." Okay, yeah...
 |
| Actual evidence of my work = my view behind the wheel. |
Pretty soon Lane puts Hank in the grain truck and motions that he wants to ride with me. He gets in and sits down and I throw out the question, "How do I know if I'm full?" My nine-year-old is pretty cute and sometimes a stinker, but he looks at me like I'm an idiot, points to the back glass and says, "You look out the window." Lo and behold, there was a window right behind me with a perfect view of the hopper. The next look was his bright, wide eyes..."Mom, we're full." Alrighty then.
I stop. I have no idea how to turn on the auger and I'm pretty sure I don't want to even try it. I decide it has been close to 30 minutes and I shut everything down. We get out and wait a few minutes, Mark shows up and all is well. He points me to his truck and the grain wagon and says, "Take that to the elevator." (Oh, you are kidding me. Why can't I just stick with the blue truck?!)
You would think one might be more comfortable driving a truck similar to their own and pulling a little wagon than driving an old, hard-to-shift grain truck...nope. We made it there and back without major incident, but it was a slow process. The max speed with the wagon was about 20 mph for me because I didn't like the shaking. We return and I vow not to make that trip again. Lane agrees. I tell him to hurry up, get Hank and get in Old Blue before Mark changes his mind...and we head back to town.
 |
| Do you think the snapping is bothering Hank? |
By the time we approach the railroad tracks, there are six cars piled up behind me and that PT cruiser is clinging to my backend. To shift down into second, you have to just about stop. No joke. I think it needs to be coasting along at about 5mph. I'm looking at that line of cars thinking, I can't stop, they'll rear-end me...and so I ignored the wise words of the Quackdaddy and told Lane to hang on, we were going to try the hill in third. (Like I'm some stunt driver in a movie or something.) And we go...until we go no more.
Ahhh, SNAP. Halfway up that hill, we died. Now, there's a pit-in-the-gut feeling. I looked in my mirror and thought, if I try to do anything, I'm going to start a chain reaction of front-to-back damage on six cars starting with the PT Cruiser RIGHT ON MY REAR END. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how you look at things, some friends of mine happened to be unloading groceries at that very moment (they live on that hill), they turned to look at me and I heard the mom say "It's Sarah!" I yell out to one of the older boys to wave the cars around me and he does. Thankfully, they passed without collision, I started Old Blue up and away we went.
But first I looked at Lane and said, "Guess I should've listened to Grandpa." I suppose you're never too old to listen to your parents, huh?
As a sidenote to this story, the Quackdaddy bought Old Blue from a family member after "John" died. I kid you not, I could hear his laugh when I stopped dead on that hill. If you knew "John," you know the laugh I'm talking about...
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
More of him, less of me.
He must become greater; I must become less. John 3:30 (NIV)
This past weekend, Madolyn, Grace and I spent the night down in Fairfield. The Varsity Volleyball team had an all-day twelve-team tournament and since the girls are the managers, I went along. There are a couple churches in Fairfield from our denomination and presbytery and we have lots of 'church' friends down there, so we decided to spend the night after the tournament and go to church the next morning.
A good friend preaches at one of the churches down there, but as luck would have it, he and his family were going out of town. That was one of the main reasons I wanted to go. Bummer. They had someone coming in to do the message: a 'kid' from camp that had been their summer youth minister and was attending college at our university in Tennessee. He is a great, funny young man so I was okay with missing the 'real deal' this time.
He started out by showing a video from a song he liked and the one image that caught my attention was the one above. I LOVED IT. Immediately, I thought of two things: That would be a great t-shirt, and I must get that up on our Youth Chalk Wall this week!
After the video played, Holton made a statement like this, "One of my favorite things about this video was the picture of the cross with the greater than sign and the 'I'. Wouldn't that make a great t-shirt?" Ahh, I could not believe he just said that! I even whispered to Mad, "Hey, that's what I was thinking!"
So I'm on Facebook today and I see a video that a friend and Cardinal fan 'liked' and I clicked on it. At the top of the page, it says "Increase, John 3:30." Do you notice anything familiar about that? The scripture was the exact same as the one referenced in the image from the video I saw on Sunday.
Do you think that maybe God wants me to take John 3:30 to heart...that maybe there is a reason I keep seeing THAT scripture text? Hmm....
I then proceeded to play the link about Adam Wainwright. Wow, what a great story, a positive message from someone many might consider a super star. Although few and far between, there are famous Christians out there. It's great to see those with strong faith share their very personal stories.
If you have five minutes to spare, watch this video. Regardless of whether you're a Cardinal fan (although, honestly, how can you not be?), this guy is awesome - and not because he's a famous baseball player either.
http://theincrease.org/store/videos/adam-wainwright-my-story.html
This past weekend, Madolyn, Grace and I spent the night down in Fairfield. The Varsity Volleyball team had an all-day twelve-team tournament and since the girls are the managers, I went along. There are a couple churches in Fairfield from our denomination and presbytery and we have lots of 'church' friends down there, so we decided to spend the night after the tournament and go to church the next morning.
A good friend preaches at one of the churches down there, but as luck would have it, he and his family were going out of town. That was one of the main reasons I wanted to go. Bummer. They had someone coming in to do the message: a 'kid' from camp that had been their summer youth minister and was attending college at our university in Tennessee. He is a great, funny young man so I was okay with missing the 'real deal' this time.
He started out by showing a video from a song he liked and the one image that caught my attention was the one above. I LOVED IT. Immediately, I thought of two things: That would be a great t-shirt, and I must get that up on our Youth Chalk Wall this week!
After the video played, Holton made a statement like this, "One of my favorite things about this video was the picture of the cross with the greater than sign and the 'I'. Wouldn't that make a great t-shirt?" Ahh, I could not believe he just said that! I even whispered to Mad, "Hey, that's what I was thinking!"
So I'm on Facebook today and I see a video that a friend and Cardinal fan 'liked' and I clicked on it. At the top of the page, it says "Increase, John 3:30." Do you notice anything familiar about that? The scripture was the exact same as the one referenced in the image from the video I saw on Sunday.
Do you think that maybe God wants me to take John 3:30 to heart...that maybe there is a reason I keep seeing THAT scripture text? Hmm....
I then proceeded to play the link about Adam Wainwright. Wow, what a great story, a positive message from someone many might consider a super star. Although few and far between, there are famous Christians out there. It's great to see those with strong faith share their very personal stories.
If you have five minutes to spare, watch this video. Regardless of whether you're a Cardinal fan (although, honestly, how can you not be?), this guy is awesome - and not because he's a famous baseball player either.
http://theincrease.org/store/videos/adam-wainwright-my-story.html
Monday, October 21, 2013
Youth Deer Season 2013
Last weekend was youth deer season. Poor Jay had to work, and the kids couldn't decide if they wanted to go, but by Sunday night, they were both itchin' to get to the woods. They have no faith in their mother, so they spent the night with the Quacker's and went out first thing in the morning with Grandpa.
Monday morning came (Columbus day), I got my first text at 6:00 a.m. from Madolyn telling me they were in position. The second text came a few minutes later, "grandpa won't let me put more than one shell in the gun." My reply: "Do what grandpa says, don't complain." The next thing I hear is my cell phone ringing, "We shot a deer! Both of us shot the same one." "What?" "Yeah, we both shot the same one." I threw my clothes on and headed out the door.
I made it to the hunting site and saw the crew. They were beaming. Honestly, I can't tell you who was the most excited out of all of them...Grandpa, Lane or Madolyn. They each were talking a mile a minute, telling their version of events. Fortunately, the kids weren't fighting over who shot it. And how could they? Simple math made it clear that one person did not fire all the shots that made their way into that doe.
We loaded up and went back to the Quacker's for pancakes to celebrate. It was now Grandma's turn to hear the story. I took a couple pictures of my dad telling the tale. He was very animated (no surprise, right) and couldn't keep from laughing. Madolyn, the sassy 13-year-old, was butting in, telling her side of the story, and Lane just kept pacing and giggling. It was a hoot.
In a nutshell, they were set up in position and the Quack was giving hunting tips...as Madolyn says, he would not quit talking. All of a sudden she sees four deer heading right towards them, so she bumps him and tells him to be quiet (in a sweet tone, I'm sure). Now, here is the part that is so typical of any hunt I've ever been on...no one was ready. One gun was on the ground and grandpa was holding the other one.
In slow-mo, they each pick up their respective guns and aim. On the count of the Quackdaddy's three (although I'm told they both shot on two), they pulled the trigger...aiming at the same deer...of course. Lane's blast blew him off his seat on a five-gallon bucket. Remember first off I told you that Mad was upset to only be allowed one slug at a time? When I asked her how it was that she shot four slugs into this poor deer, she said, "Grandpa just kept handing me shells." Ah-ha. (I shook my head, in all my years of hunting, I could shoot and reload as many shells as I had at my fingertips. She gets it honest - we had the same guide.)
I won't go into the gory details, but how my kids shot so many slugs into this deer and never managed to bust the gut or butt is beyond me. Thankfully, the deer was in good enough condition to take to the locker for processing. I will say that although we enjoy the sport aspect of hunting, we also eat the meat. We feel like it goes hand-in-hand. Either you eat it or donate it. It will not go to waste.
Which reminds me, our local chapter of Farmers & Hunters Feeding the Hungry will pay for processing at a few area meat lockers if you are willing to donate your game. Just ask at your locker if they participate in the program. (I know the locker service in Martinsville does.)
We went on about our day, and Madolyn decided that she wanted to go hunting that afternoon, and since Lane tagged the deer, she still had a tag. Three of my nieces also wanted to go, so off we went to Grandma Great's pond. I put everyone in a safe position and got myself situated. It was a beautiful evening. There is something about sitting in the woods and just listening that is therapeutic. It is so peaceful...until the person behind you shoots a slug. Yikes, I was not expecting that first shot from my niece, but somehow managed to stay upright.
The kids were very good and we did see a few deer and have a couple shots. It wasn't necessarily a successful hunt, but at least we saw something. I had to laugh though because at one point, I looked around at our group and took note of a few things that might not be listed in a guide to successful hunting...The older girls were texting non-stop (me too, just a little); the younger two were digging in the dirt and throwing nuts at each other, in silence, of course; I was knitting a washcloth; and one of my nieces brought along a tall, steaming cup of coffee. I'm still shocked that a handful of deer came within 50 yards of us...
Monday morning came (Columbus day), I got my first text at 6:00 a.m. from Madolyn telling me they were in position. The second text came a few minutes later, "grandpa won't let me put more than one shell in the gun." My reply: "Do what grandpa says, don't complain." The next thing I hear is my cell phone ringing, "We shot a deer! Both of us shot the same one." "What?" "Yeah, we both shot the same one." I threw my clothes on and headed out the door.
 |
| Recap |
In a nutshell, they were set up in position and the Quack was giving hunting tips...as Madolyn says, he would not quit talking. All of a sudden she sees four deer heading right towards them, so she bumps him and tells him to be quiet (in a sweet tone, I'm sure). Now, here is the part that is so typical of any hunt I've ever been on...no one was ready. One gun was on the ground and grandpa was holding the other one.
In slow-mo, they each pick up their respective guns and aim. On the count of the Quackdaddy's three (although I'm told they both shot on two), they pulled the trigger...aiming at the same deer...of course. Lane's blast blew him off his seat on a five-gallon bucket. Remember first off I told you that Mad was upset to only be allowed one slug at a time? When I asked her how it was that she shot four slugs into this poor deer, she said, "Grandpa just kept handing me shells." Ah-ha. (I shook my head, in all my years of hunting, I could shoot and reload as many shells as I had at my fingertips. She gets it honest - we had the same guide.)
 |
| This was the kindest photo... |
Which reminds me, our local chapter of Farmers & Hunters Feeding the Hungry will pay for processing at a few area meat lockers if you are willing to donate your game. Just ask at your locker if they participate in the program. (I know the locker service in Martinsville does.)
We went on about our day, and Madolyn decided that she wanted to go hunting that afternoon, and since Lane tagged the deer, she still had a tag. Three of my nieces also wanted to go, so off we went to Grandma Great's pond. I put everyone in a safe position and got myself situated. It was a beautiful evening. There is something about sitting in the woods and just listening that is therapeutic. It is so peaceful...until the person behind you shoots a slug. Yikes, I was not expecting that first shot from my niece, but somehow managed to stay upright.
 |
| Hey, I'm wearing my orange. |
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Weekend Fun
If you're out and about in Martinsville this weekend, here are a couple things going on...
Friday night, the Bluestreaks play football against Cerro Gordo at home, 7:00 p.m. If you haven't been to a game yet to sit in the new bleachers on the WEST side of the field, here is your chance.
Saturday evening, save the dishes and time in the kitchen and stop in at the community center to enjoy a delicious bowl of soup, dessert and drink for $5. You can also taste-test soups for an extra fee. There will be a variety of soups available for you to choose from. This soup supper is hosted by the Martinsville on the Move Education Committee.
The same committee is raffling off the cutest golf cart ever - a Custom PT Cruiser Golf Cart. It is used, but in top-quality condition, along with all new batteries. This golf cart is decked out with all the extra's and is ready for the road (with the local permits, of course). It has a radio, a/c, cooler, golf club cleaner, etc.
For a donation of $25 you receive one chance to win it. It will be given away at the Hometown Christmas Celebration on December 14 (don't have to be present to win). Get your tickets at Accents, The Mustard Seed, or from a member of the Education Committee.
100% of your donation (from both the raffle and soup supper) will be used by the Education Committee to assist teachers with special education projects, scholarships, and education programs for students and members of the Martinsville Community School District.
Finish your Saturday night off with a frightening walk through the Haunted Barn at the Martinsville Fairgrounds Beef Barn sponsored by the Martinsville Fire Protection District and the Ladies Auxiliary. Tickets for the haunted barn are $5. Children under 10 require an adult. Use the southeast gate for entrance and parking.
Who says there's never anything to do in little 'ole Martinsville on a Saturday night?
Friday night, the Bluestreaks play football against Cerro Gordo at home, 7:00 p.m. If you haven't been to a game yet to sit in the new bleachers on the WEST side of the field, here is your chance.
Saturday evening, save the dishes and time in the kitchen and stop in at the community center to enjoy a delicious bowl of soup, dessert and drink for $5. You can also taste-test soups for an extra fee. There will be a variety of soups available for you to choose from. This soup supper is hosted by the Martinsville on the Move Education Committee.
The same committee is raffling off the cutest golf cart ever - a Custom PT Cruiser Golf Cart. It is used, but in top-quality condition, along with all new batteries. This golf cart is decked out with all the extra's and is ready for the road (with the local permits, of course). It has a radio, a/c, cooler, golf club cleaner, etc.
For a donation of $25 you receive one chance to win it. It will be given away at the Hometown Christmas Celebration on December 14 (don't have to be present to win). Get your tickets at Accents, The Mustard Seed, or from a member of the Education Committee.
100% of your donation (from both the raffle and soup supper) will be used by the Education Committee to assist teachers with special education projects, scholarships, and education programs for students and members of the Martinsville Community School District.
Finish your Saturday night off with a frightening walk through the Haunted Barn at the Martinsville Fairgrounds Beef Barn sponsored by the Martinsville Fire Protection District and the Ladies Auxiliary. Tickets for the haunted barn are $5. Children under 10 require an adult. Use the southeast gate for entrance and parking.
Who says there's never anything to do in little 'ole Martinsville on a Saturday night?
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
It was a dad-type of day
Thanks to Christopher Columbus, Monday was a holiday for me and the kiddos. When Jay is working a turnaround, a day off comes once every 20 days and he has a few more before that will happen. This past weekend was youth shotgun deer season, and both of our kids decided to go. Although I had offered to take them out, they went Monday morning with the Quackdaddy. (I'll have another post about that.) Apparently they think mom's can't go hunting...
After helping gut the deer and then taking it to the locker for processing, Quackmamma and I drove straight to my brother's house to get my kids. We were just in time to help transfer equipment. I got in a grain truck and headed over to a field by my house. On my way over, I got a call from the vet telling me he could be at our house in 30 minutes to fix the rectal prolapse on a baby pig, would I be home to help...sure.
I dropped the grain truck off, got back into my truck with Madolyn and went to our house to unload our stuff. As soon as I finished that, the vet showed up. He took a look at Madolyn and said, "We'll probably need her help too." Let me digress...when Jay asked me earlier if I would be around when the vet came by to look at that pig, I said sure. I can show him the pig and write the check, no problem. Jay did not mention 'helping' in the process. Here we go.
I'm standing there watching the vet 'suit' up, wondering if I too should be changing my clothes or covering myself a little better. But there was no time. We follow the doc into the pen, I show him the suffering piglet (poor pig), and he tells us to hold the pig down while he does his thing. (Have you ever held down a pig?) He points me to the front of the pig and Madolyn to the rear and I jump on. Yeah, almost literally.
I tell Madolyn here is her chance to see some veterinary medicine in action (she is thinking she would like to do that) and the doc mentions something about the procedure, and I say, "We just gutted a deer" to which he replied, "Oh, well, you should be all right then." Uh-huh, we'll be all right. I used every ounce of energy and strength I had, but that little fella didn't get up. He finished the procedure and told us we had to keep him segregated for a week. More fun, trying to get the three free-roaming baby boys back into the other pen. They are trained to go in THAT pen, not the one we wanted them in. Ahhh.
I went inside for the first time since I jumped out of bed for the deer and hand-washed a TON of dishes (dishwasher was malfunctioning). Headed out to drive the grain truck. Combine needed tweaking so I helped the Quacks with the feed wagon, ran out of gas on the mule (not the animal, obviously) and drove to town with gas cans.
I ate lunch at the Quackers and head to elevator with a load of soybeans. That was successful, minus some helpful hints from Cody at the elevator, and I returned to the field. It was time to relocate equipment, so I drove the grain truck on to another field and came back home just in time to take the kids back out to the woods hunting. Lane tagged the deer that the two of them shot, so Madolyn could still tag a deer and so could my three nieces.
Over the river and through the woods to Grandma Great's house we go. We found our positions in the woods and waited. Shots were fired but no deer taken (and honestly, I'm not sure I had it in me to deal with another deer). At dark, we loaded up the crew and headed home. I was exhausted and filthy. I was still wearing the old blue jeans and sweatshirt I had put on first thing that morning...There was blood on me from the deer, poo and goo from the pig and the smell of gasoline permeated around me. I needed a shower before anything else occurred.
As I reflected on my day, I decided maybe being a dad is a little tougher than I thought. If Jay had been around, I might have been able to knit all day ;) We sure missed him and we know that he would have rather been with us than at work, but that is just how it goes sometimes.
Dad got an earful when he got home...hearing about our day. Within minutes of me complaining about the dishwasher not working, he had repaired a loose connection and it was fixed. He is definitely my hero.
After helping gut the deer and then taking it to the locker for processing, Quackmamma and I drove straight to my brother's house to get my kids. We were just in time to help transfer equipment. I got in a grain truck and headed over to a field by my house. On my way over, I got a call from the vet telling me he could be at our house in 30 minutes to fix the rectal prolapse on a baby pig, would I be home to help...sure.
I dropped the grain truck off, got back into my truck with Madolyn and went to our house to unload our stuff. As soon as I finished that, the vet showed up. He took a look at Madolyn and said, "We'll probably need her help too." Let me digress...when Jay asked me earlier if I would be around when the vet came by to look at that pig, I said sure. I can show him the pig and write the check, no problem. Jay did not mention 'helping' in the process. Here we go.
I'm standing there watching the vet 'suit' up, wondering if I too should be changing my clothes or covering myself a little better. But there was no time. We follow the doc into the pen, I show him the suffering piglet (poor pig), and he tells us to hold the pig down while he does his thing. (Have you ever held down a pig?) He points me to the front of the pig and Madolyn to the rear and I jump on. Yeah, almost literally.
I tell Madolyn here is her chance to see some veterinary medicine in action (she is thinking she would like to do that) and the doc mentions something about the procedure, and I say, "We just gutted a deer" to which he replied, "Oh, well, you should be all right then." Uh-huh, we'll be all right. I used every ounce of energy and strength I had, but that little fella didn't get up. He finished the procedure and told us we had to keep him segregated for a week. More fun, trying to get the three free-roaming baby boys back into the other pen. They are trained to go in THAT pen, not the one we wanted them in. Ahhh.
I went inside for the first time since I jumped out of bed for the deer and hand-washed a TON of dishes (dishwasher was malfunctioning). Headed out to drive the grain truck. Combine needed tweaking so I helped the Quacks with the feed wagon, ran out of gas on the mule (not the animal, obviously) and drove to town with gas cans.
I ate lunch at the Quackers and head to elevator with a load of soybeans. That was successful, minus some helpful hints from Cody at the elevator, and I returned to the field. It was time to relocate equipment, so I drove the grain truck on to another field and came back home just in time to take the kids back out to the woods hunting. Lane tagged the deer that the two of them shot, so Madolyn could still tag a deer and so could my three nieces.
Over the river and through the woods to Grandma Great's house we go. We found our positions in the woods and waited. Shots were fired but no deer taken (and honestly, I'm not sure I had it in me to deal with another deer). At dark, we loaded up the crew and headed home. I was exhausted and filthy. I was still wearing the old blue jeans and sweatshirt I had put on first thing that morning...There was blood on me from the deer, poo and goo from the pig and the smell of gasoline permeated around me. I needed a shower before anything else occurred.
As I reflected on my day, I decided maybe being a dad is a little tougher than I thought. If Jay had been around, I might have been able to knit all day ;) We sure missed him and we know that he would have rather been with us than at work, but that is just how it goes sometimes.
Dad got an earful when he got home...hearing about our day. Within minutes of me complaining about the dishwasher not working, he had repaired a loose connection and it was fixed. He is definitely my hero.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Best Eats Ever
By now you should know that a large portion of my life revolves around food, what we're going to eat, where we're going to eat it, etc. And when I find something I really like, I'm willing to do about anything to get it every now and then...even if that means driving 45 miles or more.
Last Friday night, Madolyn and I made the trip south for the best tacos on the planet. I know you may think I exaggerate, but seriously, these are really The. Best. Tacos. Ever. On our way home, just after scarfing down two of those treasures, I started thinking about some of my favorite places to eat and who has the best_____. Here is the short list I came up with:
Tacos - (Of course, I had to begin here) The best tacos this side of heaven are found in a not-so-nice-looking-tavern in Lawrenceville, Illinois. The name of this little gem is Syd's. They serve these juicy, flavored-filled, shredded-beef tacos with a fried soft shell every Wednesday and Friday evening from 5-10 pm. They are pretty good sized, so two is just enough and three will stuff you. (I have been known to eat four a time or two.) They literally make my mouth water, and as long as they are serving tacos at Syd's, every few months, I will make the 90-mile round-trip to get some. Last week, we picked up 22 to go. Yes, they are that good.
Pizza - If you live in central or southern Illinois and you don't like Monical's Pizza, well, you need to move on somewhere else. Monical's Pizza is above-all the best pizza around, and the restaurant in Robinson cannot be beat. A couple other Monical's are close in quality, but Robinson remains my favorite. They also carry Pepsi products, which is a plus. I love going down to Monical's on a wintry night with friends and sitting around the table stuffing our bellies. When my aunt and cousins from Michigan come down, we have to make the trip to Monical's, they love it too!
Fried Catfish - Five years ago I would have told you that Earl's in West Union was the best fried catfish (that was the only place I would eat it), but I have since seen the light. A couple years ago on one of our excursions to Southern Illinois, we stumbled upon the E-town River Restaurant in Elizabethtown, IL. There is no match to that fried catfish, or at least none that I have found. It is also mouth-watering and worth the long trek south. In a few weeks, we hope to be making that catfish run. It has been far too long. Yes, I think I'm starting to salivate.
Burgers - How can I live five miles from Moonshine, Illinois, and not peg them with the best hamburger around? You're right, I can't. Even though it is nearly impossible to enjoy one of those plump, juicy burgers these days because of that little secret getting out, they are still the best burgers around. It's a combination of atmosphere and company that make them special. I like them to go because the grease from the burger soaks into the bun. Sounds gross, I know, but it's sooo good.
Some Favorite Has-Been's
Hen House - I would be remiss if I didn't mention the Hen House. The Hen House was located on the north side of the overpass north of Martinsville. As a child, it did not matter what I ate at the Hen House, it was the best. I remember their slightly toasted buttery buns on juicy, thick hamburgers, and I also remember very vividly their thick french toast. Oh, yeah, they had a great little gift shop too. I have lots of good memories hanging out there after Bluestreak ball games. (How I wish we had a place like that in town now.)
The Feed Bag - I may not be able to recall anything in particular that I loved to eat at the Feed Bag in Mazon, Illinois, I probably remember it most because of good memories. Mazon is where my parents met and where my grandparents lived until they retired and moved to south Texas. I made many trips to the big city of Mazon, which included stops at the Feed Bag. Mazon is a very small town, the Feed Bag was the place to be. And what a great name, huh?
The Tastee Freeze - Growing up, the place to go locally for ice cream was The Tastee Freeze in Casey. (We also called it Bongo Bob's Burger Barn.) Much like Dairy Queen, they served food, and their french fries were the best before McDonald's fries were so popular. I love chocolate ice cream and Bongo Bob's had some good chocolate ice cream. Ahhh...
I know there are probably many good joints I'm forgetting. I was thinking about places that weren't necessarily the best, but popular during my childhood. I may have to save that for another day. I'm getting pretty hungry, and hey, it's Friday :)
Last Friday night, Madolyn and I made the trip south for the best tacos on the planet. I know you may think I exaggerate, but seriously, these are really The. Best. Tacos. Ever. On our way home, just after scarfing down two of those treasures, I started thinking about some of my favorite places to eat and who has the best_____. Here is the short list I came up with:
Tacos - (Of course, I had to begin here) The best tacos this side of heaven are found in a not-so-nice-looking-tavern in Lawrenceville, Illinois. The name of this little gem is Syd's. They serve these juicy, flavored-filled, shredded-beef tacos with a fried soft shell every Wednesday and Friday evening from 5-10 pm. They are pretty good sized, so two is just enough and three will stuff you. (I have been known to eat four a time or two.) They literally make my mouth water, and as long as they are serving tacos at Syd's, every few months, I will make the 90-mile round-trip to get some. Last week, we picked up 22 to go. Yes, they are that good.
Pizza - If you live in central or southern Illinois and you don't like Monical's Pizza, well, you need to move on somewhere else. Monical's Pizza is above-all the best pizza around, and the restaurant in Robinson cannot be beat. A couple other Monical's are close in quality, but Robinson remains my favorite. They also carry Pepsi products, which is a plus. I love going down to Monical's on a wintry night with friends and sitting around the table stuffing our bellies. When my aunt and cousins from Michigan come down, we have to make the trip to Monical's, they love it too!
Fried Catfish - Five years ago I would have told you that Earl's in West Union was the best fried catfish (that was the only place I would eat it), but I have since seen the light. A couple years ago on one of our excursions to Southern Illinois, we stumbled upon the E-town River Restaurant in Elizabethtown, IL. There is no match to that fried catfish, or at least none that I have found. It is also mouth-watering and worth the long trek south. In a few weeks, we hope to be making that catfish run. It has been far too long. Yes, I think I'm starting to salivate.
Burgers - How can I live five miles from Moonshine, Illinois, and not peg them with the best hamburger around? You're right, I can't. Even though it is nearly impossible to enjoy one of those plump, juicy burgers these days because of that little secret getting out, they are still the best burgers around. It's a combination of atmosphere and company that make them special. I like them to go because the grease from the burger soaks into the bun. Sounds gross, I know, but it's sooo good.
Some Favorite Has-Been's
Hen House - I would be remiss if I didn't mention the Hen House. The Hen House was located on the north side of the overpass north of Martinsville. As a child, it did not matter what I ate at the Hen House, it was the best. I remember their slightly toasted buttery buns on juicy, thick hamburgers, and I also remember very vividly their thick french toast. Oh, yeah, they had a great little gift shop too. I have lots of good memories hanging out there after Bluestreak ball games. (How I wish we had a place like that in town now.)
The Feed Bag - I may not be able to recall anything in particular that I loved to eat at the Feed Bag in Mazon, Illinois, I probably remember it most because of good memories. Mazon is where my parents met and where my grandparents lived until they retired and moved to south Texas. I made many trips to the big city of Mazon, which included stops at the Feed Bag. Mazon is a very small town, the Feed Bag was the place to be. And what a great name, huh?
The Tastee Freeze - Growing up, the place to go locally for ice cream was The Tastee Freeze in Casey. (We also called it Bongo Bob's Burger Barn.) Much like Dairy Queen, they served food, and their french fries were the best before McDonald's fries were so popular. I love chocolate ice cream and Bongo Bob's had some good chocolate ice cream. Ahhh...
I know there are probably many good joints I'm forgetting. I was thinking about places that weren't necessarily the best, but popular during my childhood. I may have to save that for another day. I'm getting pretty hungry, and hey, it's Friday :)
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Stable instability
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Hebrews 13:8 (NLT)
Lately I was thinking about phone numbers that have been stored away in my memory for many years. Quickly I was able to recite about a dozen phone numbers from my childhood, such as the town grocery store, the library, the schools, my best friends' parent's houses, my family phone numbers, etc. It occurred to me that almost ALL of those numbers are still in existence. I know if I want to call my 'twin sister' Susan's mom and dad at this very moment, I could dial the same number I dialed 25 years ago, and they would answer. My parent's, my aunt and uncle, my grandma's, my in-law's numbers, they're all still the same.
We live in a time where a lot of people have gotten rid of their land line phones and now have only the cell phone to save money. I get that, I do. That is not the point of my post. My point is that there was stability. As a child, I knew what phone number to call to reach my mom and a dozen other people. I wasn't ever worried or anxious about trying to remember which phone number worked and which didn't. In fact, back in the day, we didn't even have to dial all seven or ten numbers, we could just dial (on a brightly-colored rotary phone, of course) the last four digits as long as we were calling local. That seems so bizarre now.
Right now our country is having a power struggle over money, budgets, health care, and everything under the sun. I'm not even sure I understand what is really going on with all of that. But the one thing it has reminded me of is that I should never put my trust in the world, the government or other people. No matter how old we are, we are children of God. Our security should be found in Him first.
As children, we are so dependent upon our parents. My kids expect Jay or I to be home every night. When Jay is working nights, they never have to wonder if I will be home. They never have to worry about who is moving in or out of our house, whether we're moving, what our new address will be (and for how long) or what phone number to call. We do our best to provide some level of stability in our children's lives.
In a world full of instability and constant change, there is nothing better to instill in the mind/heart of a child (whatever the age) than the unconditional love of Jesus Christ. It is the same yesterday, today, and forever. His phone number will never change. His address will remain the same. You can count on that.
Lately I was thinking about phone numbers that have been stored away in my memory for many years. Quickly I was able to recite about a dozen phone numbers from my childhood, such as the town grocery store, the library, the schools, my best friends' parent's houses, my family phone numbers, etc. It occurred to me that almost ALL of those numbers are still in existence. I know if I want to call my 'twin sister' Susan's mom and dad at this very moment, I could dial the same number I dialed 25 years ago, and they would answer. My parent's, my aunt and uncle, my grandma's, my in-law's numbers, they're all still the same.
We live in a time where a lot of people have gotten rid of their land line phones and now have only the cell phone to save money. I get that, I do. That is not the point of my post. My point is that there was stability. As a child, I knew what phone number to call to reach my mom and a dozen other people. I wasn't ever worried or anxious about trying to remember which phone number worked and which didn't. In fact, back in the day, we didn't even have to dial all seven or ten numbers, we could just dial (on a brightly-colored rotary phone, of course) the last four digits as long as we were calling local. That seems so bizarre now.
Right now our country is having a power struggle over money, budgets, health care, and everything under the sun. I'm not even sure I understand what is really going on with all of that. But the one thing it has reminded me of is that I should never put my trust in the world, the government or other people. No matter how old we are, we are children of God. Our security should be found in Him first.
In a world full of instability and constant change, there is nothing better to instill in the mind/heart of a child (whatever the age) than the unconditional love of Jesus Christ. It is the same yesterday, today, and forever. His phone number will never change. His address will remain the same. You can count on that.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Need help!
Hi, my name is Sarah and I'm addicted to knitting. Lord, give me strength, all I want to do is knit. The problem is I also need to do housework and prepare meals and sleep and exercise and lots of other things that don't include knitting.
My other problem is that my hands are kind of hurting...ouch. I can't have that. So I'm hoping it's just getting them in shape to be better than ever...
 |
| "Dumb Donald" |
Lane was begging me for a hat. I started and almost finished his hat twice...I had it almost done at the football game on Saturday night and then the junior high team tied the game and we went into overtime...I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing, but kept knitting (another plus of the knitting is I can't scream and yell and throw my arms up). Eventually, I did put the knitting down because I had to stand to watch us score and WIN, but I screwed up the top of the hat.
So on that Sunday I pulled it all out and started over. I again screwed up the top because I am impatient (and possibly ignorant to the idea of a PATTERN), I unraveled my progress that night and started over again. As they say, the third time is a charm and I was not starting over on this hat again. I'm not sure the yarn could take a fourth knit.
I followed a pattern this time and it worked out. If it hadn't, I was going to have to move on because I am finding all kinds of free patterns on Pinterest...which I vowed almost a year ago to never peruse again. (Note: our annual church bazaar is coming up the first Friday of November. Think knitted items available.)
Somehow I've got to find some sort of balance to be able to include time for knitting without going overboard and neglecting everything and everyone else around me. I'm going to have to use some self discipline...something I'm not very good at. The past couple of weeks, I have had a pain in my neck (ha) and went to the chiropractor. He says the constant looking down (obsessive-knitting) is causing strain on my neck. Must. Control. Myself.
As Jay said the other night when I discovered I had to start over again, "You just need to stop and walk away." Yes, put the needles down and walk away...maybe I should try that.
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