My baby

My baby girl is almost one.

She loves peas and kitties, and her thumb. She hates socks and her car seat, and hats of any kind. She is one tough little cookie, since she gets run over by her older brothers all the time.

When I learned that I was pregnant with her, I cried for two days and didn't sleep for two weeks.

Now?


I am so in love. I can't keep myself from scooping her up to kiss her sweet soft cheeks, and her eyeballs, and her chin, and her neck... all the time.

I can't believe it's almost been a year since the truth hit me smack in the face (well, actually it was a different body part), and I could no longer be in denial that in fact, she was.

And she is.

And she is almost a year old.

Green and yellow

(green and yellow)

(just a little mud)

(recycled, frugal, homemade weight thing)

(just the right size)

(the world is his sandbox)

(and there was much rejoicing!)

Animal handling skills

We had a dramatic celebration of victory!


After a quest of epic proportions, my youngest boy courageously captured his adversary, the skunk. (Really. You have no idea.)

He protected himself with socks, of course. There was also a backpack, a bowl, and a toy chainsaw involved.

The socks were multipurpose. At one point he also used them to cover his nose, because as you know, skunks tend to be rather stinky.

I later found the skunk in it's final resting place, a boy's dirty clothes hamper.

This week's challenge at I Heart Faces is "Dramatic black and white". Although, maybe this isn't the type of drama they were after?


Come join the fun!

A tractor

Have I mentioned we recently bought a tractor?


Well, not that one.

I guess that means we have two, both very fun.

A moment

I have tried so many times to get a good sun flare.

I had a moment yesterday when I thought I finally nailed it, until I looked at it on my computer screen.

Can I just say it?


Stupid cheap five-blade lens sun flare artifact! Just look at the pentagon that ruined the photo! A pentagon! Don't say you can't see it.

Yeah, I could clone it out.

No, I'm not going to. It's just laundry.

Yes, I know this is the worst photo I have ever used for You Capture. There are better ones I took of the clothesline. Then again, the flare is a darn good flare.

There you have it, a moment (yet again) when I swear I'm gonna get myself a better lens. And someday, someday soon, a moment will arrive that I actually do.

I hope this is not the moment you say to yourself, "Wow. I'm never visiting her You Capture again. That girl needs help."

There may yet be a moment I realize that I really shouldn't participate in You Capture when I'm grumpy (or at 2am).

You Capture - "A Moment"

Socks

Around here, no one wants to wear socks. I find discarded socks everywhere.

Summer can't come soon enough for all these bare feet.

I also can't wait for summer.


I was a rebel and used my clothesline today.

I admit it was really not warm outside, but it was windy. The laundry almost got dry.


The little bean asked to see chickens today (she loves watching them through the window), so I grabbed her and some bread, and went out the back door.

We sat on the back step. I threw bits of bread at the hens and she laughed and laughed as the birds squawked and bounced off each other. She held a piece of bread tight in her little fist, and the chickens nibbled at her fingers trying to get to their snack.

She thought it was great.

After we were out of bread, she threw the one sock that she was wearing at them.

The birds checked, of course, whether it was something edible. I'm just glad they didn't run off with it (like they did with someone's glove last summer). Chickens are thieves.

Discarded socks are one thing. Stolen socks are another thing altogether.

The neighbor's babies

We had a blast playing with a few of the many new babies over at the neighbor's ranch.

My baby called them kitties, and then she cried.


It wasn't too long, though, and she was petting three-day-old Lucky...


with her sock-gloved hands while she laughed and laughed.

Now if that doesn't look like a kitty, I sure don't know what does.

Lucky's mama had eaten a few things she shouldn't have, yummy things like wire. She wasn't feeling too well. He was born by cesarean.

I wish I could have seen that.

My boys reluctantly helped bottle feed.

Just look at the milk dripping down on top of the cat. (The little bean was right, there were kitties around.)


The cats lap up what they can of the milk that dribbles down, while more blops onto their heads. After the milkfest, the cats clean each other off.

Maybe in a year or two (if my barn hasn't fallen over) we'll be ready to buy a bottle calf, like one of these, and raise it.

Do you eat beef? We do. Guess what, it really doesn't come on a plastic tray wrapped up neatly in clingwrap.

Although that is convenient.

It actually comes like this.



As Americans, we are horribly disconnected from our food supply. It is all too easy to open a package from the grocery store, and without thought consume whatever tasty meals we make of it.

I think that we all ought to slow down once in awhile, take a moment or two and think about where our food comes from.

When looking these babies in the eye, letting them try to suck milk out of your thumb, and feeling the soft swirl of fur on their foreheads, you realize just how precious they are.

That is not a gift to take lightly.