Back to Reality

The party is over.

The tree is down. The decorations are put away.

The billfold is slim and the scale is bulging.

It’s time to get back to reality – back to school, to work, to normal sized portions and daily exercise.

I’m ready.

I’m ready for routine, for a schedule, for the normal routine of daily life, and yes – even for a day without Christmas goodies. <gulp>

I’m ready to make good on my New Year’s resolutions.

Seriously I am.

This year I resolve  not over spend my food budget and finally lose those last twenty pounds. (Hmmm… I wonder if those two are related?!)

And I’m ready to start right now.

Seriously I am.

Right after I have one last caramel hot chocolate…

Hunters, Holidays and Tall Tales

We interrupt this Christmas season for a brief hunting interlude.

Why? Because  – let’s face it – hunting season definitely lands smack dap in the middle of yuletide preparations.

Think – pint sized Joseph decked out in camouflage  at Christmas program practice.

Or deer carcasses hanging in full view of the Christmas lights.

Or cooks taking a break from cookie baking to process this week’s kill.

Such is life in hunting season.

Such is my life this week.

The culprits are Grampa French, Mr. Cheesey, and Brian – our three hunters from Michigan. They’re camped out in our basement, spend the day reducing our deer population, and in the evening – they entertain us with their stories.

Oh my – such stories!

I’ve decided that hunters (at least these hunters) are much like fishermen – you never quite know where the truth ended!

They were talking about how many rabbits we have around here – and I mentioned what a nuisance they were in the garden.

Grandpa French leaned in and said, “You want to know how to catch those rabbits?”

I was all ears.

He continued, “Find a flat rock and sprinkle it with some freshly ground pepper” He paused and glanced around the table to make sure he had his audience.

“Then carefully lay a romaine leaf directly on top.”

Another dramatic pause.

“The rabbit will start eating the lettuce leaf…”

We all leaned in so as not to miss anything.

“Then the pepper will make him sneeze – throwing his head forward and he knocks himself out on the rock!”

Ouch! The master story teller got us again.

And so the laughter continues…

Poison Ivy – Revisited

I can’t believe it.

Here I am a miserable, red itchy mess again – thanks to my nemesis – the dreaded poison ivy.

After my last horrible episode with the toxic weed I have been extremely careful outside. So how could I possibly get poison ivy when I have barely left the house for a week? I wasn’t even out of the yard since last Monday?!

But the kids were.

They were all over the property – in and out of ravines and up and down the hills.

Then they took their dirty clothes off and put them in the laundry.

Clothes

I’ll give you three guesses as to who helped to sort that laundry and start it through the washer.

I must have gotten some of that nasty urushial oil on my forearms and spread it – everywhere – my arms, legs, back, all over my abdomen and even on my face.

With an outbreak this big, many of the things I’ve tried before just weren’t practical. I did shower twice a day using Dawn soap to stop the oil from spreading.

And I changed our bedding every day and I never wore any article of clothing more than once before washing it.

But the real hero for this nasty bout has become my die hard blow dryer – the one I bought back in college and now  pull out once a year to defrost the freezer.

Dryer

I read online that blowing a blow dryer directly on the rash and holding it there for as long as you can will help with the itching. In my desperation, I tried it and – believe it or not – it worked.

It heats the rash up until it stings and itches so bad you can’t stand it.  But it stops the itching for a good two hours.

It wasn’t a cure all – nor did it stop the rash from spreading – but it did keep me sane until I could get in to the doctor for a round of medication.

Oh – happy pills – how I needed you!

Needless to say – it’s been a painful week thus far.

But there’s always a bright side – with the rash on my forearms I can’t do any laundry or dishes so I won’t spread it to others. :)

Just What Is a Homesteader?

homesteadingYou may have noticed that I often refer to my family as “homesteaders”.

I will admit that it has raised some questions.

Most people think of a homesteader as those brave souls who took up the “free” land offered by the government in the 1800′s.

They lived in tar paper shanties or earthen dugouts while they  “proved” up their section. They survived freakish blizzards and grasshopper plagues while settling up the mid-section of our great country.

That’s not us. (Although some of last winter’s weather was a bit freakish! :) )

Neither are we farmers – or ranchers – or pork producers – or cattle producers – or dairymen. But I think the world of this people (and you should too if you ate anything today!) Some of my closest friends and many relatives would fall into these categories.

Even though we both live in rural America – those folks all have lots of land, big machines, large flocks or herds and they feed the world.

It’s their job and they do it well.

But it’s not us.

We’re homesteaders. We have some land, miniature tractors, a few animals and attempt to feed ourselves.

We don’t make a living from our land – but we try to live off our land.

We raise a few chickens for their eggs and their meat. We may have a few cattle or a few pigs – all with the intent to butcher them for our own needs.

We have a large garden and orchard so we can enjoy fresh fruits and vegetables. On a good year we even have some to share.

Webster’s dictionary defines a homestead as “The home and adjoining land occupied by a family”.

That’s us. We’re living on the land and making it a home.

We’re homesteaders.

Blue Jeans And Cotton Tees – Proof in Pictures!

As I was packing for our upcoming “epic adventure” – I had to giggle as I saw my pile of clothes.

Mom

I had a rainbow of cotton tee shirts sitting beside my pile of blue jeans!

Dad

Then I saw my husbands pile- same thing – only in more masculine colors!

Blue jeans and cotton tees – it’s what we wear – it’s how we live.

Now I have the proof in pictures!