Impersonate This

When I wake up in the morning and look in the mirror, this is how I would describe myself.  

* Leftover eye makeup slightly smeared giving me the "smokey" look.

* Thin, scraggly blond hair.

* Bret Michaels.

Seriously!  I'm not even kidding.  I'm going to Vegas.  I could totally be the next Bret Michaels impersonator (without the "boy parts" of course).  Tie a bandanna on my head, purse my lips like I'm kissing the camera and add a gentle breeze ruffling my hair.  Spittin' image!

Is it sad that I'm not offended by this?

No.  But it is sad that he looks better than what I see in the morning.  Ouch!

We're Famous!

There was a bike race last weekend that went right past our house all day long.  Hundreds of cyclists pedaled by for the noble cause of fighting M.S.  So with all the excitement the kids insisted on setting up their chairs and cheering for the bikers.  We decorated a tree in the front yard for my BIL (brother-in-law), Jon, who was riding in the race with his family, and I made a couple of signs for the kids to hold that said, "Go Bikers!"  The four of them sat there and chanted "Go Bikers!  Go Bikers!" for what seemed like forever.  I was so sick of the chanting that on more than one occasion I almost told them to come inside.  (How embarrassing for me!)  But they cheered and chanted and yelled and it payed off.  A group of women who were riding in the race stopped when they saw my little darlings and one of the women asked if they could take a picture of the cheer squad for Channel 2 News.  Well of course you can, I said.  And so they did.  The kids were on cloud nine for the rest of the day and kept their post until the last few bikers trickled by.  Then they were waiting anxiously in front of the 5 o'clock news.  Nothing.  Then the 10 o'clock news.  Still nothing.  WTH?  We didn't see anything about the race or any sign of the photo that had been taken.  Then again there had been just a few minutes of the news that we had missed for potty breaks and snacks.  Oops!  Sure enough, those kiddos had been on the 5 o'clock news and my neighbor saw them and told me the following day.  We were all bummed that we missed the actual news broadcast but the kids were thrilled that they had been on TV and they are still convinced and bragging that they "are famous"! 

Welcome to the Farm

I am married to the most handsome farmer/cowboy ever.  In fact, being a fan of Little House on the Prairie, I like to think that I'm married to the modern day version of Charles Ingles (minus the curly hair of course and a few other things.  Whatever!  So he looks nothing like Mr. Ingles.  But I still consider myself a lucky gal.)  Who wouldn't want a man like Charles Ingles?  Seriously!  Well, after years of working on farms, running a farm, running other businesses, and moving around, we are finally the proud co-owners of a bunch of little calves.  Aren't the cute?  We love them.  The kids take turns feeding them bottles every morning at 6 AM and every evening at 6 PM and they think it is the coolest job ever.  To be truthful, I think they like wearing the rubber boots more than anything.  So without further ado, let me introduce you to our babies.  Skidster is Brooks' calf, Millie is our sweet only female, Snowy is Cort's and Running Buck belongs to our buddy Karson.  The other babies include Bugsy, Heart, Wally, White Socks, Black Spots, Buddy, Morgan, Spots, Heart, Big Guy, Blacky, Black Ears and Frisky.  And amazingly enough we have only had one fatality.  May you rest in peace Black Spots.  And although parting with our beloved Black Spots was tragic, the highlight of his passing was when Gracie came home from chores and exclaimed, "I gotta ride in the back of the truck with a dead cow!"  Oh, the joys of farm life. 

(Aren't these the cutest little farmers you've ever seen?  Love these monkeys.  And, no, they aren't all mine.  Three of these cuties are my nieces and nephew.  Just thought I'd clear that up.  You're welcome.)