When our daughter invited us to join them on a trip we were warned ahead of time that this was a trip for the kids. Everything would be pretty much geared to what they would enjoy. There wouldn't be adult dinners, movies with real people, or quiet afternoon naps. We would however, have the option to not participate in the "family" activities. The first test came when the girls announced that the next day we would be going to the amusement park. The youngest looked up at me solemnly, "Mama says you don't do roller coasters. It's o.k., I can stay and keep you company if I'm not tall enough to ride."
She's right. I don't do roller coasters. In fact I don't do any ride that goes fast, high or gets me wet. I have stood on the ground, covered in a terror-sweat, watching my whole world going around on the Ferris wheel, but could not get on it for anything. All I could do was watch and pray that my children returned to earth unharmed. The mothers of the astronauts could not have felt more fear. So here was this five year old earnestly reassuring me that she would hold my hand while I waited.
Hubby and the kids always loved the amusement parks. I would carry packages, keep up with tickets, study the park maps, wipe faces, and hubby would ride the rides with the kids. I usually would stand in line with them to pacify the kids, and keep hubby from getting too restless at the wait, then slip out as they approached the head of the line. I could then browse the shops or wander until I met them at the exit gate.
This worked fine until a trip to Disney World. We had enjoyed a long day at the park and were heading for one last ride. Dusk was approaching but the kids wanted to ride one more time. They chose the Space Mountain ride for their final run. I lined up with them and we chatted about our fun day as we waited. The line gradually moved up as we wound in and out of the line up area. It gradually began to dawn on me that we had moved inside of a building. I began looking for a way to get out, so I could wait for the rest of the family after the ride. Looking around, I couldn't see any way to leave without climbing over the long line of people behind us. No doors, no exit signs, no place to chicken out. I was stuck.
I decided that I could do this. After all it was a perfectly safe form of entertainment. Nothing more.
Chanting softly to myself, "It's just a ride. I can do it.", we inched forward. Around the next turn in the line I found myself facing a sign listing all of the people who should not ride....those who had high blood pressure, heart problems, back problems, breathing difficulties. With sweaty palms and a dry mouth, I assured myself that it was perfectly safe. They couldn't run a ride if it was truly dangerous. My kids gripped my hands and murmured reassuring words as we moved steadily forward.
We finally arrived at the starting point and were ushered into the cars. The lap bar locked down and we were ready. "What? No seat belts, three point harnesses? Just this little bar?!" With that we were OFF! We roared into the darkness amid the screams of the riders. Around and around we flew, up and down, faster and faster. The wind rushed by my face but I saw nothing. I had my eyes screwed shut and was holding on for dear life.
An eternity later the ride was over. The passengers started to exit from the cars. My son, sitting next to me, gave me a prod. "Come on, Mom, we need to leave." I just looked at him helplessly as the attendant approached our car. "Is there a problem?" he inquired politely. I looked up in embarrassment, "Yes. You see I can't make my hand turn loose of the grab bar." I had gripped so tightly that now the muscles were locked onto the bar.
With infinite patience, he smiled and proceeded to pry my fingers loose, one at a time. Stuttering with shame, I apologized for the trouble. He just laughed, "Lady, I do this all day long every day."
Yep. I would let the grandkids ride and I would hold the packages and wait. I tempted fate once but never again!!
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Random Thoughts
We were out of town for a week with the mid-west family and returned home to backed-up chores, high heat, and grandkids, so time to share has been limited, to say the least.
******
The massive rains (11 inches in two weeks) have created some nightmares on the farm. Our son's tobacco crop was declared 100% loss. The beautiful rows of green plants were reduced to yellow and brown from the unrelenting rain. Farmers must keep the ulcer medicine companies in business.
******
I spent all spring on a campaign to reduce the size of my garden. Hubby just loves to plant and I usually wind up with rows and rows of beans to pick and can. So this year instead of nagging, I've been feeding him green beans every meal, telling him all the time that I need to get the number of jars stored in the basement down to make room for the new ones. The garden was actually planted while I was away visiting and the plan worked. He only planted four rows of beans with plans to do a few more for a late crop. Then the plan boom-a-ranged on me. We arrived home from a week in drought and heat stricken Missouri to find that the incessant rain had reduced my garden to mush. The few beans that survived were demanding to be picked immediately. (Beans are like a lot of plants...if allowed to bring beans to complete maturity they will quit producing new beans, since they see their job as done! Hence, you have to keep picking for them to keep producing.) So, I started picking in the heat and mud.
*******
Grandchildren tickle the heart and exhaust the body.
My daughter-in-law is out of town this week on business and the oldest grandson is on a mission trip to far Eastern Kentucky, that leaves my son and I hustling to keep up with the younger ones. I found out that I am completely out of practice at keeping up with a 2, 5, and 7 year old and cooking three meals a day. We've managed to have a lot of fun but I'm usually running about a step behind. The plus side is the delight we have had in the time with them.
********
Saw a quote I just have to pass along.
"Here in the South, we don't hide crazy. We parade it on the front porch and give it a cocktail."
It made me think of some of my favorite relatives, which are, at best, eccentric.
********
A mother can always find something to feel guilty about.
I know I am not responsible for the weather, but I find myself apologizing for it. My daughter is suffering from a severe lack of rain, so when I talk to her I tend to downplay our crisis of too much rain. When I talk to my son, I tend to be careful not to dwell on the plight of the hot, dry situation of his sibling. Why? I certainly can't fix either's problems.
********
Hubby and I took an extra couple of days and made a one and a half day drive going and coming from Missouri to vacation with the Iowa family. It was a grand trip out, full of anticipation at being with the granddaughters and total enjoyment of the peace and quiet returning home.
******
On our trip we crossed into Missouri at Wickliff, Ky. A fascinating adventure. We first crossed the muddy Ohio River in full flood. We arrived off the bridge on a little spit of land then, continued on a second bridge to cross the slightly smaller Mississippi River. Looking to your left you can see where these two mighty rivers join to become the massive, rolling, muddy, Mississippi River. Awesome!
********
Hope you are neither too hot, too dry, too wet, or too cold. Or as Baby Bear says in Goldilocks, just right.
******
The massive rains (11 inches in two weeks) have created some nightmares on the farm. Our son's tobacco crop was declared 100% loss. The beautiful rows of green plants were reduced to yellow and brown from the unrelenting rain. Farmers must keep the ulcer medicine companies in business.
******
I spent all spring on a campaign to reduce the size of my garden. Hubby just loves to plant and I usually wind up with rows and rows of beans to pick and can. So this year instead of nagging, I've been feeding him green beans every meal, telling him all the time that I need to get the number of jars stored in the basement down to make room for the new ones. The garden was actually planted while I was away visiting and the plan worked. He only planted four rows of beans with plans to do a few more for a late crop. Then the plan boom-a-ranged on me. We arrived home from a week in drought and heat stricken Missouri to find that the incessant rain had reduced my garden to mush. The few beans that survived were demanding to be picked immediately. (Beans are like a lot of plants...if allowed to bring beans to complete maturity they will quit producing new beans, since they see their job as done! Hence, you have to keep picking for them to keep producing.) So, I started picking in the heat and mud.
*******
Grandchildren tickle the heart and exhaust the body.
My daughter-in-law is out of town this week on business and the oldest grandson is on a mission trip to far Eastern Kentucky, that leaves my son and I hustling to keep up with the younger ones. I found out that I am completely out of practice at keeping up with a 2, 5, and 7 year old and cooking three meals a day. We've managed to have a lot of fun but I'm usually running about a step behind. The plus side is the delight we have had in the time with them.
********
Saw a quote I just have to pass along.
"Here in the South, we don't hide crazy. We parade it on the front porch and give it a cocktail."
It made me think of some of my favorite relatives, which are, at best, eccentric.
********
A mother can always find something to feel guilty about.
I know I am not responsible for the weather, but I find myself apologizing for it. My daughter is suffering from a severe lack of rain, so when I talk to her I tend to downplay our crisis of too much rain. When I talk to my son, I tend to be careful not to dwell on the plight of the hot, dry situation of his sibling. Why? I certainly can't fix either's problems.
********
Hubby and I took an extra couple of days and made a one and a half day drive going and coming from Missouri to vacation with the Iowa family. It was a grand trip out, full of anticipation at being with the granddaughters and total enjoyment of the peace and quiet returning home.
******
On our trip we crossed into Missouri at Wickliff, Ky. A fascinating adventure. We first crossed the muddy Ohio River in full flood. We arrived off the bridge on a little spit of land then, continued on a second bridge to cross the slightly smaller Mississippi River. Looking to your left you can see where these two mighty rivers join to become the massive, rolling, muddy, Mississippi River. Awesome!
********
Hope you are neither too hot, too dry, too wet, or too cold. Or as Baby Bear says in Goldilocks, just right.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
I Hate Pigs
I am an animal lover. I love baby ducks, toddling calves, and kittens. I even get warm fuzzies from petting the old show cows as they come through the barn. I think the smell of a sweaty horse is pure perfume. The dogs and cats follow me like the Pied Piper as I go about the farm. I gush over new calves and dote on the cats. However, I just can't get all excited about pigs.
I should have taken note of the fact that Hubby earned his spending money by raising feeder pigs when we were dating. However, they were down at the barn and as a "townie" I wasn't expected to visit the barn much. I knew they were there and that they smelled, A LOT---but I was young and in love, so I didn't give it much thought.
Then, all of a sudden we were newly-weds living on a farm in Breckinridge Co. and trying to make ends meet. The next thing I know Hubby has brought home three sows to live with us on the farm. "Pigs!!" I exclaimed, "You bought three pigs!?" Smugly he replied, "Do you know what pigs are bringing? They'll make us good money off their litters. You just wait and see!"
What I saw was that pigs are smart and a pain in the butt. (plus they smell)
Pig manure is so strong that it soon ate up Hubby's boots, so he had to start wearing rubber boots. His clothes now stunk up my utility room so they had to be washed immediately (not always convenient). That, however, was a minor point.
The biggest problem with pigs is that they are SMART. Animal Farm had it right--pigs are definitely leaders and thinkers. The first thing those three sows learned was how to escape from their pens, in the barn. The second was that dog food was goo-oo-d. So it seemed that almost daily I would look out my kitchen window and see pigs eating the dog food on the porch. The dog would be crouched in a corner, tail between his legs, begging for his life! (even he knew pigs were to be avoided). Being more than a little scared of them myself, I wasn't about to go out and run them off (sorry dog, you are on your own). In desperation I would crack the door enough to get a broom through it and whack at the pigs in an attempt to run them off.
Hubby would eventually come through and laugh at me and herd the pigs back to their pens. "You don't have to be scared of them", he would laugh, "they won't hurt you." Yeah. Sure. I also saw him a few weeks later do a great imitation of Superman, as he flew head-first over the pen fence one leap ahead of a angry mama hog! Nothing is meaner than a mama hog.
Eventually the babies were raised and the mama pigs were released into a field behind the barn. To ensure they stayed put Hubby put an electric fence around the lot. The old sows would stand at the fence and look longingly at the house and the tempting dog food bowl. They knew that the fence was painful and they couldn't cross it. I looked back, in scorn and triumph, because they were unable to get to me (and the dog food).
Then I noticed one old sow had started backing up into the middle of the lot. Step by step she backed away from the fence. "Aha! I have finally won!", I thought to myself. When she reached the middle of the lot, she stopped, and spent a long moment just staring at the fence. Then with a snort she started running. With every step she squealed and grunted. Faster and faster she came, the squeals getting shriller. I stared in horror as she closed her eyes, squealing piercingly, and ran, headfirst, into the single strand of electric fence! The squeals reached a crescendo and then she was through the fence!!
Gradually slowing to a walk, she looked to the window where I watched in amazement, and I swear, she winked!
Hope the dog didn't mind sharing.
I should have taken note of the fact that Hubby earned his spending money by raising feeder pigs when we were dating. However, they were down at the barn and as a "townie" I wasn't expected to visit the barn much. I knew they were there and that they smelled, A LOT---but I was young and in love, so I didn't give it much thought.
Then, all of a sudden we were newly-weds living on a farm in Breckinridge Co. and trying to make ends meet. The next thing I know Hubby has brought home three sows to live with us on the farm. "Pigs!!" I exclaimed, "You bought three pigs!?" Smugly he replied, "Do you know what pigs are bringing? They'll make us good money off their litters. You just wait and see!"
What I saw was that pigs are smart and a pain in the butt. (plus they smell)
Pig manure is so strong that it soon ate up Hubby's boots, so he had to start wearing rubber boots. His clothes now stunk up my utility room so they had to be washed immediately (not always convenient). That, however, was a minor point.
The biggest problem with pigs is that they are SMART. Animal Farm had it right--pigs are definitely leaders and thinkers. The first thing those three sows learned was how to escape from their pens, in the barn. The second was that dog food was goo-oo-d. So it seemed that almost daily I would look out my kitchen window and see pigs eating the dog food on the porch. The dog would be crouched in a corner, tail between his legs, begging for his life! (even he knew pigs were to be avoided). Being more than a little scared of them myself, I wasn't about to go out and run them off (sorry dog, you are on your own). In desperation I would crack the door enough to get a broom through it and whack at the pigs in an attempt to run them off.
Hubby would eventually come through and laugh at me and herd the pigs back to their pens. "You don't have to be scared of them", he would laugh, "they won't hurt you." Yeah. Sure. I also saw him a few weeks later do a great imitation of Superman, as he flew head-first over the pen fence one leap ahead of a angry mama hog! Nothing is meaner than a mama hog.
Eventually the babies were raised and the mama pigs were released into a field behind the barn. To ensure they stayed put Hubby put an electric fence around the lot. The old sows would stand at the fence and look longingly at the house and the tempting dog food bowl. They knew that the fence was painful and they couldn't cross it. I looked back, in scorn and triumph, because they were unable to get to me (and the dog food).
Then I noticed one old sow had started backing up into the middle of the lot. Step by step she backed away from the fence. "Aha! I have finally won!", I thought to myself. When she reached the middle of the lot, she stopped, and spent a long moment just staring at the fence. Then with a snort she started running. With every step she squealed and grunted. Faster and faster she came, the squeals getting shriller. I stared in horror as she closed her eyes, squealing piercingly, and ran, headfirst, into the single strand of electric fence! The squeals reached a crescendo and then she was through the fence!!
Gradually slowing to a walk, she looked to the window where I watched in amazement, and I swear, she winked!
Hope the dog didn't mind sharing.
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