#569

Oh. My. Gosh. WHAT am I supposed to do with this DOG?!?

The Secret Life of Bees

. . . is one of my all-time favorite books.

I. Love. It.

But I prefer to read about bees, not own and raise them.

Oh well, so much for my preference.

As of two weeks ago, we now own and raise bees.

Which has been John's dream for a very long time.  And, as everyone knows, nothing comes between a man and his insect-nurturing ambitions.

Apparently, a cat, a dog, and 6 chickens were not enough.

At least bees are easier than the ear-biting/furniture-chewing/pooping-all-over-my-grass canine.

Easier.....until a swarm of these striped, flying arthropods decides to attack.

*Sigh*

Until then, bring on the fresh honey! {There's got to be a bright side to all the madness, right?}

Why I didn't want a dog: Reason #568

Because they bite.   

They bite ears.  

They bite the ears of little 6-year-old boys.  And they bite them so hard that it requires a trip to the emergency room and 10 stitches to put the ear back together again.

 

Mom telling him that he has to have stitches.

Okay, ya, that's owie.

Ah, Phineas and Ferb to distract him....why didn't we think of that sooner?!

Now that's a little more calm.  Thank heavens for anesthetic, The Disney Channel, and a really great doctor.

How many nurses out there would go out to the vending machine and buy her patient not only one package of Reese's PB cups, but TWO?!  Well, I know of at least one nurse who did.


The finished product.  And surely a scar to last the rest of his life.  Dangit.





I didn't want a dog.

I really didn't.

Oh, and I almost forgot.  It was Raegan and Haylie's birthday the same day.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my twins - born 4 years apart. :)
(At least their braces are kind of twin-ish.)
Raegan - 20, Haylie -16

Sorry, girls, that your special day had to take a back-seat to the dog/ear trauma.  Sheesh.

Brooke - From Joy School to BYU

May 1992 - Joy School graduation


 
April 22, 2011

Scrum-diddly-umptious . . .

. . . is what Brooke's new cooking blog is.   Finally, "The Flour Sack" is up and running.  Enjoy :)

                                                       click --->   The Flour Sack

Half Marathon

A picture is worth a thousand words.  This photo is no exception.

John and Brooke, just after they finished the Salt Lake City Half Marathon on Saturday.  One of them was "ready" for the 13.1 mile run, the other, well, mmm, not so much.

Can you guess who was ready?  Who was not? (Hint: Who looks happy, refreshed, and ready to run another 13.1?  And who looks like they are fighting with every ounce of remaining energy to muster out a half-smile for the camera?)

I wonder if the "big white spot" in John's vision had started to fade by the time this was taken.
(To quote Brooke, "When I saw dad come over that finish line, well, I've just never, ever seen him look that bad.")

*Side note:  Yes, John's right hip looks really, really big.  That's because it is packed with, like, seven drinkable yogurts and at least 2 chocolate milks (you know, the "free" ones they give out at the race).   He may have come home with a limp to rival Quazimoto's, but hey, he totally took advantage of the free loot.  That's my boy!

She's here.

Meet Miss Molly...

No lack of love around the house for this pooch.

 (Except maybe from me, but I'm working on it.)

The polls are closed...

...all votes have been tallied, and the results are in.

Let's see, what do we have here?

Scout - 8 votes

Molly - 8 votes

Okay, well, the numbers have spoken and the name has been decided.  Our puppy shall be known as...*drumroll*

Scolly.

(Or....Mout?  Hmmm, perhaps another poll in is order....)

Our farm.

The fact remains: We're getting a dog, so why not add some chickens to the mixture?!

Might as well.

*Sigh*

As we continue to ponder over which name we should give our new puppy, naming the new chicks has been much less stressful. 

Meet the newest additions to our farm - Flora, Della, Spot (or Sirius Black, whichever you prefer), Martha, and two as-of-yet unnamed chicks which belong to my "much-too-busy-to-name-a-chicken" daughters, Brooke and Raegan.  So for now we'll just call their chicks Thing 1 and Thing 2.

Six fuzzy little chirp-balls.

Who live in my kitchen.

In a cardboard box.

Who have learned to escape from the cardboard box and run like.....chickens around my kitchen.

While squeaking and pooping on the floor.

They're getting me ready for the puppy, aren't they?

Except the puppy poop will be bigger and MUCH more difficult to clean up.

Thanks chicks, at least your trying to prepare me.

Raegan's Thing 1

Martha

 The kids set up a Lego maze for the chicks to run through.  Poor things.  

They were completely lost AND they almost became the cat's lunch.  (See below)

Adam, being the thoughtful decorator he is, made a little drawing for the inside of the chicks' home.  Notice how lovingly Thing 1 is gazing at the artwork. 

 

Spot, named by Adam.  The rest of the kids know this little chickie as Sirius Black.

 

These chicks certainly live up to their name!  They are so CHICKEN!  One little sound or bump to their home and they all scurry into the corner and pile in a fluffy heap of poultry.

John made some little windows in their home.  They love to stick their heads out and see the
  action of the kitchen, hoping they don't end up on that dinner table someday as Enchiladas con Pollo.

And while we're on the subject of animals, I might as well include a picture of Matthew's "snow dog."  

Sadly, snow dog is dead now. 

Name

I never imagined naming a dog would be as hard as naming a child.  Man oh man oh man.  However, after much family deliberation (discussing, arguing, fighting - whatever you want to call it) we have it narrowed down to two names.   The problem is half of us want one and half want the other.  

I want to know what YOU think, so please take three seconds and cast your vote (on the right) for your favorite. The two choices are:

1) Scout (from one of the greatest literature reads of all time - To Kill a Mockingbird).

2) Molly (as in the unsinkable Molly Brown OR Molly from the American Girl Dolls, with which my girls used to be completely obsessed).

Here's a photo of our Goldendoodle girl (part Golden Retriever, part poodle):

Sorry, it's tiny and the only photo we have....taken by the breeder.  We have yet to meet this 2 1/2 pound fuzzy wad.  

So....does she look like a Molly or a Scout?  (If you hate both names, please vote for the one you hate the least.)

(Notice I said nothing (too) negative about the dog in this post.  I am working on changing my attitude about this irreversible situation.  And I'm doing better!  After I got in bed last night, I didn't cry!  At all!  Which is the first time since we made the decision to get a dog that I didn't climb into bed and break into uncontrollable and turbulent sobs.  Progress, people.  Progress.)