A Tale of Two Puppies

I've written here before about bad bunnies, but this post is about bad puppies.  Rachel and Joseph are hereby publicly named as the perpetrators of various puppy shenanigans, mischievous deeds and all around naughtiness.

The two do-badders are in cahoots in their mayhem making merriment.  Joseph opens the door to the backyard and Rachel follows close behind.  Then the pair heads out to find fun in the form of  T-R-O-U-B-L-E.

Digging holes together is a favorite pastime which is made all the more pleasurable with the addition of water.  This pastime becomes even more delightful (say it ain't so!) if the holes are dug in big sister Grace's garden. Taking siblings' favorite toys outside and losing and/or destroying them is another much loved amusement.

Thinking you were going to partake of the nice big newly ripened blackberries yourself?  Think again. Rachel and Joseph have beaten you to those juicy, dark orbs of sweetness.  Playing in the sprinklers, chasing chickens together and running through the one acre yard with Daddy's tools (and dropping them wherever) makes puppies very, very thirsty.

So Joseph and Rachel come back inside to quench their thirst.  Joseph usually gets to the bowl first. That's right.  He lays on his stomach and laps up water from the doggy bowl.  He's gotten in trouble for this enough that he has recently employed a new tactic.  He'll grab a cup from the table and fill it himself from the water cooler.  Water, more often than not, ends up all over the floor.  Then he'll drink what he wants and pour the remainder of his cup into the dog's bowl.  How thoughtful of him.

When the partners in crime have completed their dastardly deeds (at least for the day), they fall asleep together on the couch.  Bad puppiness always leads to puppy crash and burn.

More Farm Time

Our family got a much need change of pace this past weekend.  We headed to my Uncle Keith and Aunt Leanna's farm, our happy place.

The boys rode their bikes all over Small Town, USA.  They also got to go swimming at the local pool.  Grace and I gawked at a huge, lovely organic garden and were gifted some beautiful organic produce. Matt got up at four one morning to help Uncle Keith do some swathing.  He also got started reading World Magazine's book of the year called The Book of Strange New Things.

Paul got to play a round of golf with Grandpa Tom.  We enjoyed several al fresco meals and unhurried after dinner conversations in the ideal upper 80s temps.  Elizabeth put some more hours on her driving log.  Thankfully, Matt has handled most of the driver's ed so far.  I'm working up to it in small doses.

In addition, the boys enjoyed picking giant radishes from Uncle Keith's garden, fishing (even though they didn't get any bites) and pretending to drive farm equipment.  Rachel ate a dead bird.  She was rewarded with the forced throw up treatment.

On the way back home, we stopped in a town which is home to a famous knife maker.  My uncle had arranged a meeting between Paul and this man.  For Paul, this was like meeting Russell Wilson.  He spent two hours with the knife maker, looking over all of his equipment and hanging on every word he said.  Paul left the meeting with the man's e-mail address and orders to send any questions he might have about knife making his way.

While Matt and Paul were with the knife maker, I took the kids to the local park to eat lunch (kindly provided by my aunt and uncle).  We were down four family members.  Matt and Paul, of course, were with knife man and we had left Elizabeth and Joel back on the farm to spend a few extra days. It was really weird for all of us to fit at the same picnic table.  I kept looking around thinking, "This isn't right.  Who's missing?"

After lunch, the kids played on the play ground equipment.  Jude's deplorable lack of monkey bar know-how prompted me to "show him how it's done."  Pride goeth before a fall.  Let's just say the monkey bars aren't as easy as they were thirty five years ago and my still hurting shoulder proves that fact.

Once we arrived home in the late afternoon, we hit the ground running.  Paul changed irrigation water lines for the neighbor, Grace gave all of the boys haircuts, I unpacked and put together a simple supper of sauteed squash and leftover sandwiches and Lydia gave her bees some attention.  We all fell into bed exhausted that night.  Another fun time on the farm was had by all.

When It Rains, It Pours

I've spent the last three weekends in the ER.  My mom has hit a rough patch which we're doing our best to get past, but the result has been a couple of ER visits and hospital admissions.  Mom is living in our town now, so I'm doing taxi service to her different doctor appointments (that is when she's not in the hospital).  Mom's being here is only temporary, until her caregiver is able to return to work.

I was so tickled I'd gotten through this past weekend without a visit to the ER.  You know that saying about counting your chickens?  Halfway through church on Sunday, Lydia told me she was ill.  I took her to the bathroom, quizzed her about her symptoms, then decided I should take her home.

She was flushed, nauseous, experiencing stomach cramps and was very listless.  She had been stung by one of her bees that morning, but I didn't think her symptoms were related to the sting--until I got Dr. Google involved.  I quickly gave Lydia some Benedryl, then we loaded up and headed to the ER. Yep, third weekend in a row.  Once there, Lydia's symptoms began to subside enough that after 45 minutes I decided to abort the mission.  Another day in the ER didn't sound appealing to me, so we just continued with the Benedryl every four hours at home. Lydia's pediatrician has prescribed her a Epipen and a trip to the allergist.

Add to that a handful of crayons in the dryer with ALL of my tops (I used this recipe to fix the problem--it took 2 times), Matt's vehicle breaking down on the way to work last week (thankfully,I was already in town, so I was able to pick him up), our AC pump giving out last Friday night (hey!  it's only been in the triple digits here for over 2 weeks), multiple visits to the dermatologist with Liz to get a rash on her leg taken care of (it's only been 6 mos.) and Paul's Scout Master dying of cancer--well, I've nearly gone and lost my mind.  Plus the dog chewed up 2 of my favorite shoes, but not from the same pair.

Thank the Lord I have faithful friends who text me, pray for me and are merciful enough to tell me I'm not going crazy.

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 2 Cor. 4:16-18

P.S.--The crayon incident was discovered as I was hurriedly searching for something, anything (we were late) to put on my body before taking the kids to swimming lessons one morning last week.  Once my hot, sweaty, anxiety-ridden self arrived at swimming lessons, Matt texted me to say he was having his car towed and could I please pick him up?   Also, the AC is actually still running. Matt rigged up a temporary bucket catching condensation solution until the new pump is delivered from Amazon.  So, no, we haven't been suffering from the heat too much.  Otherwise this post would, indeed, have been written from Crazy Town. (I've been vacationing there, but have not yet taken up permanent residence.)