Family Pictures

I love pictures.

I have my favorite ones in frames all around my house.

I've shared some of them with you.

When I go to other's homes I love to look at their pictures

and hear about the stories behind them.

I think I prefer snapshots to professional photos.

I believe it's those that tell the stories of our lives.

The other day a lady at work and I were talking.

As it turns out she grew up next to my family.

She and her sisters were often cared for by my great grandmother.

They loved her so much that they continue to call her Mamaw Kiefner.

 She brought me this picture a few days later.

Amanda Kiefner 1969

I barely remember Mamaw.

 I was 5 when she passed away.

  But I love to hear stories about her.

 She was a remarkable woman.

   Kind hearted and gentle.

                                             

                                                                                        

    This picture is priceless to me.

   I'm  so glad that someone took the time to take it that day.

 
 

Weekend In Review.



2005.  Waiting for their gifts that we brought them from Florida.
Josh's expression is priceless.  




This weekend I painted my front door black.

I'm still not sure if I like it.
I read once that people who wear black
are trying to not be noticed.
I wonder what that means about my front door?

I planted impatiens in the flower bed behind the house.

I still haven't done anything with the flower beds in front.

The weeds have taken over.

I should let the goats take care of it.

I did a few hundred loads of laundry

(which may or may not be an exaggeration)

and there's still a pile of clothes in the laundry room floor.

I went to the store and forgot the milk.

Seriously, who forgets the milk?

Josh has called Meghan "Chubby Button" all weekend.

She doesn't like it.

Olivia gave Katie a bath.
But didn't brush her.

Andy and Kaden came over earlier.
They woke me from my nap.
They hadn't been over in awhile.
So I didn't mind.
Even when they got the boys all wired up.
Nephews.



One of the topics that was talked about at church today
was being optimistic.
With that in mind I'm
working on developing good thoughts
for the week ahead.



But, I'm going to bed now.
Because 5 o'clock comes
way. too. early.

Blogger was down yesterday

and somehow my last two posts were gone.

Missing.  Vanished.

So I've reposted them.

Mainly cause I like the kids in them.

Unfortunately I lost the comments that

were left by visitors. 

But I'm glad you stopped by

and left a note.

I love logging on and seeing that someone has left a comment.

(That's one of the best things about blogging.)

I'm working in the garden this weekend

if anyone wants to stop by and help...

Have a good weekend.

Happy Birthday Meghan.

       Today Meghan turns 17. She’s thrilled about it.

        She even set the calendar reminder on my phone.

Pssh.

 As if I wouldn’t remember

 the birth of the child that hurdled me into motherhood.

I love Meghan.

Her birthday this year is bittersweet,

a reminder that she’ll be leaving the nest soon.

But I can’t think about that today because I’ll cry.

 And I don’t feel like crying today.

Last weekend was Meghan’s junior prom.

She went with another couple.

They’ve been best buds since preschool.

 

Once when Meghan was around two,

we were leaving Wal Mart when Meghan said:

“You want to hear a dirty joke?”

Will and I looked at each other mortified

thinking where in the world did she hear a dirty joke?

“Sure.” I said not sure of what I was going to hear.

Just knowing that my precious two year olds mind had forever been polluted.

 “A boy fell in a muddy puddy.”

And with that she fell into a fit of two year old giggles

and leaving this momma

with her first of many mothering moments

  never to be forgotten.

 

Happy Birthday Meghan.



Happy Mother's Day, even if it's late.

I have been a mother for almost half of my life.

It's not exactly what I thought it would be.

Before I had children I had no idea

what it was to love someone else before they

even took a breath.

Before I had children I had no idea

that I would choose to go without something

to provide for them.

Before I had children I had no idea

that they could be precious little angels one minute

and such stinkers the next.

Before  I had children I had no idea

that hugs and kisses from them

really are the best gifts.

Before I had children I had no idea

that being a mother would

change me into a better woman.

Here's just a few of my favorite pictures

of my babies.

Cause even though they're getting big,

they'll always be my babies.

 



Ghetto Queen Goes Green.

It has rained for days, and days, and days.

And days.

The result of which has lead to

a yard that is out of control.

We've found a solution.

Ghetto Queen:  "Did you know the goats are out?"

Hubs:  "No.  Where at?"

Ghetto Queen:  "Back yard.  Looks like the gate is open."

Hubs:  "Huh.  At least they'll take care of the grass."

And that's how you do it Ghetto style.

How to Hunt for Mushrooms.

Spring time in Indiana is a welcomed season.

It's loved for it's warm sunny days,

beautiful spring blossoms,

singing birds,

and

 mushroom season.

Every March hunter's of  morels

descend upon the woods.

Looking for this seasonal delicatessen.

I hunted them as a little girl,

but never ate them.

I haven't decided if I like them or not,

So, I don't hunt them now.

But my family does.

Then I have to cut them up,

throw em in some salt water,

let them soak for awhile,

and finally fry them up.

Or rather have my mother in law

do it.  She's an awesome cook.

Now, even though I don't eat them.

 I do appreciate them.

Mushroom season is short,

 and people around here just can't seem

to get enough of them. 

That's why when I came upon

this scene today I was horrified.

My sweet, innocent, unassuming boy

mutilating these mushrooms!





Now this is where I should tell you that

He had found them in the neighbors yard.

5 of them! They. Were.  Huge!

Something menfolk around here

would have been talking

about for mushroom seasons to come.

I'm not sure if I was more mortified that

he'd taken them from the neighbors yard,

or if it was the way he was

mangling one in his hand and 

tossed it carelessly through 

the fence to the elk and deer. 

It's the second time this year

he's found mushrooms there.

Last week he found 2 or 3.

I gave him a firm warning then.

But judging from his repeat performance

I should have followed it up with the stink eye.

Dad if you're reading this please

stop crying.  He's young.  There's still hope for him.

My son is a mushroom thief.  And a mushroom mangler.

I wonder what kind of time he'd do if convicted?