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?

Starbucks Cake Pops.

Do you know what this is?

Well, I'll tell you.

It's a birthday flavored cake pop from Starbucks.

Heaven On a Stick.  That's what it is.

I love them.

They're life altering, the glass is half full delights!

I owe my new found addiction to Sherry.

It's all her fault.

She brings them to me at work.

She feels they have magical powers.

Keep the world in orbit.

Go get a cake pop.

Just in case your worried,

calories don't count

when something has

the potential to be eaten in one bite.

But don't do that.

It wouldn't be right.

**Starbucks has no idea who I am and has not compensated me in any

way.  In fact, I've only been to Starbucks a couple of times for hot chocolate

and so it's likely that they will never know me.

  

Happy Easter.

I'm not always as vocal as I would like to be about my faith.

I tend to sit quietly by and assume that others

know what I believe because of the way that I live my life.

I just couldn't do that this year.

This little blog is mainly seen by my close family and friends,

and I just wanted to share with each of you

the love that I have for Jesus Christ.

I believe in Him.

I believe that He loves me.

I believe that He died for me

and for you.

Someday, I hope to be able to

live with Him again.

I hope each of us takes the chance to get to know Him better.

Happy Birthday Sue.

Happy Belated Birthday.

Thanks for being there.

And sharing your recipes,

your wisdom,

and your love.

Happy Birthday Owen.

Owen just had a birthday.

He's the only child that we didn't know his gender before he was born.
I was sure he was going to be a girl.
I was wrong.
The first few moments after his birth
when Dr. Wrenn announced
"It's a boy!"
I was a little disappointed.

Then he placed him in my arms.
And I was smitten.

And I have been ever since.

I love this boy.
Happy Birthday Owen.

Grateful.



Owen, age 4.  Sleeping in his boots.


Spring storms swept through Indiana last night.

At about midnight.

It was a rude awakening.

The wind was fierce.

Reaching speeds up to 60 mph.

I said a prayer and asked Heavenly Father

to keep us safe and those that I love too.

We made the kids come downstairs and sleep with us.

Arms and legs were everywhere.

Meghan kept mumbling in her sleep.

But I didn't care.

Because when I woke up

my babies were safely sleeping beside me.

And thats all that really matters.

yes that really does matter alot owen wrote this hahaha!!!!! i love my mom yes i do how bout u!!!!hi

The Brady Bunch.



or maybe not.



The boys wrestling in 2007. 



When I first sat down tonight

I wanted to write something

inspiring and uplifting.

But I'm just not feeling it.

This is not one of those feel good posts.

And this is why.

                

My kids have fought all night.

                                              They've argued over everything under the sun.

Here's some of the things they've argued about tonight:

Who hit who while playing basketball in their bedroom.

         

          

The dinner plans for Owen's birthday.

 Whose stuff was left in the floor and why they shouldn't have to pick it up.

Olivia blabbed to all the world that Meghan got hair extensions.

(Well, she blabbed it to everyone at church, I'm blabbing to all the world.)

 And apparently no one knows how to shred the cheese.  Cut it, but not shred it.

( And that's all I'm gonna say about that.)

Somebody was shanked.

And someone doesn't know how to speak proper english.

One fight even lead to serious threats of bodily harm.

                                

I tuned out all of the other arguments.

It's a defense mechanism.

I've got it down to a fine art.

The next bit of useful info should be a

 public service announcement

provided by one of my dear, sweet, children

whose name rhymes with Sosh.

"If you do squats your hips will be smaller."

And now we know why the Old Lady in a Shoe whipped

them all soundly and sent them to bed.