Don't Call Me If The End Times Come

Did y'all ever know someone who canned things? Someone who spent hours and days making sure they were ready for the winter with jars and jars of vegetables and pickles and jams?
I have aunts and grandmas and grandma-in-laws (and even friends) who do.
I vividly remember the smell in my house growing up when my mom made homemade pickles.
All those jars and lids and hot water baths... not to mention all the picking and washing and cutting and chopping.

Well that is not me.
I soooo admire the art of storing food, but I am content to ride off to the Mart and spend money on Smuckers.
Don't get me wrong... I LOVE the homemade stuff. It tastes better, and it probably has way less sugar and chemicals.

When we came home from the orchard a few weekends ago, I had a LOAD of apples, so I got the bright idea to make apple butter in the crock pot.
My sis-in-law has done it a thousand times, and the recipes are all over the internet.

Well.
20 apples and 2 days later, I had myself 2 whole jars.



Don't be jealous.
There are calluses on my hand from all that peeling.
I am happy I did it, and it IS yummy.
But my word. The labor and the payoff did not equal out.

I'll be rationing this stuff out like it's liquid gold. If you come over to our house for breakfast, do not expect to get free reign on the apple butter jar.
And, if the apocalypse is coming, you may want to find another place to stay.

Do You Have Your Costume Ready?

You only have a few days left to get that Halloween costume together.

Our cat?
She's going as a shower curtain.



I love that she thinks we can't see her.
She is a master of disguise.

All Things Apple

Two weekends ago, we were at a beautiful cabin in the mountains of Georgia.
I haven't blogged about it yet, because it has taken me some time to return to reality.

My brother and sis-in-law have the sweetest friends who own the most beautiful place in the Georgia mountains, and... they let our rowdy crew spend the weekend there.
(Minus Dan/Dadddy... he was working.)

The view of the river is unbelievable.
I didn't want to come home.



We had a whirlwind Saturday of picking apples and eating apple treats and shooting apples from an apple cannon.

When I say we all took a turn, I mean we all took several turns.






I actually just noticed the "apple cannon assistant's" face in this picture of me taking a shot. Hee hee. He looks worried. (He probably should be.)


After we picked some apples, we bought even more.



These two ate their weight in apples.


Later that day, we went hiking up the Amicalola Falls until I thought my legs were gonna detach themselves from my body in protest and dive off the mountain.

It was such a nice weekend, and as we like to say,
"A good time was had by all."
Truthfully, any time I get to spend getting love from this blue-lipped kiddo is a good time to me.

Chalkboard Confessions III

7 days later, I finally got a reply.

I'm not sure who "Me" is, but I have my suspicions. I don't watch all that crime TV for nothing.

Hey there mysterious "Me" person...
You sure are cute with your skinny purple self and your spiked up hair.
I love you, too.

Down On The Farm

Dan/Daddy's parents were here a few weekends ago, and we had a grand ol' time showing them around town. They were able to watch the boy play football on Saturday, and on Sunday we hauled them off to the Pumpkin Patch.



This place had tons of stuff to do. And they had snacks. My people were quick to vote this farm as "the best pumpkin patch we've ever been to!" It is all about the funnel cake.

We picked some punkins...


We took some funny pictures...
Well hello Farmer Dan!


Is your mama a llama?


Nope. My son is.
(This picture cracks me up.)


Guess what the farmer enticed the pigs with to get them to race? Oreos. Yep. I will run for an Oreo, too.


I am proud to report that our group completed the corn maze in record time. (It was all about the lure of funnel cake.)


Here's me. Doing my best "I am lost in the corn maze!" face.
Or maybe I just heard that the concession barn was all out of funnel cake.
Move over pigs, and pass me some of those Oreos.

Chalkboard Confessions II

Remember my chalkboard confession from a few weeks ago?
Something about a house on the beach and a raise?
I'm still waiting.

But it seems as if I've inspired someone.



"1 hundred dollars" is a lot to a 12 year-old. Well, "1 hundred dollars" is a lot to me, too.

Now that I know someone is actually paying attention in my house, I put this up...


It's been on there for 5 days already.
Stay tuned.

Black Cats, Doctor's Orders, Blood, and Costumes

In case you're wondering, I still haven't "re-done" the front porch, and the uncooperative pumpkin blew over in yesterday's wind.

So here's the latest information in our world:

1. Baby Kitty has a new home. Hallelujah. My sis-in-law's cousin (and her daughter) took her. We had formed quite the bond with her cute little self, so it was hard to see her go. And her name is officially "Foxy" now. How cute is that?

2. Dan/Daddy had a follow-up with the spine doc. Spine Doc is slowly allowing more and more activity, but he gave Dan/Daddy instructions yesterday that I am not too sure about. The doc said that one of the worst things Dan/Daddy can do at this point in his recovery is load or unload the dishwasher.
Really? Really? (I think I smell an over-paid rat here.)
Unloading the dishwasher, dear readers, is one of my least favorite things to do. It's also one of the (few) things Dan/Daddy does. (Go ahead and judge... the housework in this house is NOT equally divided. Now it will be even less so.)
I think there's some kind of "man conspiracy" going on.

3. When I am sitting in the car waiting to pick up the boy from school, I can hear the afternoon announcements on the intercom. Yesterday, this is what I heard:
"Could a custodian please come to the hall by the Music Room? We have a blood spill."
Mercy.
Middle School is a rough place. I know it could have been a nosebleed or a cut hand or any number of non-violent injuries. But, I am the mom of a 12 year-old boy... My mind just goes there.
What's High School gonna be like? Severed limbs?

4. I took the boy to look at Halloween costumes yesterday. For the first time in 10 years, he has no clue what he wants to be on October 31st. We thought walking around in the Halloween store would give him some ideas. Well. Let me just tell you. If you haven't been to a costume store in a while, get ready. It gave him more than ideas... it gave him an adult education. It gave me a headache.
When did Halloween turn into a Playboy Bunny fashion show?
It was one of those moments I pray and thank God for giving me a boy.
I will take fake teeth and scary masks any day over "Sexy Cinderella" and "Show Your Hiney Alice In Wonderland."

Can't we all just get back to the true meaning of the holiday?