Angel Wheeler

One tough camera

For nearly 9 years a disposable camera has been cruising with me in my car. A disposable camera all filled up with mystery pictures of which I can’t remember taking. What? you say. Nine years?!?!?! It’s short of a miracle I know. Never mind that I’ve had a car for 9 years, 12 to be exact, and I’m pretty proud that I’ve had a vehicle for 12 years in this day and age, but the fact that I am so huge of a procrastinator that I haven’t had filmed developed in 9 years is mind-boggling, no?

How many times in the past 9 years have I been to “The Walmarts”? To CVS? To Walgreens?

It is not due to lack of opportunity that I haven’t taken this camera into a photo lab and had it developed. The opportunity presented itself thousands of times, yet there the camera sat, in the little cubby hole underneath the factory stereo with a cassette player. What you say, is a cassette player? Well, boys and girls after 8 tracks they invented this music recorder called a cassette. You had to make sure you always had a pencil handy too when your cassette player ate your tape and you had to wind it back together…….

But I digress…..

This disposable camera has traveled more than 100,000 miles with me. It has toasted in the triple digit Texas heat locked in a car that a poodle wouldn’t last 5 minutes in, and it has froze in the below zero wind chills of winter.

At this point, there is no point in getting it developed. I am sure the film is ruined. But it is one of the cameras we bought for our wedding nearly 9 years ago and curiosity and maybe a bit of motivation got the best of me. Secretly I was hoping there might be a picture of my dad tucked away waiting to be unearthed.

I got a wild hair and took the camera to “The Walmarts” not knowing if they even still developed film the old-fashioned way. I had to ask an associate, a young girl, who looked at me as if my face had gone green, obviously clueless to what I was asking of her, and got an older lady associate to help me find the dillymebob where I drop film off. Using the word dillymebob will often cause people to look at you as if your face has gone green. You should try it.

7-10 days I waited. It’s nothing like 9 years. I actually forgot about it and received a call telling me my film was ready to be picked up.

And there they were. Pictures from 9 years ago. They actually developed if you can believe that. The Panhandle Texas weather aint got nothing on a 35 mm Polaroid disposable camera.

The only wedding pictures happened to be of my sister and I getting our hair fixed for the wedding. The rest were just of life.

Like this one, which I just love. My younger, moustached husband bottle feeding a calf while a sun bleached Ash sits astraddle. The look on her face is priceless.

Here’s my sister, who probably is going to kill me. She’s smiling big, isn’t she pretty? I’m not sure whether she was sun bleached or just bleached, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her blonde.

My mom who despises getting her picture taken, but in my opinion, there’s just not enough pictures of her floating out there on the internet, and this one is good.

Then there were dune buggy riding, 4 wheeler riding, and ballet dancing pictures as well. Most things I don’t remember even occurring.

I’m glad I have these pictures to remind me.

The Hummers

I overheard them talking in the doctor’s office a few weeks ago.

You need to get ready for them.

They’re here.

We saw some at our place yesterday.

Hummingbirds.

So I heeded their advice and went to The Walmarts to buy a couple of feeders. I googled how to make sugar water (4 parts water to 1 part sugar), and I filled my feeders and hung them on the patio.

I doubted they would come. Just because I doubt most good things will come in my life. It’s a huge weakness in my character. But lo and behold, as Emma Kate and I were outside enjoying the day, the dogs, and the chickens, they came. They did! Two of them hummed their way over to the feeders and got a drink.

I was thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. I ran to get my camera and of course, as in the way things happen, they flitted away to the trees. I could still hear them tweeting and buzzing around, but they wouldn’t come to the feeders again.

I waited and waited and waited. Some might find waiting on the hummingbirds tedious and boring, their minds filled with a laundry list of to-do’s that they would rather be doing, but the simplicity of the afternoon overtook me and as I waited on the hummingbirds, I sat in the sun and let it warm me all the way to my insides. There’s something healing about a little sunshine warming the innermost.

I watched my darling daughter play in the animal’s drinking water. We have a waterer for the chickens and a big bowl for the dogs, but they don’t seem to understand the distinction, so the dogs drink after the chickens and the chickens drink after the dogs, and Emma Kate drinks after both. It’s good for the immune system I say.

She got pine needles and dunked them through the water and sucked the moisture off, she splashed, and she laughed. And the laughter from a little child on a sunshiny spring day is music to the ears.

She herded chickens and hugged them from behind and Grace, our heeler dog, herded right along with her. Ever vigilant to protect Emma from chicken danger. Meanwhile, Drew, who’s a couple milkbones short of a full box, chewed on a pink bone and didn’t ever once feel his manhood threatened. Real dogs chew pink bones.

And finally as the day drew to a close, and the sun dipped behind the house, and the shadows grew longer, I got a halfway decent picture of a hummingbird. But my true treasure is the several decent pictures I got of a simple day in the backyard that soothed and healed my soul.

A Post Where I Make Fun of my Niece and All Teenagers In General

I have a teenager in my home. She’ll turn 14 in about 2 weeks.

Just in case, you don’t have a teenager in your home, let me tell you what these strange creatures do.

If they have any type of electronic device, they spend hours taking self portraits (selfies) with various faces, and posting them on social media sites near and far. They are then to be “liked” and obviously the more likes you get taking pictures of yourself, with various faces, the greater the intrinsic reward. I know this to be true, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.

The teenager who lives in my home is away visiting her grandmother right now.

Today she got a haircut.

And I got a picture text, of course.

A selfie, of course. Along with the text, “What do you think of the haircut?”

I actually received two pictures. She’s got to show all angles.

It’s a beautiful haircut. She is a beautiful girl.

But what is with these faces?

We’ve talked about it before.

me: Why don’t you just smile, you know like normally?

her: that is my smile.

me: really? you raise your eyebrows and do your lips like that when you smile?

her: yeah. See? {click. another selfie}

Today, after receiving her picture texts, my husband and I immediately began making jokes.

J-Dub thinks she looks like she’s sitting on the toilet, although that’s not exactly his choice of words, when she raises her eyebrows and strains her face all up.

And then there’s the pucker, the “duck lips” as I’ve heard them called.

So, we decided to text her back and tell her we thought her hair was beautiful. We also asked what she thought of Jason’s hair in these couple of shots.

Oh my, we were laughing. I don’t know how he kept his pose or how I kept the camera from totally blurring we were laughing and snorting so hard. Tears were flowing down my cheeks which isn’t hard to do when I get truly tickled.

EK was all up in our business during this charade.

She thought she needed to have some duck lips too.

Just in case I needed a reminder that she will be a teenager one day too.

And already playing the part.

The Dress

This is EK’s Easter dress that I finished today.

That is, if “finished” means taking 2 safety pins and pinning up the neck where it was too big.

No, you don’t need to tell me that Easter was yesterday.

Or that she didn’t wear it to church because

1) it wasn’t finished

2) we didn’t go to church.

Anyway, I’m super proud of this dress, even though it lacks perfection or completion for that matter. My mother would be proud too that I even lined up the chevron stripes on the sides. It is a pattern I bought from adelaideoriginal.com She has the cutest dresses that she makes, but at nearly $50 a pop, I just can’t do that. But she did release a pattern for one of her dresses so I snatched it up.

I am a very beginner sewer and this did involve a technique I’d never tried before, so it was a bit frustrational on my part.

It has an extra long hem, and the way the neck and sleeves fit, I think she’ll be able to wear it for a few years. So that makes me happy. And I had fun! My sister gave me the material and it was exciting watching it come together and picking the color and designing the flower on the sash.

It’s perfect for Spring and hopefully she’ll get to wear it out soon, without the safety pins in the neckline!!

Dying Eggs

I told myself to chill. I told myself to give up the mommy control. That this whole Easter egg dying thingiemajigger is about the process, the experience, not the end product.

I think it might have been one of the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

You know how in your mind, everything works out? You plan. You think. You attempt to avoid catastrophes.

I had it under control. Sort of. I put her in play clothes. I planned to go outside. She was to sit on a towel. I had my camera ready. All the supplies were ready to go. The glasses were heavy as not to be knocked over easily. I had a whisk ready to hold the egg all neat and tidy. I had my almost 14 year old niece to assist (ha!). I was relaxed. I was ready. Sort of.

And then we started making the egg dye water and Emma Kate got the food coloring open when I turned my back for maybe 2 minutes to consult the directions. (If you know me at all, you know I am not a whiz in the kitchen and yes, I need directions to color water).

I told myself that wasn’t a big deal. It would wear off. Just keep calm and color eggs. So with Ash’s help, we got the glasses of colored water ready, we got the camera, we got the towel, the eggs, the whisk, the carton, oh and don’t forget the baby, does somebody have the baby? We went out to a sunshiny spot in the yard.

And that’s when I no longer had it under control. EK didn’t sit on the towel calmly like my mind told me she would. She didn’t use the whisk like it was intended. She stood and she chunked eggs in glasses with the force of a major league ball pitcher. Water splashed, she oohed and aahed, she reached in with both hands, grabbing eggs out of water cups, cramming them on top of other eggs in other cups, taking cracked, shattered eggs and breaking them apart like she was ready to scramble them up. She cheered herself on, throwing them down when she was done, picking them up again, wet and covered in grass and dirt, putting them in her mouth.

Okay, okay, I repeated to myself. Everything’s okay, I tried reassuring myself as I tried taking pictures of this train wreck while avoiding a standing baby falling on top of the glasses, squatting and knocking things over, all the while my “assistant” Ashlynn decided to bring out nail polish and paint her eggs literally, and just to be sure that you know, nail polish has no appeal to a baby!!!! Hahahahaha!

We ended up with a cracked, shattered mess of muckledydunn eggs, nail polish on our hands, clothes, and mouth, grass and dirt debris galore, and an experience. The jury is still out on whether or not it was a good experience.

I know what she learned, however. She learned whenever she sees an egg, and remember we have chickens, if she ever gets her hands on it, she will slam it into the ground like a ball.

And it will all be okay, (trying to convince myself).

What Crazy Must Feel Like

There are three days left in the month of March. I haven’t blogged all month. I won’t even pretend to act like I’m not aware of that. Every day I say to myself, “I need to blog. I want to blog. I wish I could blog.” When I don’t blog, it’s not the same in my world.

I’ve had a super busy month and I’ve had a super case of anxiety of which I can’t explain.

I found myself in the bathtub at 3:00 a.m. the other night, unable to sleep, tormented when I found sleep by my dreams of fighting for my life, awakening to the feeling of the bed floating while I lay under my blue and white comforter, but at the same time I was looking down from outer space onto the sphere of the earth with all the blues and greens, and seeing myself lying on my bed, and my bed being lifted off the world, right off the continent of North America, into the dark abyss of the unknown where I would be hurled and spin out of control with no way of reaching my bedroom again.

And then I was being pumped up, like an exercise ball. Puff, puff, puff. With every puff of air I became a little head and two little arms and legs on a huge round body. Like that blueberry-gum chewing girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I wrapped my arms around my literal self to convince my mind it wasn’t happening, but couldn’t. I was going to explode. I was a humongous bubble. Any puff might be the one that stretches the limit and causes the explosion. But instead of the fruit of goodness, kindness, patience, love, joy, peace, and gentleness that should burst forth were I to explode, there would be anger, rage, resentment and jealousy and all the ugly things that fill me. I imagined all the onlookers, all the ones who know me, standing in my bedroom gawking at the aftermath of my demise. Staring as the ugly insides of me oozed down the wall and dripped from the ceiling. They wouldn’t find a drop of goodness, not even a drop of blueberry juice. Wow, they would think. How could one person be filled with all that ugliness.

The beginning of crazy, I thought. This is the beginning of me losing my ever loving mind. This must be what crazy people feel like. I saw myself a bag lady, pushing my shopping cart, wearing three coats in summer, with six cats piled on my shoulders and head, mumbling to myselves. And then I began to worry about who will take care of my baby if I lose my mind, which caused more anxiety. So I got out of bed and I did some normal things. I took a bath, then I did a load of laundry, and sat on the couch drinking hot mint tea while the rest of my house slumbered in peaceful darkness oblivious to the lunatic living inside the same four walls. And I recited the scripture, “For you have not been given a spirit of fear, but one of power, and love, and a sound mind.” A Sound Mind! A SOUND mind. A sound MIND. I recited it over and over. I have a sound mind. The Peace of God filled me, held me, and calmed me.

Then I blamed my craziness on my supper not settling well, too much gas and bloat, and I got a grip. And finally I went back to bed knowing I don’t ever want to experience that again, but it wasn’t a total waste. At least I got a load of laundry done.

List 10 things you would tell your 16 year-old self, if you could

This is question number 4 on my list of 30 things my kids should know about me.

What 10 things would I tell my 16 year old self. Oh my. I wish I could visit her. Deep down I think she was sweet, but she was flirting much too often with rebellion, sowing wild oats, trying desperately to figure out her place in the world in which she lived and using way too much hairspray.

I would sit her down if I could and somehow I would snap her out of her “I know all” attitude, and the idea that grown ups were dopes and I would tell her a thing or two. 1. Starting off I’d tell her that doing bad things doesn’t make you look cool. That smoking cigarettes, drinking, drugs, going to parties, breaking curfew, sneaking out, and hooking up with boys is not the way to make friends. People don’t think good of you, and if they do, they’re not the people to be hanging around with. Instead, it actually tarnishes you, steals from you, and makes you not like yourself either. The people you are associating with now, you won’t be associating with in 10, 20 years, so stop trying to impress them. Instead find a hobby. Pick up a camera and capture the world and people around you, write a story—you have a beautiful imagination, do a good deed for your grandmother without her having to ask you. That is what is cool.

2. Then I’d let her know that she doesn’t know a thimbleful of what she thinks she does. And the idea of needing to be pretty is from the world, which just so happens to have it all wrong. But that the word of God says beauty fades and charm is deceiving but a woman who fears the Lord, she is to be praised, the Bible also says the fear of the Lord is the beginning of all wisdom. So love the Lord, and gain wisdom for it is not fancy hair, gold jewelry, or fine clothes that should make you beautiful. No, your beauty should come from within you — the beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit that will never be destroyed and is very precious to God. Work on that instead. How awesome would it be instead of having “you’re so pretty, to a gorgeous girl, stay cool” written in your yearbook, what if instead it said, “you have a beautiful spirit, I appreciate your gentle soul”.

3. Along with the world having it all wrong about how we look on the outside, don’t let society pressure you into the status quo. In a couple of years, you’ll be reading the Lifestyle section of the local paper, and you’ll notice that your classmates will all be getting married, or so it will seem. Then they will start families, and you’ll read the birth announcements. You’ll feel jealousy. You’ll feel disappointment. And it doesn’t come from inside you, but only because you think that’s what the world expects from you: to get married and have children. But you are not in a competition with anyone. This isn’t a race to see who can get married and have babies fastest. Go at your own pace. Don’t feel pressure to do what every other girl you’re age is doing. Because, you know what? A lot of those marriages won’t last, and so settle down about that and discover who you are and what you love to do, not who you need to be with.

4. And while you’re out looking for a life mate, stay away from the bad boys. I know you have a tendency to be attracted to them, but it’s merely physical. Remember beauty fades, and charm is deceiving. See those nerdy, geeky guys? The ones you’ve rejected? The ones you think aren’t “cool”? Well, Angel baby they have their heads screwed on straight. Find yourself a Jesus follower too. Someone who will love you and be devoted to you in the way that Jesus loves you. The long hair and tattoos may appeal to you now, but don’t be a fool for the long run. Look past the outward appearance and look to the heart. This will save you much heartbreak.

5. You haven’t been many places away from your hometown and your daddy’s hometown. But know this….there is a great big world out there. Yes, it’s good to be close to family, but go explore the world while you’re young and able. There are people to meet, cultures to experience, food to try, places to see. Go do it. Don’t think you need to be tied down to your hometown. You can rise above your circumstances. You can do all things with Christ.

6. But while you’re out there seeing the world, don’t forget to appreciate the people in your life. Spend time with your parents. This time will pass quickly, and they really are remarkable people you’ll learn someday. Write down your grandmother’s stories. Write down your parents’ stories. Write down your own stories. I know you think you are young and you won’t forget, but you will. Have your picture made with you parents and your grandmothers, your brothers and your sister. Get to know them. They are the ones who love you the most. They are the ones who will help you when you need it. They are who will support you in your dreams. Tell them you love them, and it wouldn’t hurt to tell them thanks as well.

7. Quit mooching and learn to do things for yourself. You know, like your laundry! And make your own bed! Fix your own breakfast, stuff like that. You aren’t a princess and you’re going to need to know how to do that kind of stuff very soon. Quit taking advantage of other’s kindness. Learn how to clean house. Learn how to cook good food. Spend some time in the kitchen, cook for others, make your grandmother’s bed instead of the other way around. Ask people to show you things, learn from them, then you will have confidence in your abilities. Learn from your elders and treat them right. They know much more than you.

8. Right now, Angel, you are young, you are pretty, you are resilient, and flexible, but you won’t always be young forever. It will happen….your body will age. Your knees will hurt, your joints will ache, your hair will gray, you’re going to get a real severe wrinkle right between your eyes from frowning so often. So take care of your body while you still can and smile! You only get one body, and it needs to last. Treat it right. Only put good things into it. Give it rest, but work it hard so it doesn’t grow lazy. Find a balance, strive to be healthy.

9. It’s always good to have a nest egg. Save money. But don’t be greedy. Again, find a balance. No, that’s the world talking. On second thought, be more generous. You’re too stingy as it is. If you see someone in need, help them. You’ll reap what you sow. It’s better to give than receive. You’ll probably never be rich in wealth, but you’ll have what you need. And it’s just money anyway.

10. There will be hard times in your life. At the time, you will think they are terrible times. But you will look back on them years down the road, and they won’t seem so hard anymore. Time passes quickly sister, so do good in the world. Don’t be self-centered. Don’t always think of yourself, how you can get ahead, how situations are going to affect you. It’s hard not to, but truth is, it’s not about you. The world doesn’t revolve around you. Look around, see others, see their hardships, see their pain, love them and I mean really love them…. with actions, not merely words. Put others before yourself. You won’t be a door mat if you do, you’ll be Christ-like and by doing so, you’ll not only bring Glory to God, but you’ll bring others to God through your actions. For these three remain, faith,hope, and love and the greatest of these is love.

It’s a sweet life you live, Angel. You have great rewards ahead of you, just you wait and see. Enjoy it. It’s much too short not to.

Am I worthy of a ‘hello, nice to meet you?’

I’m ranting.

Not just because I’m mad, but because I’m sad too. Anger and tears. That’s what happens to me. First I get angry, and then I cry and then I get angrier that I’m crying, and then I cry harder, which makes me more angry. Aaarrrggghhhh!

I have such a high tolerance too. I rarely get mad, so I have to sort this out in my mind. Why am I so mad? Or am I really hurt? Yes that’s it, I’m hurt. If my friend were sitting on my bed with me right now she would remind me that anger is a peacock emotion. In other words, anger shows itself while a different emotion is being hidden. One of those hidden emotions is hurt.

I have just been treated so rudely by someone in the educational field, a professional I dare call him, and I’ll use that term loosely. Blatant, out and out, rudeness. Offensive. Treated as if I were nothing. A nobody. My niece’s teacher would not look up from his computer to simply say hello when my niece wanted me to meet him. As I introduced myself, I got a hmmmm hmmmm in response, right along with a “I’ve got a conference at 3:30”. He didn’t stand, he didn’t say hello, he didn’t extend his hand, he didn’t even look me in the eye.

I am an outsider here. I am reminded of it all too often. My self worth and self confidence is at an all time low for whatever reason, and for someone to not acknowledge that I exist, that I am standing in the same room, that I am a human being with a beating heart, well quite honestly, he waylaid me. I have been drop-kicked in the gut.

Am I unworthy to be spoken to. No, that’s ridiculous. I feel so silly to allow someone to make me feel this low. Yet, I do.

This is a feeling I don’t think I have ever experienced before IN MY LIFE. A feeling of complete unworth. And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Which causes me to question, have I ever treated someone else like this? Even unconsciously? I hope not. I hope I have never made anyone, be it a parent at school, a relative, a clerk at the convenience store, a classmate from high school, or a beggar on the corner feel as if they were nothing, as if they didn’t matter, as if they were unimportant. But the truth is, I have. I’m sure I have. Even though I can’t recall it, they remember it. How could someone forget. It hurts too deeply.

So, what will I do? Will I fire off a scathing email to him like I want, and then visit his principal and tattle on him, like I want?

No I won’t.

Will I tell my husband through my tears what happened and beg him to go beat him up, like I want?

No I won’t.

Will I find out where he lives and throw a roll of toilet paper through his tree branches and then egg his car?

Maybe I will do that.

No, I won’t.

Instead I’ll remind myself of who I actually am. I’ll thank my God that He has made me HIS CHILD, that I am a daughter of THE ALMIGHTY KING, that I am HIGHLY FAVORED, that God DELIGHTS in me, that He SINGS over me, that I am LOVED so very much that God himself would robe himself in flesh, remain sinless, yet die a gruesome death for me. FOR ME. I am WORTH that much to Him. Unworthy to be spoken to by a teacher, maybe I am, but to God I am SOMEBODY. Because of that, I will lift my head, I will wipe my tears, and I will remember that everyone (including that teacher) is worthy of a smile, a kind word, a simple hello. I will strive to be a better person who treats everyone I meet with dignity and respect, regardless of how busy I am, what kind of day I’m having, or whether I had my coffee that morning. What a humbling experience I’ve had today, and what a reminder and a lesson I have learned.

If I have ever made you feel bad about yourself, please forgive me. Please know it was not intentional. Please know I did not intend to hurt you.

Sending you my cyber hug,

Angel

Today, I’m remembering my dad. I hope that’s alright with you.
It’s been 2 years, probably about this time exactly, that he died.
I miss him. A lot. Some days it hurts, and other days are just days like every other one before.
There’s a lot of good in this world, we shouldn’t dwell in sadness, so I’m reposting this blog from a couple of years ago. It makes me smile. Hope you do too.

Angel Wheeler

Today, I’m remembering my dad. I hope that’s alright with you.
It’s been 2 years, probably about this time exactly, that he died.
I miss him. A lot. Some days it hurts, and other days are just days like every other one that has come before.
There’s a lot of good in this world, we shouldn’t dwell in sadness, so on a sad day, I’m reposting this blog from a couple of years ago. It makes me smile. Hope you do too.

This is a repost. It’s about my dad. It’s bits and pieces from his emails, all compiled into one.

Ignore the punctuation and spelling, because he does too.

Even though you may not have known him, he was good at his job, so listen to him.

About Exercise:

“i’m really enjoying it, although i’m sooo tired by the end of the week. hope i can stay focused and…

View original post 637 more words

A day in the backyard with 5 chickens and two dogs

Today the weather is agreeable. The skies are a cobalt blue with an occasional fluffy cumulus cloud in the distance. The wind is slight. It’s still chilly enough to need a coat, but when you find a good place to sit in the sun, your insides begin to warm and your heart smiles.

As does your mouth. Me and little britches went outside to enjoy it for a while. The chickens were making an awful ruckus earlier in the day and I thought we’d better scout for eggs in case they’re laying willy nilly as they are prone to do.

In case you’re new here, my backyard is home to 5 wonderful chickens, two dogs and an occasional visit by me and my girl, EK.

That’s Drew, wanting his belly rubbed. It’s a dog’s life.

The dogs are sweet, albeit a bit rambunctious. And EK is a bit leery of their wagging tails, licking tongues, and overall ambitious nature.

Our girl dog, Grace, is a heeler/shepherd. A tad on the hyper side, a herder of all chickens, and may I add that she also is in heat. It’s important to the story, trust me.

She loves Emma. She just doesn’t understand her boundaries.

She wants to love on her but outweighs her by about 25 pounds.

Emma is always glad to see the dogs, as long as she’s in someone’s arms, safe and protected. I set her on the ground and told those dogs NO, and allowed the morning to progress. Drew is content chewing on a stick but Grace wants to see EK up close and personal and Emma was happy to see her.

Right until Grace rolled over on her back begging for a belly rub, bumped Emma and made her fall down. I of course, did my parental duty and ran right over to brush away the tears and scold the dog, but not before I snapped a picture or two. Not to worry, she was unscathed.

Time passed. A chicken wandered over, Grace followed.

Emma fretted, but was relieved when Grace herded the chicken along and ignored the need for a belly rub.

It’s okay, Emma. It’s ok.

Later, a new dog entered our backyard through a bad spot in the fence. A small black, high jumping dog.

We had gone inside but spotted him through the window. Was he after the chickens?

Nope. Just Grace.

We (as in J-Dub) ran him off twice, then we (as in J-Dub) fixed the bad spot in the fence.

Who knows. In a few months, the backyard may be home to five wonderful chickens, two dogs, and a passel of puppies.

All wanting their bellies rubbed.

Authors note: I started this post when EK was asleep, then she woke up and sat in my lap here at the computer. I showed her the pictures and she said “Emma” “bock, bock” “Drew” and when she saw Grace she said, “NO, NO, NO”. And then “night night”. She’s so precious.