Growth Spurt!

Wow, talk about a growth spurt...K has grown THREE INCHES since school started. She began preschool this year at 37 inches. We measured her this weekend at 40 inches. Holy Moly!

No wonder she's been complaining about her feet, knees, legs, and hips hurting. All of a sudden, her size 3 pants are inches too short (but still waaaay too big in the waist). I just bought jeans over Labor Day weekend, 2 very cute / hip pairs from Old Navy (I like Old Navy kids because they tend to fit kind of slim). That was six weeks ago and they now come just a little over half-way up her butt. I also just purchased 4 pairs of "foot jammies" as K calls them. You know, those warm, fuzzy, footed blanket sleepers? They were all a size 4 & I thought we'd skate through all winter and well into the spring with them. WRONG! A few nights ago, we notice her shoulders and feet are just about to burst right through the seams.

So, now I have a dilema of finding pants in a size 5 length with a size 2 waist! How am I going to keep clothes on this little toothpick...?

Blueberry Pudding

I woke up this morning craving my Grandma Jeanne's blueberry pudding (which was really more like a cake). I don't keep blueberries on hand and it's unreasonable to "run" to the store 30 miles away to see if they have them. So, I settled for blueberry muffins...out of a box. Hardly what I was after, that's like comparing hotdogs to T-bones, but it sort of satisfied the craving. Sort of...

I seriously started thinking about it and searched through my cook books. I found it, the recipe for GJ's blueberry pudding! I know my cuz has talked about GJ's blueberry pudding, but it's worth mentioning again. You had to eat it HER way the first time you tried it, and as disgusting as it looked, I'm sure many people adopted her way as their way once they tasted it. You had to spread some butter on top, sprinkle with sugar, then pour some cream or milk over the top. We called it "Grandma Jeanne's Mess" and what a wonderful mess it was! I wish I had committed it to memory the last time I had GJ's Mess with my grandparents. I miss them.

Maybe I'll make GJ's Mess for Thanksgiving. Of course, I will insist they try it GJ's way first...

Mother - Daughter Bonding

My Mom came out Friday morning to visit me & K. She brought a "surprise" for us to see. I had accidentially figured it out the day before while talking to her on the phone, but I promised not to tell K. She'd been looking for a puppy all spring & summer, but just hadn't found "the one". She finally found "the one" a couple of weekends ago, but wanted to surprise us by just showing up with her. K was thrilled to meet grandma's new puppy, a St. Bernard she named Bandit (as a tribute to another Saint we loved for a short time many years ago).

After getting acquainted with the new puppy, mom wanted to do a little target shooting. She's preparing for her concealed carry exam and wanted to practice. Poor thing, she lives in the city, so she doesn't have the luxury of stepping out her door and shooting any time she pleases...she actually has to *travel* somewhere (gasp!). We, on the other hand, have the "spare" picnic table set up as part of our permanent rifle range!

Of course, K came along with us. She has her very own "ear muffins" that we got for her, special order. They're just her size and exactly what she picked out. She likes to follow us around picking up the "empties". We were just shooting .22s, which cannot be reloaded, but her service is helpful for dad. He reloads almost everything we shoot.

Anyway, about half-way through a box of shells, my mom stops shooting, laughs a little, and says, "You know, nothing brings a mother an daughter together like shooting the crap out of a paper man!". I had to laugh, too. She's right, it's not every day that three generations of women get together for target practice. I'm sure she'll pass her test. She landed plenty of shots right in the family jewels! I blasted away at his head & chest, so I'm sure, between the two of us, we killed the creep.

Yep, nothing like a little mother - daughter bonding.

The Pig Sale

Last Saturday, we trekked almost 200 miles to sell pigs. Yes, it sounds crazy, but the price is so much better going to this particular sale barn, it's worth the trip. We were running late and almost missed the hog sale, but they squeezed us in and we got a decent price for them. We stopped to visit R's aunt & uncle "on the way" home (it was only about 60 miles out of the way) and didn't get home until almost midnight Saturday night.

I checked our phone messages Sunday morning. We had received several phone calls Saturday from a family that had a boar hog R wanted to buy. He called them back right away and made arrangements to get it later that afternoon (driving another 200+ miles round-trip).

Well, here's the funny thing...these people had also traveled to the very same sale the day before...and purchased every single one of the pigs we had taken! :-) Don't they realize how much easier it would have been to just meet half-way and exchange animals and money? We're still laughing about that one, but K was happy to know where "Waggy" pig was living now....

'Til The Cows Come Home

I've been down for the count these past few weeks (long story), but finally felt up to taking a ride with R & K to go check up on the cows Saturday evening. We have them pastured about 20 miles from home on a HUGE piece of grass. They have more than enough to eat and water is always running, but we (meaning R) still try to run up there several times a week, K loves to go along and check up on the "babies"...who are now probably weighing in around 350 pounds! They still look so darn cute, though!

I'm always amused by how they come running when we pull into the pasture driving his pickup. It's funny, if we take *my* vehicle, they just kind of wander towards us to check things out, but in the pickup, it's a different story. These big fat cows come running full speed towards us...literally kicking up dust.

Most people have cows that pretty much ignore them, but not R. They come right to the door of the pickup and stick their heads in to get a good scratch behind the ears, just like a dog mightv! And of course, they all have names or affectionate numbers. Baby Girl, Tanner, and #15 were some of my bottle babies. Between them, they've probably raised 7 or 8 calves already. Then there's Lop Ear. Well, she has a bent ear. K named one of the bulls George. Guess he just looked like a "George" to her (and this was LONG before a certain monkey movie came out). The list goes on.

R's thinking of brining them home when he gets back from his hunting trip in a couple of weeks. He worries about them when they're away from home and doesn't want them to get stuck out there should the snow actually start to fly soon. They act better when they're home, almost like they're more "at peace". They don't come running full speed towards the pickup. He actually has to call them some days. He'll stand in the back of the pickup yelling "Heyyyyyy COWS!" until they all come. K has even learned how to call them! I know he'll feel better having them here. But, we'll keep making several trips a week up there to check on them...'til the cows come home...