Monday, February 24, 2014

little b and the kenyans

Yeehaw people! Brenda and I headed to Cowtown last weekend!

And of course after we left the Expo, we headed HERE.

And when you go to Central Market, you have to have a beer on the patio! With an eclair. Maybe.

busted by the shadow!

And then, OF COURSE, Trader Joes. Because no trip is complete without a stop for Two Buck Chuck.

And then we went to Mom's house in Forth Worth, where she hosted us with her mostest. First, dinner at BJ's. Yummm!

And then off to bed. Early to rise! 5:20 am

So here's where the fun begins. We dropped Brenda at the starting line (I didn't sign up. The weather in OK has been snowy and wonky lately. I don't train well on treadmills.). Then we headed to a Starbucks nearby. We went there last year and sat for a while then headed to different spots on the route to cheer her on. But this year, I was jumping on the course near the end, to give her a hand. Her training hasn't been so hot, either.

When what to my wondering eyes did appear but two police cars with lights and some elite athletes FLYING down the road outside the window! WHA... WHAT??? I didn't know we were sitting on the route! So out we ran, to grab a pic of the elites. That, by the way, is how I run in my dreams.

And then I stood there, giddy, and jealous, of all the runners who had trained. And after a while I saw her! Little B! Running down the road at clipper-like pace! She was looking good! And I was looking like a fool, jumping up and down, waving my hands over my head, and screaming her name. LUCKILY she saw me. Otherwise, all the people standing around me would have thought I was screaming at a pretend friend.

So we left there. There weren't any more pretend friends to scream at. And headed east. The Starbucks was only 2 miles into the race and my meeting point to hop on the course was at 9 miles. So I figured I had a lot of time. We hopped in the car and were right across the street from where we planned to park, when all of a sudden... BAM!! Here came the Kenyans! HOLY CRAP! They are FAST!!! Look at that FORM!!

Well, we had to wait a minute for them to clear the intersection, but clear they did, in a hurry. And then we sat and waited. Me and my chauffeur. Named Mom.

While we waited, we saw this. A BOY. He COULD NOT be more than 12 years old. WOW!! And he was in the faster group!! He was amazing!!

And then I stood, staring down this hill. THE WORST HILL TO RUN ON THE FACE OF THE PLANET. It's the road that takes you out of the Stockyards in Ft. Worth, Texas, by the way. It's a (#*$&@. I didn't envy those runners.

When little B came up that hill, I was waiting. Heck NO, I didn't help her up the hill! There were other hills to be had on this course still ahead! HAHAHAHA. And off we went.

I ran with her from miles 9-12 and then I hopped off. I felt like a faker running into the finish. Plus I wasn't wearing a bib. HAHA!

And there you have it, Brenda's PR. That's Personal Record for those of you who don't run.

Thursday, February 20, 2014

chickens and eggs and salads, oh my!

Being a small scale chicken farmer, I get the same questions a lot.

Do they run around your backyard all day?

How do you know so much about chickens if you grew up in the suburbs?

Do you guys eat a lot of eggs or something?

The answers are: yes, I read a lot of books and blogs, and YES! We eat a lot of eggs.

The girls have really kicked it into gear lately with the egg laying business so mama is happy. It was depressing to have to buy eggs at the store over the holidays and beyond. Thankfully, they have stopped molting and started laying again. Except Beaker. She's our lone hold-out. How do I know? Just like a mama knows her twins, I know who lays by their egg color. And Beaker is easy to spot. Although my girls are Easter Eggers and I purchased them with one thought in mind: I WANT COLORED EGGS LIKE MARTHA STEWART HAS, Beaker is an anomaly. She lays brown eggs.


Anyway, here's a familiar sight these days:

Oh, and by the way, that brown one you see is a fake egg, used to stimulate production. :)

Anyway, here's what I retrieved just now from the coop:

But let's get to the point here. I wanted to share a recipe from all the "egg eating" that we do around here. Hopefully you'll try it and enjoy!

Egg Salad Sandwiches:
4 eggs, boiled and diced
2-3 Tablespoons Mayo (I prefer less because I'm not a mayo fan)
Several dashes of:
dry mustard

Mix and serve on your favorite whole wheat bread!
Bon Appetit!

Monday, February 17, 2014


Warning: This is a shameless plug for sympathy from other parents.

I have this amazing daughter. You've read about her before. She's beautiful and tall (5'7" now, holy COW!!), and has a curvy spine. She loves to sing and dance and TALK. Oh my, the talking.

I feel like the older I've gotten, I've become more and more introverted. Stop snickering... you know who you are. I know, it sounds funny to hear me, Kim Frakes, label myself "introverted." And maybe I'm not. Maybe it's that my words get stuffed and overshadowed by the TALKERS in my family. OH MY! The TALKING!

But wait! This isn't about me. "The Loner.", my husband recently called me. "I don't know why you ever got married." he said. All because a girl wanted to escape the noise and read a book in her room. :)

OK, I've highjacked enough. See? I'm desperate to get some words out in this house so now I'm turning to my blog to pour it all out. NOW, BACK TO MY DAUGHTER.

She sings. Did you catch that? Sings. And I mean SINGS. She walks around our house using not just her words, but her lungs. And let me tell you, she can BELT IT. Sometimes it's a beautiful thing. And sometimes, for the love of all that is good, we have to beg her to stop. And not for lack of talent. She hits the right notes and sings right on key. But the sheer volume. The heights to which she can reach in VOLUME.

Below is an actual text I had to send her in her room one evening.

Me, sitting in the kitchen listening to her sing in her room, ACROSS THE HOUSE, and consequently, closest to our next door neighbors: I'm pretty sure Bob is getting ready to walk over and complain. You are singing way too loud tonight. Please pipe down.

Reaction? She immediately stops singing (presumably to read her latest text message), swings her door open and comes running down the hall laughing. "Really? Am I THAT loud?!?! Do you REALLY think BOB CAN HEAR ME???" (she's wearing a very wide and proud smile)

The sad thing is: it's not bad! She has a talent! And many times I stop what I'm doing just to listen.

I think we need a bigger house. One where sister girl gets her own sound proof wing. And G gets a basketball court for a bedroom.

Yes. That. That would be livin' the dream.

Friday, February 14, 2014

toot toot

Me, to child who went home early from school the day before with a fever:{Student!} I'm so glad you're back today! Are you feeling better?!

Student: I wasn't sick! I had gas in my stomach. I'm fine.

Saturday, February 8, 2014

this girl.

Poor Chloe. She gets overshadowed by the chickens.

So in light of the freezing weather and snow we've been "enjoying" lately, I thought I'd share a picture I took of my girl.

I came home yesterday from a long day of shopping and opened my cabinet in the laundry room. There was a pile of doggie clothes I haven't put on my pup in a couple years. So I pulled them out and threw a polka dotted puffer coat on my little cutie and sent her outside for a run in the snow. She took off, livin the dream, down the street. After marking her territory on the pole, she turned and ran back to me, like we were reinacting the scene from "10" only she's a chihuahua and I'm a 40 year old woman. There was a lotta love there, folks.

Anyway, to make a short story long, she came in and donned the bejeweled hoodie I have her in now. Behold: my princess.

ummmm... can you say muffin top? I think it's time for a doggie diet.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

possessive pronouns

Let me set the scene. In my classroom with my 13 precious students. I'm teaching grammar.

Teacher: This is new! It's called a possessive pronoun and we will label it PP.

Boy who loves to talk and is never afraid to speak his mind. He is looking at me with his chin down and eyebrows up.

Boy: That's a BAD WORD!

Me, turning around from the board, oblivious to his concern: What? What. (now it occurs to me, I know, I can be slow on the uptake)

Boy: That WORD you just said!

Me: What, PP?

Boy, still cutting his eyes up at me in disdain: Yesss. And you DON'T have to say it like THAT!

Me, trying not to laugh, because I can appreciate potty humor with the boys I've got in my own home: PP? P.... P.... The marking we use when we are classifying a POSSESSIVE PRONOUN.

Boy: IT'S a BAD word. You should stop using it.

Me: PP?

(giggling enters the room. as i scan the crowd, i realize the only ones giggling are boys.)

Me: Ohhhhhkay. Let's all get this out of our systems. If you need to giggle, let's do it now. Go ahead! Get your giggles over with. Because this really isn't funny. (pregnant pause)

(boys giggle and then try their hardest to straighten their faces out)

Enter scrumptious little girl who has two brothers and isn't a super girly girl.

Girl: Yah, because it's NOT FUNNY.

Me, looking at her: YES. So! Are we ready now?! Let's move on....

Saturday, February 1, 2014

an actual conversation in my classroom

Student: Did you read this book last year with your class?

Me: No? I didn't. I wasn't teaching last year.

Little slip of a thing with blonde hair, big brown eyes, and a preciously huge smile: Well then what did you do?

Me: I stayed home as a mama.

Same sweet thing: That's AWESOME!! STAYING AT HOME!! Going SHOPPING! Getting your HAIR DONE! My mom is getting her eyebrows waxed today.

I might need to change my blog. No more chickens and running. I may have to start adding the quote of the day from my awesomely hilarious second graders. Mmm. I could eat them all with a spoon.