bad bed fellows

HOLY MOTHER OF ALL RODENTS.

A few nights ago, I went out to the coop after dark to check for eggs. I did like I always do when I go after dark: I turned on all the backyard lights so I could see. (It's still dark, by the way.) Sometimes I take my phone for a light source, but not that night. Oh no. Not that night.

There are two doors to my coop. One for them to enter and exit through and one that's directly behind the nesting boxes. I lift that door upward each day to retrieve my eggs.

But this night, as I innocently lifted the door to grab my rightful items, I saw movement in the coop. It ran from the exit door to the edge of the egg retrieval door. And fast! My first thought was: RAT!!! Because pretty much any rodent is a rat to me. But upon closer examination, I realized it was a (young) nasty hungry POSSUM.

So of course, I screamed. And he stood there staring at me. I thought I might be on the verge of one of those scenes where the squirrel jumps out of the tree and straight onto Uncle Eddy's FACE, so I dropped the door and caused a loud slam.

I waited a minute for him to realize I meant business and leave, but when I lifted the door again, he was still standing there. What the heck! Did he think I was there to PLAY?? Was he not afraid of my loud door slamming show?

Apparently not.

And then I did what any normal, rational woman would do. I went inside and sent my husband out.

And do you know what he did?



That's right. HE TOOK A PICTURE.

If you're waiting for an end to this story that includes the demise of that possum or my sweet chickens, for that matter, then you're bawking up the wrong tree. (Ba dum bum chshhhh. Sorry, had to do it.)

We went inside, hoped he'd be gone by morning, and googled possums. Apparently THEY EAT EGGS. Mmmmm, how nice. The next morning I saw that evidence for myself. The two fake eggs we leave in the nesting boxes to stimulate production have little bite marks all over them like he had held it like a corn cob and gone to town.

It must have been terribly unsatisfying for him. Because we haven't seen him around again.

i'm vintage.

Today my precious 13 years old daughter found, purchased, and explained to me the modern marvel known as "The Chip Clip." As if I never lived through the 1980's. And flipped my hair up in a chip clip with the best of 'em. Yep, she's a trail blazer, that one.

If you're a man, you may be wondering what I'm talking about. Well let's just say there are no crunchy snacks involved here. Just your hair and a clip that snaps shut.

I love how often she shows me new, "hipster" things and expects me to be amazed, only to find out that I wore that exact outfit or those same shoes. Bless.

I'll be happy when the 80's go away again.

who am i?

Every once in a while I feel the need to freshen up my bio. I like to reassess where I am in life and where I'm headed.

Currently I'm firmly planted as a part time working mom who is consistently sporadic in her attendance of her son's sports, fully supportive of her daughter's ambitions to be whoever she wants to be, and has survived 15 years of marriage to a man who sees all my flaws and loves me anyway.

Yep.

But that's wordy, so I focused on single words.

Wife: check
Mama: check
Runner: iffy
Reader: check
Urban Farmer Extraordinaire: yeppers

Not sure if you caught that, but I'm rethinking my current attribute of "runner." To be perfectly honest.... no, I'm not running right now. For the first time in about 5 years.

And this little exercise has got me planning. I don't want to erase that description from my list. So I've signed up for a race. It's next February, but it's paid for, baby. And that means this cheap mama WILL BE THERE. Running. Cuz she's already shelled out the dough.

This will be my sixth half marathon. And it may be ugly since I'm only getting older here. But Cowtown Half Marathon: here I come!

last day

Well, school's been out for a week now. We've settled into our stay-up-late-and-sleep-later routine quite nicely. At least I have.

But I MUST tell you ONE LAST STORY about my school year with the cutest and funniest kids on earth.

It happened on the last day. We were sitting in a school wide gathering. Each grade was performing for the whole school, one at a time. Being in second grade, we were toward the middle of the "show." It was very hard to sit still. Even for me. And you KNOW it was torture for my precious little guys, who are wired to move. Frequently.

I was sitting next to one of my funnier ones. Remember the butt pimple? Yah, that little one.

He's trying his hardest. He really is. But he can't help chatting a little, here and there, when the words are too many to hold inside. So he turns to me at one point and points to his knee. There, where he's pointing in a miniscule drop of blood. He's staring me straight in the eye and he says:

I'M a SCAB PICKER!! (in a gruff voice)

Gosh I'm gonna miss that guy and the way he makes me laugh.

my 29 hour trip

Well that was fast! My trip to Georgia came and went... in exactly 29 hours. Since I was flying standby with Delta, I spent an entire day in the OKC airport, hoping to get out. I made new friends, had Schlotzsky's for lunch, wore a cute outfit that no one got to see, and went home at the end of the day.

Day two started just like the first, sitting in the airport waiting and wishing at 5 am. And at 5:45, when the last people were being called, on a wing and a prayer, I got on! I was over the moon. I couldn't stop smiling for 20 minutes into the flight.

And after a short nap, boom, I was there! My sweet brother-in-law picked me up at the airport with coffee in hand, and we were off!

We spent the day celebrating this sweet thang. And let me say, I've never attended a homeschool graduation before. It was by far the coolest graduation I've ever had the privilege to witness. Too cool.

Me and my sweet god-daughter.

Me and my biffle.

My mama and her girls.

The whole crazy family. LOVE.
And then that was it. We went to bed, woke up, had coffee on the deck, went to church (where Beth and I held hands and I cried because I was already knowing I'd miss her in 2 hours), and then we came home for lunch.

Time to go. 29 hours after I landed, I was back at the airport. Heading home. Sniff sniff.

I'm leavin'... on a jet plane...

This 39 year old mama just turned 41.

Time keeps on tickin', people.

And you WILL NOT believe the birthday present I got 2 days ago. A TICKET. TO ATLANTA.

I'M GOING TO GEORGIA TOMORROW!!!!!! Can you tell I'm excited???

Yes, this is a good day. I'm going to bed tonight and waking up at the crack of dawn to fly out to GA to see my SISTER!!!!

Oh and THIS baby girl!

Who is actually now, THIS baby girl.

My precious niece is graduating from high school and my bigger wiser seester bought me a ticket to come celebrate.
I can't wait.

The last time I saw my sister, she was in my bedroom lounging on my sofa and making me do the ugly cry when I saw her.

This time? No ugly cry. Just JOY.

classroom giggles part 50,000

This conversation ACTUALLY happened today at school. We were in a school wide assembly and I was sitting by one of my little guys. I could eat this kid with a spoon, by the way. And he starts jibber jabbering in my ear. He's switching from topic to topic with lightning speed. Then this came out:

Cutie Patootie: I like Sundays. What's this. (Now he's pointing to something near his chin but he's covering it with the finger he's pointing with.) A pimple?

Me: (giggling internally and craning my neck to see past his finger) A pimple?

CP: Yah.

Me: Where? (trying to get him to move the stinkin' finger without coming out and saying it)

CP: Right here. (finger moves, revealing..... nothing)

Me: Oh, no! That's not a pimple.

CP: (nodding in approval of my answer) But there's a pimple on my BUTT!

Me: (nodding) HHMMMMM!

And then I turned quickly away. Because sometimes you just can't look at them if you need to keep a straight face.

lately...

Man, I haven't written in a while! And I was reminded of that when I was visiting with my friend Stacey the other day. Apparently she reads my blog! Yippee! A reader! It makes my heart swell.

So as I was reading back over what I've written lately, I noted that I haven't followed up on my hopes for the New York Marathon. It seems, alas, that I won't get to run. Bummer. BIG bummer. But I'll throw my name in again for next year. Maybe when I'm 80 I'll get in.

And then I saw some pictures of my garden from March 31. Wow! How the yard greens up and the flowers bloom in a month! My chickens are livin' the dream out there. And as an added bonus, they are eating all the weeds, too! So although I have to pay good money to get my front yard sprayed and fertilized, my backyard is a green paradise! Heck, I might move out there soon. All I need is some outdoor furniture and an invisible shield to keep the girls from entering my personal space and pooping on it.

In my dreams. Yes, in my beautiful dreams.

Do you see my lopsided landscaping? On the left I planted a peony on the same day I planted that flowering bush on the right. (I should know what that's called, but I don't. It's called "the pretty flowering bush that made it through the last winter without dying" here at my house.) Obviously, one of these things is not like the other. But that peony is making a comeback, I tell you! Hopefully in 2 years it will be as big as the other, unidentifiable bush! Note to self: time to get rid of the broken fountain. It's already lived it's glory days. Put it out of it's misery. ASAP.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, are some awesome pictures I snapped of the girls. Who love a good modeling shoot.

HAHAHAHA! Aren't they funny? I could eat that last one with a spoon! Oh wait. I might.

the recorder strikes again...

Good news people! Gavin got his black belt! For the recorder that is.

There's this new-ish thing going on in public school music classes. The kids play a song for the music teacher. They pass "the test" and they get a little "belt" for their recorder. Actually it's a color coded piece of string that gets tied onto their case. But that's neither here nor there.

The fact is: G is a black belt in the recorder. AND, not to brag, but he's the FIRST FOURTH GRADER TO RECIEVE THIS HONOR THIS YEAR.

Okay..... how did this happen? I think the standards have been significantly lowered for musical prowess since I was a girl.

But I haven't even gotten to the best part.

Today is my daughter's birthday. MA BABEEEEEE! She's a TEENAGER! And while we were having our 6 am birthday present opening session before the kids got ready for school, Gavin decided to give his sister the most thoughtful gift he could imagine.

A SERENADE OF HAPPY BIRTHDAY ON THE RECORDER.

Are you KIDDING me? I had to close my eyes. I was pretending to really focus on the beautiful music being played from his heart, but really I was cringing at every flat note he played in lieu of the correct one.

Finally, Abby, who had been so sweet (for once) to listen to his off key rendition, said, "Thank you GAVIN! THAT WAS SO SWEET!" (thus signalling an end to the song).

And in the quiet, dark of morning, across the room, Scott said:

Gavin. Sports. Yo.

The moral of the story is: A music career is not in your future, son.

deep thoughts by kim handy

There is so much sadness in the world today. Look around. You'll find failings of all kinds. The earth is failing us (floods, tsunamis, tornadoes, and earthquakes). The hope for peace is failing us (see middle east). And humankind is failing. Failing us? Maybe. Failing in themselves? Absolutely. Physical illness, mental illness, addiction, personal failings. Aren't we all failing in some way?

I've recently come across the news to find people I know in trouble with the law. People I know. And it got me to thinking about a song I like. The lyrics, in part, read like this:

All those people goin' somewhere
Why have I never cared?

Give me Your eyes for just one second
Give me Your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me Your love for humanity
Give me Your arms for the broken-hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
Give me Your heart for the ones forgotten
Give me Your eyes so I can see

You see, when I saw these people on TV, it broke my heart. I haven't seen either of them in years, but obviously, life has not been good for them. So where are my arms right now? Are they reaching out? Am I stepping forward to show love? No, I'll be honest. I'm sitting in my little bubble, focusing on what I can control (ha! or at least what I think I'm in control of), and hoping for the best for these people. People who God loves. People who He is wishing more for.

So what can I do? I'm not in a position, even if I were willing, to help these folks. I can't bail them out of jail. I can't change the charges brought against them. It feels hopeless. And yet, there's hope.

I was talking to a friend yesterday. She was telling me about one of the people I saw on the news. She mentioned that this person had exhausted their family financially and emotionally. She said there was probably no hope left for her life. And it got me to thinking. NO HOPE? Is that what Jesus says? Because if there's no hope for these people, then that means there's no hope for me! No hope for a sinner, broken and scarred.

It was about then that scripture began flooding my mind. Things like when Jesus said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." Notice he said "all". Not some things. Not most things. But ALL things. Including this lady's life. Is she not the perfect example of the person in that song I mentioned? Broken-hearted. Forgotten. Beyond my reach.

I can't do anything to change these people I know or the course of their lives. But I can do something powerful without leaving my home. I can (and have) dropped to my knees before an Almighty God, who knows all our sin and forgives us when we ask. I can stand in the gap for these people, even if they have no idea there is a gap. And I can petition the Lord on their behalf, asking that the HOPE they need will come. That it will be right around the corner. On it's way before they've even asked.

Stand with me. Please?