Welcome to the farm!!!

It's almost ours. We need to go through the inspection and of course there's the handing over of funds and body parts and we also promised our first born grandchild. But you know what? It's totally worth it, who needs their right arm anyway?   Let's take a look around the place.  Come down the circle drive through the big shade trees..
Here's the one story barn and Rechelle giving me the okay to purchase this little spot of heavenly bliss.
Who wants corn for dinner?  When you climb up in the tree fort you can see Mount Oread.  For those of you that aren't Jayhawks, well, I'm sorry I can't explain it any further than that.  The fella gazing out into the beautiful pasture is my realtor, Randy.  Dandy Randy the realtor.  I like to call him Rrrrrrranday, with a nice long Spanish roll of the rrrrrr.
Hoops?  Anyone?  Listen, you can't live in a place where buildings are named after the man that created basketball and not have a basketball court, no, you can't, it's a regular feature on every home.
Thank you all for your kind words and the prayers that were said.  It's nice to know there's people that care if we have a home.  Tomorrow, I'll show you a little bit inside. 

Now, back to sorting through our stuff and deciding what deserves to live in that sweet farmhouse.  If you live near me now and need "stuff"  I'm going to try to sell everything, even the chickens are up for grabs.   

Waiting

This is the barn and if that little wheel gets left behind, well, that would be just fine with me, cuz I think that's where it needs to be.

I'm sitting here, waiting to hear if the sellers have accepted our final offer. Just waiting. I'm sure they have no idea that my forehead is sprouting a zit every five hours and that my stomach has jumped out of my throat to turn somersaults on the floor. God told me to stop talking to him so He could get some sleep at about 3:00 am.

Really, it's no big deal. I'm just waiting. I nearly passed out a few seconds ago because I forgot to take a breath and if one more child asks a question about the house I might just stuff them in the toaster and serve them with breakfast. But, honestly I'm okay, just waiting.

It's all in God's hands. It's hard to buy a little piece of heaven.

Home Again

No, I'm not pregnant. No, I still don't have my tooth fixed. No, I'm not buying a new minivan, but it is filthy from all the trips we've taken recently and that alone could cause me to hide under my covers and whimper, but the news I have to share overshadows any mountain of laundry, sticky floor or urine stained bathroom.



So here's the big news. Ready? Huh? Yes? Okay, you don't have to yell.



We are moving. Finally. We're not just moving to a new house or to something that I found down the street, no, we are packing up and heading back West. Back where we belong. Kansas my friends, Kansas.



It's been a long road to get back home, but we finally made it. God just flung open doors and to put a cherry on top He showed me this.








Isn't she lovely? The house, not Rechelle, who is sitting on the steps. I'll share more photos soon. She's not ours yet, we're working on that today. I'll also tell you the great story of how this all came about, but for now I'm wheeling and dealing with the seller of that farmhouse.

Sorry, I had to keep you all hanging. I had to let Clay tell his current employer that he's leaving before I opened my big mouth up to the world.

I feel, I feel, I....don't know. It's all so big. Hopefully, I won't wake up and find myself drooling on my keyboard.

Patience is my friend...I think

Big, Ginormous, Huge, Gargantuan, Mega announcement to make........

on Monday.

Love you all, don't hate me because I am silent, lots and lots of work being done at the April Showers homestead. Ooooooh, I can't hardly contain it! Wanna a hint? Okay, come here, closer, closer, closer.....it has something to do with me.


Blaaaaaa, oh you all are such suckers! I'll tell you Monday, geesh!

Corn Nuts

Ummmmm, I got nothin'. My mind is actually a swirling mass of drama and scenarios about life and for once I'm just speechless. I know, hard to believe. Oh, who am I kidding? I've got stuff I can write about..

My two oldest kids are visiting Toto and Dorothy in Kansas this week. They're playing with a couple of their cousins, getting hauled to The Puppet Factory and the swimming pool and running around in their grandparent's house. Did you all know my mom owns a puppet factory? Oh, the stories I could tell you about puppets.

If you want to see what I did last week you can read Rechelle's blog. One day I ran to the hardware store to pick up four screws and when I got back in my hotter-than-Hades van I found myself absolutely famished. Spying the the bag of spilled Corn Nuts in the passenger seat I decided to pop a few of the nicely warmed kernels in my mouth. Yes, if they would have been on the floor or under my shoe or in the bottom of my purse I still would have eaten them and delighted in their salty-warmed-corn-crunch.

However, after the first couple bites I noticed that there was something very hard in the kernels of my Corn Nuts. Do Corn Nuts have bones? No. So I started spitting out little flecks of Corn Nuts into my hand and discovered pieces of my back molar mixed in with the yellow spittle and corn mush. Oh. This was not a good thing. I didn't know if those pieces of tooth could be salvaged so I stuck them in the little paper sack along with the four screws I bought from the hardware store. Turns out you can't salvage broken bits of molar, but you can go to the dentist in a small town within a couple of hours of breaking your tooth and have him file it down a bit so the sharp edges will stop shredding your tongue. The dentist will ask how your family is and pat you on the shoulder and then send you out the door without charging you a single penny.

Gotta love a small town. Then I went to the car wash and vacuumed out my van so I wouldn't be tempted to eat anymore of those Corn Nuts.

One of my many skilz

I can install light fixtures. Don't worry, there's no fear of me putting any electricians out of business. It took me an entire day to hang two with not having the correct tools and making two trips to the hardware store, one trip was to spend $.18 on four screws because it's strangely impossible to find four screws in a house full of construction workers. Oh, and did I mention I also electrocuted myself? Like I said, no fear that I'll become the next greatest electrician.

Why did I have to hang the fixtures when the electrician, Larry (whom I keep wanting to call Earl, he just looks like an Earl to me), was on the premises? Well, because Earl, uh I mean Larry had a pacemaker put in a month ago and isn't supposed to lift his arms above his head. He's still looking a bit peaked, so I didn't mind. He also didn't make me feel retarded when I said, "Dang, I don't think I got the wires connected, the lights aren't on." He just simply walked over and flipped the switch. See? That's why he gets paid the big money. But, he was pushing his luck a bit when he asked, "When ya gonna get those ceiling fans in?" I think he may have presumed that I actually am a professional light fixture installer.

Looky at that purty fixture. I tell ya, having me around can be right handy sometimes.

I have a drinking problem

I am so tired and out of shape. All this physical labor is kicking my arse. So far this week I've wired and hung five light fixtures and now I'm helping paint a china hutch. We're getting some of the kitchen unpacked, but the counter tops aren't all in yet. Did I mention I'm tired?

Rechelle's builder, Dennis, arrives at 7:00 am. He's a very sweet man. In fact all the men that have come in and worked in the house have been very nice. During the day the house doesn't really feel like a home, it feels like a place of business.

The main floor is hot since the air hasn't been hooked up. We go up and down stairs to get everything. Need water? Down to the basement. Need to go pee? Up the stairs. Need to change a diaper? Up the stairs. Need to go to the van? Down a ladder. It's an all day stairmaster class. Needless to say, I am always thirsty.

I went to Lawrence over the weekend and while I was there I stopped by The Mercantile, which is this fabulous natural food store. I bought LeCroix water and brought it back to Rechelle's house. LeCroix water looks just like a wine cooler. I've been drinking them all day and Rechelle told me she's certain that Dennis thinks I'm drinking alcohol all day long. To make it worse while Dennis was coming and going through the front door he spotted me nodding off on the couch when I sat down to rest a second. He probably thought, "What a lush!" I think I'll start slurring my speech tomorrow when I'm talking to him. "Hey Dennish, you shur are doin' a mighty fine shob on dish housh." Belch!

Long Gone

Hey my lovies, I'm in Kansas this week visiting Rechelle.

She is living in what will someday be a very beautiful house. But, good gawd, the work that still needs to be done and the chaos. It's overwhelming. Eeek.

Bug Eyes

I'm not one to spend more than five bucks on a pair of sunglasses. I've learned that if I spend more than that they will inevitably get lost or broken within hours of purchasing them. My last pair of sunglasses came from the dollar store. I still have them, but they don't provide complete sunlight obliteration and that is what my eyes really require lest I get a headache. After I spend five dollars on my sunglasses I take very good care of them, being sure not to place them on the floor of the vehicle where children will trample them. After all, our vehicles have a silly little built-in spot just for sunglasses and who wouldn't want to use it? My husband, that's who. The man buys expensive sunglasses that we spend hours trying to find to fit his big honkin' head. Then he tosses them on the floor of his truck or as it was on our vacation, the boat. Yep, I had just hoisted my big butt out of the lake and into the boat, thank God I don't have to find sunglasses for my bodaciousness, I looked at Clay and he was wearing his sunglasses that now had one lens and were twisted tighter than a pretzel. He stepped on them. Now I'm making him wear my old pair of dollar store glasses while I wear my new sunglasses that are as big as my toddlers face.

Clay's punishment is to occasionally say, "You were right dear, I shouldn't fight the powers that you posses, because you speak knowledge that is far greater than mine, sunglasses do not belong on the floor.....ever."

I want a horse!

We visited Hannibal Missouri on our vacation. Taking a twenty minute tour in a horse drawn wagon was my favorite part. When I see a horse I immediately want to be friends. I neeeeeed to touch its soft mouth and gaze into its eyes. I know they all love me because they whisk their tales around when they see me and they only do that to people they love. If it weren't for my parents I would have had one billion-gazillion-tillion-lillion horses in my backyard. I asked for a horse for Christmas and my birthday for at least ten years and my mom would get me a stuffed horse or a porcelain horse or a plastic horse. I know she wasn't dumb, but I sure thought they knew what I meant when I said, "I want a horse". I never got a horse, it's a deep wound, but I think I'll live.
Here's the very arthritic-joke-telling driver. He was sweet and cute and told terrible jokes like; Which side of the horse has more hair? Anyone wanna guess? No? THE OUTSIDE!!! Harharhar. Oh, it was good wholesome fun for all.

This here is Pete the horse. He weighs 1700 pounds and eats corn off a coat wire from a little two year old that could be mistaken for a bale of hay.

He tolerates parents hoisting their young kids on his back after he's pulled a wagon full of people around town through brick streets on a hot July day.

Pete was trying to give me a big juicy kiss, but my dadgum toddler got in the way and shoved a wired corn cob in his mouth. It's okay Pete, I know you love me, I saw that tail whisking around, my heart is forever yours.

Blueberry Buckle

I got the blueberry buckle recipe from a fantasimo cookbook called The Grassroots Cookbook- Great American Recipes From Kitchens Across The Land by Jean Anderson. I've been using it for years and years and years. I searched online and you can pick one up on Amazon for a mere buck, so go getcha one if you're so inclined.

It has recipes like; Carrot Pecan Cake with Fresh Orange Glaze, Batter-Fried Chicken, Crab Imperial, Self-Rising Biscuits and oh so much more mouth watering old fashioned goodness I just can't tell you lest we all slip across the floor on our own saliva.

The blueberry buckle recipe comes from Mrs. William E. Schumpf of Penobscot County, Maine. Her friends call her "Brownie", but I call her "Mrs. Blueberry Buckle."

I wanted to make this and take beautiful pictures, but, ummm, well, that's just not gonna happen. My children's social calendar has filled up this week and therefore my butt is forming a permanent indentation in the driver's seat of my van and if I made the buckle I would just be spreading the dent and that just ain't pretty.

So, here ya go.

Blueberry Buckle

For best results use fresh blueberries.



1/2 cup butter

1/2 cup sugar

1 egg lightly beaten

2 cups sifted all purpose flour

2 1/2 tsps baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 cup milk

1 pint fresh blueberries, washed and stemmed



Topping:

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 cup flour

3/4 tsp ground cinnamon

1/2 cup butter



1. Cream butter and sugar until light; beat in egg. Sift together the four, baking powder and salt and mix in alternately with the milk, beginning and ending with the dray ingredients.



2. Spread batter across bottom of greased 9X9X2 inch pan. Cover with blueberries.



3. For topping; Mix sugar with flour and cinnamon, then cut in butter until mixture is uniformly crumbly. Scatter topping evenly over berries.



4. Bake in a moderate over 375 degrees for 1 to 1 1/4 hours or until buckle is puffed and browned. Remove from oven, cool in pan10-15 minutes before cutting. Top with whipped topping, or ice cream or just eat it straight out of the pan.

Fried Ham

We went to Mark Twain Lake for a relaxing vacation. However when we got home, I was really tired and every muscle in my body was a bit on the sore side because I water skied one day and I'm very out of shape.

I love to water ski and I love to drive a speed boat, deep in my heart I was meant to live close to a lake and be out on the water doing sporty things, but the Good Lord forgot to give me the skin to go with the water-baby lifestyle. It's just not fair, but actually it is fair....get it? Fair? Like fair skin? No? You all have no sense of humor.

My husband is even fairer than I. His skin sizzles within a mere moment of being exposed to sunlight. I've never seen a man slather on spf 50 as efficiently as Clay and then still have a blood-red burn on his neck and face. If you come to our house in need of sunscreen you will find it in no less than 30 spf and located in the laundry room, van, truck, swim bag, purse, and all the bathrooms. We pride ourselves on skin protection. The sun is our enemy and sunscreen, clothing and hats are our weapons.

Seth has been learning why sunscreen is so important this summer. He has sported a few good burns because of his lack of enthusiasm against sunscreen. Therefore, he has a very cute freckly face.
This kid can light a dark path with his whiteness. He's easy to spot in a crowd of bronze skinned children. He can make the palest person look like they've been to a tanning bed.

We don't have to buy white tights for our daughter so milky are her legs, she's practically translucent.
We've managed to save our children from the fried-raw-hamburger skin that Clay and I suffered through as children. Our kids complain and whimper when they get a little red on their shoulders or nose and Clay and I just look at them and say, "You have no idea how a real sunburn feels, no idea."

One year probably when I was in third grade I came home after a weekend at the lake with every exposed body part fried to a blister. My armpits, behind my knees, the insides of my ears, my scalp, belly, back....all fried. I was burned so bad I got the shivers and took a hot bath but couldn't make the water hot enough. I walked around the house in a pair underwear with my skin slathered with greasy Solar Cain. When the cleaning lady came over I regretfully slipped on my scratchy light green polyester robe and lay on the couch. She gasped when she saw me and wondered why I wasn't at the hospital. Oh, Lord then came the peeling. I think I could have slid out of my skin and people wouldn't have noticed I left the room. Some parts of me peeled several times before my skin finally decided it was healed. That was the summer that I got freckles on my arms and legs. Skin cancer seems imminent for me. Hopefully God will spare me that and just leave me freckled and wrinkled.

I'm baaaaaaack!

Okay, Okay. I'm back. Thanks for missing me. I never knew I had so many fans. So for my fans....all 13 of you.....I'll be posting that blueberry buckle recipe this week and I'll get the desperate few folks that need linkage up on my sidebar and I'll tell you all what we've been up to. But for today you'll have to be pacified with a couple pictures.


Like this one. This is my ball of twine that I use to tie up my tomaters and cucumbers when they get out of control. I think I'm quite the inventive genius for storing it on top of my bean poles and slipping a knife in the middle so it's always handy when I need it. Please note that I was not the person that took it out of the protective plastic sleeve that it comes packaged in....so it doesn't get all wadded up and tangled.....no, that was not me. The person that did that is the same person that still asks questions like, "What plant is this?" after I've told him a dozen times before, "It's a cucumber." Let's just say I have to constantly remind myself that I am married to a city boy and not a farmer.

Remember when I told you about my neighbor's llama? Well, here he is....or she...I think it's a boy. He loves me. He like to suck on my fingers and smell the back of my neck which gives me the heebeejeebees. I wish I had his eyelashes, just look at those things. I would never have to wear mascara again.

Alrighty folks, that's all I've got for now. I'll be back tomorrow with some real meat and potaters stuff for you to fill your April Showers bellies. Oh, and I'm having some sort of weird alert problem with posting and reading comments on other sights, so if I seem quiet it's just because the mute button is stuck....I'm really trying to get in on all the conversations and hopefully I can get that fixed this week too.