Hello, my dears. Yes I'm still around. Obviously, that goodygasm coconut cookie recipe didn't post itself, then yet again, my house does have pixies in it, maybe they posted it.
For real I swear it does. Well, I prefer to think that I have some some sort of little mischievous fairy realm creatures over the other option...I'm haunted. wooooooooooooo. bwaaahaaahaaa. Sorry Halloween is coming and I figure I'll get a head start on it.
You see, every so often toys in the toy room start going off, meaning Elmo garages start repeating "oil change and a tune up, beep beep" or See & Says start quacking or mooing. That one got bad enough I took the batteries out. I've hollered in the nicest, adjust my halo, motherly voice for my kids to stop throwing and slamming their toys into the toy box then kids run in the door asking what was that mom, as they couldn't hear because they where outside playing.
Funniest yet, waking cowboy up to figure out what's making the noise in the bookshelf and listening and watching him try and get his land legs because once he's asleep he's OUT. Then grabbing the flashlight, stepping on some inky dink kids toy and look in the bookshelf for what we assumed would be a mouse, but the noise continued while he was looking and shining the light right where it was coming from and no mouse. He closes the bookshelf door after it stopped thinking finally my wife will leave me alone about "what's that" and I can go back to sleep.
Yes, I'm telepathic I can read my husband's mind thank you.
But he only made it a few steps and the noise begins again. So what does he do? I know you are just dieing to know. He does what any good caveman would do, he pounds his big macho construction man fist on the bookshelf door grumbling something from a language I'm sure he learned in the Navy and swaggers himself back to bed. Whispering in the sweetest tone that it's OK, go back to sleep to the baby, stopping to tuck the blankie back under my youngest cherubs chin.
Once in bed again, the noise starts again and I got the giggles poking him in the side about it. He just kicked his big foot out the bed and stomped the floor this time, telling me to "Go to sleep woman." And, giggle giggle I did. OK, I admit that one probably was a mouse, but it was funny, watching cowboy do anything right after waking before he's prepared to is always funny.
I'm Irishly stubborn standing by my theory that since I'm probably the only Scotch-Irish lass living in this very German, Scandinavian area that I have fairies, pixies, Imp's some sort of Celtic creatures flitting about my house over the fact that somebodies great great uncle died here. Shiver...hello pixies.
You see, I'm fine, so to speak. Upon reading what I just wrote that might mean I'm completely off my rocker. I don't think I am, but if you do... Feel free to send me to the loony bin, but if I do go, I'm taking the one who owns a "tippy table" with me, because she's loco too.
So, there it is. I've survived my first week of my hubby being gone except for not having him to chase odd sounds and fasten my top cartilage earring when I popped it out while doing my hair and try as I could even in contortionist ways I couldn't fasten it. I have survived and not a blubbering bawling mess.
Kids have adjusted awesomely. I am so proud of how well they are doing and life goes on.
5 more weeks to go, well this time, Jauary we start again, and then July or Aug the "Big one" over a year. I'll think about that tomorrow, in my best Scarlett O'Hara voice.
1 ½ cups of Patience 2 tablespoons of Elbow Grease 1 Pound of Courage 1¼ cups of Tolerance Dash of Adventure.
Marinate frequently with salty tears. Pour off excess fat and sprinkle ever so lightly with money. Knead dough until payday.Season with international spices. Baste with a lot of good memories and friendship. Bake for twenty years or longer until done.