Disaster

My house is a disaster.

It is messy. It is dirty. There are stacks of papers that need tending. The garden is full of weeds. There is dog hair in every nook and cranny.

I am a mess, as well. Although I must say I have been finding the time to shower and put on clean clothes and wear undergarments of a supportive nature.

Usually.


Why this neglect of house and home and self?

I was working on, but have now finally finished....

MY BOOK.


That's right. For the last year and a half I have been working on writing a book.
















The first draft is now finished.

I sent my first official query letter to an agent on Thursday, September 1st.

I am expecting my first rejection letter in just a few short weeks.

I will frame it and hang it on a wall.


I know there is still much work to be done with making changes to the first draft and sending out query letters, but I must say I am glad I have made it this far. There were times I doubted that I could.

But I have received so many warm, encouraging comments from my readers to do this.

I wanted to honor that.

And James has made so much progress in becoming part of our family.

I wanted to honor that.

James would ask me now and then how the book was coming along. To him, it's been extremely important that this story be told. He wants others to see that it can be done. With love, and patience, and persisitence, it can be done.

And I wanted to honor that.

Farm Friday: Eggstra, Eggstra, Read All About It!

Last Friday I posted about our first egg.

EGGSciting, right?

Now, one week later, well, it's still eggsciting. Only more so.

I wouldn't say we are at the point where we have eggs coming out our ears yet, but our egg compartment in the fridge is full of pretty light brown, dark brown, and green eggs. We've gone from 1 egg a day to 3 to the other day 7.

7 eggs, uh-huh....















Yes, green eggs. From our Americauna hens. In fact, our first green egg was gigantic and a double-yolker! So proud of my girl.

We have officially bought our last egg elsewhere.


Our only problem is our rooster. Our cantankerous roo.

Ever since his gals started laying, he's been a bit, if you'll forgive the pun, cocky.

As in when you walk into the Hen House you take your life in your hands.

The first time it happened, he kind of hopped at me a couple times. Real low and all fluffy and making little noises.

Awww, isn't he just the cutest thing, I thought. He's acting all roostery.

But now we generally enter in pairs, and armed.

Because now he's got his sh** together.

He flies at you fast.
He flies at you high.
He flies at you mean.
He flies at you with his legs outstretched and making a
arrghscraghhhhh
noise with his beak gaping wide open.

I keep an old dust mop/broom thing next to the Hen House gate.

The kids know when they go out to gather eggs, they are to take the egg basket, a little cup of scratch for the ladies, and the dust mop/broom thing to shoo Big Daddy away with.

So one to do recon and one on watch duty. The wing man, if you will.

And the Hen House is filled with the sounds of the contented little cluckles of the hens, the arrghscraghhhhh of the rooster, the swinging back and forth of the dust mop/broom thing, and the threats and screams of the children...

"Don't you even THINK about it, Big Daddy!"

"Hurry up and get those eggs!"

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying!"

"Watch your 3:00, he's coming around!"

"He's on your 6, he's on your 6!"

"I've got 'em, let's go, go, go!"
















arrghscraghhhhh





Just a little country ambience....

Daniel's First Day.

Daniel started school on Weds.

Everyone else started Tues. They were supposed to start Monday, but the first day was cancelled b/c of "transportation concerns and power outages".

Yay first days! Yay school!

First Day!

Yesterday was the first day of school.

How much they've grown, even over the summer!


These are the five older kids, starting 11th, 10th, 8th, 7th, and 7th. Daniel starts this morning, so I will have his picture up later today, or maybe tomorrow.

All joking aside, I WILL miss my kids. I do so love the little creatures.



















































































































Bye kids, have a nice day!

Storm Sunday

Earthquake on Tuesday, hurricane on Sunday.

This is not my thing, all these natural disasters.

I've always said I live in one of the best areas of the whole flippin' country. No earthquakes, wildfires, mudslides, only the occasional diminutive tornado. Blizzards here and there but nothing compared to what they get out west or further north.

And yet here I sit, finally reconciled to our earlier 5.9 and fully prepared for Irene.

My Friday to-do list included:

feed store for chicken feed, cat litter, dog food and rabbit feed,
gas station,
Dunkin Donuts for 2# of coffee (this Mama runs on Dunkin),
grocery store to stock up on TP, enough groceries to make casseroles to last into early 2012, and several varieties of chocolate,
liquor store because, well, liquor store.

Once the pantry was full, I got the kids busy with securing things outdoors. Bella and I consolidated the bikes and skateboards and scooters and junk in the kids' garage while most of the other kids started hauling all the pool patio furniture over to pile up inside.

While we were working at ground level, two of the big boys were climbing all over the barn roof nailing down loose tin panels so the wind wouldn't catch them and turn them into rusty red kites.

We filled all the feeders and locked everything up tight.

Then Saturday we made chocolate chip cookies. We worked on finishing up all the remaining summer assignments and we checked in with the storm coverage roughly every three and a half minutes.

We got all excited when we saw our first casualty of Irene: a split tree. Said tree was dead already, but still, it was exciting to see such a big limb on the ground. Sadly, it used to be our tire swing tree branch.














But by bedtime things started to get a little dicier. We heard from Fred's brother who lives near the Jersey shore that a tree crashed through his kitchen window. With that, Fred and I declared three rooms unsafe to sleep in b/c of their proximity to a few rather large trees. Our two big boys slept downstairs and the other four kids slept in the room with us. As we snuggled into bed we watched more of the storm coverage, which at this point included several confirmed tornados in nearby areas. I wondered if I should move the whole family downstairs to sleep in the basement, but decided against it. I lay under my covers and listened to the wind howling, the rain pelting against the house, and I felt both cozy and terrified at the same time.

Of course, as a parent, it is your job to infuse your voice with an almost condescending calm as you soothe the fears of your youngsters, and I think it was this forced calm in my voice that finally let me drift off to sleep.

I awoke a few times during the night, listened, and fell back asleep.

Come morning, I still heard the wind tearing through the trees, but saw on the news that the storm had moved on and was breaking up. Out my windows, I saw no evidence of severe damage. Our roof looks intact, no broken windows, and believe it or not we even still have power. I'll still need to do a more thorough inspection of things outside, and check on the barn critters (though I saw the three horses nonchalantly grazing this morning even while getting pelted with rain), but it looks like we made it through pretty much unscathed.

So goodnight, Irene, and move along with you now, girl.

Farm Friday

We have a new....

refrigerator?
sofa?
vacuum?
car?

No. You know better.

We have a new pet.

A kitten.

Yes, I am a "whorder" badly in need of a 12 step program but I will thank you to keep your judgements to yourself.

You will judge me less harshly, I pray, when I tell you she was a little orphan kitty in the dairy barn at the farm where we get our milk.

And here's how it all went down. Because I am mentally retarded.

While waiting in the milking parlor for Katie to fill my milk jug, I looked through the window to the barn and noticed movement. It was her little boy, playing with something on the floor.

I went into the barn and saw him playing with three little kitty cats, cute as could be. Two calicos and a tuxedo.































A smart woman would have quickly closed the door and made like she saw nothing.

But I am not a smart woman.

So what do I do?

I call my girls over to come see.

I call my girls over to come see.

Like I said. Mentally retarded.

So Rosie comes over and like, dissolves into a puddle right there in a milking stall.

And goes,
canwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveone

And I'm like, NO, are you crazy child?

And she's like,
canwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveonecanwehaveone

And all over again, I say
.....no.....

And then she starts going,
pleaseprettypleaseIpromiseI'llhelptakecareofherpleaseprettypleaseIpromiseI'llhelptakecareofherpleaseprettypleaseIpromiseI'llhelptakecareofherpleaseprettypleaseIpromiseI'llhelptakecareofher

And then real firm like, I say
Call your father.

So then she's


















And then

















And the next thing I know we're driving home with our two gallons of milk and our kitty.


















Her name is Milky, btw.

Wordless Wednesday Becomes - For Today - Weird Wednesday

Yesterday morning James told me in a frightened-but-trying-to-sound-brave voice that he came downstairs late at night to find that the Wii was on. Also the TV. And that he woke in the middle of the night to a banging sound on the wall of the house. And the puppy was barking.

I explained to him in a very everything's-alright-nothing-to-see-here voice that I was sure one of the kids (namely Daniel) probably came downstairs that night and played a few games/watched a little TV.
(but I was thinking to myself no way in tarnation he would have turned lights off when he was done)

He seemed satisfied, but asked what about the puppy barking?

Oh, she barks all the time over her own shadow.

And the banging on the wall?

Oh that's nothing to worry about, I sez. I hear that banging noise outside my bedroom wall nearly every night. Sounds like someone's throwing a baseball against the house.

Oh OK, sez he. But what is it?

Ummmmmm. I don't really know. But I hear it like all the time, so.....

And I shrug like it ain't nothin but a thang. But to myself I'm wondering
Uhh, yeah. What is that banging noise? It's not pipes. It's not boards creaking. What the ????

Then I get on the computer for a bit and when it boots up to my home page or screen saver or wallpaper or whatever the heck it's called, I pause for a moment to look at the picture of me with a couple of my kids that I just put up recently. Awww, sweet.



















But what's that mark by Julie's head? I wipe at the screen, but it's not a smudge on my laptop. Is that, is that one of those orbs?

Hmmmmm.....


My morning moves along and then around 2:00 I get in the car with two of the girls to run to the store. A few seconds down the road, I get a call from Patrick. Says the whole house was just shaking violently for about 10 or 15 seconds and stuff was rattling and a couple pictures fell over.

That's it. I am turning around in the next driveway and heading home. We will pack up some underwear and some clothes. Toothbrushes. That magazine I just started. Plus that Wawa gift card I recently found. And I'd better grab the kids' school schedules. And some snacks, too.

There's a driveway. Lemme just....

Mom, Mom! All my friends are saying on FB we just had an earthquake! How cool!

OK, cancel, the turnaround.
Cancel the packing.
Not an evil house.

Just an earthquake.

In Pennsyl-freakin'-vania.....