I was getting some shoes out of my closet that didn't fit me right, and threw them with some others that the kids have outgrown. Then I saw my baby's pair that she has outgrown. Made me a tinge sad to see these cute little guys go already.
I finished a baby blanket for my husband's dear friend who just had their first baby. I'm glad it's done; now I need to get it in the mail.
I felt a little glum today. The kids did, too; I could tell. I think it's the rain; we've had a lot of overcast and rainy days lately.
Are bloggers allowed to be glum?
I get too wrapped up with people and their lives sometimes and think about things too much. Facebook is bad for me that way. I need to step back and remember to be here for my kids.
Step back. Let things go; give them to God. He's bigger.
So we took a walk around the farm. That always helps.
I need to do something with our pumpkins. They came up on their own in the burn pile, of all places. Violet was disappointed that she and her dad had forgotten to plant any this year. They've done it every year since I can remember. Then these came up on their own. Funny the way God delights little kids.
Don't bite the pumpkins, Baby.
The oak tree is dropping excessive amounts of acorns. I had the kids collect them for the pigs; yes, pigs like to eat acorns. Is there anything pigs don't like to eat? Violet has to collect 100 and Levi has to collect 20. Levi is not too thrilled about the whole venture, obviously. His 20 takes much longer than Violet's 100.
I asked Fido who in our family he thinks he looks like, but he ignored me.
I've been slicing and dehydrating apples. We went and got a truckload with my husband's family to send to make cider at an Amish cider press, so we kept a bushel to use for dried apples and fruit roll ups. I thought I was done with apples for the year, but the kids love the dried apples so much.
Violet was out in the garden all covered with mud. I didn't realize she was being an artist out there until she came running in to use the bathroom looking like she'd joined the hogs in the pig pen.
"What in the world do you have all over your arms and legs?" I asked.
"Come out and see; and bring the camera," she ordered.
"It's my mud snowman."
Does that term work?
I had to take a picture of this when I brought it home from the rescue mission: it's old bread for our pigs. I never expected to see my name written in this descriptive way. I had to point it out to my Farmer to show him
that I am now a farmer
just like him.