Weedy, just weedy!

So what started out as a weed pulling expedition turned in to a rip roaring, back muscle pulling good time!  I did not pull a muscle pulling weeds. I pulled it when I moved the 20somethingish hunk of limestone for my new flower/rock/something bed I inadvertently began to build last Thursday.

This is not a Pinterest project like the hallway closet is, this was a legitimate on a whim "hey this will be fun and easy" project I flung myself in to.  I started this project with the intentions of turning the current mud/weed bed in to something that at least looked better. The electric box is over there also so I was going to make a stone path for them to step on so they did not step on any flowers/vines that I MIGHT put there.

I started out using one side that the previous owners had down but alas, like everything else they did here it was askew. I do not care for askew unless it is MEANT to be that way and done properly.  :-)

After I got half way done with the askew project (trying to make the best of it) I was told by the other that while standing on the deck you can tell it is not straight, big time. He knows me and told me that it is better I know now instead of when I am finished because I will curse and huff and puff and re-do it anyway.

So I began undoing all the do I had done. (yes I meant for the sentence to say that)  That meant I had to take out the 12ish limestone pieces I had already placed. Not only had I placed them but I had been digging a trench of sorts so that they would all be even. I had to dig more and move more and the stones are a good 50lbs. I thought "man, I am a badass and getting a great workout!"  Take that Tony Horton and P90X!!  Thursday went swimminglyish, I did not get injured, stones got moved and put in place and I felt great about the whole project. Then Friday happened.  I was out moving and digging and moving some more and I felt a twinge. I told the other "I think I pulled a muscle" he answered that I probably had. End of convo. I kept moving 5 or so more stones and digging more dirt, also digging out around the stumps I have to cut out so that that they don't poke my weed mat full of holes.

Pretty soon the simplest thing such as moving my arm made me cringe. I REALLY hurt my back, for really real. Not a oh that stung a bit. It is a real INJURY! Holy crap! It hurt to walk and even to breathe. I texted the other that I REALLY hurt my back and had to come in and plant myself in bed. It has been 5 days and  I have been a horrible patient. I am not good at laying in bed. I am learning that I won't get better unless I rest though and the rest of my back and neck are making up for the injured muscles causing me to ache all over and have raging headaches.

I have been on facebook more (sad to admit) while laying there. BORED. I am reading a couple of books and watching the series Vikings, which is AWESOME!!!  I am also Pinteresting more. Mostly yoga and how to stretch this body when I am able to again. I can't wait to get back to yoga and working out.

Yes I will finish my stupid flower/rock/something bed I started. Can't get that far and just leave it. I am fairly certain that my thirst for curb appeal has been quenched and my yard is no longer in danger of being landscaped. Mowing and weed eating aside, if it ain't growing on its own it ain't growing in my yard :-)

Oh the things I have done!

As mentioned before this is not my first rodeo as far as living in the country. It has been so long since the first time I think I have forgotten everything I learned, or else I didn't learn anything. I can't remember  :-)
I do know that I was young (20ish) and we did not have dogs.

We moved to the country in August of 2013, since then I have learned a handful of things.

1. There are lots of spiders out there. By lots I mean GAZILLIONS and this must be the egg-sack carrying time of year. Please excuse me while I go throw up! Before you get all "they are good to have around" on me, I know this and I don't give a rip. I HATE them and want to ban them from my property! All 10.5 acres of it!!!

2. I am not opposed to picking up random body parts from cows, pigs, deer and other creatures I could not identify. If needed I will have a tug-o-war with said body parts to keep Talia from bringing them in the house. She hasn't carried anything new home in a couple weeks now. Strange...

3. I have a soft spot in my heart for turtles, snakes, snails, moles, skinks, frogs, anything that is NOT an arachnid, flea, tick, roach or june bug.

4. Because of said soft spot I will slam on my breaks to "rescue" a snake, turtle, frog, or whatever little creature I happen to see in distress.

Since living on the farm I have rescued 2 snakes, 2 frogs, 3 turtles, 1 praying mantis, multiple snails and 1 mole. Yes I said mole. I was torn, they screw up the yard but they are sooooo cute!

I was on the phone with the significant other and saw Truman and Talia in the front yard. I looked out the door in time to see Truman toss something in the air. "What the hell is that?" I said as I walked out the door. Truman dropped it and it was a mole. I am not sure if it was a child, teenager or adult as the amount of mole knowledge I have could fit in a thimble.  I keep the dogs from coming back to it and tell the other "gotta go and save a mole". I tried to corral it with my sock feet and get it back to where I thought it belonged. It kept going in circles. Apparently being blind and tossed around by dogs makes you act like you have just had a long enjoyable evening at the bar.

I decide that I need to pick him(I don't know how to tell what sex a mole is) up and carry him across the yard to a "safer" place where he can burrow in to one of the many mole holes already there. I reach down and gently touch the little sucker while talking to him in a calm voice explaining I am not going to hurt him. He did the holy hell don't kill me flip to his back and cover his face with his front webbed feet. Ok so I guess I will just pick him up. Worst case is he scratches me with his nails and pees on me. As I began to gather him in my hands he screamed! SCREAMED I tell you!!  Did you know moles screamed? I sure did NOT!

Well that is not going to work. I decided to go in an grab a dish towel to wrap him in. I get the dogs to go in the house, amazed they actually listen to me, and grab a towel. I went back out and wrapped him up and took him to where I thought he belonged. He did not scream so I think the dark in the towel may have made him feel safe. What do I know? I am not a mole psychologist.
I got the little guy over to some soft dirt and put him down, I watched for a bit until I saw a freaking arachnid run across the ground. I said F this!  Good luck little guy, hope you find your mole family.

He must be ok since I have not seen a mole carcass in the last few days!

Sweatpants & Mumus

While speaking with the significant other regarding my perceived failure of attaining my "goal" in physical fitness he sighed and said "why can't you just workout for fun (because I DO enjoy it) and let your body be what it is?"
WHAT?!?!? I looked at him like he sprouted a second and third head! Are you insane??? That is the DUMBEST thing I have heard from you in a while!
How is that even possible? I hated my body when it was at the peak of its physical fitness pinnacle!  I was an embarrassing 132 lbs (which is about 12 lbs more than I was used to) and a tiny pillar of solid muscle. I was wearing the smallest clothes I had worn in years and I was fit! Yet when I looked at myself, which I desperately avoid, I was still out of shape, fat, blech. So if I hate myself at the most fit I have ever been and probably ever will be how in the world does he think I can "let my body be what it is"???

While I appreciate the fact he loves me and if I have an extra few lbs on me he doesn't care it is also difficult because he is so accepting and I am not.

I put on a pair of jeans the other day that a couple of months ago were loose on me and I had to do the fat dance and wiggle to get them over my thighs and ass. Then I cried AGAIN! If you know me at all then you know crying pisses me off, it makes me feel weak. But here I am trying very hard to get to a goal and I am going in the WRONG F'ING DIRECTION!!!!!!

I am frustrated and angry and sick of hating this body that God so graciously gave me. Just because I want to be a willowy 5'9" or so doesn't mean I will EVER get there. I can't I am 5'5" and "athletic" built which to me means chubby.  

I think the significant other is just as tired of me hating myself. I try to avoid any conversation regarding me and my body with him. I know he will sigh and say they same things over and over. He is tired of saying it and I am tired of hearing it.

I hate shopping and this is why. I don't like to look in the mirror and you kind of have to when you try clothes on. Plus when I get to the fitting room I shrink 3 inches and gain 15 lbs. Think I am going to a pool party or boating with friends??? Hell NO!!! I was talking with a friend this morning after my run and decided I will live in sweatpants and mumus.
My mom will bling them for me then I can be a giant sparkly tent!

I hope you all have a great weekend and are headed in the RIGHT direction of your goals!

Fitness

For most people the word fitness brings to mind your physical body, exercise, pain and tears! Especially when you fall off of a treadmill in a PACKED gym with lots of hot college dudes working out right behind you!

That is for another day unless I get back to it in a minute.

For ME fitness is about my physical health but also my spiritual health. MY spiritual health is equivalent to an 83 year old drinking, smoking biker chick with many scars from a life of chaos.  Ok maybe she is more like 32 but LOOKS 83.

I have dipped my toes in the religion pool, testing the waters of several denominations. I settled in to the Catholic pool and converted several years ago. At the time it felt like home for me.  As they years went by I started to feel worse AFTER church then I did before!  What the heck father!!!  I guess I took off my life jacket and submerged myself in the faith. Don't get me wrong, I am NOT dogging Catholics, their beliefs, their rituals, their church. I am simply stating that in MY opinion that specific teaching is very guilt based. I had plenty before I went to church I really did not need to add to my bucket!

I felt like I was drifting farther and farther from God instead of getting closer. No matter how hard I swam, flailing my arms and kicking my feet I kept getting swept down the river. It hurt. I was sad and disappointed and empty.

I stopped attending the church, unless I had to go for Dylan. I stopped kicking and flailing and let myself be swept away by the current of anxiety, grief, emptiness, and despair.  I didn't really give up on a relationship with God but I did stop fighting for it.

I have started swimming again, dog paddling my way back through the muddy, painful waters (for you Princess Bride people it would be like getting out of the pit of despair or for you NeverEnding Story people it is the swamp of sadness).  For me this means reading a daily devotional and when I start to feel like I am slipping back down the river I close my eyes and ask God to rescue me.  He does!

Both types of fitness take a conscious effort. EVERY SINGLE DAY! From exercising your body to eating healthier to praying and spending time in the word. EVERY SINGLE DAY! I am NOT on a soapbox or screaming this from my ivory tower (that sucker burned down with my soapbox in it) I am merely stating that taking time out of every day to focus on fitness is important, do as I say not as I do!  :-)

Ok really fast:  I was training for a half marathon and would sometimes go to the gym and run the treadmill. I was on the one by the wall and there were several weight machines behind it. They were packed with hot guys (in my mind they keep getting hotter) and all the treadmills were being used. I was running next to the full-face make-up walker while reading a magazine chick. So I had hit a baby wall at about mile 5 or so and like I do while running outside I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep cleansing breath.  I knew I was keeping up with the the treadmill pace I had set. After that one short second I opened my eyes and oh shit I was drifting off the back and to the side (wall side) so I stepped off (like a drunk trying to do the one leg stand during a car stop) and lost any balance I had and slammed my right side in to the wall. BAM!
Little miss make-up walker magazine reader looks over at me with a look of disgust as I am jumping back on the treadmill, I smile sheepishly then run the rest of my run with my head down. As soon as that sucker hit 6 miles I shut if off and sprinted to the door!  I never used that treadmill again!

Happy fitnessing to you! (new word I just made up! You are welcome :-)  )

Farm Life

We live on 10.5 acres of wooded and most of the time un-mowed land. To say we live on a farm would be inaccurate. We live BY a farm so we get the sights (trucks, trailers, tractors, barns), smells (cow poop), and sounds (cows, chickens, donkeys).

I think it would be correct to say we live in the country. When I think of country life I think of no neighbors for a mile or so. WRONG!!! We have neighbors in our back pocket, or front if you want to get technical about it. They are right next door and across the street. So close I can hear the neighbor kids playing basketball.

So much for peaceful country life. At least we don't have people driving by with stereos so loud our windows rattle and fire trucks 6 blocks away.

I have lived on farms/ranches before and did not really appreciate how quiet it was. I enjoyed the quiet of course but did not appreciate it.

As I have mentioned, we have 3 dogs, 2 cats and 1 teenage boy.  He is pretty much a slug who lives in his room :-)  Not really but I like to tease him.
With 3 dogs and 2 cats comes a certain amount of chaos, stress, hilarity and mess.

Our dogs have figured out that free range country life is bad ass. When we first moved here in August 2013, they would take off and explore for miles. They have since set parameters, which I am not privy to, and 89.73267% of the time they are in the yard or on the deck.

The other portion of the time is spent playing or laying in a pond or some body of water they have found.

This was not always the case!

Week 1: Truman comes home happy as a dog who just rolled in death or shit or both! Holy cow it was awful!!!  I am on poop duty (doodie) since I won't have a complete and total barf-o-rama. (Stand By Me).
I had to tie him to a pole and wash him 3 times and his face still smelled mildly of cow crap.

After we got Talia and she started running with Truman and Avery things got even more interesting or disgusting, whatever.
All of a sudden random body parts started showing up. None human that we could tell.
A cow leg here, I am talking a WHOLE leg! Complete with a knee, fur and a hoof. A deer leg there, same scenario. Oh and look! A SPINE! How fun!!! Talia tries to bring the spine in the house so here I am having a tug of war with a SPINE and explaining to the puppy that "no spine in the house".  We have jaw bones with teeth, hip bones, more spine, a dead snake (in DECEMBER), an ENTIRE opossum skeleton with a bit of meat left(smelly), cow pelts, deer pelts, rabbit pelts, and rabbit bodies. Talia was running around with a rabbit head like it was a ball! Dead moles, a couple of squirrels, 3 sets of antlers and more cow and deer legs than we can count. I am certain I am missing something from this list.

With all of the parts Talia has given us we could make Frankencow. Complete with a spine, rabbit head, fur and antlers. It would be an interesting creature.

I forgot to mention the skunk incidents. 2 of em so far. Last night Avery got a face full of skunk. She looked like a recruit on pepper spray day! :-)

As I sit here writing this I hear the dogs come thumping up the deck so I look up and what do I see???? Talia with a WHOLE rabbit! It is fresh and she is happy!

Well I gotta go and take the rabbit away form Talia, mean mommy!

Did I mention Talia has done all of this in only 7 months!!!

Mother's Day, Father's Day and Coconut Pie Day

They all mean the same thing to me...NOTHING.  For me they are just days and I am ok with that. Of course I had a mom and dad. Two of each actually. Birth mom and dad and adopted mom and dad. You might be thinking to yourself that I am a lucky kid. WRONG WRONG WRONG.  Birth mom wasn't "selfless" and loved me so much she let go, she was lazy and selfish and didn't want the hassle. She also waited for 5 years.  OH but your adoptive parents must have LOVED you. Eh doubt it.
Yeah they adopted me (it was birth moms sister and brother in law) but they didn't want me any more than she did. What about birth dad???? He was GONE. Off to the military he went and I didn't meet him until I was 16. 

I am struggling with the whole
 "Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you."  Exodus 20:12  

I had "parents" if you will, but I did not have parents.  I have finally made peace with that fact and I have learned forgiveness for one of them, still struggling with the other.  When these holidays come around I feel like I am having this shoved down my throat and while I agree that it is good to acknowledge your parents and the love they have for you I also know that there are parents out there that do NOT deserve acknowledgment. 

That being said I will celebrate these two days with my new family, the only one I have really had, and honor "mom" for raising her children to be the wonderful people they are. I am happy to have them in my life. I will celebrate "dad" in June because for the first time in my life I feel as though I am genuinely cared about and they really are happy to have me in their lives.

They are NOT my parents, they are not even my in-laws but I love them as they though they are. In my heart they are and for me that is what counts. It took me 37 years to get a mom and dad but hey, the ones I got are pretty spectacular :-)

What about coconut pie day???? Here is the thing about coconut pie, I hate it. I won't celebrate it. EVER.  If I had to choose between eating a piece of coconut pie or giving Dylan a foot rub I would choose the foot rub. I don't like feet :-(  That is a story for another day :-)

SO for all of the moms out there who really love their kids and take care of them I salute you! 

Dogs, Who knew?

Dogs are HILARIOUS!  Unless they are channeling Cujo and trying to eat your face off.

Well duh Theresa! That is part of the reason people love dogs.  Yeah well I did not know this until Marc and I got together. 

I hated dogs, ok not really the dog but the idea of dogs.  They bark, lick, jump, and NEED you. UGH!! No thanks! I didn't want or need the constant "mom" "mom" "mom" of a dog because unlike children dogs do not grow up and move out. Nope you are stuck with the perpetual toddler for the rest of their lives.  

Enter Avery.  Dylan WANTED a dog so bad and Marc liked dogs so it wasn't that big of a deal. Avery took a few days to get her name because we just could NOT think of anything, plus she was a puppy that hadn't shown her personality yet.  Well her full name is Darth Avery Tan Lord of the Sith Empire (the boys are big Star Wars fans, I love Darth).  She has proven many times over that we named her correctly! Wow! Can we say ubber bitch :-)  She is funny! Her attitude and personality won us over and we just love her snarkyness!

Well poor little Avery puppy was lonely, playing in the big back yard all by herself so Marc said she needed a friend. He saw Truman on the news, Helping Hands features pets, and fell in love. He said "I want that dog". 

I was not impressed. It's a dog, so what... Truman (the name helping hands gave him) cracks me up on a daily basis. He drove me out of my freaking mind when we lived in town though. He is so neurotic and had TONS of energy to burn. Once we moved to the country he has turned in to the happiest, goofiest, trashiest (long hair) dog. We LOVE it!!

So there we were, Marc had Truman and Dylan had Avery and I didn't care and was fine with both dogs but not a dog lover.  

One day I was getting my nails done and my friend Michelle mentioned a person she knew found a boxer on the side of the road and they could not keep it. They called the vets in the area and no one reported a missing dog. They posted it on Facebook and nothing. Marc had talked about the boxers he had previously and how great the breed was so I told him about this dog and asked if we could go see it. It was a girl.  

His stipulation was that it can't have long nasty nails, tumors(Boxers are known for them), nasty teeth  or nipples of a mother dog.

We pull up to the house the lady opens the gate and I lost my heart. The very second I saw her I KNEW she was MINE and I was HERS!!!  My Maggie. She was the most beautiful dog I had ever laid eyes on. In reality she was NOT the most beautiful dog. She was white with brown eyes, had tumors, long icky nails, nasty nasty teeth/gums, and she had had puppies.  She was dirty and scrawny and I was in love!!!  

That was the moment I got it, I know now why people love dogs.  I could not wait to get my baby home and start giving her the best life ever!  I was so excited to show her to the family.  They were not as enamored by her as I was :-)  In fact one of them asked "does that dog have a glass eye?"  

Her breath would make you pass out and her toots could clear a giant living room with 15' ceilings but she was perfect! She had the BEST attitude, unless you were a kitten then she tried to eat you.

I could go on for days about this girl!!! She was my soul mate! Marc is my true love and I have to remind him and Dylan that I do love them more than Maggie, or at least as much :-).   

We still have Avery and Truman and have since added Talia to the pack but none of them even come close to making my heart as happy as my beautiful Maggie.  July 26, 2014 will be one year since I said good bye. I think of her daily and cry often but most of the time I smile and laugh remembering how happy she was and how happy she made me.

Avery

 Truman

Talia

Maggie