Lousy Parents

Erik and I are lousy parents.

We didn't teach any of our three oldest kids to ride their bikes.

But somehow, they all managed to learn to ride a bike without training wheels before they were five years old.

In fact, just tonight, Will jumped on Maggie's old bike and started to ride it.  WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS!  Literally, he jumped on the bike, pushed off with his feet and started riding.  I wasn't paying any attention and Walker started yelling, "Mom! MOMMA!  LOOK AT WILLIE!" and I turned to look at this little blur whizzing by me on a pink bike.


It's another bittersweet milestone here at Goodness Grows Farm.  Luckily I ran inside to grab the camera and get it on tape!

This guy is going to be the death of me!  But I love him more and more every day!  Here's a series of pictures of our Willie J.  His sister took the first one, but all the rest are self portraits.  (Sorry about the boogars).

Disappointment Averted

I have been looking forward to an upcoming event in Pittsburgh like you can't believe.

This event has me at the level of anticipation I haven't felt since I was a tween and my parents got my sister and me tickets to see "Tiffany" at the Clearfield County Fair.



What event has me in a tweenish-twitter?


THE PIONEER WOMAN!

That's right!  She's coming to Pittsburgh!

Given the level of anticipation and excitement I have regarding this event, you can imagine how my heart dropped when I went to the Barnes and Noble website today and saw that the event had been CANCELLED!  I seriously thought I was going to be a little sick.

I called the store to confirm the disappointing news and all she could tell me was that the event was cancelled at her store but it was still happening SOMEWHERE IN PITTSBURGH!

What?  Granted, Pittsburgh is a small city, but you can imagine how many bookstores are in the greater Pittsburgh area!

Thankfully, the PW website has a book tour schedule and I was able to find the new venue information relatively easy.

I've still got The Pioneer Woman on my schedule for Monday, March 19.

I'm so excited.  It's ridiculous how excited I am to see her.  Like, so excited that my imagination is running away with the thought that if I don't share the fact that the venue has been changed for the event, people won't find out about it and I will be the only person to show up for the book signing.

Seriously?  What is wrong with me.  And how scary is that thought!?  Don't be scared, Ree.  I promise, I'm pretty normal.

Disappointment Averted.  I can continue with enjoying this beautiful, warm, sunny day.

If You Tell Your Wife You've Planned A Date Night

If you tell your wife you've planned a date night . . .

She will be very excited but will immediately think of a million little chores that need to be done before she can leave.

First, she will bundle up her children in clothes suitable for sunny, yet cold and windy March weather and she will ship them outside with the threat of "Don't come back to this house until I call you for lunch!"

Then, she will sweep the floor (even though she just did it yesterday).

She will do laundry (even though she just did it yesterday).

She will clean out the refrigerator to see what ingredients she has to make dinner for the children and her in-laws (who are graciously babysitting).  She decides she will make a chicken parmesan pasta.

She will note in the clean out process that the refrigerator is basically full of condiments and juice, so she will go to her desk to write down a list of some things to buy at the store on date night.

Once at the desk, she will remember to look at her carefully plotted out menu planner and see that she had written down "Chicken Pot Pie with Cheesy Biscuit Topping" on the space for today and will re-think her plan to make Chicken Parmesan Pasta.

She will then go to the kitchen and search for the recipe she wrote down for the Chicken Pot Pie with Cheesy Biscuit Topping and will decide to go ahead and cook the chicken quarters now.  After all, they are what must be cooked for the recipe - everything else can be decided later.

She will season the chicken and puts it in the oven.

She will find the recipe for the Chicken Pot Pie with Cheesy Biscuit Topping, review it and realize she does not have buttermilk for the biscuits and debate whether she should just make buttermilk with vinegar and milk or look for the other cheesy biscuit recipe that she has.

She will then look for the other Cheesy Biscuit recipe, find it and return to her desk.

Then she will look at her meal planner again and realize that she has planned a complicated meal for Thursday night - the busiest night of the week.  She then erases the original meal and grabs a pencil to write in a new, less complicated one (like Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches).

When she grabs the pencil, she finds out that the pencil is not sharpened.  She grabs another and another, and none of them are sharpened.

She grabs an entire handful and takes them to the craft cabinet where she gets out the electric sharpener, plugs it in and inserts the first pencil to be sharpened.

She will not hear the whirring of the sharpener.

She will hear the oven timer go off and realize that it is time to flip the chicken, so she goes to the oven, flips and seasons the other side of the chicken and returns it to the oven to cook.

She will look into the pencil opening and realize that her four year old son had inserted a pencil ERASER first into the sharpener and got the eraser stuck in the sharpening mechanism.

She will unplug the sharpener and look for a pair of needle nose pliers to try to pull the eraser out.

After minutes of desperate searching, she will not find the needle nose pliers.

She will search for the miniature screw driver set she received at Christmas from one of her children.

She will not find it.

She will locate a screwdriver that she thinks will be appropriate and it will not work.

She will then gather ALL of the screwdrivers she can find which takes her to several different drawers in the kitchen, a few bedrooms, the linen closet and the laundry room.

She will finally find ONE screwdriver that will work.

She will then dismantle the pencil sharpener, and find the metal eraser cap is stuck inside the mechanism and cannot be maneuvered out with a screwdriver.

After some thinking, she will realize the only tool she has that will potentially work is a pair of manicure scissors.

She will go back upstairs and locate the manicure scissors.

She will use them to somehow manage to get that blasted metal top with the eraser OUT of the sharpening mechanism, get it all screwed back together on her first attempt and will then sharpen five pencils.

She will walk back to her desk and on the way see that someone had eaten Saltine crackers for breakfast and smashed several of them into the carpet.

She will ignore it.

She will sit down at the desk to finish what she started.

She will forget what she had started.

Just as she feels like she is on the brink of remembering why she sat down at the desk in the first place, she will hear the oven timer will go off again, indicating that another 15 minutes have passed.

She will go check the chicken.

She will then hear the buzzer on the dryer indicate the clothes are dry.

She will remove the clothes from the dryer,  insert the clothes from the washer, and start a new load of clothes in the washer.

She will realize it is almost lunch time and she has no idea what she is going to feed the kids.

She will open up the refrigerator, realize that the refrigerator is basically full of condiments and juice, and will remember that she had gone to her desk originally to write down a list of some things to buy at the store on date night.

She will then sit down and write a blog post about how she basically wasted the last hour and a half.

And that's what happens if you tell your wife you've planned a date night!

Trying Not To Get Excited

I'm a big fan of winter.  I like that it gets very cold and snows.  From December 1 to March 1 I would love for it to be about 20 degrees with at least an inch or two of snow covering the ground constantly.

Most people do not appreciate my view on Winter, which I can understand, but I still enjoy waking up to a blanket of white.  I know I am kind of prejudiced towards a typical winter, given Erik's winter profession providing snow removal, but it really doesn't have as much to do with our income as it does my hatred of mud.

I  HATE  MUD!

Hate it!

There's not a square inch of ground on our 40 acres that is without mud.  Most days, that includes my house.  It makes me nuts!  The amount of work mud creates for me is unbelievable.  Everyone in the house requires at least two changes of clothes per day.  Willie J, of course, requires at least three or four.  No one respects my boundaries of TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF AT THE DOOR and I frequently find someone traipsing through the house with muddy boots on.  Apparently, having mud caked boots is the only time my family remembers the rule:  If you need to talk to me, come find me.  Don't stand there and just shout "MOMMA!" If you are perfectly clean and want me, by all means, stand in your bedroom and yell for me when I'm down in the laundry room up to my elbows shouting out all of our mud stained clothes.  But if you are covered in mud and most likely manure and want me, please, by all means walk STOMP all through the house as you search for me.  Especially if I am in the upstairs bathroom.  There's nothing I love more than being disturbed during my bathroom break.  Unless of course, it's coming out of the bathroom to find a trail of mud down the stairs, through all the downstairs rooms and back to the laundry room where you are now taking off all of your muddy gear.

However, as we approach spring, I am looking forward to the warmer days and I'm getting used to the mud.  Although our cellar has a lot to be desired, we set it up over the weekend for the kids to be able to enter through the basement door, disrobe of their muddy attire, and come upstairs through the basement.  It has cut down on the mud considerably this weekend, which was especially important as I had spent the entire week thoroughly cleaning the house.  Like, moving furniture and washing baseboards kind of cleaning.  Three days in and we're holding pretty well.  I only had to sweep four times today and I didn't have to run the vacuum at all.

I'm also getting kind of excited over the fact that we may actually have a real Easter break.  Our school is scheduled to have the Wednesday before Easter through the Tuesday after off as part of their building in snow days into the schedule just in case.  We haven't even had a delay this year, which has been kind of sad, but I had looking forward to this potentially long break.

That was until I was reminded of the Ides of March.  This particular phrase has always stuck with me from High School - I want to say it was 10th grade - when we read Julius Caesar in English class.  In modern times, the term Ides of March is best known as the date on which Julius Caesar was killed in 44 B.C. Caesar was stabbed (23 times) to death in the Roman Senate by a group of conspirators led by Marcus Junius Brutus and Gaius Cassius Longinus. The group included 60 other co-conspirators according to Plutarch.^[2]
According to Plutarch, a seer had foreseen that Caesar would be harmed not later than the Ides of March and on his way to the Theatre of Pompey (where he would be assassinated), Caesar met that seer and joked, "The ides of March have come", meaning to say that the prophecy had not been fulfilled, to which the seer replied "Ay, Caesar; but not gone."^[3] This meeting is famously dramatized in William Shakespeare's play Julius Caesar, when Caesar is warned by the soothsayer to "beware the Ides of March."^[4][5]  

This sticks with  me because during my late high school years, the Ides of March (March 15) is the day before my mom's (and now Maggie's) birthday and we had two years of very bad blizzards around the Ides of March.  So I always associate the Ides of March with blizzards.  Last year was not too different as I discovered as I went through some pictures from last year.  I found these, taken March 11, 2011.

What a difference the snow makes.

I'll curb my enthusiasm for a while in anticipation of what could happen with the Ides of March, but I'll be enjoying these amazing, warm February days as we head into Leap Day.  And if March 2012 COMES IN and GOES OUT like a lamb, I won't complain!

Old Yeller

I'm a yeller.

I hate to admit it, but it's the truth.  I am embarrassed by it and you would think with the amount of education I have I would know better than to yell.  I do know better and I still resort to it.  Every time I do it, I feel guilty.  I promise myself and my children and God that I won't do it again and within minutes (often times seconds) I am yelling again.  It is ugly and it's not the mother I want to be.

Yesterday, after reading an email devotional and a lovely morning with my Book League girls commiserating about our "failures" as parents, I was left with guilt on my heart for my behavior.  I try to ignore it by blaming the behavior of my children, but it isn't their fault.  Although, I would wager that ANYONE  left with Willie J long enough will concur that it might be  a little bit his fault.  It left me with a fear that someday the children will look back on our time together and not know that  I cherished everything they brought to me, good and bad.  I am not ignorant to the fact that this is all my  perspective of the situation.  An outsider may look in at our house and think that my children are behaving completely appropriately and think (rightly so) that I'm over-reacting a little.  Most days, the "little" things are easy to ignore and I am not the crazy lady yelling at her kids ALL of the time.  But there are days when I feel like the bad is outweighing the good, when I have four half naked heathens running around with uncombed hair, dirty faces, toys strewn EVERYWHERE, eating their food with their hands and screaming just to hear themselves scream.  Days when I swear I could have put the following phrases on a loop and left the house because my presence was never felt.   Time honored phrases such as:

STOP TOUCHING HER.

STOP TOUCHING HIM.

I SAID STOP TOUCHING HER.

IF HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH YOU, WHY DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO TOUCH HIM?

EVERYONE KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF!

STOP TOUCHING ME!

I JUST WASHED THAT!

DON'T EAT THAT!

DON'T PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH!

NO!

I SAID NO!

IF I HAVE TO SAY NO AGAIN, I SWEAR . . .  

and I wonder if anything I am doing as a parent is doing anything to help these children grow into respectable, independent, productive adults.

It's so easy for me to resort to yelling and in doing so I'm not only harming my children in terms of hurting their feelings, I'm harming them because my yelling is empty parenting.  Yelling is me not wanting to take time to deal with the situation hands on and that's bad parenting.  So I'm resolving to do better by myself and my children.  Each morning, I will try to turn to God and ask Him for guidance to parent with wise words and a kind heart.  To take the time to parent with love and attention - the key factor being the attention.   So frequently, I am distracted by the things I need to be doing that don't involve my kids that I put off their requests until I am a broken record of  maybe, later, not now,  and tomorrow.   I want to turn to God to help me control my yelling and help me to convey to my kids my appreciation so they know how much I adored every single second I was blessed to spend with them.  

Because even though there are moments that I think I'm going to lose it, I have the privilege of being Momma to these precious ones and I am so very thankful.  So here are some photos of the very precious moments I find with my children.  

 Maggie on a recent trip back to my hometown.  Maggie is growing her hair out for my sisters wedding in June and it is just in an ugly phase.  She's got a crazy curl at the back of her neck which prevents her hair from being completely straight, but the top layers of her hair are completely straight and, well, it's really just a mess.  She's perpetually wanting to wear her hair down and I am constantly pulling it back into pony tails, pig tails and braids.  Some days she wants her hair "cwurled" and I oblige, but the "cwurls" just don't last.  I'm hoping a professional stylist will be able to get her hair to stay curled for the wedding day.

Whitaker raids the Valentine candy!

Lollipop, candy hearts and a book.  What more do you need?  Except two incisors?  This boy has his two year molars, but no incisors.  I'm starting to wonder if he might be a vampire since he only grew in fangs.

A beautiful day in February and the boys go for a ride on Willie's motorcycle.  This was such a precious day for me.  Willie struggles a lot with sibling rivalry in terms of over doing it with Whitaker.  He doesn't come out and hit him or be overtly mean to him.  Instead he loves on him too much.  He gives that extra long squeeze during a hug or pulls Whit along instead of holding his hand.  I've tried giving Willie lots of Momma time in the afternoon when Whit is asleep, but it hasn't been working.  On this day, I allowed Willie to take his new motorcycle outside to ride and he generously offered to take Whit with him and they enjoyed a great day together.  Will also took Whit to the swing set and he pushed Whit on the swings which was so sweet to watch.  

Willie is afraid to sleep by himself sometimes so he crawls up into the loft with Walker.  Walker never ever complains and he always makes room for him.  Even though Willie insists on sleeping like this!

Maggie and Willie love to pretend play mom and dad.  On this day, they were playing "Mary and Jofas."  (Joseph)  They complained that the towels they were using kept falling off, so I secured them with some old scarves.  I was a hero!

Whitaker isn't so happy about taking a picture with his Momma.

Walker on his actual 8th birthday.  We went to Dairy Queen to get whatever he wanted . . . a banana split.  Of which, he ate only the vanilla ice cream and the hot fudge.  Next time maybe he'll trust me when I say, "Why don't you just get a hot fudge sundae?"  He got the birthday crown at school that day and then I was surprised he wore the crown to the YMCA that night for his rock climbing club.  I have been anticipating the age of embarrassment coming upon him, but so far, he is still young enough to want people to know it is his birthday and do little boy things.  Even though he is growing into quite a little man.

Most nights the kids all want to sleep together.  We limit it during the week, but on weekends, they all want to sleep in the loft bed together.  So far, no one has fallen out!

Whitaker joined me in bed one morning with two chocolate chip pancakes and some cheerios.
He didn't share.

Willie and I baked cookies together for Valentine's Day.  He cracks me up with the towel on his shoulder just like me.  After we took this picture together, he spent about five minutes petting my face.  Willie is a petter and must always pet me.  I sometimes get annoyed by it - especially when I am not sure where his hands have been, but it's also one of the most uniquely "Willie" qualities he has. We baked the cookies and decorated them with Maggie and Walker and then the kids gave them to their classmates on Valentine's day.

For dessert on Valentine's Day, I made ice cream cookie sandwiches and we had heart shaped strawberries.

I don't know how they sleep like this!

My sweet angels!

Walker and his buddies on the way to Pittsburgh to see a movie at the Science Center.

Walker and his buddies after about 20 trips to the chocolate fountain bar!

Willie and Maggie get to have a slumber party in Maggie's room.  Willie is ALWAYS hot and takes his PJs and covers off.  Maggie is a bed hog and a crazy sleeper.

When I go in to check on Whit before bed, I never know what I'm going to find.

This night he looks like he's holding his crib up.

This night, he had to hide under his donkey.

Walker was surprised with a DS from his Nana for his birthday.  For some reason, he decided to sit in the doorway and play with it.  I think it was because I had suggested he might want to go outside to play.  I guess he misinterpreted what I meant by that.

As I proof read this post and review the pictures, I realize that most of the pictures I posted are of the kids sleeping.  Hmmmm. . . I suppose that's a little bit telling of where I've been lately in terms of where I find the most peace, but I am blessed with the gift of tomorrow.  A chance to do better as a mother.  A day with no mistakes.  A new day to give to my children what they are truly asking for and to show them my appreciation for their uniqueness.

Another day to thank God for the blessings those little critters are to my life.

We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Program

Hi!

How've you been?

It's been busy around here but that's not why I haven't been writing.

I went through a period that (from what I read on other blogs) is kind of common with bloggers like me (people who are blogging as a means of documenting family memories).  A period where I was internally debating whether what I was documenting was ethical to my family.  I mean, I don't really imagine my little anecdotes are going much beyond my family and friends, which is more than enough, but on the chance that they were, I was struggling on whether I was going to do irreparable damage to my children's' psyche by publishing the stories and pictures that I post with my entries.  I tried to imagine them at an adult age, reading some of the stories and wondered if they would find the stories an adorable set of memoirs where I documented their lives, or will they be angry about every little thing I documented and hate me?

Factor in all of the worries about weird perverts checking out my blog (and stealing innocent pictures) and I had a bit of a breakdown of my system for a while.

After some time in thought and prayer, I decided I would resume blogging as normal.  I know there are risks to what I post but there are risks every day of what I am doing, so I try to be as cautious as possible for my children, but I'm not going to stop recording our memories based on fear.  I've also chosen to believe that my musings will be considered a great memento of childhood for my babes and they will cherish me for documenting all of these silly stories and be glad for them.

Children, if you are reading this and you HATE ME for this blog, I'm sorry.  I didn't think it would cause any harm.  And I promise, I will only blog about you as teenagers if you do stupid things that I want to embarrass you about as a punishment and reminder to never do something that stupid again.  Or if you do something super exceptional (like win an award, get an A, or just wake up on time for school) and I will try not to embarrass you at all.  


So you might wonder what's new at Goodness Grows Farm?

Not much except a lot of GROWING!

I celebrated a birthday which pushed me into the next age bracket on surveys and questionnaires.  I'm now closer to the next decade than I was to the previous one.  That sounds weird when I think of it, but for the most part, I still think the 1990's were 10 years ago so my "age" doesn't affect me.

Christmas Eve was a bit different for us this year.  I ended up taking the children to my hometown for a quick visit with my family before Christmas.  We had a lovely meal on the 23rd with my Papa, Mom, Dad and a visit from my Aunt B. who was in town from Florida.  We drove home the morning of December 24 and then had a gathering at our house for Christmas Eve.  For some reason, our kids just started melting down one by one in the hour before we were to leave for Christmas Eve services, so we made a BOLD decision to stay home.  We got the kids in their jammies, settled in on the couch and read scripture and some Christmas books we have about the birth of Jesus.  It was something totally different from what I have done all of my life.  I think it was the first time EVER (well, aside from the day I was born) that I didn't attend a Christmas Eve service.  In it's own way, the night was peaceful and reverent.  I missed the tradition of the Christmas Eve service, but I am glad I have the memory we made instead of the one that could have been - you know, that one where we sat in church shushing our kids, wrangling Whitaker, not being able to pay attention to the music or the message because I am searching my purse for gum, pens, paper and other paraphernalia to distract my hoodlums so I can get something from the service.

Whitaker had already gone to bed, but I got one picture with my older three on my birthday.

Best of all, my dearly beloved bestowed me with some beautiful bling.

The kids exchanged presents to each other.  Will got Walker a watch

and Maggie a pair of Christmas socks.

Willie got a Lego kit from Maggie . . .

and was so excited that he gave his sister an unprompted bear hug as thanks!

 I have to say, that over the Christmas Holiday and into the last few months, we have seen such a generous side to Willie.  He was the first to raid his piggy bank to buy presents for his siblings.  He took a great pleasure in picking out the perfect gifts for them too.  I am so proud of his generous spirit and greatly look forward to  fostering this gift.

On their way to bed to wait for Santa!

Christmas morning was a blast!  Santa visited us and left some really great prizes and we had a nice leisurely morning opening presents, playing with them and having fun.

A few gifts didn't fit under the tree.  Like Maggie's Barbie Doll house - the ONLY gift she asked Santa for.  Santa found this gem at a yard sale last summer for $10!  It only needed a little elevator repair and some new furniture to complete it.  I have to brag a bit about Maggie on Christmas day.  She opened up all of her gifts under the Christmas tree and there was no doll house.  She looked under the tree, at me and then said, "Is that it?"  I told her "Yes" and she got a very sad and dejected look on her face, but picked up one of her new toys and sat on the couch to watch the rest of the kids open their gifts.  Her face obviously said, "I can't believe I didn't get the dollhouse I asked for!" But she never once complained or made fuss.  She just sat there until I suggested that there might be other gifts to search for that might not have fit under the tree.


Once the boys finished opening their gifts from under the tree, I sent them on a scavenger hunt.  She eventually found her doll house (after I prompted her with clues like, "What looks different in here from last night?"  and "LOOK UNDER THE BLANKET!")

Walker got a basketball hoop that Santa didn't finish building in time.  But that meant that Dad and Walker got to finish putting it up together.

When Erik and I went Black Friday shopping, we happened across this mo-ped at a really good price.  We forwarded the info onto Santa knowing Willie would love any type of battery operated vehicle.  A few weeks later, Willie told me he wanted a motorcycle for Christmas.  Kismet!  Willie has been zooming around the house on his flashy new Mickey Mouse Moped ever since!

Whitaker's big present was this giant plush Donkey.  He absolutely loves it and sleeps with it every night.  To get him to go to bed, I sing,

Where is Donkey, 

Where Is Donkey,

In your crib

In your crib

Let's go find your Donkey

And go to sleepy

go to sleep

go to sleep

Some more pictures of Christmas Morning.

Four days later, Erik and I were blessed to celebrate our 10th Anniversary.  

We hadn't planned anything very special and then at the last minute, thanks to Erik's mom, we were able to head to Pittsburgh for the night and enjoy an extravagant dinner at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse.  We pricelined a hotel room, made a reservation for dinner and had a lovely night away from home.  Our server at the restaurant made our dessert an event.

Erik chose a Creme Brule, I had a triple chocolate mouse (which was to die for) and the little chocolate round in the top center was a chocolate cheese cake.   This dessert and the potatoes gratin absolutely made the dinner.  It was a great one time experience, but I can't say it was the best steak I ever had.

Since then, we've been raising puppies,

and getting them sent off to new homes.

Except this one.  This is Lucy and she's Goodness Grows Farm's newest addition.

We've been playing in the barn.

 Getting Dirty.

Hunting Big Buck with our new Wii from Nana.

Visited the PA State Farm Show.

Played outside in the snow (when we have it).

Tried on and fit into size 18 month pants.  (This boy is 8 years old)
Got our braces off too.

Made (and devoured) this Buckeye Cake recipe courtesy of Pinterest.  If you haven't seen pinterest, don't even get me started.  It's probably another reason this blog has been suffering for three months.  Don't even look into pinterest unless you want to waste VAST amounts of time looking at what other people are looking at online!  It's worse than facebook!  I'm totally addicted but it's also inspired me to do all kinds of interesting things.  Ok, well, I dream about doing interesting things!

Just after New Years, we got a surprise visit from friends who had moved out to the Chicago area a few years ago.  It was an absolutely fantastic visit and we got to catch up on each others lives.  I'm now in cahoots to plan a trip to visit them in April since we have a long Easter break!  Hopefully they're cool with that!

And the boys put up a shelter for my van.  Now there's a big grey blob outside my back door.  I like that I don't have to scrape snow off my vehicle, but don't like that I can't easily see the back anymore.

We took Walker and three buddies to the Science Center to watch an Omnimax movie and then out to a buffet restaurant for dinner for Walker's 8th birthday.  It was a great day and we got a chance to hang out with some of the boys that Walker has been developing friendships with at school.  It was a great lesson for Erik and I that all eight year old boys are the same!  Crazy, inconsistent, and all movement! 

We're now in mid-February and have our first true "arctic blast" snowstorm of the season.  We got about three inches over night and once we finish making Valentine boxes and signing our Valentine cards we'll head out for some sled riding!

Thanks for coming back to see us.  I promise, I'll keep you posted.