morning color

This is our first year in this -new to us- home. It has been such a unique blessing to experience the seasons for the first time in a home that the former owners loved and took pride in. The flowers pop up in unexpected places like surprise presents from the earth. When we moved in at the end of last summer there were just a few of these pretty lilies blooming. We had no idea what a display they would give us in the spring. I love to look out in the morning at all the color, and I really LOVE cutting fresh flowers to enjoy inside.

These vibrant orange lilies stand straight and tall, almost like bushes. They were kind of unsightly this winter, and honestly we thought, not knowing what they were, of mowing them down. I am so glad we didn't!

At the end of the sidewalk are two rose bushes. One of them has bloomed wildly, with showy pink blossoms. I think it is done now. The smaller of the two is a bit tardy, but now has beautiful lavender blooms. I have never seen anything like it, It was definitely worth the wait!

I am a bit sorry for the old owners, that they are not getting to enjoy the fruits of their labor, but I truly love our new lawn full of color.

the worst of it is over

Lets chat about my Endodontist appointment shall we?

At the risk of sounding a tad bitter, can I just say to all of you who e-mailed me with stories of glorious pain free root canal experiences, that I hate you. No, I truly do, and I stand by my claim to be more willing to give birth to a 10lb. baby med free then go to the dentist, and we can now add Endodontist to that list. I can claim it cause I've done it, and believe you me, I will labor any day of the week!

Lets not even mention the pain for a moment, can we just start with the pure humiliation of dental work. It all begins with wearing a paper bib.....I need say no more. But alas, I cannot help myself. Then there are the sugary promises by the tech people with their blond hair, and perfect smiles, promises that it will only pinch for a moment, and that this doc, their doc, is the best. Throughout the procedure I was promised 4 times that I was over the worst of it, 4 times! Do you know how many of those times I believed them? Only when the humiliating bib was removed did I think there was any hope that the worst was over.

The bib and the promises were only the beginning though, then came the x-rays. That's the part where an unmanageable contraption is placed between your teeth, and you are instructed to bite down, and not swallow. Guess what I have to do as soon as someone tells me not swallow? That's right, the only thing I can think to do, is swallow.

Soon there is the application of the oral numbing paste. Oh, yeah, and as providence would have it, it was my all time favorite flavor, bubblegum! How many elementary students get root canals? Not many I would guess, not enough to warrant bubble gum flavor at the Endodontist's office, and by the way, I would probably actually like it, if it really did indeed taste even remotely like bubble gum.

After the numbing paste has sufficiently made my tongue feel three times it's natural size, the doc came in to meet me for the very first time. Great I thought, I don't feel humiliated at all. Now I am lying on my back, with a paper bib around my neck, and drool running out of the corner of my mouth, attempting to answer 20 questions. "What do I do, how many children do I have, what are their ages..." Have I even mentioned yet that tears are already running down my temples and into my ears from the shear anticipation of the experience that I was about to endure. I am sure this fact was not lost on the docs assistant as she repeatedly patted my hand with assurance.

This is when the questions began about my past experiences with the dental profession. Here is the jest of my story. Dentist can't get me numb, dentist keeps pumping me with Novocaine, or what ever that evil stuff is that is in that huge syringe at the end of that extremely large needle, Dentist pumps still more of evil substance in my gum, proceeds to drill, only to have to scrape me off the ceiling, paper bib and all, and then pumps more evil. Numbness never occurs in the tooth region, but migrates up covering my whole right side from under my eye to the right pectoral. I begin to panic, Dentist assures me I will be fine as he instructs his assistant to call my husband, and I have to lay in the torture chair until my heart stops racing, and my prince charming arrives to save me from the evil Novocaine pumper. end of story. Were you wondering why I was so afraid? Well, now you know. My Endodontist gets the even shorter version, and gives me some mambo jumbo about how he will get me numb, and it will be a piece of cake. He lost me at the mention of cake, as my stomach was already growling for lunch.

As if the humiliation was not yet quite enough at this torture chamber, they proceeded to fit me with a very stylish fluorescent green rubber screen that as they explained, was meant to protect my face. The corners of said screen was ruffly poking my left nostril, and my right eye. I am sure it was a very pretty picture, and also very unlike any cake I have ever witnessed. The screen was attached to the molar, tooth 31 I believe they called it, at the center, so it covered my whole mouth accept that one singular sick tooth. Can you picture that now, and under that contraption I am trying to hold my mouth open wide enough for this new torturer to get both of his hands, his syringe full of evil, the assistants hand, and the sucky mouth vacuum thingy into it. Then the nightmare happened all over again, minus the migrating thing thank goodness, and the husband calling part, because he was already there. For some reason my mouth is resistant to whatever that evil substance is that they use. I think I counted about 5 shots, maybe more.

When all was said and done, and I sulked back to the front desk, they asked me to wait, that the doc wanted a word with me. I immediately reverted back to the 4th grade when I was called on the intercom to report to Mr. Vanderwall the Principal's office. My brain raced to find a reason for my trouble. I had been reduced to a humiliated 4th grader, and I stared at the brushed nickel door nob and contemplated for just a moment making a run for it!

Soon the torturer emerged. He was a small man, tanned skin, and big teeth. He had a warmness about him, and his face looked a bit sheepish. "I'm sorry" he said kindly "about that" he stammered. "It doesn't usually go like that", he looked at the floor "I'm sorry" his voice trailed off as he padded away. I looked up, the office manager was glued to me. Her face was marked by compassion. I then entered the waiting room, empty but for my sweet man. I used the restroom to have a mini meltdown, while Michael paid the considerable bill, which by the way Jen, as big as it was, did not hurt even remotely as much as my mouth.:)

So there you have it, six hours later I am still numb, but like they said, the worst of it is over. RIGHT????

check out some more real life here

This year was different

We have never really made much of Memorial Day at our house. Michael usually has had to work, and we have usually just done school, as we do every other day. I try always to remember to thank God for our service men and women, both past and present, but it has never been a day set apart much from the others.

This year was different.

We made plans to do it the American way, and we got tickets to see our favorite team, the Braves , play baseball. We ate popcorn, and salty soft pretzels. We drank to much ice cold Coke, and sang "Take me out to the Ballgame". We laughed, we clapped, and we did the Tomahawk chop while hooting like Indians. Some of us got a bit too much sun, and all of us participated in the wave. We sang The National Anthem, and God Bless America, and I watched as my men removed their hats in respect. We watched Chipper hit one out of the park, and we cheered our Braves to a valiant victory over the Phillies.

We had fun!

See that white dot above my oldest Dakota's left shoulder? That was the spot that Hank Aaron's ball hit when he broke Babe Ruth's home run record. The old stadium is now the parking lot. Michael was present that record breaking day, and we listened as he reminisced about precious childhood memories of seeing the Braves play.

All of this was fun, and nothing can replace good times together as a family. The ribs after that were also truly delicious, but my favorite time of the whole terrific day, was the pre-game show.


The Braves organization honored our war veterans, both the living, and those that are not. The baseball diamond was circled by men and women of the armed services in uniform, surrounding war heros that represented each branch. beyond the bases stood the families of many of our heroes that are either deployed, or are not coming home. There was a movie presentation saluting our heros on the huge screen that sets Turner field apart from most others, a very moving presentation. The whole stadium seemed to stand at attention, and listen.



I was truly struck by the sacrifice our service people have made, and continue to make, as I enjoyed the very freedoms that they so bravely fight, and have fought for.

I was stuck by the pictures of men the ages that my sons now are, and thought of the Mommas, and wives, and babies, that those young men left behind.

I was reminded of my own Fathers service in the Korean war, where as just an 18 year old boy he flew for the very first time, was shipped miles and miles from home, to a country he knew very little about, to see and experience unspeakable things. He has raised four children, Is Grandpa to 11, and great grandpa to 5. He is a strong, and brave, and Godly man, but his service to our country did not come without sacrifice.

Lots of men have done what my Father did, good men, some that lost more then their boy hood, and I was moved, and reminded, as I enjoyed precious moments with my family, that all that we so flippantly revel in, was purchased at a very high price.

So, I just wanted to say thank you, if you are one of those who have served, is serving, or is going without the one you love because of service. Thank you!

We remember, this Memorial Day

To all those who have served, and are now serving, Thank You.

We remember, and we will not forget!

uninvited guest

Look who showed up on our front door step (literally) last Saturday. He's just a puppy, so alone,flea bit, tick infested, and hungry. He looked as if he hadn't eaten in days. He scratched at the door, and peered through the front window, as if he knew he was home.

I knew we were in trouble when the kids started suggesting names. I was afraid he was a drifter, and would soon be gone of his own accord to weasel his way into yet another families hearts. We all were smitten with him, perhaps mostly out of compassion, and some pity. He cries like a pup who misses his momma, stumbles over the big feet that give clue to his future as a big dog, and relentlessly attempts companionship with the most sceptical one of all.

Princess Diana of Whales, does not care for the interloper, and isn't afraid to let it be known! We think she is protective of us, and seems to view him as a responsibility rather then a playmate. She scolds him when he chases our car into the garage, and chides him if he touches her, or interferes with our ability to give her attention. She pretends to ignore his youthful antics, but follows him, if he follows us. She has not been caught yet "playing", as she is much to dignified for such things, but we know she secretly dreams of partaking in the bouncing and bounding that characterises the pup. Perhaps one day her highness will loosen up and find a loyal companion in the energetic toddler.

In the mean time, we hope our uninvited guest sticks around, and becomes one more piece of the puzzle that makes up our family. If he does, I think we have decided to call him CHIEF. Welcome Chief, we're so glad you found us!

Jethro was his name!

Well, the torture (OK so I knew I was spelling that wrong yesterday, and I was just checking to see if you all would catch it, and you did, so would you like a brownie button, or a chest to put it on?) chamber was not too horrible, The tooth Doc just took a few pictures, and eighty dollars later told me who to call. I haven't called the root canal Doc yet. Yes, you heard me right, the root canal Doc and I, are going to do business, so I can avoid looking like Granny Clampett before my time. Believe it or not, I'm not too torn up about it, after all, they have to put me out for that right????? Tell me I'm right ....please!

Michael went with me, cuz I am such a wimp when it comes to TORTURE and all, and we went for lunch at Ruby Tuesday's afterwards. Apparently my tooth is not hurting so bad that I couldn't scarf down some of their fabuliciouse (I don't have to spell that right, I made it up myself smarty pants) salad fixings! What about those yummy croutons....nothing like em!

Oh, Oh, I remembered his name, Jethro! Jethro was the Clampett son. Why didn't someone tell me before I spent the day with that question boring a hole in my head? So any way, I used to be neighbors with his first wife in real life. ....as if!

If that makes no sense to you, well, join the club, or maybe reading my last post will help.

You can pray for Lumberjack boy now if you will. He got in a little tussle with the table saw, and I don't have to tell you who won that one. One trip to the emergency room, three different prescriptions, one tetanus shot, one morphine shot, and more Lidocaine shots then we care to remember, 13 stitches, and lots of gauze, and he should soon be back in business. It could have been so much worse, so we are very thankful. We would have you pray for quick healing, and no infection, and full recovery if you would. Thank you.

magnetic art wall

Hey, long time no post .....Heh?

My newest project has been sooooo much fun, I just had to show y'all what i have been up to, well, among lots of other stuff!

Check out our new magnetic art wall for our soon to be playroom!

I used that cool as grits magnetic paint that RUST-OLEUM makes, and it is going to be so much fun for the kiddos to use to show off their one of a kind creations.

Here is the wall with some of their art..below. I never know if I should talk about the photo above my words, or below??? Is there a right way? someone educate me please.

Where are the magnets you ask???? Well that is exactly what I wanted to know......I couldn't find any, so I had to use tape!!! How crazy you say, you could have just taped the original masterpieces on the wall, instead of spending all that money, and time, using that cool as grits magnetic paint, you say?

That's what I'm screaming!

Not for reals though, cuz it's like 1:00 am and everyone is sleeping soundly, so I am just whispering my frustrations!

It was really fun though, and the rug rats adore seeing their rifity raff on the wall all framed up pretty, and when I do find some magnets, and I will, it will be oh so easy for them to change out the old, and replace with the new.

well, except that way up high oval, I can't even reach that, but, that's what step ladders are for right?

Just to give you an idea of the scale of this wall, those are two nine and a half by eleven sheets in the big red frame in the center.

Here are few more closer shots of some of the details.........
errr uhhh, below....down there.

Hope you enjoyed!
Check out some other cool paint projects at the new CSI project blog.

and, some best DIY projects here.

I've been working hard on this playroom , lots of trash to treasure projects, some cutsified drapes, some paint here, some fabric there, and I'm going to sharing them all soon. So, if you enjoy that sort of thing, well then, y'all come on back now, ya hear?

I don't really talk like Ellie Mae Clampet in real life, just like I don't really scream stuff in the early morning hours. Not usually.

Hey I have to go to the torcher chamber tomorrow, otherwise known as the dentist, so please pray for me. I would literally rather give birth to a ten pound baby med free, then go to the mean ol' tooth doc. I am not even lying to you.....seriously, but I am in pain, and I must get rid of it, or I will start looking like a screaming Granny Clampet. Oh, I used to be neighbors with the son Clampets first wife in real life....I can't remember his name, not Jed, that was the Dad....You know the one, tied his highwater jeans up to his armpits with a rope, and fetched opossum for supper every day???? Really, she was a model for me in a few fashion shows in my former life....long long time ago. Pretty lady, even had all her teeth, unlike me if I don't get to bed, and stop rambling.