Thursday, June 28, 2012

So It's Not Twins

Hey world.  I was going to do The Girl Behind The Blog video thing.  But I'm pooped.  Tired.  Wore out, at 12:51 in the afternoon.  Truth is, I've been worn out for a while.  You may have noticed (although you probably did not because you have a life and all sorts of your own things going on) that I have been sort of absent.  Let me assure you, it's not you, it's me.

On top of being pooped, I've also been harboring a secret, which is sort of linked to the whole exhausted thing.  But the secret is secret no longer.  

Hello world, please meet baby Mags:

We're still early on in this (unplanned, because it seems everyone wonders that) process (about 8-9 weeks).  I know it's risky to share at this point, as things are still so tenuous.  I say, life is tenuous.  I've had both friends and family lose a baby, and I know that it happens.  However, this, this life, this pregnancy, is happening right now, and I'm going to choose to focus on that, rather than the "what ifs".  All the same, if you find yourself with a spare moment and would like to say a prayer for me & baby Mags (and please, for my dear husband who is in for one heck of a ride), don't hold back!

Much love & napping,

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

So, Potatoes

I'm so excited, it's all I can do to slow my fingers down enough to type real words on here instead of alkdjfaoeifaioyfadjfi.  See, the other morning, I decided to spot check and see if the potato plants were ready.  The only way to know if the plants are ready is to actually dig one of them up and see if the potatoes are a good size.  Mine have been in the ground about 10 weeks, so I knew I had a shot (I think they're supposed to be 8-15 weeks, depending on the variety).  

These potatoes are from Potato Mountain
When I pulled these guys out, I wasn't thrilled, but I was excited.  Digging for potatoes is pretty much as close to finding buried treasure as I'll ever come, and I love it every time.  For size comparison, those tomatoes were about golf-ball size.  Not huge, but better than tiny.  All the same, I figured the plants still had a few weeks to go.  I wanted real potatoes, yo.

And then.  Oh my.  Then.

Then later that evening, Handsome decided we were having steak & potatoes & corn for dinner (because we love America, yes) and I sadly informed him that we didn't really have enough potatoes for everyone.  He asked if there were not other potato plants in the garden.  Obviously, I said yes, there were.  So we tried a different spot (the potato penthouses).  I dug.  And dug.  And kept digging.  And H. wasn't sure whether to tease me for a lack of potatoes, or console me.  It was almost demoralizing.  I had such high hopes.

And then.  OH MY.  Then.

Then I found them.  Pay dirt, it was hit.  BOOYAH!  Look at these babies!

Monday, June 25, 2012

Summer's Winding

So much of my expectations of summer rest squarely on the shoulders of food.  I expect summer to provide me with my yearly helping of sun-warmed berries, sweet corn-on-the-cob, and s'mores.  I expect lemonade and funnel cakes from the fairs & festivals that I expect to go to.  I expect icecream and cobblers, watermelon and tall drinks of water.

It's blowing my mind that June is nearly over.  I'm pretty sure it's early May still, and I'm anxiously awaiting something to happen in my garden.  I'm pretty sure I'm still eating fresh strawberries (it's so hard to say goodbye to them every year...) and can't wait  for watermelon to come around.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Since the Dawn of Time, Part 3

I started this story many many moons ago.  Parts 1, 2, and 4 are in the archives.  However, since I do things in my own order (Remember the curtains?  Bathrooms are still without.) I failed to ever write up part 3.

Basically, Part 3 is how we ended up here

I'm a maverick, what can I say.

Years ago, I had been pestering pressuring gently reminding my boyfriend Handsome that (1) Graduation was in 1 year, (2) I would be moving after graduation, and (3) Most weddings take approximately a year to plan.  Just as an FYI, no pressure.  Definitely not nagging, no, not me, never.

I finally decided to give up on the gentle reminders.  If H didn't mind that his 5-year deadline was fast approaching, then I was determined not to mind either.  I mean, I didn't give up entirely, since I was still crying to my mom at night, telling her that I'd have to end up moving to SC without Handsome, and wasting the last 5 years of my life, and on and on.  But I was trying desperately to be content with my current situation.

Enter July 4th.  I love the fourth of July.  The fireworks, the hot dogs, the overwhelming love for America; I buy into all of it.  And Handsome knows that I love it.  I really thought, this year, on our 5th 4th (wrap your head around that) spent together, I thought that would be it.  Don't get me wrong, I didn't expect the whole sky-writing thing.  Heck, a ring inside a hot dog would have worked for me.

Evening came, evening passed.  Fireworks went off.  We watched, we cuddled, I started to hold my breath.  If I would have kept holding my breath, I would have turned blue & passed out.  No ring.  No promise.  No happily ever after that night.  Torture would have been easier.

Conflict, BAH

I was right.

I don't like conflict.

Not that anyone is fighting, but the 3 not-quite-agreeing comments on the "Southern Parenting" post make me uncomfortable.

I know, I'm weak.

All the same, I'm removing it.

Don't be Hangry,

Monday, June 18, 2012


Lets start out by saying that I'm not the best housekeeper in the world.  Okay?  Are you all okay with that?  Because it's just fact.  I'm well aware that it is something that could be changed or worked on, as it's mostly habit, but it's just not ever something I worked on much.  Also for the record, I'd like to state that Handsome knew this going in.  I'm sure, when we were dating, I usually had my room clean when he came over (don't worry, we only hung out in there with the door open, and usually the company of my lil' bro.), but at the same time, it was obviously only a surface clean.  

We're talking there may have been cobwebs.  Judge me if it makes you feel better.

Anyhow, Handsome did not grow up in a house with the same laisse faire attitude towards housekeeping.  Handsome himself didn't do much of the work, but his mother worked tirelessly to make sure their home was clean and spotless.  And we're talking deep clean, take a toothbrush to the grout lines, clean.  But since his attitude about it all was pretty lackadaisical (aren't you just loving my words today?!), I thought we made a nice pair.

Then H got old.  Or hit his head.  Or was abducted by aliens.  Either way, about 6 months or more ago, he came home and started telling me all the ways that the current state of the house was not up to par.  He may have even started with "You know what your worst failing is as a wife?"

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Precious Times

Being an aunt away from my nieces & nephews can be a little bit tricky.  Especially when there seems to be more & more kiddos every time I come back to PA.  While we're apart, I try and buy their affection with numerous gifts and trinkets, but as I've said, when there are more & more of them, that too can be an overwhelming game.  Really, we're at the point now where remembering birthdays is getting to be a challenge.  Of course, my mind seems to be going in general, so that part is not surprising.

When I'm up visiting, I try and make time for each niece and nephew, if not one-on-one, at least in small groups. (it's all about the crowd control, people!).  This trip, I got to introduce a few littles to the wonderful world that is Tractor Supply.  What may seem like an everyday shopping stop is a whole new world to a few farm-minded small people when they get to climb on tractors (lawn mowers) and see all the cow paraphernalia.

I've noticed that things changed some this time around, too.  We've got a whole bunch of littles (4 & under), but there are two not-so-littles.  And one of them, you may know the stage, brought his friend to a family outing.  Seriously!  Before, it was always enough to get to see Aunt Mariah (*sniff sniff*) but it seems he  is old enough now to need friends around now to play with and make inappropriate noises at and do all of those pre-teen boy things together.  Apparently I'm not that good at armpit fart noises.  Who knew?!

In order to retain the affection of the other not-so-little, we had a girls night at the drive-in movies, complete with a snack bar purchase, playing tag, and her falling asleep 2 miles from her house.  In a word: magical.  She kept telling me how many hours/minutes past her bedtime it was.  Might have been my favorite night of the whole visit.

Sometimes this whole letting-them-grow-up thing is difficult, especially when they grow so much between visits.  I guess it's time for me to get to know them at the ages they are currently, rather than pining for 4 years ago when they were so cute and chubby and impressed with my ability to whistle.  Or I'll start making noises with my armpits, either way.

Got any tips for me?  How to stay close when you're so very far away?  I'd love to know if/how you do it!

Wishing for more cotton candy,

Wednesday, June 6, 2012


Cara won.
Amazon on hold.
Mom surgery tomorrow.
Up b4 sun.
5 batches cookie dough.
<3 PA spring.
June spring PA.
Kindle broken again.
Party Saturday.
Reading research waiting room.

What can you say in 30 words or less?
All I got,

Monday, June 4, 2012

reCAP Mason Jars Lid Giveaway

Because today is Monday...
and because I'm leaving my house tomorrow...
and because you're all just the best...

I've got a present for you!

It may look like a simple little lid, but let me tell you, this thing is revolutionary.

website here

Sunday, June 3, 2012


Sometimes, when you have a really nice time, and thoroughly relax and enjoy yourself, and then you come home and have loads of dirty laundry that smells like smoke (and cheese for some reason), and the love of your life is working and you have obligations and bills and papers and all that...

Sometimes you just want to run back up the mountain and climb back in the hammock and embrace the smell of smoke (but not the cheese) and take just one more nap.  One more hike.  One more early morning listening to birds and one more late night watching the moon and the fire dance.

 I love hammocks,
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