Simple Hobby Homesteading

So I innocently opened my dresser drawer while getting ready for church this morning and I saw them… spandex. It hit me like a ton of bricks that in five short months I would be spending eight straight days in spandex. At the same moment I realized that five months is also the gestation period for a Nigerian Dwarf Goat and Sebastian would certainly need to be separated from mama Ariel as he was unmistakably coming into his own in the buck department. Get ready for a new guy in Buckville boys! We don’t want any babies born on the farm while we are cycling down the California coast.

I think Kevin and I are officially calling this ride our honeymoon. We never had one after we were married 16 years ago and I think I even went to work the next day (quite possibly that same day… I can’t quite remember).

So I thought the night I went pig wrastlin’ (Read about that little escapade here…) I had started my training because I ran and ran and ran some more after that little pig racing champion (seriously, I think she won gold in the Olympics) but alas my drive thru McDonalds trip on the way home probably was a sign I wasn’t quite serious about training.

Add that to the fact that I’ve had my bike almost two weeks now and haven’t been on it yet may tell you that I’m procrastinating with this whole “stop eating Warm Delights cakes, start the cycling exercise program, and quit fooling myself that hobby farm chores keep me in “good enough” shape.”

Incentive… I need incentive. I need some instant gratification (bad on me, I know. Save the lecture for when we are enjoying a nice piece of chocolate cake together as I will surely be more receptive to what you have to say at that point). The ride itself… the 550 mile ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles to be specific, serves as motivation but five months is SO FAR away.

Raising money for the Arthritis Foundation is motivation but I hate asking people for money (hence my soap making and selling… I love making soap!) Wanna give me incentive and more motivation? Donate here for the Arthritis Foundation and make my California Coast Classic ride a reality. If I do all this training for nothing you all are in trouble… just kidding… or am I?

Back to the spandex. I saw it in my drawer… I didn’t put it on… yet. I will need to, and soon, but not today. I may scare the horses.

So I did find some incentive to this whole bike ride (the kids keep caling it a race and I keep correcting them that it is most assuredly a “ride.” They reply, “Dad is so gonna beat you in the bike race.” Ugh!) with the recent purchase of new bikes for the boys.

Our youngest son is nine and has never wanted to learn how to ride a bike. We got him one years ago and he put his foot down, no bike riding for him. However, with all the talk in the house about our big bike RIDE (not race) both boys are excited to jump on some bikes and do some family riding.

On the way home from getting the bikes our youngest son kept going on and on about how he was going to learn as soon as we got home. We had about 45 minutes of daylight when we pulled into the drive and he used every second of it to practice. Kevin and I took turns holding on to the back of the seat and running along, helping him to steer when he got nervous and refused to look up or straight ahead. He’s learning. He doesn’t have it down yet, but he’s learning. My heart was and is soaring. This was one of those “I can’t wait for it” moments… watching my husband teach his son to ride a bike.

So, I’m calling it… training starts today. Eating right, training, spandex wearing… all today! Well, the spandex may wait for tomorrow but the rest starts TODAY!

So my question is… do you all want to hear how it goes? Daily installments, weekly, only highlights/lowlights? Let me know 🙂 I think I’m actually excited about all of this, love it!

 

 

So last night I had a couple things that I really needed to do and I had planned my night perfectly to get them all done. They were simple things… get supper on the table, get youngest son to basketball practice (last one of the season, YEAH), and take some soaps to our church (while youngest son was at practice) for a care package to an amazing missionary in Lithuania (Hi Judy!)

Instead of these well laid out plans I chased a Vietnamese pot bellied pig through the corn fields, woods, and cricks of Chandler (I say “crick”, you say “creek”, others say “stream”, roll with me here or you’ll never get past the fact that I call drinking fountains “bubblers”). The supper fail was somewhat my fault… I asked my husband to pick up a few things for red and green enchiladas on his way home from work (tomatoes and tortillas) and he reminded me that we still had cavatini in the fridge (silly me, I thought he had tired of eating cavatini as it had been his lunch and dinner for the past two days). I guess you could say the pig had nothing to do with supper being a “fend for yourself” of leftovers and a 9 pm Subway and Taco Bell run for our boys but I will anyways… I blame you little pig for my boys eating fast food.

This is how it all went down and even this morning I can’t believe it. Youngest son and I pull in to basketball practice and just as I am getting out to usher son in to practice a friend pulls in with his son and said to me, “Get in, we’ve got to go catch a pig.” Ummmmm ok, yea, that’s not a weird “Hello, how ya doing?” I look at my little bag of soaps thinking, “I really need to run these to the church quick and get back in case youngest son breaks a collarbone playing basketball” (oldest son has done this). I throw caution to the wind (not out of character for me), grab my purse, and tell youngest son and his friend to “Head into practice and not break any bones until I get back.” Seriously, those were my words… not winning any mother of the year awards this year. I text my husband, Kevin, that I am off to catch a pig quick and his response is “Don’t eat it” (I’m allergic to mammal meat… weird, I know).

John and I head down to the muddy corn field where he saw the pig and he tells me someone dumped it when he was bringing his son to basketball. Opened the car door, and kicked the pig out… seriously! Really? People these days. He figured it wouldn’t be tough to catch the little pig because it was probably used to people. All I know about potbellied pigs is that they usually squeal bloody murder when they are handled against their will. Do they bite? Are they mean? Did this one have tusks? Would I have a really stupid obituary including “death at the hooves of a pig?” It didn’t matter, we were not getting very close to this pig as it was scared out of its mind, could run way faster than anyone would ever have imagined, and really had no interest in being anywhere near people… quite the opposite in fact. We chase this pig through the cornfield for about 30 minutes in freezing, windy weather (what is up with snow in March Indiana?) and even got three more helpers (John’s wife came with a banana… this pig did not like bananas. Two guys passing by also stopped to help). The pig eluded all five of us and we were seriously trying to get this pig! The pig (we had figured out at this point it was a lady pig and had no tusks to hurt us with… still wondering if pigs bite) ran off down through the cornfield/small lake and into the woods.

The two guys gave up, got back in their vehicles and took off.  I suggested we go get some Fritos… I think everyone (animals included) love Fritos and maybe the crinkly bag would get Miss Piggy’s attention. I also REALLY had to get those soaps to the church so John said he would get the Fritos while I ran to make the soap drop off. We would rendezvous back in the woods for some more pig catching.

I happily dropped off the soaps, interrupting our Bible study group, all the while trying not to blurt out that I had to run to go catch a pig. I was a total muddy mess (no one seemed to notice, love those folks!) but the adrenalin was starting to pump… I could do this, Miss Piggy would be caught and saved (this area had a huge coyote population and she wouldn’t last the night). I looked at the minivan clock, added an hour because I refuse to accept Daylight Savings Time fully and change all my clocks (telling myself it’s good math practice for the boys to add an hour… add 1… yup we are raising geniuses) and realized basketball practice would be done in about five minutes.

I go to the gym, see no sign of John and his wife, so I pick up youngest son and John’s son. Call John, yup he’s in the depths of the woods chasing the pig. The boys and I head down to the woods and John’s son is super stoked to practice his skills for the pig wrastlin’ competition for the 4-H fair this summer. The boy is in shorts, sweaty from basketball, and it’s 34 degrees outside… I tell them to wait in the van. My youngest son looks relieved.

Long story short, we chase this pig around the woods and cricks for well over an hour (added to the 45 minutes of cornfield chasing). At several points the pig comes up to the gravel road and I sprint after it to wear it out. I guess my training begins today (Kevin and I are doing a 550 mile bicycle ride in the fall to raise money and awareness for the Arthritis Foundation… I haven’t started training yet) and I have to tell you this was not on the agenda for tonight. I run full out behind the pig for about a quarter mile each time and when I think I’m going to vomit I overtake the pig and turn it on its heels to run back the way we came. Little piggy legs should wear out quickly right? Wrong! All in all we did the road run about a dozen times (you do the math, I don’t like to do anything beyond add 1). When she made it back to where John, his wife, and two hysterically laughing boys were she would dart down the bank and into the woods.

At this point it was well after 8 pm and the only light we had was from the moon (headlights from our vehicles actually made things worse because we couldn’t shine them down into the woods and they screwed up any night vision our eyes were trying to attain). However, the headlights did shine brightly on every road run that me and Miss Piggy engaged in. Apparently this is funny to 9 year old boys. Branches, logs, thorns, crick, and mud made this ooh so much fun. At one point John and I were both chasing Miss Piggy, him from behind and me in from the right when I heard a loud crash and hear John go to the ground. He got clotheslined by some good size tree limbs and as I ran I shouted, “You ok?” He assured me he was so I kept going. Got a hand on that little pig and dove down to cover her. She wiggled from under me and took off. Seriously? At this point I told her that I hope she did become a coyote’s dinner… coyotes deserve to eat too! However, out of the corner of my eye I see two boys and John’s wife on the edge of their seats trying to get a glimpse of whether or not we would emerge from the woods carrying Miss Piggy. I just couldn’t give up.

More road runs to try to wear the pig out and back down into the blackness of the woods more times than I can count, this pig could run! Finally, and I do mean FINALLY I was sprinting on the road behind Miss Piggy and I saw a huge pile of brush to the side of the road with the crick directly below (we were farther up than we had been all night). Before, when she would get to the water’s edge she’d stop for a split second every time so I knew she could smell/sense the water… this was my chance. I caught up to her, zagged to the left directly at her and she headed straight for that brush. She dove into it and realized the water was right there and she froze. Her legs were caught up in the brush and I dove on her, reaching around her with one of my best wrestling moves… yes I was a wrestler in high school. She squealed and squealed and I had to have the biggest smile of relief known to man on my face!

I yelled for John and his wife to bring up their minivan, I had caught her!! It seemed like forever until they finally came up, all the while playing a game of Marco Polo in the pitch black night. I was buried pretty deep in the brush with a pig under me so I’m glad no one decided to pull out a camera. I wrapped an arm around Miss Piggy and John grabbed my other hand to try to pull me out. I left behind a shoe but after Miss Piggy was in the van I was able to dig around and find it… wet, muddy, but full of memories, I really get like these shoes. John had a bloody head but seemed in good spirits.

Yup, so that’s what I did last night. Even funnier yet was the text conversation I found on my phone between my two sons (one in van, one at home).

 

I really love life but man am I sore this morning! No, I didn’t keep the pig… I asked Kevin, he said “No”… he is the practical one in the family. Hmmm maybe some comments here can change his mind? Just kidding, I don’t want to push my luck with animals on the farm… or do I … notice I am not deleting that sentence. LOL, I must be a little nutty!

Anyone out there have pot bellied pigs? How are they as pets?

 

All right, depending on what “stage” of motherhood you are in some of these will resonate more than others… As of today I have a 15 year old and a 9 year old so that gives you a clue of where I am coming from! Go ahead, judge me, it’s kinda fun… I write this as my sons are daring each other to shoot the other (bare chests) with nerf guns and nerf bows and arrows… so I guess I know I’m a mother when I don’t step in to stop them. Darn that Duck Dynasty and its introduction of “Red Belly Rules”

“Owwwwww why would you shoot me? I didn’t think you would really do it!” Moving on…

1. You have a secret candy stash that you don’t even tell your husband about.
2. You unconsciously rock back and forth in the presence of any baby or little animal.
3. You take it personally when strangers do not wave back at your baby/toddler.
4. Legos, plastic animals, and matchbox cars are your personal World War II mine field.
5. Olive Garden IS fine Italian dining.
6. You have to feign interest in things you really have no interest in (think GI Joe story plots, what fingers smell like, how often the dog farts, fun facts about Hitler etc.).
7. Your kisses can cure the near amputation (as a child would have you believe) of a limb.
8. You can’t wait for them to say “mama” and then when you become their personal slave you wish they would hurry up and learn to say “dada”
9. Goldfish crackers are their own food group
10. You take a million and one pictures for the kids’ scrapbook that will most likely never be completed (or in my case, started)
11. Yes, you have teeth, hair, and possibly a belly button cord “stump” in a treasure box somewhere… you are creepy… oh wait, you’re a mom…same thing.
12. You find yourself playing ” I dare you” with your child when it comes to eating vegetables. It may even go to double dare, and if it’s brussel sprouts you are talking double dog dare.
13. You’re first kid has an awesome detailed baby book. Your second, not so much. Your third child…you are sure you got one as a gift but can’t find it. Your fourth child… ummm they look a lot like the first child so they can share a book.
14. College savings plan? More like “future therapy” savings plan (yes I made my oldest son help me butcher chickens so we are upping the amount we add for a couple years)
15. Your husband says, “This is why we can’t have nice things” way too often.
16. You wish there was a drive thru everything.
17. You clean the house and the kids ask, “Who’s coming over?”
18. You cross your legs when you sneeze or cough.
19. You fake diarrhea to get a 10 minute immediate break in the solitude of the bathroom.
20. You seriously wonder what you did with your time before kids. Did you just sit around and look longily into your husband’s beautiful eyes? Yup, I’m sure that’s what we all did
21. You watch Sesame Street long after the kids have left the room and then justify it to yourself or anyone else by saying, “They have really cool singers, entertainers, actors, actresses on there and cookie monster is teaching me good eating habits now!”
22. You hear yourself say things like, “Don’t bite the dog”, “Take your foot out of your mouth” (literally), “Do not eat your toenails”, “No I will not smell your finger… well ok I will.”
23. That 10 minutes alone in the bathroom is like a mini vacation especially if you are able to sneak in a cool beverage (or coffee), your phone (or iPad), or a book!
24. Someone is conversing with you while you are sleeping.
25. You mix your kids’ names up (sometimes even interchanging them with the pets’ names) especially when you are angry or frustrated
26. Your young kids drop their pants in public, comparing parts, and you simply say, “Where is your mother” with a serious face.
27. You seriously cannot stand the “man hugs” that they give their father in which arms go out, they move towards each other, but there is no contact, UGH! That is not a hug!!
28. You literally cannot stand the phrase “Oh I forgot” or if you have teenagers, “I don’t know”!
29. You swear up and down you will never make 3 different dinners for picky eaters, but you do.
30. You can’t help but smell the tops of all babies’ heads.
31. Cutting a tiny person’s fingernails terrify you.
32. Therefore you chew off tiny person’s fingernails.
33. You have chewed up food to feed to your baby (think meat)… don’t try to say you haven’t!
34. You beg your oldest child to get his/her license ASAP so he/she can run errands for you.
35. You think you can cut hair (I thought I could, I can’t).
36. You have whole conversations through the bathroom door because you refuse to leave your little fortress of solitude.
37. Your husband takes the kid to the park so you can relax and you instead spend the time “cleaning up”
38. Everyone tells you to sleep when the baby sleeps and instead you sit, obsessively watching the baby sleep.
39. Your heart feels like its going to explode the moment you hold that child in your arms.
40. Your heart feels like its going to explode again the day that child leaves the nest.

 

What are your “You know you are a mom when…” moments? Let me hear them!!

I’ve known three things my whole life…

1. I wanted to be a wife.
2. I wanted to be a mother.
3. I wanted to be surrounded by nature (especially animals).

Amazingly enough, I now have these things and so much more. Pinch me, I’m dreaming. Don’t really pinch me, I seriously have a crazy irrational fear about being pinched.

How did I get to where I am today? Simply put, by the will of God. I’m no stranger to hard work and sacrifice but am truly blessed by God to the deep depths of my being.

To know me is to know a Christian wife, homeschooling mom, Air Force veteran, stroke survivor, hobby farmer, animal enthusiast, dog trainer, wood chopper, homesteader, and lover of all things culinary.

Impulsive to the core and easily distracted, I’m always up for a challenge… Hmmmm sounds like I’m applying for the A-Team. Buckle up, helmets and flak vests on and join me on this roller coaster adventure we call life. Freely share your own adventures, tips, tricks, ideas, and questions, I love hearing what others are thinking (probably because so many times it makes me feel way more normal!)