A Roof Over Our Heads

Our air conditioner has been acting up lately. DH looked at it and decided it was the pump. So he ran to the barn and came back with this:

This is a gun we use to pour Cydectin (a wormer) on cattle, and yes, that is a really, really old, ugly floor from the 50's.

4 or 5 times a day, I use that gun to empty the water out of the pump.

Next trip to town, we'll pick up a new pump, but for now, I pump:

With the temps hovering at the 100° mark, and my oven working overtime to feed a cowboy crew, we're sure wanting to keep that air conditioner humming.

However, trips to town have been put on hold for just  bit. DH has been helping the neighbors brand for a few days in between our own cow works and my peace and quiet has been temporarily interrupted by a roofing crew:

This is not a fun time of year to be roofing in NM. It was 102°. I'm thinking that if I were a roofer in NM, I would be on that roof at 5 am and not show up at 11, but what do I know?

I imagine the average customer would not appreciate 6 roofers beating on their roof at 5 am, but heck, we're up and heading out at that hour.

I took a video while these guys were hammering away, but I can not figure out how to post it. I was trimming some HSTs and all you can really hear is the hammering and thuds, but they were singing at the tops of their lungs. A roofers' serenade!

They worked 3 days last week. They do not work on Saturday and on Friday evening we had a heck of a wind storm that made the dirt and shingles... and plywood... and felting... and everything else that was not nailed down, fly. It's a mess and I'm sure they will not be happy come Monday.

Praise God we are getting a new roof.

Wishing it was going to be a tin one, but in a drought ravaged ranch country, I'll take what I can get, and be darn thankful for it. Maybe I've got some of Grandma Lillian in me after all.

Invisible Moms

This was shared on a  board I frequent and I wanted to share it with y'all. I was cleaning out my drafts and found that I had never posted this. May it bless you as it did me:

The Invisible Mother

It all began to make sense: the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, “Can't you see I'm on the phone?” Obviously not; no one can see that I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I'm invisible: the invisible Mom.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, “What time is it?”

I'm a satellite guide to answer, “What number is the Disney Channel?”

I'm a car to order, “Pick me up right around 5:30, please.”

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude—but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. My friend had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when my friend turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, “I brought you this.”

It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:

“With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.”

In the days ahead I would read—no, devour—the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

No one can say who built the great cathedrals—we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a work man carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, “Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.” And the workman replied, “Because God sees.”

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, “I see you.

I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.”

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my children to tell the friends they bring home from college for the holidays, “My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning to bake homemade pies, and then she creates a turkey feast that takes hours.” That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want my children to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to their friends, to add, “You're gonna love it at my house.”

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals, but we cannot be seen. And, one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Job, MOM! If you want, share this with all the Invisible Moms you know

This and That and I Don't Like Change

This afternoon we're being blessed with yet another incredible summer rain shower! What a summer we've had! The pastures are green and filled with thick, tall grass. The cattle are belly deep in grass and that's an unusual site around here in the desert and we're thankful for every green blade.


Alas, all this rain means that I'm spending an inordinate amount of time behind the mower. I'm thinking about putting in a request for a riding mower next year. We've got a pretty big yard and then when you add in everything around the headquarters, you're looking at about 5 acres. With everyone else covered up in ranch work, this chore falls to me so I generally trudge out about 6 in an attempt to beat the heat and put in a couple of hours as the resident yard slave before turning into the kitchen fairy and heading in to whip up something for dinner. Between baking bread, or making pickles, and heaven forbid I don't pop something in for dessert, the mornings just evaporate.


However, I still fall into the very spoiled category because come the afternoon, I do have the opportunity for a short nap, or to flip a few pages in the latest book I'm reading, or to clean the bathroom,
... or to play with fabric.

Quilting has been a slow process lately because I'm hand sewing 31 hexagon flowers onto my latest project. I did finish piecing the top for the hexagon quilt-a-long, but I'm in need of some material for the backing. Guess I have no choice but to make a trip to my favorite quilt shop. I'll tell you - the things we HAVE to do sometimes! I might need someone to twist my arm. However, I have to say that spending all that extra time ripping apart those hexagons was worth it! I actually really like the finished top! Just boggles my mind how the exact same fabric can come alive by simply placing it in a different position.

I am also finishing the top to my 30's quilt so I'm hoping to have 2 completed projects to share soon!

Then its on to something new! I'm still deciding. I'm thinking I'm ready for something quick and easy.

On the home front - Camp wrangler kid came home on Saturday. Gosh I missed that kid and she's already gone again! She was here long enough for me to get her into the dentist for a cleaning and then she left again this morning. Headed back to the camp for a 2 day retreat and then she's meeting up with her Daddy for a weekend of scouting and packing back into the mountains with horses. DH drew an elk tag this year and he's trying to become acclimated with the area.

DS is pulling out this weekend and heading back to college. Loved having him home for the summer, but it sure is different once they go away to college. Seems like everyone's coming and going and I'm just trying to keep track of where everyone is.

I've actually been kind of sad this summer. Too many transitions all at once and I'm not very good at embracing change. The changes are exciting for the kids so that makes it easier, but gosh it sure keeps a Mama on her knees.

The next day or two I'll be fixing up some goodies for DS to take back to college. He's getting a batch of spicy pickles that I make, his favorite cookies, some homemade rolls, and part of a pound cake that he loves. Then once he pulls out, I think that'll be the perfect time to drown my sorrows amidst the bolts of quilting fabric at the quilt shop.

Wonder if they'll welcome a teary-eyed Mama.

I'm Done Cooking For the Crew...So Why Am I Still in the Kitchen?!

That's a good question! Sigh... It may have something to so with the fact that I live 30 miles from town. I have a husband. And 2 teenagers. And a father-in-law. They are all in this house and they are always hungry. And yeah, I like to eat too. I even like to cook although you would never know it from all the whining I seem to do about it on here! It just seems like I am ALWAYS in the kitchen!

Today was the first day this week that I fixed a good hot breakfast for Gary and his Dad. They have been dining on cereal. It was guilt that made me trudge into the kitchen this morning and start some bacon. They didn't make me feel guilty. I'm good at doing that all by myself.

The works went well last week and this week we have a bit of a break before they crew arrives for another week. They will be back on Monday night. My stove is presently cooking up 10# of chicken and 4# of ground beef in an attempt to prepare for next week. Some of that ground beef will end up in the Enchilada Casserole I'm making for Cowboy Church tomorrow. There is also a 4-H meeting tomorrow evening so we'll head in to take that in as well.


We're going in to town after dinner for guitar, Tyler's college class, some antihistimine for our herd of horses that are standing in the pens with goopy eyes and runny noses (some of the crew brought sick horses last week), and a cinch. I've also got to run around and try to find a couple of thermometers for science experiments. We need the old Mercury bulb thermometers that seem to be a thing of the past.


Sigh...for someone who really does not like going into town, I sure seem to be there a lot!

This has been a good week though. I have had time to resume my 3-mile walks in the morning and although it is really hard for me to drag out of bed before dawn, I feel much better once my feet hit that dirt road. It's ME time. I enjoy experiencing the dawning of a new day. I have time to think and visit with the Lord. I sometimes listen to music or books on tape. I come back feeling refreshed albeit, in need of a shower.

We are playing catch-up in school this week. Seems as if we are always doing that. One of these days I hope I can quit fretting about how far behind we are. We're probably not behind at all. I'm working on that.







I did get to go out and enjoy taking pictures one evening. Caitlin has rediscovered her passion for riding. Don't think she ever really lost it, just think she was always riding for work and didn't have the opportunity to just ride for fun. It's been a while since she had a horse that I would let her do that on too. Thank the Lord for Wyatt. He's a sweeheart and the two of them make a good team. The light was so pretty that evening and I loved getting behind the lens again.

Who Wants to Be Normal?

Okay, today I am writing about something my daughter addressed in her blog. She wrote a really cool piece about being normal (whatever that is!). Poor kid. She didn't have a chance at normality. She was born her mother's daughter and bless her little heart, I have been accused of a lot of things, but being normal isn't one of them. I won't rehash her wonderful words, after all, this kid has a fantastic gift for writing! However, I will mention that we have always encouraged the kids to be themselves. In this day and age, I am so very thankful for a teenage daughter who is great at being herself and actually likes who she is! This kid is so wise! Wish I had that kind of confidence at her age!

As a child, I never was one to go with the flow. I was the proverbial "fish out of water"~ the kid who "marched to the beat of their own drummer". I never did fall into a catagory. Looking back, I had lots of friends from all the different class cliques. I wore Wranglers, western shirts and boots every day so it would stand to reason that I had friends who were in FFA. I was the kid who was friends (yes, just friends) with the guys. The girls were awful! They were cruel and mean-spirited. My Senior year I was the FFA sweetheart and they didn't like it one bit. They erased me from all the FFA pages in the yearbook. Looking back, I see that they were just immature, but it sure did hurt me then. I hope that they have grown up ~ some people never do.

I had friends who were "jocks" and who were part of the "popular" kids too, although I was never part of any group. I was simply "me", no matter who I happened to be talking to. At the time, everyone seemed to be so confident. Looking back, I see that they were actually lacking confidence.

So what is normal? Normal is frightening. Look at today's society ~ it's a scary place. People are all running around trying to be a part of something ~ they want to dress alike, to act alike, to be accepted. God made every one of us different and we all go scurrying around in pursuit of more. Isn't what he made us enough? The only thing I want to scurry around in pursuit of is Him!

Don't know if things have changed since then I was in High School. I hope that they have, but I'm quite certain that they haven't. We homeschool, but the kids attended school for their first few year. I contemplated homeschooling from the get go, but it seemed awfully scary. It took me a while to realize that it was more scary to leave the kids in school!

Two teachers took me aside one afternoon and told me they needed to visit with me about my daughter. She was in kindergaten at the time. I was truly perplexed. What could this sweet, cooperative child have done? Well it seems that she walked in between two 3rd graders who were having an argument on the playground. She stood there and shook her fingers at them saying, "Now, that's no way to treat a friend." "My, Mommy says that you shouldn't talk to friends that way." "My Mommy says that you should be kind." "My Mommy...." LOL! I can just picture her! Even at 5 years of age, she had this incredible sense of self and justice. You go girl!

Marching to the beat of your own drummer is VERY cool!

I Can Be Found in the Kitchen

It’s only Sunday and I’m already tired! Our fall cow works don’t even officially begin until tomorrow, but I am ready to drop. Not good. I am really looking forward to this week, but oh my goodness, I need some more energy!

I started my morning with my 3 mile walk. I washed all the bedding here and in the bunkhouse, every bath towel and every kitchen towel and rag. I cooked 15 pounds of roast, shredded it and added barbeque sauce for barbeque sandwiches. I washed dishes. I cooked another 4 pounds of ground beef (already have 8 pounds cooked and in the freezer) and prepared the potatoes for the Buckaroo Bundles. I washed dishes. I made the Ice Cream Sandwich Dessert and added it to the freezer. I cut up the cantaloupe. I made guacamole to add to the BLTs for tonight. I washed dishes. See a pattern forming here?! I add bleach to my dishwater (no dishwasher here) to insure no one gets sick and by the end of the week, my hands will be completely dried out and shriveled up. However, they will also be completely germ free!

Yesterday, Tyler and I headed into town before 7 in order to tackle the ginormous list I had amassed. I dislike going into town immensely and being in town on a weekend is even worse. I guess that Roswell is not all that large in comparison to many cities, but there are just too many people there for me and the weekends are horrendous.

First stop was Paul’s Vet Supply to return 2 extra bottles of blackleg that were not on our invoice. Paul is a great guy and he thanked us profusely for our honesty in returning them. As I crossed our stop off of my list he exclaimed, “THAT’S your list!?” He then remarked that we were out bright and early, to which I replied, “Well, actually, we’re kind of running late.” He thought that was a funny comment to make at 7:00 on a Saturday morning. I’m so glad that I amuse people.

Next stop. Sam’s. It was completely empty ~ yippee! Tyler and I navigated through the aisles like we were on a mission, which of course we were. 1hour 45 minutes later and $306.25 poorer, we had crossed everything off and made our way to Walmart. I hate Walmart. Alas, it allows me to make one stop and pretty much find whatever I need from potting soil to apples to Tylenol (which I will most certainly need after spending a couple of hours in that store). Once again, Tyler and I made a great team. We headed to the checkout with 2 precariously full baskets and shelled out $389.92. Ouch.

My kids have been well trained in this area. When we lived in West Texas, we were 3 hours from Midland / Odessa which was where we drove to shop. Needless to say, we did not make the trip but once every 6 weeks or so. I would put it off as long as possible so then, of course, we had a ridiculously long list. We would tend to all the other errands and then tackle the grocery store. Three people ~ two of them small children. Three baskets. Tyler was pretty good at maneuvering his, but I would push mine with one hand and pull the one Caitlin was pushing with the other. She could barely see over the handle of the cart ~ poor kid. They were both so good, but I hated dragging them through that. When they become adults, they will probably have to find some sort of 12-step program to help them get over the grocery shopping nightmare they were always dragged into by me. Those sweet kids never complained or asked for anything. I never once remember them asking for candy or a toy or even something to drink. I would usually get them something to eat on the way out of town and they would be so excited. Not 5 minutes after we started for home, they would be sacked out in the back seat. Their heads would be resting upon the 25# sack of flour and the giant bottle of syrup or barbeque sauce would more than likely be poking them in the ribs. They slept like angels all the way home. Then Gary would come out and help me unload everything and we would carry those babies into their beds. I miss Texas, but I do not miss those 3 hour drives to shop and the return 3 hours that almost never brought us home before 11:30.

Oops ~ didn’t mean to go off on a tangent like that. We now return you back to present day events:

Breakfast at 5:00. That means I need to be dressed and in the kitchen at 4:00. Here’s tomorrow’s menu:

Breakfast: Coffee ~ Tea ~ Milk ~ Pancakes ~ Syrup ~Peanut Butter ~ Cantaloupe ~ Scrambled
Eggs ~ Bacon ~ Honey Bun Cake
Dinner: Tea ~ Steak Tampiquena ~ Mashed Potatoes ~ State Fair Rolls ~ Corn ~ Salad ~
Green Chili Bake
Dessert: Ice Cream Sandwich Dessert
Supper: Taco Soup ~ Cheese ~ Sour Cream ~ Cornbread


If anyone happens to be looking for me in the next 7 days...

I can be found in the kitchen.

A Bunkhouse, a Daughter, and a Toilet

Okay ~ I'm not so sure this blogging thing is for me. Some people just come naturally by it, some don't. I would qualify as an honorary member of the "don't" catagory. My daughter blogs, and blogs were created for people like her. This kid is a hoot. Today she compared herself to Cinderella. She's 14 and has no interest in the prince aspect of the story at this time (she is still focused on horses ~ her Daddy says she needs to keep that focus until she's 30), but she feels like a maid. Chores, chores, chores! Is there no end to the drudgery of chores? Poor kid. Not.

Yes, this morning was filled with chores. The dreaded project? The bunkhouse. However, it really only needs a good cleaning about twice a year. We live on a ranch and the bunkhouse is like a hotel on a ranch ~ without room service. Most often it is used when we plan our spring branding and fall shipping works. The cowboy crew that we hire to help work the cattle take up residence in the bunk house then. This weekend it will be filled with antelope hunters. Ten hunters. Six beds. Guess they'll have to flip for a bed.

After 6 days of labor, the new floors were finally installed yesterday. They were cutting it close, but the nasty, disgusting carpet (I'll never know what possessed someone to put carpet in a kitchen and dining room in a bunkhouse!) and 3 layers of old vinyl and linoleum were finally banished and are now taking up residence in the dump. Guess it just wasn't what the poor kid who came out to do the job, was expecting. He mentioned the fact that he would probably quit after he finished. I stayed out of their hair. Just took them Gatorade and cookies. Maybe he didn't like peanut butter chocolate chip cookies.

It was actually a joy to clean today (my darling Cinderella begs to differ), but this time when we cleaned, it was actually clean. The poor mistreated child had to make up the 6 beds (which her wonderful mother stripped) with the fresh linen (which her dear sweet mother washed). Then she had to run the horrible vaccuum over that brand new carpet and sweep the sparkling new floors. All the while her mother spent 2 hours paying homage to the tub and toilet while she scrubbed away 50 years of rusty buildup with her new best friend, CLR (a Calcium/Lime/Rust remover). I'm telling you, this child is so mistreated.

Let me go back in time for a moment. Not so long ago, I seem to recall another scenario. Same daughter ~ then 6. Same mother ~ let's just say she was younger then. Different bathroom, but a toilet was present and the mother was once again kneeling in front of it (sigh). The dear daughter was humming and wiping down the counters when the mother was quite suddenly attacked from behind. Her daughter had flung herself exuberantly onto the back of her mother and wrapped her little arms tightly around her exclaiming, "Oh, Mommy! This is the MOST fun I've EVER had!" Honest. True story. Poor kid.

Yes dear, you actually ENJOYED cleaning at one time. Alas, I was unable to capture that moment and bottle it for future use.

Just think, whenever that prince does arrive (sometime after that magical age of 30) she will have all the skills necessary to make a house a home. What a horrible thing to do to a child!