Friday, May 4, 2018

I Ain't Got Time For That Mess


Oh, how my little dinosaurs are growing up and when I read an article the other day about how chickens are descendants of the dinosaurs who survived the meteorite, which only makes sense, I felt even prouder of my feathered babies than ever. They are really and truly survivors.
When the boys came over this afternoon, we went out to the coop to see them and we now definitely have a new Nicey. One of the Rhode Island Reds who is curious and relatively tame. She sat on Owen's shoulder and no, I did not have my phone to take a picture and I am so mad. He claims that this is the niceyest Nicey of all.

I did six miles this morning and that damn hill which is both gradual AND steep did not feel quite as bad. Is it possible that I might actually get stronger? My total for the week- almost twenty-three miles. I am a bit amazed that I am doing this. I really am. I suppose I knew I was capable of walking for more than three or so miles but having never really tried it, I was not sure.
Now- let's see if I can keep it up.
And if any of you are wondering if I've lost any weight- let me share this with you.


So no. I'm still plump as a partridge. 

Well, perhaps a stronger partridge. 

I need to cut this short as I am going to make venison tacos for these boys. 


The really junky kind with El Paso taco seasoning and Ortega crispy taco shells. I can't wait!

The object which is Owen is holding is a carrot ballet dancer. His name is Carrotovia. 


He's a Russian Carrot Ballet Dancer. Owen can make him spin and do pirouettes. His tutu is made of kale leaves.

Isn't he cool?

I told two Jehovah's Witnesses today that I was an atheist. When the sweet little white-haired ladies wearing calico dresses with their holy books and pamphlets clutched to their bosoms asked me sweetly why, I said, "Many reasons and it's none of your business."
"Thank you for your time," they said and they got in their car and drove away. 

Sometimes I wish I had a bulldog in the yard. 

Happy Friday, y'all. 

Love...Ms. Moon



27 comments:

  1. Good for you! Which covers successful chicken keeping, small-boy-cooking, putting one foot in front of the other, and giving self-righteous know-it-alls what for.

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    1. I feel so sorry for the JW's. I don't think they'd ever go knock on doors if it wasn't required for their religion.

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  2. Oh my god jesus when did Owen get so handsome?




    *faints*



    ps. El Paso taco seasoning and Ortega crispy taco shells are the BEST. xoxox

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    1. We are all thinking that Owen is starting to look like Jessie. Genetics are weird and odd and wonderful.
      And you know what? Those tacos were so awesome I can't even believe it.

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  3. those taco's will be THE best ever with those ingredients and 2 hungry boys to snarf them up! Joy! And goodness, your white haired pamphlet toting ladies made a quick exit? Good for you! Sometimes they are not so acquiescent? (sp) Have a martini tonight....and purple cows for the boys , of course ;-)
    susan m

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  4. Those ladies didn't even ask if they could leave one of their pamphlets! A first! I bet they're praying for me though.
    Whatever.
    Martini was consumed. Purple cows about to happen.

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  5. I just shared that EXACT SAME MEME on FB! :) Great minds think alike, huh?

    Those boys are growing up so fast.

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    1. It's a darling meme. And so true.
      And yes- I can't believe how fast they're growing.

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  6. In the first picture I was wondering what Owen was holding. Thanks for the explanation! 🥕
    I once told some Jehovah’s Witnsses to never come back again. The didn’t knock on my door again for 5 years. 😁

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  7. Plump as a partridge. I like that. I admire your dedication to walking. It's what I need to do but always put it off. Winter is over, there's no snow, no ice, no more excuses. Just need to get up off my ass and walk more.

    I would love to have seen those ladies' faces. There are a couple of young men wandering around our neighborhood, I've seen them on the paths, but they haven't knocked on my door thank goodness. I tend to be rude sometimes when people irritate me. Religion tends to irritate me, especially those who like to proselytise.

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    1. The hardest part about any sort of exercise is just starting.
      Are the young men wearing white shirts and black pants? If so, they're probably Mormons but you probably know that.
      The proselytizers piss me off. What right do they have to come to MY house and to try and convince me that their imaginary friend is a god I need to know about? And then...to have the BALLS to ask me why I don't believe in him? Nah.

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  8. i invited a lady and her son in once and our dog freaked them out. they came back one time after that but my husband told them to kick rocks....then there was the time the one armed witness came a knocking when we visited friends in gary...she was all like you too can be one of god's chosen people and i was all like i'm jewish babe, already in...

    xxalainaxx


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    1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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    2. Haha! Yeah, read your Bible, lady.

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  9. I applaud you for taking up walking - for the exercise and to observe the world around you. Back in 2002 when we stayed in the Best Western on the edge of Apalachicola we walked to a restaurant in the centre of town. The waitress was flabbergasted when she discovered that we had walked there - as if walking was an alien activity. I think it is for most Americans.

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    1. Oh, Mr. YP- I took up running in 1979 and have been either walking or running since then. Mostly walking. Fairly regularly too. It's just lately that I've been going longer distances. And yes, I can easily see that happening in Apalach. When I first moved to the little village of Lloyd and I began walking here, people would stop frequently and ask if I needed a ride somewhere.

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  10. Hilarity ensues...I am so impressed with your 6 mile walk!! Holy Moly Lady. I did about 3 something yesterday and felt like I'd just come in 50th in the NY marathon. On my knees. You rock! you partridge you! Carrotovia is divine. Those boys are beautiful. XXOO

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  11. I did two miles this morning. You inspired me:)

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  12. Mary! Twenty three miles. Who knew you just needed to find new and picturesque roads to explore. I’m so impressed! And yes, Owen is growing into his tween face and such a handsome face it is. He always did look very cool with long hair. Gibson is a cutie too. All your grands are glorious.

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    1. Yes, the new roads have absolutely changed my life. And I'm glad.
      Lily and I were talking today about how quickly Owen is turning into less of a child and more of smaller version of a grownup. You should see that boy play baseball! And Gibson. Oh my. There is no one like that child.

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  13. I don't think a bulldog could have delivered the message any more clearly. Good for you!

    And BRAVO for the walking! That's awesome! I walk a lot but I don't walk THAT much. Still, it's definitely good for you and whether you're losing weight or not I'm sure it has benefits. (Plus you're getting out and seeing the world which is MY favorite part of walking.)

    Owen has grown up so much. I still can't get over it. I'm glad there's a new Nicey in his life. (And yours.)

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  14. I love your vignettes!! Forget the bulldog idea. Mine, I had two, thought all visitors were coming to see them, and joyfully welcomes them.

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  15. I have some JWs that come around maybe every other year, they always catch me unawares and I answer the door in my painty nighty (turned magically into a dayty) with a two day old bun on top of my hair looking the picture of a woman in desperate need of saving. I then proceed in my most civilized voice to tell them I am quite satisfied wih my spiritual life and no they cannot hear about it.... One year they bothered me way too many minutes while I was up on a ladder painting a mural on my garage door, probably in the same painty nighty! Other people have tee shirts and old jeans for painting in, I have that nighty.

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  16. Oh my god. Owen has transformed! They are such beautiful children, always! Well that meme just says it all. I'd insert more of an Italian accent for the plump partridge part. And those "fake" tacos are the first thing I craved when I was pregnant with Henry. It sort of makes my mouth water even thinking about how good they are --

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