My Future Might Involve Living in the Woods without Electricity.........

It never fails.
Every year when the rush of the holiday season ends, I end up in a funk.
Funk=winter depression
This winter depression involves lack of energy and motivation, alot of munching on leftover treats and the need to sleep alot and live in my fat pants.

But then once in awhile {which isn't very often this winter}, we get a beautiful winter day and I thank God I am alive to live in it.
Because its pretty and fresh.
And Ike and Duke are big and beautiful....
...and eager to pull children around on their sleighs.




Sometimes I have to remind myself that not everyone can bring out the horses and sleigh and spend an hour or two doing something many would pay big bucks for.

Sometimes I have to remind my children how lucky they are when they complain about cleaning the barn.

But I never have to remind my hubby.


This is the life he was made for.

Actually, I am pretty sure if he could live the life that Charles Ingalls lived, he would do it in a second.

....and Jersey the dog would be right there beside him.

Men are weird

That time there were 4 very full baskets of laundry sitting around the house.

And your husband decides to wash one pair of pants and one shirt for work tomorrow.

 

Hmph.

 

Fifty Shades of Husband and Jersey the Dog. Totally doesnt make any sense, but made me giggle.

 My husband pretends to not be an animal lover, but he is not a very good pretender.
He is not a cat person and tells me everyday as they sleep on our porch, climb our trees and poop in our flower gardens.
He would be totally OK if they disappeared, but I didn't tell you that.

Speaking of the MC {many cats}.
They have decided that it is very enjoyable to jump in the vehicle anytime we open the door{s}.
The other day I drove down the street only to discover two felines sitting in the seat behind me ready to go for a journey.
I thought about driving to the local pet store, dropping them off and taking off like some sort of bad-ass criminal....but I didn't.
Because I love cats.
Ahem.

Anyways, back to the husband.
If I gave him an ultimatum to choose between Jersey the dog and me, I am sure he would choose the dog.
I took Princess to dance class the other evening and came home to a beeping answering machine.
This is what was on it.


*FYI...when referring to "the Colonel", he means Kentucky Fried Chicken.*I promise.  No more dog posts for awhile.

My Husband Should be a Picker

Have you ever watched the show American Pickers?
I am convinced that my husband should be a "Picker" because he just has a talent at finding treasures that every other human being overlooks.
The problem is that he would keep it all rather than sell it.
I will tell you a secret.  My big, burly husband is the biggest sentimental, mushy, old-fashioned dork in the world, so I just know that we would have to build a museum to store everything.
He would dust everything.
Keep everything shiny.
Have a gazillion stories to tell about each piece, when the rest of us would just think the stuff looks "neat".

So, when hubby recently cleaned out my Grandpa's {may he be resting in peace with my Daddy} old, rickety driving shed, the finds were almost more than his mushy heart could take.


For me it was the perfect photo opportunity and provided a few moments to get teary-eyed over the family members who used to use the treasures we found.

Apparently I am a sentimental mush pot too.

My Great Grandfather was a Harness Maker. The harness we found all ripped, rusty and almost ruined was almost enough to bring my horse-obsessed husband to do the ugly cry.

But he held it in and gently moved everything away from the elements.
Even though they have been laying around for 40+ years.
*sniff*

The heart on this bridle might have made me so excited, I asked hubby to pose with it.
Just because.

I never met my Great Grandfather but know I would have loved him madly.
But if my hubby had ever met him, I am pretty sure that my Great Grandfather would love him more than me because of the "horse stuff".
Whatever.

I am so mad at myself for not being more interested in our family history when I was younger. When my Grandfather ran a huge dairy farm, I was more interested in swinging on a tire swing than the actual cows and farming process.

Now he is gone. The cows are gone. And all that is left are the places he walked. Full of stuff he used.

Full of stuff left behind.

Thank goodness my hubby found it all.

Homestead Revival

Maple Syrup Facts. You're Welcome.

Canada produces 85% of the world's maple syrup.

Warm, sunny days and cold, frosty nights are ideal for producing sap flow.

It takes 30-50 gallons of sap to produce 1 gallon of maple syrup. I am too lazy to convert gallons to litres for us Canadian peeps, but just know that it takes a whole bunch of sap to get just a little bit of syrup.

Maple syrup is a healthier {natural} alternative to sugar.

The sugar content of sap is approximately 2.5%

The sugar content of maple syrup is approximately 66%

No wonder I can drink the stuff.

Just kidding.
Kinda.

See more awesome stuff here

Stuck in the Mud. Literally.

You know you are a blogger when you see your child stuck in the mud and think,
"This is a perfect picture opportunity".

"This is perfect blog material.  I could write about the time she got herself stuck in the mud and then screamed and yelled so loud, everyone in the community thought she was being tortured"

But, instead, you try to help her out {unsuccessfully} before she is in it face first.
You know your husband is a loyal blog fan when he refuses to get child out of the mud until you get your camera and take some pictures so you can write about it on your blog.

The End