Sigh. It’s going to be 95 again this week. On the plus side, we did get ¾” of rain this weekend. Soybeans might just be okay.
Mabel and I say a prayer and then sing a song every night before bed. The last line of her prayer is always, “Thank you for dying on the cross, Jesus.” Then usually we sing Jesus Loves Me because she likes to make big muscles with me during “He is strong!” But more recently, we’ve been singing This Little Light of Mine. Oh my, she loves that song. She calls it “This Is The Light of Mine” and her favorite verse is about not letting the devil blow out her light.
Did I already spill about my thrifty finds this week? I can’t remember, so would you allow me to explain? Going thrifting is my therapy. Usually Moo and I go on a Saturday morning and that’s just what happened this weekend. We spotted a pair of very nice jeans for her, 3 for Hayley, 3 for Andy, and 1 for Trevor. I think they all might have added up to $40 total. SCORE. And then out of nowhere, I came upon an entire rack of vintage clothing. Fifteen feet of heart palpitations. Mabel picked out a rainbow sweater and calico pullover for herself ($3 and $1 respectively) and I found a green housedress that I almost couldn’t see through tears. I touched the cotton and I swear I could hear my granny Bertha making biscuits in her little yellow kitchen. It’s my favorite $4 find so far. I can’t wait to wear it to work with a belt and jeans.
I've been keeping an eye on the Moo. She lost weight over the summer AND grew taller. Therefore, her bootylicious booty is no longer, um... licious. Her milkshake doesn't bring anything to the yard. And so, I'm shoveling lots of yumminess into her. So far, so good. She also came home with some sort of attitude along the lines of 'I don't have to finish the food on my plate if I don't want to' and 'If I don't feel like eating it, I can call it yucky and make a nasty face.' But, then she remembered that doesn't fly with Mama and she's back to eating with a smile. Alrighty then. Let's put on some weight, Moo!
I strongly dislike biting into a granny smith apple, all excited for that juicy tang, only to experience a mushy spot that was unidentifiable to the naked eye. Totally identifiable to a naked mouth, though. Blech. That will honk with your breakfast right there.
The Junior Football season is upon us. Trevor plays several positions now and starts for the team. His first game was Monday. He had 4 full and at least 3 half (group assist) tackles. Two of those tackles brought a turnover and had his coach hopping on the sidelines, cheering. The coach is harder this year, football is harder. Running laps if they forget gear, whine, or mouth off. Praise when they rock it. Prepping them for next year and after, when there are tryouts for the team instead of signups. The boy and his stepdad are totally into it. Monday’s game was a win: 6-0. Trevor had such a great attitude and played so well (more than 3 quarters!) that Bryon must have hugged, juked, poked, and teared up about a dozen times. He missed his boys. [What Trevor is to football, Andy is to guitar, which means Bryon is pretty much in heaven ALL the time.]
Does anyone else feel like their closet is sad? I took a picture this past spring, bored one day. My closet was basically nude, grey, white, and black. Now, I love streamlined classic colors like these and that isn’t likely to change, but holy potatoes it looked so BORING and mopey. I am not boring. How did I let my closet become so boring? And do I look boring galloping through my life? Where are my freaking neckties?! Where is the color and the dots and the stripes? Ugh. So I began stalking Pinterest for ideas on basics that I could incorporate, as well as cheap or vintage trendy pieces to add to my wardrobe. Much was donated to our local thrift. I saved up, husband splurged on an Anthropologie trip, and little by little, it’s looking cheerier. Life is too short for mopey attire, that’s what I say. I mean, just ask Mabel Rae. She wears stars on her pants.
Andrew hit double digits this weekend. He also consumed a cervelat sandwich with alfalfa sprouts on purpose. More birthday details in a later post.
Every day this week Mabel has played horses in the living room. She leaves them behind to go do other things and then returns to pick up where she left off. Those horses must be exhausted.