House on Hillsboro

It. Snowed.

We are all most fortunate that in the days since I have found myself too busy to blog about it because my enthusiasm would have bordered on ridiculous and most likely have been unbearable for a few of my friends above the Mason-Dixon line.

Thursday night's weather report suggested a chance of light snow on Friday with possible accumulation of an inch which Ava HEARD causing her to lay awake in bed for hours, then dream of playing in snow the likes of which she had never seen or touched.  But the Friday morning report squashed our Snow Day dreams with an announcement that no schools were closed and while light flurries were probable, accumulation was not, being that the temperature (that was in the 70's the day before) would remain in the mid thirties.  Poo.

So I took Ava to school.  And I drove home.  And the snow began to fall.  Then the snow began to pile.  I grabbed Jack and ran outside and for the first time in his sweet little life the idea of snow began to make sense.  But I felt awful - positively sick at the thought of Ava watching her first snowfall through the windows of a classroom and me missing the look on her face.  WHAT IF THE SNOW STOPPED?  THEN MELTED!  ALL WHILE SHE SAT DUTIFULLY IN HER SEAT AT SCHOOL, MISERABLE.  WHILE JACK AND I WERE AT HOME MAKING SNOWBALLS - THE VERY THING SHE HAS WISHED FOR WITH EVERY PENNY SHE HAS EVER PLUNKED INTO THE FOUNTAIN AT THE RIVERWALK MALL!!?

So off we went to check her out and I couldn't get there fast enough.  But my fear that it all would melt before I could get Ava's little hands in it lessened with the fall of every snowflake.  It was snowing more heavily now and the radio announced school closings. 

Ava had never been more happy to see me.  We were all SO EXCITED and could barely wait to get home and by the time we did the "flurries" had turned into...A LOT OF SNOW FALLING and an "inch" was every bit of 3 or 4 and counting.

But there was one little problem.  JD was due to fly in that very evening and I began to realize there would be no way.  Sure enough, as I was digging through drawers trying to find gloves and thermals, the phone rang - JD in Dallas, flight canceled, he would not be home at 6:35pm to marvel with us at the snow.  Shuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute.

But we did it.  We bundled up, went outside, and did everything we have ever seen anyone do in the snow.

One by one, Ava checked off the list (compiled since birth) of things she longed to do in snow - snowball fight, snow forte, snow man with carrot nose, infamous snow angel, all the while (and dead seriously) insisting that she was dreaming it all but that in this dream the snow felt more hard and wet and cold.  In her first dream (the night before), she explained, it felt soft like marshmallows and warmer.  I'll never forget those moments.  Long as I live.

I took pictures (bless my little camera, hung in there right through the blizzard, but it was scary!) and Jack wandered aimless, determined to leave his tracks on every smooth and perfect bit of rolling snow he could find, till we could go no more. 

We woke the next morning so happy to see snow still on the ground and eager to do it all again - but this time with DAD! (he had taken a rental car home from Dallas and sneaked in around midnight). 

Everything is more fun (and painful) with Dad! 

Yes, yes.  The snow was deep, the sun was shining, JD was home.  Oh the joy.

Dear JD,

How are you?  All is well here at home.

We are all fever free (finally!) and only a slight cough remains of whatever dreadful virus plagued us these past few weeks.  All my company have come and gone (Hi Daddy!  Miss you.) and I used the last few quiet, unscheduled days to sew my little heart out - right to the point of causing the bobbin to cry Uncle and stop working completely.  Poo.

Gosh, you have been so patient with my unintended blog absence and it didn't go unnoticed.  As a token of thanks, I brought the camera and your babies with me to feed this afternoon to document the day, just as it occurred.

We stepped out to an overcast day but no rain and a comfortable 60 degrees.  Straight out of the door FRANK ran to you know where

(this thicket is Jane and Henny Penny's favorite hang out) to chase you know who. 

But Jane, being the world's smartest chicken and all, knew just what to do -tattle to Mama - and she did.  So I tended to business and the ladies went back about their's.

And Frank slinked out, ashamed as he well should be.  He KNOWS better.  Stinker.

And exactly 17 seconds later he had recovered from my severe lashing (you know how I am) enough to go about his business as usual. 

Then we were all off, down to the camp for the pre-feed parade the horses put on for us everyday.  So nice of them, that is.

And as usual, immediately following the parade was the stampede to the first feed bucket, like clockwork.

Little sweetie helped Mama and Jack,

well, you know.  The usual.

Have I mentioned I tidied up the camp.  Yup.  See pic below, but I'll warn you - this one pulls you in and makes you stay awhile.

See, told you.

The hay is holding out nicely.  I know how you worry about that.

But the feed buckets are driving me crazy.  We need a new system, for sure - project one when you get home, maybe?  Um, make that project two.  (Sewing machine, One.) 

The new horse is rounding out nicely, don't you think.  I've been calling her GG.

We spent the rest of the evening doing the usual.  Like this.

And that.

And the inevitable.

When we are picking up the new feed troughs remind me to get the kids taller boots.

She misses you.  So much.

And yes, Maggie was there with her usual look that I'll call

PET.  ME.

and yes, I was wearing my red "outside shoes" but THIS time I didn't bother to take off my stripy socks because we live miles and miles from another soul and statistically speaking I could frolic outside in that long, sweatshirt kitty cat nightgown most any day and not get caught.  But Steve dropped by.  And I was a bit embarrassed.

Steve's arrival ignited a new death match between Slick & Slim (two Whippet looking dogs that made themselves at home here while we were away on our exotic diamond expedition).  Embarrassing, AGAIN.  Especially when his dog, Lacy, was so well behaved AND well dressed - every single one of our dogs was nekked as jay birds.  Heathens. 

Anyhoo, about his time, Jack fell down in the pond and screamed that he was coooooooooold while sister risked life and limb to save him.  (Make those tall boots hip waders.)

And that was it.  Typical day.  But no you.

So we laughed a lot less and the kids didn't reach death defying heights on the swings and no one kissed me on the fishing deck.  But you can imagine, these pictures will help. 

Forever Yours,

The Lady of Hillsboro

Like Being Underwater.

Yesterday morning the sun rose (of course) but this time the light was...pink.  Not a little pink, a lot pink.  And I don't mean the sky or the clouds but the light itself and it was very odd.  And very beautiful.  And I don't think I will ever forget it. 

Here is the picture I took straight out of the camera and unedited. 

That very afternoon there were tornados 'round these parts.   Aren't the two sometimes connected or is that just an old wives' tale?

A Favorite Place.

Hunting season is finally over here in Hillsboro and not one minute too soon.  The woods were only open to camo clad gun toters and while there is no actual rule posted anywhere stating this, let one little Mama show up with a camera, two kids, three dogs, and one cat and the mighty hunters will melt into one big, fat hissy fit.  Trust me.

But it was so very hard to stay away.  The woods of Hillsboro still hold so many secrets.  Not to mention that a walk in the woods, especially new woods full of the unexpected, can cure just about any case of the blues or the blahs and end it up with a foot soak in a crystal clear, ice cold spring fed stream and good grief, done everyday, you might live forever.

And we know of just such a place. 

Here is an island where the stream forks, but the best part is behind me...

...dirt bluffs on either side of the water, probably 20+ feet high that not only make you feel like your in a secret cubby hole of earth but Ava can climb the wall, pulling herself upwards with exposed tree roots and delighting in the feel of cool, mushy handholds of soft, green moss. 

Who needs rock walls in noisy malls?

JD and I mainly stand around deeply breathing the fresh air because it doesn't smell a thing like laundry detergent or dish soap or crude oil or airports.

JD - Handsome?  (Can you see him in the picture there?  Look close, he's tough to spot.)

Yes.

Flexible? 

No.

And Frank?  He learned the valuable lesson we must all learn the hard way at some point:

He who steppeth repeatedly in mud,

taketh not the four wheeler home.

The kids can repeat that one by heart.  In four different languages.

*Daddy, JD told you wrong about where this was.  I'll explain it next time we talk.

**I have never intruded on anyone's hunting as implied.  I was nervous just checking my mail during season!

***We did not make little Frankie run all the way home.  We scooped him up as soon as the mud was dry ;)

****That is the first punctuation mark face I have ever made.  It felt wierd. I think I'll erase it.  No.  Yes. No.  Yes.  No.  But only this once.