Today is my birthday.
I'm a whopping 19.
Don't laugh.
A certain tall and beastly humanoid who likes to tease anyone who falls into his trap taunted me endlessly that I was only 12 years older than his daughter and already married and pregnant. Haha, so funny! (not) I forgot to tell him that his wife was 12 years older than me. Hmmm...
Funny, I hear about someone getting married at 18 and I'll make a comment about how young that is... until I remember that I was 18 and Clint and I had to wait for me to turn that so we could get hitched. It doesn't seem like a year ago that he called me at 5:00 in the morning to tell me happy birthday, and we had a "romantic" five minute phone call while my whole family listened. Nice. But, I did get to hear his voice... and it was awfully cute that he called me as such a darn early hour. I love him.
This morning was (is) cold, dark and windy... leaves are falling off the trees and swirling around my yard. I love fall. I have been dreading it all summer long... the season brings a closing to hot days at the creek and sweaty nights of volleyball, all of which I love. But this new time of year is lovely.
I woke up and cooked up some chicken apple sausages... yummy... and toasted a cinnamon bagel with cream cheese and jelly for my hardworking man before he left for work. I usually go down and wave goodbye to him at the driveway while restraining our adorable black puppy who likes car tires. But this morning Clint dragged me back to bed and forced me to watch a movie and relax, 'because it's my birthday'. I feel so spoiled rotten and indulged. He's so sweet to me. After he left I made myself some hot chocolate with some lovely raw milk from church friends, cocoa powder and honey, and.... shhhhh don't tell.... I toasted myself a bagel with butter. It brought back memories of cold mornings in Morgan Hill at the corner bagel shop with my Mom and sister, ordering an onion bagel with butter all wrapped in white paper and slowly eating it in my red and blue plaid school uniform with a gigantic bow on my head (thanks Mom) and black shiny mary-jane's over my knee high socks. Mmm.
After watching The Patriot and getting watery eyes and feeling like a wimp for crying, I tried on one of my new long sleeved maternity shirts my mom bought me.... yesterday I got a package from her in the mail for my birthday. She basically supplied my entire pregnancy wardrobe. I have THE most generous parents EVER. I was so shocked! I opened each thing with my mouth dropped open.... it all kept on coming. But I didn't call to thank her because I didn't want her to know I opened it a day earlier... don't tell her...
I drove into Lobelville with the gas light on. I hate that gas light. Yesterday I drove through backroads for what seemed like hours to deliver my sister and miniature in-laws (the kids) back home from our expeditions with the fuel light on and the little arrow thingie below the empty mark. It made me nervous... I was having visions of running out of gas on the side of the road and begging for assistance from some tabacco chewing redneck. But, that didn't happen to me, and I made it home alive. Amber, my mother-in-law Rachel, and my sister-in-law Amy spent the day at a children's consignment fair... I bought my first set of baby items, for fabulous prices. In the baby room is now a pretty cherry changing table, an adorable swing with black and white toille fabric, a white bassinet, and jogging stroller/car seat combo, and cute fabric sling (the fabric is to die for), some clothes, etc. Although it was painful to hand over the cash, I'm thankful for the incredible deals I got. I'm definitely a fan of consignment now, let me tell ya.
While in Pitkin, Colorado, on our trip last week, Clint and I four-wheeled up to the highest peak as far as we could go, then climbed the rest of it (about 800 feet), ending up at 13,214 feet. It snowed a little while we were up there, and as we were picking our way down the rocky trail, a huge fat marmot appeared... and as Clint had the urge to shoot something (it comes upon him about once a month), he kneeled down, aimed his .22 magnum, and pulled the trigger. The fat thing went rolling down it's rocky perch, and he retrieved it. When I say fat, I mean fat. This thing had nothing inside of it's body but fat. I felt a spine and that's it. I envisioned pure yellow lard lining it's insides. It was kinda cute, and we both felt a little bad about being the cause of it's sudden death... but that eventually passed. I carried it wrapped up in a tarp sitting behind Clint on the very fast ride down the mountain(s) on the four wheeler, thinking I was keeping the blood at bay. But low and behold, when we got back to the camp site, my lap was covered in blood as well as part of the four wheeler. Yuck.
Next post will be a shot of our furry friend and his slaughterer: my hot husband with a gun slung on his back. Mmmmm... a nice view to have up the mountain and down it. As the camera is at home and I have not yet downloaded the photo.... ya'll will have to wait for the scrumptious picture. I'm sure you are terribly disappointed. (wink)
Tonight will be butternut or pumpkin soup... depending on whether this little country store carries pumpkin or butternut squash. Farewell, friends.
