War of the Mouse

I recently bought some of my favorite cookies and realized I never shared this story with you all.

The story of the evil mouse.

When we went to go camping this year, I loaded up the camper with lots of good things to eat and drink.  I mean, if you are camping, you need certain things.

And those certain things always involve the food we never usually buy.

The first morning I awoke in my cozy camper, my mom and I decided to make pancakes.  When I got into my cupboard, in my giant bag of chocolate chips there was a hole.

A giant mouse hole.

It dined well on chocolate chips.

I immediately went on a cleaning rampage and had that camper gleaming spotless.  That mouse wasn't getting any more of my food.

Stinking mouse.

I grabbed a cup of coffee and headed over to my mom's campsite to visit and share my conquest over the mouse. 

As I was sipping my coffee, I looked down.

Mouse

Turd

In

My 

Coffee

I started to gag.  I spewed the coffee from my mouth and dumped all the coffee out on the ground.  I jumped around and may have uttered curses from under my breath. 

Well played, evil mouse.  Well played.

My mom was on the phone at the time and could not figure out what possessed her laid back daughter, me, to act like that.  Then she took pity on me and made me a pot of coffee at her camper.

(We camped with three coffee pots.  Apparently we all need coffee too much to share.  How I love my family.)

Through this process I was texting my sister in law who was still to arrive to the campground.

She only laughed at me.

For a few days later, we seemed to call a truce, that evil mouse and I.  I assumed wrong.  It had not traveled to other campers, it was just laying in wait for me.

It is evil like that.

It ate my cookies.

I have these Dutch cookies that, ironically, The Farmers Wife sent me.  You have to find them in the ethnic isle at the store and it makes me feel very cultured to purchase them.  The lovely added feature of these beyond yummy goodness is that they sit perfectly on your coffee cup, getting all warm and gooey and then you dunk them in your coffee and...

Bliss.

The mouse ate them.

No one came near my camper as I scrubbed the camper down AGAIN.

It was the day before we left.  Everyone steered clear of me as I tore through that camper sure I could hear that mouse giggling.

The first thing I did when I got home was have S1 set traps in the camper.  I placed dcon in the camper.  I layered the thing with fabric softener sheets (It had been prior, just so you know.)

I laughed with joy at the thought of the mouse pulling one on me never again.

As I put away my silverware in my unused silverware drawer that night, I leaned closer down.

Mouse turds.

My reaction was not a joyous one.

Mice.

I hate them so.

Well, except the Cinderella kind.  But THEY would have made me new Stroopwaffles.

And that is the mouse story, be that as it may.

For added entertainment, want to glimpse my text to my sister in law as she was headed out to us?  She giggles over them still...

Me - I forgot soap. Plllllleeeeeeeaaaaasssssseeeee bring me a bar of girl soap.  Thanks.

Her - I don't have girl soap.  I only have zest. Want that?

Me - No Zest.  Thanks.  That is the only sap I have strong feeling about. Dove or Olay. Please and Thanks.

Me - Did you get my message?  Zest is fine. I will even sing the zestfully song! It's Irish spring I detest so greatly.

Her - (Your brother) hates that kind to.  I grabbed you one!!

Me - You rock.  Thank you!!

Me - Bring dcon by the tons. I have been infested. They ate my chocolate chips. I am freaking out!!!!

Her - Raccoons?

Me - MICE!!!!!! In. My. Camper!!!!!!  This has NEVER happened!!!!!

Me - I am currently furious and cleaning.

Her - From the campground?  Thats just wrong.

Me - Which is why I am freaking out.  And it's a mean one.  It put a turd in my COFFEE and I did not see it until I had drunken some.  You can understand my hatred at the moment.

Her - The way you put that made me laugh even if its not really funny.

My sister in law.  I love her so.  And I am glad she loves me so. 

Photo A Day

I noticed on instagram that a lot of people were posting #PhotoADay.  And then a friend filled me in...they follow a list of things to take a photo of every day.

I thought this sounded fun so I did it for July.

I missed a few days but all in all, I kept up with it pretty well.

The thing I have found to be the MOST fun is that all day you are looking for that photo you are going to take.  It's like a treasure hunt.  On days I didn't check first, I usually kicked myself because a moment would come to mind that would have worked great but I had missed.

The other thing I have enjoyed is getting help from the boys and my husband on this.  My husband every once in awhile asks me what the picture of the day is and helps me keep an eye out for it.  So then it's even more fun and even more like a treasure hunt!

In July when I had run out ideas to blog about because it was so dang hot, I should have been blogging my photos.  Someone might have thought them fun...like Cohagen Chronicles, I think.  Because I got the idea really from her when I found myself looking for her new photo a day (she has some fancy other list...and she has TALENT.)

Anyhow, here is the list for August....

Here is the post that explains the rules and introduces you to the creator...

Photo A Day August Challenge

by Fat Mum Slim

Living Life Inspired

Lost in Bugs

Today, on my buffet, next to an old photo of the boys and I on a long ago Mother's Day, sits a container of bugs.

Yes, bugs.

While this may be common place to my friend Mary who has a daughter who would be able to name all the bugs by their proper names and have an entire habitat set up for them in a blink, even with my boys this is not common.

Usually, the bugs and critters stay outside.  But some insane creative teacher has decided that the students should begin a bug collection.  S2 and his friends are taking this very seriously.

He assures me the bugs stay in the container and never ever could get out.  I have not dared to ask what the container holds.  But today, as we drove home in the suburban....I'll pause for you to realize how confined a suburban is....he opened the lid.  "The spider needs a little air," he explained to S4.

Spider?

Later, as I looked on my computer all curled up in our lazy boy chair luxiously drinking coffee, a large black spider scurried across our carpet.

My cat ate it.

I will not tell this to S2.  

I am not sure just what is expected of the kids in this project.  I know I keep getting asked, "Mama, what's this bug?' as he prepares to drop it in the container.  I never can concentrate on it long enough to tell him.  

"A bug....I don't know," is all I get out.

The song "My favorite kind of bugs are DEAD" by Buck Howdy is now running constantly through my head.

But this....this really has me worried.

As S2 ran off to class this morning - wait, he ran to the door, he wasn't actually running in school (in case any teacher may happen to read this) - I stopped to give S1 his hug and let him know we were having spaghetti for dinner tonight.

"Uh, Mama, I thought you should know...S2 is planning on bringing a snake to school."

"What? When?"

"He's going to check with his teacher today."

"He hasn't told me."

"I'm not sure he was going to."

"Ummm, uh, thanks for the heads up," I stammered.

"I figured you would want to know," he shrugged as he meticulously put away his homework and lunch.

What's worse - if there could be a worse - is that they caught ANOTHER snake today.  That makes TWO snakes living in the water tank turned natural habitat outside my dining room window.  One for them, one for the school.

Sigh.

If a snake gets a ride to school, I guarantee you, dear readers, I will be blogging about it.  But for my sake (and sanity) I truly hope it doesn't happen.

Pukes NOT Pucks

(a post not for the soft stomached)

Yesterday, I left my house for the first time since Thursday morning.

After dropping the boys off at school

ON TIME

I went home to make Death by Chocolate Scones.

Then I went over the library that I love so dearly.

The library I just happen to work at.

There we ate scones, drank delicious tea from quaint tea cups with saucers and watched this movie.

I so love this movie.

I really love the book as well.

While I have read it before, I never did finish the book in time for this book club.

It was a grand time.

After the movie and chat (we are going to stick with reading woman authors and taking suggestions), we decided to read Little Women next.  My ultimate favorite book.  And Alice hasn't read it and this makes me a wee bit worried about her. ;)

After all that girl time, I picked the boys up from school and we headed to Meijer so they could spend the Christmas money that has been burning holes in their pockets.

S1 loaded up on clearanced hunting gear, and was shocked d things can add up to $45 dollars rather quickly.  He was nearly ready to get in an argument with the cashier, but she was right, not him.

S2 got BB's, air soft bullets, nerf bullets and a target.

S3 got a new game for his Leapster and a case to carry his Leapster.  It was fun to hear him say, "YES! Now I can do subtraction!"

S4 found himself a lego boat he can use in the tub (can it get any better?) and sunglasses.

I was thankful I had some girl time earlier in the day.

But it wasn't long after we were home that S1 informed me he wasn't feeling well, and it wasn't long after that he was puking.

It's been years since he has been this sick, since his Boar hunt, actually.

I don't handle puke well.

Like, at all.

Husband does things like that shockingly well.

I can change diapers, I can clean disgusting things, I can do most anything.

But not puke.

As we heard S1 puking throughout the night, husband (exhausted from hours of plowing and hours of fixing plow trucks) said sleepily, "Go help him."

To which I - and yes, I feel some shame in admitting this - said, "What am I going to do? Just let him puke it out and fall back asleep."

Yah, I'm that kind of a mom.

At around one in the morning, S2 came down and began puking too.

Thankfully, we have two buckets.

This morning I wrote a facebook status bemoaning the fact that I had puking boys.

But I wrote PUCK instead of PUKE.

Which is funny to me, hilarious really, and that could be because of my lack of sleep and the fact that I have been dealing with puke for nearly two weeks on and off.

I could well be sick of pucks.

Because this is a picture of my boys over the weekend.

And people know my boys well enough to know that they COULD have pucks IN the house and how that always seems to turn out.

I'd so much rather have that then this.

My poor sick boys.  I am bleaching and lysoling and hoping that I don't catch this bug at all.

Say a prayer for us.
Say a prayer that I can handle dumping buckets of puke.  I know that sounds awful, but it's really hard on me.  And my two oldest boys are as pale as the snow and lifeless today, I feel so awful for them.

Celebrate MOM on the 1st Day of School

As you drop you little ones off at the school door...

If you cheered big cheers or cried crocodile tears....

You NEED to read this post by one of my very best friends, The Farmer's Wife.

Seriously, she nailed this one.

You can thank me later.....

Cuz I know you will.  It's that good.

Cohagen Chronicles

House Flies

I am embarrassed to even admit this.....but.......

We are currently bombarded with house flies.

Consider yourself sufficiently warned if you come over.

It's bad when you have friends over and say "Excuse me" and begin swatting the nasty things as you try to carry on a conversation as though it's just as normal as can be.

I laugh when someone says "I have four flies in my kitchen and they are driving me batty."

I laugh because I know how batty ONE fly is to me.

And because there are probably 4o flies in my kitchen right now. As I type this. Hoping they don't find me in the dining room (where my computer is).

The boys find it a sport of sort. And if they get a nice fat juicy fly they run it out to feed the toads and frogs and snakes and whatever else is out there in the water tank.

I, however, have terrible aim.

I can NOT enter fly season without thinking of Mary over in Montana. This is one of my most favorite posts from her...

That statement is so very sad and so very true.

Anyway, You all MUST read this post. It's a true classic. And further evidence that my life and her life can be eerily the same...even if I don't have her beautiful cows.

Deep Meaningful Post For You.

Pick My Purse

I am in desperate need of a new purse. I have a plain brown one, I have a plain black one, I have an orange one I got from Title Nine that I looooooove to use all fall and winter. Love it. But in the summer I need something bright.

I always pick the color brown. It is MY color. But I have been looking for a purse that screams me and I can have fun with all summer long.

And that can hold my camera and wallet and flip cam and water bottle and trail mix and sunglasses and S4's matchbox cars and a notebook and ink pens......you get the idea.

I was scrolling through a site that Cohagen Chronicles had found her amazing purse at. She had set up two purses that she couldn't decide on and her readers picked their favorite.

So I have decided to do the same.

This first purse is what S3 and S4 picked out for me. Seriously. Turquoise is my most favoritest color OTHER than brown. And at first I laughed at it but the more I looked at it, I really really really liked it.

A lot.

Here is purse Number One.

My question is, will I regret this purse later? I looooove the color. I do. But is it too daring and fun?

The second purse is a turquoiseish color but a safer color, you know what I mean? It's actually called "teal". It doesn't scream at you. It's my mom's favorite. But like I said, it's not nearly as thrilling.
And here is the safe purse. Actually, if this purse were in turquoise, I'd get this one and not think twice about it. This is my safe boring comfy leather chair brown. I love the toggle, how cute!

So leave me a comment and tell me what purse you like the most. I will then run a post just like the Farmer's Wife did and show it off when it arrives.

Pleeeeeeaaaaasssseeee help a girl out!!!!!!

Cohagen Chronicles

Happy

500th

Blog Post

to

my very dear ranching friend

the Farmer's Wife

Congratulations!

and we should all have tiara's

Celebrate with her here at

500!!!!!!

Review of the Dinosaur Hunter by Homer Hickam

I have been waiting to read this book. Everyone I told I was anxiously awaiting its arrival said "Who is the author?"

Homer Hickam.

You probably know him. Remember the movie October Sky? That was him. I recently read his book Red Helmet. And if you have seen an author talking about the Chilean Mine Disaster...or any tragic mine disaster...it's usually him. Or, if you have seen an author talking about our space program...it's probably him.

See, you DO know who he is!

So, I was very excited for this book to come out in our area. I looked every time I was out. But to be honest, the only places I have time to look for books is when I am out grocery shopping. I haven't seen it yet. So when Alicia at the local library I love so much pulled it out of the box of new books for me, I felt it was Christmas early.

I am the very first person from our local library to read this book. I feel honored.

First of all, do you see how pretty it is?

Can one call a book pretty?

I think you can.

Because it is.

And not too thick either! I started the book on the day I got it...and then was able to finish it later that weekend when my wonderful Husband let me read it ALL AFTERNOON AND EVENING. Not like he had to twist my arm to read it...he just let me take it easy and took over the boys for me. THAT was the best gift!

Because this book is a gift. It tells the story of Mike, a former CA cop turned cowboy in Montana. It is his story about the summer a Dinosaur hunter came to the ranch he worked on and the events (and murders) that then occurred.

Immediately upon first starting this book, I was reminded of the hours I have spent reading Louis L'Amour books. That alone was enough to make me feel like I was just hearing the story of an old friend.

The simple way Homer uses his words is powerful. In the beginning I read "See you," Jeanette said as Ray carefully edged down the road, trying to keep his boots out of the mud. "See you," Ray said over his shoulder. There were never wasted words on the Square C. To translate, what Jeanette and Ray had just said was: "I love you, I will always love you, and I would die for you in a heartbeat." I said "See you," which meant the same to both of them.

And I cracked up at Homer's constant humor. This one had me snickering for a bit (because it is sad but true) "There, predictably, a Chinese fire drill was goin on (as we used to call confusion and turmoil before we all became politically correct and the Chinese bought our country)...."

But page 163 was where my favorite part of the book began, because there is where Mike visits the library, where he meets the impressive and lovely Mary Dutton Parker. And we all know that there are cool smart and pretty librarians out there.....okay, I may be prejudice on this! Mary is a character written after the Mary we all know and love over here, Mary is the Farmer's Wife at Cohagen Chronicles. For this reason alone I would love this book.

But it's not the only reason I like this book.

The story had me guessing until the end, I appreciate stories like that. Homer did such a superb job making his characters real that when the end happened, you wondered why you didn't figure it out sooner...they all did just what you knew they were capable of.

It is a delightful read, it made my wish to visit Montana stronger. Homer fell in love with this state, with these wonderful people he met there and it is obvious his love of the area and the way of life.

When the book ended, I felt I had said goodbye to good friends. I wanted to sit in a folding chair with ol' Mike and clink our gin and tonic and watch the sun rise and the sun set talking about ranching, dinosaur's and life.

The only bad part about having read this book is that now I MUST own it. I would have liked the read no matter what, I think, being bias with the friendship I have with Mary and the times I have been blessed to chat with Homer on Facebook and Twitter....but I did not expect to love this book as much as I did.

Read it. Winter is a great time to curl up with a great book. But if you are getting toward the end, know you will be completely unable to put it down and you may even tear up (honestly, I cried).

And when you are done with that, read Red Helmet. It's another one of those books I need to own too.

I was not asked to write this.

The opinion is totally my own.

I just wanted to share it with you,

Thank you, Homer, for writing this book. For spotlighting Montana and

the wonderful people and way of life they live there.

I knew this book would be good.

But it was wonderful...better than I could have imagined.

Thank you.

Did You Know I Make Awesome Boats?

Cuz I do.

With a ton of help....mostly from Montana.

One might wonder how a Michigan mom gets help from a Montana Rancher to make a 1st grade class boat....until I mention Facebook and all of you say "Ah, yes, the power of Facebook."

S1 was asked to make a boat in first grade, as I recall, and he made one of egg cartons. We never really gave it any mind.

S2 made a boat for first grade, of egg cartons again, and we went to the school open house where we gandered at the boats and realized....this was a huge deal we had somehow totally missed out on.

So when S3 came home, note wadded in the bottom of his back pack, about the boat building...well, there were two older brothers and a Moma who were gonna help him make this boat!

There were quite a few dinner discussions about this and we collectively decided that the best way to build this amazing boat would be to use soda bottles.

But when Sunday came around and it was the LAST day of the weekend to make the boat before the weekend was over....no one was home but me and a first grader who wanted a fast boat and a four year old who sacrificially gave up his precious orange soda that he had been slowly sipping out of for the weekend (soda is a luxury here).

The idea we had was simple enough and we finished and even decorated it in less time than i imagined it would take. We set it in the tub and marveled how well it floated. But it was also suppose to hold weight, I had heard, and when we put weight in it, it flipped right over.

So I went to Facebook, begging the two men I knew who could help me to indeed, help me. But Hubs didn't happen to check his phone but W did and thank goodness cuz he was full of ideas to make a boat float.

We went Survivor man Style (two boats, I was forced to drink a Cherry Coke I hadn't opened from the Breathe Writers Conference, thank goodness!) and it floated and it held weight (thank goodness for Duct Tape, but finding some to use that didn't have Red Green's name on it proved a bit tricky) and even when S1 arrived home, he was impressed.

I glowed.

The amazing boat.

We sent it to school the next day, sure it would do wonderful and that's when I found the crinkled up note again...you know, the paper with boat directions?

The boat was supposed to be the size of your fist.

Technically, I mused, the boat would fit in Husband's fists....

But I knew that didn't count so I contacted the teacher - who, May I mention again, is WONDERFUL - and she told me I did do a lovely job on the boat but a smaller one would be nice.

We brainstormed all that night. S3 threw out every single brilliant idea we came up with...not that we had that many brilliant ideas. I may have even pleaded for help on Facebook.

In the end, we sent him to school with a cork. It floats.

But S3 is still raving about the wonderful boat I made him. Or, um, HE made for his FIRST GRADE HOMEWORK.

I guess it'll make an awesome bath toy......

Happy Birthday to the Farmer's Wife

Today is my dear friends birthday and since I cannot bring her over coffee, because I can not bake her a peanut butter chocolate cake, because her gift may be slightly more than a little late...

Because it's my blog.....

I get to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE FARMER'S WIFE (my dear dear dear friend).

I'm not sure when I started following her blog, but I do know I'd didn't even mark that I did because I didn't know if she might be crazy (which she is, in a good way). Then I read a post that was talking about how she checks to see where her readers are from and got all freaked out and decided if she was going to know I was reading it I might as well say hello.

I'm not sure when we started emailing, but every bit of "don't share personal information with strangers" warning lights were going off in my head. But I'm glad we chatted away anyhow...because her family is such an integral part of our family and we have never even met yet.

We find times to chat on the phone. We fire emails back and forth. We have sent mini novels back and forth. We can get long conversations going on facebook.

I'm not sure how boring my life was before my dear friend and her family, but I sure know our lives would be empty without them.

One day, Farmer's Wife, I hope we celebrate our birthdays together. But until then, know you are very very very very loved by every one of us. Thank you for your friendship.

And for the good coffee.

Here is the blog post I recall reading and realizing we were dear friends, perhaps sisters separated, kindred spirits.....

The Ten Commandments of Coffee (according to me...)

Here is the post that makes me giggle right now because my house is being bombarded with flies this week and I keep thinking of this one....

A Deep Meaningful Post for Your Contemplation

But all her posts are wonderful. Her Husband is the best and the boys may possibly think of him in Hero Status. And her kids, oh my. Oh my, oh my. I get to experience the fun of having a daughter through her posts and her pictures...the boy, I understand boys.

Check out her blog because You. Will. Love. Her. Tell her Happy Birthday, make her day grand.

Love you, my dear friend....

Yummy Blueberry Shakes

I have five million blog posts to write to you all. Okay, maybe not five million but literally I am jotting notes all the time down next to the computer. I need to be grounded...sent to my room and refused to be let out until all these blog posts are done....I wish. Kids, they have it so good.

But I do have this funny little story to tell you.

I heard Cohagen's Chronicles talking about Blueberry Shakes and got thinking how yummy those are at the 50"s diner my Dad and Mom take me to every once in a blue moon and then wondered, hey, why can't I make them?

So I made the boys be my guinea pigs.

I made them with enough blueberries to make them blue and chunky a bit, vanilla ice cream and milk.

S1 sipped long. "Moma, these are sooooooooo good. You could, like, be a professional shake maker."

S2 agreed with, "Yah, you should really get a job at McDonald's."

"McDonald's!" S1 cried. "Oh no, somewhere better than McDonald's!" He sipped again. "Burger King or some place nicer like that!"

I'll take a compliment any way I can.....

A Desperate Day Calls for Red High Heels or Painted Toes

Today was beautiful. So very close your eyes and soak in the sun and sigh and thank God for such beauty.

Wonderful day.

And I had mountains of laundry to do. I think we have spoken before on such things. But lets just put it this way, my mother seen my laundry pile and told me to go to the laundry mat...and start purging boys clothes too.

I was working on enjoying the chore of hanging the clothes on the line because the lilacs were hanging in there for me. I could drink in their intoxicating sweet smell.

So, I am working on hanging clothes on the line, cleaning carpets (a long story I won’t bore you with) and S4 informs me he isn’t feeling well. This is unlike him. He laid on the couch and informed how his tummy, his legs, his head, his toes all hurt. And then he napped so I know he wasn’t feeling well. I brought down all his stuffed animals, tucked him in on the couch, filled his favorite Lightning cup with Gatorade, sat by his side when he asked.

Yet, when he was in the bathroom puking he stops and says “See, I told you I had to frow up”. What’s the point with arguing with a four year old.

As he continued to not feel well and run for our one toilet in the house to puke or not to, he would ask me to sit with him and rub his back. He’d hold his hand up and show me a fist, fingers, hand...however it was he felt he needed his back rubbed. It totally cracked me up but I couldn’t laugh at him. That would be mean.

So, I was cleaning puke and doing laundry. You can see how my day was going. And on facebook, two of my friends on opposite sides of the country who do not know each other were also lamenting laundry.

It was in the air, I tell ya.

So what did I do with one of my friends? We looked up red high heels. Because that is what you do when you are folding laundry and feeling unstylish.

I have long dreamed of wearing dark jeans and a cute blouse and RED HEELS. And I found a pair I just love. But they are eighty dollars. I can buy a lot of groceries for eighty dollars. (and they are sold out)

Sigh.

I was thinking of the cute outfit I could have, the Broadway show I could see, the glamour I may one day find as I was rubbing S4’s back and waiting for him to puke when I noticed how badly my unpainted toes look.

So, as soon as dinner was done, I grabbed my nail polish, sat on the stool in the kitchen, and painted my toe nails. My hubby was very late for dinner (never got home till quarter to nine) or he would have joined my boys in thinking I had truly gone crazy.

Girl crazy.

Cuz sometimes, a girl has gotta do what a girl has gotta do. And if a girl has to pass on beautiful shoes, fold camo laundry, clean puke, resteam clean the carpet, well, at least she can do it with her toes a beautiful shade of NYPD Beet. I feel much better now! (as does S4, who after puking got ALL BETTER in time for Hubby to come home....I'm glad he is better but you know how it goes, Hubby is wondering if he really was sick.)

Between Friends, Chapter Six

Here it is, the ending of the great escapades of Flo and Joanie, Amelia and Hans. It's been tons of fun!!!! Next week we'll go back to stories from our snowed in homes.....thanks for checking in!!!!

Fern and Joanie both leaned forward to hear more. They would love to know what is going on.

“I am truly one of the “good guys”,” Hans began. “Clara has been working undercover here in Homer for quite some time. She has nearly single handily brought down these thugs, but now she is dead and we have to assume she had cracked the case.”

“Oh land sake alive, Clara broke the case. Did you hear that, Fern?” Joanie blathered.

Fern felt the need for chocolate. She would have to keep a “solving cases” supply for the next time such an occasion came up. And she desperately needed a refill of coffee. She glanced longingly at the coffee shop/tire shop as they passed. If only Amelia could see them right now......
But this was not the time to begin waning . “That does not explain what you did to Joanie here.” Fern turned her “you had better start explaining right now” dagger look right to Hans.

“I sincerely apologize about that.” Hans did look remorseful. He glanced at Joanie. “You fainted dead away when I came to the door. I had just heard the news about Clara and had come down to see what was going on,” his voice caught briefly, “But I found you at her back door in stead. When I seen you leave with the package, I had to get it back from you. But you fainted and the call came in that we thought we had the target and imagine my surprise when next I seen you up and talking with the target!”

Just then Fern's phone burst into “Don't Be Cruel”. She was able to find it in record time. “Heeeelllloooo?” she answered hoping she sounded her normal self.

“Fern? Oh, Fern! It's Amelia. I know you said you'd call back but I had to tell you...this just in, Clara was POISONED!”

“No!” gasped Fern.

“Oh, lands sake alive that doesn't sound very good.” Joanie fretted next to her.

“Yes! I'll have more for you just as soon as Clyde finds out more. Where ARE you, Fern?”
“Um, calling you back soon, Dearie,” Fern tried to sound chipper. Before Amelia could ask more, she flipped the phone shut.

“Clara was poisoned,” she reported.

“How do you know? That hasn't come across the wires to me,” Hans wanted to know.

“We have a system much faster than any FBI,” Fern informed him.

“Why was the note at the bottom of the blueberries?” asked Joanie suddenly.

“The note?” Hans asked quizzically as he turned the truck down an old rutted dirt road. There were driving further than Fern had expected them too. But then again, she really hadn't expected much more than death when she first climbed in so far all was going just peachy keen.

“Lands sake, you don't know about the note? It says “Keep your Hans off my property”,” Joanie explained.

“Dexter.....” Hans mumbled. “Clara has suspected he is just a behind the scenes player, but I think he may just be the master mind after all. We have been working undercover to find a gang of masterminds who have found a way to undetectably lace food with a severely toxic poison. I must conjecture that Clara was done in by this poison on her last trip in to the market by Dexter himself but...blueberries did you say it was?...was probably also laced when he hadn't heard that the job had been done.”

“Book club blueberries?????” Joanie was incredulous.

“It's a good thing we stick to eating butter and chocolate rather than organic something or another,” Fern nodded smartly.

Suddenly, right before them, was the most peculiar sight. A man was hanging by his feet from a tree and a group of children were gathered around him. Hans slammed the truck to stop and they all piled out to look closer at the sight. The lone little girl and a fully dressed in red little boy about the age of seven, she must be about six, had a wooden homemade bow pulled back with a wooden pointed arrow right at the man. Three little boys between the ages of three and five were howling like Indians and the oldest boy, about ten, had his BB gun aimed at the man on the tree. “Dexter!” Hans cried in surprise.

“Are you the authorities?” asked the boy. “I caught this guy in my trap and he seemed suspicious to me so I radioed my Dad and he called the authorities. Are you them?”
Hans held out his FBI badge. “Good job, son!” He quickly pulled the sputtering Dexter from the tree, handcuffing him.

“I had it all planned! The shipment was headed out tonight if it wasn't for that old lady and her book clubbing posse! If they had just left this all alone, the success we would have had!”

“Lands sake, it couldn't have been much hard work on your part,” Joanie cackled to Dexter, “to be found out by some old book clubbers and bunch of Homerian children!”

Fern's phone began to vibrate but she caught it before it broke into song. “They might have the man who killed Clara treed over by the old mill road,” Amelia informed breathless.

“Well, he is caught and confessed,” Fern reported. “Case closed.”

Between Friends, Chapter Five

Ohhhhhhh, the Farmer's Wife hit it right on with this one! Oh, this newest chapter is thrilling!!!!! I am so regretting turning in my Alias soundtrack to the library right now, I could use it for inspiration to write the next and last chapter.

She is so brilliant with her descriptions here. It was a total blast to read this chapter!

Enjoy!

http://cohagenchronicles.blogspot.com/2010/02/between-friends-chapter-5.html

Between Friends, Chapter Four

Be sure to check out yesterday's post first which is a visit to Cohagen's Chronicles (where the Farmer's wife and I are obviously too bored with snow to think of anything to write about with our families right now so we have turned to fiction), to catch up with our slueths Fern and Joanie before you begin reading......

CHAPTER FOUR

Fern leaped into action. She pulled the smelling salts from her zebra faux purse and began waving them under Joanie's nose. Thank goodness she had kept those in there from the last time Homer Grand Theater had shown Out of Africa...oh, that dreamy Robert Redford.

Joanie sat up with a stunned squeal.

“Mr Cuddles? Wait, FERN? Where is Mr. Cuddles and (gasp) that MAN.....”

Fern surmised she had hit her head harder than she thought.

“Joanie, I don't know where your dog is right now. You need to concentrate.”

“Dog? I don't have a dog. I have only Mr. Cuddles.”

She must have hit her head VERY hard. “Joanie...concentrate. Yes, you have a dog. Look, see all the dog toys all over the place?”

“No no no, those are Mr Cuddles' play toys. He is such a large cat.....” Just than the monstrous yellow tabby cat jumped in her lap. Fern's raised eyebrows cause Joanie to pull the behemoth cat a bit tighter to her....she had been told before that Mr. Cuddles needed to lay off the vanilla ice cream.

Fern shut the door soundly behind her. “Joanie, what happened?”

“A large super handsome, Fern, he was suuuuupppppeeeeerrrrrr handsome, man was at the door and he spoke, well, lands sake, like no one in Homer has EVER spoken.”

This was Fern's Watson?

Sherlock Fern Holmes pushed herself to her feet, helped Joanie to the table and put in her call to Amelia.

“Have you learned anything yet?” no need to chat with all these crazy happenings in her town. It appeared it was up to Fern and her book clubbers to get to the bottom of this mystery alone.

“Well, Clyde, he tells me that Clara's death seems odd, they can't really pin it on anything in particular. The coffee shop is just abuzzin over Clara's boyfriend, Hans.”

“HANS is Clara's boyfriend?” Fern plopped in the chair next to Joanie.

“You know him?” Amelia asked.

“Oh no....but I have heard tell.”

“Lands sake alive, who knew that Clara was such a cougar?” asked Joanie, fully shocked. She shuffled over to the mirror to reapply that frosted rose lipstick she always kept near her.

Fern quickly filled Amelia on the bare facts of what she and Joanie had learned, which, giving only the bare facts added up to nothing. At all. Except for the blueberries delivered to the door.

“But, well, blueberries delivered to the door? That doesn't make any sense! The Farmer's Market is to
day, those blueberries would have to show up tonight to make any sense of someone missing Clara and dropping them off.”

Fern suddenly realized they were on the trail again. “Joanie, we're going for a ride down to the Farmer's Market.” Fern went back to talking on the phone. “Amelia, we'll be checking in soon. Keep your ear open to any new news.”

Joanie made sure her lipstick was reapplied, the Mr. Cuddles knew where she was, the note from the blueberries was safelyin her rrhinestone clutch and her pep-too bismal pink scarf was securely tied around herperfectlyycoiffedd hair and when she was securely settled into thepassengerr car of the pink Honda gold wing, they were off to the Farmer's Market, completely in conspicuous.

The Homer Farmers Market was a long standing area attraction. It was held on the courthouse lawn every Wednesday and Saturday. Fern's idea was simple, she would just find a vendor that was selling blueberries and ask if they knew Clara because she just raved about the blueberries and than ask the farmer what on earth the note meant.

Simple.

Joanie was soon distracted by a little girl selling cat nip toys but Fern was not easily swayed by the flower bouquets, sweet corn and the like. She found the only friendly looking family selling blueberries and they had not sold to Clara but they were more than helpful in pointing out the vendor who did. An old man whose eyes were a bit too much like a possom's for Fern's liking. She meandered over to the conniving little man. Fern didn't recognize him from around town. And he didn't seem overly thrilled to be there.....almost like a cover of sorts.

“Do you have any blueberries?” Fern asked.

“Sure. But they are more then the farmers down the row,” he growled to her.

“Yes,” Fern nodded, a chill going through her, “but CLARA told us to see you.”

Joanie appeared at her side with a bag full of cat nip toys. “Clara, you say?”

“Oh!” chirped Joanie, “You know Clara? Then you must have dropped off the blueberries to her house.” Fern noticed his eyes darting around now. “Oh, they are fine blueberries. But lands sake, why's this in the bottom of the quart box?” Joanie began reading the now unfolded note aloud “Keep your Hans off my........”

“You two are in over your head.........” the man hissed, grabbing for the note. But just then he caught a glance at something that must have frightened him and suddenly he turned to run.

Fern looked behind her to see a perfectly handsome man, tall, built like a younger Arnold Schwarzenegger running toward her. He stopped and held his hand out to her. “hello,” his deep accented voice said, “I am Hans, Clara's boyfriend. And I believe you two are in much danger. Come with me.”

Don't Forget to Check In.....

With Cohagen Chronicles to catch Chapter Three. Neither one of us will tell the other what we are gong to write. Here is what the Farmer's Wife added to the chapter two, now what will I write for Chapter four tomorrow????????

Hope you are having as much fun as we are!

http://cohagenchronicles.blogspot.com/2010/02/between-friends-chapter-3.html

Before Reading ANY further.....

If you have not read Chapter One of Between Friends DO NOT READ THE NEXT POST until you have wandered on over to

http://cohagenchronicles.blogspot.com/2010/02/between-friends-chapter-1.html

to read the first installment. As I have stated before, The Farmer's Wife and I are bored this winter and so we are making up a story as we go. She wrote the first chapter and did not tell me what was even about. I read it, and wrote chapter two. She will have Chapter Three on her blog on Tuesday, Chapter Four here on Wednesday, Chapter Five at her blog on Thursday and I really think she and I will work together to post the ending come Friday.....if we can end it that quickly.... :) Neither one of us has any idea what the other will write, we just have to make it work with what the other wrote.

Just something fun to do this week! Hope you enjoy!!!!!

Between Friends.....Chapter Two

“Joanie? This is Fern.”

“Lands sake, Fern, I thought you would never call me. Me and Mr. Cuddles are just stupefied. Stupefied I tell you. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.”

Fern looked over to the dusty wineglasses. She was regretting the fact that she had not hidden more bon bons in the glass. Or a bottle of wine. “Joanie!” she snapped, knowing full well how long Joanie could go on and on with her “oh dears”.

“So you do think so? Oh, Fern, I was so afraid of that. I should have never told her to never step into my house again. But poor Mr. Cuddles! Just because she dislikes cats doesn't mean she had to insult my poor Mr. Cuddles! His feelings were so hurt! But I had to tell her that right in Mr. Martin's Pharmacy when I stopped in for my chocolate coke because she is so sour on poor Mr. Cuddles you know. Lands sake, I just don't know what came over me! But now she is dead and I just know they will come for me. Even you agree with me....oh, and then what will happen to my poor Mr. Cuddles when they lock me away?”

Fern was digging through every shelf in the pantry. There had to be some chocolate in there somewhere.

“Joanie...focus. Focus! No one thinks you had anything to do with Clara's death.”

“You really think so? My lands, I have been calming Mr. Cuddles telling him not to worry...”

“And you shouldn't.” Snapped Fern. No wonder she had given up dying her hair. With friends like Joanie you were just going to go gray. She glanced at the clock. Not much more time before Days of our Lives came on. Fern suddenly remembered the stash of carmellos in the freezer and with that she began pulling out ice cube trays for her sweet tea as she tried again, with force, to reason with Joanie.

“Now Joanie, you know Clara was supposed to be bringing the dessert to Book Club Thursday night.”

“Oh my lands, oh my. Will we still have book club? Mr. Cuddles was …..."

“Yes.” Fern interrupted, sticking the Carmelo bar in the microwave and wondering at her thought process on that one. FROZEN Carmelo bar? Really. It'd take forever to thaw! “Clara, as rigid a rule keeper as she was, would prefer us to move ahead with our plans. But, Joanie, now you will have to make the dessert. And you know she was going to make us some sort of broccoli spinach surprise so you might as well go over there and find out what it was so it doesn't spoil. That would be plumb wasteful.”

“You mean,” Joanie whispered, “break in?”

“Bless her poor healthy heart, Joanie, Clara would want us to use up all her organic something or another. And it's really ours anyhow, it being for book club and all.” Fern slurped down a brick of the Carmelo bar. Once you got past the freezer burn, it was pretty good. “Now, I have to go so you call me and let me know what to expect you to bring tomorrow night at book club.” She hung up before Joanie could get another word in.

Days of our Lives was waiting.

Joanie stared ahead at the brick house on the other side of the perfectly kept hedges. Clara always kept those hedges so straight. The little brick house that had always seemed so cold seemed especially so now.

But Fern and Amelia couldn't be without dessert for book club, that would never do. She would have to go over. They were counting on her.

“Lands sake, Mr. Cuddles,” she stroked the big yellow cat in her arms, “You needn't worry so. I'll just run on over and be back in a jiffy.” She scooped a bit of vanilla ice cream out for Mr. Cuddles and put it at his place on the table. “Here now, you work on that while I am gone.”
Joanie glanced into the mirror next to the door and reapplied her passion rose lipstick before she headed out her pink door and over to Clara's.

Arriving at the back door, she knocked and waited a moment. “Lands sake,” she giggled, “I'm glad Mr. Cuddles didn't notice me doing such a thing. Knocking.” She peeked into the window but, as always, the shades were pulled tight. That Clara. She felt a bit of sadness. All that sourness had made Clara live a dull life. So rigid. Not trusting, not even of her dearest, cutest friend. Joanie tried the door, but it was locked as always. And Clara never had given her a key.

“Well, molten lava cake it will have to be,” she said aloud to herself, because the thought at being at an empty house, even a fellow book clubber, was a bit eerie. She stumbled back a bit and when she did, her foot kicked a paper bag, hidden a bit from view behind the watering can. Funny, mused Joanie, Clara had never really watered much of anything that she had noticed.
Joanie creaked down to look at the bag. “For the cobbler” read the black permanent marker. She peeked in and spied two quarts of blueberries.

“Well, I suppose molten cake will be next book club,” Joanie reasoned,, thankful she wouldn't have to break in after all to use up the organic something or another Fern was sure was there in the house. The farm market vendor must have known in advance what Clara had needed this week and dropped it off all neighborly like. “Lands sake, Mr Cuddles will be all worried over me. I best get back.”

She scurried over to her pink door and found Mr. Cuddles finishing his little scoop of ice cream. She checked her reflection in the little round mirror by the sink and reapplied her passion rose lipstick that had faded a bit.

Getting out the strainer, she dumped the blueberries in to wash them. “Lands sake, what's this?” she picked up a tiny folded note in the bottom of the quart box. “What could it be?”
She opened the note and her eyes went wide, the empty quart box dropped to the floor. Mr. Cuddles jumped at the unusual interruption of his usually docile rest on his cat nip smelling chair. Quickly, Joanie grabbed her phone. “Don't you worry, Mr. Cuddles,” she assured him and shakingly dialed Fern's number.

“Fern! Oh Fern! Lands sakes alive, the blueberries!”

A knock at the door interrupted her as she hustled over, forgetting to check her reflection before throwing open the door, very unlike her. But the note! Fern!

A deep thick voice that was dripping in foreigner accent greeted her. “Hello, Joanie is it?” A Dutch looking version of a young Arnold Schwarzenegger stood in her door way. “I am Hans, a, ah, friend of Clara's.”

The phone clattered to the floor.

Rough Sunday ends in Much Laughter

I had a rough day, this Sunday. Sunday's are just not my favorite day of the week. It should be, I know, I wish it were, but it is too rushed and stressed and never goes smoothly. And when it is over, you only have Monday to look forward to.

Take today for instance.......

I went to start dinner first thing, a roast, potatoes...regular Sunday dinner. But Hubby was watching “America Eats” this morning. We all wanted KFC instead. And when I went to wash the potatoes, I realized the sink drain was frozen, again.

I put two french braids in my hair last night so my hair would be all cute and kinky the next morning. But one of the braids came out in the night.

So when I took a shower, the water was luke warm. Which would have been bearable but I had to wash my hair now. And by then I was cold.

Dressed in my cute suit, all fashionable feeling and that, Hubby called me over to see how he was thawing the pipe for the drain. He opened the window up as I leaned over the filled with old coffee, drain water, milk from cereal....and the little cobalt blue vase hit fell off the window and splashed into the sink, soaking my now not smart looking blouse in very icky disgusting water.
The boys had no socks. Or clothes. And they were supposed to get them night before.

I never got a chance to finish my one cup of coffee I had poured for myself.

Church was so cold that my nose about froze off.

S4 decided he didn't want to go to Sunday school and sat with us. When Sunday School had ended, he burst into tears that he hadn't gone to Sunday school and was inconsolable.

When we got home, I went right to work finishing dinner while the boys thought McDonald's Mc Ribs or slow roasted BBQ was sounding better.

S4 kept running in to tell me it was like him and Daddy and the guys were at the movies it was like I was at work and when would my work be done so he could eat?

Dinner finally was done. It was good, they did eat well. Roast, mashed potatoes, beans we canned ourselves, cheesy vegetables, gravy, home made rolls. When dinner was done, Hubby told me “chop chop, this table will have to get cleared. I had a lot of dishes to do.”

I gave up. I went to bed. It was wimpy and pouty but I didn't say anything mean, I just said I was going to bed.

Laying in bed I read on my blackberry a message from my friend MP over at Cohagen's Chronicles (if I knew how to highlight the name so you just click it and go there I would do that for you but I don't....I'm sorry. Here is the address.....http://cohagenchronicles.blogspot.com/
She and I had been talking about our boring winter lives and how our blogs were lacking so she had the brilliant idea to make up a story that we would each write a part off and post on our blogs every day for a week.

She had written a doozy of a beginning.

And it was up to me to write the next installment (which will post tomorrow). It made me giggle right out loud reading it and my head was spinning with ideas.

So I headed out of the bedroom where to find the table cleared, the kitchen busy with Hubby and S1 loading the dishwasher and washing dishes and taking care of all the food.

They are the sweetest ever.

I curled up in the golden yellow chair in the kitchen and read the first chapter, and Hubby and I had all kinds of fun coming up with great ideas to take the story. Then I settled down at the computer to write. It was so much fun! I was giggling and sipping coffee and giggling some more.

The sun came out shone brightly.

The boys played out side, laughing instead of fighting.

The kitchen was clean.

I still have my beautiful bouquet from S2.

Maybe Sunday's aren't so bad after all.