Because, if I could, I’d put Tracy’s up from yesterday about how my chickens remind her of junior high girls. She didn’t even say, ”Hello.” She jumped straight into, “Junior High girls. That’s what your chickens remind me of…you know where all the girls have to be touching each other and they’re constantly running this way and that and if one falls a little behind the WHOLE gaggle has to go back and retrieve them and how they get all flustered and worked up and start flappin’ an’ skippin’ around…” Oh, you are SO right, Friend! That’s exactly what they are. And then there’s the one or two guys that are everyone’s best friends and they hang around, too…offering advice and joining in on the gossip here and there, but playing the token “boy” role in the gang…and all the girls are secretly in love with him…but they’re all best friends, so no one can have him…until Brenda breaks code and starts dating Dylan behind Brandon’s back. Gang vocals. Love it.
I’m in a gang, by the way. I know you’re not surprised. On May 20, I’m singing at church but with 2 other teams as well as my own- so perhaps 9 singers…creating (and I quote) “Gang Vocals.” Apparently, Marie and I had the same reaction and emailed Troy at the same time: “Ooooooh. Gang Vocals. I always wanted to be in a gang.” This is exceedingly funny to me. We’re the same! (confession: I’m also a little geeked that Marie and I were thinking the same thing. I consider myself to be a Marie Groupie of sorts.) Always searching for a reason to wear a costume, I am excited to dig through my stash of bandanas for this gig. Gotta represent, you know.
I found some grapevine hanging in a tree this weekend. I pulled it down and made a wreath. And then I made Curt nail it to the Chicken Coop. I want this to be a friendly sort of farm. And if you lived out on a dirt road with renegade chickens roaming around and a grass up to your knees, you could have a grapevine wreath, too. And mosquitoes. They’re a little too friendly, if you ask me.
Thank you for all the love for Curt’s sister Stacy and husband Bill and the girls (all stinkin’ 4 of them). Love love love. You people are full of love and you’re wonderful. The liver/enzyme/seizure scare is over and Mamma and baby Ellie are home safe as of Tuesday evening. There is still a cloud of confusion/Nyquil-like-ness over Stace…and the best medical guess is that it’s a weird presentation of pre-ecclampsia that will get better with time. Right. Because she has time with 4 girls and a husband running around like…well, chickens. We’ll keep you posted.
And Rylie Girl, by the numbers, is officially 6 months old as of this Tuesday! The doctors don’t count it until the 21st, but DUDE. She’s been here for 24 weeks now. She is hysterical and drooling and a better traveler and smiley and grabby and slippery when wet. Her smile can absolutely kill you and her laugh, well, you’ve all heard her laugh. It’s infectious. She loves to ‘type’ while I’m typing- this looks more like scratching the pastry table that is my desk than actual typing, but it’s pretty funny. She puckers her little lips and gets to work. Basically, she’s awesome.
So, we haven’t played a game in awhile. Let’s.
You may get rid of any 3 states (not necessarily the people IN them, although that may certainly be part of your reasoning…do what you will…it’s a game). Who’s leaving the Union?
Delaware (Who lives in Delaware??? Do they have a downtown?)
Oklahoma (because it’s really just a dusty continuation of Texas anyway)
Indiana (but only if Notre Dame can move North)
Buenos weekend, people!
I’m off to pick up my sewing machine!!!