My dog has broken her tail. We don't know how, but Scott is hoping it was from being hit by a car and that she will be a little more careful on the road. All I know is that she is one sad dog without her wagger.

"But Maahum......."
Do I look like a butt mom to you?

She paused just a little too long thinking about that one. Hmmmmm....... a condition that is not likely to improve considering what I ate this week: fried egg rolls, fried onion rings, bbq ribs, pizza, 3 batches of wicked apple dumplings dredged in butter and laquered in Mountain Dew syrup. Oh mama!

The good news is that Scott has gained 8 pounds. The bad news is that so have I. Twist my arm, but I'm taking a few on for the team.

It seems a sturdy machine, and simple to use. The kids did jobs for the privilege of sewing little bags with decorative stitches in variegated threads. Already, it's been worth the extra I spent for those features. I even figured out the automatic buttonholer.

Scrubbing scum would not usually pull me into tears, but I'm so glad not to be in a crisis of gargantuan proportions. Oh! To be stable enough to help outside of my little padded box. Yes, it's actually a luxury to scrub someone else's tub.

It also makes me grateful not to be yea verily pregnant in July.

Mosquitoes bit through my yoga pants, but it was worth the conversation over the new neighbors' weeds. She needed to talk, and I needed to get away from my children a bit. A win/win if you don't count the itchy bum.

Scott and JA are camping with the scouts. I'm not sure Scott is going to make it. It would be a pity to have worked this long to keep him alive only to lose the man less than 2 miles from the house.

A better day, overall.

It is of little consolation that the potatoes were yummy when your husband asks for the kitchen scissors to cut the meat.

"I don't want a bleepity bleep dog in this hotel!!!!! Get that bleep a bleep a bleep dog out of here!!!!"

And he went on and on in front of the kids until I grabbed the arms of his wheelchair and firmly spoke into his face, "Jim DeMott!!! I hope you had a good day!"
"I did have a good day! I hope you had a good day, too!" he replied, taken back; still yelling as if he were mad but couldn't remember why.

If nothing else, taking children to the care center increases their vocabulary which we discussed all the way home.

"So...... where's the fun class?"
Well, this was the fun class.
"No. You said that you had a fun class. I want the fun class!"
You didn't have fun?
"Noohoo. We just learned about.......... sssSSSTuFF. That was not fun! Khuh!"

Hmmmm....... I could have sworn my class was the fun class. At least he ensured that I had a great laugh.

"Oh............ I remember the last time you came in here. Yes..........."
He was green.
"Yes, you were so sick. I remember............ Oh, I am so glad you are better. I knew you lived in Rexburg, but how could I find you to see? Oh, I am so glad.......... so glad."

It humbled my heart remembering just how awful that time had been. And to think how close Scott was to dying, and how many times since. Even more humbling was to realize that this waiter had worried and wondered, and was so genuinely grateful to see us again.

I'm so grateful that I wasn't there without Scott and telling our favorite waiter that Scott had died. It's easy to forget how lucky we are; how blessed. Seriously blessed.

"Macaroni, too?"
Yes, sweetheart.

So, I sat and was sad with her.

Someday, I will have to remind her of this situation where it wasn't working out, and we had to make a painful decision. It has dozens of applications: a dead end job, a bad friendship, an abusive relationship....... Tough choices that wake you up with worry and inevitably present themselves in every person's life. It's just part of growing up; realizing that in spite of all their charms, it's usually best to kill the roosters. And quickly, at that.

I'm pretty sure that a rooster that crows every minute after 4:45am is not likely to survive another night.

All four roosters are alive and well, living in the tree cave..... at least, for now. There was that incident with the neighbors' Australian Shepherd that makes me think the population will soon thin out. Still, they are absolutely charming, crowing out in the yard. I really hope they survive.

Men are expected to be able to take care of themselves, but a man that can feed a crowd is actually useful. It made me happy to see JA do it fairly well. His attention span was not quite up to grilling for 17, but he did most of the prep and a huge chunk of the cleanup. It's a start..... a good start.

Had M not thwacked JA on the head with an umbrella, she would never have felt the need to hide in the old pine trees. She wouldn't have decided to trim a few branches to make it a bit more comfortable, and then a few more. When she was done, there was a well concealed, two room tree cave big enough for the adults to stand and all the kids to play. Not that I condone umbrella flogging, but it did turn out rather well.

We turned out 3 of the 4 roosters into the yard. I thought they'd be goners within the hour, but our ferocious cats and the neighbor dogs didn't pay them much attention. I can't decide if it's more cruel than just killing them outright, but at least this way they have a chance. If they live, they can eat all the spiders, and keep the kids entertained. Honestly, I'm surprised at how fast a chicken can run.

We are enjoying a sleepover with the Washington cousins. Both E and C keep us in stitches. Hopefully, they are having an equally good time chasing livestock, watching Gilligan's Island, and competing in a popcorn stuffing contest.

"..... and then, Arlo took your Dad's and Milton's goat out to the desert, killed and butchered it. He told the boys it ran off, but he just gave the meat away. Grandpa Rhoades later said, "That was the best wild goat I'd ever tasted." I don't think the boys ever knew."

Perhaps, one of the reasons I enjoy old people is that they randomly slip out little confessions. Although, I suspect that it's not the first time she has told that story.

I am suspicious of the large, brown egg found in my coop by little neighbor girls who have mature Rhode Island Reds. My banties are not due to lay until late September and will always have smallish eggs. It was fun to consider that they might be laying already, though.

The summer has been spent so far running here and there; neglecting the yard and house. I prefer not to go anywhere this week until Friday. Friday is my 20th high school reunion and I am decidedly out of town.

Can you just see it? Dad cutting out well designed "Missing Dog" posters. Mom in tears. Sad son on the porch looking wantonly down the street. Dog comes running down the street. Kids squeal and cheer. Dog jumps all over. Mom cries. It could have been a rerun for a badly acted film, but it wasn't. It was my morning.

So, the day fleshed out with a small, country town parade, and big family BBQ. Tim brought fireworks and lit them in the driveway while Preya cowered in the van. An excellent day.

You know, my life is just oddly blessed and weird enough for me to wonder if there aren't cameras hidden everywhere. I can only imagine my life on film would be a warped mix of Hallmark drama, Cosby comedy and Survivor unpredictability.

There are two sides of me and they don't get along very well. There's my tough, gritty side that sits still in church and other long surgeries, and then my mushy side that shrinks at killing the roosters and bawls it's head off when the dog who is terrified of fireworks gets lost in Rigby on the 3rd of July.

What are you doing? I thought the little kids were playing with you guys.
"Awe, Mom. We're just talking....... you know, girl stuff."
Oh, you mean like shaving your armpits?

Her cousin blushed and accused M of sharing secrets. But I had only guessed and hit it right on the head. Teenage girls are not so different than they used to be.

It was a perfect day spent splashing, eating, and putting a puzzle together. My sister, K, hates it when people blog about her, so I won't. I won't embarrass her by saying how proud I am of her for finishing school, or how much fun she is to be around.