Apple picking- English style, Part 3

The last pictures......



Your shoes are REALLY wet! Why aren't you wearing your wellies?


Alright already. Can we please just go?



I was a little pushy back there trying to get you to leave but......
Hey Mom,
Here's the only flower in that little field back there and I picked it just for you!



Left to the beach or right and go home?
Hmmm, let me think.
**************************

We had a nice trip to the orchard.
Here is the one we visited. http://www.royalfruitfarms.co.uk/

You should find one nearby and visit too!

Apple picking- English style, Part 2

Okay, here's the exciting part.



We finally made it!



I can't wait to pick some apples!



C'mon lets go!



Apples schmapplez! What's the deal? ZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz



There's nothing like a tall friend for moments like this!

Apple picking- English style, Part 1

On the road again.


I just can't wait to get on the road again....If there's enough room for TWO cars!


Oh look! A pheasant! It's a good thing he ISN'T on the road!


Are we still on the road, Mom????

We had a pretty eventful day today with school tennis matches and 2 football games dragging the teenagers away. Most of the day was spent trying to get out of the house. I had planned to be on the road by 10am and home by 2. HA! That was just a dream and reality was slapping me on the wrist.(I'm talking about my watch, I tell you!)
We finally left the house at 11:30 for a loverly ride up to Norfolk, to the farm and orchard of the Queen. Yep, I said it. THE QUEEN. Since the Royal Family isn't as large as it used to be and they can only eat so many apples, plus EVERYBODY needs some extra cash theses days, they make a little profit from their PYO,(pick your own) orchard. So here are some pictures from our afternoon.

Enjoy!

Random Thoughts

As I was lying in bed this morning, I rolled over and saw the most beautiful face smiling back at me. She was asleep, but still smiling with the plumpest cheeks I've seen since my neice Erica was a little one. Gazing at the beautiful wonderfulness of this child, of whom is so large that she needs to move out of my bed SOONER than later, I was pulled into remembering about how she came to be and why did she have to come during the worst year of my life....
Last year we went to the states to visit our families and friends in California and Texas. Before that trip, I was ready to leave England behind without most of my family. I was so unhappy and had fallen into a rut of selfishness and blame. Mr had fallen into a rut of work, work, work. And when we saw him, which was briefly, he ate a quick meal with us, hardly had time to hang out or play with the children, and barely spoke to me.
We were drowning in unhappiness and sinking to the bottom fast. He didn't have time to take time off of work and even spent his weekends working. I was sick of being a single parent with a boarder. My plans were made and I was going to execute them as soon as I could. Then something happened. He finally was jolted from the "funk he was in". He caught wind of something about to happen and woke up to the fact that he was about to be a single parent also. Finally I would get my message across and he might actually understand what I was saying to him for months. He was furious and so was I. But most of all, I didn't see how much he truly loved me and also how much he was hurt by this all.
My dad had a heart attack in the middle of our woes. Mr went to Texas to help my mother during this time. While he was there, my dad had a stroke also. My poor mother was so overwhelmed and yet, there my right hand was, Mr, helping her as if she was HIS own mother. He cleaned her house, clearing out junk and clutter that was there for years and years. At least when my dad came home in a wheelchair,(which he didn't- praise the Lord!), there would be room for him to get around and mom wouldn't have to worry about cleaning the house.
Mr and my mom talked and talked about his and I marital woes and how his heart was pierced from my thoughts of jumping ship. He talked to my sister also about what was going on. They called me and talked. Boy was I sick of talking and hearing what my mom and sister had to say! I avoided talking to them some days and other days, I would listen to them drone on about how he felt about me and how hurt he was.
My plans changed and I decided to stay and work it out, cautiously. I knew how much of an OCD worker he is and that he is really INTO his work. He said he would try harder to leave his work at work and get home before the children go to bed. And he would try to be accessible at work, by phone, most of the time. (If you know about him and cell phones, then you know how I feel about him and cell phones!-nother story)
So he tried and I tried. Then we went to the US for a "vacation". We flew to California, stayed there for a week, picked up our old car and drove to Texas during a blood boiling, stifling heatwave with NO AIR CONDITIONING! I thought I was going to die. (Not joking either)
I spent time with my mother, talking and enjoying each others company. I loved her SO MUCH and did my best to let her know that. I didn't know that our visit there would be one of the last times I would see her.
We came home-back to England and began our week of time change adjusting, when we received a call that moms minor surgery had gone awry. She suffered a stroke and needed to come home. We went and had a few days with her before she went home to be with the Lord. Oh, such sadness. When I saw Mr crying at her funeral, it tore my heart. Then April began to cry when she saw him crying. I cried. Everybody cried and it was hard to regain our composure. He loved her so much. Almost as much as I did. Then I understood how much he loved me. And I cried.
So back to the baby in this story. The year 2009 was a hard year. I was in mourning and had just begun my YEAR of mourning when I found out that I was expecting. I was angry and of course wondering WHY? WHY NOW? God had to jolt me out of what could have been a serious bout of depression. Yep, the D-word. It happens and can happen to anyone. This jolt was like, for example, you are standing outside looking at the most beautiful sunset you have ever seen with it's gorgeous hues of radiant reds, oranges and whiffs of white, fluffy clouds surrounding it. You look around to admire the full panoramic beauty of it all when out of the corner of your eye you see something on your shoulder. It's white with swirly hues of gray in it. You crone your chin down and REALLY look at it and realize that it is the unthinkable. BIRD POOP! What? What? WHAT???????? You are inflammed and driven to anger in one quick second. See, now you are jolted back into reality and it really sucks sometimes. Anger, That's the word. I was angry for many months and when I finally got over it and told me family in Texas that I was expecting, it was March and I was due in May. But during those months of anger, I wasn't depressed! Wow, that sounds insane, but it's true. Sometimes when you're angry, you are moved to action. And that's what I did. I was a busy, angry woman, but I didn't take it out on my family. I started to blog more and come up with ideas and such. So God moved me and then made me sit down. For a long time. I had a c-section and was at the mercy of my family for nearly 2 months. When I got up again, I was still hurt, but driven to more action. For now, as I continue to recover, I can look back and see the grace that God covered me with for those months of "mourning". I was given new friends and a fabulous church family with whom we love and they love us. My marriage has recovered and my children are stronger from it all. But most of all, I still miss my mother, but we have a beautiful memory of her lying in our bed with the name of Joy.

Beef. It's what we had for dinner.........

I was busy washing and washing the pile of dishes that had congregated on the counter by the sink. They were there because my son has a lazy streak and I couldn't stand seeing dirty muffin pans waiting to be cleaned before they rusted away. Besides, I paid good money for them and want them to last until the children move away and then I'll get a REALLY good set for myself. (Wait, did I just say that?) Anywho, I HAD to get my kitchen cleaned for my own sanity.
So tonight was Taco Night and we had the usual taco meat with homemade seasoning, refried beans, Spanish rice, tomatoes, chopped spinach,avocado, cheese and salsa.
Since I was a-cleaning, I had the teenagers making the taco seasoning mix. Well, they aren't the greatest of cabinet searchers and kept asking for the Chili powder. THREE of them looked for it and wait, can you hear the answer? Neither of them found it. From a dark corner of the kitchen I hear,"Hey! Can I use Cayenne pepper instead of Chili powder?
"Are you trying to HURT us?" I blurt out.
I stroll over to the cabinet, move a few jars around and ta-da, here comes the Chili powder.
A while later, dinner is done and we enjoy a lovely meal. Easy, peasy, tacos and all.
Dessert for tonight. Nothing. We were filled charm of a plump and lovely baby playing on the floor.


Here is a picture of the after party.

Monday, Monday. La, la, la, la, la, la.

Ahhh, the end of a looong weekend and I am toast. Yep. Can you feel it? So much to do and so little of tired old me to do it. I thinketh that I am gonnaeth getteth a cupeth of teaeth. Okay, I must be talking like Winnie the Pooh (someone in my house calls him Winnie the Poop!), so confusing that there is no sanity.
Anyway, in my kitchen there is a floor heater. Why? Well, there is NO HEAT whatsoever in my kitchen so they lovingly installed a floor heater so our little toes wouldn't freeze off. On Saturday, we started to notice that there were wet spots on the grout between the tiles. We'd mop and it would soon appear again and we would blame Wyndon for spilling something and not cleaning it up. Well, it kept happening and we started to blame Elise for the wet socks that began to plague the laundry that day. Then it was wet again and we wondered if the dishwasher had gone leaky. So we mopped up the water one more time and went on with life.
SUNDAY- The floor was wet again. We got onto Wyndon and told him to QUIT IT with the spilling of water and not cleaning it up. He pleaded with us that it wasn't his fault and he was sick in bed- sick, throat hurting, feverishly ill, sick. I said SURE! You could have snuck down for a drink and spilled it, Dude. I have no compassion for fakers and stop eating that Tylenol like candy. You are not THAT sick!
Needless to say, he stayed home from church, still sick in bed. I stayed with him since the baby was congested and breathing like Darth Vader all night.
Sunday afternoon, Mr and the girls came home from church to a wet kitchen floor AGAIN.
We mopped and wiped and examined the dishwasher again for any signs of cracked pipes or something. Nope-it was clean and clear for the dishwasher. So Mr was lying on the floor looking around and under whatever he could see,(but you can't see anything because the floorboards are sealed at the bottom with silicone). I suggested that he dismantle the floor heater and see if it was coming out from there. So he did. I also suggested that he cut on the heater and maybe it would dry up the wet mess that kept oozing from underneath (Can you see the movie title??-"IT CAME FROM UNDERNEATH") He gently stated that someone could be electrocuted or I could possibly throw out the breaker and I'd be the one going out in the pouring rain to cut it back on. "UMMM, I guess not", I say and then go on to say, "Well it was a good idea." Mr cleared his throat as if he were saying "You really want to get rid of me, don't you?"
The dismantling begins and a yucky old water smell radiates from underneath and we were all wondering if the fridge had died and had spilled it's contents underneath the cabinets too.
Conclusion- For some reason, there is some kind of hose connected to the heater(??what in the world??)and it is leaking. PROFUSELY. The kitchen floor is really slick and wet. I have mopped till the cows have come home and slipped on that floor. Now it's time for THEM to fix it. I can see it now. "Ms Harris, could you empty all of those cabinets so we can tear them out and fix this pipe that is embedded underneath them???"
WHAT???????????????????????

I QUIT!

No-not blogging, I mean. Trying to get some rest at night. You know that "S" word. Sleeping. It's approximately 4:17am and I am awake. I tried so hard to go back to sleep several times but there was no hope for me. Too much action in my room.(And no-not THAT kind! This is a clean blog if I can say so myself!)

It all started with a reeally sleepy baby who didn't want to stay asleep for long. I put her to bed in my bed, surrounded by a barrier of pillows for her "not rolling around yet" safety. She is a very "scentsitive" baby, meaning she really likes the smell of mommy right next to her. So my mistake was........ drum roll please.........that I put a DADDY pillow in front of her!! Well that was the unjust punishment for an innocent child. You know, to wake up and smell, gasp, A-MAN! And not just any man, I say. That MAN who lets me cry when I want my mommy, MAN. OH NO! So, after I made this grave mistake, I moseyed downstairs to partake of the bowl of spaghetti that was waiting for me which I was so looking forward to enjoying. Five bites into this perfectly wonderful bowl of pasta, I heard the call. "WAAAAAAHHHHHHH, WAHHHHHHH, WAHHHHHHHHHHH!" She was cranking up the Gatling gun of a cry because she was missing the love of he life and smelled, "The Man" instead of me. Okay then- give up the food mama and go save your child!
I hesitantly bounded up the stairs to a face full of tears and some red, juicy eyes looking around for her mama. At this point, I pat her bunny,(her bottom) and whisper "Hush, hush, shhhhhhhh, shhhhhhhhhhh, calm down sweetie", while going through what I call "The Mental Checklist for Mothers"(that's another subject all together).
It was about this time that I realized she wasn't going back to sleep without a sip, so I began to nurse her and "The Man" appears offering to bring up my dinner so I can finish it while it's warm. "Of course", I answer and he whisks away to bring up my beloved late dinner accompanied by a precious glass of Ginger Ale. I quickly finish my din, lay down the dinner offender and run to get in the shower while I still have a chance. I'm just a-showering away when I hear it. No- I'm not hearing this. Oh yes I AM! She is at it again. WHAAAAAAA! Alrighty then. Now I am losing patience and do you know what I did???? I kept on showering and finished my relaxing moment because I knew that she was safe in bed. I'm not sure what the neighbors thought, or if they even heard her, but I didn't care because I was having "A Zen Moment". (Alright, I did feel guilty, but I had to take a shower before I got in the bed.) By the time I got out and dressed, "HE" was there. She still wasn't Kosher with him, so I grabbed her up and lay down with her to see what her need was. Okay then- fresh diaper you need? You got it! She was freshly changed and lying on the bed with those big, red eyes that make you want to bawl with her. Mr was giggling and sitting on the recliner across the room when I decided to ask him, "What is so funny?" He says, "I gave her a new nickname-Baldylocks!" I give him a mean frown, all while laughing at the same time. Hey, shhhhhhh! She's falling asleep! Oh my goodness! Her eyes are closed! It's a miracle that I didn't even have to pray about!

Fast forward to an hour ago. I'm asleep and dreaming about my friend Charmaine owning an international grocery store where each aisle contains food from a different country and each day they have different bakery items from all over the world. I was just about to lay down on some "Senorita Bread" from this Filipino bakery called "Starbread", when I hear laughter. Then I hear laughter again and the bed starts to move in unison with this laughter. When I begin to open my eyes from my fantasy of Senorita bread, I feel the squirming of baby, indicating that her tummy was empty and needed to be filled again. So on my left is contender #1- "Mr. Laughing In My Sleep while shaking the bed." In corner #2- is the, "I Need A Drink Or I WILL Wake Up And Let The Whole House Know That YOU Didn't Feed Me!", person.

I quickly laid my hand down in the vicinity of his head to rub it and am prickled by his freshly barbered locks or scalp or whatever you want to call it.
Ouch! He mumbles something about being funny and "I'm sorry", then quickly dozes off again. I roll over to feed wiggly and she dozes off also. I begin to float again into La La land when I hear the roaring sound of a Harley engine in my bedroom. It's HIM again! Blah, blah, blah! Good grief! Well, I'll be! I get up and go to the bathroom where I step on something oily on the floor. HE must have dripped some muscle rub and didn't wipe it up! Grumpily, I lay a bathroom rug down over the spot because someone could possibly slip on it and fall and hit their head on the toilet bowl. (Safety first!) Wiping off my feet with a washcloth, and climbing back into bed for another try, I wiggle in between the two offenders. Ahhh, this isn't too bad and it's still warm right here. La La land, here I come! Three minutes later, that Harley was back again with a vengeance. It was coming after me with all of the glory of a man on a safari hunting for lions! I poked the offender and he mumbled something again. Oh silence, you are my friend! Ahhhhhhhhh. Sweet rest, come quickly.(Can you hear the harp playing in the background?) I did, but only for a split second and then that darn blasted Harley came back and I jumped out of bed and stared at them. The Wiggler and the Harley. Both sleeping peacefully and looking so comfortable together.
And then I said, "I QUIT!"