John 12:12=24

Yesterday at church Seth was sitting close by my side, just where I like him to be.  I gave him a pen and paper to give him something to do and it soon became apparent to me that his mind was occupied with, not religious matters, but mathematics.  He was busy writing a story during the sermon and this is what it said:

The lazy Dog by Seth

Captr One 

Once thar was a dog the dog was rily smart.  The dog new what 100 + 100 is and 200 + 200 is but one day the dog didint no what something was and it was 100 + 800 and he thinnked and thinnked but he couldn’t do it so he ascked the techer.  The techer didn’t now so the techer thincked and thincked and the techer got it and it was 900.  

Chapter 2

The techer was smorter then the dog the techer new wat 100-15 was it was 85.

That was all he was able to get done during the sermon.  It was quite a laborious task for him.  He whispered a couple of questions to me when he needed some help with it.  One question was “How do you spell ‘what'”(he didn’t care about the other words) and the other was “What is 100 minus 15?”

He informed me that it will be 90 chapters long.  To which I replied, “90-2=88”

Then he told me that he knew what 12 plus 12 was.  He told me this after staring at the sermon text for a while.


how can I keep from bragging?


So I have this really talented feline who has a passion for ice skating.  She’s out there practicing constantly and so I thought I would take a few photos of her when I was letting the chickens out the other day.  She is completely self-taught!


The pictures just do not do her credit.  She was doing a layback spin JUST before I took this one.  Lately, she spends most of her time working on her toughest skill, which is a triple axel followed immediately by a double toe loop.  I would have taken a video but I didn’t know how to do it. Plus I was standing stock stiff in shock.


When she saw I was taking pictures she ran off the ice and up a tree.

She is very shy.


ink everywhere

I came out of my room this morning, wrapping myself up in my soft red robe.  It was 6:20 and the schoolbus would be arriving within the next 15 minutes or so.  I found Grace on the couch, finishing up her homework with her Madrigal dress next to her ready to take to school for a performance.  “Did you eat anything yet?” I asked.  “No.”  I handed her an apple.  Ethan needed me to write a check for a school skiing trip and I gave David a kiss on the cheek as he ate the rest of his breakfast.  Very soon this peaceful moment would be over.

David recently found the TV series, “Top Shot” on Netflix and has been watching it every chance he gets.  It has inspired him.  In case you haven’t seen it, it’s a competition type show with a group of people trying to be “top shot”…they spend all their time shooting guns and arrows at targets.  In every episode, someone has to leave the show so that eventually there is only ONE winner…..the TOP SHOT.

David won’t be watching it today.

David will be having a talk with Mom and Dad.

The upstairs was out of toilet paper.  Sarah needed some.  The bus still hadn’t arrived for the teenagers.  After helping Sarah I went back downstairs just in time to find THICK, DARK BLUE, BALL POINT PEN INK shoot out of David’s hand.  It could have been much much worse.  He can thank his lucky stars that it miraculously DID NOT go on the leather couch or the rug.  Instead, it was dribbled all over the floor and the kitchen island.

Acting quickly, while screeching, I grabbed paper towels.  Those of you with experience will know that ink isn’t the most pleasant of liquids to clean up.  Raw egg is bad… is far worse.  At first wipe, the ink drop will turn into a horrifying ink smear.  Turning the paper towel to a white side and wiping yet again, it will then turn it into a lighter blue smear.  And thus the action is repeated, to be finished up with a shake of BAR KEEPERS FRIEND, and a prayer offered up in gratitude that THAT ink drop came off the wooden floor/island.  Then, off to clean up the next one.

My finger tips are still currently stained a pale, deathly blue.

“All that pen wanted was to be turned into a book.” said Grace, looking on from the door.

“If only David felt the same way.”  I replied.

So, how did this happen?  After many confusing moments and much questioning, I finally figured it out.


He’s been modifying pens.

To do this, he must take a perfectly good ball point pen and take it all apart, causing it to never more be useful as a pen.  But wait!  It will soon be even BETTER than a pen!  For then, he wraps a rubber band with duck tape around the pen.  It is now a shooting device.

Hmmmmmmmmmmm, What to shoot?  THE INK CARTRIDGE that used to be inside the pen, of course!  After all, it is thin and has a sharp point on the end, just like an ARROW!!!!  Genius.

What David learned today was that the ink cartridge MAY explode as you shoot it!

“I’ll have to put glue on the end next time” I heard him say to himself as he helped clean up the ink.

“David I do not want you ruining any more of our pens!”

The bus came.  The bus went.  Goodbye E, Goodbye Grace, Goodbye David.  Deep breath.  Now it was time to get the elementary kids ready for THEIR bus.

I went downstairs to wake up the boys, amazed that they slept though the excitement.  Seth did say he had heard me say something.  “What did I say?” I asked expectantly.  “You said, ‘I’m so sorry I did that.'”  “THAT. is NOT what I said,” I replied.  (and David didn’t say it, either)  He must have been dreaming.

The “TOP SHOT” story isn’t over yet….because guess what I discovered downstairs?  Uh oh.



Not wanting to jump to rash conclusions, I ran to my phone to text Ethan.  “Ask David if he took a ceiling tile and turned it into a target.”

(after a minute or two)

“Yes. He did.”

“I don’t think we should let him watch Top Shot anymore.”


I also found the workings of a modified Nerf gun in progress on his dresser.  The baggie to the left of the gun is filled with parts that used to be INSIDE the gun.


This is what the inside of our kitchen trash currently looks like.

My child is a creative, busy, bright, single minded,  scientist-type and I’m forever being impressed, delighted, and amused over his endless projects and interests.

But he still has to learn his limits.

magical fruit


How do you know it’s true love?

When your husband mentions you in every conversation, and in every note.


About those beans.

It’s true.

I’ve made a project of baked beans and we are all suffering for it.

Yesterday the kids were sitting at the counter eating breakfast when Seth let one fly.

“Seth, you’re STINKY” Sarah said.  He was highly offensive, and highly offended by her insult.

Later on that morning I myself was unfortunately sitting next to Seth, we were reading together, and he let another one fly.

The smell….was terrible.  I had to fan the air before my nose while listening to his reading.

It was at that moment that I realized that our bean day HAD to be on Fridays to save the world.  It’s all well and fine for me, I have no place to go, but my husband and my children have to be out there in the public all day long.  I must save the public and protect the innocent.

About Rich.  The morning after our bean dinner he was busy getting dressed for work when he woke me up with loud melodious toots.  I began the day shaking the bed with laughter… was a wonderful way to wake up….me laughing and him making sarcastic remarks about beans.


I went through all my cookbooks and photocopied every baked bean recipe I could find.

“Boston Baked beans” (Julia Child recipe)

“Molasses Baked beans”

“Molasses and Rum baked beans”

“Baked beans”

“Best Baked beans EVER” (this is the only recipe I took which uses already cooked and canned beans, but it contains a grated raw potato and a bake for 2 hours, which fascinated me)

“Baked beans with Tomatoes”

“Navy Bean and Apple Casserole”

“Old Fashioned Baked Beans” (I made these on Monday)

and lastly, another “Baked Beans” (Tasha Tudor recipe, the only one with crumbled sausage in it.)

I put all the recipes in a folder.


You have to sort the beans just in case something besides a perfect dried bean got in the bag…I’ve only found one stone so far…you also pick out any bad beans.

It takes a very long time to bake beans and I can understand why many years ago it was the housewife’s dinner of choice on washing days.  You can simply put the bean pot on the fire with minimal fuss and let them bake all deliciously sweet, caramelized, and soft.  I also learned that the Puritan women would put them to baking on Saturday night so that they could be eaten on Sunday without breaking their rule of “no working on Sunday.”


I told my Mom about my project and she approved of it.  She wrote to me, “Dad’s Grandma W made Great Northern baked beans with white sugar very plain, with salt pork on top, and your dad liked them.  Uncle Arthur grew the beans.  They ate them with macaroni and cheese.  Dad wishes he had the recipe.  I remember having the beans after we were married, when Uncle Arthur came to Grandma and Grandpa B’s house for the winter months.  Grandma W also lived there, but she died a few weeks after you were born.  I think I’ve been trying to make them like that taste memory all these years.”




Goodness, how delicious!

The next day I make a sandwich for lunch with leftover beans.  I toast some rye bread and add a thick layer of reheated baked beans, plus a drizzle of molasses.

I have a huge favor to ask of you, dear reader.  Search your mind, search your cookbooks, call your grandma/grandpa or your mom/dad or your aunt/uncle, FIND ME A RECIPE.  I want all the baked bean recipes.  

Please share, I would be so grateful and happy to add it to my baked bean cookbook!

(even if you have no recipe for me you can still say hello in the comment section, it’s more fun that way.)  hugs

we had a situation

It all began on Saturday.  Rich and I drove in separate vehicles to the church to pick up a whole bunch of kids and their luggage from a week of camp.  After he greeted me and gave me a hug, Jacob told me that he and the older kids were going to get Chinese food with their friend Michael on the way home, so I gave him thirty dollars.  Rich left with his group of kids and I left with Seth and Sarah, not really knowing who was riding with Rich or Michael. It was past lunchtime and we were all very hungry.  I stopped at McDonald’s with my two kids, but Rich drove straight home with his.

I pulled into the driveway at home, went in the house, and discovered Ethan all distraught.  “There wasn’t anything to eat”.  I had assumed that he was part of the group going to the Chinese buffet.  He loved Chinese food but missed out because somehow he wasn’t told the plan.  I made him some elbow noodles and meat sauce but it just wasn’t the same.  He missed out on Chinese food and was never going to get over it.  “Oh E, I’ll take you to Chinese, just the two of us.”  I was willing to say anything to encourage him, but I didn’t mean that I would take him anytime soon.  Just that I would take him….eventually.

Soon everyone was fed and Chinese food was forgotten.

Or so I thought.

Yesterday, as typical on summer Mondays, I took Grace, Dave, Caleb, Seth, and Sarah to the movies, leaving Michael and the teenagers at home.  I had a lot to do so I left Grace with the little kids at the theater while I shopped at Target.  After the movie we stopped at Costco.  By the time we arrived home the whole back of my SUV was full of bags and food and I was tired.

I discovered all the teens sleeping on the couches in the living room but I took no pity on them and woke them up so they could unload the groceries.

To my surprise, they happily woke up because they said “We are going to the mall and getting Chinese food for lunch.”

“Oh no, you’re not!  I just gave you thirty dollars on Saturday!  And I just bought a bunch of food while I was out that you can have for lunch.”

They wouldn’t hear of it.  We went back and forth with our debate and meanwhile I was disappointed to come to the realization that my children are spoiled rotten.

Ethan especially wanted the Chinese food.  “Mom, you said I could go!”  He was still feeling left out from Saturday but the truth is, I never said WHEN he could go and I never said I would foot the bill for anyone else but Ethan.  I wasn’t about to give them anymore money.

Jacob put his shoes on and got his wallet.  He had money saved that he was supposed to be using for college.  “I’m going.  I’ll just pay for it with my savings.”

“Oh no, you’re not!”

The other point I made was that next week we would be leaving for family vacation and eating out all the time.  So in the meantime we were going to “stay home and be satisfied with common foods like peanut butter sandwiches.”

They hated peanut butter sandwiches.  They won’t eat them.

Yet another point was  “Jacob, you needed me to take you to college tomorrow, I don’t want you going to go to the city two days in a row.  You’re exhausted from camp and need to rest.”

But they still wouldn’t yield.

It was then that I knew I wasn’t dealing with spoiled rotten teens. I was dealing with over-tired, HUNGRY teens who had the stubbornness of both their mother and their father.

So I called Rich at work.  We had a parenting situation that needed both Mom and Dad to solve.  He promised to call right back when he had a minute to spare.

We were all in the living room:  Michael (who was to drive them to the mall and didn’t care either way, but did want to buy sandals), Ethan (lying on his back with his arm dramatically over his forehead), Emily (who was using her Starbucks gift card in the debates) and Jacob (on the verge of tears).

Rich returned my call.  I put him on speaker and placed the phone next to me on the arm of the couch.  He received an earful as everyone stated their case.  Being the wise and sensible man he was, he quickly decided in my favor.

“Your mom is right.  I want you children to stay home and rest today.  Jacob, if you don’t toughen up I’ll give you something to do to toughen you up.  Ethan, I want you to get in the kitchen and find something you DO want to eat, and make enough for everyone.

“Now, I really have to go.  I want to finish things up here at work so I can take a break and go eat Chinese food for lunch.”

(evil laughter from Mike and the parents)

Well, well, well.  I had “won” the great Chinese food debate against my teenagers.  I was feeling victorious but also sort of mean…..I love giving them anything they want….so when I DO have to put my foot down, I feel bad.  (yes, I am a feeler, it’s a blessing and a curse).  The poor children would have to forgo Chinese food, although we did have chicken patties in the freezer that they could shake soy sauce on.   This idea of mine was not met with approval, however.

I took my phone off the arm of the couch and just as I began to get up to put away the groceries Mike said, “The Schwan’s truck is here.”  He could see it pull in the driveway through the window.

Instantly, I started to scream because I knew they sold delicious Chinese food meal kits.  “Oh my word!!!   I cannot believe this!!  This is all the Lord’s doing.  You better get down on your knees and humble yourselves in gratitude!”

I opened the door to greet the man.  He never had such a warm welcome.  I turned to make sure the kids were with me to order their beloved Chinese foods from the catalog and saw Ethan kneeling in the kitchen with his arms raised to Jesus in grateful praise.

We had chicken lo mien and shrimp rolls for lunch.

the fun in life: sauce for a dull day

A sense of humor is more valuable for a busy woman than all the latest inventions for making housekeeping easy.  The patent dish-washer, the self-feeding and self-shaking range, the washing-machine, the bread-mixer and the egg beater all put together will not help “mother” through Saturday morning so well as the ability to laugh long and heartily.

Unfortunately, there is no school where this accomplishment can be learned.  The giggling girl is not so sure to grow up a laughing woman.  She may regard herself and her own affairs with a portentous seriousness.  Egotism is fatal to a true sense of humor.  So is a lack of imagination.  So is that morbid conscientiousness which is our least desirable inheritance from Puritanism.

That family is fortunate indeed where the mother is first to see a joke and to lead the mirth.  In too many homes her sole share in merriment is her dismal “I’m sure I don’t see what you’re laughing about!”  The mother, an invalid for years, who could answer an inquiry about her health with a quizzical smile and a quick “Sick abed, and worse up!” was not a burden but a joy to the children who found her room “the jolliest place in the house.”

A nonsense rhyme, a droll conundrum, a lively repartee, a story of misadventure may all serve as sauce for a dull day.  The appetite for fun may be coaxed to grow by what it feeds on, until the mature woman, laden with responsibilities, can smile at her own small trials and help others to follow her example.  She will learn first not to cry over spilt milk, and later will master an even more useful accomplishment, and will laugh over it.

Youths Companion, 1903

We laugh a lot at our house.  I mean, honestly, there are gloomy times as well like just yesterday when they (not I) decided upon the idea of going to Subway for lunch after church…ordering subs for 11 people and overtaxing the employees can put a damper on any joyous attitude.

However, in general, we are constantly laughing over things…like, for instance, the funny things that the little ones say.  Yesterday Sarah was riding in the backseat with her brothers.  They were playing with toy animals when we overheard her little voice saying pleadingly, “Will you please give my ear a little nibble?”

We read humorous stories from the latest Reader’s Digest out loud on the way to church.

We love watching funny movies.

Sparing back and forth with my husband…we get ourselves laughing and happy to be together.  Like last week when I had to use the bathroom twice in the first half hour of church…as I pressed myself past him during a song he said sarcastically, “What did you do, drink a gallon of water before church today?”

I make up funny songs and sing them to the kids…like this morning when Sarah was trying so hard to look sad because she hasn’t seen a baby calf and I sang, “Sarah looks sad but her Mother think she’s funny!”

After the initial shock, we even laughed about the applesauce.

“Sauce for a Dull Day”

The other day, Seth wanted some applesauce so he brought me a new plastic tub of it from the pantry.  I was busy making dinner with several children around me underfoot.   “Seth, we already have one open, go put that back.” I told him rather impatiently, only to hear a loud crash when he went to do it.

“What was that?” I cried as I left my dinner preparations to walk to the pantry.  I met Seth on his way out with a very messy jar of opened sauce.  “What did you do?”

“I threw it in the air and didn’t catch it,” he explained with no remorse.

There was applesauce across the floor, into the cat food dish,  and on the front of the freezer.  A couple of days later I happened to look up and there was some dried to the ceiling, too.

Emily helped me make him clean it up, I was silently seething, but by the time we got done with the mess I had found my sense of humor again.

“Now, what was I doing before my son decided to throw applesauce into the air?”  I asked, as Emily pretended to throw her own imaginary jar of it, sky high.  We laughed together at our crazy little boy who is so impulsive.  Later on when Rich was home, I took Seth to him and said, “Seth, tell Dad what you learned today.  About applesauce.”

“I learned not to throw applesauce too high or it will ‘splode.”

(six words too long of an answer)

I believe in happy people, happy Christians…joyful hearts…giggling in church…life is hard and dreadful at times, so we need to laugh as much as we can…it’s the best medicine in life!


eggs in bike

I put the morning’s egg collection in Sarah’s bike while she played and I gathered rocks to surround a flower bed down by the woods near the long pond.  (thinking of Aunt Carol as I did so).


This is what the baby toads look like now.  Growing so fast, they spend their days swimming.


Violets as delicate as purple tissue paper.


Strawberry blossom.


More violets…our property is overrun by them, to my delight.


We decided to go for a little walk with Dave, who was home from school with a stomach ache.  While Sarah hesitated on the other side of our makeshift bridge, David dissevered a baby lizard in the water (unphotographable) and……………


a small snapping turtle!


He picked it up carefully by the tail.  It’s little arms and legs spun around and around in fierce anger.  His neck stretched out so that he could face his foe:


Oh he wanted a piece of Dave so bad.  David left for home with his prize while Sarah and I continued on our walk.


I wanted to see the violet patch in the field by the edge of the forest.  There were thousands of them blooming all at once.



There were also a great number of bright dandelions, fully opened with nice thick stems.  I taught Sarah how to make a dandelion chain with them and she had no trouble making me a wreath for my hair, as I made one for her, too.

sarah dandelion


You can see that she was smelling them..her little nose is yellow.  I tucked an apple blossom into her wreath, and some violets, too.  She looked so pretty.


When we got back home, Sarah wanted to see Dave’s turtle so bad.  Dave had put it in a bucket by the pond so we ran down to look inside.  It was gone, completely gone, David’s head turned this way and that in disbelief.  When we told Jacob later on he spoke with experience, “Oh snapping turtles always escape from buckets, every turtle I ever put in a bucket got out.  You can’t keep them unless you put a lid over it.”  And we wondered.  How can a turtle climb out of a bucket??  And now that snapper is no doubt in the pond waiting to bite off the toes of my children this summer as they swim.

There was a box on the porch from a friend…with beautiful fiesta dinner plates contained inside!  And an encouraging note and card:  thank you Jami, from the bottom of my heart.  God bless you.


ex library books…beautiful books…library bindings, hard covers, oldish copies of good, wholesome, living stories for my own collection of the best books for my children and someday grandchildren.  all for a song at the thrift store.  TWO DOLLARS!


Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs, by Tomie DePaola

Such a heart warming, sentimental story that David was very touched by that day he was on the couch with the stomach ache and I made him read all the books.


A wonderful story:  Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by Steig



“because it might make life hard for a hen”

Happy Monday, my friends!  Hope you have a great day with lots of belly laughs.

We love to laugh
Loud and long and clear
We love to laugh
So everybody can hear

The more you laugh
The more you fill with glee
And the more the glee
The more we’re a merrier we. 

(Mary Poppins song lyric)


laughing all through mother’s day


Hundreds of dewdrops to greet the dawn,
Hundreds of bees in the purple clover,
Hundreds of butterflies on the lawn,
But only one mother the wide world over.
~George Cooper

“I wish you were here so you could make pancakes for us,” I teased my Mom yesterday morning when I called her.

“Guess what I’m doing right now?” she replied,  “Making pancakes for Isaac!  Did you know he came out?”  We laughed, and I knew she was having a great mother’s day already because she got to cook breakfast for one of her boys (she has three of them, and two girls–one of whom is me).  We had a nice little chat talking of the children and the gardens and then hung up so she could go eat some pancakes with Isaac.  I don’t get to see my Mom as much as I would like, but I think of her constantly, especially while I am busy in the kitchen, or in the garden planting peas and flowers.



We went to church yesterday morning and had a great service listening to Wally give a missions presentation and then Gary preach the Word.  After church I said, “Since it’s Mother’s Day, all I want is one nice picture with you children.”  Rich happily agreed to take the photo in front of a very cool black car that he and the boys loved……. and you would think I would have learned by now that what I end up is not quite what I was hoping for or picturing in my mind.


This was pretty good, however we are all missing our feet…..but it was hot and we left to get some lunch.  Everyone was hungry and everyone had an opinion about where we should go.  The Chinese Buffet?  Crackerbarrel?  Again I brought up Mother’s Day so I could stay out of it.  I would sit and just wait to see where Rich (who was silent through the discussions by the children) would take me, the mother of his precious, well-taken care of children.


I held my breath as we pulled gently into…..MCDONALDS.

“Rich you’re just trying to make me scream but I’m not going to.”

“What??  They have a really great burger here that I loved.  I wanted you to try it.” (laughing)

“Right, because I eat carbs!” (NOT screaming)

Lots of laughter ensued as he had the audacity to park the car.  Roll with it, I decided, roll with it with humor.  Then I realized, wait… no drive thru?

“We get to go in?”  Now I became slightly sarcastic.   “It’s Mother’s Day so we get to go IN to eat, children!”

You have to understand as a family of nine, we rarely eat inside of any fast food place.  And if we do, it’s usually Wendy’s……not mcdonald’s.  Also understand that we have a Mcdonalds in our hometown so I am there several times a week to get something for one or two of the children as we rush off to go to sports events and such.  It’s “old hat” that place, basically one step up from going back home to eat leftovers from the fridge.

Yesterday we had an extra kid with us, so we were a family of 10.  The sun was shining, the sun was hot, and we all were fooling around as we trooped inside……. MCDONALDS….was this a dream?   🙂


Turns out McDonalds is pretty awesome for a Mother’s Day luncheon because… one is there!

We spent 72 dollars on food!  Rich almost died and I laugh when I remember what his face looked like as he studied the receipt to make sure it was right.


I sat across from Sarah and Rich, Grace was down sitting in a booth with David and Caleb.  Jacob and Ethan were sitting with Zac.


Meanwhile, Mr. Highly Independent sat away from us, over at his own table.  He sat there the whole time, working away at eating his lunch and paying no attention to us.  Rich and I kept saying to each other, “Look at Seth.  He’s so so cute.”

Poor Rich was the last to get settled and eat, but had to get up yet again to get himself some ketchup for his fries.  Jacob, who was already eating away at his nuggets and is 18 years old, asked his Dad to get him some ketchup to which Rich replied impatiently, “GET IT YOURSELF!”  He was feeling a bit frazzled.

The soda and food started kicking in.  I ate my burger while carefully peeling off the bun as I went along.  Soon I was left with a box of bun bits.  “Does anyone want the rest of my burger?”  I asked, just to be funny.  Rich carefully selected a piece and threw it behind him to hit one of the boys.  He did this several times.


Grace took this selfie of us.  I was busy straining and trying to open Sarah’s toy.

“Okay, times up, let’s go!”  Rich announced after most of us were done eating.  “The bus is here!” Jacob replied, which caused all the school kids to get up, throw away their garbage and hustle out to the car (bus).

On the way home Rich said something that accidentally hurt Ethan’s feelings and Jacob said, “Don’t worry, E, I know what you can do to get back at him……”

“Ask him to get you ketchup!”  I interrupted, and we all laughed again.

(Incidentally, I cannot handle caffeine lately.  I drank a very small bottle of coke a week or so ago at about 7:30 pm and I didn’t sleep that night until 2.  Then, yesterday I drank half of my small diet coke and got all nervous and jittery from it.  So now I’ve decided I won’t drink it anymore and I will only drink half-caf coffee.)

Well, we got home and I asked Rich if he could take one more picture of me and the kids and this time to please not cut the feet off.

So I get this:


Seriously!  I got my phone back and there were about 35 pictures of just our legs and then this one:


We went in the house…home, finally home…it was like 2 at this point.  Rich and I crashed into bed not meaning to actually take a nap, but we did and it was glorious.

When we got up we had to take the boys to the mall.



Jacob is going with Emily, who is a Jr.  (it’s the JR prom, our school doesn’t have a SR prom)

Ethan is going single.  Oh they are going to be so handsome in their tuxes.  Stay tuned!


Leaving you with this picture that Sarah drew me.

“It’s you and me, Mom!”

Happy Mother’s Day!

jacob and emily got engaged again! (*not really*)


Ah, young love in the springtime, is there anything better?

We were all outside and I was reading my book when Emily ran up to me all excited.   Jacob proposed to her!  This is his second proposal.  The first one took place at the mall with a peach ring candy!


Don’t you agree that this ring is much better than a peach ring (which Emily ate)?

Jacob found it embedded in the mud outside on the lawn!  Hard to believe, right?

It’s beautiful silver, heavy and well made, with a gentle rust design.  Quite artsy.

I congratulated her over and over.


While Jacob looked on, sheepishly.

Oh no, a sneak attack!


Brothers are so disrespectful when it comes to ultra-romantic moments!


Admiring their ring.


Silly kids.