We don't own them ALL

On Sunday morning after a long long day of roping and no napping (for the baby and Scott) we were contemplating being late for church or not go at all.



When an ox was thrown in the mire that wasn't even ours. Scott got a call that our cows were out. He did a head count.

Twice.

All were there.



But then he realized that some of our friends went home in a fuzzy state of mind and MIGHT of not locked the gates tight. Contrary to popular belief, not all cows that are out belong to the Scarbrough family. Just sometimes.



He and the kids decided to get some saddle time in and help a friend out and skip church. Who wouldn't want to gather cows instead of sitting in a pew (me! that is who) and so I went to pay tithing and help a friend out at church while he and the kids stayed home to help another friend out.



As I was coming back from church I thought "Service is never convenient" Boy is that true ,bit some times it might be better than listening to fast and testimony meeting :)

I ask: "Free baby-sitting or... a Play date"

I am a loner. I am ok with living (gasp) 3 miles from town- if you can call it town when it has no stop lights, chain fast food places or big box stores. I AM ok. ( thank you for asking)

But my kids?

dYING.

I am sure they see living on the homestead as a prison sentence. Especially when we turned off the tv for the summer, and it is lingering, hanging indefinitely in the air- an unmade decision. No tv for our house.

But I digress, The play date/day care thing.

My son has never met a stranger, the world is his playgroup.

And so everyday I get asked the same questions "mom can so an so come over to play on such and such day?" and everyday I want to say the same thing "NO! What am I, a free baby sitter?" because after having some little darlings from 8 to 4 sharing what I know, imparting knowledge they don't want, I am through with my civic duty for the day. I think. But still...

I don't want my kids to be lonely... or fight each other too much.

I don't like the idea of a play dates- cleaning dates- bring them on (maybe). Have your mom show up with your friend and clean my house, you bet. But I don't know anyone psycho enough to do that, and really? Never mind, I don't want them there either. I want to clean, and cook and workout and yell at no one who is listening "why I am the only one cleaning but not the one who made this mess !!!" in peace.

Oh, yea, back on track...

So when your are not friends with your kid's friend's moms and they don't come over to chat and bring their kid, is it

free babysitting

or really a play date?

Cause my kids need to play with others, but I need to be sane too.

America? what do you think?

Just Call me Peaches

This weekend was going to be my weekend. I was going to do two boxes of peaches. What ever it is that a holly home maker is to do with two boxes of peaches before they spoil.

Yea, not so much. Peach pancakes were made with help from Scott, Got the dishes done, got the vaccum cleaned out... and then a voice calls from the yard "Hey, so are you ready to go roping?"


you could hear the silence and then the wheels in my head turning as I thought of what to say...

Really? Did you ask me? I don't remember this converstaion. I remember YOU saying that you could not do my honeydos because you were running a roping, ME on the other hand, I was going to do peaches...

I think when I said "I do", I really meant, "you can speak for me and sign both of us up to do work and when you say I am going to do something you mean the both of us and I should know this by now, 11 years later and not even be shocked."

I went. Books were to open at noon...

At one point I bet Scott over the PA that if he won that he could cut up all the peaches at the house. He missed the next two runs to win it all.

Humm,

on purpose?

I don't know.

But later, he claimed that I must have meant that he would cut them if he caught only Raymond's steer and OF Course he didn't mean to do that.... I just jinks him, I think. I shouldn't have said it, but I tried to talk to winner, Steve into cutting them up. Funny, he wouldn't do it either.

We finally ate dinner at 8 that night and we only had 55 teams all day.. Go figure. My own fault for staying , and letting them all drag it out like little boys having a fun day.

Whatever, peaches tonght I guess.

Weekend Interrupted

This weekend I was going to get up and do some house chores; so I started with a little girl at 6:30. After homemade peach pancakes, I started in on the laundry. I jumped to the dishes, the trash and cleaning out the vaccum cleaner. Doesnt' this all sound so fun?

About 10 Scott asked me if Iw asready to go to the roping....

I wasn't aware that I was going; wait, let me check my todo list...

Nope, Not there.

But I went. and waited. and waited. And at 2 :15, I went home. The roping, which books were supposed to enter at noon, had one entry by then! There was a horse sale next door and....?


I don't know what happened. But I put the baby down finally for a nap and Scott is still waiting.

She was early; I am late

So, Sue me; I am getting to this the day after. Happy Happy birthday Kelsey dear, Happy days to you all year...

We had dance and grocery shopping, and putting toys together, and then Kennedy got some weird rash that kept her up most of the night. We have a few presents but no cake (yet I hope) I hope we have an offcial dinner/cake for her this Sunday. Scott is working nights on OT and I don't want to leave him out.

Never the less, the baby, Kelsey Scout Scarbrough is 1 at exactly 1: 21 pm on the 15th. In the middle of one of my classes I happend to glance up and time flew back 365 days. It was the easiest labor even though I was in labor since the day before at 11- in sacrament meeting. The only thing that was bad was the shared room at Show Low with a first time mom and her entire family. Try going to the bathroom in those lovely gowns while crawling over 10 million people. Glad to get home that next day.

Kesley has been a very interesting girl. By far the best sleeper, the baldest, most content to play alone, she also has a terrible temper and like meat- any kind the best. She made it walking just 3 days or sho shy of her first birthday.

She loves loves baby dolls and stuffed animals especially Mr. Pig. She seem so much younger than 1 that I can't believe this day is finally here.

So happy birthday Kelsey, baby sister, Kelsaroo, Rooner Toones, Stinker Pie, ..... We love you.

A prayer answered

A year or so ago I got a great deal on my expensive base makeup- a two for one. I was so excited, but when I got the bags out of the truck- it was gone. I bemoaned my misfortune. I lose things a lot and I know Scott tends to think that it is because I am disorganized. It makes him crazy. I say it is because I am so smart that I can be bothered with the little details in life. :)

I was so upset at losing them that I "punished myself" by not buying that brand and going with the cheaper stuff. I prayed that I would find them, but as the year rolled on, I didn't find them.

Fast forward to today. I was coming home from a birthday party and as I was unloading the truck I saw these little things buried in the dirt drive. We find things all the time, buried because the last owner didn't throw her trash away, she buried it in the dirt. I don't know why exactly they didn't go to the dump. But we reap the benefits of her thoughtfulness- from glass to old tinfoil and sometimes a buried toy.

But this time?
I found my makeup. The most amazing thing is the bottles were not broken; they were intact.
This got me to thinking about how and when the Lord answers prayers. I have prayed a lot over the years; some were answered immediately "Please help me find my phone" and some slowly "please help me with will power" and some not at all. "please help me win the lottery" (JOKE)

But we can't rush the answers. His time is really His time.

So along with the lesson I learn when in the specific situation, I also learn patience. Life is like finding the bottles of makeup a year later. Just when I have accepted the situation, the Lord allows me to find what I wanted.

And sometimes I have decided that I can live without what I wanted.

The Homestead at 2005 N 24th street.

Once 50 years ago a family was trying to make a living on the old Heap Homestead. Times were harder then and most things took longer and had to be done by hand. People gathered together to help each other survive. Irrigation, thanks to many sacrifices, sustained the arid life- you were lucky if you lived close to a ditch system. Water reigned surpreame it was the queen.

One sunny summer day, hay was being cut, baled, and hauled from the Homestead. Sweet smells of cut grass wafted in the butterfly air. Every one had to sweat and grunt through the day. Not one set of able hands could be spared.

Mom, dad, brothers, and cousins were working up an appetite. They baby was locked in the house. Not ideal, but safe. Safe as a curious little 2 year old boy could be.

Safe,

how could he figure out the locks to the doors?

The little guy with so much ahead of him in life, so much curiosity filled his sweet chubby belly. He did figure out the locks and toddled to the bridge. Life was wonderful, so full of frogs and bugs and things. Looking over the edge of the bridge he faltered...

50 years later I was out in the pasture - alone, again feeding late in the evening. Fall cool breeze kissed my legs and face. It was peaceful, I sighed in my aliveness. I was free in the night. The owls hooted, looking for mice; horses swayed and swished their tails against their flanks as I fed them summer hay.

I was at one with the night until I saw a red light out in the pasture.

My stomach jumped in knots immediately. Scott was many miles away. Hairs prickled on the back of my neck.My little ones were sleeping unguarded in the house on what was left of the Homestead. I was alone- even the dogs were safely tucked away on the porch. The stars were so close that the recorded all that night. The great wispy clouds swirled in uncomfortable shapes-first letting the sallow moon's eye out and then covering it like spiderwebs.

The memories of my great-great cousin gripped my icy heart.

"Hello?!"

I squeaked, shining the flashlight out into the pasture. The light bobbed and swayed, but never came closer than the hay pasture beyond the irrigation ditch. I shone the light-first shining to the right and then the left. I was scared and mad. I squinted, I looked out of the corner of my eyes to get a better look, but only saw short grey shadows.

"Good luck boys" I whispered to the horses as I sped walked to the house, trying to keep from falling in my graceless haste.

I didn't look back as the goosebumps pricked my arms. Did little boy giggles follow my speeding feet to the house?

These days, high school students don't party much in the pastures beyond the hay field. One night they say they saw a yellow light shining at them, flickering back and forth and they swore it called out Hello to them from the irrigation ditch....

When Scott works nights

I hear:



a mouse



a coyote



the dog



unidentified stuff





scratching noises





other scary stuff that could be the ghost baby ( if you don't know that story I will tell it someother day)





the cows





the dark -yes it makes noises out here.





And I wish I had my strong guy to protect this house and me. Cause I am not that brave out here alone in the dark with lots of trees and no blinds and bugs, snakes and things that go bump in the night.



Ugghh, OT at TEP at night. Scott won't think I am funny at all when I tell him I was too scared to feed the animals in the dark. But then, I had to- How would I have liked it, going hungry all night? Yet the dog wouldn't even keep me company. I bet he was scared too.

Where's My Purse?

A few years ago, pre-Kelsey, I found the perfect handbag. It was black, tall and could fit a few school papers and the small necessities. It was also cleanable- a necessary thing when you have kids and a hubby who ropes.

It died.

I buried it and was sad. But then I was pregnant and knew my new purse would be a diaper bag. I was ok. Dug out the old eddie bauer- wow it was bigger than I remembered, got a free one at the hspital, and my mom made me one.

But still you don't carry a diaper bag to school- even I don't stoop that low.

I miss my purse. As I was leaving school Friday with an armload of junk for the weekend I remembered fondly my black bag.

I like these. Have started the bag hunt. It needs to be wipe-able, large and deep enough to carry papers, and diapers, and toys and a few things for me, but I don't want it to weigh as heavy as the baby or look like a back pack.

I am searching ....

Fall is in the House (Air)

I love summer with its own summer-y goodness. Sticky sweet from dried chlorine and watermelon on my skin. I love the summer rains (that didn't grace us with her presence near enough this summer) that kiss the afternoon and the top of the swimming pool water, contributing to the greater good and fun. I love wild-haired, summer stained children running pell mell down the slippery slopes of park grass. And Especially a baby's new discovery of the dirty, prickly, world around her. I am in love.

but fall?

Is special in my heart too. The crisp air first whispered to me two weeks ago, faintly in the predawn morning as I kissed my hubby to work. I wanted to say "I saw it first" like a kid in a car trip, spying grandma's house. I waited for her through days that were a little too hot to be called Fall.

Fall is so many good things. It is sticky fair cotton candy sweet. It is sweatshirt warm with winds that swirl instead of tear at you. It is snuggling under your favorite blanket (even if the fan is still on). Football against RV, digging out the high heeled boots that are too hot for summer, homecoming, fireworks at football touch downs. Harvest peaches and gala apples wait to be shipped to my door. I feel like Hailey Mills in Summer Magic movie. All things are possible in fall. Fall even makes school better. The Sky is Fall blue, and I love it too.