Saturdays in Redneckville: A Sunday Hike

Like any blogger who is convinced they can become famous, I try to drive traffic to my blog by reading and commenting on other blogs. I'm not sure it works, but I have come across some blogs that I really enjoy and have begun reading regularly (because as a full time mother, full time failing housewife, and part time fabric store employee I totally have hours to waste devote to reading blogs online for the sheer enjoyment of it). One of the blogs I have become addicted to is Tilting at Windmills authored by CWMartin. He regularly writes about walks he takes with his dog, Scrappy, complete with pictures. One of these posts inspired me to take a hike as a family. Lucky for me the Seahawks had a bye week and Larch and I both have Sundays off. I told Larch I wanted to go for a hike, but I wanted a trail or a road or something to walk on because I am a wimp and smart money says at least one of us will be carrying at least one of the children at least part way back to the car. He thought about it, and picked probably the most awesome last minute destination ever.

We drove for an hour, maybe more, I was distracted by the view.

On any good hike, we start with food.

This is not a no trespassing gate. This is a keep the motorized vehicles out gate. My son pointed out that someone just drove their four wheeler around the gate. 

Lily never wants to hold Daddy's hand.

This was about a half mile in.

According to Larch, these are hallucinogenic. I will take his word for it as they also contain arsenic. 

This is blurry, but it is a really old wheelbarrow. This is how we knew we were getting close to our final destination.

Old Mine shack/shaft. Well played husband.

So what does any good North Idaho family do?

 We get closer...

and closer...

and look inside.

And we go around and find another building. We think it was an office, living space, or MAYBE a secondary entrance.

See...Daddy has to carry Lily at least some of the time.

You can't tell from this picture, but we think this is the remains of a cooking stove.

It's hunting season, so we make our dog wear an orange vest.

Still carrying Lily.

That blue out there between the close mountains and the far mountains, is Lake Pend Oreille.

While I was busy taking picture of the distant lake, the kids were doing this...

We ended the day at Superman and Lois Lane's. Superman and Larch brewed some beer that should be ready around Halloween, while we watched movies and the kids played in the dirt. And Johnny lost another tooth.

He could be a Jack O'Lantern for Halloween this year. Or a cage fighter.

Saturday in Redneckville: Football Fever

You would more or less have to live under a rock to not realize that it is football season in the USA. I mean the kind with a brown oval ball and big black men in pads and helmets, not the one with the round ball and men in shorts running around. I happen to be a pretty decent football fan. Wait, I am a Seahawks fan, not really football in general. I watch games in which my team plays but I don't take time out of my Monday and Thursday to watch teams whose merchandise I don't buy.

I am not going to give you a run down of the Seattle/Denver game. We won and that's all the matters. The fact that it was in overtime just means that my heart rate and blood pressure were very likely temporarily at unhealthy rates.

 I brought up football because, I learned this weekend that my husband could take it or leave it when it comes to watching football, but I might have a conniption if I miss a game. If the fact that I kicked my husband out while the game was on (the Seahawks play better when he listens on the radio at his brothers) wasn't weird enough, I "watched" the game with my sister via Facebook messenger.  She recently moved to Denver. (I should maybe call her and make sure her Seahawk loyalties didn't get her killed or maimed today.) While we aren't, and never were, very close, she, like me, lettered in football in high school, so we do sort of bond over football. And it's no fun to watch by yourself.

Also, these amazing  pictures of my kids amusing themselves while I screamed at the sweaty young men on my television.

Johnny made himself "overalls" out of a plastic shopping bag while on time out.

I have no idea what Lily was doing here. She was just sitting there making this face.

P.S. I guess I better clarify the lettering in football. Neither my sister or I actually played football. She did get tackled once though. We were the statisticians.  We ran up and down the sidelines during the game keeping track of yards run and yards passed, interceptions, fumbles, and all that wonderful stuff. Our duties included traveling with the team to all away games. For anyone who thinks keeping stats for two years in a row doesn't really qualify you for a letter, try taking hour plus bus rides home with a team of football players. Most of them shower, but their pads still reek. I paid my dues.

What I Did Last Summer or Why I Now Hate Cops

I'm back! Again.

I was forced to take a hiatus from blogging so that I could play the leading role in one of the situations you read about where a parent is dragged through the court system because they let their children play outside while mom stayed inside to clean up the hurricane that is two school aged children in the middle of the summer.

Here is the short version:

Johnny was riding his bike around the block with his friend. You know down our street, around the corner, up the next street over around the corner again and back down the sidewalk in front of my house. Every three or four houses there was a house occupied by a friend or family member. Lily asked to go play outside. I said, "Yes, but stay in the yard, don't follow Johnny he doesn't want his kid sister hanging around." I then went back inside to finish packing up to go camping. 

Fifteen or twenty minutes later I went outback for a smoke break. I didn't see Lily but I heard her and from the direction of the sound of her giggles I assumed she had crossed the alley to play at Tenielle's house with BossyPants and BellaRose, something she is regularly allowed to do. About the time I finished my cigerette, the cop showed up. 

Mr. Motorcycle Cop asked if I knew where my daughter was. Apparently, She had been running after Johnny and his friend and while they were on the next street over, right in front of Tennille's house where they regularly play. A kind and concerned (read nosy) neighbor lady saw a small child running down the sidewalk without an adult and flagged down the cop. 

The end result is that I was charged with misdemeanor injury to a child. I got a public defender and would have tried my case before a jury, but since the outcome would have been dependent on the jury liking me and this whole ordeal has thrown my BPD into chaos (I went from minimum diagnostic symptoms to all nine in a matter of 24 hours), I chose to plea out. I am currently on a year probation with a years withheld judgment. That means that if I meet all the conditions of my probation (no problems with the law more serious then not wearing my seat belt and completing a parenting class by January 15th) then the judge will likely dismiss the case. Until then, it isn't even put on my record. As long as I go take this stupid state mandated parenting class that tells me to negotiate with my children and coddle them rather than putting my foot down, none of this will show up in a background check.  Because you know, there isn't enough crime in the US so we have to waste time and taxpayer dollars telling people how to raise their kids and prosecuting them for not doing it they way the 30 something with no kids from California* thinks they should.

*I do not really hate or discriminate against people from California, They just seem to be the ones moving into the very conservative area I live in and trying to make us all liberals**. In this case, the woman really did move here from California.

**I also do not have a problem with most liberals, just the ones who try to tell me how to live and parent and what I can and cannot buy, own, or eat, while telling me that I am close-minded and intolerant.