Saturdays in Redneckville: Backyard Camping and a Dead Mouse

So, what's the first thing you do after going camping? SLEEP. Then you set up your tent in your yard to air and sweep it out. And then you leave it up because the kids saw it and they want to sleep in it.

Tennille's kids have never been camping. EVER. So, we had a practice round in our backyard. Complete with s'mores.

Camping Dinner. Yep, Johnny was in a button down and a tie. He just wanted to. 

Our tent. Oh wait, this is David Tennant I got distracted.
 (I do not know the source of this picture, it was on Tennille's computer.
 If you own the copyright, please let me know,
I will credit you or take it down, which ever you prefer).

This is our tent. It's huge. We slept two adults and five kids and had room for at least two more sleeping bags.

I made fire. Without Larch. And without gasoline. Thank you Girl Scouts

Bella Rose all snuggled up.

Bossypants' first roasted marchmellow.

Oh yeah, we use old car seats as chairs around our backyard fire pit. 

Johnny like wearing no shirt. Flipper likes his marshmallows burnt. 

Tennille said the baby wanted marshmallows. I think she just felt nostalgic about childhood.

When we camp for real, the phones will be locked in the car. 

In other news....

Later in the week, my laundry room started to smell. I thought maybe the hot weather had just made the washing machine funky. The laundry didn't smell when it came out of the washer, and the drum didn't stink, but there was a definite odor around the washing machine. Thinking that perhaps a wet rag or sock had gotten dropped behind or beneath the machine, I pulled it out to investigate. This is what I found...

Yeah, the worst part is that Larch made me deal with it. I had to pull it out and throw it away. But I did it.

Today, I duct taped our kiddie pool back together. Give me a mullet and I could be the redneck woman poster child.

The Great Skirt Experiment

I'm starting an experiment today.

Growing up my mom never wore pants, she only wore skirts or dresses. She did, for a period of time, wear a pair of overalls when she gardened. This last Christmas, she bought a pair of jeans because everybody else was wearing jeans for family pictures and so my kids have not experienced Grandmama in only skirts.

While I was deciding what my style is going to be this summer, since I'm no longer ashamed of my weight, I started buying and making boho skirts. I figure they will provide a nice but casual look and will allow me the comfort of shorts without blinding my friends with my pale skin.

Starting today I am NOT going to wear jeans or pants for a month. I am also, not going to tell anyone of my intentions, except, obviously, for you my dear readers. 

Johnny doesn't think I can do it. I want to go camping for Mother's Day and he thinks you have to wear jeans when you go camping. Every memory I have of camping as a child, my mother wore denim skirts, not jeans. 

The experiment part is seeing how long it takes the people in my daily life, my husband, my brothers-in-law, friends I see regularly, etc, to notice that I haven't been wearing pants . Also, when I start wearing jeans again, I want to see thier reaction, if they have one. 

These are the things that come from being a bored stay at home mom with very little social life

Z is for Pretty Zygomatic Bones



This is the zygomatic bone. I have pretty ones.This picture is from Grey's Anatomy and therefore in the
public domain, howeverm, here is the source I found it at

According to Dictionary.com a zygomatic bone is "a bone on each side of the face below the eye, forming the prominence of the cheek." According to my 8th grade crush, I have pretty ones.

I was that scary stalker girl in junior high. At least, some might classify me as such. Our school had only 400 student and that was counting from kindergarten through the senior class. The junior high and high school were in the same building. All but four of the classrooms were located in one small hallway. The size and set up of the school made it easy to know almost everyone's class schedule, if you tried. It also meant that whether or not I may or may not have been lingering outside my crush's classroom door, it always appeared this way. There was only one hallway and my locker was in the middle of it!

This particular girlhood crush was in 10th grade while I struggled through eighth. (I have always like older men. My first ever obsession was Prince William and he's three years my senior.) I have one very clear memory of the boy who thought I possessed lovely cheekbones: the day he told me he didn't like me like that.

This young man sought me out between 6th and 7th period, the last two classes of the day, and took my by the shoulders and looked at me eye to eye. This is important to note. He was already near or over six feet and I hadn't even hit five feet yet. (Today I am only 1/4 inch over 5 feet.) His momma must of have raised him right because he spoke very gently and wanted to make sure that I was going to be okay. He said to me, "I am flattered that you like me, you have very nice cheekbones, but I have a girl friend and I don't like you in that way." I managed not to cry in front of him. I may have cried during band (my last class of the day) and I'm pretty sure I cried on the hour long bus ride home. I KNOW I cried once I was safely in my room. My best friend kept trying to console me, telling me that at least he thought I had pretty cheekbones.

I texted my friend today to ask if she remebered this emotionally tough moment of my early teens. She said "Yes! That was so odd but sweet." Here's to my pretty zygomatic bones! I hope now that I am older they can be called sexy!