Flowers, critters, and lazy wine drinkers.

I'm a bad, bad, blogger.

Summer has me in a bit of a time warp. We've been so busy, time slips by, and before I know it, I've gone a week without writing anything.

Not that you've missed me.

I've been wanting to try making a fabric flower out of scrap fabrics. I finally tried it while the kids snacked on sugary cereal and watched television.

You do what you gotta do.



I made the flower to match a little polka dot skirt that I had scraps from. It looks like a really huge corsage in this picture. It's more balanced out when you can see all of her head.




I'm not sure what emotion this is.
Spunky?
Inquisitive?
Angry at me for taking her picture without brushing her hair or insisting on shoes?

Earlier in the day...


What are these guys looking at?


This little guy.


My dad is a big gardener.He has trouble with critters sneaking in and eating all his veggies. If they made a deer sized cage, he would have one. Almost every morning the kids want to know if grandaddy had anything in a trap. If he does, we have to go take a look.
While trying to satisfy the midnight munchies - this racoon was lured into one of the traps.



Before you get all excited and call PETA, let me say he takes all critters to the nearby lake, and releases them.
Even possums. (opossums??)
Well, with the exception of skunks - but I won't get into that.



I let each of the kids take a carrot to feed the racoon.

Lilly got greedy.

Next critter...



The new baby calf.

For some reason, the momma cow (or, as my dad ikes to say, heffer), refuses to nurse her baby. My cousin and her grandaughter came to give him a bottle. A BIG bottle.




All of this critter interaction takes place down the street from Nashville International Airport.

I love Nashville.




I snapped this picture of Baker, my shirtless wonder, because I love his curls, and I'm about to get him a haircut. It's cute dry , but when it's wet at the pool, he's sporting a serious mullet. Jackson won't stop saying "business in the front, party in the back", and I'm afraid he's going to catch on to the joke.


And, finally, I spotted this advertisement in my Atlanta market guide.




How lazy do you have to be to wear your wine around your neck?





The phone number is clearly visible, and you can order one if you too hate to use your hands while drinking.




LittlebitsDesigns.com

Big Bill the Bull

There are so many things I loved about growing up in Nashville. I always lived in the city, but I was still able to experience some aspects of "farm" life.
Nearby, we have a Chik-fil-a with a farmhouse and horses right across the street. My grandparents ran a dairy farm. The dairy farm my dad grew up on is now a runway at the Nashville International Airport.




The property they moved their farm to is just a few miles away. The property is still in my family, and there are still cows around to keep the land clear. My sweet dad feeds them every day, and my kids LOVE to go along.




This is 'Big Bill'. He is the biggest bull and you don't mess with him. (even though my mom swears he is really sweet)



Lilly loves to stand at the fence (which is a little rickety for my taste - especially with Big Bill on the other side), and call the cows to dinner.

The official cow call is "Sook,sook, come on!!"

Don't ask me what it means - I have NO idea. It sounds just as crazy to me.

But it works..

My sweet baby girl can yell this at the top of her 3 year old lungs, and they all come lumbering over. It is so funny when she says it,so I made it the ringtone on my phone.



Baker loves to climb up in the loft to throw down the hay.




I have to keep Lilly occupied with the barn cat so she doesn't beg to go up too.



This is Tippy Tail.



Tippy Tail is your friend if you give her treats - a trick Lilly learned quickly.

When I was little, there was also a large hog pen. I was mortified of them. My grandfather was a little gruff, and did not mince words. He told me to stay away from them, and that's exactly what I did.
Every year they would slaughter hogs. My parents have some lovely, charming, photos of my sister and I in front of a headless hog hanging by his feet.
I will spare you this photo. It's gross, and I'm sure someone would call PETA and Child Protective Services. What was my mom thinking?

Did you notice that some of the cows have a big orange dot on their hind ends? That shows which cows are being "taken away". (Adios, Big Bill!)







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