Messy Garage and the Truck of Glory

Disclaimer: This is NOT nor will this EVER be a picture resembling our garage...and I have no idea where I got it.

My husband is cleaning out the garage for Spring Break...again. Every vacation starts with a declaration that his sweet old truck deserves shelter in its old age and so it begins. Every. single. thing....we have stuffed, shoved, slid, or hid(den) in the garage for the past six months gets dragged out onto the driveway.

And about half of it gets shoved, pushed, slid, or hidden right back in albeit in a much neater and more organized fashion...until the next six months take their inevitable toll.

This time, it is ever so much more urgent that the truck be housed in the garage again because the neighborhood dogs (and if we are honest about it, our dogs probably too) pee all over Scott's new tires every morning. He hates it. It is somehow insulting to both the truck and to his masculinity.

In addition to that impetus, we also had the added intrigue of moving twenty adolescent chickens out of the "temporary" garage coop (which was exceedingly long term for them I think since by the end they were actually perching ON TOP of one another) as well, along with the dust, feed, watering apparati (plural of apparatus, right?), and mountains of poo...out to the official chicken coop area.

The old ugly chickens (I'm not being harsh, it is absolutely the honest truth--many had not one. single. tail feather left) were graciously taken by a man Scott befriended on the custodial staff at school...I believe he and his family may be eating them as I type. I'm not thinking about that anymore...

Scott put in a new garage sink today, had the toilet cleaned (totally NOT by me, but by our unfortunate cleaning lady)--Oh, what's that you say? A toilet in the garage? Odd? You have no idea. I can't go into the oddity of it right now, but my husband thinks the garage toilet (mind you, there is no "stall" around said toilet), is one of the single greatest things about this house. Until you go out to talk to your husband and find him, well, you know...bleh.

Anyhoo, not thinking about that anymore either...

Perhaps I will post a real "after" picture soon. Then again, perhaps we will be revisiting this post again next spring...

P.S. I know this post is light-hearted, but in all seriousness, a dear friend of mine's husband is in the hospital and is very ill. They have a big family like we do and homeschool. Daddy is their world. If you have a moment, could you please pray for the Payne family, and especially for Alif, the dad? I sure would appreciate it.

XOXOX

Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time there was a girl who always dreamed of having little boys. And then she had a girl. And she loved the little girl more than she could possibly imagine. At times she felt as though her heart might break with the love she felt for the little girl and she could not imagine a little boy could capture her affections in the same way.

And then she had a little boy. And she adored him. She adored his breath on her cheek while he slept and his impossibly impish grin. She marveled at how different two children could be and often misunderstood his passive frustration to be shyness and/or deliberate rudeness. Once she "figured him out," they became very close.

Then another little boy came along, full of joy and giggles. His sensitivity and passion rivaled only her own and they instantly bonded and became "happy guys," for this was the second little boy's favorite phrase.

And then came another little girl...who was nothing like the rest. She cried for four months straight and then smiled for the next five months straight. She left her mommy at a loss for words because her mommy was SO THANKFUL the little girl STOPPED CRYING. And even more thankful she became such a happy little girl.

The End.