Heather over at livin' the dream tagged me with this little number(s).
8 things that happened yesterday:
(I'm doing Thursday--it was more exciting, and besides, I was tagged on Friday.)
1. Jason took Owen to work with him until lunch. They hauled a truckload of peanuts to the buying point, then combined more peanuts.
2. I took Helen and Jack to the Health Department to get their immunizations. Helen got 6 shots and Jack got 3. Helen went first and cried, but was very brave. She almost cried for Jack's sake, too. She had a precious lower lip quiver and big teary eyes, all for him.
3. We went to McDonald's for a yogurt parfait treat for Helen. A lady behind the register gave her a Barbie Happy Meal toy, and a kind elderly gentleman sympathized with her shots, remembering the ones he got during Vietnam.
4. I went to Hudson's Dirt Cheap and found 6 large racks of new clothing priced at 25 cents a piece. I didn't make it all the way through, since I didn't see them until I had already gone through the $1 racks.
5. Jack screamed all the way home, since it was way past his feeding time. Owen cried too when I picked him up from the field. Helen fell asleep.
6. I typed like a mad woman after the kids were fed and tucked in for their naps. I do a little medical transcription for a local doctor, and I like to have it all done as quickly as possible after I get the tapes on Wednesday morning.
7. Helen presented us with a medical "mystery." I found a suspicious blister/sore on Helen's left heel and she had a low-grade fever. She had walked on top of an ant bed the day before, and they had nailed her right foot. But I had also found multiple brown widow spiders on our back porch this week--(freak out!) She had also had her immunizations that morning. Her nose was getting snotty. And she had a weird rash on her legs that had been there for a week, presumably from the cat. We figured out she had the hand-foot-mouth virus that has been going around--the weird blister and the fever. *Sigh of relief*
8. I served leftovers for supper.
8 favorite places to eat:
1. Red Lobster (cheddar biscuits)
2. The Original Oyster House (gumbo)
3. Mom's
4. Mom-in-law's
5. My house--with my family around the table
6. Greasy-spoon diners
7. Cock of the Walk (fried dill pickles and perfect coleslaw!)
8. Tailgate suppers in the field
8 TV shows I like to watch:
1. The Biggest Loser
2. What Not to Wear
3. You are What You Eat
4. How Clean is Your House
5. Uhhhhh.....
6.
8 things I am looking forward to:
1. The end of the hand-foot-mouth virus in our house.
2. Going to Indiana for Thanksgiving.
3. Sunday--church, and a day off work!
4. Meeting our first baby in Heaven.
5. Losing the rest of this stupid pregnancy weight.
6. The next date with my husband (not on calendar yet.)
7. Sewing a dress.
8. Seeing Owen's face tomorrow morning--it's his birthday and I hung streamers after he was in bed.
8 things on my wish list:
1. A food processor attachment for my Bosch.
2. The words, "No, you go to bed, honey. I'll clean up the kitchen."
3. Unlimited $ for fresh fruit and veggies.
4. I wish I could understand everything my son says.
5. I wish Owen didn't have to miss his birthday party. (That hand-foot-mouth thing again.)
6. I wish genetic disorders were curable.
7. I wish I could take a pottery class.
8. World peace. (said with dreamy eyes and pageant hair)
8 friends I tag:
1. Whoever gets the urge.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Funnies
Yesterday I was messing with my camera, and I found the sepia tone. 
Then I found the happy-but-blurry-baby tone.
And I already knew where the video function was. (And so did Owen.)
This was taken yesterday, on my Mom's birthday. (I called her!)
Then I found the happy-but-blurry-baby tone.
And I already knew where the video function was. (And so did Owen.)This was taken yesterday, on my Mom's birthday. (I called her!)
Monday, October 13, 2008
Family Fun
Once upon a recent Saturday, our family found an evening at home, all together.
Owen snuggled with Mommy on the couch after accidentally head-butting her.
Then he tore up some concrete with his tricycle.
Jack humored Daddy's babytalk. (Jack is laughing now.)
Then Jack reminded Mommy it was time for his monthly photo shoot.
And Helen put on her crocs "all by self!"
On another evening, Jack's activity of choice was his bouncy seat with the toy bar, while kitty warmed his toes.
Owen snuggled with Mommy on the couch after accidentally head-butting her.
Then he tore up some concrete with his tricycle.
Jack humored Daddy's babytalk. (Jack is laughing now.)
Then Jack reminded Mommy it was time for his monthly photo shoot.
And Helen put on her crocs "all by self!"
On another evening, Jack's activity of choice was his bouncy seat with the toy bar, while kitty warmed his toes.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Cotton Harvest
Cotton is a favorite crop of mine.
It's southern snow!
The fields are all white after a defoliant is sprayed. This makes the plants drop their leaves, so the cotton can be picked more cleanly. They are also sprayed with a boll opener to open late-maturing bolls.
Here is an open boll. Note the five locks. Imagine positioning your fingers in order to pick it with one grab.
This is a closed boll. This poor little guy won't get picked. He was too stubborn to open, and now he'll be missed.
The locks fluff out into puffy strands when picked.
This is a hard-locked boll. The fibers inside will not fluff out and will not be picked. You can imagine how the boll looks at a younger stage. It develops in sections, sort of the same shape as a wedge of citrus.
These are the seeds that are contained within the cotton. Picking them out is time consuming. You can see the cotton fibers, which are actually hollow. Cotton is graded by staple length, how long the fibers are, and by micronaire, the diameter of the fibers.
Here are some little cotton pickers:
Here is what the empty cotton stalk looks like. It has a beauty all its own.
For the farmer in you:
This is a real cotton picker. It is 4-row picker that Jason and his dad adjusted to pick their skip-row planting. They plant two rows and then skip one. They have a better yield that way, and also a lower cost of seed, fertilizer and chemicals.
The cotton is dumped from the cotton picker into this module builder. (Some farms have "boll buggies" that haul the cotton from the picker to the module builder.) The fluffy cotton gets stomped down with a hydraulic press that is powered by a tractor. It is packed into a giant block called a module. When a module is completed, it gets covered with a tarp to protect it from rain. The back of the module builder is opened, then the whole thing is raised off the ground and driven away, leaving the module behind. The module is tagged and marked with a specialized spray "paint," identifying it with the correct farm. The cotton gin takes it from there. A driver picks up the module and takes it to the gin, where it waits to be processed into bales (500-pound blocks of ginned cotton.) Farmers are paid by the bale, according to the quality of the cotton.
This is inside the module builder, before the module is totally finished. It was mostly packed, or you wouldn't see Jason and the kids at all! They would be in over their heads.
Jumping into cotton is a lot of fun. Years ago, Jason would climb on top of one of those posts, then get someone to raise it all the way up before he jumped. Here we were falling backwards into the cotton. It's such a funny experience. I always feel like I have to plug my nose before I jump!
Jack was oblivious to the action. In this picture, you can see how dirty the cotton actually is. The dirt is mostly dead, crunchy leaves, called pepper trash.
This year's cotton crop was a beautiful one. There was no rain to destroy the open bolls. It picked very cleanly, and you can clearly see the difference between the picked and the unpicked. If a field doesn't pick very well, sometimes farmers will do a second picking after a few more bolls open. This is called scrapping.
Owen is in the command seat of the module builder.
Here is Maggie. She doesn't like to miss out on anything.
Here is my cotton bowl. Heh heh. Clouds for supper!
And here is my attempt at a still life:
It's southern snow!The fields are all white after a defoliant is sprayed. This makes the plants drop their leaves, so the cotton can be picked more cleanly. They are also sprayed with a boll opener to open late-maturing bolls.
Here is an open boll. Note the five locks. Imagine positioning your fingers in order to pick it with one grab.
This is a closed boll. This poor little guy won't get picked. He was too stubborn to open, and now he'll be missed.
The locks fluff out into puffy strands when picked.
This is a hard-locked boll. The fibers inside will not fluff out and will not be picked. You can imagine how the boll looks at a younger stage. It develops in sections, sort of the same shape as a wedge of citrus.
These are the seeds that are contained within the cotton. Picking them out is time consuming. You can see the cotton fibers, which are actually hollow. Cotton is graded by staple length, how long the fibers are, and by micronaire, the diameter of the fibers.Here are some little cotton pickers:
Here is what the empty cotton stalk looks like. It has a beauty all its own.
For the farmer in you:
This is a real cotton picker. It is 4-row picker that Jason and his dad adjusted to pick their skip-row planting. They plant two rows and then skip one. They have a better yield that way, and also a lower cost of seed, fertilizer and chemicals.
The cotton is dumped from the cotton picker into this module builder. (Some farms have "boll buggies" that haul the cotton from the picker to the module builder.) The fluffy cotton gets stomped down with a hydraulic press that is powered by a tractor. It is packed into a giant block called a module. When a module is completed, it gets covered with a tarp to protect it from rain. The back of the module builder is opened, then the whole thing is raised off the ground and driven away, leaving the module behind. The module is tagged and marked with a specialized spray "paint," identifying it with the correct farm. The cotton gin takes it from there. A driver picks up the module and takes it to the gin, where it waits to be processed into bales (500-pound blocks of ginned cotton.) Farmers are paid by the bale, according to the quality of the cotton.
This is inside the module builder, before the module is totally finished. It was mostly packed, or you wouldn't see Jason and the kids at all! They would be in over their heads.
Jumping into cotton is a lot of fun. Years ago, Jason would climb on top of one of those posts, then get someone to raise it all the way up before he jumped. Here we were falling backwards into the cotton. It's such a funny experience. I always feel like I have to plug my nose before I jump!
Jack was oblivious to the action. In this picture, you can see how dirty the cotton actually is. The dirt is mostly dead, crunchy leaves, called pepper trash.
This year's cotton crop was a beautiful one. There was no rain to destroy the open bolls. It picked very cleanly, and you can clearly see the difference between the picked and the unpicked. If a field doesn't pick very well, sometimes farmers will do a second picking after a few more bolls open. This is called scrapping.
Owen is in the command seat of the module builder.
Here is Maggie. She doesn't like to miss out on anything.
Here is my cotton bowl. Heh heh. Clouds for supper!And here is my attempt at a still life:
Friday, October 3, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Helen's Thumb
This morning, Helen was unusually cranky. I finally noticed what looked like a giant green booger on the end of her thumb. I admit, this finding didn't surprise me in the least. I tried to quickly swipe it away, but it wouldn't budge. I peered closer and saw, with a thrilling sense of disgust, that the tip of her thumb was swollen with a nasty buildup of pus.
I sprung into action. I gathered supplies from the medicine cabinet. I seated her on the counter in my sewing room, where I could pull up a chair myself and work with a steady hand. I pricked and drained the sore with a sterilized needle. She sniffled bravely through this ordeal, and seemed relieved that I was doing something about it. I smothered it with Bactroban and loaded the Band-Aids on top.
Whilst I was binding up the wound, Owen stood by and made soothing statements such as "Oooh, Helen! It's okay, Helen! Poor Helen!" We asked Jesus to heal it and to help Helen not to pull off the new bandage on her thumb (as well as the old bandage on the bridge of her nose, which is another nasty sore, completely due to her scratching and picking at it, from the very beginning.)
I'm not sure what originally happened with her thumb, except I think it had something to do with her nails being extremely fragile. They split very easily, and if I forget to trim them, they tear off too short. I think either her nail tore or I cut it too short, allowing dirt to get in under her nail and into her skin. I hope she can leave it alone and let it heal. If it doesn't get better, I'll have to haul her into the doctor.
I sprung into action. I gathered supplies from the medicine cabinet. I seated her on the counter in my sewing room, where I could pull up a chair myself and work with a steady hand. I pricked and drained the sore with a sterilized needle. She sniffled bravely through this ordeal, and seemed relieved that I was doing something about it. I smothered it with Bactroban and loaded the Band-Aids on top.
Whilst I was binding up the wound, Owen stood by and made soothing statements such as "Oooh, Helen! It's okay, Helen! Poor Helen!" We asked Jesus to heal it and to help Helen not to pull off the new bandage on her thumb (as well as the old bandage on the bridge of her nose, which is another nasty sore, completely due to her scratching and picking at it, from the very beginning.)
I'm not sure what originally happened with her thumb, except I think it had something to do with her nails being extremely fragile. They split very easily, and if I forget to trim them, they tear off too short. I think either her nail tore or I cut it too short, allowing dirt to get in under her nail and into her skin. I hope she can leave it alone and let it heal. If it doesn't get better, I'll have to haul her into the doctor.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Need New Furniture?
I am one happy person.
Goodbye, navy/hunter green/burgundy plaid!! May you have a more loved life with your new owner.
Hello, beautiful vintage green leather, in reasonable shape with no holes or tears!! You are soft and supple, now that I have cleaned and polished you with saddle soap. You ably cradle your dwellers, creating for them a comfortable, soothing cocoon.
When I am seated, I command the universe from my living room. Behold the power of a well-crafted chair!
One more look, up close and personal, for old times' sake.
Goodbye, navy/hunter green/burgundy plaid!! May you have a more loved life with your new owner.
Hello, beautiful vintage green leather, in reasonable shape with no holes or tears!! You are soft and supple, now that I have cleaned and polished you with saddle soap. You ably cradle your dwellers, creating for them a comfortable, soothing cocoon.
When I am seated, I command the universe from my living room. Behold the power of a well-crafted chair!
One more look, up close and personal, for old times' sake.
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