Frost Kissed

The Tooth Fairy's First Visit

Our happy Picasso.

The Tooth Fairy made her very first visit to our house Friday night. After supper, Picasso told us that he had a wiggly tooth. He kept playing with it and a couple of hours later, it fell out! That was quick and painless! So imagine the smile above missing the bottom right center tooth, since my favorite photographer is still in New Jersey.

We left a note for the Tooth Fairy, asking her to please leave his tooth so he could take it to school. She honored our request, leaving a silver dollar and a gold dollar with the tooth. Picasso was so excited that he had to wake everyone up at 6:00 a.m. to show them what the Tooth Fairy left for him. Now he can hardly wait to lose another one!

Three Silly Goats Gruff

Once upon a time, there were three silly goats gruff. Little brother Mr. Gilly, middle sister Cutie Pie, and big brother Lightening. They lived in the middle of a weedy field in a comfortable goat pen adorned with a coral reef mural. Yes, that's right, a coral reef. Their owners, Picasso, Cowboy, and Farmer painted it for them to enjoy. Whatever floats your goat!

Lightning and Mr. Gilly sharing their favorite stump.

O.k., enough sharing! I'm king of the hill!
Lighting gives Mr. Gilly a little shove off of the stump.

Mr. Gilly and Cutie Pie - these two are twins.

Farmer and his pal Mr. Gilly.

Lightning and Cutie Pie getting used to their new home.

We've had our goat friends for just over a month now and they are getting very fat. All of the kids love them, but especially Farmer. He helps me feed and water them twice a day and even hand feeds them their oats each afternoon. I like to think that our goat love us too. When we let them out, they follow us around like puppies. It's really sweet.

Three Year Old Wisdom

Three year old Farmer has had a lot on his mind lately. Here are some of the observations he has shared this week:

While driving in the van, we passed by a roadkill skunk surprise: "Hey! I smell a STUNK!"

When I asked him to please stop picking his nose, he informed me, "But I like picking my nose."

Then four year old Cowboy chimed in, "And when I eat my boogers, sometimes they taste yummy!"

After I named all of our neighbors who were leaving on a trip today, he replied: "Wow! That's going to be a lot of pounds!"

When I came in from tending our animals and found Farmer standing on a chair in the dining room, tossing handfuls of Honey Bunches of Oats into the air: "Look Mommy! I'm a blizzard. See all of my snowflakes!"

These were sprinkled with lots of "Mom, I love you soooooooo much!" Which really helped while I was cleaning up all of that cereal.

Help, help me Rhonda!

You know, sometimes we get so caught up in counting the big blessings that we forget about the little ones. So here are a couple of the little ones I'm grateful for.

On Sunday I was very grateful that Bitty said his real part during the primary program, instead of the one he and his buddy made up during the practice last Wednesday. See, he was supposed to say "My name is Bitty and I am a child of God." He knew it inside and out and was looking forward to his chance to stand up at the pulpit. But Wednesday night he came home from the practice in a crazy mood and announced to me that he had a new part. "My name is Boobyhead, and I poop my pants." YIKES! I tried to brush it off, but Sunday morning when I saw his sweet smiling face behind that microphone I had to whisper a little prayer..."Oh please, don't let him say it!" And he didn't! Bitty came through with his real part, loud and clear. I was proud. And very, very grateful.

Then last night I went to a Pampered Chef Party. There were lots of lovely items to buy...mostly overpriced...but I was tempted. I really wanted a couple of things. The demo lady was exceptionally slow, giving me plenty of time to draw up a lengthy wish list. I wonder if she poked along for that very reason? Anyway, I was seriously considering placing a sizable order, when Rhonda spoke up. Now, I like her, but she and I really aren't the best of friends. And sometimes I just don't quite know what to make of her or her loud and plentiful comments. But last night she was a wealth of information. Rhonda has lots of Pampered Chef products, and from the way she was talking, most of them are broken! I had to chuckle inside as she detailed all of her useless kitchen gizmos and gadgets. The demo lady tried to smooth over each one "Bring me your receipt and we'll see if it's still covered on your warranty." "You can order replacement wires for only $4.00." "Maybe you just got a bad one." By the time I had to leave I'd whittled down my list enough to not bother ordering at all. So today, when I could have been feeling buyers regret, I wasn't. Instead, I was grateful for Rhonda and all of her help. Oh yeah! Help, help me Rhonda!

An Autumn Tradition

Every autumn I tuck a few more bulbs into my garden. This year I transplanted some daffodill bulbs that I had originally planted at my Mom and Dad's. They were the ones my boss Larry gave me when I quit working at Temple Square and ran off to marry my Prince Charming.

There were several different kinds of lovely daffodills in the mix, but I'm really hoping that I ended up with some of the 'Geranium' bulbs. When you dig them up, they all look pretty similar! Geranium produces clusters of small creamy flowers with orange cups. And their fragrance is delightful! Think orange blossom or gardenia without being nauseating. They are dainty and sweet. I'll have to wait until spring, or maybe even the next spring, to know for sure what I've got, but they are worth the wait.


Either way, when much of the local landscape resembles a soggy brown cat, I'll have cheerful beauties like these grape hyacinths popping up all over my garden. Year after year, without any more help from me. Bulbs really are the queens of low maintenance.

If you haven't planted any bulbs this fall and need some inspiration to do so, I'd recommend reading The Daffodill Principle by Jaroldeen Asplund Edwards. It's a fantastic little read!