Fairly slow days recently, and much appreciated!!

The girls have finally settled into a routine.  When the routine is not followed, things tend to get out of hand.  It happens about 2 times a week on average.

Mornings are much nicer when the routine is followed.  Dh has recently begun hearing the alarm and trying to wake me up when the alarm goes off.  NOT GOOD.

Yesterday morning, he did it.  I ignored it the first few times, but finally turned over and growled at him.  I explained that the alarm was set for 6:30 so that I could get out of bed by 7:30.  That I do NOT get out of bed before 7:30 and that I would appreciate it if he would shut the hell up and let me snooze, along with the snooze button, until I would jump out of bed at 7:30 a.m sharp to get the girls up.

Well, in my mind that is what I was saying anyway.  I am not sure exactly that all that came out, but he shut up and left me alone, so it was all good.

My back field is slowly being covered with snow.  Eskimo’s (being not PC here) have some 200 words for snow.  I have two.  Snow I like, and Snow I do not like.  Okay, three, Snow I am ambivalent about.

This is snow type 3.  Doesn’t bother me a bit, but I do wish it was Snow type 1. Snow type 1 is huge, large flakes that fall totally vertically down, floating gently to cover the earth in a white blanket of silence.  Snow Type 1 causes school to be canceled.  Snow Type 1 means you go to the frig and see how much milk you have at the beginning of Snow Type 1.  Snow Type 1 is best on Thanksgiving or Christmas Day.  Snow Type 1 can amass a whopping 2 or 3 feet around here abouts.  I like it a lot. 

It is funny as heck to watch Fifty One go out into Snow Type 1.  She runs out the door, and disappears into a snowbank, sending me into total stitches of laughter and derision standing a the door watching her.  I tend to say things to the cat like, “bet ya won’t do THAT again…Stupid cat.”

Snow Type 1 means I have to  dig out the snowsuits and go out with the kids and make a snowman, and snow angels, and have a snowball fight and then come in and make snow ice cream.  Snow ice cream only tastes good when you are a little kid, but even when you are an adult, you will make it willingly, in the hopes that it will taste as good as it did when you were 6 years old.  It never does, but you will do it every single time anyway.

DH is having a good bit of trouble with ***MOLES***.  He is a man possessed.  His goal in life is to now rid the earth of every single mole in existence.

We have moles in our two acres.  They did furrows of good, black earth up and mar the perfect two acres of well manicured grass that he tries so hard to keep.

I don’t have the heart to tell him that the two acres of well manicured grass, is, in fact, well manicured timothy hay.  **shrugging**.  He is a city boy.

Moles like timothy hay.  They eat it from beneath.  They like the roots.  Moles live in an upside down world.  Moles, like most animals, do not bother me.  My attitude is that Moles eat and kill grass.  Then, you have less to mow.  There is no possible way they will eat the entire two acres up.  Moles are on average, about 4 inches long.  An acre is on average, a lot bigger than that.

The other day, he was out crushing mole hills, and a grandfather mole ran out in front of him.  Whipping the tractor around, he followed it.  Round and round the yard he chased the grandfather mole.  Throwing up a bit more dirt with the tractor wheels than an entire family of moles could possibly dig up in a year or two, and leaving ruts in the yard.  Back and forth he chased that mole.  Finally, up over the bank and out on to the street, where he summarily ended the fat little mole’s life. Turned it right into road pizza.  In front of the neighbors, who were at that point, laughing.

Did DH feel awkward?  He did not.  He proudly pointed out to the neighbors  the dead mole on the street, and then stuck his thumb up in the universal sign for “I DID IT”. They clapped. Then he came into the house to share his conquest of nature with me.  I was proud.  We now refer to DH as the ‘mole killer’.

Looking out the patio door where there is no patio, I can see about 10 mole hills.  It has been one whole day since he went out with the tractor and ran them all over.

The cold will send them into hibernation, or kill them or whatever happens to moles in the winter.  I won’t have to deal with moles for at least 4 months.

By then, I may be able to find something less amusing to get rid of the moles, then again, why take away his quest, and why take away something amusing to me?