Um, Yes. A Title.

Greetings, you fine blogging people, you! It's been a while. Maybe it really hasn't been a while, but for some reason I feel like I've lived a thousand weeks this week. Can that be possible? I mean, a thousand weeks is a lot, but I'm serious, this week was LONG. It could have had something to do with the fact that even on my days off I was awake at the patooty-crack of dawn which always makes your day seem to last forever. Have you ever thought just how depressing it is to wake up at 6 a.m. and I mean wake up! Not turn your alarm off and roll over for another 30 minutes, but wake up and get dress, shower, shampoo and shine AND eat breakfast AND drive halfway across town (and in Oklahoma, that's a long ways) AND drink coffee AND keep your husband company at such a stinking un-godly hour all to realize when lunch times rolls around that you have been up for SIX whole hours, which is almost an entire work day! I found it to be incredibly downright awful. I don't ever wish to be that awake at 6 am for at least a few more days. I can't handle it. I mean, I woke up at 7:00 Friday, and 7:30 today and it's just wrong. Just flat awful doggone wrong. Woe is me. I don't care if you think I'm a ninny, I like sleeping in. I like not waking up until 7:45 a.m. and at least I'm not like my brother in-law. I called his house the other morning at 9 a.m and got this.

I: (groggy) Um, Hello?

Me: Hey "I"! Where you asleep?

I: Um, yeah.

Me: I'm sorry! Where's "T"?

I: Um, I don't know.

Me: Oh, okay...well, I'll try her on her cell.

I: Um, okay. Hey, what time is it?

Me: It's a little after nine o'clock!

I: (in a very, extremely, most definitely relieved voice) Oh, okay. Good. 

He doesn't wake up until noon on most days. Lazy bones.

In other news. 

We (being, myself and Jenni) bred my little mare on Thursday, and ladies and gentlemen was that a life experience. You know, having been raised in the country, I've experienced the mating of different animals on more than one occasion. I mean it was never really a question about birds and bees, it was more like chickens and dogs....

Ahem. 

But horses? Lord have mercy.

And my sister. My 16 year old sister that I think is still hanging onto 13. She was there! And I found myself saying "It's just all part of nature, sis." and she would reply in between hysterical laughter "I know!" but I couldn't help but feel responsible for what she saw.  So I asked her just to be sure that she knew all about babies and such...And she laughed. And I laughed. And we laughed. And for goodness sake I am so glad Brandon wasn't there because he would have laughed and then I would have turned bright red.

Chickens, dogs, cats and cows, okay they're discreet. Sorta. Okay, not really. But horses? Lord have mercy!

If the real Ranch Wife can call her milk cow a hussy on her blog, than I can call my horse a hussy on mine. I've never seen anything like it. I think I'm still in shock. I kind of expected to put my mare out in a pasture with a nice good-looking paint stallion, and that she'd stay for a few days while they discussed what to name their offspring and what color to paint the foals stall, and then in the middle of the night they'd light some candles, say a few prayers and then......but NO. 

I called it education. I thanked Jenni for the wonderful services she so graciously allowed her stallion to supply. My sister thanked her for (quote) "Lots of laughs." 

Lawsy mercy. As pioneer woman would say. 

That was Thursday. Friday I babysat a garage sale. Today I babysat a garage sale. Then I went shopping with my earnings, which made it a beautiful experience. I made $75 and Brandon made $10. I tried telling him to get rid of the tools that he couldn't remember the last time he used. That didn't work. I tried telling him he didn't need eleventy billion craftsman wrenches and that surely he could part with a few. That didn't work. I tried sneaking tools. That didn't work. I tried demanding tools. That most definitely didn't work. I tried pouting. That made him take some tools that he gave me back. So, I ended up with chinese wrenches (because of course he couldn't sell anything made in the USA) a flag on a little stick, an old tape measure, a few hammers that were beat to smitherenes, and a rubber mallet. Oh, and a few plastic handled thinga-ma-bobs and a "widget" thing that does some sort of electric current something something. I'll be a monkeys aunt if every last one of them didn't sell within the first hour. 

I mean to tell ya.

So, that's been that. I don't really feel like going into detail on the rest of the week. I think mating horses and craftsman wrenches are plenty for today. I'm still trying to forget: 1.) that we haven't done our taxes yet 2.) that mean old greedy man still hasn't been taken care of 3.) that every last one of our laborers has caused us headaches this week 4.) that they all do drugs 5.) that one of them got paid twice to do the same work because he messed it up the first time 6.) that we had to rebuild nasty orange countertops because they were ruined on accident 7.) that Brandon has to get up at 6 am every morning to make sure his no-good help cleans up their job sites 8.) that we haven't got paid yet 9.) that being self employed isn't always fun 10.) that the bank has my paperwork still messed up on my car 11.) that Brandon's phone rings at approximately every 6th word I say to him.

I think that's about it. That I can remember, because, remember, I'm trying to forget them.

And so now I think I will go to bed, because we have church in the morning, and I need to pray and ask the Lord to erase my brain so that I can sleep good tonight. Ever just want the Lord to proof read and edit your noggin'? I do. I would like to forget things, and just have peace about all the things that keep popping up and slapping us in the face. I would love to be at peace about all 11 of the above listed aggravations. I would like to smile each time I read them, or think about them, or try not to think about them. 

So....until then, I'll be laying myself out to be edited and proof read by the Master, and perhaps He will work a miracle on my noggin and it will connect to my heart and there will be peace in the midst of the storm for me.

Yes. Dontcha love a good metaphor?

I hope ya'll have a blessed Sunday, and Monday, and Tuesday and however many days before I come back and tell you more about how just splentastic my week has gone. 

-LeAnna