A New Address

I've moved over to:

www.thegirlinmuddyboots.com

Come join me there for new stories, recipes and DIY projects.

The move was necessary as the Blogger app was no longer iPad compatible.  It was the perfect time for a name update and fresh, new look, too.

I hope to see you on the new site!

Thanks,
Amy

World Down Syndrome Day, 3/21

3/21 is Down Syndrome Day.  Down Syndrome, aka, Trisomy 21, meaning when those tiny gametes met to create a zygote -- there was an extra chromosome 21 -- and that little zygote grew up to be our adorable miracle: Grant.  

So, he's just like the rest of us, except he has an extra chromosome.  It can make some things harder for him, like speech and fine motor skills -- but it also makes him pretty darn special; anyone who has ever been lucky enough to feel his hug knows exactly what I'm talking about.  He is patient, kind, loving and so stinking funny that he keeps us all giggling.  His connection with animals is infinitely deep, so much that it feels spiritual.  His tolerance of others is one I envy.  He teaches us new life lessons every single day and we are all better and wiser humans for it.

I'm so utterly humbled by and grateful for this little man that I can hardly go a day without seeing him.  He's my nephew, my little buddy, my helper and my backseat co-pilot and I can't imagine a life without him. ❤

The Crimson Sunset

1 shot of Fireball
1 shot of Vanilla Bean Vodka
Peach nectar and a
Drizzle of grenadine

Over ice, in the perfect glass, during a beautiful sunset over my favorite mountains.  I'd add some muddled mint but the dog peed on the bushes and some things just can't be unseen no matter how long ago or how many times you wash them.

If it's too sweet for your tastebuds, try adding it to iced tea.

Is it Time for Coffee or Wine?

The deer have been into the trees, the dogs have been into the flower beds, frost in the garden and moles in the lawn. The sink is overflowing with dirty dishes, the laundry room bulging at the seams and I'm pretty sure those are dust bunnies in the hall but let's be honest, they may be actual bunnies. The dogs have gone feral, the chickens are giving me stink-eye with some very unpleasant cackles and I think my house plants are picking up their roots and attempting to move out.

I think Jeff still lives here but between John Deere, the restaurant, the farm and my crazy hours; I don't think we've been awake, or even asleep, and in the same room for nearly 2 weeks.

THIS. This is why I'm so thankful I don't pull overtime shifts very often and get to work part time. Balance is everything.

Now to go cut off a slice of that big, bad, buck sausage and toast to next hunting season. I've had 12 hours of sleep since Sunday and I've lost my patience. #DontEatMyTreesOrWeEatYou, #WhatDayIsIt, #IsItTimeForCoffeeOrWine

Five Kids, One Auntie and NO Wipes

If you can handle caring for a dementia patient sundowning, an ETOH patient in withdrawal, while hanging a cardiac drip on an unstable arrhythmia patient all at the same time -- you can take on a niece and four nephews at the hotel alone...

At least until your sister sends you on a scavenger hunt at IKEA, on a Sunday, for a table you've never seen, with the 5 children, one who dirties his pull-up and all of them suddenly "starving" -- then I suggest bringing back up, because unless you've managed a pack of velociraptors on your own -- you have no idea what you are setting yourself up for.

I'm pretty sure she just punked me. Even the cashier laughed until she had tears in her eyes.

#WhereWereTheCameras
#WhatDoYouMeanTheWipesAreGone
#TheyLookSoSweet
#AliveAndNotLost
#StillSmiling

Know When to Walk Away

I started my day attempting to renew the boat registration.  It's all online now.  You need an account to log in but our boat isn't associated with an account so I can't renew it. Forty minutes of frustration that needs a Mon-Fri, 9-5 follow up phone call to Salem -- epic fail.

So I dig out the roto-tiller to go burn off some frustration and out of the 8 yellow diesel containers actually full of ethanol free gasoline, (talk to Jeff - you all know I'm a color coded rule follower), I fill the tank with the only can of diesel we have on the property.  Yes - I caught it BUT until you've syphoned diesel out of a gas tank in 90 degree weather - you have no idea how bad that sucks.

By now, I'm pretty freakin' hot and cranky.  I take to the yard to patch all the vole trails carved into once beautiful lawn...  They burrow into the roots and leave ugly dead paths that need to be raked up, leveled and reseeded.  It's not fun work but it has to be done.

I'm crawling around the yard on my hands and knees patching things up - and what do I see in the lawn next to me but a (SCREAM!!!!!) snake...  Jeff grabs for his gun, I grab my itty bitty yard rake, I'm yelling at Jeff to kill it but not to shoot (the hot tub was too close).  It slithers away in the chaos and reappears just as I get ready to move the sprinkler then retreats UNDER THE DECK (gulp).

It gets worse.  It's a rubber boa - harmless to humans (supposedly) and get what it eats -- yard trashing voles...  Dang.  For someone who believes that the only good snake is a dead snake -- this is a pickle of a situation, indeed.

I'm giving up on this day, mixing cocktails on the deck and getting use to the idea that Herb, the vole eating snake, and I can somehow coexist.  Jeff is still somewhere in the shop bellylaughing his ass off.  I'll give him this one - because if it had been a rattlesnake, we'd be moving right now.

Know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run - and know when to pour a drink.

#ComeVisit
#BringIce
#WearSnakeBoots

Not All Sunsets and Fine Wine

My house plants are wilted and begging for water, laundry is piled waist high, clutter has overtaken every flat surface available, the refrigerator is home to new species of funk never meant to be edible and if I don't remember to order contacts tomorrow, I will soon be walking around without the gift of sight.  

My immune system is fighting valiantly to overcome the last viral assault launched my direction by a patient that actually PULLED DOWN HER MASK, turned towards me and coughed.  (Yep. Turns out "mask wearing" is a special skill not all are qualified for).  My body knows when to call uncle and retreat into a mini coma, which is how I've spent the last few days. You know I'm sick when my husband seeks refuge in the guest room and sends the dog in to sleep next to me.  It's the equivalent of sending a parakeet in with the miners down the mine shaft.  "If the dog's okay, she's okay."

I picked up too many shifts this month and these are the consequences. Everything is dirty, undone, dying or neglected.  Life has been shrunk down to a world that can be summed up in 3 words: work, sleep, repeat. Every minute is accounted for, every moment assigned.

Yet -- in the midst of the chaos, there is a level of validation that helps me find my smile.  There's a certain satisfaction in knowing that I can still keep up with the big dogs at work.  I may not eat, sleep and dream emergency nursing like I once did - but I haven't lost my touch, either.

And in an odd way, it's nice to know that things fall apart at home without me.  The dogs forget their manners, the goats lose their ever livin' minds, the chickens nearly starve to death (they won't come out of hiding even to eat for fear of running into a half-crazed goat) and my husband is counting down the days until he gets his wife (and clean laundry) back.  It's proof that, in some small way, my existence really does make a difference -- and that's enough for me.

To the rest of you nightshift working, family raising, full time nurses out there: You are ahhhh - mazing!!!  I promise to never judge your messy house, empty frig, the fact you fell asleep during your child's last dance recital or that time you wore two different shoes to work.

In all honesty, I hide from the goats, too.  If they see me, they start screaming at me to come play with them and don't stop until I do.  Goats are acutely alert and freakishly smart.  They know I put my eye contacts in every day and keep an eye through the window so they know when to start yelling for attention -- yes, EVERY single day.