Such a change! It is so good to see her smiling again...
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
A Party, A Funeral, And A Broken Leg
We had an interesting weekend at Chickadee Lane Lodge. We started out on Friday afternoon with a double birthday party for two happy girls (imagine 13 screaming, giggling and excited young ladies and you get the picture). We then segued to a funeral two hours away on Saturday morning.
After the funeral, we all headed back to a nearby relative's home and the cousins all ditched their church clothes for play clothes, headed to the playground, and next thing we knew we were rushing one of our Little Cherubs to the nearest available hospital that could treat her two hours away with a nasty spiral fracture from a tangle with a long metal slide. My poor, poor baby. It was a rough time for her but she was such a trouper and we were able to find a wonderful, fabulous doctor to take her on as a patient on Monday. Our hearts are much calmer now and we are sure our little pumpkin will make a good recovery now that she is under such expert care of the loving staff at Dr. Orson's office at Meritcare Clinic of Fargo. What a blessing they have been to us.
So very thankful,
Chickadee
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Glamour Shot...
I really prefer high heels and sparkle but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
And those steel-toed work boots really do make a statement, don't you think?
I thought about wearing my tiara to balance the whole ensemble while I tilled but thought it might be a bit too much. Maybe next time.
:)
xoxo,
Chickadee
Spring Rain...
One of my favorite sounds in the world is the patter of raindrops on the roof. I love to think about how my gardens are soaking it all up and are turning lush and green. And of course a rainy day is the perfect time to remind myself how very thankful and blessed I am to live in such a beautiful setting and home. God has been so good to me! I am still in awe of how He brought us here. When our home burned down three years ago, I would have never thought we would wind up at Chickadee Lane Lodge. But here we are and I am so thankful, every day.
Here's hoping you too are warm, dry and cozy in your own special nest on a cold wet day.
xoxo,
Chickadee
Sunday, May 10, 2009
One Lone Tulip...
For some reason there is one and only one tulip on the grounds at Chickadee Lane Lodge. It was here when we bought the place, and still blooms brave, strong and tall.I need to plant some more and it is on the to-do list for this fall.
Wishing you tulip dreams and butterfly kisses!
xoxo,
Chickadee
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Silent Observer & Finishing Up The Field...
That little dot of red? It's one of the Little Cherubs, who upon waking up on a Saturday morning, couldn't find Mom or Dad. She followed her ears to the field, where Mr. Chickadee was finishing up the last of the tilling with the noisy John Deere rental tractor.
In her bathrobe, no less!xoxo,
Chickadee
Friday, May 8, 2009
My Idea Of A Garden...
It's a little on the large size. (Around two acres). We also have two small gardens up by the Lodge. But we need a lot of room to have our market gardens.
That puny green thing is the trusty John Deere tractor we rent with Mr. Chickadee freezing to death on it. This isn't like last year when we rented it and had a lovely warm day to play in the dirt. Today is so cold. But when you are a farmer, even on a tiny scale such as this, you can't wait around until you are comfortable.
I love it when the ground is all tilled and ready to go. We are hoping for another banner year of crops, with some more peas gone wild, or even more gorgeous tomato avenues.Or some just plain, beautiful house gardens.
I can hardly wait. But in the meantime, I am back inside. It is FREEZING out and Mr. Chickadee, gentleman that he is, insists on being the one to turn to a frigid block of ice on the tractor today even though he is sick as a dog.
Thanks, honey.
xoxo,
Chickadee
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
I Wonder...
...will this finally be the year I don't kill off my hanging baskets of flowers?It is a little humiliating to be the kind of woman who can successfully grow acres of food (with a lot of help from God and family), but who will always, always, always manage to kill every single hanging planter of flowers she has ever had.
Every single time.
It's a knack, I guess.
xoxo,
Chickadee
Monday, May 4, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Welcome Summer Lake Season 2009!
The first lake sunset shots of the new season! My heart is so happy to see open water again after the last of the ice submerged yesterday. What a welcome blessing after a long harsh winter. May you feel the blessing of spring inside you as well!
xoxo,
Chickadee
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
New Beginnings!
There is something so invigorating about new plant growth when it appears in the spring. After our long hard winters, it seems the spirit just cries out for color. God complies, sending us shocking vivid hues that soothe away the drab neutrals and jazz us fully awake and alive.A burst of energy ensues, and you can almost hear Him saying "Awake, arise! A new day has dawned and the possibilities are endless!"
Alleluia!
xoxo,
Chickadee
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Little Darlin'...
These little sweeties that Chickadee Lane Lodge are named after can be a little tough to catch in a photo shoot. I was so thrilled to get a shot of this adorable little tweeter.Bless you birdie!
xoxo,
Chickadee
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Just Another Adventure....
Some people go looking for trouble and some people have trouble come find them.
Somehow, life has dictated that I be one of the latter. I am not sure if it has anything to do with the fact that I view each day as a grand adventure waiting to happen (because it is!) or if I am just one of those people. I just know that somehow trouble finds me anyway and I often don't even have to leave home to get into it.
Take today for example. I got all ready for a big trip to town.
I had a list. I had an agenda. I was a woman on a mission.
Until I shot out the door and saw my vehicle. Oh yeah. Rearing to a sudden stop (I tend to move pretty fast), I debated the situation.
Hmm...
The other day we had a lovely, spring-like day. The temperature marched its way up to 46 degrees. The sun smiled merrily away in the sky and I was in heaven. The massive amounts of snow we have received this winter began their slow melt. Water ran like a river, straight down our concrete driveway and pooled around my parked vehicle that I had neglected to put away in the garage.
It was great!
Except for the fact that the very next day we had a return to our colder, normal temperatures and my truck wound up being frozen into place. Whoops. You have heard of being land-locked? Well, I was ice-locked. Tight as could be, with another lovely spring thaw day today creating a veritable lake around my vehicle. Three or four inches of solid ice, underneath a covering of four or five inches of icy, slushy dirty water.
Shoot.
Pondering my options, I shrugged my shoulders. How bad could it possibly be?
Hooking my purse around my neck so I could balance with my arms, I daintily set out on my journey to traverse the lake that lay between me and my truck. Hopping and gingerly tiptoeing onto mini-icebergs peeking through the water, I somehow managed to make it to my vehicle without landing on my butt and getting drenched (thank you Lord!), and hopped in. Perfect! Starting it up, I immediately switched into four wheel drive and gave a cautious try. Tires squealed. Vehicle lurched. I got nowhere.
Hmm.
Getting back out of my vehicle, I again navigated the frozen slush and pondered my options.Okay.
Making a decision, I headed for the garage to see what types of lumber we had on hand. Not a lot. Major digging only uncovered two measly little 1 x 4's. Would they be adequate? Probably not. But not having any other visible options, I brightened up and grabbed them anyway. You never knew what would work. Carrying them back out to my truck, I meticulously placed them as tightly as I could behind the rear tires. Taking my time, I put a lot of thought into my efforts. There. That should do it.
Hopping back into my truck, I put it in reverse, hit the gas and watched with wide eyes in complete amazement as the two 1 by 4's became impressive missiles that went shooting underneath the truck and out the front end like bullets before landing harmlessly on my front deck.
Whoa.
Being eternally gratefully that my husband was not around to see this and fervently hoping I didn't wreck anything, I shut down the motor and hopped out once again to debate my predicament.
Hmm...
An idea! Grabbing an axe out of the garage, I made my way back to the truck. Swinging carefully, I tried to chop the ice out without getting wet. Didn't work. I instantly sprayed myself head to toe with icy cold, slushy, dirty snow-water. Gasping, I staggered back and reevaluated things.
By now my jeans were soaked halfway up my knees, and my boots were starting to seep little bits of water through the seams. Of course they were. They were made for riding horses, not navigating the Arctic ice pack.
Okay, things were getting serious at this point. I am not one to give up easily, and I dearly love a challenge. Besides, I really needed to get to town. Going back into my house, I called my 13 year old dear son to come out and help me. He came out, watched me for a second, started laughing hysterically and went back inside.
So much for help.
Fine. I would do it myself. I would deal with him later.
Grabbing another shovel, I started pounding away at the ice. To heck with getting wet. At this point it was irrelevant anyway. Icy water spraying every which way, I chopped and shoveled, and shoveled and chopped. I got a bucket and started scooping away the upper level of water to be able to see what was going on below. At intervals, I jumped back into my vehicle and tried to move it. Nope.
In near hysterical laughter I shouted at an uncaring sky "This is RIDICULOUS!!! I am a prisoner in my own driveway!!!".
Then suddenly realizing too late how comical all this must look, I wheeled around to see if the neighbors have set up their lawn chairs on their porch by now to watch the show. Phew. Coast was clear.
Then I heard my cell phone ring from the front of my truck.
It's Mr. Chickadee telling me he will be home in the middle of the night. Fine. He asks how everything is. I tell him but prudently leave out the lumber portion of the story. He is on a need-to-know basis only, and he doesn't need to know about that. He casually says, "Yes, I thought that you might be stuck when I left for work. Honey, just go grab the bag of rock salt from the basement and sprinkle some around each tire. You can drive right out no problem."
Okay, I will try it, I say.
But I am dubious. Hmm. Well, it can't hurt. But what he doesn't know is that there is a lake around each tire. I shrug my shoulders again and decide to try anyway.
Running back to the house and down the basement stairs to retrieve the salt, I encountered my kiddos who innocently said "oh, Mom, you're back already?". Ignoring them and grabbing the bag of salt, I headed back out and do as hubby said. I said a little prayer, hopped back into my truck and gave it a try. Whoosh!!!! Rock salt sprayed everything within sight. The truck goes nowhere.
That did it. Grabbing my shovel again, I went at it tooth and nail. Chopping and shoveling and scooping water, I worked like a wild woman. It was me against the elements. Sweat began to run down my back. My hair was falling out of place. I didn't care. I worked and worked and worked. This was it. It was all or nothing.
Tossing aside my shovels and ignoring the shards of lumber pathetically piled in pieces all around my vehicle, I jumped back inside it, fiercely tromped on the gas and darn near drove up onto my porch.
Hooray! It worked!!!
Smiling triumphantly, I backed out onto the grass, tooled around and drove off on my merry way.
Time elapsed: Two hours and thirty-three minutes of my life.
Long-term sense of satisfaction in my victory: Priceless.
Somehow, life has dictated that I be one of the latter. I am not sure if it has anything to do with the fact that I view each day as a grand adventure waiting to happen (because it is!) or if I am just one of those people. I just know that somehow trouble finds me anyway and I often don't even have to leave home to get into it.
Take today for example. I got all ready for a big trip to town.
I had a list. I had an agenda. I was a woman on a mission.
Until I shot out the door and saw my vehicle. Oh yeah. Rearing to a sudden stop (I tend to move pretty fast), I debated the situation.
Hmm...
The other day we had a lovely, spring-like day. The temperature marched its way up to 46 degrees. The sun smiled merrily away in the sky and I was in heaven. The massive amounts of snow we have received this winter began their slow melt. Water ran like a river, straight down our concrete driveway and pooled around my parked vehicle that I had neglected to put away in the garage.
It was great!
Except for the fact that the very next day we had a return to our colder, normal temperatures and my truck wound up being frozen into place. Whoops. You have heard of being land-locked? Well, I was ice-locked. Tight as could be, with another lovely spring thaw day today creating a veritable lake around my vehicle. Three or four inches of solid ice, underneath a covering of four or five inches of icy, slushy dirty water.
Shoot.
Pondering my options, I shrugged my shoulders. How bad could it possibly be?
Hooking my purse around my neck so I could balance with my arms, I daintily set out on my journey to traverse the lake that lay between me and my truck. Hopping and gingerly tiptoeing onto mini-icebergs peeking through the water, I somehow managed to make it to my vehicle without landing on my butt and getting drenched (thank you Lord!), and hopped in. Perfect! Starting it up, I immediately switched into four wheel drive and gave a cautious try. Tires squealed. Vehicle lurched. I got nowhere.
Hmm.
Getting back out of my vehicle, I again navigated the frozen slush and pondered my options.Okay.
Making a decision, I headed for the garage to see what types of lumber we had on hand. Not a lot. Major digging only uncovered two measly little 1 x 4's. Would they be adequate? Probably not. But not having any other visible options, I brightened up and grabbed them anyway. You never knew what would work. Carrying them back out to my truck, I meticulously placed them as tightly as I could behind the rear tires. Taking my time, I put a lot of thought into my efforts. There. That should do it.
Hopping back into my truck, I put it in reverse, hit the gas and watched with wide eyes in complete amazement as the two 1 by 4's became impressive missiles that went shooting underneath the truck and out the front end like bullets before landing harmlessly on my front deck.
Whoa.
Being eternally gratefully that my husband was not around to see this and fervently hoping I didn't wreck anything, I shut down the motor and hopped out once again to debate my predicament.
Hmm...
An idea! Grabbing an axe out of the garage, I made my way back to the truck. Swinging carefully, I tried to chop the ice out without getting wet. Didn't work. I instantly sprayed myself head to toe with icy cold, slushy, dirty snow-water. Gasping, I staggered back and reevaluated things.
By now my jeans were soaked halfway up my knees, and my boots were starting to seep little bits of water through the seams. Of course they were. They were made for riding horses, not navigating the Arctic ice pack.
Okay, things were getting serious at this point. I am not one to give up easily, and I dearly love a challenge. Besides, I really needed to get to town. Going back into my house, I called my 13 year old dear son to come out and help me. He came out, watched me for a second, started laughing hysterically and went back inside.
So much for help.
Fine. I would do it myself. I would deal with him later.
Grabbing another shovel, I started pounding away at the ice. To heck with getting wet. At this point it was irrelevant anyway. Icy water spraying every which way, I chopped and shoveled, and shoveled and chopped. I got a bucket and started scooping away the upper level of water to be able to see what was going on below. At intervals, I jumped back into my vehicle and tried to move it. Nope.
In near hysterical laughter I shouted at an uncaring sky "This is RIDICULOUS!!! I am a prisoner in my own driveway!!!".
Then suddenly realizing too late how comical all this must look, I wheeled around to see if the neighbors have set up their lawn chairs on their porch by now to watch the show. Phew. Coast was clear.
Then I heard my cell phone ring from the front of my truck.
It's Mr. Chickadee telling me he will be home in the middle of the night. Fine. He asks how everything is. I tell him but prudently leave out the lumber portion of the story. He is on a need-to-know basis only, and he doesn't need to know about that. He casually says, "Yes, I thought that you might be stuck when I left for work. Honey, just go grab the bag of rock salt from the basement and sprinkle some around each tire. You can drive right out no problem."
Okay, I will try it, I say.
But I am dubious. Hmm. Well, it can't hurt. But what he doesn't know is that there is a lake around each tire. I shrug my shoulders again and decide to try anyway.
Running back to the house and down the basement stairs to retrieve the salt, I encountered my kiddos who innocently said "oh, Mom, you're back already?". Ignoring them and grabbing the bag of salt, I headed back out and do as hubby said. I said a little prayer, hopped back into my truck and gave it a try. Whoosh!!!! Rock salt sprayed everything within sight. The truck goes nowhere.
That did it. Grabbing my shovel again, I went at it tooth and nail. Chopping and shoveling and scooping water, I worked like a wild woman. It was me against the elements. Sweat began to run down my back. My hair was falling out of place. I didn't care. I worked and worked and worked. This was it. It was all or nothing.
Tossing aside my shovels and ignoring the shards of lumber pathetically piled in pieces all around my vehicle, I jumped back inside it, fiercely tromped on the gas and darn near drove up onto my porch.
Hooray! It worked!!!
Smiling triumphantly, I backed out onto the grass, tooled around and drove off on my merry way.
Time elapsed: Two hours and thirty-three minutes of my life.
Long-term sense of satisfaction in my victory: Priceless.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Wise Guy...
Since the feathered ladies are really starting to crank up the Egg Production Line, I issued a directive to 13 year old dear son to make sure he marked the most recent eggs collected.
What I meant was to mark the egg carton itself.
What I got instead was this:
Wise guy....:)
xoxo,
Chickadee
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