Cowpokes and Parade Floats

Time for the small town parade again!

Since our town is a 'dry town' and chock full of fundamental Baptists...

I thought it only fitting to do a Cowpokes, Saloon and card-playing float. 

Because I'm feisty like that. 

The good Lord gave us good things to enjoy, offering Himself up to us in remembrance and as a means of grace through wine, after all.  

We invited some of our favorite cowpokes from another hill to join us this year.  

The parade is to benefit the Firemen and local Fire Company so there were plenty of fire trucks on display.  But only ONE float.

A-hem.  That'd be us.  

We chose the simplest theme that required the least amount of work and the most amount of junk we all had lying around to make this years' float the most low-key and relaxing of all.  

But the end result was pretty great, ifIdosaysomyself.

We even made it into the paper!  

(Which, sadly, I was never able to get a hard copy of.)

Here's the pictures corralled into a post for ya...

see what I did there?

A buncha sinners playing UNO

Looks like a little saloon girl might be allergic to the hay.  

At least she is polite about it.

I tried to make sure to get a picture of everyone all decked out...but turns out this is the best there is of Adele.  

A very impressive prairie bun.  I'll give her that!  

Planning on this picture being on a wedding slideshow someday.  ;-)

The best parade-floater of the bunch.  

Skylark waved and shouted long, cowboy drawls of welcome the entire way through town.  

"Haaaaaaaaaaaa" "Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"

The cool kids camped out the night before on the trampoline.

What a tease!  

Seriously- I can't get over this face:

Skeeter was pretty upset that he wasn't included in the parade since horses, after all, are an essential part of cowpoking.

We let him pretend, for a minute, that he was a *real* horse.  That seemed to appease him.  Or maybe it was just the weight of the saddle... he realized it ain't all it is cracked up to be.  ;-)

And one last hot-doggie, for good measure...

Whoooo-wheeeeee boy.

Yarn Along and Other Bits

 

I was brave enough to start a sunsuit at the gestational diabetes 3 hour test but I got hung up on the first direction (whether to cut the yarn or work from the held stitches) so I had to put it away after just a bit.  Because of that I really didn't get a whole lot done in the three hours I was sitting at the hospital.  Thankfully,  I had brought The Gospel Comes With a Housekey so I finished that book while I waited. I am not sure, knowing how slow I am at knitting, if I can get this thing done in the nine remaining weeks of pregnancy but I will give it a go.  I saw this gorgeous romper on Amazon and am going to try to recreate it using the Lesley Sunsuit pattern and a crocheted granny square front.  That granny square might be my saving grace-  I can whip those out in no time! 

As for the test, I failed.  I am a failure.  I am now officially required to self-stab myself four times daily in order to test blood sugars.  But (you are gonna laugh!) I don't think I have gestational diabetes.  Here me out!  All of my numbers have been excellent ever since I have been taking them and I have made no dietary changes whatsoever.  My theory is- I have avoided eating too many carbs for almost two years now and avoided sugar treats almost entirely (there have been some cheats, of course, but they were cheats and not part of my daily diet) and I sweeten all drinks with stevia.  I think my body was like "WOAH!  What is this 100g of sugar drink coming down the pike?!?!" And then it went into overdrive-spiked and then plummeted into the 50's because my pancreas was working so well to deal with it.  But that's just my guess.  In any case, if I followed the advice of the nutritionist and dietitian (in a class that took another 3 hours at the hospital), I am pretty sure I would gain quite a bit of weight because she is essentially doubling (or even tripling!) my carb intake- even if it is in 'whole wheat form'.  So- lesson learned.  If ever I am pregnant again, I will refuse to take the 3 hour glucose test and instead offer to test my sugars after every meal to prove that everything is a-ok.  I don't like poking myself but it is kinda cool to see how good my sugar levels are all the time. 

I started reading Corrie Ten Boom's The Hiding Place this week which I am fairly certain I read as a new teenager but have forgotten most of.  I have been enjoying it way too late at night but I can't seem to put it down.  I regret not having read it before my trip to Holland last year because it speaks of so many places I visited unknowingly.  It would have been nice, being so close, to actually visit her father's watch shop or find the building in the Hague where she and her family were taken.  Even still, knowing and having seen these towns and the Dutch people and the narrow staircases make this book come alive even more to me.

Also pictured: 

* A friends' 50th birthday gift whipped out.  I think these canvas bags are super handy to have.  And it was fun to personalize with some acrylic paint. * Andrew makes an Indian Longhouse from twigs. * The cherry tree adds a couple more cherries every year.  It should produce enough to eat heartily by the time I am 90.  * Corynn cheers me up with a beautiful keto sugar-free dessert roll after my results came back and I was superdepressed.  * cheese-making * abundant herbs around the stone patio and right outside the kitchen door * always dishes * Andrew goes on a sunset walk and meets a hawk * blooming flower circle * Ineke gets her very own 'Cricket' with some vacation money from Grandma and Grandpa.  I am not the 'buy something for the sake of buying something' type, so Ineke's bill stayed in my purse.  UNTIL, that is, we went grocery shopping at the very vacationy local Walmart and found an incredibly lifelike newborn doll  who happened to be the SAME SIZE as Mama's Cricket in the womb.  She is loving him.  And I think it is a great way to put things into perspective for the children.  So- our society says that's not a baby in there, eh?  * It's pretty amazing to think I have a baby that big in my belly (actually bigger by a few weeks at this point).  Can't wait!

crafting on and yarning along

Cricket's not a cricket: A banging gender reveal

All throughout this pregnancy, Matt has been SO SURE that Cricket is a boy that I was beginning to wonder if he might be disappointed if the baby turned out to be a girl.  I dunno, maybe it was when we had a conversation that went something like this:

The Mister (after every reference to Cricket ever made...): "Cricket is a boy."  

Me, finally addressing the baby elephant in the room: "You know, Mattie, there is a 50/50 chance that this child is a girl.  And if it is- what are you going to do about that?!?"

The Mister, very matter-of-factly:  "Why, we'll put her up for adoption."

Okay.  So you have to know that Matt is kinda hilarious like that- I am pretty sure he wouldn't put his own daughter up for adoption (I think!) but STILL.

I began to suspect that it might be wise to forego the tradition of not-finding out the gender this go-round in order to give him an opportunity to warm up to the fact that he was having a girl, should that be necessary.

So we found out!  Or, at least, *I* found out.  And as soon as I found out, well, then I knew.  Sounds crazy, I know, but it was a weird sort of sadness- not needing to anticipate and wonder anymore.  I decided at that appointment that in order to keep some of the extra anticipation and excitement around, I would tell everyone in a super secret, special sort of way.  But a girl can only keep a secret from EVERY.SINGLE.PRYING.PERSON for so long so a week later we invited family over to a gender reveal party.

(Despite the fact that when someone from Matt's work found out, they said we are too old to have a gender reveal party!  whaaha haha.)

I chose a way that would speak to Matt's heart in a very special way.  By blowing something up.

I can now add bomb-maker to my list of credentials.  (Chill out FBI... gender reveal bombs are a thing nowadays.  Don't add me to some watch list.  Pleaseandthankyou.)

Tannerite (I am girl.  I don't know what tannerite is or how it works.  I just know it somehow goes BOOM!) mixed with a ton of chalk powder and you have yourself a fancy shmancy gender reveal with a bang!

Here are a few photos from that little geriatric shin-dig, mostly blurry and overexposed because I had my camera settings wrong throughout most of the party.

Whoops.

the invite

a million meringues

I had a taco bar-but you can't tell here since most of the food wasn't out at this point.

For posterity, not for clarity.

I hung up pictures of all our children, us and our parents.  Hilariously, Matt guessed every one of our children wrong!  In his defense- we do seem to only make one model.

 

This would be Cricket at 24ish weeks.

fuzzy favors

The Girl Side

The Boy Side- a bit fuller, I'd say.

The sharp shooter, ready for action.  He was too! He got it on the first shot!

And in real time:

When he's right.... he's right!  :-)