Broken People

Sigh. It seems our world is falling apart. let's break this up into small chewable pieces shall we?

• Dustan breaks his finger. Badly. it is still not healed.
  
• Our basement springs a leak. When we are trying to sell out house.
  
• Dustan's car breaks down. 600.00 later and it is fixed.
  
• A good friend accidentally rams his mini van (which was incidentally JUST repaired because of a previous accident (not his fault)) into our van.
  
• Our dryer breaks.
  
• our camping trip becomes a soggy mess, with hundreds of ticks and a case of poison ivy.
  
• our van begins to smoke like an old man addicted to cigars.
  
• Poor Esther. She broke her arm last night. Poor Esther. poor us.
  

She thinks she is a princess and she is bossing us around like crazy. What do you do for a bossy girl who broke her dominant arm which is now strapped down flat against her body?
You buy her presents. Of course.

Which she can't open. Of course. This will tick her off (which is slightly humorous, because Marcus found yet ANOTHER tick on his head).
But her brother will come to her rescue.

It is going to be a hard few weeks for us. Hopefully she will adjust quickly, because right now, she is driving us all bat crazy. She can't play with any of her toys. No legos. No Leapster. No Webkinz. Life stinks for Esther. She can't even unzip her pants or eat with a fork. Like stinks for us to, as she calls on us to fulfill her every wish and command. She was already a monster. This is going to make her worse.

PS. I made bullets. Heehee. Sometimes I just have to pat myself on the back.

Toasty Toes: At Camp

Little known fact: THe name of my blog came from a camping trip. It's true. I am well known for burning myself every single time I try to cook. Well. Once, at camp, I was cooking barefoot...
not a good idea. Anyhow, I burned my toes, and hence my nickname- toasty toes. Every year, I take that same trip. Same spot, Same friends. We adore it, and long for it each time it rolls around. I am already finding myself thinking of next year.

Only, next year, we will likely be a million miles away and my friends will be telling stories around a campfire- without me. I savored this year. Every second, every smell, every laugh, every diet dr pepper. Every RAINDROP, LIGHTENING STRIKE, AND THUNDERCLAP. It was a very wet trip.

and yet we found time for fun. We found several geo caches out in the middle of the woods. Tick territory. The ticks were angry at us for invading their sanctuary and took revenge by sucking our blood. We stopped counting ticks- oh, somewhere around fifty. But we had eleven kids, so divide that up...

Oh, the cuteness of the kids. I don't have permission to post pictures of other people's babies, so I tease you with this picture of baby Oak. Okie dokey to his friends. He loves me. His cup says so.

I hope your memorial weekend was as memorable as mine. Minus the the panicy trips to a covered shelter, tick picking, and midnight runs to an insect-owned bathhouse. including of course, a million verses of Fried Ham-Fried Ham, stories in the round that start with a princess and end with everyone dead, and always, always in which Darth Vador must make an appearance (and who, I guess, loves to give wet willies via the force). Also including laughter, hugs, smiles, and the twinkle of your child's eyes as the discover the beauty of God's world.

Toasty Toes News

Actually there is no news. The house has only shown twice and no one wants it. Except me. I love it. Despite the deep cleaning (even the ceiling fans), prettying up the bathrooms, and putting out fresh flowers, no one cares to buy my home.

In other news, I am going camping today. To my favorite place, with my favorite friends. We had planned an adventure, but gas is keeping us close to home, which is fine, because I love our little camping spot.


So, are you bored yet? So am I. I am waiting for a gazillion pictures to load from my camera. All taken at Weston's karate tournament, in which Weston placed third in both events. Don;t get too excited, he was third out of three competitors. And he was disqualified after the sparring match! Wait. Don't get excited again. He was disqualified because the judge noticed he wasn't wearing a mouth guard. His evil mother didn't bother to make sure it was in the bag. He still hasn't forgiven me. Which is a shame, because I easily forgave him when he used crayolas on all my windows,

I created

She likes it


But she likes this get up better.


(I am not sure what the pattern is. I moved all my sewing supplies over to a friend's house and can't just run upstairs to look anymore.)

Someone else's house

I have been busy. Way to busy to blog, but I owe some family members some pictures, and so, as I sit, in someone else's house waiting our first showing, I will update a bit. These pictures are horrible, and I am ashamed to post them because they are so grainy. THat is what I get for taking them at 5 in the morning.
Anyhow, all my stuff is gone. The house isn't much mine anymore. There isn't much left that says "this home belongs to that crazy lady, with crazy taste". Which is the point, I guess.
The house does now, rather resemble the personality of Dustan- who states that he would like very much to live like this forever. Ugh. Man. But men like him buy homes, which I am banking on. And praying for.

Thanks mom. And Lindsey. And Renee. And Jesse. And Dwight. For all the hard work you put into this.