Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Painting and a Poser

Thursday Stern announced that we would be painting the outside of the house over Memorial weekend. After all, the paint was on sale. So, why not?


Chubbers dipped everything she could see into the thick bucket of paint.
 A two-year-old's dream come true!


It's taken years to grow our own paint crew. 

Rolling on the paint lasted two hours on Friday evening. First thing Saturday morning Stern secured himself a paint sprayer on craigslist and the "real" painting began.
I think we were pretty messy helpers. We spilled, painted each other, and were a down-right nuisance to this hard-working guy.


This little gal worked hard making her messes and had to take a Spanish pause in the sunshine.

Do you think I have any idea how to paint a house?

No.

Do I have any idea how to grow and maintain a farm... I mean, garden?

No.

Do I have any idea how to raise chickens, butcher a pig, or even train a dog?

No.

Do I know how to prune 32 apple trees or cut back raspberries?

No.

I finally made this revelation to my husband on Sunday night:

I am a poser.
As if he didn't already know this...

I always dreamed of being a cowgirl ~ brave and strong. Some of my favorite memories as a girl are spending time at my grandparent's farm pretending I was a farm girl. I wanted to marry a cowboy and eat farm breakfasts everyday. I wanted to ride horses, feed my farm animals, and grow my own food. When I read "These is my Words: The Diary of Sarah Agnes Prine, 1881-1901 Arizona Terratories," I just knew that was me way deep down inside.

Really, I have no idea what the heck I'm doing!

Nothing. Seriously nothing, comes natural to me. Being a farm-girl is the opposite of everything I know and how I was raised. It's like playing house.

I sit back, take lots of pictures, and pinch myself because I can't believe this is the life I live.

How did I ever get so lucky ~ or bamboozle Stern into asking me to marry him?

Oh yeah... I was a poser.

When we met I wore painted on Rocky Mountain jeans (that had never sat on a horse) with my Ropers (that had never stepped in a cow pie) when we went country dancing.

I was official ~ or maybe he saw potential.

While I try to learn I will continue to bathe  my eternally dirty children, sweep the endless dirt tracked in my house, and keep cooking huge meals for these incredibly big eaters.

I am a lucky woman!