Rockin' at The Rubows.
Making memories one day at a time.......and then I write about it.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
Why yes, I am bragging!
The e-mail was sent two nights ago after all were in bed asleep. Yesterday the Internet was down and a busy morning with end of year school stuff. By the time I got the e-mail, it was closer to noon of yesterday.
With all of the rain we've been getting and the snow pack that is still yet to melt, we are flooding all over the state of UT. As we have watched the river get higher and higher we've kept our fingers crossed that some how, a miracle would happen and it wouldn't swell it's banks.
The e-mail. A friend's husband is out of the country, she is leaving in two days, she's just been told by the city that the area where she keeps her horses (where The Native's take horse riding lessons) is going to be under water. Sand bags need to be filled. LOTS of sand bags need to be filled and put all around the hay and tack sheds. How in the world is she going to do this herself with three young children. Could any of us possibly come and help.
When you get an e-mail like this, you drop everything, you grab a task force (The Native's) and you run. It was Mr. B's last day of school. Early out. He and his friends were going to spend the day going to the movies and what not. I called and asked if Mr. B and his friends would be willing to come and help. Sure! No problem! Filling sand bags, tromping through knee deep horse manure was exactly how they wanted to spend their day instead of playing.
We arrived out at the pasture at 1:15 PM. Mr. T, Mr. C. Mr. B and his four muscly teenage friends. We worked for 45 minutes until Mr. B and his friends had to run to the movies. They'd already bought their tickets before I'd sent the cry for help. In that 45 minutes, they'd filled and stacked about 100 sand bags. One time around the sheds.
I had to run to the school to see Miss K's talent for the fourth grade talent show. I left Mr. T and Mr. C out at the pasture with Kristen and literally ran into the school all the while noticing that I had horse manure smeared on my hands and feet. Nice. I sat in the back of the room. The WAY back of the room.
Talent show over I grabbed Miss K and her brothers Mr. L and Mr. M and we headed back out to the pasture where we spent the next 4 or more hours sand bagging.
Mind you, Mr. T and Mr. C had been there for several hours already.
Here's the incredible thing. In raising these boys, I've worried that living in town, I wouldn't be able to teach them how to work. Really work. And not only to work hard but to appreciate and enjoy working hard. Yesterday, watching these boys with weariness etched all over their faces and bodies continue to laugh and joke the entire time, never complaining, I was proud. Extremely proud.
Mr. M who is twelve (and a small 12 at that) was shoveling bag after bag full of sand. His arms were hurting. I kept asking him if he wanted to switch. Hold the bag while I filled. Nope he said. He wasn't going to quit until the job was done.
Mr. C and Mr. T who hauled bag after bag..... I kept wondering how much longer they could go on. On they went. These bags are 40-50 pounds of wet sand.
Four hundred and fifty bags of sand. That is how many bags we filled and laid down. Geneva and her three small children were right in there. Think about it. Four hundred and fifty sand bags filled and stacked and here are the ages: 4,6,7,9,9,10,10,12,14,14,15 The majority of the sand bagging was done by these kids. Mr. B who is 17 and his friends did about 100-150. Geneva, Kristen, and I were the adults with The SM coming in to save us the last hour. I say save us, no one stopped though. Everyone worked until the last bag was filled and stacked.
Now THAT is worth something to brag about. In my not so humble opinion.
Oh! And photos..... yeah..... well....... I didn't take any because I was too busy standing in my flip flops with horse manure up to my ankles making the teenage boys who came with Mr. B disgusted. All I gotta say is, my feet and flip flops will clean easier and faster then their tennis shoes, socks, and jeans.
With all of the rain we've been getting and the snow pack that is still yet to melt, we are flooding all over the state of UT. As we have watched the river get higher and higher we've kept our fingers crossed that some how, a miracle would happen and it wouldn't swell it's banks.
The e-mail. A friend's husband is out of the country, she is leaving in two days, she's just been told by the city that the area where she keeps her horses (where The Native's take horse riding lessons) is going to be under water. Sand bags need to be filled. LOTS of sand bags need to be filled and put all around the hay and tack sheds. How in the world is she going to do this herself with three young children. Could any of us possibly come and help.
When you get an e-mail like this, you drop everything, you grab a task force (The Native's) and you run. It was Mr. B's last day of school. Early out. He and his friends were going to spend the day going to the movies and what not. I called and asked if Mr. B and his friends would be willing to come and help. Sure! No problem! Filling sand bags, tromping through knee deep horse manure was exactly how they wanted to spend their day instead of playing.
We arrived out at the pasture at 1:15 PM. Mr. T, Mr. C. Mr. B and his four muscly teenage friends. We worked for 45 minutes until Mr. B and his friends had to run to the movies. They'd already bought their tickets before I'd sent the cry for help. In that 45 minutes, they'd filled and stacked about 100 sand bags. One time around the sheds.
I had to run to the school to see Miss K's talent for the fourth grade talent show. I left Mr. T and Mr. C out at the pasture with Kristen and literally ran into the school all the while noticing that I had horse manure smeared on my hands and feet. Nice. I sat in the back of the room. The WAY back of the room.
Talent show over I grabbed Miss K and her brothers Mr. L and Mr. M and we headed back out to the pasture where we spent the next 4 or more hours sand bagging.
Mind you, Mr. T and Mr. C had been there for several hours already.
Here's the incredible thing. In raising these boys, I've worried that living in town, I wouldn't be able to teach them how to work. Really work. And not only to work hard but to appreciate and enjoy working hard. Yesterday, watching these boys with weariness etched all over their faces and bodies continue to laugh and joke the entire time, never complaining, I was proud. Extremely proud.
Mr. M who is twelve (and a small 12 at that) was shoveling bag after bag full of sand. His arms were hurting. I kept asking him if he wanted to switch. Hold the bag while I filled. Nope he said. He wasn't going to quit until the job was done.
Mr. C and Mr. T who hauled bag after bag..... I kept wondering how much longer they could go on. On they went. These bags are 40-50 pounds of wet sand.
Four hundred and fifty bags of sand. That is how many bags we filled and laid down. Geneva and her three small children were right in there. Think about it. Four hundred and fifty sand bags filled and stacked and here are the ages: 4,6,7,9,9,10,10,12,14,14,15 The majority of the sand bagging was done by these kids. Mr. B who is 17 and his friends did about 100-150. Geneva, Kristen, and I were the adults with The SM coming in to save us the last hour. I say save us, no one stopped though. Everyone worked until the last bag was filled and stacked.
Now THAT is worth something to brag about. In my not so humble opinion.
Oh! And photos..... yeah..... well....... I didn't take any because I was too busy standing in my flip flops with horse manure up to my ankles making the teenage boys who came with Mr. B disgusted. All I gotta say is, my feet and flip flops will clean easier and faster then their tennis shoes, socks, and jeans.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Appearances
It would appear that I am not reading blogs and commenting when in fact, I am. Several blogs I am not able to comment on. I find this VERY frustrating and can't figure out why I can on some and why I can't on others.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Ready Aim Fire! Another rainy day activity.....
It's raining........ still.......
Old cardboard boxes + creative older brothers = hours of fun pretending to blow up everything with a tank
Old cardboard boxes + creative older brothers = hours of fun pretending to blow up everything with a tank
Monday, May 23, 2011
Oh Flarp!
Having a son with special needs has led us on an interesting search for those items which he will think are stimulating. Items which he can play with that will stretch his mind, help him to be able to focus better, and well...... entertain.
Little did we know when we came across Flarp, just how entertaining that would be. Do you remember the days of the whoopie cushion? Flarp is the whoopie cushion times sixty.
It's gooey, Levi likes the texture, and most importantly, Levi likes the sound.
A few years ago, I took Levi to a horsemanship clinic with me. We sat in the bleachers along with a bag full of goodies to keep him entertained. I'd found some Flarp not knowing what it was. I thought it was just some gooey fun slimy stuff that he'd enjoy holding in his hands.
We're sitting in the bleachers with people all around when all of a sudden I hear this noise that would make anyone go red in the face and start to hold their nose wondering who'd messed their britches!
Levi and I were off a bit by ourselves and he was playing with this stuff where others really couldn't see it. People probably thought it was me and my red face a dead give away! I tried to be the lady and ignore and focus on what was being taught but being the mature adult that I am, I'd start to giggle and then I'd straighten up and get a hold of myself only to have Levi make the Flarp rip another that sent me into another fit of giggles......
The SM recently bought Levi another container of Flarp. Levi's four older brothers spent a good half hour last night howling with laughter as Levi kept making the Flarp........ well......... FLARP! I could not get over how immature they were behaving! I mean, come on. The first time I'll allow a giggle. The second time...... maybe......... but a half hours worth?
What is so funny about bodily noises? And why in the world would it compel a full grown mother to walk in the kitchen where her teenage sons are bent over with laughter and join them is beyond me.......
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Indexing
On days when I can't do much of anything but lay around, it is hard to feel helpful in anyway to society. A few years ago, I was introduced to Indexing. What is Indexing? Basically, it is where you help record world wide records such as census, birth, marriage, death reports, etc.
Last night I recorded a batch of fifty names that were from the early 1900's. A census report from Indiana, USA. I get a kick out of recording the married couples ages. Apparently back then, they weren't as wrapped up in age as we are today!
For those who are interested in their family history, a lot of times they look to these records to find their ancestors. When we Index them, they are made available on the web. How cool is that? There are hundreds and hundreds of folks like you and me sitting at their computers everyday Indexing. Trying to get these reports published so we can find our ancestors.
Wanna do a test drive? Here is a link:
https://indexing.familysearch.org/newuser/testdrive/testdrive.jsf
Who knows, you might come across a name you recognize. A few weeks ago, I came across an Italian name and their immigration records to the USA. It was the same last name as some Italian neighbors of ours back in Montana while growing up. Makes me wonder if they are related........ Kind of fun!
Indexers are needed from all over the world. There are a lot of records out there that need recording. Do we get paid for this? No, not in monetary value, but it sure leaves me with a warm place in my heart knowing that maybe a name I typed might be the link someone is looking for in helping them to find their ancestors.
Last night I recorded a batch of fifty names that were from the early 1900's. A census report from Indiana, USA. I get a kick out of recording the married couples ages. Apparently back then, they weren't as wrapped up in age as we are today!
For those who are interested in their family history, a lot of times they look to these records to find their ancestors. When we Index them, they are made available on the web. How cool is that? There are hundreds and hundreds of folks like you and me sitting at their computers everyday Indexing. Trying to get these reports published so we can find our ancestors.
Wanna do a test drive? Here is a link:
https://indexing.familysearch.org/newuser/testdrive/testdrive.jsf
Who knows, you might come across a name you recognize. A few weeks ago, I came across an Italian name and their immigration records to the USA. It was the same last name as some Italian neighbors of ours back in Montana while growing up. Makes me wonder if they are related........ Kind of fun!
Indexers are needed from all over the world. There are a lot of records out there that need recording. Do we get paid for this? No, not in monetary value, but it sure leaves me with a warm place in my heart knowing that maybe a name I typed might be the link someone is looking for in helping them to find their ancestors.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Gratitude for Aspens
Dear Mamma,
I know. I've not been writing again which sets you to worrying. I keep thinking that tomorrow I'll feel better and I'll write a fabulous blog post to let you know that I'm up and at em' and all is well.
I'm like a wood chuck. I pop out of my hole and make a peep here and there when needed but quickly dive back down into my hole before some irritated hunter comes along and blows out my brains.
I'm sitting here in my recliner looking out the window. It is grey and overcast again. The wind is blowing. I can see the Aspen trees dancing in the wind, their leaves like spinnerets on a tambourine. They remind me of the Aspen trees we had back of the property around the pond growing up. I used to love to sit and watch them as a child. They looked like gold coins to me as the sun would catch them fluttering in the breeze.
The branches made perfect bows and arrows for playing cowboys and indians. I wonder how many of those poor branches we cut off making our weapons. When we'd peel off the bark, it would feel so smooth and slippery underneath, the wood a pretty off white.
We tried attaching chicken feathers to our arrows. We weren't so good at it. I suppose since we really were aiming at each other, it was a good thing our arrows never flew straight.
I planted these Aspen trees in my yard because I remembered enjoying watching them so much growing up and listening to their music. When I planted them, I had no idea that the future would hold many hours with me laying here, watching my trees out the window. I'd say that was a tender mercy don't you?
So, don't get to worrying about me momma. Even when I'm down, I'm not down. I'm surrounded by too many things to be grateful for.
Love,
Rachel
I know. I've not been writing again which sets you to worrying. I keep thinking that tomorrow I'll feel better and I'll write a fabulous blog post to let you know that I'm up and at em' and all is well.
I'm like a wood chuck. I pop out of my hole and make a peep here and there when needed but quickly dive back down into my hole before some irritated hunter comes along and blows out my brains.
I'm sitting here in my recliner looking out the window. It is grey and overcast again. The wind is blowing. I can see the Aspen trees dancing in the wind, their leaves like spinnerets on a tambourine. They remind me of the Aspen trees we had back of the property around the pond growing up. I used to love to sit and watch them as a child. They looked like gold coins to me as the sun would catch them fluttering in the breeze.
The branches made perfect bows and arrows for playing cowboys and indians. I wonder how many of those poor branches we cut off making our weapons. When we'd peel off the bark, it would feel so smooth and slippery underneath, the wood a pretty off white.
We tried attaching chicken feathers to our arrows. We weren't so good at it. I suppose since we really were aiming at each other, it was a good thing our arrows never flew straight.
I planted these Aspen trees in my yard because I remembered enjoying watching them so much growing up and listening to their music. When I planted them, I had no idea that the future would hold many hours with me laying here, watching my trees out the window. I'd say that was a tender mercy don't you?
So, don't get to worrying about me momma. Even when I'm down, I'm not down. I'm surrounded by too many things to be grateful for.
Love,
Rachel
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Thinking Happy Thoughts..........
It is still raining here. Not literally. The sun is out but inside my body it is stormy so, I am going to put up our hammock and go and lay in the sun and let the outdoors be a balm to my soul and reflect on the goodness of God, family, and friends.
It is still raining here. Not literally. The sun is out but inside my body it is stormy so, I am going to put up our hammock and go and lay in the sun and let the outdoors be a balm to my soul and reflect on the goodness of God, family, and friends.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Mother's Day
Dear (the best) MOM (in the world)
,
I thank and love you because,
1. You took the time to ground me, spank me, put sope in my mouth, sent me to my room, gave me
chores, etc..... because I did something wrong and you diciplined me which
made me the man that I am.
2. You took the time to love and raise me and take me to school, fix dinner for me everyday etc.....
Happy Mothers day!
P.S. I love you
Monday, May 9, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Nature. I'll Get Back To It Later.
We've been studying flowering trees all week and to end this edition of our nature study, we went on a nature scavenger hunt yesterday. Hopped on our bikes and hit the river trail.
Find a small wild flower. What color is it?
Oh look Mr. J! There's a little purple one. I put on my breaks, put my feet down, and SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAM!!
I about my foot down on it. See it?
I about messed my britches.
I'm all about nature study. Getting close to nature.....
But if you ask me, and I don't care if you did or not, I'm still gonna give my opinion..... this was a little too close.
Shudder..... I hate snakes.......
Find a small wild flower. What color is it?
Okay, we realize that this little cute purple flower is actually really evil in disguise as I wrote about in this post but it fit the criteria so we put a check in the box. Done. |
Oh look Mr. J! There's a little purple one. I put on my breaks, put my feet down, and SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAM!!
I about my foot down on it. See it?
I about messed my britches.
I'm all about nature study. Getting close to nature.....
But if you ask me, and I don't care if you did or not, I'm still gonna give my opinion..... this was a little too close.
Shudder..... I hate snakes.......
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Neverland
It started with this:
And then Mr. J wanted a go of it...
Then Mrs. Darling wanted a turn to which Peter laughingly asked, Are you serious? You're a grown up! (His nice way of saying, Are you crazy lady? You want me to push your fat bahootie around?)
To which Mrs. Darling replied that she may be grown up but she doesn't have to act like a grown up!
The End!
And then Mr. J wanted a go of it...
Then Mrs. Darling wanted a turn to which Peter laughingly asked, Are you serious? You're a grown up! (His nice way of saying, Are you crazy lady? You want me to push your fat bahootie around?)
To which Mrs. Darling replied that she may be grown up but she doesn't have to act like a grown up!
The End!
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