Did ya'll know that the place we normally call home is 30 minutes from everything??? Groceries, library, movies, and church. All 30 minutes away. You may have pregnancy cravings for Ben & Jerry's and something fried on the farm, but that doesn't mean that anyone is going to do a dang thing about it. I'm not announcing anything (I think). I just thought that little example of livin' little-house-on-the-prairie style out the middle of no where might create a nice visual for ya'll, or at least garner some sympathy. No? If I scream, no one will hear me. Still no??
Well, the whole point of all of that first part was to say that Sundays on the farm usually involve mom waking up first, making coffee, finding 5 pairs of khaki's and some new-enough looking stain-free shirts, 5 pairs of shoes that are mostly the same size, and trying not to lose my Sunday (ultra pious) cool by yelling above the wrestling and cartoons the Sunday morning countdown: "You have 11 minutes. 11 minutes, people!!" This all happens while daddy sips coffee and reads his favorite blog. I don't have the heart to yank him out of his little utopia, knowing that Sunday is the only morning of the week when he doesn't have to punch a clock.
I punch it for him. With both fists. And, I sweat a lot, which results in a warm Sunday morning glow.
Now, you would think that while we're working away from the farm, and our little B & B is RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET from church, I would really enjoy not having to run around all headless chicken-like to get the crew ready for the usual 30 minute drive to see Jesus on Sunday mornings.
What happens in the delusional region of my cranium is that I tell myself I can actually sit on the porch swing, sip the coffee and read for a while before starting the "getting ready" for Mass process since we're only a skip away from Jesus. Well, a porch swing is a big fat lazy time warp, in case you didn't know that.
This running late without a reason business is ____________ . (You fill in the blank. My adjectives are inappropriate.) It's like being told you can use your notes on a test but you don't use your notes, and you fail the test. Hmmmm??
Long story short, after I snapped out of it, 7 of us assembled ourselves in 18 minutes and 4 seconds this morning. We were in such a sprint to beat the bells, the boys rode their scooters across the street. Just visualize 3 boys, sporting polos and khakis, two wheelin' it past the late-comers all the way up to the front steps of the church, while mom and dad juggle baby and straggle in behind. We live across the street and we still can't get to Mass early. Well, we can, but we don't. Lord, help us!
Alas, this is what came together for me today, minus a hair-do, I did manage to match.
It's a stellar back drop, I know.
The old pick-up truck driving out of my neck is especially creative.
Photos with a motor home backdrop happen when a 12 year old is your photographer.
Bracelets & Belt: Francescas
Earrings: Alter Ego
Earrings: Alter Ego
I must be looking at my husband, clean and shaved, thus my dreamy expression.
Or, I could be imagining how fun it's going to be to dunk the boys at the pool today.
Probably both. Yes, both.
Happy Sunday, Everyone!!