fact or fiction

Today while talking with Mama it was brought to my attention that some people question whether all I write is true to life. I assure all those reading (few they may be) that I write the gospel truth. I mean come on-most of you have met my brood. Do you really doubt they would do anything mentioned? If you do-thank you! I try to hide their heathen ways. At least some one believes their angelic public presentation. It brings a tear to my eye to know my deception has been sucessful-holy terrors at home, angels in public.

That being clarified-let's talk about some more of the adventures of the Waltons. A nickname given to us by our much loved creole, backwood, hillbilly father-in-law. Which always makes me giggle. If your familiar with the Waltons you remember the goodnight scene at the end of each episode. (As for all you others out there in cyber land: the Waltons had lots of kids-to this day I can't ever pinpoint how many. So we'll say six and leave it at that. Don't forget Mama and Papa as well as a set of grandparents all under one roof! At the close of every episode there was a shot of the exterior of the house, as disembodied voices said goodnight. Goodnight Mama-Goodnight Jim Bob-Goodnight Gran. Well you get the jist of it.) Somehow even with less childern it takes longer than on tv.

I long for that simple life decades ago really. So I strive to live in that fashion, and raise my brood in the carefree ways of then. Which is why so many things of amusement happen here. I believe childern should be raised as well-childern. Don't worry there are no soap boxes here, just expressing why I believe my life to be so full of entertainment.

For example: just two days ago my childern designed a new game-dress the pigs. They took bandanas and tutus out to the pig pen. Where they tried to catch Scout and Droopy (our three month old piglets). Imagine if you will four childern holding out clothes waving in the wind. Arms out stretched one calling "Here piggie piggie." Another on all fours snorting at them. Can you see the look of terror on a small pigs face? Do you hear a high pitched squealing? The squealling is actually Bella in her excitement. When this failed with utter misery, they changed the game-to chicken dress up. This was unfortanetly(for the chickens) a much easier game. In the moment of utter hilarity I forgot to take pictures.

The only downfall, aside from the missed photos, was in the hysteria of trying to recatch the big meat chickens (Ozzie and Henrriet) to relieve them of their burdens-the chicken gate was left open. The chase then went through the garden, which is directly beside the chicken pen. Sadly we suffered the loss of several stocks of corn and one broken cherry tomatoe plant. That's alright though there's plenty left.

Now there's a new rule: no dressing up animals that live outside. We really should have expanded on this however. Cause not even an hour later Buck Blaster (the guinea pig) came into the living room dressed for a ballet recital. When asked why they had a boy in a dress we received two answers. One made sense-his short arms wouldn't go through the sleeves of the other outfits. The second flushed my husband's face the same color as his beard-daddy wears them sometimes. (Just to relieve all those with frightened looks on their faces-he did it twice for Relay for Life. And made one ugly woman at that. But he did win first prize)

Now you ask me is this fact or fiction? And my answer will be-you can't make this stuff up.