The Oregon Coast is just as beautiful as the eastern side of the mountains. My sisters and I visited Mom this weekend. We shopped a little, walked a little, read some, ate good food and fantastic bread, sewed and knitted. Mom gave me a hat. We laughed a lot. Who knew that my mother made fart jokes? When I was a kid I used to get in way big trouble for thinking farts were funny. Apparently you have to be an adult before you can share fart humor with others. I shared that one of the car games we'd played with the kids on our long car trip was "What's that smell?" also known as "He who smelt it, dealt it." (To be fair, once the smell really was a skunk.) My middle sister, who looks as though she'd never make a fart joke ever, shared that the average person farts fourteen times a day. Well, she primly said "passes gas." Whatever. When Mom came down the stairs a bit later with a sheepish look on her face and said, "Oops. Well, that's only five. What happens if I don't make my quota?" I hugged her and told her that it's an average. I had beans with lunch so I'd more than made up for her shortfall. So, yeah, it was a good weekend. I mean, we did other stuff too, but mostly we sat around and laughed about farts.
The weekend wasn't all fun and giggles. A dear friend's husband was badly injured. We spent a good part of the weekend worrying and grieving and praying. They've got a lot of support and strong faith to help them through this time. If you're so inclined, pray for healing and strength.
Loving husband and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary tonight. We ate dinner, went to the bookstore, had delicious dessert from our favorite bakery. I can't believe we've been married for seven whole years. It seems like just yesterday we were jetting off on our honeymoon. And yet, I barely remember my life without him. It's been a good seven years.
And....I still love having chickens.
Aren't they beautiful? I thought about putting a chicken poem up to go with the picture, but I can't find a chicken poem that I like. Drat that Google! I just wasted half an hour reading chicken poems. Some of them are pretty funny. But seriously, you'd think someone out there could have written one decent poem about a chicken that's just a little ridiculous and charming without being too cutesy. Kind of like chickens themselves. Maybe I'll write one myself. Well. Better not hold your breath for that one.
Oh, we talked about vomit this weekend too. Yup. Good times.
Read about Cristy's weekend here. She actually used the word "fart" on her blog. I'm telling her kids, in that neener-neener voice: "Your mom said faaa-aart."
And Meg, who would like to pretend that she was too mature to have talked about farts, here. You'd think her blog was supposed to be mostly about knitting or something. And yet, she mentions her "Fascinating Life" right in her blog title, and what's more fascinating than humorous body functions?
Peace to all of you.