Valentine's Day

The most excitement I can remember on a Valentine's Day happened when my mom made our family heart-shaped pizzas. 

Also when I broke up with a boyfriend a couple days before Valentine's Day because he was being a louse. 

I prefer to focus on the pizzas. Pizzas never let you down. Pizzas love you no matter what. 


This year for Valentine's Day, I made a handful of little gifts for a handful of people I like, made a handful of little cards for a handful of little cousins who live far away, and called it a day . . . and then sat down to determine what kind of heart-shaped pizza we'll be eating on the 14th. 

I'm nothing if not consistent. 

 

I was also trying to use up things in my craft closet: nine million tea towels, extra Pyrex coffee cups, the 47th roll of red baker's twine . . .  

It doesn't take a $200 trip to Target to let people know you care.

 

Besides, who needs Target when you have a gabillion Pinterest printables at your fingertips? 

Granted, there are some pretty lame ones out there, but then again, there's "I'm cocoa for you!" and "I like you a latte!" And who doesn't feel like a million bucks after that? (Don't answer that.)


Let's just say . . . I'm all for reminding people that they matter, especially when they're worn out from work, spent from chasing after kiddos and everything in between. 

I may not be able to bake you all a heart-shaped pizza, but I do think "You're tea-rrific!" and that counts for something, right? 

Happy Valentine's Day!









winter weather

 When it's been warm but then it turns cold again,


it's usually best just to hunker down in a sunny spot,


cover up with your favorite warm, snuggly blanket (or fur coat as the case may be),


wriggle around until you find a comfy spot, and then fall fast, fast asleep.

And if your boo can keep an eye out for you, and maybe even share the couch, well, blessed are you.

Or Petunia.

Whichever.




happy heifers and apple toffee dip (with dairy!)


We have a routine at our house. Every morning when our little girl wakes up, we go to the window and look for the heifers. If she can't spot them, she cranes her neck to see if they're hiding somewhere. And when she can't find them out one window, she leans toward the other window to see if somehow they're there. 

I mean, they never are. That would mean they are standing smack dab in the middle of the road, and that wouldn't be good for anyone--them or us . . . or the poor Fed-Ex guy who always slows down for our dogs and ends up stopped in the middle of the road honking his horn at them.

Inauguration Day



Let's not get into a Donald Trump vs. Hillary throwdown. That ship sailed November 8.

But let's do talk about the shout-outs that American cattle farmers got on President Trump's inauguration day.


  1. Angus steak was on the menu for the second course of Mr. Trump's first lunch as president. (Granted, the first course included lobster and shrimp, but we won't hold that against him. He is on the East Coast, after all.) And it wasn't just any steak; it was steak smothered in chocolate and potatoes. Be still, my heart. No tofu for this guy. Just straight up beef. I'm in!
  2. The dessert was none other than cherry ice cream. Not frozen yogurt. Not fruit trifles. Ice cream. And we're grateful for the nod to dairy cows; they're part of the fabric of America too. After all, farmers have been milking cows since, well, it's probably safe to assume the Pilgrims got off the Mayflower with a bucket and a two-legged stool in one hand and a lead rope for Bossy in the other, don't you think?
  3. There were tractors in the inaugural parade. Tractors . . . in Washington, D.C., hotbed of taxis and Ubers and Amazon-drones-delivering-groceries. And the parade didn't feature just green tractors. Red, green, blue, yellow . . . they were all represented. That's bipartisanship in farm machinery in action. I vote yes in 2017. 


 I couldn't keep tabs on all the rodeo drill teams and square dancers and pooper scoopers following horses and other country folks that were represented in the parade, but we're grateful for them too.

And for each one of you!

Whether you're eating beef or ice cream in the suburbs tonight, or driving your tractor or milking cows in the country, thanks for supporting America's farmers. We are grateful.

adopting a calf


Mrs. Miller's kindergarten class adopted one of our calves for the year. They wanted to adopt one through another program, but it turns out that dairy was fresh out of calves.

my word of the year (also...butter)

 

All the well-known bloggers are posting their word of the year, the word they're going to live by for 2017, the one thing that sums up who they are and what they want to be.

They're choosing deep words: Quality. Peace. Joy. Intentional. 

I have a word too, but I'm not that noble.

My word is carbs.  

Or maybe humor

Or honesty

Mostly just carbs though.

a one-year-old


This week, our little peach turned a year old.

She had pears and pizza and a bite of brownie for a celebratory meal, but she really just wanted to use her dad as a jungle gym, take off her party hat and stay far, far away from scary balloons.

Everyone tells you that raising children goes quickly, that they grow up too fast, that they'll be ready for college in the blink of an eye.

And THEY ARE RIGHT.
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