what little boys are made of

Yesterday was a day that I dread year round: the day we butcher all of our chickens that we have raised. I know it's terrible. Just kidding, it's honestly not that bad once you can get past all the blood, guts and gore. I never can seem to get past it, so maybe it is all that bad for me. Yesterday was bearable because I got to cuddle with baby raccoons. I can see your jaw dropping from here. I know. How often do you get to hold adorable baby coons? Certainly not too much around here. They were my little cousin, Gabe's, his dad had shot the mother, who had been wreaking havoc on their farm and eating their chickens, only to find that she had left behind little babies. That's where Gabe stepped in and has been raising them for about a month.  Gabe's younger brother also had a pet turtle that his grandpa had found. They had little critters literally falling from their pockets. 

Precious.

Yesterday I was reminded of the nursery rhyme I would read as a kid. I guess it holds true, except for maybe the little girls part.

 I was not that little girl (sorry mom).

What are little boys made of?

What are little boys made of?

Slugs and snails

And puppy-dogs' tails,

That's what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of?

What are little girls made of?

Sugar and spice

And everything nice,

That's what little girls are made of.

a Tara.

This here is Tara. Tara is beautiful. I enjoyed photographing her very very much. She's up for anything. There's not many things more fun than spending time with a friend and taking pictures. So this was like heaven. 

Tara is also a stud. Qualifying for state track in the hurdles her freshman year is only one of her accomplishments. 

You're pretty cool.

Thanks Murph. 

                                                                            

altoids & JT

Yesterday was a very delightful one.  My cousin Rebekah invited me to go with her to a historical wedding dress display. It sounded interesting and scones and tea were promised. Of course I went. Roadtrips are my favorite and anything is fun with Rebekah. The dress show was in a tiny little town in the middle-of-no-where, Nebraska, about an hour drive away. 

Perfect. 

We drove. We laughed. We belted Les Mis music at the top of our lungs, jammed to JT, hummed to She & Him.

Starbucks was drank, many Altoids were consumed, and pumpkin bread was devoured. 

We got lost once but stumbled upon burned trees and an old air base, bomb shelter.... probably looking as lost as ever to the farmers that drove by and caught glimpses of us stumbling about in our Ray-Bans and red lipstick.  We arrived at the little town museum where the dresses were and discovered we were the youngest by about 40 years, but that's what was expected and actually made it all the better. We met delightful people and her romantic stories about soldiers and people from a time that seems better than ours. Rebekah and I felt pains of nostalgia, but an appreciation for the present. 

We then discussed these thoughts over appetizers. 

Fantastic.