The Living Without Series

This is a series of posts that I wrote back in 2006 on living with less stuff. Check them out: liv011Living #2liv031liv04

Coal Creek Farm on Facebook

The Chicken Doctor


The Architect


These are the people in my neighborhood…

So far, there are some pretty fun people around these parts.  A couple deserve a mention.
My favorite is “Carpool Lady”. She’s awesome!  This woman picks up my kids from school and delivers them straight to my door even though it’s three miles out of her way.  I’ve offered several times to pick up the kids at her house, but she just smiles and says, “It’s no big deal!”   She’s fed my husband and son when I had to go to Wichita for a volleyball game, she’s delivered my son to a volleyball game that I was line judging and she’s had my son over to play multiple times.  Instead of thinking that this woman has a very kind heart, I worry that I’ve given her the impression that I’m needy, scattered and incapable of juggling my children’s activities, which I’m willing to continue that impression since it’s obviously working in my favor.  She has earned an official spot on my Christmas list. 
Many of you have met Ramone.  He’s still just as precious as the first day we met him.  I love talking to him over the fence.  He’s invited Clay to hunt on his property with this warning, “You can shoot anyting you wan, but if you shoot wanna my cows, dat’s when we part ways nkay?”  Many times when I’m talking to him he’ll gaze off into the field and say in a quick whisper, “Look over der!  You see any deers?”  So far, I’ve never seen the deer that’s caught his eye.  He’s also a wealth of knowledge on my house. He knows when the fireplace was taken out, when the heat pump was put in and the names of several of the previous owners.  Me and Ramone, wees gonna be good neighbors for a long, long time or alees until he croaks. 

A Timline Diary

I heard on NPR today that a man had 91 boxes filled to the brim with his diary.  He died today, so his journal finally ended.  For the past twenty years he had been journaling about his life, his daily doings, minute by minute.  Why?  He said it was an obsession.  I would hate to write about what I do all day every day.  But, that’s exactly what I’m about to do, just in memory of the old man that left behind 91 boxes of his daily doings.

8:30am- I laid in bed while two little boys bounced around my head pretending they were bombs or some sort of explosive devices.
8:32- I instructed one of the little boys to go get a hair brush and play with my hair thus avoiding getting up. 
8:34- Heard one of the little boys say he would “be right back”, luckily when he returned, he announced, “Okay, I have the scissors, now let’s cut your hair!”  
8:34.28-  Got out of bed quickly and I put away the nail scissors, two brushes, several hair clips and a mirror.
8:35- 12:00-  Ate, fed, washed, yelled, schooled, spanked, cleaned, wiped, yelled again, wiped again, swept, questioned, punished, questioned, accused, yelled, emailed, called.
12:05- Noticed Clay come in the door for lunch.  I took one look at him and said, “Why, are you wearing that!”  I was pointing disgustingly at the gray t-shirt he was wearing underneath his dress shirt that he had left unbuttoned for the whole world to see.
C- What, the t-shirt?
A- Yes, the t-shirt!
C- I didn’t have a white one in my drawer.
A- Is it inside out too?
C- Yeah, it has a big tiger on the front and I didn’t want it to show through.
A- So you thought it would be less noticeable if you wore it inside out?
C- Is it really that noticeable?
A- Uhhhhh….duh-her-der-hur-duh-huh.  I’ll go get you a WHITE t-shirt.  Good grief!  Do I need to start getting up with you in the mornings to make sure you are dressed properly?
C- Ummm, yeah, that would be nice.
A- (Sigh)
12:15- 2:45- who the freak cares…I don’t.
2:45-3:30-  I just know that I was in my van with a lot of kids.
3:30-5:10- Went to Old Navy with  Ike to buy him some decent clothes….no, no, no, what I meant to say was I decided to set aside an hour to take Isaac aside from his siblings and torture him.  Then we went to Wal-Mart where Ike somehow managed to get his fingers stuck in the back of the automatic sliding door.  Does that make sense?  It’s automatic.  He doesn’t need to touch it!  His fingers are stuck, the door has shut and locked and I can’t find my keys to rescue him.  I dig and dig and finally find them to unlock the door, the whole time I’m wondering how and, by God, WHY the heck he got his fingers in there!
5:10-10:30- Dinner, school meeting, coffee house, home.
10:30-  As Clay and I pull into the drive I ask if he has made an access under the porch for the termite guys to be able to crawl under the porch.
C- No, I was going to do it tonight.
A- Now?
C- Well, yeah.  The guys are coming in the morning, right?
A- Yes…..
10:35- I’m sitting at my desk wondering if I should write a little something…
C- Hey!  I need you to come out here and help me.
A- Wha…?
C- Yeah, I uh, well, I’m having trouble getting those boards off the porch, and um, well, I broke one.  
A- Were you trying to force it?
C- We don’t really need to go over the details right now, just get out here and help me.
10:40- We pulled off a bottom board, but couldn’t get the skirt off the porch.  We decide to move the stairs in the front of the house and cut the boards under the stairs so you can’t see the hole.
C- Okay, stand back. 
A- Your going to kick them down?
C- Yeah.
A- But, then they’ll be all broken.  Can’t you cut them with your skill saw?
C- It’s late, you know how loud the saw is?
A- Soooo-wah!  Who the hell is gonna hear?  Ramone and the cows?!
C-  Well, I don’t want to wake him up.
A-  Oh, for crying out loud Ramone probably woke up ten minutes ago when we started arguing about this stupid porch, now GO GET YOUR DUMB SAW AND CUT THESE BOARDS!
C- Oh, April, your so fun.
10:45- Begin to blog about my day……
A- Hey, come here…do you think this is funny?
C- Yes, it’s funny, are you going to blog that you asked me that?
A- Uh, yeah, I guess so. haha
11:56- good freakin’ night.

Int Ernet

This is the sign that caused me to nearly bust my doughy gut.  Listening to Clay read this sign made him sound like he was speaking some sort of tribal clicking language.  

This is the motel we got to stay in when we went to Scott City, KS for my grandfather’s funeral.  I got to  sleep in the inquee nbeds, but I didn’t bring my laptop so I wasn’t able to try out their  freew ireless int ernet.