Tragedy

In a week of build-up, excitement, joy and anticipation, nothing should knock you on your ass and send your plans to a screeching halt. But last night, just this kinda thing happened.

Isabelle, my little lovely one, you will be missed.

Sneaky Peaky

The Homestead is piling up with mason jars, horseshoes, raffia and laundry (literally on the laundry). Back in Missouri, Cowboy H's family prepares for the trip out West (they come on Friday!), and here at the Homestead my bedtime gets later and later each night. Laundry, programs, dishes, guest responses, vacuuming, music, mopping, favors, timelines, dusting, schedules, and dog piss all keep eating away at the few days I have left. And Cowboy H is flitting across state lines while eating lobster.





I should be weeping.





But instead, before I abandon you for another month, I leave you with a teaser. A little sneaky peaky of whats to come in, oh, 10 days. (Not that I'm counting or anything.)

Progress

When I left for work yesterday morning, this is what the front of the Homestead looked like.

This is what it looked like when I got home.

Cowboy H, I love you. And not just because you made my front yard look like this.

Family Time

Last night, Cowboy H and I went for a little walk with the dog.


And two cats.


Talk about a family showing.



(Oh, we have 4 cats? Well, those other two have been disowned. I mean, if you're not going to come along for the family walk, you're not going to be part of this family. And I mean it.)

Oh My, It's May

Yesterday I got to work and realized that I have thirty days until this wedding shebang I've been planning actually kicks off. And by planning I mean sitting around thinking about all the things I want to do and need to do but never doing them.

Now, let me set the record straight. I don't really have that much left to do in order for this party to actually happen. We've got the site, the band, the food and the attire all squared away. Really, throw in family and friends, and that's all you need. But, I've got a bunch of projects up my sleeve(s) to really spice the event up, and those are the things that have been just marinating in the fridge for about two months or so. They're starting to sound better and better, but they haven't gotten thrown on the grill yet.

Wait, up my sleeve and in the fridge at the same time?? Who am I?

While stressing out (especially over just a little party like this) isn't my style, I've really got to light the fire. I mean, somebody get me some lighter fluid. This puppy's going up in FLAMES.

Basically, if I don't show my face around these parts for the next, oh thirty days or so, don't worry. I haven't burnt myself, or had a stress-induced heart attack, or quit, I'm just wallowing through a thick smoke of cookin' projects, getting black in the face at all. That's why I won't want to show it, not because I have too much going on or anything.

In the meantime, pray for Cowboy H. He may not be getting any dinner this month.

"You mean I have to eat donuts all month??"