Shoot Me Already

Sep
17

I’m having internet problems. If I can keep my connection long enough to put this post up, it will be a miracle. Frontier is coming tomorrow, and supposing they finally fix whatever is my ongoing problem here, I’ll be back in business! Meanwhile, here’s an update from around the farm.
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Morgan’s looking pleased with herself, isn’t she? She taught Jennie to do her chores.
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I said, “Morgan! Jennie is not our new farm hand! YOU are the farm hand!”


Morgan: “Jennie likes to do chores.”

Reminded me of the time when Weston was around six months old and Ross was two and a half. He opened the back door and let Weston crawl out. When I got back to the living room, Weston was halfway to the water. We lived on a lake in Texas then. Ross explained it this way: “Weston doesn’t want to live here anymore.” Kids, they always “know” what the other kid wants, especially if it suits their purposes.

I smacked that milk glass right out of Morgan’s hand and sent her after Jennie.
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Okay, I didn’t smack the glass out of her hand, but I did make her feel guilty.
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Jennie IS a cheerful helper, but she’s not doing chores alone.
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So now they’re sharing and doing chores together.
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Just two happy farm girls!
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That’s pretty cute, isn’t?
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Farm life is so good for kids!

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Posted by Suzanne McMinn on September 17, 2013  

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Comments

5 Responses | RSS feed for comments on this post

  1. 9-17
    10:37
    am

    Well done, You!

  2. 9-17
    11:01
    am

    Aww! you have some great help there. Any word on Jack? How is pokey doing without him?

  3. 9-17
    12:48
    pm

    Boss girl is good at her job, she will have some cheerful, willing employees some day!

  4. 9-17
    6:53
    pm

    :woof:
    Seems to me I read a book once that involved white washing a fence??
    It is nice that they get along so well together.

  5. 9-18
    7:51
    am

    I completely agree. Farm life is good for kids and they do look happy.

    We moved to the country in 1976 for that very reason and today both the kids still love the farm and possibly might, hopefully, consider retiring to it some day.

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The Slanted Little House

"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....






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