Let it be Christmas

Having to work on Christmas Day is kind of a bummer. Having family that’s always up for an adventure can turn any bummer into most exotic experience… Let me explain:

My dad loves NYC, so it was no question whether we could act as chauffeurs for a group hoping to fly out of JFK on Christmas Day. The van was only partially full of passengers.

So enter a very sweet bro-in-law (Kerry, you’re awesome) who takes care of the Homefront while allowing Em to travel with me. And my ever patient Mother, and you have our group.

After dropping our passengers to fly the friendly skies, the adventure intensified.

We got picked up at our motel by our Fresh Air Fund Friend: Damon and daughter Kaelani, and friends Britney and Peaches. And they showed us all around. Traffic wasn’t very hectic as we started our adventure.

The Jewish section of NYC was really interesting. The girls in their plaid skirts, married ladies and their wigs, and men in their hats and long dark coats hurried up and down the streets. I know very little about these Hasidic Jews and found this brief intro to their culture so fascinating. December 25 is business as usual in these parts.

We crossed the Brooklyn Bridge and entered a completely different world. The Empire State Building welcomed us with a glow of cheery red and green.

We left the safety of our chauffeurs suburban and joined the crowds heading for the Rockefeller Center. We and half of NYC, (maybe half of the nations population) headed for the famous tree. Father said he didn’t even have to walk-the crowd carried/pushed him onward as they moved forward and he stopped when they stopped. 🙈

The masses of people were insane. Our tour guide Peaches parted the crowd and we tucked in her wake and tried to absorb the experience. (Average viewers of the tree during the holiday season is a mere 750,000. Christmas Day def was above the average)

The lights, cold air and city festivities created a one of a kind magic. Christmas was in the air.

Even more outstanding than the 72 foot tall Norway Spruce with its 50,000 lights was the Saks at 5th Avenue Light Show. Again the crowd smashed in thick around us as the music played and the lights pulsed and we took pics and laughed in excitement for the 10 seconds before Father was ready to head on. Damon rolled up to the curb and we hit the trail.

Dallas BBQ provided the finish touch to a one of a kind Christmas.

And as the Christmas moon lit the NYC skyline and I watched the constant hustle from my motel window, I couldn’t help marvel the stark contrast in the various interpretations we witnessed on this day we celebrate and reflect on Jesus’s humble birth…

Let it Be Christmas –Alan Jackson

Let it be Christmas everywhere

In the hearts of all people both near and a far

Christmas everywhere

Feel the love of the season wherever you are

On the small country roads lined with green mistletoe

Big city streets where a thousand lights glow

Let it be Christmas everywhere

Let heavenly music fill the air

Let every heart sing let every bell ring

The story of hope and joy and peace

And let it be Christmas everywhere

Let heavenly music fill the air

Let anger and fear and hate disappear

Let there be love that lasts through the year

Let it be Christmas

Christmas everywhere

Merry Christmas,

Kendra

When Your Sister Gives Family Heirlooms for Christmas

May 26, 1858 was a big day for the Rhodes household. Mr Reuben Swope was born.

Time flew by as the family struggled to survive. Within 3 years, the Civil War ripped through the nation, through their beautiful Shenandoah Valley and even through the Rhodes household. Undoubtedly Mama Rhodes watched her growing family and wondered what they would face if they survived in this war torn Valley.

But peace returned to the Valley.

Mr Reuben became an adult, joined the church, courted and wed Mary Magdalene Rhodes. He was ordained deacon in the church, and had a number of children. And that’s about the extent of my knowledge.

RSR and wife Magdalene

Rhodes Family

Until now.

I love the group chat I have with my sisters. (Reportedly my bro-in-laws are not as fond of the constant messaging 🤔) anyhow Em dropped a bombshell several months ago: “I have the gift of gifts for Mother. Nothing that y’all get will compete. I’m sorry. It will blow her mind.”

The mystery gift was the Family Bible of Reuben Swope Rhodes. Emily’s generous brother-in-law purchased this gift at a family auction, and gave it to Em, who in turn gave it to Mother. (Mother’s Dad was given the full name of his grandfather: Reuben Swope Rhodes. Incidentally you may meet my cousin- RSR III if you’re at the right place at the right time 😉)

After Mother recovered from her shock, she carefully started perusing the pages of this brittle book. And the treasures she finding. I’m left with so many questions.

Newspaper clippings: announcing a death or a old folks singing where they sang “in the sweet bye and bye” and dinner was served on the church grounds. The most outstanding article was the death of RSR, 77 and his brother WP, 81- only hours apart. Carefully listed were the pallbearers for each brother, and the fact that Russell Cline and a Frank Hurst conducted the service. This article also informed me that my great great grandmother died on her husband’s 61st birthday, and that RSR was known for his honesty and integrity. He remarried at the age of 72 to Elizabeth Heatwole, and she passed away 3 months before RSR was stricken with a stroke and also died.

Dried flowers- so many pansies, ferns, and even a carnation. I wonder who’s eager hands had placed the fresh flower between the pages.

Bank records: a careful ledger of who owes who money lies between the battered pages. One being my great granddad, Web.

But most importantly- the family record. Carefully between the Old and New Testament is record of the family. As Mother told me who was which family, I was amazed at the number of the Valley folk who share our Rhodes family roots.

I’m also surprised that my lack of ability to spell comes from whoever kept the record. Bless their heart. Reuben is spelled Rheuben at one place and Ruben the next. Daughter Mary is “Marry”, Nettie Ellen is entered as “Netie Elen” and they are blessed by the arrival of the first son and blested with the second son.

Regardless, this family treasure has reminded me of the blessing of a godly family heritage.

After all our hopes and dreams have come and gone

And our children sift through all we’ve left behind

May the clues that they discover and the memories they uncover

Become the light that leads them to the road we each must find

Oh may all who come behind us find us faithful

May the fire of our devotion light their way

May the footprints that we leave

Lead them to believe

And the lives we live inspire them to obey

(Excerpt from “Find us Faithful by Steve Green)

Also if anyone has any good Christmas gift ideas-I can use all the help I can get 😅

Kendra

Through the Eyes of a Child

Last week I shot up the road to visit with my long lost cousin Marj 🙂 it has been years since I visited their farm, this was long overdue. We solved a few of the worlds problems, took a stroll to the barn, drank a few gallons of coffee and I was treated royally- Marj is a wonderful cook, and her lively family is so much fun! So thankful for the progress Mr Kaiden has made over the journey with his heart challenge… what an adorable chubby fellow 💞

Our evening project was a candy tractor assembly line. I grabbed a few bags of candy on a whim and then wasn’t quite sure how to proceed with putting them together with hot glue guns and children ranging from 2-10. 😅 I worry too much.

We manufactured the tractors quite easily. And then as I watched, they plowed another of my worries straight into the dirt. My little, 2 year old buddy, Korwin led the parade, because his tractor was the first off the assembly line. I heard him start the candy bar motor with a low roar. He drove back and forth across the table until all of his siblings tractors were completed, and they could join him. Mikayla’s tractor was apparently a 2-cylinder because her tractor started with a “put-put-put” and I laughed at how quickly those other tractors converted to put-putting as well. Such simple delight! Admittedly I spent a few miles en route talking myself into even going through with this little lame project. 🙈

The older children soon carefully took their tractors and parked them away for the night. But not Korwin. He drove his tractor on towards bedtime. He switched into PJ’s and continued to farm. (Somewhere along the line, the 2- cylinder switched back into the strong roar of a diesel.) He belly-laughed when the snowman tractor operator collapsed from exhaustion and had to be reglued. He roared up the steps at bedtime and carefully parked his tractor behind the door.

Early the next morning, he roared down the steps and farmed relentlessly around breakfast. And once a wheel fell off, and he received the green light from his parents, he ate his tractor one piece at a time, and belly-laughed with chocolate smeared on his face.

And my heart melted into a puddle. 😍

As I watched the Groff children’s react to my little project, I couldn’t help but analyze me and my Christmas expectations:

Pure delight over the simple. Complete joy-filled mirth, regardless of circumstances, it was wonderful to behold.

A friend summed this up completely: “If we all could see the world through the eyes of a child, we would see the magic in everything”

Thank you, Korwin and family for reminding me to feel deeply the simple things of this season.

Blessings,

Kendra

Bonus Pics:

I spent a weekend in the Finger Lake region recently. Such a beautiful world!

And we woke up the most magical frosty kingdom here in the Valley last week…

Hoarfrost doesn’t happen often around here, and when it does it’s something to behold!

And lastly… My friends have the most adorable families 💞 Here my dad is entertaining the Rohrer brothers with the latest Farmer Stan book. The original order of books have all found their new homes ☺️ but there are more on the way-so if you’re interested in this version on my dad’s poetry- email me your request kdh.farmersdaughter@gmail.com

Farmer Stan and the Very Best Equipment

I am like a child waiting for Christmas. Every day I check my tracking number and feel a little annoyed that my package is still in Arizona. I even felt a little bit of disappointment over the day of mourning over President Bush’s passing because of how it might delay my shipment. But hopefully next week- the next round of Farmer Stan books will arrive in the Valley. ☺️ (his first book is here )

My mom is worried that it’s not on a child’s level and my sisters are very annoyed and accuse us of being a “turncoat” 🙄

But I present to you: Farmer Stan and the Very Best Equipment.

This book is written in poetry form, and includes all the hilarious poetry my dad (did you know his first name is Stanley?) has written during harvest. Video Links are here and here.

And at the suggestion of the editor (my mom) He wrote another verse or two. 😉 (Spoiler alert: Claas machines and MM Weaver’s prompt service get a fairly significant pat on the back)

In summary Farmer Stan and his friends have a good-natured discussion, and in the end:

They had a good laugh and Stan drove out the lane

So thankful the difference did not cause a strain

Cause no matter what kind of equipment you use

A friendship is much too precious to lose!

So if you need me next week- I’m either going to be watching out the window for the mailman or reading our latest Farmer Stan book and laughing.

Kendra

Bonus Pic:

Oh, it doesn’t really matter

If your tractors red or green

For your friends will promptly scatter

If you hold that your machine

Is the only one worth owning

If you’re constantly intoning

That your father’s kind of farming is the best

No, it isn’t any issue

Whether Bosch or Kitchen Aid

Is the mixer of the dish you serve

Or whether it is made

Out of margarine or butter

There’s no cause to spat and sputter

That your mother’s kind of cooking is the best.

For God the perfect tractor

Isn’t yellow, green, or red

But the Lord’s deciding factor

Is the farmer’s heart instead.

If the soil your plow is breaking

And the cake your mixer’s making

Praise and glorify the Lord-

They are the best!

-Lucy A. Martin

Super Thankful

An honest confession is good for the soul:

There is nothing in me that looks forward to birthdays.

Don’t get me wrong- I’m thankful for every day, but somehow as the candles on my cake create more of a raging fire, I just want to hit pause. These are such good days, and somehow my mind loves to worry that these days are rapidly dwindling.

So we shot through Thanksgiving with a very grateful heart as the sun shone and I ate my nontraditional feast- Sweet Lebanon Bologna sandwich in the bean field and rejoiced. Thank you, God, thank you 💞 Have I mentioned that the rain has had us struggling and how thankful I am for every field successfully harvested?

Black Friday found me taking a flying 800 mile/one day trip to OH as a van driver. My passengers had lunch plans, so I left at 1 am and returned home by 11 pm. The full moon lit our path and I watched in awe as it set over the flat OH plains, and at the same instant the sun peeked over horizon in my rearview mirror. Such a timely Universe 💞

And then began birthday weekend. I am totally blown away. So many of you reached out to me and I feel so loved. Why wasn’t I excited about this day? 🤷🏻‍♀️

My birthday twin and a few girls from church joined us for lunch. They made us wrapping paper dresses. (Notice Colleen even has a scalloped neckline)

My fam had a surprise fondue party for me last night. The guys enjoyed the meat the most (especially after they gave up on cooking it in the broth, and Sherman finished the meat in his smoker) I loved the cheese sauce and of course the chocolate 🙈

This morning as I wander thru the house in the post Birthday daze, everywhere I look I see little reminders of the love I received. I’m so thankful.

Em gave me a metal print of a picture we look this summer 😍

My mom often quotes this poem. Such a good reminder.

I will go on, bravely

Doubting not that

Morning shall be fair.

For what is life

If it is spent

In hopeless pursuit

Of nothing

But dreaded passage?

Then let me lift

My daily flask

To my soul’s lips

And drink it calmly

Boldly, Joyously!

And in the drinking

I shall drink with God!

– E. Witmer

Having a birthday over Thanksgiving is the best way to extend the Thanksgiving Season. I have too many blessings to count.

Crazy Blessed,

Kendra

Bonus Pic:

Julia found me a Fisher Price airport to go with an airplane I’d discovered in a thrift store. I’m now accepting story plots for Farmer Stan takes to the friendly skies.

November Notes

I was so busy sorting through the 100s of new Labradoodle puppy pics on the computer, I didn’t even notice my dad.

“Are you blogging, Ken?” He asked

No, I wasn’t and I started in on an explanation that I was trying to find a few pics good enough to encourage 11 families that they needed a puppy for Christmas.

He didn’t seem to care. “You should blog again. It’s been awhile.”

Need a good dog?

So here I am.

Usually this time of year we are parking the harvest equipment and praising God. This year is not usual. But we are still praising God.

I guess the rain delays explain the wide variety in what has occupied my time the last little while. So enjoy this quick photo tour of recent highlights:

We picked one of the coldest days yet for an impromptu picnic in the state forest. Julia ended up shivering wrapped in a tablecloth and Father was sure his gloves were a must 😉 but the sky was so blue and the food was wonderful.

Em and I enjoyed a “make your own pizza” date with 2 of the cutest guys around. (My friends have the most adorable families 🥰) You should’ve seen them flip that pizza dough. What kept the pizza off the ground is beyond me.

Windows of Harvest show up as teasers keeping us praying for dry weather and dry soybeans.

It’s that time of year when the Valley people are compelled by an unknown source to travel north of the Mason Dixon Line.. 3 trips in 3 days set a record for me. I survived a wedding, a horse sale and an equipment auction 🙂

Thankfully it rained enough that Someone could stay home for the surprise lunch and the visit from his sisters 🙂 My dad turns 60 the first of December-let the celebrations begin 🙂 Also so special to be with our Maryland family again!

I’ve been savoring lots of quality time with some of the most important people in my life and the great out-of-doors… These are good days.

I named these pics from today “the Clash of Seasons”

So thankful that our Heavenly Father promises to provide for my needs…

And that my earthly Father humors me in all things including my blogging obsession 🥰

Blessings,

Kendra

Jesus Understands Pain

Recently Jesus’s words in Luke 22 at the Last Supper stood out to me. 31: “Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. 32 But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”

I watched Peter’s next moves with interest as the crucifixion story unfolds. Judas arrives after Peter has been in the garden with Jesus praying and SOMEONE cuts off an ear-which Jesus repairs and reprimands.

The group moves towards the trial. Peter follows, watching from afar and is accused by 3 different people of being with associated with Jesus. Each time Peter’s response is similar to this:

60. Peter replied, “Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. 61. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: “Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times. 62. And he went outside and wept bitterly”

What emotions must have passed between my Saviour and Peter in that significant look? Pain? Compassion? Betrayal? Forgiveness?

Whatever it was-Peter’s regrets, remorse, and repentance were immediate.

I think Jesus looks with the same burning tenderness into the faces of his children today.

Life throws us all kinds of curveballs. Maybe it’s results from a doctor’s visit that turns our world on end.

Maybe it’s a relationship that didn’t turn out at all like you had expected and trust seems like a distant memory.

Or maybe the wolf is at the door and financial stress is about doing you in…

Maybe you made choices that you need to forgive yourself for. Or maybe you had no choice in the direction your world has taken.

Whatever your pain is- Jesus understands it. And He’s there ahead of the problem. “Satan has requested- but I have prayed for YOU that your faith will not fail.”

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,

Look full in His wonderful face,

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,

In the light of His glory and grace.

Trust Jesus, He understands.

Kendra

Bonus Pics:

The gorgeous sunrises, sunsets, and rainbows recently feel like messages from Heaven to my heart 💞

Avoid Death

The sun was valiantly attempting to shine through the fog as one by one Paradise Lane welcomed a stream of Emergency Personnel vehicles.

I’m not sure who had gotten in touch with Emily, but they requested that our grain bins be used as training grounds for a staged grain rescue with Rockingham Co Fire and Rescue Tech Rescue Team.

Add a TV crew hoping to get some footage for a safety awareness program they are hosting, and every single dog that our family owns and you pretty much have the stage for the event.

Grain safety is not one I think about often, honestly, but it can be a deadly hazard if someone were to get trapped in its quicksand. Most common occasions would be if the grain is exiting the bin and would bridge creating an air pocket. If someone were to enter the top of bin when the pocket collapses, the grains move rapidly, engulfing the victim, and without a miracle, the victim would suffocate.

There are so many stories of children in gravity wagons, farmers entering grain bins, etc when the results are deadly.

I stayed to watch the event because Em said it was ok (I think she was just hoping I’d help reign in the unruly canines)

After everyone arrived, they had a brief meeting going over the agenda for the morning- assigning different jobs to different members. The TV crew also referenced their goal with this program- to heighten awareness that grain storage is NOT a big sandbox for children to play in. The one lady mentioned that they would love an interview with a grain entrapment survivor. At this point everyone looked awkwardly at their shoes, and mentioned a few names of bereaved families, but no survivors. I’m sure there are success stories, but trapped in grainy quicksand is a very serious thing.

The session began then with everyone heading to the emergency vehicles and pulling out all sorts of apparatus. Air tanks and safety cables were among the equipment ready for use.

My sisters and I stood on the sidelines and alternated between watching the training and watching my dad. Father (who has an allergic reaction to news reporters of any sort) was unloading soybeans into another bin at our storage facility and somehow the one camera guys started following him. I’m guessing that reporter had never witnessed a pair of crocs in such high gear as Father rushed back and forth between the graintruck and the bin before roaring out the lane 🙈

Finally everything was ready and I assumed the climax would be when they retrieved the dummy from the bin. It was a little bit of a let down when they unceremoniously heaved it from the entrance of the bin and left it in a crumpled heap on the ground. (Em said “what did you expect them to do with a dummy? Backboard it? Start an IV? CPR”)

I don’t know wether they considered the day a success or not. But it certainly gave me food for thought. Basically the message is clear. Do NOT enter a grain facility that you are unfamiliar with. Make sure safety is first. Think ahead. Avoid death.

And really this is true in more areas than grain handling. The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life. The choices that we make today may very well lead us into a grain avalanche that will effect our eternal destiny. Think ahead. Avoid death.

Also don’t be afraid to share your story. I found this quote while looking through my New England Lighthouse pics and it’s been challenging me ever since.

“The scars you share become lighthouses for other people who are headed to the same rocks you hit.”

Avoid death,

Kendra

Bonus Pic:

I’m finally the “white sheep of the family” 🙈

New England 🍁

For 8 days, my van sailed the New England States/ Maritime Provinces’ shores.

It faithfully hiked the White Mountains and trucked through the Appalachian mountains on the return.

It does not seem at all bothered by the task. The captain however, is ready to be off duty for a bit.

But what a time we had. If you asked me to describe our time with one word-it would be this: FULL.

Full of education:

The Old Sturbridge Village in Massachusetts provided lots of hands on info of life Pre-Civil War.

The Apple samples were interesting, but I think I’ll stick with Gala Apples 😜 these were all so tart.

We were so excited to get in on the cranberry festival hosted by A.D. Makepeace Farms. Notice the girls in the background trying their hand at running the machinery gathering the berries to market as whole berries.

Another form of harvest is flooding the bog and “vacuuming” up the berries. These go to be crushed for jelly and juice, etc.

The privileged of entering the bog was the icing on the cake.

Full of opposites:

Portland Head Lighthouse

Peggy’s Cove Lighthouse

Village at Peggy’s Cove

We enjoyed our time at the sea. The Rocky Coast is indeed beautiful.

The Mountains were ablaze with color. I will admit to be a naysayer the whole way up into Maine “I can’t fathom what all the fuss is about this foliage. We have leaves this pretty at home.” But then darkness fell and we traveled a few more hours north and woke up to a gorgeous world. I take back my former statement.

Full of Laughter:

Here is our jolly group along the Cabot Trail. There was always some minor or major scenario going on- whether it was retrieving quills from a porcupine roadkill or learning to properly eat a lobster. I love these ladies.

(This is the preferred way of eating lobster if you ask me- a Lobster Roll)

“Anne of Green Gables” audiobook added lots of laughter to our travels as well as refreshed the story in our minds in preparation for our visit to Prince Edward Island. I wonder what Anne would’ve named these mushrooms growing along Lovers Lane?

These farmers were dodging raindrops trying to harvest carrots 🥕 There were a number of stray carrots along the side of the road. And we laughed as we gleaned the opportunity to taste the fruits of the harvest. 🐰

Full of Tears:

Full is an exaggeration. But the graves of a few of the Titanic victims laid out in the shape of the ship’s helm left a very somber feel. There were a surprising number of graves that are unidentified. Mother cried as she read the words of “Nearer My God to Thee” on the grave of the Captain’s son. (This is the song reportedly played by the band as the Titanic sank)

Full of Rain:

It poured so often on our travels. But we felt God’s care when the rains ceased each time we needed to be outside the protection of the van 🙂 this especially happened at Hopewell Cape. This portion of the Bay of Fundy had intense tides. We visited during floor access. In a matter of hours the tide will rise to within a foot of the top the arch.

Lobster Pots and Lobster boats awaiting high tide 🙂

Full of Sun:

Reversing Falls at St Johns at Sunset 😍

I fell in love with birch trees and their gold leaves in the bright blue sky.

Full of Wild Life:

A bull and cow moose on the Cabot Trail

So many wild turkeys

Full of Culture:

Dairy farmer on Cape Breton Island

So many house/barn complexes en route

The pastor of a VT church was a friend of several of these ladies, and he gave the chance to climb the belfry and listen to this bell toll 6 pm.

Full of personal records:

The Windsor-Cornish bridge spans from New Hampshire to Vermont. When I crossed into VT, I officially visited my 47th US State.

Praise to the One who creates Beauty in all things, who allows me such privileges as exploring this great land, for allowing my Mother to join me 😅 and for providing for us over and over again on this trip.

Jordan Pond, Acadia NP

Blessings,

Kendra

The Kill

I stopped by my friends house to swap tales. “Can I get you something to drink?” She asked

“Please anything with caffeine” I replied with a yawn. “I had quite the hunt this morning”

And then because she didn’t stop me-I launched into all the gory details of my early morning:

I was all prepared for the adventure long before the sun rose. I must’ve gotten comfortable and drifted off because I awoke with a start.

shuffle shuffle shuffle” “CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH

I sat bolt upright and grabbed the weapon that was carefully by my side. Complete silence. I waited.

“shuffle shuffle shuffle” “CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH”

As I moved into position, small beady eyes reflected back at me. With lightning speed I closed the gap between me and that beaver like mouse and using my shoe, I did the deed, bagged a trophy 🐭 and attempted to return to my bed and peaceful slumbers ASAP. I’m not kidding when I say “wake me up at your own risk”

Our house has been wonderfully mouse free ever since we moved 2 years ago. But I’ve noticed with a sinking heart the unwelcome footsteps in the wall behind my bed.

Two nights after the initial hunt, another wood cutting mouse tried to saw through my bedroom door looking for an escape. This mouse was quicker than my infuriated shoe, and had quite the cardio workout the next morning as he shot in and out of furniture while my mom and I- each armed with a shoe- tried unsuccessfully to corner him and give him a speedy ride across that rainbow bridge to never never land. The chase ended when he scaled up a flower pot and disappeared into the self watering part in the bottom. A T-shirt got stuffed in the hole he disappeared into and the plant got watered. And watered. And watered.

Apparently when the furnace men installed the new unit last spring, they opened up a hole on the wall and hadn’t closed it before they left. A can of “Great Stuff” hopefully secured that entrance permanently, leaving me to smash the remaining company in the last few scrimmages…

At this point I paused in the middle of my bragging-confident in my ability to be a mouse killer. (Who are we kidding- you never get the upper hand on mice 🙄)

My friend had listened to my wild tales laughing at the appropriate intervals. And then she opened her mouth and effortlessly trumped my story:

It was early morning, and mom woke up with a start- conscious of a presence in her bedroom. And alarmed at the little feet scampering under her nose.

“David!” (name changed to protect the innocent) “ Wake up! I’m pretty sure a mouse just ran across me!”

“Oh he ran across me too” said the sleepy voice from the other side of the bed “and used my arm as a fireman’s pole to exit the bed.”

Sleep was out of the question with such a circus, so Mr and Mrs David got up and put coffee on to watch the rest of the world awaken.

That same unwelcome presence came seeping into the coffee party and they spied their alarm clock silently watching from the corner of the room.

King David picked up a slingshot that the boys had dropped by his LaZboy, grabbed a piece of saltwater taffy and hit the giant in the head and the giant came tumbling down.

If you come to visit me and you notice a big bag of salt water taffy on my nightstand-don’t judge- I may just be expanding my artillery-ready for the next battle. 😂

Be blessed,

Kendra the Mighty Hunter 🐭

Bonus pic:

Occasionally we have a little craft night tradition. Thanks Pinterest for the inspiration and Book Savers for the .10 book for recycling… I’m so excited with this pumpkin harvest 😅