Here I am.
This is my brand new blog.
I’d love to write something wickedly inspiring to kick this one off – you know, something with a lot of GUSTO that really grabs the reader in and seals a lifelong friendship. But it’s approaching midnight, my eyelids are propped open with toothpicks and the heat of this sweltering summer day has sucked the words right out of my head.
If you have followed one of my links over here, it’s probably because you’re a voyeur interested in the random ramblings and adventures (or sometimes misadventures) that happen here on the homestead.
What you will probably not find here: coupons, deals, freebies or anything related to the aforementioned categories
What you probably will find here: frugal tips and tricks, contemplations on life, family and parenthood, recipes that I attempt to make hopefully without burning down the house, pictures and stories of our family happenings, fun stuff to occupy expand the minds of children and some other mindless entertainment thrown in for kicks.
Because there is more to me than just a dealseeker. There is a mom, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend, a teacher, an Olympic gymnast.
And this is my outlet for that wild frivolity.
What does the title “That’s Country Living” mean? Hopefully that one is pretty self-explanatory, but besides living on a farm in the country, there is a back story. We live in my childhood home. More than that – this is not just the house that I grew up in, but it’s the house that my mom grew up in… my grandparents purchased the house in 1951. That’s some pretty good history right there – and I love that my daughter is the 4th generation from our family to live here.
But as any new homeowner learns real fast, things on houses have this annoying tendency to break, peel, snap, crack, leak, mold, splinter, fade, cost a damn fortune to fix, ferment, spoil, rust and so on and so forth.
Out here in the country, we not only have the usual laundry list of house repairs and renovations to work on – but we also get to experience some other fun stuff along the way. The well can go dry. The septic tank can cave in. Bats can fly into your bedroom and dive bomb you upon entering. The horse can get colic requiring a 2 a.m. emergency call to the vet. The boll weevils can attack your cotton plants. Haha – okay I admit: I have zero experience with boll weevils nor do I grow cotton. But I really wanted to type the words boll weevils and now I’ve done so three times. Score.
So yes, crazy crap happens out here. Some crazy good, some crazy bad. But my Pop Pop, the original homeowner and my mom’s father, was absolutely known for his random sayings and streaking down the highway in the dark of night.
Any time something whacked out happened around the homestead he could always be counted on to say, “THAT’S COUNTRY LIVING!” *Insert knee slap*
And though ‘ol Pop Pop died in 1988 when I was just a wee sprig of a third grader, my dad kept this saying alive (as did my mom and several of our family friends). It is something that I have grown up saying and will no doubt pass along to Lily.
So welcome. I’m glad you’re here. Kick up your feet. Stay awhile.
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