Necessity--The Mother Of Invention

Yesterday was remove contents of pumpkin stand and Christmas Corral that were thrown in Max and Michelle's garage day. Let me tell ya, it was about time!

Apparently, we burned ourselves out by the time the stands shut down. There were stockings and Santas and pumpkin stamps and waivers and snacks and signs and price tags and baby wipes and saws and Christmas lights and scarecrows and hoof picks and toy tractors and extension cords and staple guns and hammers and music CDs and corn pieces and paper plates and Mr. Pumpkin head pieces and a few other hundred things! When it was all said and done, it was all we could do to thrust the contents of my car and Max's truck into the wasteoid that is our garage. Folks, it wasn't pretty. We knew something had to be done so that we could actually walk around in there without tripping. Thanks to Trish's assistance yesterday, we're not near as disgusting today. Max, Trish, Kaley, Grant, and I loaded up and headed out to Galloping Grace to unload everything in the storage trailer out there. (The storage trailer that Fincham is so kindly allowing us to borrow!)

See the beautiful pile of wood below? This split rail fence is a new addition to the Galloping Grace family. Max picked it up yesterday from D. A. Baker construction company. Doug and gang, thank you so much for your donation! We have great plans of putting it up in our park area. I know it will look beautiful.

Warning--this post is nearing the end of being pleasant. Please prepare yourselves for something a little shocking and rather disgusting. You might want to stop reading really soon. I'm serious!

Not yet. This is still pretty sweet. It's Kaley and Grant enjoying the beautiful 72* day on the edge of the "mountain". (They're little--I'm sure it looks like a mountain to them.)Still sweet. Starting to get a little more disgusting. They tried to wipe off that kiss. Folks, this is where you should close down this post. If you do not want to think less of me and the things I write, I BEG you to call it a day. I am compelled, in the interest of journalistic truth, to show what happened next. You, however, are not compelled to read on. You shouldn't. I'm sure you won't want to see this. Who really wants to read such garbage? And still I push forward.

A little background before I proceed. In an attempt to save costs, Trish called and had the port-a-potty removed from the ranch. It doesn't make much sense to be paying for a service we are not using. When we are up and running again, we'll have it returned.

Do not read any farther.

If you're still hanging in here, please remember that you have been warned repeatedly.

Max and Trish were working on unhitching the trailer from his truck while I was taking pictures. We hear from Kaley's sweet little mouth, "Mom, I have to go poop." Trish responds with, "OK Kaley, we're leaving really soon. Can you wait because we don't have the port-a-potty anymore?"

You would think that the three adults on the premises would have noticed that we didn't get a response. Imagine our surprise when we looked over and saw this! And yes, it was too late to stop the act(s). The deed, if you will, had been done X 2. As parents, we were mighty impressed that they came up with this all on their own!! I mean, how many four and three year olds would think to sit on the edge of a sharp, rusty trough to handle their business? That takes talent and determination and NEED.

Can you see where this post is headed now?!
When it came time to wipe them, things really got crazy. A certain little girl fell back--yuck! Not good. I think I'll omit what happened with a certain animal. Even I think that might be a little much with all the gulping and swallowing. I will tell you that Trish and I started laughing hysterically. Then, Trish started to gag and tear up. Good times. I haven't laughed that hard in quite a while.

A word to all you dog lovers out there:
You might not want to let Hank give you kisses any time soon. I'm just saying. And just when we thought we had purchased the perfect dog...
May you always have a place to handle your business--and may that place have smooth sides and be far away from hungry canines. Goodbye forever, repulsed readers.