My plan was to show what my sister and I wore down an Alabama dirt road, because getting dressed is something I enjoy doing, even when I only plan to pick turnips in what I wear. I was home to go with the flow and take a break, and I’m sad to say that going with the flow didn’t land us with any sister pics worth sharing. Erin would kill me dead if I posted what we took.
Here, anyway I’m showing what I usually wear: a baby and my favorite pair of mocs.
This is our yearly hay ride. As much as I love to get dressed, Ian wore pajamas this entire day, and I didn’t feel a tad guilty about it.
It’s a gorgeous time of year there on the edge of the mountain. You can see daddy’s garden full of turnips. We picked a “mess” of greens, and that might not be your thing, but it sure is mine.
It’s Halloween again, such a creepy day. I don’t get it even though I put on my big-girl britches about it and try to let my liberalness win. As soon I started to feel okay, Isaac came home from school crying saying that the kids talked about demons all day. Lord a mercy. We did go “trunk or treating” after a “singing” at church, which is kind of the cop-out version, but we take it because, hey free candy. This reminds me of judgment house, an exceptionally ridonkulous christian haunted house. I die to think of it, but anyway, the singing was wonderful and the boys had a blast, and I reckon I’m not going to feel bad about that either.
All that to say, I love you people who dress like sexy zombies. You really are totally hot in gray makeup. I judge you not. I’m a partier, and I think Jesus invented fun. I would, however, like to not see your sexy zombie privates out in public, but that’s just me. You know. Stuff like that.
Even in all my Halloween confliction, we scored some florescent vampire teeth and had tons of fun with them. The pics I have of what my sis and I wore are terribly hilarious, of our vampire dentures falling out our big laughing mouths.
At home we built a fire and sat around it till dark, and then we cooked hotdogs and s’mores. It was lovely under that moon with my brothers and sisters. We wore scarves and marshmallows and mustard.
I wonder if you can hear it in my voice. I’m not pregnant, but this is how I sound when I’m pregnant, not hiding hiding much. While I was home we got some test results for Titus. We have noticed that he stays sick a lot. He keeps strange infections and gets viruses that none of the rest of us get. This seems to be why he doesn’t gain weight well. The tests show that he’s had zero immune response to all the immunizations he’s received. This means that he could get the same cold over and over. He could get whooping cough. He could get diphtheria. It means that as of right now, all we know is that something is wonky with his immune system. Imagination goes auto-immune disease or metabolic disorder. We’re giving more immunizations to try to seemingly snap him out of it, and in six weeks we’ll test to see if there’s been an immune response.
I don’t know much, but I do know his doctors love us. I know God does more. I know I dabble my toes in the pain a little so I don’t go numb, and then I pull them out. I wake in the morning, put on my makeup and then my shoes, the final thing. With the shoes, I’m ready for the day, Gospel of Peace.