High tea, cowboys, and dental hygiene

Here are some pictures just to let everyone know that it isn't all possum killing and blacksmithing at the foster household. the first is of the kids while I personally held a "high tea" (at least as high as it can get at the Foster Farmlet) yesterday while the ladies were shopping.


This is a shot at a good looking cowboy smoking a cigar with colorful sprinkles on the end. Apparently it is all the rage with cowboys nowadays. Below that is a picture of our desperate attempt of getting a handle on our bad dental hygiene.

Part II of Varmit Wars...

After officially declaring war on varmints everywhere after an earlier event where I come up a few hens shy of a full coop, I think that they have either given up and are throwing themselves upon my mercy, or more likely, they have decided upon a suicide attack method. Twice now in recent evenings, with all lights blazing, people talking and kids running around making noise, we have noticed a possum sitting on the back step, actually leaning against the glass of the sliding door. I'm not sure what they are doing, maybe trying to activate the little bomb hidden under their fur, but they didn't pull it off, I assure you.


So last weekend the kids came running in to inform me that there is a chicken that doesn't have a face. Never having seen a chicken without a face, I decided to investigate. Sure enough, just like they said, a live chicken, standing up (with where its nose would have been) in a corner, because without a face it couldn't see where it was going. Darned possums, no mercy at all. A raccoon would at least killed it before eating it.



But anyway, about 1500 hrs, Wifey makes that universally feminine gasp and exclaims with usual exuberance "AHHHHHH, DANIEL LOOOOOK OUTSIDEEEEEE! So I look fully expecting to see Christ himself triumphantly returning or maybe a mushroom cloud billowing over where Wichita used to be, and see: what else but a nasty old possum. The interesting thing is not that he is there, even though it is in broad daylight, but what he is doing, which is eating his 2-week dead, quite frozen fallen comrade. I guess this is the I.C.U.POOP version of "No Man Left Behind", except it would be called "no possum left uneaten". Anyway, Wifey didn't like the gleeful look on my face as I shot him too. She knows me all too well; she could just see it in my face how sweet it would be to be able to have a small mountain of dead possums used as bait for live possums. How perfect would that be? Shoot one, and leave it lay; then another comes to eat it, shoot it, etc, etc, etc. That is what I call the circle of life! Wifey, of course, the quintessential killjoy, informed me that she wasn't thrilled with the concept of a mountain of dead varmints in the back yard that close to the house. Whatever! Where is that Christmas spirit of giving?

winter wonderland

So last tuesday it snowed about 4 inches, a beautiful blanket of perfect work stopping snow. What else can you do but call your brother up and see if he wants to bring his family out to go sledding? The only problem is, neither of us own a sled, but thats no problem for 2 guys that own a plasic 55 gallon barrel, a skil saw, several chunks of #10 rebar, and a welder. The end result was more fun than a barrel of Foster monkies, mostly because the kiddos could hunker down and not worry at all about getting blasted by the snow. Oldest LOVED it and she usually isnt too into "cold and wet fun". Even my dog Sam got into the action...

stop, drop, and slap...

So, Wife encouraged me to post this about the girls; if you don't know them, it wont amount to much to you, but the deal is this; the Oldest is so much like Wife it is startling. The interesting thing about that is while many of her traits will be admirable as an adult, some are so very irritating coming from a little girl. She works really hard to get everything "just so" in order to maximize comfort and pleasure.



The Second Oldest is much more like "good old dad" here. Sleeps anywhere, wears anything, and she just cant be bothered with little details that have anything to do with the silly notion of personal comfort. If that means your underwear are on backwards when you pull them on in the morning; hey, no problem... its not worth changing them around, she's got stuff to do!



Then there is the pain vs. fun ration factor for both... Oldest is very sensitive to pain, and wants nothing to do with anything fun if it involves pain, before, during or after (like on her bottom). Second Oldest however, is quite different. I would NOT say that she assesses the situation, and decides to do wrong anyway, even if she gets a spank (that would require forethought), but when it happens, she rarely cries, and just shrugs it off and moves on.



All this is to back up a small story that happened the other night. Some time ago, after being frustrated with the girls perpetually coming out of their bedroom for "something really important to ask you" or "just need a drink"... etc, etc, ad infinitum, they started asking about what legit reasons they could go out of their room for. My response was "Nobody comes out of this room unless you are ON FIRE!!! That is the only reason I want ANYONE to come out of this room!!! Clear?" "Yes-sir, OK Daddy".



OK, so the other night Oldest comes out of her room with "Just one really important question, Daddy". I think that I will just nip this in the bud, turn this evening into a lesson, so I jumped up and told Wifey: "Look out! She's on fire!" (obviously; she came out of her room, you know) Then I picked her up and tossed her on the couch and started slapping the "fire" out from all over her, while hearing screams of "stop it daddy, its not funny, ow www, please stop..." After I stopped, I explained how I was sure she was on fire (she was out of her room) so I must slap the fire out! She was quite unimpressed and turned around and went straight back to bed, upset with me. Heh, Mission Accomplished! I felt pretty darned good about my parenting, I showed her, didn't I? Funny, too, even though she didn't think so.



Just about the time I sat back down and was feeling pretty good about myself, something struck me: I leaned over to Wifwy and said "you know what, we're not done here. As much as she hated that, I bet Second Oldest will be out here for some "fire-slapping"." I no more than said it and the door opens and here she comes with a great big smile on her face, and while I sat there trying not to smile as my little prophecy became true in front of my eyes, she says: "look at me daddy, I'm on fire." And I am here to tell you, the smile hardly faded into winces at all during an intense "fire-slapping".

concerning the last post...

Just a thought, after you study the earlier post, if anyone has any ideas for a digitially programmable thermastat that would regulate (kick on or off) the pump when the water in the boiler reaches a certain temp, so that it doesn't pump cold water through a nice warm floor, I would be glad to hear of it. (cheap, of course, like something scavaged off of an old piece of equipment). And, by the way, the new pump is working great!

Some of you have commented that I've been posting less frequently lately and wondered what i've been up to. I have been pretty busy with the usual stuff, but I will show you with some pictures below of my project I was able to work on with the long weekend. I utilized my extra time this weekend to plumb in my pipe system that I had installed in the concrete basement floor when we built the house, using a boiler system to heat the water pumping throught the pipes in the basement floor.
To do this, I just use the wood/coal burning furnace that I already use (to heat the house) to heat the "boiler" water, so I am not using any extra energy to heat the basement floor, just the extra electricity required to run the pump. If you look closely, I have labeled some things in the pictures. All I need now is a pump that works regularly.