Cherry coke hair with vanilla highlights restored.  check

Bushy brows waxed into submission.  check

Junk put into new red purse.  check

Schedule move back into Watering Hole Ranch.  check

We turned down the buyers request for a thirty day extension.

We offered the buyers a ten day extension. 

They insisted on a fifteen day extension.

I told Meteorology Man to make the call.

WE ARE MOVING BACK INTO WATERING HOLE RANCH!!!

*happiness overflowing*

It’s so awesome when God covers the stupid decisions I make. 

Thank you, you beautiful mangy varmints, for taking this ride with me.

Yes, I already know I am ridiculous.

And how incredibly lucky I am to have a husband who loves endures my ridiculous.

Now let there be taco pizza.

hahahahahahaha!

ha!

ha!

ha!

ha!

ha!

ha!

Just sharing my belly laugh with you.

Where do I start?

I know, let’s start with the fact that I just lost two weeks worth of my Nexium on the hotel bathroom floor.

How you might ask.

I really don’t know.

It’s all a purple blur.

I was taking my pill when all of a sudden the cap to the bottle stuck to my fingers and flew across the countertop. My reflexes went into high gear and the hand that was holding the bottle full of pills tried to grab the lid, sending purple pills flying everywhere. Including the toilet.  I’m pretty sure the five second rule does not apply here.

I mean honestly, I was channeling The Stooges.  All three, by myself.

Earlier this morning I accidentally sent an email intended for my husband, to Billy at the boarding kennel.

Your cell phone is up here in the hotel room.

Harmless enough, I guess.  Unless the poor guy has a wife who reads his email.

Yesterday was the scheduled closing for Watering Hole Ranch. 

It did not take place.

Let me let you in on a little secret. (not so secret, really)

I’ve totally regretted selling WHR and have been sitting with my fingers crossed that the deal would somehow fall through.

We noticed that things on the buyer’s side seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace, when the appraisal wasn’t scheduled until the day before we were moving out. 

The appraisal came back good.

But, the underwriter wasn’t happy with the comparables the appraiser had provided.

Now, the buyers want to order up a new appraisal and start all over with a new bank.

Excuse me?

Another four to six weeks here at the hotel, I could handle. 
But, NOT for my neurotic canine at the boarding kennel.

Our contract ended yesterday.
We are free to walk without personal financial consequence.

We don’t want to throw a wrench in the deal that will affect so many other people by not extending the contract, but we also do not want to throw six weeks more of hotel and kennel bills, aside from the inconvenience.

Another funny.

Now that we have sold the guest house, we will be at the same mortgage amount as the Mexican Farmhouse.  So, moving for the sake of downsizing the mortgage kind of lost its logic.

I’m a bit torn, but know The Way will reveal itself.  I know what my heart desires, but I also do not want to get in the way of something that is to be.  I am at peace, despite not knowing the future. 

So come on you mangy varmints, laugh with me.

It’s good medicine, they say.

 

Sorry I’ve been quiet here of late.  My words are few, my mind in another place.  Struggling with an ugly stage of nausea.  I try to get lost in episodes of I Love Lucy and sleep.  In between all the laughing and sending promiscuous messages to random people on my email list.

Sitting here watching the snow fall outside the hotel window.  The Cracker Barrel sign lighting the way for I40 travelers. And tempting Wild Women to venture out for an order of biscuits and gravy and a bit of bacon.  I’m shivering while sitting in a warm comfy room, not likely I will play Yukon Cornelius today.  The biscuits will have to wait.

The movers we hired were an outstanding crew.  It’s rare to see folks happy doing such back-breaking work for others.  Each one of the crew members made a point to introduce themselves to us, made eye contact, smile and were not afraid to ask questions.  Ask questions about our family.  ha!  They were a little taken back that we had nine children. Taken back in a good way.  They made my last day at the ranch a pleasurable one.

We were going to hire a cleaning service to clean the house for the next owners, assuming I would not have the energy.  Instead, I decided to hire my daughter, but that would have been a lot of travel miles between her house and the ranch.  So, with all the snow coming in today and my healthy energy levels, we went ahead and cleaned it up ourselves after the movers left. 

Yosemite Sami had left a few surprises under my bed.  So, that was nice.  

Despite the surprises, we were in the hotel room and eating a burrito by 6pm.  Full of beans and relief to have it all behind us, we just kicked back the rest of the evening.

This morning, Meteorology Man is downstairs working in the lobby, while I watch American Restoration on the History channel. 

I might venture down and do a load of laundry later.

Seriously, what do folks do who don’t have nine neurotic canine to chase around the house?
 
What’s your plan today?

As we let go of watering Hole Ranch, I thought we might take a look back and watch the video Macy created when the dream came to pass. 

It’s our last night on the ranch and I am having to spend it without my little canine lovies. We dropped them off at the boarding kennel today.   Their happy faces all dropped when I placed each of them into the cages and shut the door.  But momma, their eyes say to me.  break. my. heart.

I soaked my red mare’s horse feathers with tears this afternoon.  I don’t have any words.

Everything is ready for the movers tomorrow, so I am heading to bed early.

Spending the rest of the evening curled up under my electric blanket with Lucy.

She makes me laugh.

update: The house was so quite last night.  Didn’t sleep but two hours.  My eyes are puffy. 

The sunrise was even more spectacular than usual.  I instantly remembered the first sunrise here at the ranch. It was bittersweet, because we had lost Annie Oakley, she had wandered off.  A neighbor brought her back later in the day, assuming she belonged to us.  I remember that happiness.

I read your sweet words to me this morning.  Thank you, my beauties.  Got out of bed and packed the rest of MM’s scattered belongings.  There might have been some grumbling. The last of the laundry is in the dryer.  Everything we are taking to the hotel is packed in the truck.  We are now just waiting for the movers to arrive. ( 10:30am, the movers have arrived and I’ve made the rounds with them. He’s got a good crew, shouldn’t take very long at all.)

I can hear the birds singing. They feel spring in their song.  I am taking their lead and moving forward.  I will wail no more, but resonate the freshness of new roads.

I am laughing.

For the record, one Wild Woman scheduled all of her dog grooming/boarding appointments according to the closing date the He Whose Name Shall Not Be Mentioned gave her.  Since we have just discovered we are not closing on the 21st, but rather the 25th, the senseless act of abusing poor pound puppies in the less than comfy cages fall onto one Meteorology Man, who shall of course, remain nameless.  Come March 9th, there’s going to be some chihuahua fury unleashed.

Of course, if no one tells them of this ghastly mistake, they will never know.
Of course, my silence doesn’t come cheap.

But how do you know which kids to adopt?

It was a genuine question, I suppose.  But, the answer seemed too obvious to me.  Still, I answered.

A mother recognizes the faces of her children.

The memory comes flooding back to me as I open a gift Meteorology Man gave me yesterday evening. Not the usual Valentine offerings of candy and flowers, or even jewelry.  This one brings tears to my soul. 

More than twelve years ago, I found myself browsing the internet, looking through photo after photo of children for adoption. I kept coming back to three sweet faces, a sister and two younger brothers.  We already had six children and the thought of adding more children only made me weak in the knees.  I wasn’t some perfect super mom and I knew there was no way I could be a good enough mom to nine children.  I mean, what would people think? They already thought we were crazy for having six. Yet, I bookmarked their photo and talked with those faces every morning.

About a month later, I was shopping at the local thrift store and noticed a current issue of McCall’s magazine. It had an adoption article listed on the cover, so I tossed it in the cart.  A couple days later, I opened the magazine to page 43 and my heart dropped clear to my stomach.  I covered my mouth and started to cry.

 
A mother does recognize the face of her children. 
The same three I had bookmarked, sat starring back at me from the pages of the magazine. Half a million kids in foster care, not likely it was just a fluke.

And the rest is history.

We lost this magazine, with the rest of our sentimentals, in the tornado almost three years ago. Meteorology Man found a copy on-line and ordered it for me.

Valentine’s can keep its chocolate, teddys and diamonds,
my man knows how to pour true passion into this ragged old heart of mine.

Okay, and I have to admit, the chocolate covered strawberries were a nice touch. I like me a bit of fancy.

Thank you, Hunky,
for going beyond the norm.

Though I know I will work through it, as with all things we have to release in our lives, I’ve been a bit heavy-hearted knowing we will be leaving the ranch in just a few short days.  I’ve actually had major thoughts of total regret.  But you know that already.  I think you know me well enough, I will discover wonderful new things despite the letting go of a lifestyle I love.

Today is the appraisal on the ranch.

Meteorology Man suggested we trash the place, so the appraisal would come in too low and the deal would fall through.

It’s like Ethel came up with the plan before Lucy.
She didn’t have to be coerced into some crazy scheme,
she actually conjured up the plan all on her own.

Yes, MM has finally come to the dark side.

I love this man.

And I would totally do it, but there are probably laws against such a thing. 
I’ve got a little more than an hour people, do I pull a Lucy?

Or do I wimp out and finish packing the barn shelves.

edit: The appraiser cancelled because of the weather. It is snowing in the city, only rain out this way. Or course, I had already finished cleaning the house. Time to let the wild beasts from their cages, though it’s kind of nice having the house so quiet. Yes, I am horrible for thinking such a thing about my sweet little canine. 

I am going to attempt to sneak a few words to you this morning, despite the onslaught of chihuahua bodies hanging off me.  They know something is up now that the walls are empty and the house echoes.  They are giving me that pathetic look,  RUN FOR YOUR CANINE LIVES, SHE’S MURDERING POUND PUPPIES BY STUFFING THEM INTO BOXES!  Everyday, she murders the pound puppies in a new way.   Neurotic canine. Nothing entertains me more.

With the exception of a few metal barn stars, the sheets on our bed and a few kitchen items we are still using, the house is packed.  We ROCKED the packing. Well okay, Dona and Macy packed circles around me.  They might have even been throwing in cartwheels just because they could, but my puny self kicked butt, too.  My body is paying the price, but the muscle pain is almost like a medal of honor. I am wearing it proudly.  Maybe even flaunt it a bit.

Look at me,
I pick up the bean pot.
I dust the bean pot.
I dance with the bean pot.
I sing to the bean pot.
I wrap the bean pot.
I pack the bean pot.
I stack the box full of bean pots.

*faints to the floor*

Seriously, it feels so good to have some sort of strength again. 

Meteorology Man has been doing the heavy work for me. 
I point and grunt.
He says yes ma’am.

I say move it now, Hunky Boy!
He says I was created for your service, oh soft-spoken one.

I say where’s my oatmeal raisin cookie, punish severely the one who took my oatmeal raisin cookie!
He says you finished off your cookie yesterday, my sweet dainty one.

We work well together.
He lifts heavy things.
I stretch his tolerance level.
There’s not a judge in the state that would convict him.

I told you, Meteorology Man wanted to hold a yard sale last weekend, despite the fact that I just wanted to set it out by the road and bless the peoples.  He held another one this weekend.  He sucked a total of over $1500 out of our neighbors.  Heathen tax collector.  He also soaked up a nice tan.  Anyway, that more than covers the three kennel runs. Well done, Hunky.

I made signs for all of the items that will be staying with the house.  I have learned from previous experience, it is not enough to have a list and/or to tell the movers what not to put on the moving truck.  They end up on the moving truck anyway. 

I should be sure to put one on Meteorology Man.
Though I am sure, he would rather spend the next three weeks locked in a storage facility, than stuck in a hotel room with his sweet dainty one.

The sun is shining.
Such a glorious thing.
Never take glorious things for granted.

Meteorology Man skipped church to run his yard sale again today.
I always knew there was a bit of heathen in him.
He made almost $500 yesterday.
He likes the conversation more than the financial gain.

In reality, he did not gain anything.
I ordered three of these yesterday for our move since there is no dog fencing.
They will later be used for the kennel.

Our visiting bovine eventually wandered off down the road.
Through process of elimination and word of mouth,
we eventually discovered who they belonged to.
We left a note on the rancher’s locked up gate, but for whatever reason,
he never called or come to get them.  Hopefully, they found their way home.

The appraiser for the guest home showed up during the yard sale.
Of course, he did.

We were using the guest home for the sale, the bigger barn items outside.
The appraiser bought some things. ha!
He also thought the buyers were getting a good deal,
so hopefully this means his appraisal will turn out favorably for their loan.

One customer told us to let him know
if the deal fell through on our the guest house,
his sister just received an inheritance from their mother
and she could pay cash for it.
He then complained all his momma left him was the house and a bunch of debt.

I’m thinking I would just tell my kids I had already sold off the fine jewelry
and donated it to the foundation for neurotic chihuahuas.
Thankfully, our kids won’t have to worry about such things,
considering the only fine jewels I ever owned belonged to the neutered canine.

Enjoy your Super Bowl Sunday.
I do not even know who is playing.

So tell me, you mangy varmints, what snacks will you be consuming during the game?

@chronic_masticator I remembered you asking me about my current food intake, but I don’t remember what post, so I will just answer you here.  I am taking in more than liquid now.  Still very small amounts of food, but taking in enough to gain some physical strength.  I can now clean out the dishwasher without fainting.  haha!  I’ve even been able to eat a couple of burritos. Not in one sitting, of course.  Usually about 5-7 bites of food at a time, which isn’t too far off from my norm.  Oh, and I savored an oatmeal raisin cookie from Panera bread the other day.  Lasted me for three days. It was glorious. 

Pecos loves to kiss.

Pecos loves Big Man. (you know him as Meteorology Man)

Pecos loves to kiss Big Man.

Big Man is not as secure in his manhood as Pecos,
so the kisses are limited to only the ones Pecos can sneak in.

Pecos is a good sneaker.

Pecos wants to let Big Man know that he now holds his own Licker License.

Viva La Chihuahua Love!

update: Things are rolling right along with the move. 
The moving quote was half what we expected.
They are booked for the 19th.
We sold the guest house, it is booked to be moved on the 16th.
I will be packing a few things today with the few boxes I have around the house.
The other boxes should be arriving by the end of the week.
My daughter and friend will be helping me pack, hopefully we can arrange a date for next week.
MM whipped up the taxes.  Refund will cover the new kennel fencing and beyond.
Our home inspection on the Mexican farmhouse was Tuesday. All is well, nothing major.
We found out the building we will be converting into the kennel has central heat. Bonus.
We have learned it is illegal to shoo random cattle out of your yard. 
They have been here for four days now.
Go home.
Or we are grilling steaks.

I miss you, my beautiful mangy varmints.

(edit) Just discovered the tags from @bigtoepeople and @tempguestbrief.  Since I am trying to pack and prepare to move, I think I would rather answer the Dare Questions while we are staying at the hotel. Hope that works! (((hugs))) to you both!