There's nothing like going home. I love driving into town and having a flood of memories wash over me. Last week I surprised my family and hauled the kids to Starkville, MS so they could dig in some dirt and pet smelly animals. They just love running wild at Granny's house and on Aunt Heather and Uncle Barry's land. They get their fill of dogs, horses, chickens, ducks, and goats...lots of goats. They love to help milk the goats. My youngest slept in one morning and when his little eyes finally opened he said, "Mama, text Auntie Hey Hey and ask her to save me a goat." He didn't want them all milked before we could drive the few miles to Aunt Heather's goat farm. After the feeding, milking, laying down hay for their beds we got to experience my favorite part...ice cream.
My sister invited some great friends of ours to join us for delicious goat milk ice cream and fun fellowship. It was perfect. That is, until the kids found a baby rat snake and threatened to enter the house. I of course followed my wise instincts and very calmly proceeded into the bathroom where I could lock lock the door. I even allowed my friend Heidi and her two kids to join me in safety. We were all waiting out the storm quite patiently until my brother in law and Heidi's husband stuck the end of the fishing lure under the door. Women were screaming and flying onto the bathroom counter which in turn terrified the children. It was mean, ugly, bad and may never be forgiven.
I've avoided the gazillion boxes covering the floors of our new home long enough. In coming days you can expect a "I'm never moving again" blog post followed by the 'ole "I love baseball" post. GO BRAVES!
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