MEMORIAL DAY

If you see a soldier, thank him (or her). 

Through the feel of war they brave this day
How proud they stand, their unselfish way

Our soldiers bear what we cannot see
They assure our right to live life free

Each trained will face an unknown fate
Our support they need, don’t hesitate

Just imagine how this land would be
Without their courage - catastrophe

All the liberties we have grown to know
Would not exist, this life would go

Find a thankfulness within your mind
Speak gratitude for our bravest kind

Have the willingness to show you care
For fallen heroes, hold back no tear

Reach out to God with his guiding light
For our troops do pray, both day and night

America raise your flags to wave
For we truly are 'home of the brave'

- Roger Robicheau 

"Home of the Brave"

GOING GREEN

Well, after lots of suggestions and opinions... we went green.  Not too green, but green enough! 

We waited a few days before deciding, all while keeping an eye on how the grey shed looked at different times of day.  We quickly realized the grey color turned to almost bright white in Georgia's strong afternoon and evening sun.  A little too bright for us. 

The final paint choice for the shed was a greenish-grey mix that was on the National Trust Historic Paint collection palate and we thought it would work nicely. Hope you agree. =o)

(The view of the shed from our kitchen window.)
Yup, the yard is green now too... but a few months from now, the Georgia heat will probably eat all of this up.
Fingers crossed for the annual drought to be kinder to us this year. Please ignore the splotchy areas - we are trying hard to get grass to fill in!

I'll try to remember to post more pictures once we finish the trim, put the faux accent window back up, and add the small chicken coop we're building. Those are all Y&P projects for this Memorial Day weekend! 

In other green and "au naturel" news, we have a vegetable garden that is shaping up quite nicely. I came outside earlier this week to find this:

Can you tell everything about our gardening process is completely natural-
including our choice of gardening outfits?

No pesticides or additives here!

Just some good compost, sunshine, and a squirt
of water now and then will do.

A squirt of water, please Gabba!

Have you ever seen such a full moon out
in the middle of the day?!

GIMME GIMME GIMME...

ALL I want is tomatoes. Lots of fresh, ripe tomatoes. What is wrong with me?

Oh, that's right... I'm pregnant. It's just part of the process, right?

          

  

When I was pregnant with Evie, I was ALL ABOUT the watermelon. Watermelon slices with every meal - breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And maybe about three or four watermelon snacks every day as well. (It's no wonder I looked like a big green melon by the 41st week...)

This pregnancy so far has been all about aversions --  any food that doesn't immediately seem appetizing better stay far away from me. 

Then I found tomatoes. My addiction.  

I literally had tomato soup for breakfast this morning.  And sliced tomatoes at lunch. And I'll probably have grilled tomatoes tonight at dinner.

And a tomato and lettuce sandwich at 11:30 PM a few nights ago.  Yup, it was just two slices of bread with tomato, lettuce, and mayonnaise.   (Thank you , Dadda, for preparing it for me and not gagging while spreading the mayo for me. He hates mayo.)

At this point, I would not be shocked if our child comes out looking eerily similar to this:

Yup, this just guaranteed nightmares tonight
about a little cherry cherub.

OPINIONS, PLEASE!

The old brown shed, she ain't what she used to be!

Our backyard shed is in need of some TLC. The previous homeowners did a great job building it themselves - and they even ran underground electricity and a phone line to it. However, the siding has faded and needs some attention.

I have often joked with Dadda that with a little air conditioning, the shed could easily be converted to our guest house one day (or kids playhouse).  In typical Dadda fashion, he laughed at my suggestion and promptly ignored any future discussion. Lesson learned: I'm not messing with a man's shed. 

Well, I'm not messing with the inside of it. The outside of it is a different subject! The shed really needed to be stained again. But I'm so tired of staining wood. It's messy, I hate the process, I never can get the wood to the right shade I want, and I've just never been good at the process and always seem to end up with splotchy spots on the wood. 

But... painting is another story! The Yankee & Peach house is not afraid of paint - as is evident by the five different colors I've painted our living room in the three years we've lived in our house.

I was initially inspired by the recent Kentucky Derby coverage and the classic clean lines of the barns and stables at Churchill Downs. The hunter green and white combination is such a pretty look and I could just see our shed painted in a dark green with white trim.

However, when the first coat of the tinted primer went on, we had a pleasant surprise. It was a nice grey shade and not very green at all. Now I'm leaning towards the grey and white look.  This is definitely more of a New England style than a Kentucky horse farm look. 

The first coat goes on... and on..  and on some more.
The old wood soaked the tinted primer right up!

So, now I'm undecided... what to do?! Finish it with a similar grey top coat or go with the original green color we wanted?

Still needs a top coat...
Pink is not an option, although Evie suggested it.

My main concern is that the grey and white shed "pops" out too much. The old brown shed kind of faded into the landscape and blended well with the trees, our azaleas, the lawn, and the brown fence. Now, the new painted shed definitely stands out! 


I couldn't find any good pictures online to convey the green color combo I'm thinking of, so this is the closet thing on a shed in a similar size to ours:

I'd probably want our shed to be a little bit darker green..
but still with white trim.

I think the grey color looks great, but I'm also still leaning towards the green paint color, to have the shed "blend" a little bit with the natural colors around it. 

What to do?
I'm throwing my hands in the air!

So... please let me know what y'all think! Yes, it's just paint... and we can easily repaint the shed if we don't end up liking the topcoat. But I would love to save time, money, muscle, and have a firm decision.

In other Y&P news, little Miss Priss officially moved to a big girl bed this weekend!!  It wasn't a traumatizing event at all - in fact, she LOVES her new bed and would probably stage a riot if we tried to move her back to a crib at this point. 

Testing out the bounce-a-bility of the new bed.

The very first morning she slept till 8 AM.
(Momma and Dadda are NOT complaining.)

A bigger bed means more room for stuffed animals!

But the "new" bed might have backfired... 
because she doesn't want to get out of it. Ever.
It took me a good 10 minutes to convince her to get up
so we could get ready for school this morning.

Well, since Evie has decided she LOVES her big girl bed, now it's up to Momma to decided what paint color she LOVES. 

Ah, the little quandaries of life. Your opinion is appreciated! =o)  

Have a great week, y'all. 

MOTHER'S DAY "SPA" SPECIAL

"Make sure Mom feels like a queen this Mother’s Day. Skip the flowers and jewelry! Instead, treat her to a memory she won’t forget." - so says Elizabeth Arden Red Door Spa

My "spa day" started off in the early hours of Saturday morning, with me taking some much needed alone time in the luxury accommodations of the master bathroom in Evie's grandparent's cabin.  

There's no delicate way to say this, so here goes: I spent approximately eight hours up-chucking... or praying to the porcelain gods, barking at ants, heaving, tossing cookies, and hugging the throne if you prefer those descriptions. In medical terms, I was in full "emesis" for the entire night.

Evie's Dadda heard the lovely noises coming from the bathroom and came in to comfort me about 5 AM, at which time I pointed to the iPad in my bag and grunted, "Google. Food poisoning. Pregnancy."  

Yes, I am well aware that anytime you look up a symptom and add "pregnancy" to it, the likely response will be "Go see a doctor. Go NOW, you stubborn idiot!!"

I was secretly hoping that Google would make some magic homeopathic remedy for food poisoning appear - one that possibly involved administering a back and foot massage, cold glass of milk, breath mints, possibly duct tape (since it fixes everything), and eating a massive scoop of Nutella if I was really lucky.

No such luck.

And then the cramps started.

Not the oh-I'm-gonna-throw-up-or-poop-my-pants kind of stomach cramps. Instead, the type of cramping that almost all females over the age of 12 get once a month.  Yup, definitely time to see a doctor and make sure the baby was okay.

Around 7:30 AM the rest of the group was kind enough to wake up and get their first terrifying glimpse of Catherine-the-Unholy-Vomit-Queen.  Upon learning that I had been up all night and could keep absolutely nothing down, Uncle Battle generously offered to take me to the West Georgia Health Center Emergency Room.

So, off we went.

Just like a spa, right?
I had a quiet room, my own TV, and a call button to push in case I needed someone to wait on me hand and foot - or even hand me a new barf bag.  
(Yes, I know we keep it classy with our narratives around here.)
My "spa technicians" were Nurse Sallie and Nurse Danielle. 
For some extra special pampering, Dr. Nichols came in for the personalized treatment package... all for the bargain price of a $100 copay! Beat that, Spa Sydell!

My new Mother's Day jewelry.
Forget diamonds, rubies, or sapphires - this VIP bracelet gets you an all-access pass to any bodily scans that your little myogenic muscular organ could desire.

Instead of the external pampering and usual skincare/hydration that a typical day spa would have done --  I was on the receiving end of some internal hydration. Thanks to an IV saline drip, some heavy doses of anti-nausea medications, and a few glasses of ice chips served in stylish white Styrofoam cups, I was well on my way to recovery.

Throw in some paperwork, blood and urine tests, a few uncomfortable conversations like "No, he's not the father, he's actually the uncle - and, yes, he can sign for me," and you've got the perfect day of pampering!

Once I was pumped full of saline, the "spa technicians" kindly gave me a release to go home a few hours later - or in actuality, "home" to the grandparent's cabin.

When we returned to the house, I informed Evie and Dadda that although I looked and felt like death, I wasn't going to die. More importantly,  the baby was okay, and I was going to take a very long nap and they should not disturb me unless the house was on fire - and even if it was on fire, they should first try to put the fire OUT, and only then could they disturb me if their fire extinguishing methods didn't work.

Being the perfect angels that Evie and Dadda are, they complied with my requests.  To be perfectly honest, I don't think either one really cared about leaving me for an extended "quiet time" on the couch -  since there were toys, horses, doggies, and ATVs to play with outside. With so many distractions, I think they were very capable of keeping their minds off of sick Momma. 

Grandaddy lets Evie try her bareback balancing skills on Aggie.

Hmm.. maybe we should stick with the little ponies. I don't think her legs are long enough for the big guys just yet.

"If I can get on you, I know I can ride you!"

Yup, that's Uncle Battle. He was my EMT and ambulance driver for the day.
And no, he didn't wear this to the hospital. Thank God.

While Dadda and Evie played outside, Momma Peach got to snooze on the couch all day and suck down 64-ounces of lime green Gatorade (the classic go-to sick drink since early childhood). What more could a pampered mom ask for on Mother's Day?

By the time Sunday morning rolled around, I was feeling less like I had been in a head-on collision with an 18-wheel tractor trailer truck and more like I had been in hit-and-run with a small Vespa.  

We decided to at least try to accomplish one thing that had been on my Mother's Day "to-do" list, so we took a quick day trip to Callaway Gardens.  Uncle Battle, Michelle, and Gabba Gabba were going to hit the bike trails for a while, while the rest of us (Dadda, myself, and Evie) were going the lower-impact route of driving around to some of the sites - thus, letting me stay in the cool confines of an air-conditioned vehicle and nursing my handy Gatorade bottle.

Michelle, Battle, and the munchkin.
I highly doubt Battle will ever be featured in a flattering outfit on this blog.

Butterflies at the Butterfly Center!

Causing a turtle feeding-frenzy.

Really, really wanting to jump in the lake.

Sickness aside, I did have a good Mother's Day. My hubby and kiddo were nice to me and I was (unexpectedly) granted a lot of relaxation time.  We sent flowers to Nana in Rhode Island, Evie got to play with Gabba Gabba, and she talked to Nana on Skype on Sunday evening.

Also, I am now the owner of 7 baby chicks, who are soon to be residents of a new chicken coop in our backyard that we are in the process of building.  Better yet, Dadda had a pair of Evie's favorite baby shoes bronzed for me so that I now have a sweet keepsake of our little lady's first "real" shoes.

Nevertheless, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that next Mother's Day won't be as exciting -- or involve medical co-pays of any kind.

Happy Mother's Day to all of you - I hope it was a happy and healthy one! 

PS- I did call the restaurant to report that I possibly received food poisoning from their food while dining there Friday night. I was very disappointed in their response. Although I expected them to be defensive about their food, I was hoping they would be slightly responsive (and responsible!) in at least taking note of my call and checking into their food preparation practices.

I really didn't expect to be called a liar by the restaurant manager.  I was told that I must be mistaken and have gotten sick from something else I ate.  I was able to recount everything I had eaten 72 hours prior and both the ER doctor and I were fairly certain that it was something in their entree that I had. 

You can bet that I will never be dining at Frank's Italian Restaurant again.