Chest of Hope

Ian keeps referring to my hope chest as a hope box. That seems funny. My mother used to call it my hopeless chest. Nice gal, old mom was.

I just heard that some company, maybe Google, is buying goats to mow their lawn. Now, technically, I think sheep would be better, but they didn't ask me. Got me thinking, though, that we should fence in a few places, like the berries and then just let the goats loose in the yard. We have yet to mow this year and I have some grass a couple of feet tall. The neighbor, who has a perfect yard, must love us. I really think we should try this. Are ya listening, honey? I have been tethering them to trees to let them eat brush, but they keep getting all tied up and then yell a lot.

We decided to floor the craft room this weekend, mostly because it is smaller than the den. So, going to work on painting the den and bathroom and then put in that floor. Have I mentioned we need to get the basement DONE in May to stay on track? That will be no small feat.

Told Dan to get the kids focused on plants for Mother's Day gifts--someone mentioned chocolate and lotion, this morning--NO!! I don't need any more of either. That is one funny thing about this pregnancy--I used to love dark chocolate, but I have lost my taste for it.