Rain, Rain Go Away

I have a bone to pick with Mother Nature.

She may be powerful, but I have a big mouth and a lot of opinions.

And in my opinion, she needs to skip on over this April showers nonsense and move straight to the May flowers thing.

Speaking of May flowers, it has been too flippin' wet and muddy for me to even plant any flowers. So these buckets of rain that keep falling? All for nothing.

With the rain and mud keeping us indoors, Woodrow has gone from depressed to down right distressed.

Look at him. He's now permanently rolled up into the canine fetal position on the couch in the farm office.

I've had to clear the area of all sharp objects and anything that would cause him to do self-inflicted harm to himself.

This is serious stuff.

I have diagnosed him with SAD, Seasonal Affective Disorder.

I mean, look at those eyes. He's just crying out for sunshine and 4-wheeler rides.

The grass in under water.

The wheat is under water.

His whole playground is covered in mud.

The little dude is so confused, he has taken his aggression out on the wheat.

He eats it now.

Bad doggy. You're messing with our yields.

It's even too wet outside for the frogs.

This little guy has taken up residence in the barn to stay dry.

He's been in the same spot for two days now.

I guess I better check to make sure he's even alive.

Poor Woody. He should be outside chasing the birds and annoying the cows, but it's back to the couch for now.

See this smile? It's fake. I'm getting really ticked off at all of this rain.

I just wanted to illustrate that I have been forced into wearing skirts and flip flops everyday now because of all of the standing water outside. I've had wet socks and drenched pant legs one too many times these past few weeks. And I hate wet socks.

Consider this a warning Mother Nature.

I mean business.

Spring Cleaning

We got a new computer over the weekend. So now my husband is on this big kick about clearing out all of our computers. I have been threatened within an inch of my life to clean my pictures off of his laptop.

The situation is possibly not that dramatic, but you know what I mean.

But before these babies go off into external hardrive oblivion, I will first force you to look at some of them.

THE END.

Puppy of Mass Destruction

Woodrow the Weirdo.

This dog sits in the craziest positions. (Note his front legs behind his back legs)

And he farts louder than a sumo wrestler who just ate at a Mexican buffet.

But despite how funny he may be, he's also a pain in my rear.

I got this picture text from my husband the other day. It's the farm office.

The heinous redecorating job is courtesy of the aforementioned dog.

I assumed he got a hold of a bunch of papers from the trash.

But upon further review, I realized it is a bunch of stuffing.

How do I know this? Because my husband never cleaned up the mess.

He left it there for me to find the next day.

How kind.

Stuffing everywhere.

I tried to figure out where in the world it came from.

Then I found this. An empty pillow.

Woodrow may have been doing me a favor. Because now that I look at the pillow, it really is pretty ugly.

I was going for the whole "southwest" look.

I failed.

When I went to get the broom and dust pan to sweep up the mess ... I found more puppy destruction.

To top it all off, I had to make an emergency run to the store over the weekend because Woody officially chewed up every pair of socks and underwear I own. And I hate to do laundry, so I had a lot  for him to destroy.

It's about time we ship this furball off to obedience school.