I wasn't around much last week because I spent the week at my brother's babysitting my niece.
Annabelle and I spent five days together and I'm pretty sure this is how she felt about me leaving.
Since Annabelle is only three months old, she did a lot of sleeping, which means I did a lot of TV watching. I got so caught up in a Fixer Upper binge that it almost made me want to go buy a house that needs a brand new kitchen and to be completely updated.
I've done that.
I also watched countless episodes of The Pioneer Woman and it brought back memories of the days when Michelle and I discovered her show and watched it constantly. At the time, we considered a microwaved Healthy Choice chicken margarita dinner to be the height of culinary sophistication, but the Pioneer Woman made cooking sound so easy and delicious, and really, what meal isn't delicious when there are multiple sticks of butter involved?
There was one occasion when Michelle got so caught up in a moment of culinary inspiration that she got up from the couch MID-EPISODE and went to the store to buy ingredients for a salsa recipe. The recipe called for eight cloves of garlic, but Michelle used eight BULBS of garlic which significantly and unfortunately altered the taste.
It turns out that more butter is better, but not always more garlic.
I got home from my babysitting adventure on Friday afternoon and Matt had the day off since he had gone to our house inspection in the morning. It was a beautiful day so we decided to head to the park for a walk. And it was glorious, except for the part where Matt pointed out all the dead animals he saw.
My mom and I walk on the same trail pretty regularly and I've never noticed dead animals, but five minutes in and Matt spotted a dead mouse and feathers from a bird that he hypothesized was plucked out of the sky by a hawk.
I didn't know that hawks could grab hold of other birds while they were flying and Matt said, "Oh yeah. One time I saw a hawk grab a blue jay with its talons."
Just as I felt a tear in my eye thinking about the poor blue jay unable to escape such a terrible fate, Matt whispered, "It was pretty much the coolest thing ever."
Matt and his lack of sympathy for the animals at the bottom of the food chain was going pheasant hunting the next morning. When we got home from our walk he started to get his gear together and the next thing I knew he appeared in the living room wearing an orange hat, orange vest, gloves, and his brush pants.
I thought he was so excited that he was going to sleep in his outfit, but it turns out he just wanted to make sure he had everything and that it all fit.
Basically he was a boy standing in front of a girl asking her if his brush pants looked okay.
They looked very rustic but unfortunately Matt didn't get any birds on his hunting trip.
If only he had a pet hawk.