Pocahontas, Printers, and Painting Lambs

“Wingapo!” That means “Hello!” in Powhatan.

According to Disney.

Honestly, they may or may not be right since it’s an extinct language and no one knows. And I’ll take it after tying my tongue in knots over “Werowocomoco” and “Opechancanough” and “Tsenacommacah” all weekend. We wrapped up the kiddos American Heritage speeches on Sunday evening–just in time to discover a “printhead malfunction” with our printer.

Hmm…most likely related to the Lego incident of 2012 and that unidentified loose rattling sound inside any time you move it.

In the mean time, I can tell you this…Pocahontas did not marry John Smith, and the cost of printers has come down significantly more than the cost of ink cartridges over the last couple years.

And WalMart is a strange place at 8 pm on a Sunday night.

That would be the Cowboy there, out in front of everyone.

Our weekend was full to the brim this week. We had 3 soccer games on Saturday morning (thankfully they didn’t all play at the same time this week!) and then lamb customers, house cleaning, and speech writing all afternoon.

Then Sunday we had Sunday school and church, lamb customers, grocery shopping, speech writing, laundry, and printer issues until bedtime.

All of our lambs are now sold, and sporting shiny green spray-paint numbers to identify them for our customers. They’ll be picked up and processed on Oct 15th.

He’s been goalie a few times now. (See the red shirt?)

Then Monday arrived in all it’s horrible-start-of-the-week glory.

I lost my keys.

But I didn’t discover that until after I’d walked out of the house–setting fly floggers off behind me.

I'm not crazy about him playing goalie--he gets bored easily and can't bring himself to stay by the net. But he seems to like it.

I’m not crazy about him playing goalie. He gets bored easily and can’t bring himself to get back to the net.

So I climbed into our GMC with the spare key (since I couldn’t find the spare key to the Hemi either.) only to discover that the inspection is out-of-date. By a lot.

Oh, and it was almost out of gas. Again.

Oh, and it only has a one-row bench seat–and I have to pick up the kids this afternoon.

Guess what I’ll be frantically doing on my lunch break?