By Nicole

For about three weeks Leilee's favorite joke was: "What is the difference between a guitar and a fish?" *************************************** "You can't tune a fish!" Actually - that was her favorite punchline.  She would ask any question as the first part of the joke and end it with, "You can't tune a fish!" She thought she was hilarious. Well I can't really tune a fish.  But I can tuna fish.  Like a pro. Although, the truth is.... this is only my second year.  Two years ago my sister gave me home-canned tuna for a birthday present.  We scarfed it down like it was ocean candy.  So freaking good. The next year, I went to a canning party at her almost mother-in-law's house.  She taught us how to can tuna, and I waltzed home with a hundred jars and self-proclaimed title of "Fish-Whisperer" because I had mastered the art of picking the tuna carcass clean.  No joke.  Hand me a fillet knife and a spoon. ...

Last weekend was a particularly PMS-y weekend for me... and I think the one who ended up the worse for wear at the end of it all was poor Jason.  Not only did I unload a whole bunch of pent-up frustrations, I had a bad attitude and a "woe-is-me" complex to boot.  I still owe him a real apology.  Sometimes us women get away with a lot by blaming it on our hormones.  Every feeling and frustration I was having was very real, but the way I handled it all was pretty crappy (my kids tell me that is a bad word and I shouldn't say it, and they are probably right, but I can't think of a better adjective right now). Anyway, after I unloaded, I felt better. And I might as well just spill it all to you all too.  I had been a bit resentful and grumpy about the impromptu farm that was developing in my back yard and my living room.  The chickens were starting to get big and louder and stinking more quickly.  My morning routine was being mucked up (literally and fig...