Too cute for words...

Yep, this Wordless Wednesday is just too cute for words...

Thanks to Bastiaan's dad, Rinus Oostdijck who took these lovely pics!

Have a fantastic Wednesday!


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Oh Canada! A rocky road...

Ever hit a big rock?
On the highway?
Driving at least 50 miles per hour?

I would not recommend it…

I had a fantastic time in Canada. The horses, the people and the quietness of the country side were good medicine for the soul. We didn’t have much time off but after two months me and the other student Kate were allowed to take the bosses car and drive down to Calgary to go see a big International Jumping event. There even were some Dutch professionals coming to compete... whoohoo....

Chris (our boss) had arranged that we could stay at a friend’s place. We just had to drive down there on Friday go to the show on Saturday and Sunday and then drive back home so we could be back at work at Touchstone Farm on Monday.

Things went well…. Well, until we got in Calgary.

We were driving along the highway after having met our lovely host for the weekend and told her that Kate and I were going to see where exactly the show was going to be held so we wouldn’t be late the next morning. We also figured while we were in Calgary we should make the best of it and maybe even go to dinner and see a movie.

Because it was later in the afternoon the roads weren’t that crowded and we were driving smoothly on a well kept highway, having a good conversation and listning to some good music trying to figure out where we needed to go the next morning.

And then we see this big brown thing in the middle of the highway… We discuss the issue at hand and come to the conclusion, that it must be a carton box, maybe fallen off of a truck or something. Then we discussed if it would be possible to drive over it and what would happen if we did… we were feeling pretty gutsy and daring, driving 60 miles an hour…

BIG BLOND MOMENTS GOING ON RIGHT THERE AND THEN!

When we are about 50 feet from the “carton box” Kate yells at me “THAT IS NOT A CARTON BOX!!!” At exactly the same moment that she yells, I noticed the same thing! It is not a carton box it is a SOLID ROCK!!!

The moment we realize it is not a carton box of about 2 by 2 feet big, defiantly not something to drive over at 60 miles an hour, I yank the steering wheel over to avoid the thing, yelling back to to Kate that she "needs to hold on!!!"

We missed the rock… well, actually we didn’t, but the car was still going…. “Who on earth leaves a SOLID ROCK in the middle of a highway anyway!!!???”

Kate was pretty pale and I’m sure I was even paler, together we let out a breath of relief and I slowed down. We did a quick check, check, doulbe check: the car was still driving, we didn’t hear any crazy sounds and we almost didn’t hit anything, and we were still alive. But we felt incredibly stupid...

While recuperating we noticed a four dollar movie theater. Because we were pretty shaken up we figured, go eat something, go to the movies and go back to bed. We had enough excitement for one day...

I park the car and as I exit the car I hear this hissing noise… Kate heard the same hissing sound and we checked where it came from. And yes being girls with no “car mechanics background” it should have been real hard for us to figure out what was wrong. But it wasn’t…

It was pretty easy actually and that didn’t help the situation. There was a hole in the tire. And not only was there a hole in the tire, there was something wrong with the rim. A rim is supposed to be nice and round, and this one wasn’t. It was bent. And bent isn’t even the right word it was more like it had  a 2 inch gap in the middle…

We looked around and noticed that on the other side of the road there was a garage (I know, we had a least 4 little angels sitting on our shoulders). We hopped in the car drove (really, really slowly) to the other side of the road and hurried inside, trying to find somebody who could help us.

It was five minutes to five on a Friday afternoon….

We did find a nice gentleman who tried to help us but because it was so late during the day and he did have a tire but NO rim, he could’t really do more. He gave us addresses of local scrap yards and told us we needed to find a new rim, and then he would put it on for us the next morning.

Feeling even dumber we went back to our lovely host. We told her that we had a “little bit” of an accident and that we needed to go find a new rim for Chris’s car the next day. That Saturday we spent THE WHOLE DAY looking for a rim and by 2 o clock in the afternoon we had found one. Brought it to the nice car mechanic and he said he needed the rest of the day to fix our car back up. At 6 o clock and a lot of Canadian dollars lighter we had our car back. And no, we didn’t see one horse at all that day…

That Sunday we didn’t really feel like going to the show, after all, all the good riders had already competed on Saturday so we decided to drive the four hours back to Touchstone Farm. We thanked our host and she promised us not to tell Chris.

We got home early that Sunday and told Chris we enjoyed the show. He never found out (or so we thought). At least not until I went back to Touchstone 5 years later and told him about that time that we got him a "free" new rim…

So for all of you miss smarty pants that have the feeling that they need to be brave and gutsy every now and then, NEVER get gutsy with a ROCK on a HIGHWAY… it’s just not worth it… trust me... i know...


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Crazy Americans! Now where is it that you left your keys?

OK, so this was in the local newspaper (or something really close to this) about a month after we immigrated here from The Netherlands.

“The Bluffton Sheriff’s department is asking all residents to take their keys out of the car and or close car windows while shopping at the local grocery store (Yes, this would be your local Walmart).”

And I just could NOT stop laughing, I really almost peed my pants while running over to mom and dad to show them this little article on page 4 of the local newspaper!

We really had a hard time believing what we just read so we read it again, and again...

We had already noticed a HUGE difference in “what people do” here, and with here I mean, local Indiana, in the middle of nowhere, county living, RURAL AREA, Indiana. They sure had different methods of leaving their keys somewhere else than what we were used to coming from the Netherlands.

In Holland you need to lock EVERYTHING. This includes: Cars; first of all, lock them with CLOSED windows! Second, hide your CD player, phone, I-pad, kids toys! And do not leave laptops or other important devices in your car because your car will be broken into or (worse) just be plain GONE! Bicycles; have at least two locks, and maybe an extra chain that you can put around your bike and wrap it around a lantern post. You probably will lose your bike anyway to some drunk person who couldn’t find his or her bike and just took yours. Good thing we have HUNDREDS of bikes in Holland… Your wallet; have a big HEAVY chain on it, chained to your jeans otherwise somebody else WILL TAKE IT!

Especially walking in a big city like Amsterdam it would be even smarter to keep your wallet close to your body under lot’s and lot’s of layers of clothes. It WILL be gone before you have even noticed it! Your tractor; yes, in these days even tractors are not safe anymore, they will take them and run them into a big semi and ship them off to different parts of Europe. And finally your house, never ever leave your house unlocked, not even for five minutes to borrow a cup of sugar at your sweet little old lady (that your barely know) neighbor! Your house will be empty by the time you drank her tea and eat the old stale cookies and got back!

Soooo now you know how it works in Holland. Well, this is how it worked in rural Indiana. And maybe you can understand our confusion. And my big “WHY?” Every time I would see something like a running or unlocked car.

People leave their cars running in the winter while they are shopping. “Why???” Because otherwise the car will be cold by the time they get back. People leave their cars running in the summer while they are shopping. “Why???” Because otherwise the car will be hot by the time they get back. To me this sounds like “LAZY” all over, but maybe I’m just looking at it wrong and should I look at it as “SMART”?!? But what if somebody would see you car and drive off with it...

People leave their cars windows down in the summer while they are shopping. “Why???” Because (normally these are the crappier/older cars) they have NO air condition and otherwise the car will get hot while they are shopping… I do have to admit having a older BMW with no air conditioner it was pretty tempting to leave the windows down… And then my CD collection of Matchbox Twenty kicked in and I walked back to my car after walking 10 steps away from it and closed the windows… What if somebody would take my Rob Thomas…

People leave their cars unlocked while shopping. “Why???” I have no idea…. Maybe because it is always a hassle to find your car keys when you are pushing a full cart…? That was the only reason I could think off…. Well... It is pretty annoying to dig out your keys while your cart strolls off into a empty neighboring car that DOES have the engine running…

People have their houses unlocked while they are going on a vacation for THREE WEEKS?!? “Why???” Because they forgot to lock it and they took their keys with them? Maybe? I really didn’t get this one but after a couple of nights laying awake pondering this I came to the conclusion that maybe grandma didn’t have a spare key…

So yes, crazy American’s. Right?!?

To be honest I am a bit torn on this one. One side of me says, “Who is the crazy now?” The Dutchies because they have come too such a sad society they cannot trust anybody anymore and have to lock everything everywhere…  And the other side of me says; The “Crazy Americans”, who just leave everything out in the open and don’t lock a thing, anywhere, because they trust each other to leave the stuff that is yours, yours and the stuff that is mine, mine?!?

I kinda like the idea of not having to lock up your belongings all the time and that you have enough faith in your fellow earthlings that they don’t steal your stuff all the time….

But… I still lock my car…. And our house…. And I still hide my wallet in a special compartment in my handbag…

Crazy me?


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If you missed the first "Crazy Americans" please check out Crazy Americans & Public Restrooms !

Vanilla Bean Ice Cream and little brothers

We were raised in a good "old fashion" Dutch way. This meant we only had one glass of pop a day (normally this would be coca cola because we don’t have Mountain Dew in Holland). There would be a cookie waiting at us when we came home from school and on Saturday’s we had a private party because we got a little bowl of chips. And on Sunday some candy when we visited grandma… But that would be IT as far as the sweets went. An apple, a pear, a banana, as much or as many as we wanted BUT NO SWEETS!

In the summer sometimes my mom and little sister made popsicles out of water with usually a strawberry flavor. They were really tasty but if you would suck hard enough the strawberry flavor would be gone and all you had left was frozen water.

But sometimes my mom would buy some REAL ice cream! And yes this would be vanilla (hehe) and she would make us little bowls and then we could put sprinkles on them or wiped cream (my dad’s favorite). And if it was a real real special occasion we would have the popsicle faces with a gumball as a nose on it or those really fancy looking Magnums that were huge!

It was a beautiful day and we were all playing outside. We had some great swings and a sandbox behind our house in between the two pig barns. I vaguely remember it was a Saturday or Sunday and me and my sister were playing with our dolls and bears in the sandbox (yes I know, dirty dolls) and my little brother was driving around on his “skelter”. This is a little four wheeler but you have to paddle with your own two feet instead of having a little engine doing all the work for you…

Our mom came out and brought us an ice cream (so it defiantly must have been a Saturday or Sunday) and while my sister and I enjoyed our ice in the sandbox, Jan Willem was pretty content sitting on his skelter, licking and driving at the same time. After 10 minutes all of a sudden we hear a scream! Not the same kind of scream as when my little brother decided to see and FEEL what would happen if he peed on the electric fence .......... but similar…………………………….

My sister and I run over towards where our little brother had stranded and he was just holding his head and screaming his lungs out!?! We were is serious panic mode and while my little sister ran to fetch my mom i was holding my brother.

Mom hurried down and started to check all his vitals and trying to get him to come inside. After we got him inside and on the couch she called our doctor. The doctor asked all the standard questions but we really did not know what was wrong with him! Finally the doctor asked if he ate something. "Well", my mom said, "he just ate an ice cream not to long ago..." And that was IT! The doctor explained that he might have a 'Brain Freeze".

We had NO CLUE what that could be (and yes in Dutch Brain Freeze is still a Brain Freeze). So the doctor explained: It is caused by having something cold touch the roof of the mouth, and is believed to result from a nerve response causing rapid constriction and swelling of blood vessels and that results in you have pain going from the roof of you mouth to the top of your head. In this case my brothers head. The doctor also told my mom that he would be alright in a half hour...

And yes half and hour later, my little brother was paddling along on his "skelter" and me and my sister were playing with our dolls and my mom had recovered from her heart attack! Oh, those good old days, when little brothers could turn your world upside down...

My little brother still LOVES ice cream! And yes, so do I! So when i was asked to participate in the Ice Cream Flavor Face off by the Progressive Dairyman i was really excited! I didn't really know what to do,  but i had to pick a good flavor of ice cream! My flavor is Vanilla Bean, and somehow i managed to get into the second voting round (totally unexpected i might add)!

Sooooo, now i would like to ask you.... please, please, pretty please... can you hop over to The Progressive Dairyman and cast your vote??? We are only in Round Two yet, so there are still some other flavors competing, but as long as you vote for VANILLA BEAN too... I will be the happiest girl in the world!

Thanks so much and if I get true into the next round, i promise, I'll try to write another funny story about ice cream...

THANKS!!!


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How to become a pyromaniac

Yep, you’re reading this right. I’m going to tell you the basic rules about becoming a pyromaniac.

First: you need a LOT of wood.
There is just no fun in burning down somebody’s house, barn or shed…Well OK, if it is a really really old barn or shed and there is nothing in it no more except spiders (burn baby burn) and it is a real sore to the eyes… maybe then you could… BUT you have to have permission from the owner…

Second: You need some fuel.
Yes I know with the fuel prices these days, you’re not gonna spill a whole gallon on a big fire, but trust me, you get GREAT satisfaction when you see that all the wood goes up in flames… well... if your still not convinced you can always use some used oil from tractors, lawnmowers, cars and scooters…

Third: You need a wheelbarrow, a shovel and a pitchfork.
In order to create a good fire that last a couple of hours you need the wheelbarrow to bring all the branches and wood to the fire. And you need the shovel and pitchfork to clean up the fire and make sure it doesn’t get too big or out of control (as in burning your house down).

And finally: You need supportive parents!
Well actually the parents are the REAL pyromaniacs but you can’t tell the neighbors, they might get scared!

In Holland you are not allowed to burn anything. We used too maybe 10 - 15 years ago but nowadays you can’t do anything anymore not even making a nice little fire in your back yard. You have to remember Holland is one third the size of Indiana and Indiana has 3.3 million people whereas Holland has 16 million. Yep…. That is why, no fires in The Netherlands…

When we finally got our visas and moved here in February of 2006. We were happily surprised that the weather was already 60 degrees Fahrenheit (the ONLY year that happend since we been here!). Me and my dad had spotted a great little house not far from where the dairy was going to be, a couple of months before we actually moved, and we had contacted the lady who owned it. She really didn’t want to rent it out but after we convinced her that we really were “nice” and “decent” people and our sweet crop farmer put in a good word for us she let us rent the house.

Now you all want to know what we did those first couple of days…. Right???

Well, we burned and burned and burned! All the leaves, all the old branches, entire threes, the half collapsed chicken coops (yes there were several) and after 2 weeks of burning stuff we had nothing to burn anymore. It was 40 acres of forest after all... took some time to clean up... The best thing was that my mom and dad had a smile on their faces from morning till evening because they felt so liberated! You could burn things here! No, the police would not show up. The neighbors wouldn’t call the fire department just because the smoke would come their way. No way! This is the land of the free!!!

Having a little fire every evening really made us feel happy and content with the huge decision of immigrating to this beautiful country. And yes every now and then we turn into little pyromaniacs again (especially when my little sister comes over from Holland), and we have ourselves a little bonfire and enjoy this immense country and eachothers company.

 
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Crazy Americans & public restrooms

Ok…
American’s can be a tat crazy…
I know I know, Dutch people are cheap…
Belgium people are not so smart (or so they say)…
And French people just DON’T wanna talk English when you are on vacation in Euro Disney…

No typing and peeing!







We love to put people in small little boxes, so we can make ourselves feel better. This post is not about that! I love everybody, every ethnic group, every religion, every culture, every “we do it our way” and this post is just meant to be funny and make you think (a bit).

Since we immigrated to this beautiful country I have noticed some strange things and some of them make me lay awake at night and think and some just make me chuckle and turn my head. I would love to share these thoughts with you and hope you’ll enjoy and maybe get a chuckle out of it as well…

So here we go with my first “Crazy Americans!”

The things you see when you first come into this country are astonishing! EVERY THING IS BIG, OR BIGGER, well except for the public restrooms that is!

And i'm sorry to say but he people are truly bigger here too. (I see the difference getting smaller, USA versus Europe lately, but 15 years ago the difference was really shocking). My sweet aunt took me to a local grocery store and that is where I encountered my first “obese lady”. I can tell you my mouth and jaw almost reached the street, and I had to sneak behind her to watch again, and again, to make sure my brain was NOT playing tricks with me. She had a normal big size torso, normal big size legs but her butt was almost as big as the whole sliding door of the grocery store! I looked at my aunt and she just shook her head, as if to say, "keep your manners and don’t stare". But I just couldn’t help myself. I had seen nothing like this in my sixteen years being on this planet…

An American restroom...














A couple of weeks into my stay here we went to the movies. I think it was Star Wars but I could be wrong, and I desperately needed to go to the bathroom. I walk into the bathroom and the first thing I notice is that there is about ONE INCH AND A HALF of room between the door and the frame!

“WHAT’S THIS?!?”

“How am I suppose to pee, if anybody that walks by can just watch me sit there and do my business!!??” You feel embarrassed enough when the walls don’t go all the way up and if you pee everybody can hear you, but SEE you… Well that is a whole different dimension!

So while I’m sitting there figuring out how I can pee comfortable without anybody peeking in, I was thinking about how I came in this little restroom in the first place. The door opens INWARDS!!! “Hmmmm, why would that be….?”

Soo I finally got the peeing done with and was pretty proud of myself for not sounding too loud and I got up, try to open the door and to my amazement (what I didn’t “get” coming into the toilet) I almost had to sit back on the seat in order to open the door and get out! And you have to keep in mind at age 16 I weighed about 50 kilo’s…. uhmmm… 114 pounds...

Even in Moscow they have doors that open outwards!






From that moment on I have checked every public restroom (I know, I know, who’s crazy now…) But for every 20 public toilets there is only one that has a door opening OUTWARDS! So now we go back to that lady at the supermarket in 1995. If I already have so much trouble getting in an out a public restroom (and yes this includes, your Walmart, your rest areas, your restaurants, your movie theatres, your casino’s, your schools, your racetracks your airports, your public buildings, your hospitals, and so on and so on) besides the fact that it is just embarrassing to hear or SEE somebody pee (or worse), how on earth does the average American women who in most cases is slightly bigger than me, manage to get in and out of the restroom in a decent manner???

And no I haven’t had the guts to check the men’s restrooms, but I’m sure it can’t be that different from the ladies…


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Wordless Wednesday on Thursday...

Yes, this pretty much sums it up for yesterday....

Good thing we have Calvin & Hobbes to put things in perspective!

Hope you have a WONDERFUL Thursday!!!


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Tractor Disaster! The big bang theory

My best friend is one of those girls who has balls…

I know this doesn’t sound very lady like but let me explain. When we were in High school we had to go do a practical training period of one week at another school, usually in the northern part of Holland where we wouldn't sit in a classroom but drive tractors, milk cows and do stuff “for real”. This training would be one week long and when we finished that week we would return to our own school and get new theoretical things to study.

And because we went to a High school especially for the Agricultural sector there were a LOT of boys and not so many girls…

Kamie was awesome driving the tractor, not like me as you can read in Tractor Disaster & Tractor Disaster, Driving in Circles, but really really good! Of course the boys thought they were better and so it would be amazing to see her jump on the tractor with tanker, put it in reverse and back it up 500 feet true an overhead door, with no more than a couple of inches to spare on each side of the tanker, into a barn… You should see the faces of those boys when she would do that… pure jealousy, pure lust (after all it where teenage boys) and pure and utter disbelieve that a GIRL was capable of doing such a thing with a tractor!

I just stood by and watched ‘my girl’ do her thing…

In high school we also had to go to a local farmer and spent one day a week for half a year on their farm. This was believed good for your education because you could practice the things that you had learned in class on that farm and ask the teacher or farmer questions that might arise.

I went to a dairy farmer… can you believe it… and I would help him milk in the morning, feed the cows, clean the (free stalls) beds and helped the farmer with whatever needed to be done that day. I was pretty determined to do it right and after a couple of weeks; the farmer asked me if I could come in the weekends too. I thought this was a good idea, learn more about dairy farming and make some money, so one day I could buy my own BMW (hehe…)!

On a beautiful spring day, after milking was done, the farmer asked me if I could drive a tractor. I told him “yes, I can…”. I also explained to him that I didn’t do so well on my final exam but that I had been doing some practicing and that every day that went by I felt more comfortable, not as comfortable as my best friend (i told him about the boys and her driving) but comfortable enough...

Don’t tell me I didn’t warn him…

Soooo, long story short, he put me on the tractor to spread the grass he was cutting. My tractor had a machine (rake) behind it which you normally would use to make nice little rows (dunes) of cut grass, but instead of me making nice little dunes I needed to spread the grass around, this is called 'raking'. Imagine that the grass he cuts is laying in a nice little neat row, but no air can get underneath that pile of grass, so I needed to drive over it and “spread” it over the entire field so a lot of air can dry the grass quicker. If the grass is dry enough, you take the same machine, but adjust it a bit and make nice little rows (dunes) again, so the farmer can bale it. Some people make little bales (normally for horses) or big bales (for cows) and feed this to their animals.

He had cut all the grass and I was just driving around in circles over the fields spreading grass, having a good time. I made sure that my tires were good and i wasn't bleeding… yeah…. And that I didn’t drive true any holes and stuff.

After lunch I headed back to “my field” and started up again. There were some posts in the field… normally this is not a problem, but I didn’t see the post until I was already past it… Which is no good…

I stopped the tractor immediately and to my amazement one of the rakes went already past the post and the second rake was right after that. So you had rake, post, rake.

My blond and healthy farmers instinct said, “Ok, just put the tractor in reverse and the rakes will go backwards and just roll out of that post again. My theory: roll in, you can roll out again… right???

Well, in theory it should have worked, except I forgot the PTO… a PTO is that thing that goes round and round which makes the actual rake do what it’s supposed to do. And you should NEVER put a tractor with a rake behind it in REVERSE…

There was a HUGE BANG!!! No not a little bang, or crack, NO A BANG that you can hear 5 miles away and the PTO, the tractor and the rake stopped and things were FLYING!!! And really, all the blood that was running true my body just stopped running… “OH, OH, OH…. What have I DONE???"  While I was recuperating, the farmer, who lived half a mile from where I was raking, came running up to me! Yes, Dejavu all over again…. PTO broke, rake broke, some wheels inside the rake broke.... disaster all over...

Important lesson to be learned here; NEVER EVER EVER put your tractor in reverse when your PTO is still on….

I was allowed to come back to the farm the next week. My school was called and their insurance was not happy with me… I brought the farmer a homemade pie…



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Monday’s: Please can I have a pedicure???

Our cows are getting pedicures! They get them about twice a year, and sometimes they even get another special treatment!

On our large dairy we milk 2200 cows and to make sure we give our ladies the best of pretty much everything we also have their feet trimmed! In the following weeks I will describe what generally happens on any given day of the week here at our farm. And what better day to start with is a Monday!

Every Monday our hoof trimmer Billy comes and he will trim our cow’s feet. He will do anywhere from 80 -100 cows a day. And If I say a day, that means 80 cows in 8 hours…

Billy comes from a different part of Indiana and he brings his own chute (this is a device where you put the cows in to get trimmed). This chute is pretty nifty because it will pick the cow up to "working level" (so our dear Billy doesn’t get to many problems with is back) and has “leg holders” to put the particular leg of the cow in so Billy can work on it. This holder will also bring the foot closer to Billy so he can have a good look at them. He will make an assessment and then he will trim and or treat.

Because our cows walk on concrete most of the time it is very important to take a good look at them regularly. We do have rubber mats in our parlor for the cows (we have a parallel parlor, this means our cows stand in the parlor side by side and get milked from behind) so every time they have to make a 90 degree turn, it doesn’t have such a bad impact on their feet or legs).

Sometimes Billy has an assistant who helps him get the cows into the chute and make sure that the cows aren’t getting too stressed out because it’s a “new” thing. It isn’t really new to them but our cows like consistency, and if you only have a pedicure once every half year, it might throw them off a bit. If you have two guys, you yourself don’t stress as much, and the ladies will stay calmer and feel more comfortable as well. If Billy finds a cow who has an problem or an "auwie" he’ll make sure it will go away and he will put a nice little wrap (bandage) on her feet so the medicine stays in place and the dirt (manure) and liquid (water and pee) stays out.

We give our cows their pedicures about halfway true their lactation, and right before they go to the other farm (where they will be running outside, stand in the mud and play in the sun while being 7 months pregnant). During the week we will check and make sure none of the ladies needs a special treatment besides from their regular treatment, if they do we just write them on a chalk board and she will see Billy the following Monday.

Besides the trimming which Billy does, we also have a foot bath every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. The ladies will walk true a foot bath which is prepared for them by our guys. We put copper sulfate and a special organic booster in this bath. This copper sulfate and organic booster will kill off the bacteria and will clean and dry out the hoofs.

Yep, those girls are pretty lucky… Their feet get way more attention than mine!

If you have any questions or would like to see or hear some other things that happen here at our farm, please write me a comment and i will try to work it in!


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Wordless Wednesday

Don't EVER eat your own earplugs... Trust me, they don't taste all that good...

If you want the story behind this picture...
CHEW ON THIS! I had some problems yesterday with the comment box but after i fixed it, some people left some fantastic comments! I would love to hear your stories about nightmares and sleepwalking!

But if you want to look at beautiful pics you can go visit the Real Farm Wives of America for all the ladies Wordless Wednesday posts!

Have a wonderful day!


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