If We Make It Through December

Around 1976 we moved from a house in town to a house that sat on 5 acres in the middle of some piney woods.  It was quite a change for us.  We had room to roam, build forts in the woods, ride a mini bike on trails we made, dig sassafras roots and make homemade 'root beer,' hunt and fish.  It was a neat childhood.

In town we walked to school as we lived right across the street from it.  However, when we moved to the country, we rode the bus to school.  We'd wait at the bus stop in front of the house.  Mrs. Pitre was our school bus driver.  She had an 8-track tape player on her bus, and she introduced us to classic country music - Ronnie Milsap, Conway Twitty, Merle Haggard, Charlie Pride and the list goes on and on.

I remember a Merle Haggard song we learned on Mrs. Pitre's bus, "If we make it through December."  Merle sang, "If we make it through December, everything's gonna be alright, I know."  Good memories.  Windows down in the bus, with a breeze blowing through your hair as you were heading home in the afternoon.  Merle Haggard blaring as we sang along.  Getting dropped off and hearing Merle's voice trailing off as the bus drove out of sight, "If we make it through December we'll be fine." 

Speaking of December, even though tomorrow it will be July...  Above is Aussie.  He is Rosie's bull calf.  His Daddy was a registered Jersey bull from Australia.  We also have Clarabull.  He is Clarabelle's bull.  Get it?  Well, beef prices are very high in grocery stores due to processing issues caused by Coronavirus.  I had a gentleman that stopped in our driveway this weekend wanting to buy one of our bulls.  I had to tell him they are not for sale.

Because... I asked Tricia to call and make an appointment for them at the slaughterhouse.  I was surprised to learn that the soonest we could get them in is December 23rd!  All the slaughterhouses are that backed up.  I assume with high beef prices, everyone is taking their own animals to the butcher shop.  Our freezer will be just about empty of beef by that time.  I know it is a long way away, but like Merle sang, "If we make it through December, we'll be fine...."

Put A Little Gravel in Your Travel

On late afternoons/early evenings in the summer, Tricia glances out of the kitchen window and sees the sun casting long shadows.  That is a 'bat signal' for us to take a "Sunday Stroll" even though it is not Sunday.  We jump in the car and drive westward for about a mile.  One left turn puts us on gravel roads for as far as the eye can see.  You can see what I'm talking about in the photo below if you look in the passenger side mirror.

The gravel makes a crunching sound under the car tires and the dust kicks up billows that trail behind the car as we drive out in the countryside.  We pass no traffic.  It is quiet.  There are rice fields on either side of the road.

We take in the sights and sounds.  We pass a (relatively) ancient farm implement on a turnrow.  I explain to Tricia and Benjamin what it is.  This contraption was a levee packer.  Once levees in rice fields were pulled up, you'd pull this on top of the levee to pack it down.  It is made of solid concrete, shaped like an hour glass.  This thing hasn't been used for quite some time.  It will likely hold down this spot until Jesus returns, biding its time, watching, if it could, changes taking place in the surrounding landscape.

A snake slithers stealthily across the road.  I speed up and run over it, but it is not affected and continues on its belly until it reaches the ditch.  Water is gushing out of a drop pipe as water is being turned loose from surrounding crawfish ponds.  Crawfish season is coming to an end.  Egrets and shore birds scavenge the pond bottoms for aquatic snacks that have been exposed as the water level drops.

We continue westward for a few miles as we sing along to old country music and come upon a field of recently baled hay, reminding us that we'll soon be putting hay up in our hay loft - a truly hot job!

The hay will soon be picked up and arranged in rows along the fence row to allow for fresh growth and another cutting or two of hay before dormancy.

Soon we turn left on the Roanoke Highway.  It is a blacktop road, smooth and quiet.  It leads us to the pot of gold at the end of our rainbow.  We always end up at a gas station that sells BOUDIN BALLS.  It is a concoction of boudin stuffing, rolled in batter and deep fried.  There should be a 12 step program to help you get off these things.

We spread out napkins on our laps and feast as we slowly start our 5 mile trip back home, retracing our steps on the gravel road.  The boudin balls hit the spot!

We head back to the homestead just as the sun finds its way back home beneath the western horizon.

Nothing like a peaceful, pastoral, afternoon drive - away from civilization, almost stepping back in time in the countryside.  A simple afternoon with simple pleasures for a simple man.

Harvesting Black Beans

We planted some Black Beans again this year.  Officially, they are called Black Turtle Beans.  They are very common in Latin American and Caribbean cuisine.  We've eaten refried black beans.  I decided to try growing them again.  Growing them is a little different than growing snap beans, for instance.

What you want to do is to allow the beans to ripen on the bush.  Below, you can see the ripening black beans on the left side of the photo below.  On the right side of the photo you can see sweet potato vines.

Here is an up-close photo of black beans that are ready to pick.  The only thing I can tell you to clue you in that they are ready is that the bean pods will be brown and "crinkly" when you touch them.  You don't want to harvest before they are dried.  On the other hand, if they get close and you get a lot of rain, you run the risk of your beans sprouting in the pod.

I used an old #10 can to walk the rows and pick all the dried pods off the black bean bushes.  Then I brought them inside and spread them out on a platter.

They don't look appetizing at all.  In fact, they look dry, dead, ugly and inedible.

However, when you crack open the pod to expose what's inside, you can see beautiful, shiny black beans.

Normally, I'd sit outside and shell them.  However, this weekend, the humidity was so high, it felt like I was drinking in air instead of breathing it.  I opted to sit in the kitchen and make a big mess while I shelled the black beans.  I turned on some old country music and sang along with Merle Haggard as I shelled them.  I had quite a pile of empty pods when I was done.

I also had a big bowl of black beans, too!

I have a lot of black beans left to pick.  Many of the pods were not quite dried.  Next weekend, weather permitting, I'll go out and pick some more black beans.  I'll be sure to save about 50 of the prettiest beans to use as seed for next year.  Speaking of next year, I plan on doing the same thing with Red Kidney Beans so that we can grow our own Red Beans for Red Beans & Rice & Sausage.

Making Queso Fresco (Fresh Cheese)

This past week we had some extra milk.  Our cows were eating some fresh green grass in the yard and we saw a sharp increase in production.  Tricia had an idea on what to do with some of the excess - she'd make some cheese.  We hadn't made any in a while and were excited to make some more.  Tricia uses The Home Cheese Making book by Ricki Carroll.

Queso Fresco is a Mexican farm cheese that is made from raw cow milk. Tricia found the recipe in the book and followed it.

Queso Fresco is a relatively easy cheese to make.  You don't have to age it.  You can eat it right away.  Tricia took a gallon of Clarabelle's milk and warmed it to 90 degrees.  The bacterial culture was added to acidify the milk.  Then the rennet (enzyme) was added to make a separation take place between the solid curds and liquid whey.  Let it set until the curds make a clean break.  Then cut the curd into cubes and bring the temperature up to 95 degrees gradually while stirring.  Let the curds sit undisturbed for 5 minutes and then drain off the whey.  Add salt and keep at 95 degrees for 35 minutes.  Put your curds in a mold lined with cheesecloth.  Press at 35 pounds pressure for 6 hours.

To do this, we pulled out our cheese press that our friend, Dale Smith made for us.  This is quite a fancy rig.  Essentially, this device presses the whey out of the cheese.  Varying weights are placed in the cradle to the right to achieve the correct pressure each cheese calls for.

By using different settings, specific pounds of pressure is applied.  There are different settings depending on the type of cheese you are making and whether the cheese is softer or harder.

The press pushes a disk downward and the resulting pressure pushes the whey out of the curds.  The whey is collected in a container beneath the press.

When done, we pull out a nice wheel of Queso Fresco...

Tricia cut a wedge out of the queso fresco.

Finally, for supper last night, Tricia made envueltos (enveloped or wrapped).  They are similar to a chicken enchilada with a tomato gravy and homemade Queso Fresco grated on top.

It was delicious!  We'll be trying making a different variety of cheese soon prior to drying off the cows.

Farm to Table

As our temperatures hover in the 90's day after day, the garden is quickly dwindling.  The cucumbers are playing out, the corn is finished, the green beans are "on their last legs," and the squash is showing signs of "giving up the ghost.  The tomatoes are tiring.  Those that still bear fruit are being attacked by hordes of stink bugs.

The produce in the garden that really carries us through until the fall is cow peas (southern peas) and okra.  We grow purple hull peas, blackeyed peas, and ozark razorback peas.  They thrive in hot weather and laugh at the other garden vegetables that wither in the summer heat.

We are picking the last of our green beans (Contender and Blue Lake).  I think that green beans are my favorite garden vegetable.  I can't get enough of them.  As a kid when my parents were trying to get me to eat my vegetables, I think green beans got my foot in the door.  I just love 'em.  I fresh pick 'em in the garden, bring them in and wash them up.  We snap the ends off of them, usually picking when they are young and tender. 

Simply lightly sauteing them in butter is a perfect side dish, but I'll show you what we do when we want to kick it up a notch.  We add bacon.  Is there any dish that can't be improved by adding bacon?  I think not.

We arrange the fresh green beans in little bundles and wrap with bacon.  We add a little brown sugar or molasses to the top of each bundle and pop the tray in the oven.

Holy, moly, is this good!

Use a spatula to put a bundle on your plate and it makes you feel like you are in a fancy schmancy restaurant.

We've blanched a number of green beans and frozen them in quart freezer bags to enjoy when they are out of season.  In mid-August I'll plant a couple of rows of green beans so that we have more to enjoy!

Cool Hand Cuke

The cucumber crop from Our Maker's Acres Family Farm is coming to a close after a very prolific season.  We plant two varieties - Boston Pickling Cucumbers and Suyo Long Cucumbers.  I like them both.  They climb on a trellis in the back part of the garden.  We have been eating cucumbers every day for weeks and weeks.

We eat them many different ways.  So far this year, we haven't made pickles like dill pickles or bread and butter pickles.  Tricia made her traditional Lacto-Fermented pickles, though.  She slices up the cukes, puts them in a quart jar, adds 4 tablespoons of whey (a by-product she gets when making kefir), 1 tablespoon kosher salt and adds water to fill the jar.  Then she'll sit the jars out for two days and then refrigerates them.  They'll last for quite a while.  The lacto-fermented pickles are crispy and salty.

I have to admit that I like dill pickles, but Tricia has never been a big cucumber-eater.  However, with the lacto-fermented pickles, she really enjoys them.

Another way that we enjoy eating them is in a fresh cucumber salad.  It is so cool and refreshing!  We dice up cucumbers fresh from the garden, slice up some purple onions that we just harvested, add some cut up homegrown tomatoes we just picked and toss in some blueberries from our bushes.  Finally, drizzle vinegar and oil over the top and add sea salt and cracked black pepper.  Allow to chill and you have a fantastic salad!

It's just not summer without a nice cucumber salad!

Once we polish off the last of the cukes this summer, I'll try to get a fall crop planted in late August so that we can enjoy a few more salads.  Perhaps we'll re-stock the pantry with more dill pickles with the Fall Crop.

Faith of our Fathers

Dateline: Father's Day 2020

Father's Day is always a happy day.  We woke up early and got the chores done.  We had homemade blueberry muffins and visited.  Then off to church where we had Sunday School and Morning Worship Services.  We read the following verses:

Ephesians 6:1-4
1 Children, obey your parents in the Lord: for this is right.
2 Honour thy father and mother; (which is the first commandment with promise;)
3 That it may be well with thee, and thou mayest live long on the earth.
4 And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

We sang beautiful, old hymns like "Faith of our Fathers" and "This is My Father's world."  We had a great sermon, shook hands and hugged and then headed out.  On special days like this, we normally dismiss evening services so that we can spend time with family having a family altar.

Our plans involved driving approximately 30 minutes to Kinder to spend time celebrating with my Dad.  On the way, I took this photo:

Call me a sentimental, patriotic dude, but it always does something to me to see Old Glory waving in the breeze against a blue sky.

We showed up and ate crawfish etouffee and garlic bread.  We looked at old photographs from 1950 - 1970 and reminisced and talked of old family stories.  My Dad's sister, Aunt Cheryl was in from Dallas, and we laughed and talked and talked and talked.  We retired to the back patio where we enjoyed coffee and later, a big, fat, sweet watermelon.

A lot these days is being said about privilege.  As I think about it, I am privileged.  I don't think of it in the context that it is being thrown around, though.  My privilege comes from being raised in a family where my Dad & Mom both raised me and my siblings, teaching us to fear the Lord.  Attending church every time the doors were open was not a suggestion, but a rule.  We learned values, character, integrity, and the value of good, old-fashioned hard work. 

When I messed up, I was punished.  When I really messed up, I was spanked with all sorts of things - a belt, a hand, a hairbrush, a wooden spoon and the all-time worst thing - a switch freshly plucked from a bush growing in the woods.  "This is gonna hurt me worse than it is gonna hurt you" was a phrase I heard a lot from my Dad and Mom immediately preceding a whipping.

Was it a perfect family? No.  Did I always do the right thing? No.  Did my parents make mistakes? Yes.  But that was just it, we stayed together as a family unit, loved each other and moved forward.  Everything good I've ever attained is due to the efforts of my parents.  Everything bad is on me.  So as I reflect, do I have privilege?  A resounding yes.  And I hope I, in turn, have given the same privilege to my (now grown) kids.

Happy Father's Day, Dad.  I love and appreciate you!  Thanks for all you do and have done.

What Lies Beyond the Back Fence

Just beyond the south perimeter fence of our property lies a patch of wilderness.  It only encompasses an acre, but its unruly, unkempt wildness makes it seem bigger.  We've talked about it before.  It is home to invasive species of trees like privet, Chinese Tallow, and Chinaberry.  These trees are constantly encroaching on our property, threatening to reclaim the land.  So far we've won the battle.

The woods are also home to predators.  Six foot long chicken snakes slither out of the tall grass and into the hen house to eat eggs and baby chicks.  Possums invade nightly and we are in a fight for our chickens' lives against these predators and others.  Raccoons, hawks, and owls patrol as well, picking out supper from time to time.

The hen where most of the chickens roost for the night is supposed to provide some level of safety for the hens as it is completely closed off by tin with a chicken wire bottom enclosure for ventilation, but alas...  Our nosy goats rub themselves on the chicken wire to scratch.  After months of rubbing, they broke a hole in the chicken wire and gained entry to the hen house.  They have gotten into a habit of climbing into the hen house through the hole in the wire and they "roost" with the hens at night.  Crazy goats!

While the hole in the wire gives them access, it also gives predators access as well.  I had to bury a fat Rhode Island Red hen just yesterday.  This has to stop!  This afternoon, I assembled wire, lumber, a crowbar, hammer, nails, wire cutters and a heavy duty stapler.  I was determined to evict the goats from the hen house and fix the hole in the wall.  I drug the goats out.  The were reluctant, but knew that they didn't belong.  They immediately ran behind the hen house to gain access through the hole, but I had fixed it.  I smiled in victory!  No more goats in the hen house and no more predators.

I will leave things on a good note.  While I mentioned all the bad things about the bordering woods, I need to mention the good things, too.  The woods provides a sense of wildness that is much more appealing to me than manicured lawns and development.  The acre of wooded area provides us with fat, sweet dewberries to eat.  I also have made a friend that lives in the woods.  The friend comes hopping by every weekend morning when I milk the cows.  Tricia has seen him/her too.

Ol' Peter Cottontail hoppin' down the bunny trail.  Hippity Hoppity...

We Set a Record This Year

June 12, 2020.  I cranked up the lawnmower for the first time this season.  That is the latest that we've ever waited.  It required jumper cables to get the thing started, but I had treated the tank with fuel stabilizer over the off-season and in no time, it fired right up.  Most of our neighbors have been mowing for months, but we have been letting the cows mow.  It is quieter, peaceful and pastoral.  Instead of driving a lawnmower, we sit in the shade and have coffee and watch our lawnmowers work.

We have a solar-powered charger with temporary fencing on a reel that we use to separate the yard into paddocks that we rotate the cows through.  This postpones actually having to mow, and this year we made it all the way until June 12th to have to mow.  No, even after the cows eat, it doesn't have the nice manicured look.  Additionally, the cows leave their "calling cards" that you must dodge as you are walking across the yard, but all in all, the benefits to me are enormous.  Of course, if we lived where there was an HOA, we would have been kicked out of the neighborhood long ago.  The cows are happy that I kept my mower in the garage for so long.  They eat to their heart's content and then Rosie sits down and chews her cud in the shade underneath the pecan tree.

Clarabelle, however, keeps on eating.  She'll graze until it's time to put her back in the fenced in pasture.  I trust the solar-powered fence, but not enough to leave them in all night or if we leave the house during the day.  One time we weren't paying attention and someone driving by saw our cows out and walking down the road.  The neighbors knocked on our door and told us, and we had to run down the road and catch the escapees.

In this last paddock or two under the pecan trees, Tricia would like me to never mow and allow it to become permanent pasture.  I'm mulling that over.  It would require new fencing.  The photo below was right when we put the cows in.  We left the cows in here all Saturday and Sunday.  They really cleaned it up nicely when they were done.  I don't have an "after" photo.  Can you spot Tricia watching the cows eat?

Here she is!  She's swinging right by the "hot" wire.  The blue bucket in the background is the water tub we drag from paddock to paddock as the cows eat.  This Saturday we sat in the grass behind the swing and enjoyed the view and the unseasonably low humidity.

So we set a record this year - June 12th for the first mowing date.  Now, I need to see if I can parlay that saved time into productive time to get some things knocked off my to do list AND some time to relax!

And Just Like That... She's Back!

I had mentioned last week that our cat, Ginger, mysteriously disappeared.  Tricia had called me at work to tell me that Ginger had been missing since the afternoon before.  She missed supper and breakfast and was no where to be found.  She had never done that before.  She is an outside cat that hunts, but she also comes inside from time to time and is never far from home.

After two days we were more than concerned.  She was a family pet, but mostly was Benjamin's cat.  We have the worst luck with pets!  I went to a feed store in Sulphur, LA to get my solar powered electric fence charger worked on and noticed a hand-written sign announcing "Free Kittens."  I made a mental note to go back to the feed store, call the number and have them text me photos of the kittens.  However, Tricia mentioned, "How can we ever replace Ginger?  She was the perfect cat."

Well....  I got a text at work from Tricia in all caps saying, "GINGER IS BACK."  She just mysteriously showed up like nothing was wrong two days later.

What in the devil happened?  Where did she go?  Well, we'll never know since cats can't talk.  We do know she has a large cut next to her left eye.  She is acting real quiet and mainly naps all day.  She was initially having a difficult time hopping up on anything, so we assume she's sore.  But by Sunday afternoon, she had jumped on top of my car and was napping.

If I had to guess, I'd say she got into a scuffle with a raccoon, a possum, a dog, or other wild animal.  She probably got beaten and climbed up into a tree to nurse her wounds and escape her adversary.  Once the coast was clear, she returned home.

So everyone is happy and all is right with the world.  Well, at least at Our Maker's Acres Family Farm.  I trust you all had a nice weekend.

Blueberry Pickin'

Every year beginning in early May and continuing through late June the blueberries begin ripening.  Each afternoon we circle our six blueberry bushes with buckets and pick and pick and pick.  Russ absolutely hates picking blueberries.  I don't mind it a bit.  Our bushes have grown large and unruly.  We need to prune them back so harvesting blueberries is an easier task.

It does take quite a while to pick, but that's okay with me.  At the end of the day, it is peaceful, relaxing, and rewarding.  As a bonus, Benjamin comes out and picks with me and we're able to discuss how things went at his work and mine.  We're able to talk about current events while going through the otherwise mundane task of berry picking.  It is interesting to hear the perspective from a college freshman regarding the latest headlines.  It gives me hope for the future.

Blueberries, fortunately, don't ripen all at once.  Some are dark blue (ripe) while others are in varying shades of ripeness - from green to peach-colored to pink.  The nice thing about blueberries is that you can pick them when they are not totally blue (but close) and they will continue to ripen.  We bring them inside, pour them into a colander, wash them up nicely, and leave them in the vegetable sink overnight.  The next day any that had a tinge of red, has turned dark blue.

Each day for weeks we pick a quart of nice blueberries.

After washing them, we freeze them on a tray and then, once frozen, we use a spatula to scrape the frozen blueberries into a gallon-sized ziploc bag and put into the deep freeze.  This way they are individually frozen and can be poured and measured for recipes.  We have several gallons of blueberries already in the freezer with many more to come.

In addition to snacking on them plain, we'll make blueberry muffins and pancakes, coffee cake, tarts, pies and smoothies.  Tonight, Tricia made homemade chocolate ice cream with fresh-picked blueberries and blackberries.  Sounds like a strange combination, but it works!  I had more than one bowl.  Tomorrow when I get home I'll go pick another quart.  I was surprised to learn that if you take care of your blueberry bushes, they'll live and produce berries for 40 - 50 years!  I'll be almost 104 when our bushes play out.  

Where Are You?

Ginger.  Has anybody seen her?

While at work today, I talked to Tricia and sensed some sadness in her voice.  "Ginger's missing," she said.  Ginger is our cat.  She's mainly an outside cat, but there are times that she spends time indoors, sleeping on her favorite chairs.  "The last time I saw her was yesterday afternoon," she told me.  "She was sleeping on the trampoline.  Then she didn't come in for supper, nor breakfast, and I haven't seen her all day."

I got home at around 6 pm and there was still no sign of her.  There was a heaviness in our home.  Finally, Benjamin drove in from work and we regretfully told him the news.  Ginger is primarily Benjamin's cat, but he loves all the animals.  He was very quiet - just sitting in silence on the stairs for a while.  We went out and picked blueberries together and talked.  I explained to him that loving someone or something makes you vulnerable.  You love them and then they are gone.  There is an emptiness.  It hurts.  A big part of you wants to wall yourself off to protect yourself and never wants to ever feel that loss again.  But you must.  Loss is a part of life.  You have great memories and there is great sadness, but you must go on.  Benjamin understands.

Have you ever lost an animal?  It's tough.  Pets can be a good companion.  Ginger hunted rats and has been known to catch the occasional squirrel or bird for a snack.  We've had a bad streak going with our pets.  First, Russ' cat disappeared and then both of our dogs died earlier this year to sickness within a month of each other.  Whew.  Time to lighten the mood with a little humor from "Dumb and Dumber." 

Ginger is wearing a pink collar with our phone number on it.  We have been hoping and praying that Ginger shows up soon.  Come on home, Ginger!

Just Another Day in Paradise

Emotions are high.  The news is discouraging.  One hit after another.  There seems to be no peace, no joy.  Even in times like this, you can choose to be happy.  You can choose to be grateful.  Regardless your station in life, if you sit back and choose to enjoy life that God has given you, you will be amazed at the enjoyment you get from simple things.  Dark thunderclouds (literal and figurative) can be rumbling all around you, but you can choose to walk in sunshine and blue skies.

Here's one thing that we've really found enjoyment out of lately.  With the weather warming up, we've gotten into a habit lately of cooking outdoors Sunday after church.  We bought a fire pit with a grill on top that swivels out of the way.  In an on-going chore with all the trees in the yard, we constantly pick up live oak and pecan twigs, branches, and limbs.  We gather it and use it as fuel for our outdoor cooking.

My Wife - Chillin' & Grillin'

The wood fire smells great as we sit back on the swing and visit, happy that we aren't heating up the house cooking indoors.  The birds chirp, the breeze blows through the trees, and the fragrance of sauteed mushrooms in a cast iron skillet and shish-ka-bobs waft through the air.  We talk about happy things and enjoy each others' company.  Despite everything going on, we can be grateful for God's blessings in our lives. 

We cherish the time and look forward for the food to be done.  We feast and then enjoy coffee and dessert.  The stresses of life dissipates as the embers cool.  The boys join us after church for our meal and family time.  We laugh hearty laughs and enjoy each other's company.

As I think about the small things that bring satisfaction in the midst of a tumultuous world, I'm reminded that no one's life is perfect.  I'm reminded that it is good to pause, reflect and enjoy the life God's given you.  Finally, I'm reminded that it is good to laugh - deep belly laughs.  Days like this are healthy for the soul and we commit to have more of them together.

Phil Vassar writes and sings some great songs and one in particular, "Just Another Day in Paradise" underscores the importance of enjoying, laughing, and giving thanks to God in the good times and bad.  It's one of those songs that are fun to sing along to and it's hard to be in a bad mood after listening to it.

I've posted the video below that you can listen to if you click the red arrow.  I also put the words to the song below.  I hope you enjoy it and it brings a smile to your face like I do when I hear it.

Just Another Day in Paradise - Phil Vassar

The kids screaming, phone ringing
Dog barking at the mailman bringing
That stack of bills - overdue
Good morning baby, how are you?
Got a half hour, quick shower
Take a drink of milk but the milk's gone sour
My funny face makes you laugh
Twist the top on and I put it back
There goes the washing machine
Baby, don't kick it.
I promise I'll fix it
Long about a million other things

Well, it's ok. It's so nice
It's just another day in paradise
Well, there's no place that
I'd rather be
Well, it's two hearts
And one dream
I wouldn't trade it for anything
And I ask the lord every night
For just another day in paradise

Friday, you're late
Guess we'll never make our dinner date
At the restaurant you start to cry
Baby, we'll just improvise
Well, plan B looks like
Dominoes' pizza in the candle light
Then we'll tippy toe to our room
Make a little love that's overdue
But somebody had a bad dream
Mama and daddy
Can me and my teddy
Come in to sleep in between?

Yeah it's ok. It's so nice.
It's just another day in paradise.
Well, there's no place that
I'd rather be
Well, it's two hearts
And one dream
I wouldn't trade it for anything
And I ask the lord every night
For just another day in paradise