Thank God I'm a Country Girl

NOT! I am a country girl wanna-be. I can't lasso a calf. I don't like to wear poop-kicker boots and walk amongst animal droppings. I get squeemish at just the thought of having to do real farm work, like helping a goat give birth (or worse). Nope, none of that is for me. I just like my beautiful chickens and have been quite thrilled the last 3 years that they are mainly maintenance free. You feed and water them and get wonderful fresh eggs.



Until now. We injured one of our young hens and she now has two broken legs. She can't walk. You would think it would be no problem to just slaughter, pluck, season & cook as desired. But we can't bring ourselves to do it. We are not real farmers. We are wanna be's, and not even very good wanna be's at that. I know, it is just a chicken and it would put her out of her misery, but to take a beautiful life just simply feels wrong.

We have her isolated and keep saying today is "the day", but we have been saying that for 2 weeks now. So you see, I am not a real country girl, but quite frankly, I am just fine being a wanna be.

Bob the Builder

Did your sons subject you to watching that show when they were toddlers? Mine sure did and naturally that stupid opening song would play over and over in my head for days. What torture! Well, I don't have a Bob the builder in my house, but I sure do have a Keith the builder.

He builds me all kinds of wonderful things! I could never list all the things he has built me over 16.75 years, but they all came out great and were incredibly useful. How thankful I am to have a handy husband! I have heard several of my friends say their hubbys never touch a hammer - how sad is that? I sure hope the boys get his gift for building things - especially if their wife wants something like this:

We have kicked the chickens out of the barn and into their own coop. It will free up quite a bit of space in the barn for more woodworking projects and such.

Thank you, Keith, for such a wonderful coop! The hens love yah, too!!!

My Baby turns 9!

Happy Birthday, James!

Can you believe it?? He sure is cute, ain't he?

Teenager Bathes in Purple Smoothie

Don't ask. I have no idea what happened.

Since I don't have a real job...

...I get to spend my mornings doing things like this:



Making fresh donuts from my freshly milled flour! I have this incredible donut recipe that makes the fluffiest donuts you have ever eaten.



And of course you must drink ice cold, farm fresh raw milk with them!


It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it!


I tell you, this not having a real job thing is pretty fun. I think everyone should try it.

Summer Goals

My goals this summer are going to be ones that are attainable. I don't want to get disappointed, so I am going to make them simple so I can feel like I have really succeeded. What are your goals this summer???

1. Swim at Foster Falls as often as possible
2. Bar-B-q lots of goodies
3. Pick lots of berries
4. Watch lots of birds and butterflies in my garden
5. Pick lots of flowers from my cutting garden
6. Sweat like a hog
7. Drink lots of iced tea
8. Make smoothies
9. Invite friends over
10.Have fun, fun, fun

Sunday Grilling

But it wasn't meat that was grilled. It was me. By two teachers. Back to back. At church. While we ate lunch. They don't get it. They stare blankly at my disdain for institutional education. I am not qualified to teach. How can I possibly teach high math? Who tells me what books to buy? How do I report to the government? They know a homeschooler. Who can't read. Or add. All homeschoolers, therefore, must be ill-educated. They ignore the fact that homeschoolers out score all other students. They win the national bees. Frankly, I don't care about test scores. Or bees, unless they are bumble. And then, I love them. Because they make honey. And honey is really incredible.

But I did not like being grilled. Or singed. I forgot all those clever come back answers I had rehearsed. I made one of them mad. I hope. I said moms know best. She left the table.

Next time, I will leave the table. Or say something clever. Or turn up the fire.

Cat on a Warm Barn Roof

Mittens has an afinity for napping on the apex of our barn.


She got aggravated to have her slumber interrupted with all the picture taking, but you couldn't tell by looking at her face, could you?

It's a good thing looks don't kill.