Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Adoption Tuesday - Shepherd's Field

My friend Lori from Five of My Own is in the process of adopting a darling little girl from the Shepherd's Field Facility in China. She put this video of the facility up on her blog a couple days ago and I thought I'd share it, as well. Very worthwhile organization that goes way beyond simply housing orphans, it provides much needed services to children with disabilities.

I hope you'll watch the clip and, more importantly, I hope you'll consider giving SF a donation to help with the costs of the care and services they provide so lovingly to these children in need.

Most importantly, of course, I hope you'll consider adopting, or at a minimum pass this along to someone might be open to it.





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Monday, January 30, 2012

Mirth Monday - Chris Rock

Gun control? We need bullet control! I think every bullet should cost 5,000 dollars. Because if a bullet cost five thousand dollar, we wouldn't have any innocent bystanders.

I don't get high, but sometimes I wish I did. That way, when I messed up in life I would have an excuse. But right now there's no rehab for stupidity.


If a woman tells you she's twenty and looks sixteen, she's twelve. If she tells you she's twenty-six and looks twenty-six, she's damn near fourty.

We got so much food in America we're allergic to food. Allergic to food! Hungry people ain't allergic to sh**. You think anyone in Rwanda's got a f**king lactose intolerance?!

"I ain't never been to jail!" What do you want, a cookie?! You're not supposed to go to jail, you low-expectation-having motherf**ker!

If a kid calls his grandma "Mommy" and his mama "Pam", he's going to jail!

That tiger ain't go crazy; that tiger went tiger! You know when he was really crazy? When he was riding around on a unicycle with a Hitler helmet on!
Talking about circus tiger that attacked Roy Horn of Siegfried & Roy




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Quotes courtesy: www.brainyquote.com and wikiquote.org
Image courtesy: pastemagazine.com

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Sunday Social - Mamfy

Next one down on my siggy line...

Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (14)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Cindy-Lou, Annabelle, Fiona, and Sophie; Mamfy, Mali, Milky and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.

I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...



Is Mamfy.
















Mamfy is our oldest cat.

When Rosie was about three years old, we went to a friend's house for a playdate. When we got there, a little kittie walked over to Rosie and started winding herself 'round Rosie's legs, purring for all she was worth. We mentioned the kitty to my friend, and she said,
"If you want that cat, you can have that cat. She was dumped off here a few days ago."

And I said, of course, "No, no, no, no thank you. We already have two cats. I don't think so."

You all know how this ended, don't you?

Yeah, we walked back out to my truck when the playdate was over, and little kittie made a bee-line straight back to Rosie again.
Rosie's little eyes made a bee-line right for mine and she pleaded in her little girl voice if she could't pweese pweese have da widdle kiddie.

Melt. Puddle.

It worked on her then and it still works on her now.

I'm pathetic.

So she named her Samantha, only her little girl voice couldn't say Samantha. She called her Mamfy and we called her Mamfy and all these years later she's still called Mamfy.
Mamfy, Mampy, Mampers, Mamps.

And she always has crusty eyes and she always has a hair-ball sounding whoormph thing goin' on and she sheds like it was what she was born to do and she does it with the passion of a zealot.

And she still winds herself 'round Rosie's legs and purrs like nobody's business.






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Saturday, January 28, 2012

My Kind of Day

I let the kids skip school yesterday so we could head to the mountains for some snow tubing. Because nothing says fun like sliding down a channel of man-made snow while perched on an inflatable tube in 60 degree weather.

I guess when I send the absence notes with the kids on Monday, I'll have to say it was an "educational family trip". What. Physics were involved. Gravity and mass and acceleration and stuff.

When we got there, we walked into this very nice and clean and inviting lodge, and when the woman asked me how many lift tickets, the number "seven" got stuck on my lips and wouldn't come out. I had a hot cup of coffee on one shoulder and my laptop on the other, both whispering sweet nothings into my respective ears. In a mini-trance from their siren songs, the number "six" came out instead of "seven".

And so six eager children ran out the door, lift tickets affixed to their zippers, and one lazy Mom headed to a table by the fire with a nice view of the tubing hill.

Lift tickets and tubes, $144,
Lunches and coffee and sodas at the lodge, $200
Dinner at the Cracker Barrel on the way home, $85,

Five hours of quiet computer time by the fire without the guilt of stuff I should be doing around the house.....priceless.




This is a patch of fog we drove through on our way.
I think we may have travelled back in time or something.
Wait, what year is it? It's 1985, right?




















Rosie and friend on deck of lodge during a photo shoot. I was inside blissfully uninvolved with any photography.





















Posting attempt #1: didn't have the memory card with me to upload the photos.
Posting attempt #2: Added photos.
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Friday, January 27, 2012

Farm Friday - I Dream of Waterers

My Amazon wish list is so stinkin' PATHETIC.

I'm sure the wishlists of all my suburban counterparts include books by Harold Robbins or Janet Evanovich. Or maybe they skip the books and wish for a little bling.

What did I just add to mine?


Oasis Poultry Waterer, On-demand Water for up to 15 Chickens, Turkeys or Ducks
by Coop Queen

In Stock.
Ships from and sold by Coop Queen.

Only 7 left in stock--order soon.















I currently have a couple of these:















Only mine aren't so pretty. See, after the last spell of cold weather, the contents bacame semi-frozen. But I'm a bit of a stubborn-slash-lazy gal, so instead of lugging these practically full waterers back to the house to thaw and scrub and refill, I began to gently bash them
yes, it is indeed possible to "gently bash" something
against the concrete to break up the ice so the water would begin to flow again.

Guess I kinda busted 'em. Now when I fill them, the water just keeps flowing right on outa there till it's empty. You could say "they can't hold their water" if you wannna chuckle.

Anyways, I found this MF genius contraption which would mean no more hauling waterers back and forth to the house, virtually no more scrubbing, and fewer freeze-ups. Plus I can put two of those pipe thingys off the bucket, and run one into the Hen House and one into the rabbit pen.

Do you have ANY idea how excited I am by this?

Like I said. I'm pathetic.











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Images courtesy: Amazon.com and tools.freightliquidators.com

Thursday, January 26, 2012

School on the Run, Revisited

I wrote this post just about three years ago, when James and Julie were fresh off the boat... er...plane:













Seemed like a simple plan when I made it. Clear the morning calendar. Make a nice space in the dining room for ESL (English as a Second Language) lessons. Every morning, get the other kids on the bus, then sit down with James and Julie and proceed to teach them English. Follow each well-taught lesson with a trip to the barn together for chores, and then a stroll down our country lane, pointing out the English words for familiar items such as fence, tree, goose. Throw a few bluebirds twittering around our heads and you get the picture.

Yeah. Well. That's happened all of like, twice. More commonly, we're picking one of the kids up from school to run them to the doctor or orthodontist, going to the grocery store for the third time in a week, schlepping out to the social security office for more paperwork, or any one of the myriad of things that keep popping up to fill these new gaps in my calendar.

So usually we have school on the run, as we listen to ESL CDs in the car or I point out things while we're driving around, like truck, bus, train, etc. Skojit "hobo". One drawback to this method is that I'm about to lose my friggin' mind. If I have to listen to this Bryan Adams wannabe and his cheesy accompanying musicians sing "What's Your Name" or "Supermarket Sally" one more time I am going to leap out the window and start playing in traffic. But the kids love it. "Mom, Mom, What's Your Name. Please? What's Your Name." OK. One more time ....

Another occupational hazard to being in the position of ESL teacher is that I've come to resemble a silent movie actor in my manner of speech. As I point out a new word to them, I am striving with every nuance of my facial expressions and body language to convey its meaning. Imagine, if you will, my melodrama as I teach by charade the words happy, or angry. While it seems helpful during the lessons, it's gotten to be a hard thing to switch on and off. I might say to someone, "I like your shirt (sweeping my arm up and down across my torso to indicate shirt). It's pretty (with a stupid happy face on). It's red (might gesture to several red things at this point)". They just look at me and I know what they're wondering. Where's her 'special helmet'?





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Image courtesy: school-view.org

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Wordless Wednesday

Rosie on Genevieve on a snowy winter's day.


























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Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Adoption Tuesday

Wow. It has been wayyyyy too long since I have advocated for any kids in need of adoptive homes, or discussed adoption issues. Let's get back on track, shall we?




Names: Christopher, Mercedez
Status: Available
Ages: 8, 7
Race: African American/Black
Gender: 1 male, 1 female
State: North Carolina








About the Siblings
Christopher is a sweet and mild tempered little boy who gets along well with just about everyone and is passionate about trains! Christopher enjoys playing with his electric train set and he also likes to watch TV shows and read books about trains. When he plays outdoors, Christopher stays active running, jumping and riding his bike.

Mercedez is an adorable, confident, and friendly girl. Even though she enjoy dolls and coloring, Mercedez is not a girlie girl; she likes rough and tumble play and is a spunky girl who wants things to go her way. She is a fast learner and is quickly catching up in academics.

Christopher and Mercedez enjoy new experiences, and have recently gone swimming and to the State Fair for the first time in their young lives. They are thriving in their current foster home due to the love, structure and consistency their foster parents provide them. Christopher and Mercedez require lots of attention, nurturing and love.

These two love each other dearly and are very attached, so their committee is looking for a family in which they can be the youngest children to get the attention they deserve. Ideally, they are looking for a two parent family who can work with them patiently as they transition from the foster home where they have bonded well, to their new adoptive home. Any family considered should have previous parenting experience. Christopher and Mercedez express a desire for and level of comfort with African American parents. If there are older siblings in the adoptive home, there should be a significant age difference between Christopher and Mercedez and the other children. Christopher would do well with an older sibling, particularly an older brother. Christopher and Mercedez's relationship with their younger siblings is extremely important to them so this connection needs to remain consistent and stable.

To learn more about this pair of sweeties, go to this page on the Adopt US Kids website.




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Monday, January 23, 2012

Mirth Monday - In Cold Blood

In honor of the first snow that we finally got this winter, I present to you:



My sister Mary Birdsong a number of years ago on the Jon Stewart show. Never fails to make me lol:













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Sunday, January 22, 2012

Sunday Social - Punkin

Next one down on my siggy line...

Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (14)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Cindy-Lou, Annabelle, Fiona, and Sophie; Mamfy, Mali, Milky and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.

I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...




Is Punkin.
















Tecnically, she's not next on the list, but I happen to have a picture of her ready to go, so I'm making her next.

I got her shortly after we first moved to this house, which would make her coming up on seven years old, I guess. I think we had two cats at the time, but I saw an ad for free kittens and one of them was a calico and, well, I've always had a thing for calicos. Turns out a homeless mother cat had a litter of kittens under someone's shrubs, and the woman of the house was kind enough to try to find homes for the wee ones once they were old enough.

And this little kitty I took home was soooo pretty and sooooo sweet.

And then one day I took her to the vet for shots and stuff. They took her to the back to draw blood and I'm sittin' in the waiting room mentally admiring the wonderful qualities of my many well-behaved animals when alls-a-sudden I hear this God-awful caterwauling from the back and I think to myself, my God. Who is making that terrible racket? That's horrible. I think I may have even giggled condescendingly at the thought that someone else's critters weren't as well behaved as mine.

I think you know how it ended. It was Punkin. As it turns out? Calico cats are kind of crazy. They're also always female (little trivia for you there). Calicos can be sweet and loving one minute and demons from hell the next. And that's pretty much Punkin in a nutshell.

We finally had to relegate her to being an outside cat b/c she took to marking her territory, occassionally going apesh** on someone's arm, and terrorizing the other cats. However, the outside thing didn't work out so well b/c she 's the only one of our cats that figured out how to use the dog door, so now she just sashays in whenever the hell she feels like it.

And she is a demon.

But she's sooooo pretty and sooooo sweet.

Ah well. What's a mother to do?





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Saturday, January 21, 2012

Dear Rihanna and Katy,

...and Kesha and Lady GaGa and so many others,

While I respect your talents as artists and performers, I ask that you consider the girls that listen to your songs. You are all young women and, whether you asked for this burden or not, you have influence over the girls listening to your music.

I'm not talking about small children. Their parents can choose to tune in to a more appropriate radio station. I'm talking about the young teens that listen to pop stations and watch You Tube clips on their laptops. I suppose I could still tell them they are not allowed to listen to Top 40 stations, but then I might as well go full Mennonite and I'm choosing to remain more mainstream than that at this time.

I can tell you that one of my worst parenting moments was driving a carful of young teen girls out to the movies one evening. Windows open, girls belting out lyrics along with the radio, everyone having a grand ol' time. Enter Katy Perry singing about Friday night. What could be better? Turn it up a notch.

"Mom? What's a menage-a-tois?"

It was all I could do to keep from driving off a bridge.
Switch the station.

Kesha.
"Can I get some Jack Daniel's toothpaste?"

Switch the station.

Rihanna.
"What does sex smell like?"

Oh for God's sake.

Honestly, do you think at ALL about the girls that listen to your music, or is it only about making a buck? Do you think it's possible to still perform a racy, edy song without talking about being someone's love slave or getting some sick satisfaction out of being in an abusive relationship?
Witness: Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts

or
wanna be a victim, ready for abduction

I know you've probably heard the tired cliche that it takes a village to raise a child. And while I don't think anyone's asking you to raise their child, I don't think it's too much to ask that you think about what you're singing to them.

Help me to raise my girls into confident young women that do not think being the victim in a relationship is the norm or something to be glorified. Be a role model.

Help me to raise my sons to have an inkling of what women want. Be a teacher.

Have a little respect for yourselves, and maybe some of that will trickle on down to the young people listening to your music.

I hope that someday I can turn on the radio station with a carful of teenaged girls without cringing and then boring them with a post-song lecture.

I'll keep my fingers crossed.....






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Image courtesy: musicallyinclinedfool.blogspot.com

Friday, January 20, 2012

RIP Horny Toad.














Yes. Horny Toad passed this week.

One of our toads died of...



stroke?
old age?
all backed up with toad stool?

[I just crack myself up]

No, seriously, the poor little thing was found in his cage a couple days ago. Toad 1 was standing in the far corner, looking at the ceiling, holding her hands behind her back and whistling something with no tune at all.
[Hmmmm......]


Anyway, our farm is now down one critter.

Cue the violins.



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Image courtesy: clipartfort.com

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Argh.

Argh.

Attachment.

Urgh.

Why oh why oh why does it have to be so hard?

Progress, progress, progress, progress......

And then some steps back.

Little steps.

Big steps.

GIANT STEPS.

(Pep talk in my head pep talk in my head pep talk in my head)

Argh.





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Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Wordless Wednesday

This is what happens when your daughter asks you if she can paint her room and you tell her yes.


















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Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Go-Go Golden Globes!

Raise the roof.

The Descendants took Best Motion Picture at the Golden Globes awards on Sunday, and George Clooney received Best Actor.






My sister was there, too, and got to prance around at the after party all dolled up in her Sunday best, rubbing elbows with....well it's not good form for me to be name-dropping.

I tried to reach her yesterday for comment, but you know how these celebrities are. All I got was a crazed text around midnight on Sunday, and well, let's just say it sounded like she was havin' a good time.

I'll see if I can't get a sound byte or two from her later.

Go-go Mary!

















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Image of George courtesy: jamesboylan.org
Image of Mary courtesy: IMDB

Monday, January 16, 2012

Mirth Monday - Louis CK

One of my favorite comedians.

He is one sick, twisted, scary man. But my God.



“youre not a woman until people come out of your vagina and step on your dreams”

"Somebody called me an Indian giver recently. I don’t know if you’ve heard that expression. Since you were kids, but I remember we used to call each other— “Indian giver” is one of the most offensive things you could ever— because what it’s meant to be is that someone gave you something and then they changed their minds. That makes you an Indian giver. And we equate
this to the indians because our feeling is that they gave us America, and then they— well, they didn’t take it back, certainly. We got here and the indians were like, “hi.” And we were like, “hey, can we have everything ?” And they were like, “well, we don’t know what ‘have’ means, but enjoy all the things that you need, like we do.” So we start killing all of them. And they were like, “oh, dude, “could you not do that part where you kill all of us? ‘cause that’s kind of a drag for us.” And we’re like, “you guys are Indian givers! oh, my God! we’re gonna name that after you. You guys are dicks !”

"It’s true, everything that makes you happy is going to end at some point, and nothing good ends well. It’s like, if you buy a puppy, you’re bringing it home to your family’s saying, hey, look, everyone, we’re all gonna cry soon. Look at what I brought home. I brought home us crying in a few years. Here we go. Countdown to sorrow with a puppy.”












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Quotes courtesy: http://louiequotes.tumblr.com/tagged/louis+ck and Facebook

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Sunday Social - Fiona

Next one down on my siggy line...

Anne,
Wife of Fred for 23 years
Mom of:
Patrick (16)
James (16)
Rosie (14)
Bella(14)
Julie (13)
Daniel (12)
My children around the world:
Milly in Taiwan
Eun Hae in South Korea
Felice in Hong Kong
Nadya in Germany
Obrin in New York
And our critters Blue, Sunny, Cindy-Lou, Annabelle, Fiona, and Sophie; Mamfy, Mali and Punkin; Nick; Frog 1 and Horny Toad; Charlie and Dizzy; Minnie and Alice; Elfie, Frex, Crope, Tibbit and Ozzy; Genevieve, Pippin and Finnegan; and a dozen or so chooks.

I'd like to ask God why He allows
hunger, poverty, and injustice
in the world,but I'd be afraid
He'd ask me the same thing ...



Is Fiona.



















She's the newest canine in the group.

She's sweet.

She's awful.

She's a terrible, awful dog.

She's a lovey-dove lap-dog.

She's a terror.

She's a cute l'il l'il baby puppy.

She is exceedingly smart. She shamed all the other dogs in the obedience class.

She was a rescue dog, slated for euthenasia the next day. Probably a Border Collie/Lab cross.

She is a terribly mannered dog that has taken things from counter-tops, gotten on top of the table, chased the cats, gotten things out of the trash, chewed up stuffed animals and Christmas ornaments, ruined her Invisible Fence collar, gotten into the pasture and chased the goats.

We love her.







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Friday, January 13, 2012

Farm Friday - How Far?

How far should I take this farming thing?

Till recently, all our animals were pretty much pets. Sure, we got something back from them: pretty to look at, lots of lovin' when you needed it most, fun, herding, riding, brushcutting, exercise, hobbies...

But until our chickens started giving us eggs last summer, we never got anything truly tangible back from them.

So now that we have animals that actually produce for us, I'm starting to wonder,

why stop there...?

I never thought I could raise an animal with the intention of eating it, though I am by no means a vegetarian and I give credit to anyone who does raise animals for their own consumption (or to sell the meat to others). It is by far a much more humane way for an animal to live and die than to be raised and slaughtered on a factory farm.

In fact, my Rosie came to me in tears a week or so ago, and asked me to watch this video clip about the inhumane lives and deaths of animals on factory farms:


(caution: difficult to watch if you are at all sensitive to the treatment of animals)


And it got me to thinkin'. I decided that I have a few options:

1) Continue to buy the meat under cellophane in the grocery store, pretending I don't know where it came from.

I've been doing this all of my adult life, and it's becoming increasingly more difficult.


2) Become a vegetarian.

Not interested.


2) Eat meat that only comes from local, small-scale farms.

This is how I got started in the move away from factory farms, when I decided I would buy my eggs locally at the Amish farms rather than support eggs coming from hens in "battery cages". I did this for several years before pursuing raising my own egg flock.
I've bought some meat this way, too, same place as I buy my raw milk. Truth is, it's not very budget-friendly. Costs me about $9 or $10 bucks to buy one small chicken. The organic, grass-fed beef? Even pricier.


3) That brings me to raising my own.

Though I never ever thought I would be able to do it, now I'm thinking...maybe I can.









[Image courtesy: motherearthnews.com]


So I spoke to my friend Theresa who, for my own good, I should distance myself from whenever possible because she is dangerous to me, and we've decided we shall jointly take the plunge next summer and take on meat chickens. We're going to get ourselves an order of Cornish-Rocks, and I'll raise them at my place. Seven or eight weeks later, she'll take the lead with the butchering and teach me the ropes as we go, and we'll each take half for our freezers.

No hormones.
No antibiotics.
Fresh air.
Foraging in pasture.
Humane life.
Humane death.

Food I can feel good about feeding my family, with a clean conscience and a little money left in my wallet at the end of the day.

And if all goes well with the chickens? I may just move on to pigs. Perhaps some grass-fed beef fed on my grass.

We'll see.

How about all of you? Do you think you could eat what you raise? Do you think I'll be able to manage it?



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Thursday, January 12, 2012

Career Counsellor

So Fred and I were talking, and we've decided that too much emphasis is being placed nowadays on individuality and choice, and not enough on the common good of the family.

You know, like JFK said, "Ask not what your family can do for you, ask what you can do for your family."


Or something.

So we've decided that we will determine our kids' occupations for them. No need for them to worry their pretty little heads with details like what would make for a satisfying, fulfilling, rewarding career, they will simply enter a vocational school/college of our choosing to begin their training.

We have chosen for them the following:

Auto mechanic

Electrician

Plumber

Attorney

Veterinarian

Farrier. No, scratch that. I choose to keep my current farrier.

Hmmm. Last one is a toss up between pastry chef and masseuse.



Any and all advice on reputable programs, please contact me.

Thank you.








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Image courtesy: pdx.edu

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

A Tip For Tuesday

Are your mugs cool to the touch when you take them out of the cabinet? Does your morning cup o' Joe cool off too quickly for your liking?

Try this tip...

Before filling the mug with life-replenishing coffee, fill it with water and microwave it for a minute or so. Then dump out the boiling water and fill with coffee. It'll keep nice and hot for you as you sip your way to consciousness.


















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Image courtesy: astroaarti.com

Monday, January 9, 2012

Mirth Monday













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Saturday, January 7, 2012

Nice Relaxing Weekend.

Not.

My to-do list for this weekend includes:

Painting Julie's room.
Installing the headboards we made for three of the kids for Christmas.
Figuring out what to do and where to put all the bags and boxes of stuff that the kids cleaned out of their rooms weeks ago.
Taking down all the Christmas decorations and storing all that away.
Cleaning out the barn.


Oh yeah, and let's not forget about all the usual stuff of life including feeding eight people-keeping the house clean-getting after the little buggers to do their chores-laundry-and what-not. Lots and lots of what-not.

Par-tay!



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Image courtesy: realestate-capvert.com

Friday, January 6, 2012

Farm Friday: Mmmmm.... Expiration Casserole.

One good thing about having farm critters: you never have the guilt of throwing (almost) perfectly good food in the trash.

Every week when I get home from the grocery store, I spend a few minutes going spelunking in the fridge, pulling things outa there that have seen better days. Lunchmeat past the date but not yet to the point where your face goes all scrunchy? Let Annabelle the farm dog chow down. Rock-hard, stone-cold pizza? That's what we've got goats for. Lettuce turning the color of dried-up boogers on the bathroom wall? Helloooo rabbits.





But the most fun is putting together a dish for the chickens. See, I figure they're the only ones on the farm that actually pull their weight. I feed them, they feed me, but to feed them costs money, to the tune of $16 a bag, at about two bags a month. So I like to supplement their feed with a creative culinary approach.

This week that amounted to about a half dozen yogurts past their date, a box of pasta I cooked up for them that I think we moved here from the kitchen of the old house, the sugary dust from the bottom of the bin of Lucky Charms, and the remains of a casserole of unknown origin. For international flair, I added some Italian bread with the mold torn off, as well as some French toast that had been well-aged. I mixed it all up in a cauldron with a giant wooden spoon while my eye twitched. It was fun.

Even more fun, though, was dumping it into a pan for the chooks. My trash is their gourmet dining and they were scrambling over each other like geeks at a Best Buy sale. Each trying to get the choicest noodle, then running off with it, yogurt splashing, while the others chased after her.

Ohhh, it was a hoot, I tell ya'.

And that's what passes for entertainment for me these days.

That's a true story, people. Sad, but true.


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Thursday, January 5, 2012

Proposal - Check!

In 2010, one of my New Year's Resolutions was to start writing a book.

Check.

In 2011, one of my New Year's Resolutions was to finish my book.

Check.

For 2012, one of my New Year's Resolutions is to land an agent or, failing that, start looking into self-publishing.

In progress.

While I've sent query letters out to a few agents, I've been kind of avoiding (OK, completely avoiding) any agents that include "proposals" as part of their submission guidelines. And I've been putting off creating a proposal like a college essay done the night before it's due.

But I've done it. I've finally done it. And the word according to Word is that I spent 799 minutes editing it and it is 46 pages and 9663 words long. This is just the proposal, people. Jheesh, no wonder I put it off for so long.










Ridiculous.

Anyway, now I have no more excuses, and I must proceed with submissions with reckless abandon.

Shoot, now I have nothing to hide behind.

Yikes.


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Wednesday, January 4, 2012

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