Float like a butterfly, sting like a chicken?

In this corner, weighing in at one pound, nine ounces.....THE BROWN STRIPEY CHICKEN

And in this corner weighing in at one pound, six ounces.....THE WHITE STRIPEY CHICKEN

DING, DING, DING... keep it clean gentlemen...

Well I suppose it could be worse, they could be golfers.

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

Have you HERD...

I finished some goat pincushions...

...and I tell bad jokes.  I ain't KIDDING!  Hahahahahah,  umm,  ha?  Anywhooo, they're on Etsy. 

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

Notice to cease and desist...

I really don't remember....

Giving you permission...

to get bigger...

and messier...

and funnier...

                                             

and more lovely...

                                                

or loved more completely...

So stop it. 

I love you even when you make it really, really, really, REALLY hard to.  Happy 13th birthday.

Love,

Mom

                            

Subtle are the gentle whispers of Spring...

Behind me as we speak, you and I, sweetly rest the newest additions to my farm.  They shall be vital to the sustainability of what I am trying to create, nurture and grow.  I have held the cat-sized baby Nigerian goat in my arms and marveled at the sweetness in her eyes, I have held the newly hatched chicken in my hand and tried to figure out which came first...But honestly in all of my life I have had an uncommon relationship with the new ones.  They are quiet and respectful and would never stand on the roof of my husband's newly waxed car (and I would NEVER almost pee a little from laughing so hard). 

One of the most unfavorable results of having livestock around is the amount of poo that is moved around this place.  But with the new ones, unlike the chickens who peck and scratch in my backyard and cause me to always have to wear some sort of footwear in the summer, I will bury my hands in their poo and be greatful. 

So there you have it.  I have new additions to my farm who have lovely poop.  Ahh, such a lovely picture ain't it?  Oh you want to see? -----Really?-----

Ok, here....

This is a Red Wiggler purchased from Mark at  Wormmainea here in Maine. I received one pound of them.  I haven't named them yet, cause they move really fast and I'm not really sure how many worms are in a pound.  Always something new here.  Yessuh.  They will eat our veggie scraps and make us a nice rich compost for the garden and cause uppity teenage girls to shriek and wrinkle their noses (which may be the best part)

Oh and by the way if you happen to decide that vermiculture (Yeah, see that's what us "worm people" call composting with worms) is something that you too would like to dabble in, well go visit Mark but when you go to tell people don't just say, "Hey, I've got worms!"  It just causes funny looks.  Trust me.  No really, trust me.

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

It's hard to find good help these days...

So, Mr....uhhhh, Thomas, is it?  Now why do you think you would be a good fit here at This House, Inc?

I handsome, I catch mouses.

Yes, that very well may be, but this is a VERY old house, there are lots of mouses, um MICE, here.  Have you any experience in this type of position?

I am cat. 

Hmmm, yes, I seeee.  Now, I see here on your resume, that you are a male cat.  How do I put this delicately....how do you feel about (cough) neutering?

                                          

No.

Well Mr. Thomas do you umm..spray?

Only when I cough or laugh.

Oh dear.  Well here at This House, Inc. we have a very firm stance on our male employees.  Chop, chop--as we say! 

That's a joke, Mr. Thomas.

I don't get it.  Look, they're real and they're SPECTACULAR.

Anywhoooo... we offer fantastic benefits.  Free meals, warm bed, treats, clean litter box, unlimited pats and free medical care as aforementioned, umm Mr. Thomas?

Ooooh, I see mouse!

He run fast!

Oops, he get away.

Yeah, umm.  I'm not sure you're quite what we're looking for here at This House, Inc.  I'm very sorry.

                                       

Hey listen lady, you've got a department store mannequin in your kitchen with a 12-pack of coke between her feet, who are you to judge?

                                                    

Well, uhhh, yeah.  She's our head of Human Resources.  Ironic isn't it?  Heh, heh, hmmmm.  Ok, fine, but you're on probation.  I do not want to see nary a mouse dropping in this house from now on!  Do you hear me soldier!  Soldier?  Mr. Thomas?

Hellooooo?

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa