Tuesday, November 30, 2010

The Homemade Hair Cut

Or How to Make Sure Your  Son Isn’t Mistaken For a Girl or Justin Bieber


Imagine, if you will, a time when a 5-year-old boy needs a haircut. In the muggle world this is probably a non-issue. In our world it is hysterical.

1. Prepare. First you need to get a cat. Preferably an un-neutered male cat, feral and rabid. Now make him mad. I mean really, really mad. Perhaps get a Democrat cat and tell him that you like Sarah Palin’s glasses. Okay. Now put him in the washing machine, climb in with him and have someone hand you scissors. Turn washing machine on spin. Have cat, washing machine & scissors ensemble delivered to Super Cuts. Say that you need a little boy’s haircut. Of course it will sound more like, “Thunk, splash, ouch, Meow, I drive a Prius!”
Anyway, once you have dabbed the 5-year-old ears and neck with Neosporin, dispensed anti-anxiety medication to the other patrons at Super Cuts, please pay the $10.00 for the cut and $20.00 for a tip. Please don’t forget to add a little for therapy. You can leave the cat too. Leave Super Cuts and don’t feel bad when they put the closed sign up each time you drive by.

OR

2. Do it yourself. Just don’t let anyone get too close to him for the next two weeks and if they do, tell them his father did it.

Little Bud
Gotta' Love him!

You’re Welcome,
Lisa

Sunday, November 28, 2010

The Barrel Chair

I think I paid $5.00 for this.  Maybe it was $2.00, I don't remember.  It is a rocking chair made from a wooden keg.  Well it has potential.  I know that I'm not the only one that sees that...right?


In my stash of treasures I had an old quilt that I think cost about $3.00.    It was pretty rough in spots.  But I knew that it had potential to be something else.  I wish I had time to realize all the potential of all the junk I gather...but there isn't enough time in the world. 


But for a grand total of either $5.00 or $8.00, I still can't remember, this one sad little chair is all better.  All she needs is a little girl with messy braids, bobby socks and a tattered edition of The House on Pooh Corner.



"When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it."

Winnie the Pooh


Smiles from the farm,
Lisa

Friday, November 26, 2010

Biodegradable Ducks

Dear Government Official In Charge of Garbage:

I recently have done some scientifical stuff and have discoverd that certain objects decompose at a rapid rate in my house.  I think this will come in handy when you guys are trying to figure out where to put everyone's garbage and stuff.  Please observe this following slideshow.



As you can see over the course of approximately seven days, the "Tuff Stuff" duck virtually disappeared.  We have so far unsuccessfully isolated the factor contributing to this phenomena but are confident that it will reveal itself to us fortwith, forth with, forsooth, very, very soon. 



Oh, oh, oh--holy crap I almost forgot.  Just in case you thought this only happens to ducks, please be assured that the same results occur with little yellow squeaky men, rubber hamburgers and the early works of Mr. Dean Koontz.  So it's for reals. 






I know this is really awesome and you'll want to give me some Nobil Prices and stuff, but I'll take cash or an X-Box.  Or a UNICORN!  Thanx!

Smiles from the farm,
Lisa

Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Good Farmer's Guide to Goat Breeding

After the disappointment of Dottie's less then successful "gettin' good & knocked up" last year I decided that I needed my own little buck on the little farm.  I bought Pip. 


This was at the end of April or the beginning of May.  He was about eight weeks old.  He is now about eight months old.  Just prime for lovin.  When I bought him I also bought Chi-Chi.  She is a registered Nigerian Dwarf about 3 years old. 


So with Dottie and Stella that makes three does and one buck.  In my infinite planning and farm wisdom the does will be bred with Pip this month and we will have little babies in May. 



It will work out perfectly.  Nothing will go wrong this year.  I have it all planned out. 

Wait, what was that noise?



Now how on earth did that happen?

Pip? 

Hey, how you doin'?

I've got BABIES!!!!

Smiles from the farm,
Lisa

Sunday, November 14, 2010

If you threw a party....

The daughters were looking at plushie dolls on Etsy the other day.  There were Dr.Who plushies and Star Trek plushies and other ones that I didn't know who they were 'cause I'm not a geek.  They are essentially dolls made from felt or fleece that are PLUSH and look like someone in the Sci-Fi category.  So I said, "There should be like a Betty White plushie."  And we giggled.  And then I made one, 'cause I just had to.  We giggled some more. 


Then some friends saw it and had to have one and now I have made like ten and each one makes me giggle when she's finished.  Good ol' Betty.  This one is for sale on Etsy.  Betty White

Thank You For Being a Friend,
Lisa


Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Huntin'

The days are getting short.  The sun starts to head for the hills at around 5:30 these days.  Tonight I had to run down back to grab my flashlight so I could feed the goats and as I tripped down the driveway thinking 'bout the things I do when no one else is around me, I just happened to look into the back field. 


I know my photographic skills are awe inspiring.  Hey it was dark.  I ran back to the house, up over the stairs, breathlessly saying something about a deer, horns, in the back field.  I grabbed my camera.  Husband grabbed not a camera but an implement of destruction.  At this point I paused and kicked myself for sharing.  Don't get me wrong, I am not an anti-hunter.  But I had already named this deer and he was my friend and his name is Harold.  I didn't want him to get dead.  So as all supportive wives do, I started shouting, "RUN Harold!, RUN!"  I was told later this was ridiculous. 

But Harold ran my friends, Harold ran.  Good ol' Harold. 




Smiles from the farm,
Lisa