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

I found my thrill...

I'm back on a roll.  Here is Pincushion Number 14.  I hand sewed the vintage tatting to the little teeny tiny pieced quilt square, so no machine needed for this cutie.  Don't you just wanna eat them blueberry pins?

Iffin your liken' it, you can go buy it here.

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

Cora Belle...

Visit her at Minter Bay Dairy Goats

This is Cora Belle, but of course you already knew that.  EVERYONE knows Corabelle.  She is FAMOUS.  She's the Taylor Swift of goats.  Cute, nice, always winning awards, dating fake werewolves... Well maybe not that last one and she would never be caught dead with a Jonas Brother.  But other than that, she is the Taylor Swift of goats.  She lives in Washington and is so nice that she is even friends with goats without ears!  She's like an ambasador to earless goats.  She's like the Angelina Jolie of goats.  Except for the weirdness and slightly creepy aura. 

ANYWAY...

In trying to catch up with my 365 pincushions whilst using a slightly outdated machine, I have created an homage to the great Cora Belle. 

She's not for sale.  She's going to Washington if Goatgirl will have her.  However, I am working on others...check back soon.

                                     

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

Shine on...

Sometimes it's hard to comprehend that there are places that don't have snow...

I understand that some places get snow and then it goes away.  In Maine our snow comes, looks around settles down and decides to stay...AFTER it invites everyone that snow knows to come too.  Um..we have a lot of snow and it doesn't go away until May, sometimes June. 

In those places that don't have snow how do their goats get fluffy?

And what do their dead apples wear for hats?

How do their chickens figure out the meaning of life when life does not depend on the fragility a light bulb?

Where do they find gratitude for good advice from seasoned beekeepers and the sustainability of sugar for a weak hive?

Without snow how do they wrap their souls around death?

Without the sight of grass, flowers and leaves we yearn for spring, we want what we do not have and we appreciate it so dearly when it gets here. 

In it's desloation there is a transcending beauty that we hate, ignore and love all at the same time. 

Only three more months 'till spring, Mrs. Torrance....

And sometimes we get bored and read too much...

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

Excuses...

My sewing machine broke...

It's snowing out...

Life...

I did manage to make more Little Chickens on the treadle machine.  I'll get all caught up soon.  Before spring.  Or next winter.  Whatever.

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa

Make do or do without...

So I go to a new sewing machine repair place, becuase my old sewing machine repair place no longer has a working phone number.  The lady takes the case off of my machine and this is what she says...in order...

1.  Wow, that's an oldie.

2.  What the heck did you do to it? 

So I say, well it's not THAT old.  I bought it new.  Like 12 years ago.  12 isn't old is it?  I mean if it's like fruit or high waisted jeans it probably is but a sewing machine?  Husband thinks she was just trying to sell me a new one.  Me=wrong tree, she=barking up said tree. 

Then I say, well I'm kinda rough on things.  You should see my car. 

ANYWAY, they will clean it and service it, replace the plate, new lightbulb, knock out the dents in the fenders and top off the fluids.  All for a nice tidy little sum of not less than $65.00.  Minimum.  ACK. 

It will be ready in two weeks.

WHAT!?  How do I go two weeks without a sewing machine? 

Well I came home and moaned and whined.  I figured my options were to go buy a cheapy at Wal-Mart or start calling friends who might let me borrow theirs.  (None of my friends sew)  Husband offered stupid suggestions and I kindly shook my head at him.  Finally I gestured over to my old-I mean we're talking 104 years old, manufactured in 1906 old, treadle sewing machine that I bought at auction for $15.00 about 15 years ago.  It has never had a belt and I use it as a computer desk.  Well I gestured over to it and said, "I wish I had a belt for that!"  I was joking.  I don't know how to use a treadle sewing machine.  Besides where can you find a belt for a 1906 Singer treadle sewing machine?  It was suggested that I call the sewing machine repair place where I just brought my "OLD" 12-year old New Home Memory Craft 4000.  Scoffing I did and for $12.95 and a few bucks in gas,  I had a leather belt for my 1906 Singer treadle sewing machine.  And holy cow it works.  And holy cow I made a goat on it.  And holy cow, I am SUPER WOMAN!  Hear me mahhhh!

Who needs electricity and zig zag stiches?  Who needs beepy buttons and automatic bobbin winders?  Who needs portability and a little button that you push and it will write your name on the fabric just like magic? 

I do, oh dear Lord please hurry up and fix my machine....SOB!

Smiles from the farm,

Lisa