I Like Halloween...

Back here live at the little farm with my friend Jake the Zombie...You're looking good Jake.  Jake just got an awesome face paint job, what do you think?

I LIKE TURDELLS.

Uhh, all right.  You're.....great....zombie. 


(Just in case you don't spend inappropriate time on the internets watching stuff like this because I mean who does that?  Really, jeesh get a hobby or something people.  Pathetic.)

HAPPY HALLOWEEN from the farm,
Lisa

Duck, duck...RAIN!

Sure is nice weather...

If you're a duck!

Bah--hahahahahahah!  Phew, that was a good one.  Classic, classic.

Smiles from the farm,
Lisa

You know what I'd like to have?

People in my house wince and run away when I say that.  I don't know why.  Now that I'm 40, I think I should start to make some of my lifelong dreams come true.   Here is the list of things I want.  It's normal.

An old Mayor McCheese for the goats to play in.  Husband thinks that's dumb.  I, however, think it would be Awesome.

A water buffalo.  She can't play in the Mayor McCheese though-that would just be weird.  I would name her Janeane Bulafalo. 

Charlie's Angels Hideaway House.  Ok, I wanted this when I was 7 and I didn't get it.  I have held a deep resentment for 33 years.  Thank you mother.  Actually now that I see it again, it is pretty cheesy.  Nevermind.  I probably did get more use out of the socks and underwear.  I still haven't forgotten not getting the Michael Jackson jacket with the zippers, Easy Bake Oven or a real Ken doll.  Donny Osmond was NOT the same thing. 

A vintage Shasta camper.  Pink, with wings.  I want this bad.  I don't even like camping. 

A sassy gay friend who would go shoe shopping with me and teach me how to make a dry martini.  Though I only wear boots and hate olives.  It'd still be fun though.  I'd name him Janeane Bulafalo---no wait that doesn't make any sense. 

Oh and I'd really like Photoshop, so I could learn how to make my kid's eyes look all wet and shiny like Puss in Boots or mommys with photo blogs.  Wow that was snarky.  Sorry about that. 



Awww darn it.  I missed it.  McDonald's Playground  Anyone know where I can get a Mayor McCheese, cheap? 

Smiles,
Lisa

Postcards From The Farm

Dear Margaret,

The weather here in Maine is lovely this time of year.  We had the most wonderful summer.  It was full of good food, good friends and fun.  The farm is to DIE for.  It's almost like a spa here!  You just finish eating and someone is trying to feed you apples or tomatos or lord only knows what other goodies.  They certainly are generous!  We may never leave. 

I would never speak out of turn, as you know, I am nothing if not a proper lady.  However, some of the OTHER ladies seem to be putting on the pounds in the last few weeks.  If I didn't know better I'd swear that they have increased the caloric levels of our meals. 

Some changes have been happening the last few days.  The barn has been cleaned and some fences have come down.  The garden has been mowed and the goats (our next-door neighbors) got their mani-pedi's and their worming.  I'm so glad we are civilized creatures and are not in need of such things as wormings. Also I've heard rumors of an occurence called WINTER, but I know nothing of it.  Our server has informed us that we have nothing to worry about, we will totally escape this thing called WINTER and I am glad for it.   

Well I shall sign off as it seems we are going on a little field trip this afternoon!  Probably leaf peeping.  The trees are afire with the glow of autumn glory.  The others are all a twitter and I want to be sure to get a good seat.  This is going to be so much fun!

So ta-ta for now my darling, until next time.  Wish you were here!

Best Regards,

Mildred

An hour in the life of a puppy...

Don't chew on that, don't chew on that, oooooh.  NO!  I won't do it.  I won't chew on that. 

Don't chase that, don't chase that, don't chase that....aaahhhuugggg!  Run-run-run-slow down-stop.   Little gray cats with standy up tails are FAST.   Ok, I'm good. 

Don't jump, don't jump, don't jump...Aw crap, I just couldn't help it.  I just LOVE.YOU.SO.MUCH.  Ooops I peed a little.

Don't eat the cat, don't eat the cat, don't eat the cat.  CAT.IS.SO.EATIE.  nom-nom-nom.  OUCH-high pitched yelp from Angry One Who Has Treats Sometimes and Rubs Belly.  Let cat go.  See how good I am?  Wait, why is she giving me bad look.  I let GO!  I nice.

Play with toy, play with toy, play with toy, chase ball, chase ball, chase ball, look cute, look cute, look cute. 

SOMEONE JUST OPENED THE CAR DOOR!  Oh no, they are leaving me here.  THEY ARE NEVER COMING BACK.  I will be alone and lonely and no one will ever rub my tummy ever, ever, ever again.  What am I going to DO?  Oh the humanity, the humanity!  Look the car door open.  I will slip in, they will never know.  I am smartest dog breed ever. 

I just wait right here.  They will come and take me for a ride.  I'll just wait right here and be nice.  If they take me for ride I never chew on cat again.  I never jump.  I never chase CHICKENS.  Oh I love to chase chickens.  I think that's what them for, chasing.  

Hmm.  I wait for long time.  Car not move.   If they not come take me for ride in one minute I take my not eat cat promise back. 

Is she pointing black flashy thing at me from the window?  Is they laughing at me?  Car DOOR opened, means car go fast!  I smartest dog breed ever.  I think I've been tricked.  What kind of people leave car door open and never make car go?  Bad ones.  Very, very bad ones. 

UPDATE:  The fool was still waiting at 7:30!  He sat in the car for over four hours waiting for a ride.  I think he took several "breaks" to chase chickens and torment the cat but when I went to find him for bed, he was sleeping in the passenger seat. 

Jake the Puppy

Where's My Flux Capacitor?

Hello 1990 Lisa.

Um, hi. Who are you?

I am 2010 Lisa.

Wow. You look…tired.

Yeah, it’s been an eventful 20 years.

So, you’re like going to be 40 on Sunday?

Yup.

Wow. That’s old.

Yup.

But we’re alive-heh-heh. That’s something right?

I guess.

Your hair isn't gray..

It’s dyed. Your bangs are big. 

That’s the look I was going for. It’s timeless.

No, no it’s not.

Whatever. You’ve put on a little weight.

Four kids.

FOUR?! What the hell.

I know. Sometimes I can’t believe it either.

So we must be rich. Who would have four kids without a ton of cash?

Uh, well. How much money do you have in the bank right now? Never mind, don’t answer that. You may want to invest in something now.

So we’re poor?

Well sweetie, we sure ain’t rich.

Great.

Yup.

Did I finish college?

Yes.  Slowly at night and while working a full-time job.

Oh, well that's good.  Did I ever finish writing that novel?

Nope.

I'm probably not married to JFK, Jr.

Uh, no he died in 1999.

Oh no.

Yeah, sorry.  You would have totally had a chance had he lived and hadn't married someone else.

Who else?

Um, Princess Di, Kurt Cobain, Chris Farley, Freddie Mercury, Jerry Garcia, Audrey and Katherine Hepburn…

Okay, that’s enough! Holy crap.

Michael Jackson.

No way.

Yup.

Jesus.

Well yeah him too, but didn’t you already know that.

Funny. I was kind of hoping we’d grow out of that “wit”.

Nope.

So who did I marry?

Remember that guy from high school?  Big head, dressed up as Jimi Hendrix and played the Star Spangled Banner on the guitar at Homecoming and upset all the little old ladies, drove that beat up Toyota pick up?

Oh no.

Yup, you are Mrs. Big Head.

And we have four kids?

Well, there are two little Big Head's.  Before that, 1993 to 1998 were our years of poor decision making and not trusting in our instincts and the subsequent creation of two people who are pretty cool in spite of it all.

Sounds rough.

It wasn’t fun.

But everything’s cool now? We okay? The kids are all good?

Well, we’ve learned a lot about genetics and mutated DNA and auto-recessive genes. The important thing is that you will learn patience beyond what you believe you are capable of. You will learn how to appreciate what you have and to live each day with as much grace as possible. You will find peace most of the time and you will one day figure out how to forgive yourself for the days when you can’t. At least I hope so. We should probably talk to 2030 Lisa about that.

Uh, I’d rather not. *shudder*. She’s like ancient.

True, she’s probably napping.

I’ll bet she uses Depends.

Definitely.  Four kids, remember? Two with Big Heads?

Yuck.  So any advice?

Don’t get a tattoo.

Do we have a tattoo?

No, dummy I just told you not to get one.

Yeah, but if you don’t have one, doesn’t that mean that I didn’t get one?

Well if I didn't tell you not to get one, you might have gotten one and then I would have one and I think I would regret it.  I don't know...this time travel stuff is confusing.

So it sounds like life pretty much bites. I didn’t accomplish anything I wanted to, I’m poor, chubby, have sick kids and can look forward to peeing myself on a regular basis.  At least I can hide behind my husband's big head. 

I guess it looks pretty bad from where you are right now. But dude, it's really not that bad.  A lot of it hurts like hell sometimes but at the end of the day when you fall into bed and your eyes close before your head hits the pillow and you know that you are squeezing every ounce of life from what you have been given, it makes you feel consequential somehow. Live it. 2030 Lisa may wear diapers and sleep with 37 cats and a goat at the foot of her bed, but I’ll bet she’s satisfied.

I hope the Rachel is back by then.

Yeah, it won’t be. Rachel doesn’t even wear the Rachel.

No way.

Way.

Happy Birthday, Lisa.

Right back at ya.

What was the thing about the goat?

Don't even ask.


Smiles from the old lady's farm,
Lisa

The Smartest Dog Breed...

So all the broilers are in the freezer.  I had a meltdown about Hour 12 of the process.  I'm over it.  I swore I would  never butcher another chicken for as long as I live.  It's hard.  I'll do it again next year. 

So having grossed a lot of you totally out, here's a story for the supper table.  I made sure the puppy stayed in the house during the whole operation.  So after everything was done and cleaned up and put away and I was standing in the kitchen with a glass of wine and a twitchy eye, I heard "hgmmmmlurrrrp".  Well right in the middle of this meaningful phrase I looked at Husband.  I believe it was right around "hgmmm..." and said, "Did the dog get out?"  And right in the middle of him saying, "No", so right around "N-" The puppy ended his meaningful soliloquy with "Harggggck!"  and all that I was trying to erase from my brain was expounded once more right at my feet.  The innards that were made outards, were wonderfully made innards once more AAAANNNDDD then once more outards.    Husband's interupted denial of puppy egress..."Nnnn-Ooooh (wincing)---maybe? Yup, I guess so.  Sorry."  Oh Lord.

Then in the morning having sensed the blood in the air, our dear puppy thought it would behoove him to try his own plucking.  Though his chicken was a little more than a baby and not dead.  I came across it at the bottom of the stairs laying on it's back with no feathers left-but alive, barely.  I picked it up and it opened it's little eyes and looked at me.  "WTF!" it gasped.  (Sorry for the swears, it wasn't me.  It was the CHICKEN). 

A few hours under a heat lamp and some sugar water and it came right back to rights.  He/she will be fine.  The puppy however is not allowed unsupervised while in the outsides anymore.   He does show signs of remorse, however. 

Smiles from the farm,
Lisa

I'm vewwwy, veweey sowwwy.  It will never happen again.

Hey, look, a chicken! 

My Recipe for Take Out Chicken...

You know how the Pioneer Woman posts all those recipes and she's all detailed with the 37 pictures of her butter?  Well here is my version.  I believe in brevity. 

TAKE OUT CHICKEN

Step One:

Someone has to lose their head. 

Step Two:

YOU TAKE EVERYTHING OUT. 



And there you have it.  My famous TAKE OUT CHICKEN. 

Now let the millions of dollars in endorsements and advertising come forth. 

Smiles and sincere apologies from the farm,
Lisa

(It's been a long weekend)

Mad, mad, mad, mad men....

I know that most of you don't watch Mad Men.  I don't know why, but I know that you don't.  You have lives and participate in activities that do not include fictional characters.  La-Ti-Da.  But I just neeeeeed to say this, I'll make it quick and ever after I will only talk about baby goats and puppies, antiques, my garden and more stuff about puppies.  OK. 

OMG they killed Ms. Blankenship.  I just don't know why.  Poor dear.  Now what happened to Don saying that walking Dr. Miller to the door was as far as he could go right now?  Next thing you know they're knocking lamps off his bed stand.  My goodness.   Did Joan and Roger really do IT standing up in that yucky alley way.  That's just gross.  WHY can't Sally live with her dad?  That little chick is going down the wrong path.  Someone needs to do something.  And it sure isn't going to be Betty.  Blech, I hate me some Betty let me tell you.  Then holy cow I was almost certain that they were going to make Peggy a lesbian.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.  Just not Peggy.  She needs a nice man who treats her like an equal and is sensitive and kind and smart and plays the guitar.  Ok that's what MY criteria is---was---whatever.   Finally, my god people-have a Pepsi or something enough with the booze.  Jeesh. 

Phew.  Thank you for humoring me.  Now back to our regularly scheduled program. 



(Don't worry we have no idea what she's talking about either. )



Lame Ducks and Racist Puppies...

A few months ago I bought a small incubator at the auction for $6.00.  Since I had no fertile eggs to hatch in said incubator, I did what any die hard, weathered, experienced farm girl would do and I bought 12 duck eggs on Ebay.  'Cause that's what our forefathers would have done iffen they were needin' some ducks. 

Now I bid and won Six Muscovey duck eggs.  They look like this when they are full grown...



Funky huh?  Well what I got was FOUR Muscovey duck eggs and EIGHT Cayuga duck eggs because the seller didn't have SIX Muscovey duck eggs and instead gave me EIGHT Cayuga ducks eggs to make up for the two Muscoveys that he didn't have.  Got it?  So the potential was there for FOUR Muscovey ducks and EIGHT Cayuga ducks.  The Cayuga duck looks like this...

So that was fine.  Green ducks would be cool too.  Well I knew having never actually hatched eggs in an incubator that my hatch rate would very well likely not be more than 50%.  I was hoping for a boy and girl Muscovey and a boy and girl Cayuga.  So four ducks.  And low and behold only four ducks hatched.  Two Muscovey's and two Cayugas.  Which is probably a pretty good hatch rate for Ebay ducks.  I have no idea of their gender.  One of the Muscovey's did not make it, so now I have three ducks.  One Muscovey and two Cayugas.  Whatever...what the heck am I going to do with ducks anyway? 

Well in my infinite wisdom I have been feeding the ducks a grain that is too high in protein and has produced in the Muscovey duck a wing condition known as Angel Wing.  Her/His wings are floppy and growing out from the body instead of lying flat to the body.  So in consulting my ancient book of farmer's secrets (ie: I Googled it).  I learned that the ducks wings have to be taped close to the body for five to seven days which will result in proper blood flow and with the right diet the condition may be reversed.  Now ducks are not nice.  They are not friendly or cuddly and nice.  They are rude and snobby and don't like me at all.  They did not bond to me like they do on cartoons, they do not follow me around the yard and quack.  They run from me and will break thier necks against the fence when I try to pet them.  So I don't like ducks and if these ducks are all boys I will give them away or let Husband eat them.  HA! Take that you mean ducks.  If they are girls and lay eggs for me, then they can stay.  But I cannot let the duck's wings go wonky, so I followed the directions on the Google and taped her wings.  She LOVES me now let me tell you  Oh and did I mention that Muscovey ducks have claws at the ends of their cute little webbed feet.  Well they do.  And they're sharp.  I don't like ducks and well ducks don't like me. 

Here are the two Cayuga ducks under the Esperanza Family Hammock, which leads me to a whole different story...

The Esperanza Family Hammock is about four years old and one of my most favorite things.  Well it used to be.  I used to run out and take it down when it rained.  I don't anymore and it's a little gray and the wood has lost it's varnish.  Now let me think where did I get the Esperanza Family Hammock and why on earth do I call it that?  Ebay.  And I call it that because the description on Ebay said that it was hand woven by the Esperanza family of...ummm...South America somewhere?  We feel it is vital to not only name livestock purchased on Ebay but also all household items purchased therein.  Isn't it pretty? 

yeah....

We're not sure why Puppy has such intense disdain for the Esperanza Family. .    He also hates cobblers, haberdashers,  producers of furniture legs, people who tend to appreciate that garbage stay in the designated recepticals and goats, especially those of the Nigerian race.   

Sighs from the farm,

Lisa