Boogie In The Barnyard

To continue with yesterdays musical theme, I give you this.
I spent waaaay to much time on YouTube last night.

For Mary Ellen

Share The Love

Look what I got after this mornings goat rope!

So says Mamahut, who graced me with this honor, I am supposed to share the love with seven others.

Here goes.....

To Scargosun  who's blog always makes me feel like I'm listening to a good friend.

To A Shelter From The Storm my "neighbor" blogger who makes me feel like I have a friend to listen when I'm at ends.

To At Home with The Farmers Wife who I like to go on trips with, she takes me out for Sunday drives, to the fair etc...

To Nanny Goats In Panties. She's a brand new friend

To John Deere Mom, I think she has the cutest kids in "Blogland" and she's also my "tech" support.

To From Talbots to Target, I love her outlook on life and her keen sense of "keeping it real"

To Up The Hill Backwards for riding the subway with small children, really you deserve more of an award than just this!

Morning Fiasco

I was afraid I wasn't going to have anything to blog about today.

I got up early, read my favorite other peoples blogs, fed the fish and made a fresh pot of coffee.

I went outside on the deck to enjoy the the early morning quiet and watch the sun come up through the clouds over the trees.

That's when it happened.

Everything was quiet.

I was speaking softly to the dogs so as not to wake the chickens, ducks or donkeys.

I heard a soft and muffled bleet of the goats.

I thought to myself how sweet it was to hear them calling to the warm morning sun.

I heard it again.

Closer this time.

I dismissed it as I had before, they were just enjoying the morning.

I heard it again.

It sounded as though they were right next to me.

It couldn't be I told myself.

These were non escaping goats.

"They" said these goats would not jump fences.

They were in the backyard right under the deck.

I called to them.

Norm..... Corki.....

They started bleeting louder excited to know that I was out enjoying the morning with them.

They ran right to the stairs and Bart the Wonder Dog ran down to greet them.

We were all together and everyone was happy.

Everyone except me.

You see, we have had goats before.

They were free used goats (I soon found out why) who every time you would put them inside a fence they would jump outside the fence.

Mike and I chased the goats until we learned you can chase goats all day with no success, but goats will follow you wherever you go.

For those two goats, we double fenced, cross fenced, Australian fenced, hot wire fenced, high fenced and low fenced.

To no avail.

The goats would get out.

At first it was cute, almost funny.

In the end, picture me sitting in the rain, in the yard, on the ground, crying with two of the best known escape artists the likes of this town had ever seen eating oats out of a Folgers can waiting for Mike to get home to build a twelve foot razor wire fence to keep the goats in.

I put those two goats on Craigslist for free, without mention of their fence leaping abilities and a very nice goat woman showed up the next day to deliver them to their next conquest.

We have thought long and hard , even gone so far as to pinky swear to each other that we would never have goats again.

Whatever, back to the story.

The goats were out.

How I don't know and right now it doesn't matter.

They had made short business of my anniversary wisteria, but other than that, the damage report was minimal.

I picked up the nearest coffee can and got the sweet feed from the garage beside the cadillac

(doesn't everyone keep the sweet feed in the garage next to the cadillac?)

They were intrigued.

I called to them as they happily followed me back through the gate and into the field.

~Because I want you to get the whole scope of this fiasco I need to throw in the fact that I am still in my nightgown, wearing my pink rag of a robe and my yellow rubber barn shoes~

Once we got through the gate and I exhaled over the ease of my mission, I turned to close the gate.

A bolt of brown flashed before my eyes and the goats were on the wrong side of the gate again.

Back to the garage for more sweet stuff in a can.

They were bleeting beside me wondering what the hold-up was on the refill.

Back to the field we go.

Through the gate.

Farther into the field.

Drop the goods.

Turn to run as my thighs are now chafing from the sweat that I've acquired and my lack of pants.

Again, the brown flash of goats hurdling their way through the gate before me.

I had to get a handle on the situation.

Wake up Wendy.

The goats, Bart the Wonder dog and I went to the little house to get her up.

She was sound asleep after working the late shift last night, so it was understandable her surprise when she woke to the sight of two goats, a dog and her Mother crying in her room.

I pleaded with her to help me, but she just kept using her angry tone to get us all off her bed.

Obviously she didn't understand the urgency our predicament.

Once we got her out of the bed and into the fresh morning air she was more willing to assist with the small task of closing the gate with me, the goats and the dog all safely on the other side.

It's been an hour now, so far, so good.

Life and Times of Today

Well, after losing half a nights sleep to anxiety about my appointment yesterday, they cancelled it.
The Doctors wife had a baby and he will be out for a week.

So, instead of going to the doctor we went to pick up our new used goats yesterday.
If you ask me, that's a WAY better way to spend your day.
Norman and Corki rode home in the back of the explorer and loved every minute of the ride. I don't know if they'd ever been to town or not, but I can tell you, they enjoyed the sights.
They fit in like they've been here for years, and get along with all the other tenants of the barn yard, even learning the secret call for snacks.
I have a slide show posted below and I'm in the process of loading all the pictures of the day on Flickr.
Be sure and click the photo link to your right.

Here's the scoop on Wendy.
She is STILL dating the plumber and he is SO great.
I hope beyond hope that they date for a long time and he doesn't get grossed out by her nose picking and farting.
I wonder if maybe he's a bit to normal for a family like ours, but given time we can work him into our weirdness.
If life was like one of my daytime stories, I would already have something to bribe him with to make him stick around.
Maybe I could just make something up and give it a go.

How's this.....
I could tell him I have all the information I need about his involvement with the situation in Panama and if he doesn't marry Wendy I will turn it over to the South American Consulate.
It could be just crazy enough to work.

Mike just went to the feed store and then he's going to swing by the company he used to drive log truck for.

They're getting a truck ready for him to drive during the week because groceries are to slow for someone low on the seniority list.
The money is ok just working weekends, but God bless the man, I want to smother his face in a pillow until all the life runs out of him when he's home from work all week with me.

Is that bad?

I'm sure it is but really, what can I do.

He has done all the trimming, mowing, pruning, raking, cleaning, fixing and building he can do, and now it's to the point that he's starting to watch my stories with me.

It's gone to far.

Driving log truck a few days a week will do us BOTH good.

I think that's all I have to say for now.

My heads a little loopy from the new no-puke pills they have me on.

Trust me though, I'd rather have loopy blog than an oogy belly any day.

OH!

Look what I got from my friend Mamahut!

Thanks MH, I think your a Kick Ass Blogger too : )

Goat Day

Oogy Belly

I am up in the middle of the night because I have a doctors appointment today.

My belly hurts and I am so scared he is going to say I need surgery that I can't sleep.

My arm STILL hurts and it's been three days more than a week.

I don't get it.

One of the ducks, either Nancy or Barbara laid her first egg yesterday.

Thank you and congratulations to whomever the honor bestows.

Wendy had her SECOND date with James the plumber last night.

He seems very nice but I will not get to attached just yet.

If we make it through the weekend I may serve him a homemade meal.

Wyatt is VERY excited to start school.

He has new clothes and long hair and says he feels like a rock star.

I think he looks like a well dressed hippy, but hey, whatevers clever.

I'm going to go lay on the couch and watch Saved by the Bell or an infomercial and try to get some sleep.

For Julie

My Sister told me tonight that if I didn't put up a new post people would most likely think I'd fallen in a ditch.

I'm not in a ditch, but I did dislocate my shoulder AGAIN last Friday.

That's ten times in nine years for anyone who's counting.

This was a bad one.

I was laying down reaching behind my head to move my pillow when it happened and Mike couldn't even move me off of the bed.

Before long there were five paramedics loading me into the ambulance and heading to the hospital.

I have been to the Orthopedist who sent me for dye injected MRI's and x-rays and we will have the results on Monday.

I am still in a sling and a fair amount of pain and it looks like shoulder surgery round two is eminent.

As you may remember I had the interview at Safeway and I got the job, but now I'm unable to take it.

I have heard that everything happens for a reason, but I just can't think of a good reason for all of this : (

Sooooo, I'll be back as soon as my blogging arm heals up a little.

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Thanks Val.....

BARACK OBAMA:
The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a CHANGE!
The chicken wanted CHANGE!
JOHN MC CAIN:
My friends, that chicken crossed the road because he recognized
the need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on
the other side of the road.
HILLARY CLINTON:
When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken
to cross the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure
-- right from Day One! -- that every chicken in this country gets the
chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn't about
me......
DR. PHIL:
The problem we have here is that this chicken won't realize that
he must first deal with the problem on 'THIS' side of the road before it
goes after the problem on the 'OTHER SIDE' of the road. What we need
to do is help him realize how stupid he's acting by not taking on his
'CURRENT' problems before adding 'NEW' problems.
OPRAH:
Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is
why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the
chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I'm
going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the
road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.
GEORGE W. BUSH:
We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just
want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The
chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.
COLIN POWELL:
Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite
image of the chicken crossing the road...
ANDERSON COOPER - CNN:
We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not
yet been allowed to have access to the other side of the road.
JOHN KERRY:
Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now
against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the
chicken's intentions. I am not for it now, and will remain against it.
NANCY GRACE:
That chicken crossed the road because he's GUILTY! You can see
it in his eyes and the way he walks.
PAT BUCHANAN:
To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.
MARTHA STEWART:
No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I
had a standing order at the Farmer's Market to sell my eggs when the
price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider
information.
DR SEUSS:
Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad?
Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I've not been told.
ERNEST HEMI NGWAY:
To die in the rain. Alone.
GRANDPA:
In my day we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road.
Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.
BARBARA WALTERS:
Isn't that in teresting? In a few moments, we will be listening
to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart warming story of how
it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish
its life long dream of crossing the road.
ARISTOTLE:
It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.
BILL GATES:
I have just released eChicken2009, which will not only cross
roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your
checkbook. Internet Explorer is an integral part of the Chicken. This
new platform is much more stable and will never cra...#@&&^(C%
ALBERT EINSTEIN:
Did the chicken reall y cross the road, or did the road move
beneath the chicken?
BILL CLINTON:
I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What is your
definition of chicken?
AL GORE:
I invented the chicken!
COLONEL SANDERS:
Did I miss one?
DICK CHENEY:
Where's my gun?

Love Story

I knew the moment we met there was a connection.

There was something in the way he looked at me with those beckoning brown eyes, the way he tilted his head when I spoke his name.

I knew I had felt this way before, but not in a very long time.

I was beginning to feel as though maybe I was to old, not as carefree as I had once been, to really be able to feel the happiness that this kind of love brings.

When I talked to him I felt as though he not only listened, but that he truly understood what I was saying.

I could tell him anything, knowing he would never betray my trust.

As the days passed, our love grew deeper.

We would go on what seemed like endless walks together, side by side, occasionally brushing against one another, our thoughts and our hearts entwined as one.

I guess I should have known where this love would lead us.

I was sitting in a chair as he came and sat beside me on the floor.

He looked up and deep into my eyes as he laid his arms across mine.

At first, I wasn't sure what was happening.

I was to taken aback to see the the obvious.

Before I could stop him he had his arms around my neck as he sat facing me on my lap staring into my eyes.

I lept out of the chair almost spilling my iced tea onto the floor as he jumped away from me and ran under the table.

I knew what I had to do....

Yesterday I called and made an appointment get Bart the Wonder Dog fixed.

Some Advice For My Blog Stalking Neighbor

pRick, I really think you need to get a hobby.

Your spending way to much time on the blog.

Try Craigslist for a few hours, it's far more interesting.

Just For Moms

Black Saturday

I hate the Olympics.

Thank Gawd for cable television.

Remember the Olympics in the 70's, when you had no other choice.

Or how about Watergate?

That would be on alll day.

Remember O.J?

He was on all day, even on cable.

No gettin' away from O.J.

Princess Di?

I cried  around the clock for days.

9/11

That was the worst.

I never ever thought life would be the same again.

I know there have been other things that have backed up the T.V, like Britney shaving her head or Anna Nicole o'ding, I can handle that.

One big Oh My Gawd and  you just watch Cops until everything blows over and they return us to our regularly scheduled programing.

The Olympics pre 1980.

That was a dark time my friends.

Really Big News Friday

I just got a call from Safeway, they want me to come in for an interview on Tuesday!

Big News Friday

Wendy went on a date last night with a guy with a car and a JOB!
Woooo Hoooo!

I have been so busy working outside this week, and I have the oogy oozy worn out broken peely skin on my hands to prove it.
(I"ll spare you the pictures, not the details)
It has been super hot and muggy and my body is screaming at me.

Bart the Wonder Dog is a perfect fit on the Farm. 

We love him and he loves us and believe me when I tell you he could play ALL day.

Great fun for the kids.

The guinea hens made a nest and laid an egg in the brush pile.

It's like this big  

Ok, thats all.

Whats One More?

Look what we got this weekend!

I know, I know, like we needed more livestock here on the Farm, but really, how could I resist :)

He is the best dog EVER, and Wyatt is in love with him.

They played fetch the empty water bottle for over an hour last night, and when I woke up this morning, there was Bart sleeping on Mikes side of the bed (Mike was at work) with the bottle on his pillow.

We also discovered he likes to play frisbee, towel, wood, empty plastic planting pot, milk jug, ball, plastic lid and hose.

He is very well rounded.

Ok, Captain Pork Chops posted about rug hooking yesterday. 

I guess she has some hooker friends and I checked out their blog and I now know what I will be spending my time doing this winter and I am VERY excited about it.

Last year I made these rugs.

Shag rag rugs from sentimental fabric.

No brainer, very simple, kinda cute.

This year I will make things of beauty, works of art, I am destined for glory (or failure)

All I need to do is go on Amazon and buy a book that will teach me how to be a hooker.

I will keep you posted.

Here is something else I need to do this winter.

Get a job.

I want to go back to work, and I don't want to go back to work.

I need to meet people other than you guys.

Don't get me wrong, your a nice bunch, but I don't even have to brush my teeth to hang out with you.

I've been at home so long that being around other people makes me feel like a social pariah.

Do I talk to much?

Do I tell stupid stories?

Do I flail my hands around when I'm speaking?

Do I have dumb hair?

Is there some kind of group that helps you integrate back into society slowly?

Maybe I should just bag society and my inept social skills and work from home.

You know, addressing envelopes or making cold calls for life insurance.

I don't want a job that requires me to shave my legs, I know that for sure, so I need some kind of long pants job.

I would also prefer a job sitting down.

Sitting down, long pants kind of job like maybe an ice cream taster.

Do you get paid to be part of the Neilson Family?

If theres one thing I know, it's good T.V

I don't want a job where I would have to leave the house early or get home late either.

I don't want to miss anything around here and if I get home late I'm sure I would miss something.

Ok, so let's re-cap....

No leg shaving

Long pants

Sitting down

Leave late

Home early

Have any ideas?

Green Wy

I am jacking the Farmers Wife's idea this morning of posting a video.

I went for a drive with her through Illinois corn country, so I thought I'd let Wyatt show you around here.

This was recorded with a crappy (what I thought was the best at the time) Flip camera last summer. Wyatt was eight.

He tends to go on a bit, but he is informative.

Fat Chics

I feel the need to discuss my weight.

As I sit here with a Ben and Jerry's Pint-o-Peach Cobbler I reflect back on the days when such an indulgence might not have affected me in such an entirely negative way.

When I was in my twenties and thirties I could eat and drink to my hearts content and never give a second thought to my weight.

I was tall and thin and naturally blond and funny and beautiful cute and reeeeeealy pretty smart.
But, the older I got and the more times I'd been married, the less I cared and the fatter I got.
At one point, before New Years 2004 I believe, it was my goal to hit 200 pounds so that when I lost all my weight after the first of the year I could brag myself up saying.... And do you know I used to weigh 200 pounds.
Well, I got to the 200 pound mark, but the diet never quite kicked in the way I planned, so that kind of back fired.
Much the way any diet anyone I know has ever been on has sooner or later ended up back firing.
I mean really, look at Oprah, Kirstie Alley, Lisa Marie, and you just wait, it'll happen to Marie Osmond too.

Here's my thoughts on the matter.
Being a fatty really doesn't bother me that much and I wonder if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Well, I guess it does bother me in the fact that I have a lot more aches and pains and chins, but sometimes, I feel like maybe I was born to be fat (omg.. do you hear that song in your head now?)
Fat people are comforting and fun to hug

All the fat chics I know are very cool with who they are, as opposed to how they feel they "should" be, and they are the people I most love being around, and it's NOT just because they always have good food in the house.
Mind you I'm not friends with any of the bitter white legging, to small t-shirt wearing Wal-Mart shopper fat chics.
They are a different breed of fat.
They are angry fat.

I think I am TOTALLY comfortable with who I am and how I look, and my husband thinks I am the hottest thing, especially if he could ever get me horizontal (ever since menopause I'm just not that into it.)

I think looking like a mom is ok, and I think acting like a mom is even better, and the older I get the more momish I feel.
The reason I don't have issues with that is because in my mind, I am not of my Mothers insane generation of Mothering.


So you see I have put a lot of thought into this and I am not insinuating that all Mothers are fat, or all fat people are Mothers, or even that you have to be fat to be cool, but just like my wise daughter said to me last week, "Mom, your married and you live on a farm, it's ok to be fat, we love you."
Ahhh, out of the mouths of babes.

I still think I'm cute and I have a great personality, and just because my ass measurements have far surpassed my breast measurements does not make me a bad person.
Does it?