Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Take a walk with me...

Last Saturday, I got off my duff and took a walk around the farm.  It was 75 degrees and sunny which makes it a virtual crime to stay in doors.  I would have liked to take you with me but you were all busy. I know because I peeked in your windows.  You all are impeccable house-keepers. 

Come along with me...

For whatever reason, I always feel like I should provide commentary on every picture but that is not always necessary.  Plus, you might be tired of my snarkiness. 

So, here's some fence posts that are covered in what appears to be green scabs. 

Cows are in a constant state of panic.  For really no reason at all.

Oh, looky.  An outhouse.  How convenient after a long walk. 

Don't mind if I doo.  

 That must have hurt.  Don't ask me why people were eating shoes back in the early 1900's. 

Moving on...

Next stop, an old schoolhouse on the outskirts of the property.  I know a lot about school because I was in for a very, very long time. 

Just ask Sallie freaking Mae. 

I am researching the origin of this early 1900's schoolhouse so I hope to be able to update you at some point.  For now, I've been instructed to talk to the neighbors to my left and the lady at the post office down the road for more information.  However, it's fun to imagine what may have taken place during that time period... 

The inside of the school house.  

Imagine all the lessons that were written on that board or the many noses that were pressed up in the corner...

As a little girl, I wanted to be a school teacher.  My brother, mother and who ever else would give me the time of day were my semi-cooperative pupils.  I won't say I didn't yell at them or give them big red "F's" on their worksheets.  I was tough, but fair.  Mainly, I was just bossy.

 Well, I'm exhausted.  How about you?  Let's go.  While on the way, let's take a picture of the cotton ball clouds.  Sorry if I am excited about the most mundane of objects. 

Almost home.  Calves.  Burning.

Thanks for coming along with me.  

Coming soon, the story of my crazy neighbors.  Literally. 

Friday, May 20, 2011


Montana holds the official title of "Big sky country" but I'm pretty sure West Virginia is its kissing cousin.  Please take a moment to revel in the subtle inference of incest.  

These things come to me in flashes of brilliance.

I hope to show you one day what I mean by "big sky" but my camera has been around for years and is very, very tired.  Its shutter speed is such that the object I intend on capturing on film will have graduated college, gotten married and moved cross country before their image registers.  In other words, the ideal subjects for this rattle-trap Nikon are stationary items like statues, buildings and old people.

Anyway, what was I saying?  Oh yes.  Because of the big sky panoramic views, I am able to forecast inclement weather days in advance.  Well, not days per se.  It sure feels like it.  

Here is a shot of a storm rolling through the other evening.  In the background are Quincy and Winnie being regal. 

The sheep were kept in the barn or "jug" overnight while this weather system moved through because they were getting their hair done cut off the very next morning.  Wet wool is apparently brutal on electric shearers.

The close quarters caused much consternation amongst the community. 

"Say wa? You say this Jerry Curl is coming off?" 

This guy is always consternated. 

At 9:00 the next morning, we had a professional sheep shearer come out the farm and strip these guys nekkid. 

You should know right off the bat that sheep love being on their backs and even more then that, they love loud tools that hover a mere millimeter from their flesh.

Look at how relaxed this guy is?  He's LOVING it.


And just in time for summer, Leila gets a bikini trim.
(sorry, I know that's unsavory but I couldn't help myself)




Coming soon to a mailbox near you, Lands' End Winter Fleece collection 2012.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Meet the Neighbors

Oh boy, oh boy!  I don't even know where to start.  At this juncture in my life, I had imagined I would be living in downtown Chicago with a few kids, a husband, a mortgage and a cute lawn boy to look at because I married for money and not for looks. And because this was birthed from my squirrelly imagination, yes, I would have a lawn in downtown Chicago.

Of course.  

That is why I feel so very blessed that life would throw me this country bone... 

Welcome to el Farm

In the evening when I'm driving home from work is when it hits me.  There are no lights, pedestrians (yuck) or traffic jams.  The only time I get held up is when a neighbor cow stands in the middle of the road and gives me a brown stink eye.  I do not mind cow stink eyes because they are big and brown and sweet.

Well, without further adieu, let me introduce you to some of my friends...

First up, the Bell of the Ball, Charlie or Chaaaarles as I call him.  Charles sheep-sits for a living.  Say that 5 times fast, please.

Here he is practicing yoga.   

Here Charles is napping on the job while sheep are being mangled by neighboring coyotes. 

Does he care?  I don't think so. 

Honestly, are there any other creatures on earth as endearing as sheep with their bulbous bodies propped up by match-stick legs?  It was like God was running out of ideas by the fifth day of creation.

Everyone, meet Oliver.   

Oliver, meet my friends. 
(This guy has a story but I'll save that for another day)

Sheep buns.  They are cute, but trust me,  you don't want any part of it. 

And here we have Nelson after a hard night of partying.  The bottle, along with consuming too much lush pasture, will destroy him. 



Why, look who it is!  Quincy McDougal.  Although he doesn't appear like it here, he's as big as a Tyrannosaurus Rex. 

Quincy's sniffer. 

My pal.

And here are our little hatchlings who, as of this morning, haven't been picked off by neighboring hawks.  It's a brutal world out there. 

 My home on the range...