“Well, I couldn’t do that!” – Defending Our Choices

“Well, I couldn’t do that!” – Defending Our Choices

“Well, I couldn’t do that!” – Defending Our Choices

  If you make any unusual lifestyle choices, I promise you’ll hear this remark.  Sometimes, it’s made in a wistful way, as though the person wishes they could do whatever it is.  As if they really mean, “Wow, that’s wonderful!  I wish I could, but I don’t think I’m strong/clever/brave enough.”  Other times, it’s merely criticism masked as a benign statement.  Then, it really means, “That’s terrible! That makes you a bad person/parent.  I could never do THAT!”  On occasion, it means exactly what it sounds like.  “Hmm, that’s interesting, but I couldn’t do it.”

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Fridays At The Funny Farm: Mission Impossible Accomplished

Fridays At The Funny Farm: Mission Impossible Accomplished

Jonah recently had a birthday.  The Saturday before said birthday, we had the ‘Family/Family Friends Party’!  This is a very odd mixture of people.  It is also a mixture of very odd people.  I mean there are a couple of ‘normals’ thrown in to keep things interesting, but most of us are knowingly guilty of oddness aforethought.

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Filling the Pantry: Where Do You Shop?

Filling the Pantry: Where Do You Shop?

There are only two grocery stores within a thirty-mile radius of my house.  One is VERY expensive, and I’ve gone there exactly twice in the two and a half years we’ve lived here.  The other is a Wal-Mart superstore.  Wal-Mart isn’t my favorite place to shop.  Our Wal-Mart has poor quality produce and meat, but I tend to shop there once a month for staples, household goods, and toiletries. I try to work the rest of my shopping into trips to ‘the city’.  Since I work in a huge city located 80 miles from home, I have lots of options

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What Makes A Good Homesteader

What Makes A Good Homesteader

Fire and Ice.  Oil and Water.  Black and White.  Day and Night.  Seth and Jonah. My two older boys couldn’t be more opposite! Seth is fair-skinned, red-headed, blue-eyed, and fearless to the point of recklessness.  As a kid, before learning to swim, he jumped into the deep end of pools…twice.  The first time, age three and a half, I pulled him out and he said, “I wanted to see what the deep part was like.  I knew you’d pull me out before I ‘drownded’.”  He repeated the experiment at age four and a half.  That time, when I pulled his

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Fridays at the Funny Farm: The Green Acres Gaffe

Fridays at the Funny Farm: The Green Acres Gaffe

Our farmhouse sits on about five acres of ‘yard’.  These five acres are much more trouble than the other 25+ acres of ‘pasture’.  Why, you ask?  Because, they’re encircled by a wooden rail fence. Although the fence is fairly aesthetically pleasing, it has a serious downside.  You can easily spot the downside when you notice the sheep’s reaction to it.  They don’t wander about inside it.  They don’t poke their heads through its gaps and graze on the other side.  No!  They put their hooves over their mouths in a failed attempt to smother laughter as they run straight through

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Mawage! Mawage Is Wot Bwings Us Togeder Tooday

Mawage!  Mawage Is Wot Bwings Us Togeder Tooday

An Open Letter To Young Women Today’s post is neither farm nor food related.  However, it is something I’ve been thinking about lately.  So, I decided to take the blogger’s privilege and write it anyway. Last month, Liam and I celebrated our 29th wedding anniversary.  We met when I was twelve and began ‘going-steady when I was sixteen.  Our wedding was two months after my eighteenth birthday.  For those of you who are mathematically challenged, I’ll confess that makes me 47 years old.  Though each of us dated other people, we are each other’s only loves, only sexual partners, and

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What’s New on the Farm? Swearing Cats, Attack Rabbits, and Daft Chickens

What’s New on the Farm? Swearing Cats, Attack Rabbits, and Daft Chickens

Oh, my! So, there are some new farmy friends around here.  First, meet Nemo. Nemo was adopted by our family twice.  First, I brought him home to be a barn cat.  I planned on him living outside and helping keep the mouse-y, mole-y, vole-y, icky populations under control.  However, Grace claimed him the moment she laid eyes on him.  She reminded me that I’d promised she could have a kitten to replace our dear old Killian who passed away this spring.  I pointed out the obvious litter box and cat shedding issues, but a promise is a promise.  (Liam and

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Staying Afloat in a Sea of Green: Processing Zucchini

Staying Afloat in a Sea of Green: Processing Zucchini

Last year’s garden was abysmal.  There, I said it.  We built raised beds and hauled in special soil.  The soil was a tremendous disappointment.  Anything planted in it struggled to stay alive, refused to grow, or just keeled over graveyard-dead.  Then, I had my second surgery and wasn’t allowed in the garden for the rest of the season.  My kids and husband, who already have full plates of their own, had to take on my chores.   Inevitibly, some things fell through the cracks.  Things like watering and weeding. So, this year the kids dumped what seemed like tons of

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Fridays at the Funny Farm: This Means WAR!

Fridays at the Funny Farm: This Means WAR!

Gather around, boys and girls!  Before we get to today’s funny, we need to have story time! Once upon a time, many (many) years ago, a perfectly well-behaved teenage girl took eleventh grade French.  The girl made good grades and caused no trouble.  If she was a little talkative, at least she and her friend Hufflepuff did their illicit chatting in French.  (Heck, they probably should’ve received extra-credit for all that practice.) The French teacher, however, did not believe they deserved credit.  She believed all smart children should be perfectly behaved.  When her constant pacing and patrolling didn’t evoke the

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Meal Planning: Avoiding Umming and Erring

Meal Planning: Avoiding Umming and Erring

My wonderful, brilliant, witty husband suffers from a debilitating condition.  Though the signs and symptoms were there all his life, we only found the actual diagnosis during nursing school.  Shall I share the name of his condition?  I shall.  My otherwise (almost) perfect spouse suffers from: Chronic Blank Page Syndrome.

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