Those marketing folks at L.L. Bean are brilliant. Truly. My new catalog arrived last weekend. There, on the cover, was my dog … not really my dog, but the canine in the jolly red scarf so closely resembled my dear departed Shelby that I could only stare. I did not peruse the catalog and make huge purchases, I’m sure that would disappoint those marketing gurus. I did decide it was time to find a new dog.
If you’ve followed my blog for any length of time, you may have read my post about Shelby. My beloved black lab passed away in June. She’d been with me for 14 years … before my husband, kids and life as I know it now. She helped me finish college, get a job, move away, find new pursuits, and eventually I repaid her by getting married, buying her a bed of her own, and then filling the house will loud, crazy kids to harass her. She can’t be replaced, but it’s time to add someone new to our lives. L.L. Bean sparked my loneliness.
A quick Internet search discovered a shelter not far away with several black lab puppies available. And now, one short week after that ad lab with the big brown eyes implored me to endeavor, Libby has joined our lives. She’s seven weeks old, wears a pink polka-dot collar and gets the hiccoughs every evening. She’s sweet. She’s ornery. She’s not Shelby, but she is the cutest thing since!
Meet our new baby: Libby
Other news from the funny farm …
Marigold the goat is getting entirely too comfortable around here. She follows us around like a dog. She hangs out on the porch. One morning I opened the back door only to witness Daisy the dog and Marigold the goat both coming out of the dog house! The other afternoon I looked across the pasture to a scene that still sends me into shrieks of laughter. Picture it: Cara the Quarter Horse standing proudly in the sun while Butters the pony takes a siesta in the grass in front of her. Daisy the dog sits at attention close by. Marigold the goat is standing … standing! … on Butters’ back. And Butters seemed perfectly content. I don’t know many horses who let goats stand on them, but whatever. As long as the animals are happy, so am I!
Life on the funny farm ...
Well, hubby is cutting wood. Farm boy is farming … and I need to clean up a cookie baking mess and then throw in a load of laundry before Sunday supper at church. We’re eating soup and sandwiches and then out for Christmas caroling. Aahhh, fun, fun. Hope you found a little bit of holiday spirit this weekend!
I need a tractor upgrade!
“God bless us, every one …” especially my husband. He is a good man. He is a patient man. And luckily, he finds humor in my situations.
The kids and I set out to find this year’s tree yesterday afternoon. We were in the market for a tall, thin tree … not the usual suspect: short, stocky and slightly Charlie Brown-ish. We walked behind the house and up and down the hill, in search of THE ONE. We wrapped a brightly-colored scarf around the top branches to signal our choice to the man of the house.
He started the tree felling about 9 p.m. His only comment, “It’s tall.”
Yes, it was tall … and it looked A LOT taller in my house than it did on the hillside. I had assured him it was about eight feet. The reality: it’s 12 of 13 feet tall. And there is only one spot in the whole house where such a gigantic tree will fit. Lucky for me we have a tall step ladder. Lucky for me dear old hubby didn’t mind that I now had to move all of the furniture to accommodate what we jokingly called, “The White House Christmas Tree!”
It is tall. It is heavy. It drinks a heck of a lot of water. It rendered my kids speechless. Yep. It’s this year’s perfect tree. Or it will be, after the kids have a chance to adorn it with their ornaments. Toilet-paper-tube angels and all!
Ohhhhhh. Christmas tree!
Somehow August slipped by without me noticing. We’re deep into September and suddenly the mornings are chilly, darkness arrives much earlier and as my grandma used to quote,
The goldenrod is yellow, the corn is turning brown.
The trees in apple orchards with fruit are bending down.
With all these lovely tokens, September days are here.
Autumn’s best of summer and summer’s best of cheer.
We are eagerly anticipating our Harvest Home Open House and Peddler Sale, Sept. 19-20 from 10-4. We will have primitive decor, pumpkins, dried florals, corn shocks, candles and wonderful, cozy items to decorate your home for autumn. Our primitive peddler, Carol, will offer her wares. She has wonderful wood buckets, primitive wooden bowls, utensils and time-worn treasures. She’ll also have several “show specials” that you don’t want to miss.
This weekend, stop by on your way to the Expo 2008 — Agriculture, Natural Resources and Conservation. It’s Sept. 13 from 10-4, just over the hill from Farmgirl Finds.
Picture this … a sunny Sunday afternoon. Everyone’s sleepy from Sunday dinner. Grandkids are sprawled on the floor with their John Deeres and Internationals, making vroom-vroom noises. Grandparents lament politics and listen for the baby who is sleeping upstairs. The girls are gathered in the kitchen … swapping recipes and discussing the latest must-reads. The boys? They’ve migrated to the porch. Rocking chairs creak as they stretch out for a lengthy digression.
A warning cry goes out. Conversation comes to a halt. Men jump to attention. Binoculars are seized. Rifles are drawn. It’s a red alert and apparently they were prepared.
You’d think we were being invaded. But no …
… nothing so serious. Nothing so devastating. Nothing so urgent or important or vital. No, these men — we prefer to call them ‘boys’ — are defending the women and children, the property and their livelihood … from a lone groundhog 300 yards away. The women were I-M-P-R-E-S-S-E-D.
Note: Don’t worry, the groundhog didn’t even have to duck.
Sweet summer! How do I love thee? Let me count the ways …
I love out-of-control flowerbeds ...
... the promise of tasty treats
... spring chicks turned into happy hens ...
... and the first egg from the new flock.
I love kids who appreciate dirt and mud.
I love tall grass, rolling hills and the wild, blue yonder ...
... and wildflower bouquets from little girls.
I love fresh-picked sweet corn.
Prospering gardens ...
... and shady borders along stone paths.
I love birthday parties ...
... and birdhouses.
And unexpected catastrophes aren't so bad ...
... when paired with a hardworkin' hubby, corn on the cob, watermelon and a cold beer on a hot, sunny day.
Photos from a midsummer evening … brief moments in a vast span of summer days. Take a walk … open your eyes … capture a moment. What does your summer look like?