My Favorite Santa

is a wooden man about twenty inches tall and of undetermined age.  

His joints are more far easier to move than mine.

Santa was a gift from my sister, Beverly, years ago

She doesn't know how old he is.  

Doesn't matter, I'm keeping him.

He stays out all year for my pleasure.

Merry Christmas!

This N That

fungi on a log

Here I share tiny pieces as we all do, glimpses into parts of our daily lives. This is not a reality show so you don't get the in your face daily living dramas, tragedies and triumphs...not all of them so I'm gonna hit some highlights.

Marcy, my oldest sister, has passed her tests and remains cancer free for another year.  The tests and checks are getting farther apart.  I do the driving.

Beverly, my second sister (yep, I'm the baby), is still operating The Shop, mostly by herself. I go up now and then to help.  Things are still moving out and moving on.

Hubby is holding steady on his heart health but I can tell some days are worse than others. We are relatively young, he 64 and I 61, but we seem to be going downhill.

Our outings are mostly grocery and doctor runs,

We have a boomerang child.

Andrew graduates this year.

We no longer have any livestock.  Down to one rooster...they were quite old.

Hubby has the garden plowed for spring planting.

We have a list of work that NEEDS to be done as long as all our arms put together.

Sadly the elders here all woven together would not make one healthy person but we keep on keeping on.

On the brighter side, we are still here, pecking away at daily living.  We have acreage to explore, fishing, hunting, fresh water, sunshine and rain.  We are blessed.

The Sign

When we first moved to the farm we raised miniature horses.  My sister, Beverly, and I had cleaned and repaired the barn from one end to the other.  I gave tours to groups at no charge. I was just proud of what we had accomplished and wanted to share with the world.

During the repairs we found many pieces of our family history had been destroyed just by storing them so many years in a barn.  I took the pieces, and, yes, I knew the story for every piece and made a sign.  I had a piece of something that belonged to every member of the family generations past.

 I even had t-shirts made. Front

and back. (Raindrops on the shirt not stains)

After the tornado the barn and the sign (and many other things) had much damage.  This past month I tried to resurrect my sign.  Too much destroyed so I began anew.  Different pieces but the same purpose...to share the name we chose.

All that remained of the original sign was part of an F so I began there.

I gathered pieces of this and that and pieced them together to recreate my original sign.  It's not the same but we are labeled again.

Some may wonder why At The Farm.  Before we moved here someone would ask, Where's Dad? Where's Hubby?  At The Farm was always the answer so with my horses' registration I used At The Farm as the suffix instead of the standard prefix in a farm/ranch name.  

The first filly born here was Angel's Trumpet At The Farm and the first colt was named Walking Small At The Farm...see where I'm going besides in circles?

When my sister, Beverly, said I should blog the name came naturally...At The Farm.

Although we are no longer a horse ranch nor a cattle ranch the name remains mainly because of my blog.  Presenting the new old sign and it's new location...Ta daaaaa!

Not Crop Circles...

We have crop rectangles.

Bev has been working on a porch for the shop.  First she lays out all the boards, paints them top and bottom.  It will simply be a matter of transporting the boards and then nailing them together at the shop.

Great job, Bev.

Our Garden Guru

is always working.

My middle sister, Beverly,

 is why this place looks so good.

The kitchen garden behind Marcy's house

and the big garden full of treats

are all thanks to this hard working lady.

Thanks, Bev, we could never do it without you!

For Her Birthday, Bev Got A Dollie...

Not the kind with arms and legs,

This one has wheels.

She is thrilled.

Beverly is the one who plants, waters and weeds the garden.

She is the one getting us all organized

and preparing the shop to open.

She is the one who works,

tirelessly,

endlessly,

lovingly,

for us all.

Happy, happy birthday, Beverly.

Thanks for all you do...

now you can do more!

The Sisters' Garden...

Despite the heat,

no rain,

abundant bugs,

and grazing wild life,

the garden still grows.

It is producing,

each plate of food is a hard won victory.

and the bugs,

the critters,

and my sisters still work on the garden.

The Garden Grows...

and flourishes with all the rain.

Bev works in the salad garden

and works magic.

At The Farm,

every one works,

but we still manage to have a little fun, too.

Thankfulness...

for sun and rain,

salad gardens that are rooster proof,

and Beverly who keeps them growing.

Beverly and The Sunflower Harvest

They aren't standing to greet the sun like they used to do.  The heat has finally reached the sun flowers, true lovers of the sun.

Beverly sometimes takes her car straight to the garden when she arrives.  No fancy equipment for her, no siree!  Use what you got is her motto and she does it so well.

It is sad that the sunflowers have reached their peak but oh, I can just taste those seeds!

What we don't eat will be fed to our feathered friends.

I Missed Saturday

so I have to make it up today. Warning!!! Two post day.

Twin glass topped barrels added to my area

It was a busy day. At eight AM Den and I were waiting for the cattle panel business to open. We loaded a lot! This is to avoid the use of my round pen for weaning, doctoring, and fattening of calves. My round pen is so handy for that, now there is no excuse, Den has his own panels.

A wonderful thing happens while I was there. The owner was showing me his office all made of recycled lumber and tin. He knew the story and the year for each piece he had used. I noticed a wonderful cabinet on the front porch and asked him if it was for sale. No. Then I heard the sad story of his wooden barrel being blown away and broken. He had all the pieces. You know where I am going, right? I got the wonderful piece of furniture for putting his old barrel back together. He wanted to use it for a trash can. I have my work cut out but I can do it!

The piece...needs some work but can't beat the price!

Back to the farm, my prize piece of furniture was taken out, loaded in the tractor bucket, and unloaded in the house.

Beverly arrived and we went to work. We did not get a big area finished but, oh, the work we did. I concentrated on the tool closet, she concentrated getting things in their correct home. I have nicely marked and organized containers of screws, nails, bolts, nuts and washers. You can find the tools in the dark! Everything is sorted to its kind and surely looks better than it did.

A different statue for my favorite table

The view over my kitchen sink, I can gaze out the window at the beautiful valley as I do kitchen chores. As you can tell, my style is extremely different and I only use things I love. Hope you have enjoyed my farm house.

The Memphis Zoo

"Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves." Speaking of the web of life.

Bev, looking around for the man she just knocked out of his boots.

Observing the captured animals as they observed the captor race.

Touching Buddha for luck.

Meet the new man on the block...resting and waiting for the women to come to him.

The Fire King and Queen Hit Again

How do they get this all done while I am hiding at work?? Bev worked all day outside and as soon as Den got in he jumped on the Kubota and went to work too. Notice the disc on the back of the tractor. One garden spot is done and ready for potatoes. The other main garden is still a little too wet.

Beverly was having a small controlled burn

Just a few branches from the yard, not even the tip of the iceberg

Kubota King pushing the logs on

Today is Marcy's birthday. Andrew is hiding. Marcy is the one who takes the great pictures, packs my lunch, cares for my youngest grandson, grows the garden, cans the food...Marcy is the matriarch of the farm.