My Bonnie

Here's a photo of my best barn friend this year, Bonnie. She and Clyde are my first ever experience at raising pork.

I try not to get too attached to the animals I know are being raised for food, however I did not know how personable a coupla piggies would be.
And if you keep their potty area cleaned out, they don't even smell very much.

Bonnie loves being fed animal crackers by the kids, having her skin scratched by the leaf rake, and her favorite foods are apples off our tree, and summer squash.

In this photo, she had just gotten herself a big drink(hence, the goober-slobber under her chin), and seemed to smile for the camera.

My theory on raising livestock was to provide the best environment possible to have the healthiest meat for my family. Raised with love = sweet meat.

However, I think it would be in my best interest to not be home the day Bonnie, and her brother Clyde, are loaded up in the trailer to go to the meat market. This time I've gotten way to attached... 

Yikes! I have to give a Toast!

My very good friend is getting married to a great guy, and I have to give a toast after the ceremony before dinner. Gulp. This is what I came up with while I was in the shower, and wouldn't mind an opinion or two, as I hate embarassing myself in large -living- crowds, espcially if it could be prevented. I'm typing this one grouped in single sentences per line so I can hopefully memorize most of it. (ah-hem)


I met her in High School.
She was the 'new' girl in an old town.

Tristan came to school on her first day, not in a "cute new outfit", but in a thick, black,leather biker jacket...tight shirt...blue jeans, and either black biker boots or canvas high tops.

She walked with confidence and had a gleam of mischief in her eyes, she also had the best make-up and hair I'd ever seen.
I thought "Hmmm...I could learn something from this girl!"

We wound up sitting next to each other in a Literature class, and found we were practically the only two kids that enjoyed reading books.
It was there that our lifelong friendship was established...over a book.

She needed a ride home, I offered, she accepted, and to my surprise, this cool, outspoken, wild thing lived with her parents in one of the nicest townhouses the city of ***** *** had to offer!
On the golf course, even!

She was a Country Club girl wearing a biker jacket, and swearin' like a sailer...incredible.
I have always admired her ability to stand out in a crowd, and thoroughly enjoy it.

Tristan was brilliant...like a star.
I was the voice of reason...like the earth.
She could be difficult...like the ocean.
I was predictable...like the sun.

Given our differences, it would seem unlikely for our friendship to last a lifetime, easily lost along the way like so many do over time.

But when we would sit together at a kitchen table with our sodas, and later our coffee mugs, it seemed we were cut from the same cloth.

We explored each other's ideas and over the years found that together we could solve most of the world's problems, and occasionally even a few of our own.

We have seen each other through the best and worst of times, always hopeful for each other out of love and respect.

She and I followed very different paths to reach our dreams, and today we all have been led here to this beautiful celebration of love and courage.


Bill, you have the honor of beholding a brilliant star in your heart.
Her radiant shine will always light the way, and warm your soul.


Tris, see the man beside you and know you have found your rock.
You have struck gold in this man's presence.
Relish in your good fortune.

Your hearts have found their way, and all of us who love you take great comfort in that.

To all of you here, who love this couple as I do, raise your cups to honor this marriage and bless them with your love.




Arg, I think I edited it to smithereens, and now seems choppy. Or maybe I am too blasted tired to make sense of it anymore. Any constructive criticism?

I am a Rainbow....Awwww

You Are a Rainbow

Breathtaking and rareYou are totally enchanting and intriguing But you usually don't stick around long! You are best known for: your beauty Your dominant state: seducing

What Type of Weather Are You?

Yikes! I can't let my husband see this.....my dominant state is seducing! He thinks it's my cooking! Ha Ha! Can't be giving away all of my secrets to him!

Yet Another Batch Of Canning

Here's a photo from my porch, facing the gardens and garden shed. The running gear you see in the yard is a rolling picnic table my husband made for me several years ago.

Needless to say, we have ample tomatoes and scalding, peeling, chopping, and slow cooking these beauties is not as satisfying as it was earlier this year. But, as with every year, I will be grateful throughout the winter that I took the time to make sauce so I don't have to make a trip into town to buy something to make a quick supper with.

The steel wheel behind the tomatoes is our porch steps handrail. Another cool addition to the Rusty Wheel Acres theme to our home.

Off I go....the boiling water is ready for the tomatoes.

Chickens for Writer Mom

Took the camera out with me during morning chores. These shots seem a little blurry, but it was windy, and the birds just didn't know that they were supposed to hold still.

This is my oldest hen, who is a great leader for the rest of the flock. She never takes them out on the highway, where a few of her peers have met their waterloo. She is a barred rock hen, and must be at least 8 years old.






This is a photo of my banty rooster, who has also been on the farm for more than 8 years. He may be smaller than the other roosters, but don't tell him that....he has the largest group of hens that he looks after. Hmmm wonder what he's hiding under those feathers?! 

Double Edge Sword

Sometimes, do you ever wonder if maybe you're just a little nuts? I found myself wondering this again yesterday when it was my last day of daycare in my home for the summer.

Up to this point, I was eagerly waiting for this day, fantacizing about the idea of spending time with my friends and husband without interruption of a butt needing wiping or something.

I would say to myself "Soon, my dear, a bit of privacy will enter your life...hang on!".

I dreamed of going to the grocery store unattended and unstressed, making leisurely choices, instead of herding anywhere between three to six 6 year olds through the isles, grabbing only necessary items that require no lengthy decision making.

The last day came, and instead of feeling elated, I was intensely forlorn. I love these children, and found personal value in the fact that they needed me. They brought me a hand made card that read "Thank you for helping us bloom", along with a gazing ball for my garden to replace the one that was shattered in a bad hailstorm recently. Yes, I had several minutes of sniffing tear snot until I was able to regain composure.

When their mother came to pick them up, I had to go through the house and gather things that they had brought from home to play with at my house. I grabbed their swimsuits, toys, extra clothes and craft supplies(all stuff that I had complained about picking up), and felt a de ja vue of 'cleaning out my desk' at the end of a 'real' job.

Their mother reached over and hugged me tightly and expressed her gratefulness for how her children were cared for over the summer, and for the experiences we provided for them. It was a better compliment than any 'boss' has offered to me in the past, and was truly sincere.

No one will be coming today. The summer is over. I am not happy.

I should be, I've been complaining for weeks now about how emotionally fatigued I am. These children wore me out with their questions and need for one on one contact.

One girl has a voice that resembles a clarinet with a split reed. However, she was the one who never missed a day of helping with barn chores, singing all the way through. Halfway through the summer, she knew exactly how to take care of everthing in the barn, and how to do it, and being happy to do it. Now I will walk to the barn alone, with a bit less enthusiasm for my hobby. I will gather my eggs, knowing that none of them will be broken before they reach the house, but I won't feel happy about it.

There are so many other examples of how we enriched each others' lives, but yet we took it all for granted that it was 'just another day'.

How can we miss something that drove us nuts? How long will it take to get used to my 'Fall -Winter' schedule, while GirlKid and everyone else is in First Grade? I guess I'll have plenty of time to can those damn tomatoes, after all.