Meet And Greet With Cary
© Copyright 2008 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where the new puppies are growing faster than I can answer all your fun questions about them, but hopefully I'll have some answers posted soon. Thanks for your patience, and in the meantime, enjoy the cute before they get to be 125 pounds apiece!
Our Latest Defense Against The Coyotes
© Copyright 2008 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where just because you're adorable doesn't mean you can't be scary, too - and one of the toughest things about farm life is knowing that you're not supposed to cuddle the livestock guard dogs.
A Man & His Supervisor
"Um, honey? The bathtub just puked up the dishwater I poured down the kitchen sink."
So yesterday Joe dug into what we thought was a small plumbing problem.
Way More Exciting Than Watching The Superbowl
Turns out it's more like a medium plumbing problem. But at least it stopped snowing. And hasn't started raining yet. And the ground isn't frozen. Well, not solid anyway.
Want to see more?
Hunky Farmguy Photos
Lucky Buddy Bear Photos
Dog Photos
Snow Photos
Farm Life Tidbits
© Copyright 2008 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares more than you probably want to know about life on 240 remote Missouri acres - and the dirty dishes are starting to pile up.
Daphne Is Very Curious - And Bear Is Very Tolerant
Welcome New York Post readers!
Click here for a brief introduction to this site.
Want to see more?
--There are all sorts of Lucky Buddy Bear photos here
--You're find even more dog photos here
--There are other photos of Daphne here
--And more donkey photos are here
© Copyright 2008 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares stories & photos of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.
Or is that an upside down happy dance?
Welcome new visitors!
Click here for a brief introduction to this site.
We won! Farmgirl Fare has been named Best Rural Food Blog in the Well Fed Network's 2007 Food Blog Awards. Many thanks to all of you who voted for us, and to the judges for their hard work. A big congratulations to the 13 other winners, and to the other finalists in the rural category - Nami-Nami (Estonia), Garlic Breath (France), and Lucullian Delights (Italy) are three of my favorite food blogs.
And now I have to go break it to the sheep that there isn't any actual food associated with winning a Food Blog Award. (It's hard to think about anything else when you're walking around with four stomachs.)
© Copyright 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares stories & photos of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.
Out Enjoying The Fleeting Autumn Scenery
And fleeting it was. A few blustery days have stripped nearly all the trees bare. I took this photo back on November 4th while my mother was visiting. When I dropped her off at the airport one of the last things she said was, "We didn't go walking enough!" True. We were pretty busy cooking and eating, but we did manage to do the short walk (two miles rather than the entire four) at least half of the days she was here.
The beautiful weather and gorgeous scenery were certainly reason enough to get us out of the kitchen and hiking up our steep driveway and along the hilly ridge above the farm, but it was also an easy way to work up an appetite for our next meal!
As far as this photo goes, I don't know if I should be afraid that I'm repeating myself, or feel comforted in the fact that I'm consistent. Joe and I were looking at photos I'd posted this time last year, and I pointed out how similar one of them was to the photo above. Then he pointed out that I'd actually photographed the exact same bend in the mile-and-a-half-long stretch of road, just from a little further back.
It's funny how many times I've found myself taking pictures of the exact same thing. But in this constantly changing world of ours, I think the real comfort comes in knowing that certain things around the farm, rather than my eye, remain steadily consistent from one year to the next.
Want to see more?
Youl'l find plenty of autumn color here.
All sorts of farm landscape photos here.
And lots more pictures of Lucky Buddy Bear here.
© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares stories & photos of her crazy country life on 240 remote acres.
Weeding Supervisor at 3:17 pm
Weeding Supervisor at 3:24 pm
It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it. And because nobody gets away with having only one job around here, Robin was, among other things, also this year's Haying Supervisor.
Robin's big beagle smile is infectious, and she emanates sheer joy and an exuberance for life during every waking moment. Everything is an adventure, and nothing gets her down. I often remind myself that I need to be more like this wonderful little dog.
It's been almost eleven years since Robin came trotting into my heart on her half-frozen baby puppy paws--and every day since I've been so very grateful that she did.
Want to see more?
You'll find plenty of other photos of Robin here. And you can read about how she turned up all those years ago here.
© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares stories & photos of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.
Squirrel!
Lucky Buddy Bear is half Australian Shepherd and half English Shepherd. Most of the time he's much more interested in his flock of sheep than all the crazy squirrels around here, but he does like to give them a top speed run for their money. I have no doubt that someday I'll see Bear head straight up a tree after one.
You'll find Bear stories & lots more photos here.
© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.
Forest By Mother Earth
Accessories By Mother Nature
Something strange is going on. On July 16th, I took 81 photographs. I haven't taken a single one since. At some point during the past 12 days I stopped lugging around my beloved camera and didn't even notice.
I'm blaming summer. I don't function well when it gets above 80 degrees (okay, okay 65). Toss in 90% humidity (yes, that's really what it is, I just checked), and my brain hangs out a giant Do Not Disturb sign, while my body wishes it could do the same. Even the smallest outdoor chores feel monumental.
When I moved from northern California to Missouri back in 1994 it was November. And it was lovely. A big ice storm hit the small town we were staying in a few days after our arrival, and every single thing became encased in ice. While everyone else was huddled indoors staying warm, I bundled up and went for walks, admiring the glistening landscape that had magically appeared overnight. I felt as if I'd moved to Disneyland.
Then people began asking me if I'd been here in the summer yet. Lots of people. People who all said a variation of the exact same thing: "I thought it was humid in [insert nearly any state in the country here], but that was nothing compared to Missouri." I started getting very nervous. And unfortunately my fears did not go unfounded. Summer in southern Missouri must be experienced to be believed, and in a bad year you have from early May until late September to experience it.
I realize, of course, that there are many lizard-type people who think there is nothing better than lying on a burning hot rock in the scorching sun while most of the water in your body pours out of your skin at a medically alarming rate. It's too bad I'm not one of them. In my opinion, if you're not moving, you shouldn't be sweating profusely.
All of this whining is in fact leading to a point.
I know that many of you have come to believe I live a picture perfect life in a picture perfect place, and while I don't like to complain about all the bad stuff (and on a farm we definitely get our share of it), once in a while I think it's only fair to set you straight.
It's beautiful here. Really, really beautiful. Stops-me-in-my-tracks several times a day beautiful. My life is far from perfect, but I do in fact live in a picture perfect place. What you do not want to do, however, is actually climb into some of the pictures. Take the one at the top for example. I could have said nothing about it and simply let you believe that Bear and I were out for a pleasant stroll in the woods, enjoying nature and the crisp, refreshing air.
The reality, though, is that despite the early morning hour, it was already very hot and very muggy, and my clothes were completely soaked with sweat. A small part of my brain was functioning well enough to see the photo opportunity in front of me, but the rest of it was taken up with counting out how many more months until autumn on my fingers, and thinking about how much nicer everything would look if it were covered with several inches of snow. Right now it feels like a jungle. A jungle with pine trees.
I wasn't planning to write this. I was actually in the middle of watering the garden and feeding insect-ravaged turnip greens and Swiss chard to Whitey and her not-so-baby-anymore chicks (yes, I promise a long overdue chick update is coming soon). I only popped inside to jot down a couple of notes before the sun zapped them right out of my mind, which is what's been constantly happening lately.
Originally I was going to post these two photos with nothing but their captions and let you think whatever you like. In retrospect, that may have been the better way to go. You could have stared contently at them, letting out a small sigh and taking in a deep breath of cool woodland air. But as they say, misery loves company, and so I thought it only fair to hit you head-on with a sweat-drenched, furnace-like blast of my summer reality instead. Besides, the longer I sit here and type, the longer I can stay holed up in my little office--the only room in The Shack with air-conditioning--before I have to open the door and step back out into those perfect pictures where there won't be any snow for months.
P.S. There are plenty of nice winter photos in the monthly archives located on the homepage sidebar if you feel like cooling off.
© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the sweat-drenched foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres—no matter what the weather.
© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.
Lucky Buddy Bear—Stock Dog Extraordinaire
Slight change of plans. Since this is about the least treacherous stretch of our steep and curving (and very icy) driveway, we cancelled last Thursday's scheduled sheep shearing session. We didn't want our sheep shearer to make it down the driveway and then not be able to climb back out.
The last thing I want to do is annoy him in any way, as sheep shearers are few and far between around here, and this guy is really good. When I heard he was out of commission last year due to a broken leg, I started making panicky phone calls looking for a substitute shearer and came up empty.
Fortunately he was a fast healer, and late in the season I managed to sweet talk him out of his convalescence and into coming out and shearing our overheated sheep.
More below. . .
Lucky Buddy Bear in the Haybarn
Yep, I'm still sick. It's only a cold (I think), but apparently it really, really likes me. Thanks so much for all of your supportive and kind comments and e-mail messages. I'd probably be all better by now if I'd been slurping up lots of warm and tasty homemade soup, but (even after extolling its virtues just the other day) I haven't had a single drop. How embarrassing. I did manage to churn out a couple beautiful loaves of what I now fondly refer to as Braindead Bread--because even if you're completely spaced out, you'll still end up with a delicious finished product.
This time around, though, my dough was very, very wet, and instead of adding more flour to it, I simply left it as it was (making sure I put tons of flour on the tea towels and wooden peel to keep it from sticking). The resulting loaves had the largest air holes yet, bearing an uncanny resemblance to photos of Italian breads I've seen. I found them quite nice, but be warned: certain people may question why on earth anyone would want gigantic holes in their bread--especially when you don't know they're there until you've sliced into it. (Note: these people will probably be yammering on about this after having polished off half a warm loaf.)
I baked three gorgeous, golden loaves of Farmhouse White, too (in my favorite new pans), but if I mention that bread one more time without offering up a recipe, the e-mails are gonna get ugly. Oops. I told you I was braindead. Update: The recipe is here!
Oh, and one more thing. I'm currently averaging about a two-week reply time to e-mail messages, so if you're waiting to hear from me and haven't, that's why. Thanks very much for your patience.
A year of Farm Photos ago:
1/25/06: Dusk From A Different View
1/24/06: Slash
1/23/06: Watered Down Handmade Fence
1/22/06: Not Stuck, Just Resting (I still love this photo.)
And WDB #18: Lucky Buddy Bear Up Close & Personal
Welcome new visitors!
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© Copyright FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares recipes, stories, and photos from her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acre—when she's feeling up to it, that is.
Lucky Buddy Bear Is On Alert No Matter What The WeatherNote: After writing this essay (which was supposed to only be one paragraph), I decided that it needed a title, and "A Place To Bark" immediately popped into my head--probably because it's the name of the non-profit animal rescue run by one of my new favorite people in the world, Bernie Berlin. Talk about perfect timing. I had planned to write about Bernie and all that she is doing to singlehandedly save hundreds of homeless dogs and cats literally destined for death when she had her benefit art auction on ebay up and running. . .well, the auction has begun! I still want to borrow her name for my title, so I thought it only appropriate to mention her here.
If you love animals and want to see the amazing difference that one person can make in the world, check out Bernie's blog, A Place To Bark. . . And Meow. Just be sure to grab a tissue first--I don't think I've ever made it through a single post without tears streaming down my face (the good kind). Attention all you art lovers: Click here to go to the ebay auction site where you can support Bernie's animal rescue efforts and purchase one of a kind, donated artwork at the same time.
There's a scene in Larry McMurtry's book, Texasville, when Duane's dog Shorty is yapping incessantly, and Duane's wife Karla says, "Instead of getting him neutered, we should have had them take his barker out." Years after first reading it, I still find that line hysterical. I just love the image of a dog having a removable barker. That said, I think one of the best things about living out in the country, miles from the nearest neighbor, is that your dogs can bark as long and as loud as they like. And if you're smart, you quickly realize that is exactly what you want them to do.When I adopted Rex as a six-month-old puppy from the local animal shelter back in 1992, I was living in a tiny house on a tiny lot in the middle of a sprawling Northern California city. Rex quickly grew into a 95-pound lovable behemoth who spent most of the time lounging around the backyard. Apart from the fact that he routinely (and mysteriously) escaped from said yard while we were at work, he was extremely well-behaved. (I would return home to find him grinning and bouncing around the tiny front lawn, which happened to be surrounded by a little white picket fence and thus acted as a giant playpen. To this day I have no idea who kindly kept sticking him in there.)
Rex may have been an escape artist, but he was a very quiet one. He did not whine, and he rarely barked. I don't recall ever having to tell him to hush. Every 10 days or so, he would let out one deep, bellowing woof, and then he would give me a look that said, "I couldn't help it, Mom. I was about to explode." And I always told him that I understood completely.Rex clearly realized that, hard as it might be, one must strictly obey certain noise ordinances when living in a crowded urban area. As soon as he moved to remote Windridge Farm, though, he instinctively knew that the rules had changed, and he immediately began making up for lost time. He barked at absolutely everything. He barked at squirrels and birds in the trees and airplanes that soared overhead and cars a half mile down the driveway and faraway hounds in the woods. Sometimes he simply barked for the sheer joy of being able to do so. It was wonderful.Now I live with Robin and Bear, and they both take their guard dog duties seriously. These duties mostly include barking of course, and sometimes the two of them go at it all night long, bravely protecting us from monsters and unknown enemy attack. And although their yelps and howls often wake me up, I never get angry or annoyed. It's reassuring to hear that they are hard at work, and it's easy to fall back to sleep because I know that I am safe.I have also come to know their many different barks along with their corresponding meanings. I can easily tell, for example, if they are barking at something that is far off in the distance or right here in the yard. And so early this morning when both dogs began simultaneously howling their heads off while I was still padding around the living room in my slippers, I knew right away that something they considered very bad was not far from the house. And I was right. I opened the back door in time to see Bear race across the lawn, shoot through the fence, and tear up the wooded hillside after a coyote, letting out a stream of ferocious woofs the entire time. Robin was nearly as loud and not far behind.The coyote count far outweighs the human one in our little valley, and if I'm outside at night I can often hear packs of them singing to the stars and the moon. That's one of the other great things about not having any neighbors--you are free to howl right back at them, and so I usually do. I used to think that glimpses of coyotes were more common in the days after snowstorms because the animals were driven out of hiding in search of food. This morning, though, as I watched that grey-brown, furry body and bushy tail lope off into the woods, I realized that I was probably wrong. The coyotes are always close by--they're simply easier to see against a snow white backdrop. It's not a very comforting thought, but I know I need not worry. My loudly barking dogs are on the job.Attention Dog Lovers! This is Weekend Dog Blogging #63!
Head over to Sweetnicks every Sunday night for the complete roundup of cute canine candids. Wanna join in? Just post your pup and email the permalink to Sweetnicks.
A year of Daily Photos ago:
Another Same Scene, New View Series
