Which Text Reads Best? A Five Second Survey

I need a little help. I write this blog for you, but I have no idea how it looks on your computer. Please take a few seconds to compare the text samples below and let me know which one you think looks the best. Then simply leave a comment with your choice: A, B, C, or D. A & B are the same font, Verdana, in different sizes. C is Georgia.

8/7/07 Update: Many thanks to all of you who have already taken the time to respond. I really appreciate it, and the extra info you've offered is very helpful. I personally like Choice A the best (obviously, since I've been using it), but lately I've been thinking that this type might be too small for some people to comfortably read. So far it's looking like I may be right, and that Choice B might be the better way to go. Legibility over looks! Now if I could only figure out a way to please all of the people all of the time. : )

Any other feedback regarding the visual and technical aspects of Farmgirl Fare, both positive and negative, is welcome and greatly appreciated. Feel free to leave an anonymous comment if you wish. Thanks so much!

Choice A:

Cooling Off With A Look Back At Winter
Journal entry -- December 8, 1995
It was snowing when I got up this morning, and everything was already covered in white. I could see the dogs curled up in each side of their duplex doghouse, but the only cat to be found was Buster.* He was crouching on the patio in front of the house, about to pounce on a lone brown bird pecking at the ground beneath the bird feeder. He wiggled that way cats do when they're ready to attack, but before he could lunge the bird fluttered away.

There were two bright red cardinals in a nearby bush, but Buster's attentions had moved on to the snow. He was busy chasing invisible creatures, leaping with his paws out in front of him, splashing through the powder. He went back and forth, back and forth all over the patio. Within seconds the entire blanket of pristine snow had been torn up by little cat feet.


Choice B:

Cooling Off With A Look Back At Winter
Journal entry -- December 8, 1995
It was snowing this morning, and everything was covered in white. I could see the dogs curled up in each side of their duplex doghouse, but the only cat to be found was Buster.* He was crouching on the patio in front of the house, about to pounce at a lone brown bird pecking at the ground beneath the bird feeder. He wiggled that way cats do when they're ready to attack, but before he could lunge, the bird fluttered away.

There were two bright red cardinals in a nearby bush, but Buster's attentions had moved on to the snow. He was busy chasing invisible creatures, leaping with his paws out in front of him, splashing through the powder. He went back and forth, back and forth all over the patio. Within seconds the entire blanket of pristine snow had been torn up by little cat feet.


Choice C:

Cooling Off With A Look Back At Winter
Journal entry -- December 8, 1995
It was snowing this morning, and everything was covered in white. I could see the dogs curled up in each side of their duplex doghouse, but the only cat to be found was Buster.* He was crouching on the patio in front of the house, about to pounce at a lone brown bird pecking at the ground beneath the bird feeder. He wiggled that way cats do when they're ready to attack, but before he could lunge, the bird fluttered away.

There were two bright red cardinals in a nearby bush, but Buster's attentions had moved on to the snow. He was busy chasing invisible creatures, leaping with his paws out in front of him, splashing through the powder. He went back and forth, back and forth all over the patio. Within seconds the entire blanket of pristine snow had been torn up by little cat feet.


Choice D:
You mean people read all this stuff? I only stop by for the photos.

*Buster was Molly Doodlebug's dad. She looks like a miniature version of him and even struts around trying to look tough like he used to, though of course it doesn't work since she only weighs 4-1/2 pounds.

Apple Blueberry Crumble Bars Recipe & The Ups and Downs of My Blueberry Connection

Apple Blueberry Crumble Bars with an oat crust and streusel topping

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Susan, your blueberry customer who raises sheep."

"Of course. How are you? How many lambs did you have this year?"

My local blueberry supplier recently acquired a small flock of his own, and he loves to talk sheep, but eventually I was able to steer him back to the matter at hand.

"I was calling to see how the blueberries are doing this year."

"You remember that bad freeze we had back in April?" Oh yes.

"Well, things aren't looking too good." Oh no.

"I can put you on The List." I could hear paper fluttering in the background. "I've got pages and pages of people here. You wouldn't believe how many customers have been calling about blueberries. Everybody calls when they open up their last bag from the freezer." Yep, that would be me.

"Um, I think I should already be on The List. I ordered five gallons when I picked up my five gallons last year."

"Oh, then you're probably on it."

"So how many blueberries do you think you'll get?"

"Maybe 50 or 60 gallons if I'm lucky." This was not sounding good.

"And how many do you normally get?"

"I should be getting 400. Last year I got 250, though the smaller harvest meant the berries were all large and juicy." I remember. "During the year I barter. When I buy something from someone or have them do work for me, they say, 'Just pay me in blueberries.' At this point I'm not even sure I'll have enough to pay them all." This was just getting better and better.

"If you find somebody else selling blueberries, I'd buy them." Great. Like who?

Then we went back to talking about sheep, and the conversation ended with him extending an invitation to come over one day soon for a lunch of homegrown lamb enchiladas made with chiles from last year's garden and corn tortillas from his own corn, served up with a salad of freshly picked lettuce.

"This isn't just one of those off-the-cuff invitations," he assured me. "This is real. I can't find anybody around here to eat this stuff with me." Okay, so maybe all was not lost—just my year's supply of berries.

The first summer I spent in Missouri, I planted a giant garden that provided me with, among other things, an enormous number of cucumbers, and I was determined that not a single one should go to waste. (This was before I kept ravenous, veggie loving chickens, which allows me to be a lot lazier and not feel guilty about it.)

I remember asking a friend if she thought I should go ahead and put up more than the 36 jars of dill pickles I already had stashed in a cupboard in my studio/office.

"You might as well. You may not get any cucumbers next year."

"Really? Why?" Was there some big fatal cucumber blight predicted that I didn't know about? "What's going to happen next year?"

"I have no idea. Anything could happen. You never know what could go wrong."

To a newish gardener who was still glowing from recent success and hadn't yet had many natural disasters befall her bounty, total crop failure seemed impossible, not to mention totally unfair.

Twelve Missouri farm years later, I understand completely.

Blueberries are in season in many places right now. If you find someone selling them, buy them. Just be sure to buy enough for next year, too.

One of the nicest things about blueberries is that they freeze beautifully, so you can easily enjoy them, and these bars, all year long. You don't even have to spread them out in a single layer on baking sheets like you do for raspberries or blackberries. To freeze blueberries, just fill up a zipper freezer bag or plastic container and toss them into the freezer.

An outing to a pick-your-own farm is a wonderful way to spend the day with kids and take home some delicious bounty. PickYourOwn.org is a great resource for finding pick-your-own farms in your area and even includes listings in other countries.



Farmgirl Susan's Apple Blueberry Crumble Bars
Makes on 9"x13" pan — 12 to 16 large bars

**Click here to print this recipe**

Some of you will recognize these as a variation of the Blueberry Bonanza Breakfast Bars I created last summer, when I did get my five gallons of fresh blueberries. In September I made a peachy blueberry version, and a friend I shared some with has been raving and hinting about them ever since.

A few months ago I wangled her into leaving the craziness on her farm to come spend the day giving wormer shots to the 91 sheep on mine, bribing her with the promise of large quantities of kitchen garden bounty and homemade baked goods. I even sent her home with frozen pizza. (I was the one who ended up with the best present of all that day, though, as this was the friend who brought Whitey the fertilized eggs.)

"Did you make any of those blueberry peach things?" she asked when she called to say she was on her way.

"I couldn't. I didn't have any peaches. But I made you some with apples and blueberries instead."

"That sounds. . . interesting." I took this to be nice talk for Yuck.

When she arrived I offered her one of the experimental apple blueberry bars as an energy boost before we got to work, and after two thoughtfully chewed bites she turned to me and said, "I do believe these taste better than the ones with peaches."

Of course the best thing about these bars is that adding the apples makes my now precious blueberries go a lot further.

Don't let the three separate layers in this recipe scare you away; they come together quickly and you only need to dirty up two mixing bowls. With the oatmeal crust and streusel topping, these bars remind me of an eat-with-your-hands cross between apple blueberry pie and apple blueberry crisp.

They can be enjoyed any time of day: put one in a lunchbox, pack some on a picnic, or munch on one in the car on your way to pick up the kids at school. You can cut them into squares, wrap them up individually, and freeze them for an instant snack.

For a comfort food dessert of the highest order, cut into the pan while they're still warm and gooey and serve them up in bowls alongside scoops of vanilla ice cream and topped with a handful of fresh blueberries.

My blueberries are large and not super sweet. If yours are the smaller and sweeter wild variety, you may want to use a little less sugar in the middle layer. Choose your favorite kind of apple; a combination of tart and sweet is very nice.

Feel free to substitute whole wheat flour for some or all of the white flour in the crust and/or the streusel topping. To give them another healthy boost, you could mix some chopped walnuts or almonds or pecans into the topping.

As always, I urge you to seek out local and organic ingredients; they really do make a difference. Even organic sugars are becoming mainstream.

Bottom Layer
2 cups organic old-fashioned oats (not quick oats)
1 cup organic all-purpose flour
1 cup (packed) light brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
12 Tablespoons (1½ sticks/6 ounces) organic butter, melted
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Top Layer
1 cup organic all-purpose flour
1/2 cup (packed) light brown sugar
1/2 cup (1 stick/4 oz) organic butter or natural vegetable oil sticks such as Earth Balance

Middle Layer
2 cups fresh or frozen blueberries
3 generous cups unpeeled chopped apples (about 5 small/19 oz)
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3 Tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg (1/2 teaspoon if pre-ground)

For the Bottom Layer:
Heat the oven to 425 degrees. Grease a 9" x 13" pan. (I love my  Chicago Metallic commercial bake and roast pans and these heavy duty USA Pans are really nice too.)

In a large bowl, combine the oats, flour, brown sugar, baking soda, and salt. Stir in the melted butter and vanilla until thoroughly combined. Press this mixture evenly into the bottom of the pan with your fingers. I also use the bottom of a stainless steel measuring cup to help make the crust flat and even.

For the top layer:
Place the flour, brown sugar, and butter in a small bowl and use a fork, pastry blender, or your fingers to combine until the mixture resembles large crumbs (some pea-sized clumps are okay). Set aside.

For the middle layer:
Place the blueberries and apples in the bowl you mixed the bottom layer in. Add the sugar, flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg and toss until well combined.

Sprinkle the top layer evenly over the fruit mixture. Bake at 425 degrees for 15 minutes, then lower the oven temperature to 350 degrees and bake until the top is golden and looks "dry," but the edges aren't too brown, about 25 to 35 minutes.

Let cool in pan on a wire rack. Serve warm or at room temperature, with ice cream if desired. Store leftover bars in a cool place or refrigerate. They may also be individually wrapped in plastic and frozen.

Still hungry? You'll find links to all my sweet and savory Less Fuss, More Flavor recipes in the Farmgirl Fare Recipe Index.

© FarmgirlFare.com, the fruit filled foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo 8/5/07: Mama Whitey and Her Brood

Mother as landing pad

This gives a whole new meaning to 'letting your children walk all over you.' I took this photo back on June 14th, when Whitey's seven baby chicks were ten days old and beginning to figure out that if you flapped your wings, you could lift off the ground.

But the only place to set down once you were airborne was on mom's back, where the landing was soft but the terrain was uneven and slippery. This prime spot was highly coveted, and there were times when Whitey had two chicks wobbling on top of her while two or three others prepared to launch an invasion and claim the territory.

Whitey didn't seem to mind all this, apparently accepting it as simply one more thing that comes with being a mother.

I hadn't planned on putting up any more baby chick photos for a while, lest some of you who are more sheep/donkey/food/cat/whatever fans start to complain. But I changed my mind this morning when I brought Whitey and her little flock their first gourmet meal of the day.

The chicks go into a feathered frenzy every time I show up with food, chirping frantically while scurrying into the screened-in area where their wooden feed trough resides. As usual, I stood in the narrow doorway between the main chicken house and the dining room, bent over at the waist so I could empty the bowl of treats into the trough. I didn't do a head count first.

I heard flap! flap! flap! and felt a soft thunk.

There's a chicken on my back, I thought. Which was immediately followed by And I can't get a picture of it.

The feeling of having something jump onto my back while bent over wasn't completely unfamiliar, as the 4-1/2 pound Doodle Monster often uses me as a landing pad, though she usually swoops down from some higher perch rather than flying up from the ground. (Life with Molly Doodlebug is sort of what I imagine living with a demanding flying squirrel would be like.)

I contemplated the situation for a couple of seconds and then wiggled my back a little. The chick didn't budge. I turned my head around so I could look at it, wondering at the same time how long I could stay in this position and what in the world this chicken was thinking.

After a few more seconds it flapped back onto the ground behind me, then raced toward the treats as soon as I unblocked the doorway.

I didn't mind any of this. It was simply one more thing that comes with being a farmgirl. But I do wish I'd managed to get a picture.

Just tuning in to Whitey Watch? Click here and scroll to the bottom to begin at the beginning.

© FarmgirlFare.com, the always full of surprises foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 8/4/07

Baby's First Dustbath
(Taken June 15th)

Wondering what's with all the chick pics? Click here, then scroll down to the bottom to begin at the beginning of this whole Whitey Watch business.

A year of chicken photos and stories ago:
--7/19/06: Cats Aren't The Only Curious Critters
--7/20/06: A Tree Goes Down & Lindy Goes Missing
--7/21/06: And Sheeeeeeee's SAFE!
--7/28/06: Lindy & Whitey Offer Help To Donkey Doodle Dandy
--8/01/06: Chickens Love Company
--8/13/06: Everybody Gets Tomatoes This Time Of Year

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 8/3/07

Baby's First Perch

This photo of two of Whitey's chicks was taken back on June 18th. The baby on the left is the one in yesterday's photo. Look how much smaller its wings and tail feathers are here, just six days earlier.

When I set up this training perch a few inches off the ground, several of the chicks immediately hopped over and flapped their way up onto it. They obviously loved it, but most of them would sit facing the wrong direction, staring into the corner of the coop. It looked so funny. Then one by one they figured out that if you turned the other way, you could see all the action without having to spin your head around like an owl.

Just tuning in to Whitey Watch? Click here, then scroll down to the bottom to begin back at the beginning.

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 8/2/07

Wall Inspection





Farmgirl Inspection

It's hard to believe that Whitey's not-so-little-anymore chicks will already be two months old on Saturday. It's been so much fun watching them grow up, especially since I've never had a mother hen raise a flock of chicks before.

I've been taking lots of photos, but I seem to have gotten a little behind sharing them (so what else is new?). I've been sorting through them all and figured I'd just randomly post some of my favorites, like these two, which were taken back on June 24th. This is the chick that started out pale yellow. They sure don't stay small and fluffy--or even the same color--for long. Feathers simply appear out of nowhere.

All seven chicks are doing just fine, but a lot of the photos aren't very good. Baby chickens do not like to stand still.

Just tuning in to Whitey Watch? Click here, then scroll down to the bottom to begin back at the beginning.

© FarmgirlFare.com, the rapidly growing foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 7/29/07

Spycat

Welcome new visitors!
Click here for a brief introduction to this site.

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo 7/28/07:A Picture Perfect Walk In The Woods

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.

Farm Photo: 7/17/07

Haying Supervisor

Click here if you'd like to see more photos of Robin, the smiling beagle who loves country life. And click here if you'd like to read how Robin came trotting into my life ten (can it be already?) years ago.

A year of Farm Photos ago:
7/15/06: Something New Is Always Popping Up
7/16/06: Butterfly Bonanza
7/17/06: "I'm Ready To Come Inside Now," Says The Privileged Animal (That would be Cary, who is doing just fine for those of you who've been asking. I'll be posting my new favorite photo of her along with a brief Cary update soon.)
WDB#43: Morning Dog Walk Through The Woods

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 7/14/07

In the hay. Be back soon.

A year of Farm Photos ago:
7/10/06: BB & Tana Are Always Together
7/11/06: Donkey Daycare For Cary Today
7/12/06: Donkey Daycare?!
7/13/06: Looking Up While Tucking In The Sheep
WCB#56: Cary & Doodle Snacking In The Living Room

Welcome new visitors!
Click here for a brief introduction to this site.

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 7/2/07

Holding on for dear life or just hanging out? (click on photo to enlarge)

So it finally rained. A lot. Like three inches in twenty-four hours. Thank goodness.

Welcome new visitors!
Click here for a brief introduction to this site.

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

On Loving Lettuce & Eating Salad for Breakfast

I Never Get Tired Of Looking At Lettuce

Over the years I’ve come to the conclusion that I do not think about salad the same way normal people do. The first step toward this realization occurred one Thanksgiving dinner when I was passed a beautiful wooden salad bowl. Peering inside, I saw a mouthwatering mix of butterhead lettuce, red onion, and avocado tossed with a creamy dressing. There was just one helping left, and as I was about to place it on my plate, I glanced around the table and noticed that only one other person had any salad. The contents of that bowl were supposed to feed seven more people!

Then there was the phone conversation I once had with a long-distance gardening friend. He had called to announce that he and his wife had made an interesting discovery about growing lettuce.

"If you just pull off some of the leaves instead of plucking the entire plant from the ground, the leaves will keep growing back. The way we figure it," he said brightly, "you only need three lettuce plants to feed two people for the entire summer."

I decided not to mention the three heads of lettuce I'd consumed earlier that day for lunch—or the 200 square feet of salad greens in my organic heirloom garden.

A few weeks ago I was harvesting a pile of mesclun to send home with a gardenless friend. "That’s plenty!" she said as I continued to pick.

"That," I politely informed her, "is barely enough for one serving."

And when I set a bowl of salad in front of a houseguest recently, he looked down at it, looked up at me, and said, "Please tell me this is for all of us."

"You don’t have to finish it," I reassured him. But I probably will.

So I’m a little obsessed with salads, which I eat nearly every day of the year. And while pretty much anything green, leafy, and not poisonous is fair game for my salad bowl, lettuce holds a special place in my heart.

For there are certain times when absolutely nothing, not even chocolate, will satisfy my soul and stomach except some freshly picked butter lettuce from the garden. Even if it’s 1:30 in the morning. And we’re in the middle of a thunder/lightning/wind/hail/rainstorm. And my terrified, 50-pound, thunder-phobic dog is trying desperately to climb into my arms as I crouch down harvesting lettuce in the wet darkness with a 98% dead flashlight. But oh, how that salad hit the spot.


European Mesclun Mix From Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds

The lettuce season this year was surprisingly bountiful. Lettuce is an iffy thing to plant for spring in southern Missouri. We usually have at least a few days in the 90s in April--which in itself can be enough to ruin your crop--and it's always a toss up as to whether May will behave itself and stay mild or jump headfirst into summer. This year it behaved, and I harvested gorgeous lettuce every day for weeks.

On June 8th, with temperatures threatening to soar upwards, I grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped what was left in the two 4' x 8' raised beds I'd direct seeded at the end of March, leaving the base of the plants in the ground. It amounted to several pounds. Because I make it a point to plant varieties that are heat tolerant and slow to bolt, despite quite a few days in the upper 80s I was still picking unbitter bounty on June 19th (while crossing my fingers the stuff in the fridge wouldn't rot). Today I enjoyed the last of the spring lettuce. July 1st--I think that may be a record.

My salads will now be lettuceless for the next several months, but if you live in a place where summers are mild (oh, how I envy you!), it's not too late to plant, and growing your own lettuce from seed is easier than you might think. Click here to visit my kitchen garden and learn how.


Fast Farm Food

With such an abundance of wonderful lettuce hanging around, it was only a matter of time before I figured out a way to eat it for breakfast. For the first time in months, I was out of my beloved blueberry bran muffins, and morning found me flailing around the kitchen, half starved, my mind a blank. I'm the kind of girl who needs to know what she's going to have for breakfast when her head hits the pillow the night before.

Incapable of doing anything else, I turned my mind toward thoughts of lunch. Before long I'd convinced myself that freshly laid fried eggs on a bed of lettuce wasn't really all that different from the scrambled eggs with chopped Swiss chard I sometimes whip up. Thinly sliced pieces of homegrown lamb salami crisped up nicely in place of pancetta or proscuitto or bacon and left me a little grease to fry the eggs in. A few chopped scallions, a drizzle of creamy dressing (yes, even foodie farmgirls sometimes buy bottled salad dressing--organic of course), and some freshly grated pecorino romano finished things off.

It wasn't until everything was arranged on my plate that I realized I'd just spent about five minutes making a meal that had not only come mostly from the farm, but was healthy and beautiful as well. I snapped a photo and dove in. I guess I need to run out of bran muffins more often.

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo 6/30/07: Stormy Weather on My Mind

But Not On My Farm

Because of the way our farm is tucked into this little valley, we never get much in the way of sunsets. Most evenings the sun simply dips below the ridgetop without so much as a wave goodbye. Sunrises can be very nice, though, and once in a while at dusk the entire sky will turn some gorgeous shade of pink or orange. On a clear night there are more stars twinkling above than many people have probably ever seen. It wasn't until I'd moved to the middle of nowhere that I finally realized why they call it The Milky Way. Out here it's one big swath of white across the sky.

We may not be on the wide open prairie where the horizon stretches on forever, but we do get some pretty big glimpses of the weather as it heads this way. The spectacular displays will often stop me in my tracks, but it isn't easy watching storm clouds blow right by, knowing they're off to shower water on someone else when we so desperately need it.

You know it's dry when a cat kicks up a cloud of dust as it trots down the driveway. The storm in this photo passed overhead without leaving a drop, but thankfully we've had a little rain lately--enough to at least settle the dust. It's probably due to the fact that despite overcast skies, humidity at 80% or higher, and not a breeze to speak of, I've been dutifully hanging laundry out on the line. This trick has worked before, and it seems to be sort of working now. By the time I hung up the last sock other day, there were raindrops tapping on my big straw hat.

Three days later, I'm afraid to break the spell by bringing all that still-slightly-damp laundry in, especially since there's an awful lot of sunshine outside considering the 60% chance of rain in the forecast. Because we have no neighbors, I don't have to worry about word getting around town that I leave my laundry hanging on the line for days at a time because I'm either lazy or crazy or both. But reputations aside, I may have to give in anyway. I'm just about out of clean socks.

Want to see more?
--Farm Photo 7/6/05: Misty Morning Sunrise
--Farm Photo 7/24/05: Quite A Sunrise
--Farm Photo 8/5/05: At Sunrise, The Possibilities Are Endless
--Farm Photo 8/6/05: A Gorgeous End To A Lovely Day
--Farm Photo 8/15/05: Sunrise On A New Week
--Farm Photo 9/13/05: You Can't Fence Out A Sunrise
--Farm Photo 11/19/05: Good Morning Sun & Goodnight Moon
--Farm Photo 12/31/05: Final Sunrise Of The Year
--Farm Photo 2/8/06: There's Something About A Sunrise
--Farm Photo 4/15/06: I Haven't Shared A Sunrise In A While
--Farm Photo 9/12/06: A Peach Of A Sunrise
--Farm Photo 9/19/05: Morning Moonset
--Farm Photo 1/11/06: I'm Constantly Distracted By The Sky
--Farm Photo 9/5/06: Another Beautifully Distracting Sky
--Farm Photo 9/23/06: Last Night Of Summer Spectacular Show
--Farm Photo 10/24/06: There's That Distracting Sky Again
--Farm Photo 11/9/06: Big Sky

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo 6/25/07: Pretty in Pink

Echinacea by the Cat Cabin

I love echinacea. It flourishes in our crazy climate, blooms for weeks, never needs watering, attracts all sorts of pollinators, spreads like mad, and is pretty much impossible to kill. That's my kind of plant.

Want to learn more about echinacea? Check out this kitchen garden blog post: My Favorite Easy To Grow, No Maintenance, Heat Loving, Drought Tolerant, Long Blooming Flowering Perennial? Echinacea!

Did I mention it's a joy to photograph?
8/23/05: Hardy Echinacea Blooms All Summer Long
6/20/06: Preparing to Burst into Color
7/16/06: Butterfly Bonanza
8/26/06: Butterfly Photos are Better than Nothing
6/28/06: Butterfly Paradise
7/8/06: The Stuff of Life
11/25/06: The Easiest Way to Store Seeds
6/25/07: Echinacea by the Cat Cabin
8/14/07: Echinacea Visitors
7/6/08: Been Busy
7/8/08: Winged Spectacular (one of my favorite photos)

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the perennial foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 6/23/07

Looking For My Strawberries?

There won't be any strawberries in the garden this year. After several years and many pounds of gorgeous, sweet bounty, my original plot finally petered out. And the raised bed I filled two years ago with locally grown Super Strawberry plants from the Garden Club's plant sale is history, too.

I do have 27 new Cavendish strawberry plants flourishing in another 4' x 8' raised bed, but one of the secrets to growing strawberries is that you need to pinch off all the blossoms that appear the first year. This allows the plant to expend more energy on itself rather than on making fruit for you. It's not easy, but in the long run it's worth it. I think.

You might think that there isn't a bright side to having a strawberryless garden, but you would be wrong. No strawberries for me also means no strawberries for all the ravaging, ravenous turtles. It's turtle season in the garden again, and for once I couldn't care less.

*insert evil laugh here*

Wondering if I've completely lost it? You can read more about the ongoing battle for my berries--and local turtles in general--here:
--6/4/05: Strawberries (one of my very first blog posts)
--5/6/06: Spotted In The Backyard
--5/12/06: Damn Turtles!
--5/21/06: The Turtles Didn't Get Them All
--5/27/06: Beaten To My Berries
--6/15/06: At Least The Mulberries Should Be Out Of Turtle Reach
--6/25/06: Weekend Baby Turtle Blogging?

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 6/19/07

Caution: Foodie Forming

A year of Farm Photos ago:
6/19/07: Real Still Life (chickens a year ago too)
WDB#39: Lucky Buddy Bear loves his sheep so much he licks them dry when they get wet

Welcome new visitors!
Click here for a brief introduction to this site.

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo 6/17/07: One Happy Mama Hen

Whitey and one of her baby chicks on June 6th

Mother Goose has nothing on Whitey. She's no spring chicken, but this old girl has taken to her new role like a duck to water. According to my research, Whitey, who is over seven years old, should technically be dead. Instead she's having the time of her life raising seven darling baby chicks.



Whitey with seven chicks showing on June 6th

At two weeks of age, her inquisitive brood has become quite a handful, and they're growing up faster than you can say "Oh my god are they cute!" The last few days they've been taking flying lessons. I've caught a couple of them stretching out their new little wings in a "Hey! Look what I've got!" way.

We've had baby chicks on the farm before, but they arrived by mail without a mother hen in sight, so this is a whole new experience for us, too. My friend was thoughtful enough to bring Whitey a variety of eggs to hatch out, and it looks like we ended up with six different types of chickens, including an adorable little black one.



One day old and keeping close to Mom

There are lots more photos and baby chick tidbits to share. In the meantime, cross your fingers that they don't all turn out to be roosters!

Just tuning in? Catch up here:
Farm Photo: 6/1/07: Whitey Gets Her Wish
Farm Photo 6/3/07: Waiting With Whitey
6/4/07: Peep!Peep!Peep!
Farm Photo 6/4/07: We All Need A Little Shuteye
Farm Photo: 6/5/07: I'm Just Waitin' On A Friend

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the peep peep peeping foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 6/16/07

Heading Out Of The Heat

We're in the middle of a scorching heatwave, also known as summer, and farm cats can be counted on to find the coolest places around. In this case that means under the 100+ year-old half of The Shack. If we had a basement I'd be sleeping in it every night until at least the middle of September.

Heatwave or not, I'm just happy J2 was out and about. Today was the first time I'd seen him leave the cat cabin since his pal New Cat died unexpectedly last week. I was afraid J2 would go off in search of his buddy, but instead he's been staying in the cat cabin so he wouldn't miss New Cat's return.

I miss New Cat something fierce, but my loss is nothing compared to J2's. Those two were the best of friends who spent nearly every waking moment together, then slept curled up side by side each night on their silly pink wool bed. Tell me animals don't have real feelings, and I'll show you a heartbroken cat.

"It's a bad time of year to chuck a kitten in there with him," Joe said the other day when I mentioned how bad I felt for J2. He meant that in the kindest possible way, but sometimes the things that guy says crack me up. He was right, though. Life on a farm is risky enough for a cat, and snake season is especially dangerous if you're an innocent kitten.



J2 is a friendly guy, but because he was so close to New Cat he didn't want much attention from us. Now several times a day he jumps over to his feeding perch in the cat cabin and cries out for affection. This afternoon I was out in the yard hanging laundry on the line and was thrilled to see him heading toward me and loudly meowing hello. I could hear his purr box running on high from several feet away.

As I pet and he purred, I explained to J2 that I understand how lonely he is and assured him that a new feline friend would be bunking with him soon. I have no doubt that another cat in need of a home will find us. They always do.

Farm Photo: 6/14/07

Saying Another Goodbye


The Wild Roses Are In Bloom

"How many cat years are in a human year?" Joe asked me as we lay in bed yesterday morning. He knew I was thinking about Gretel.

"Some people say seven, but there are plenty of cats who live to be at least 20, so some people say five."

"Well even at five years, that would make Gretel, wow, really old."

About an hour later, with a little cry of goodbye, the last of my four transplanted California cats passed away. She was 20 years old. Her death wasn't entirely unexpected, though I didn't think I'd be out in the garden digging another grave less than a week after the sudden loss of New Cat.

Apart from being periodically terrorized by the 4-1/2 pound Doodle Monster during the past decade, I don't think Gretel could have asked for a better cat life.

She spent her last day laying in the shade on the front step, taking in the fresh air and the farm. She waited for me to wake up the next morning and was wrapped in my arms when she took her final breath.

We were gone much of yesterday, and when I opened the front door late last night I caught myself automatically checking Gretel's favorite spots to see where she was, to make sure she was okay. I was surprised her absence hit me so hard. A little while later I realized that I've lived with Gretel longer than I've lived with anyone else in the world--more than half my life.

I'm not sad for Gretel, but a hundred years is a long time to be together. It's no wonder my heart and my home feel so empty. The memories, of course, will live on as long as I do, and for that I will always be grateful.

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photos 6/12/07: Life and Love

Hold life in your hand. . .



And keep it in your heart.

I bet you are overwhelmed with the number of responses to your post about New Cat, my mother wrote to me the other day. I've been in tears several times reading them.

I know there aren't words to accurately describe just how touched I am by the outpouring of comments regarding my tribute to New Cat, so I'm not going to try to find them.

Nearly 100 of you took the time to write. Twice I sat down to individually reply to each comment, but I simply couldn't do it. Yes, I am indeed overwhelmed. Your kindness is truly amazing.

All I can say is this. If you're looking for a smile, or if, as Joe likes to put it, you could use a good eyeball washing, I urge you to make your way through the comments. They are full of thoughtful words, wonderful quotes, beautiful images, and personal stories about cherished feline friends.

There are many reasons I keep this blog. Here is one of them, left by an anonymous reader:

Farmgirl, your beloved cat is surely safe with my beloved daughter who was an animal lover without equal. Today would have been her 28th birthday, and I am so glad I came to your site today to learn of your loss. I came to your site today because it comforts me to read about the small things which turn into the great things that make up our lives.

I know that my girl has your New Cat in her arms right now. Her birthday gift today just might be your New Cat. I continue to take the most tender care of my daughter's 5 horses, 2 goats, 4 cats, and her remaining and much loved dog. I am comforted to know that your cat is safe in her arms. I am sorry that your heart is so sad.

Thank you for sharing your daughter with us, and for the marvelous thought that New Cat went off to be a warm and fluffy birthday gift for her. Thank you, Bridgett, for the smiling idea that "New Cat was a concept bigger than just a cat." Thank you, Jessica.

Thank you all.

Bean said, "May the love you give come back to you 10-fold." And as you can clearly see it already has--and then some.

The top photo is one of Whitey's new chicks (which I'll write more about soon), taken not long after it hatched. A small miracle that popped out from inside an everyday egg. But that's what all of life is, isn't it? An everyday miracle.

© FarmgirlFare.com, the peeping foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Life, Farm Love, Farm Loss

New Cat was huddled in a dark corner of the cat cabin crying. Something was very wrong.

My guess is that he was bitten by a snake. The farm is thick with copperheads, and a bite to a small animal is deadly.

"He's not gonna make it, honey," Joe said softly.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"He had a good run."

"Yes he did."

"He left a place where he obviously wasn't happy and came to live with us. That was what, five years ago?"

New Cat appeared one day out beyond the hayfield, but it was nearly a week before he made his way up to the house, having apparently decided that life here looked pretty good.




He moved into the cat cabin with J2, who had shown up years ago at Windridge Farm in much the same way, and the two quickly became inseparable. I've never known two cats who were better friends.

In the 17 years that Joe has lived on this farm, which is miles from the nearest neighbor, he is the only cat to have simply turned up. New cat.

He wore a gorgeous superfluff suit each winter and shed it for a sleek look in summer. New cat.




He was terrified of Bear and Robin and spent most of his life above dog level. He seldom allowed me to pet him, and I can't remember ever picking him up.

"He may not have been all that friendly," said Joe, "but it sure was nice to look around the farm and see him."

My most recent memory of New Cat is from a week or so ago. It was early evening and he was in the garden, presiding over a large rabbit he had obviously just caught.

My favorite memory of New Cat took place one morning a few years ago. He and J2 were hanging out in the sunshine next to the cat cabin on a little table that Joe had once slapped together from scraps of wood. J2 was grooming himself, and New Cat wanted to play. He kept rolling around on the table, batting at J2 and trying to get his attention, but J2 ignored him. New Cat wouldn't give up, though, and after a couple minutes J2 stopped what he was doing, lifted his two front paws high in the air, and tackled New Cat with a massive hug.

New Cat died very early this morning while I slept fitfully next to him, my hand resting on the side of his curled-up body. I wanted to comfort him. I wanted him to know he wasn't alone. And this cat who rarely liked to be touched would start to cry if I took my hand away.

I buried New Cat in the garden next to Hansel cat and Lindy The Chicken, not far from the spot where he caught that rabbit. In early spring I planted a small clump of spiderwort there, and it has flourished. Today I addded some more.

He was a magnificent creature who was a joy to watch and photograph. He was our New Cat. He left us in his prime, but he had a good run. He is already missed.

More about Whitey and her new brood soon. The circle of farm life always continues.


© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the full on, fur loving foodie farm blog where Farmgirl Susan shares recipes, stories, and photos from her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.

Farm Photo: 6/5/07

I'm Just Wai-tin' On A Friend

Wondering what this is about? Catch up here:
Farm Photo: 6/1/07: Whitey Gets Her Wish
Farm Photo 6/3/07: Waiting With Whitey
6/4/07: Peep!Peep!Peep!
Farm Photo 6/4/07: We All Need A Little Shuteye

© 2007 FarmgirlFare.com, the award-winning blog where Farmgirl Susan shares photos & stories of her crazy country life on 240 remote Missouri acres.