John Denver - Country Boy? No way

I'd ask what John Denver was smoking when he wrote "Life on the farm is kinda laid back, ain't nothin an old country boy like me can't hack" but I think we all know.  Life on the farm is anything but laid back.  There is always more work to do than hours in a day. A friend of mine who owns a horse farm once told me that she wished for a day when "nothing broke". She actually wished this for her birthday.  I would rather wish for lavish trips to exotic places for my birthday but I can relate to what she wanted.  I would like to wish that I could actually have a day where everything on my "to do" list for the day got done. This never happens.  I wake up everyday full of high hopes and plans for the things I will do that day only to wind up each evening with few things crossed off the list. Sigh.

And now it is coming on "HOLIDAY TIME".  This simply means more work to be done.  Folks are coming here for Thanksgiving expecting a wonderful, heartwarming farm experience holiday (think Hallmark card combined with any made for tv chick flick on LMN).  I will do my best to make that work.  I can only hope no one steps in a cow pile or has to help chase chickens that day.  We will do the usual turkey thing with all the trimmings and hope our dinner rivals a Norman Rockwell painting. At least I got to buy the turkey, frozen, at Walmart and we didn't have to go out and kill one and pluck it. 

But really it will be nice to have the family here.  Well some of them. I mean some of them are coming, not it would be nice to only have some of them here. (they read this blog-I have to be nice)

Of course following the big ol' turkey day is the traditional "Black Friday" where many of the family members are planning on heading out to shop at some ungodly hour like 3:00 AM.  One of them sent me an email today telling me that a certain toy is on sale on Black Friday for $3.  The regular price is $7.  There is no way in hell that I am getting up at 3 AM to save four bucks. They are already getting armed for the big day.  The planning for shopping on Black Friday is no less intense for these folks than what must have gone into planning D Day.  They are already surfing the Internet for any leaks available on things that will be on sale that day.  They are cutting coupons and reading ads.  A plan is being formulated on where to start the attack and at what time.  I picture them stealthily creeping out into a dark and cold early morning armed with coupons, fliers, cell phones to keep in touch and report to each other and copious amounts of coffee for the caffeine jolt.  Of course I will not be awake to see these things. I will be snuggled in my covers sleeping.  I have only gone out once in my life for Black Friday. One year my sister and I arose at 4:30 AM to be at Walmart at 5AM.  We got into the store and everything we wanted was already snatched up.  The lines at the registers stretched back to to the far reaches of the store.  I left with a $5 "vacuum" which was really only a dustbuster on a stick.  We were back home at 6:30 and agreed that we would never try that again.

Well, enjoy your holiday folks.  I have to go visit with Mr. Hainey and Mr. Ziffle now.

Carnivore Cafe

This is the least offensive photo I could find for this subject. I am giving the following warning as well:

WARNING: the subject matter of this blog may be offensive to some individuals (I know it is to me!) If you are with PETA or the SPCA or any other of these do-gooder groups, please do not read the following post. I do not want to be blamed in any way for the destruction of critters. Thank you.


As I have discussed in the past, there are these wild dogs who live in the yard.  They are not "feral" as they belong to the family and were asked to live here, but they are wild none the less.  They roam about freely and have tendencies to bring things home to the farm.  I am always finding strange items in the yard. Many times these things are:  unknown toys from unknown origin; trash of various types; parts to appliances or cars; and most recently half of a jack o lantern left over from Halloween. I have no idea where these things come from. They are just random weird things that show up. I spend days walking around with trash bags picking up this detritus and putting it in the trash.

Unfortunately, these dogs are also hunters and I have am routinely freaked out with the dead things or parts of dead things that manage to find their way here.  It was bad enough when they were killing chickens and leaving the dead carcasses in the yard for me to find and dispose of but now that we have managed to lock up the chickens they have taken to killing all sorts of other wildlife.  I assume they are very proud of their kills as they bring them to the house and leave them for us to see.  Sometimes the dead things are just left in the yard for me to inadvertently find.  This always freaks me out.  I am walking around picking up trash and suddenly there is a dead thing or its parts lying there. AAAIIIIEEEEEE!!! Nooooooo! I don't want to see this!!  Ugh.  So far I have found:  1) a dead mole (ok not too bad they are small),  2) a deer leg (?) can't figure that out-maybe was a road kill that they dragged the leg off, 3) a squirrel's head - just the head-oh yuck yuck yuck and 4) a whole dead possum AAAIIIEEEE!!!
I REFUSE to remove these carcasses. I will not pick them up even with elbow length rubber gloves. NO WAY!  The possum was really gross.  It was lying in the front yard. Dead with its little legs all stiff and everything. OH GOD! UGH! I hoped that overnight something would come and drag it off. Unfortunately the wild dogs must have decided that I deserved the possum somehow and they left it for me to find the next morning right by my car.  AAARRRRRGGGGHHH!  I had to step over it to get to my car! EWWWW!  I did notice that they had dragged an empty feed bag into the yard so I used it to cover up the possum. Sort of CSI-like when they put a sheet over the body.  At least I wouldn't have to look at the possum.  I wondered if his possum buddies were looking for him. I hoped maybe they would get him and give him a decent burial.  But maybe I shouldn't have covered him up. Maybe they would not come get him if they thought they might tamper with a crime scene.  I imagined a chalk outline of the little possum body. Ugh. 

I left to run errands praying that when I returned the possum would be gone.  I was happy to note that when I pulled into the driveway the feed bag was gone and there was no dead possum lying where it had been. I was beginning to feel that it was safe to get out the car so I did only to encounter the dead possum lying near the foot of the steps to the house.  AAAIIIIEEEE!!!! NOOOOO!  This is getting to be too much but I still won't pick that thing up. Well, maybe if I get the snow shovel and scoop it up. But then what do I do with it? If I just put it in the woods the wild dogs will probably just bring it back out.  Crap. Do I have to bury it? This is a lot of work. Where are the buzzards when you need them?

Once again, life on the farm not at all as idyllic as it is often portrayed as.  Give me strength.

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