The Front Porch Swing

[Beekissed]

Quote:

I'm proud of you too, Blooie!

 

[Blooie]

Welcome, Miss Jellybean! I'd have said something earlier but things go by so quickly on the porch that while I was telling my poop collecting story three pages of posts went by! We are glad to have you.....but there is a major no -no here. Never, but NEVER pick up a straw you see and use it to sip your lemonade, tea or soda. You just never know where that straw has been!

Lindz, I'm sorry you are still sick. It's way more important to us that you get better than sit out here in the spring breezes and maybe getting the vapors. (Yeah, right....the lovely, soft, 60 MPH sideways snow containing spring breezes!)

 

[lovingmyhens]

Well, the way I look at disruptions in a thread is that I'm guilty of the same thing, so I won't say a word. It's all about self-control, and I usually have none....a love of words and little self-control is not a good combination! Lesson learned here - and I'll probably make the same mistake a few times, unfortunately. I'll try harder, I promise.

Leslie, I know what you mean about people having trouble writing what they are thinking because I have the same issue, only with speaking. I know what I want to say in my head, but the words either don't come out the way I meant them to or I get nervous and a little bit of the stuttering sneaks back in. But my chickens don't mind as long as I feed them, water them, and sneak them treats.

Ken grew up on a 1000 acre ranch near Pinedale, Wy. with 6 sisters and two brothers. I got to "play" at ranch chores a little bit when I'd go back to visit. But I never did outlive the title "dude", even though it was never said in a mean, cutting way - always in good fun, and I gave as good as I got. I loved to help with the lambing and calving! My official job was the ooher-ahher. You know, see the little lamb or calf wobble to his feet and say, "Ohhh!" and "Ahh!", and "Oh, how CUTE!" That was about all they trusted me with but I was really, really good at it.

Early one spring I went out to see what I could help with (translation: how much I could get in the way) and they were cleaning out the corrals. All but two of Ken's siblings were out there working - the two little ones were in with Mom. What a smelly, slimy, muddy mess it was out there! Ken's dad had some doohicky attached to the front of his little tractor, scraping the corral down to bare ground and pushing it all up against the side wall of the loafing shed. Everyone had wheelbarrows and shovels, and they were scooping it away from where he'd pushed it and moving it through a gate into yet another corral - the empty, dry one - so he could load it into the manure spreader later and pull it out to the fields with the big tractor - I guess. I don't understand these technical processes. Seemed like a stupid way to do it - push it into a line against the shed so it could be shoveled away from the shed and put into a big pile in another place. I thought it would be so much more efficient to use the tractor thingy and load the spreader to start with, but what did I know? So I made the mistake of asking why he was doing it that way when he could just scoop it up and load the machine.

Very patiently he explained that the drier corral where it was being dumped by the wheelbarrow load was dry because he alternated corrals every winter. That way when he took the big tractor and manure spreader in for loading, he didn't have to worry about getting stuck in the slime.

Anyway, there I was in my stiff new jeans and my amazing mother-in-law's sweatshirt, windbreaker and boots, nodding my head wisely like I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Need some help?" I offered.

I swear the gleam in Dad's eye was as bright as a new penny. He saw another opportunity to get me, and he wasn't about to let one this rich get past him. "Sure, grab the shovel and 'barrow from Liz so she can take a break."

I watched what the others were doing. Boy, they were sure being lazy. A few scoops of muck into the wheelbarrow and off they went through the gate into the other corral. I could do better than that, and I was just a city kid. I took Liz's poop mover equipment and got busy. I filled that wheelbarrow, and I filled it good. It was heaped high in the middle and I was getting twice as much as the other kids were. Then I propped my shovel up against the shed and prepared to join the parade. I grabbed both handles of that wheelbarrow, lifted it up, pushed......and the only thing that moved was my head and my hands. My feet had no traction in that mess, the load was so wet and heavy that it wasn't budging, but my hands slid down the handles toward the neatly domed pile I had created and in I went, face first. The first row plowed with that rich fertilizer wasn't made with a plow - it was made with my chin.

I came up spitting and sputtering and I knew every one was rolling with laughter. So I wiped my chin on Mom's windbreaker, which did nothing more than smear it worse, wiped my hands on my new jeans, and lightened my wheelbarrow load considerably. Dad ordered everyone back to work, and we went on through the rest of the morning as if nothing had happened. I did something stupid, I paid the price, and as far as the family was concerned it was over and done. Until dinner that night. But I think we just won't go there at the moment.

So understand, then, how proud I was of myself when today I put on my chicken coop shoes, my flannel lined jeans and my fluffy flannel shirt, my denim jacket, and I went out in the snow for the first time to "do my chores." Look at me, Dad! I'm a chore doer! Why, if I could have found an old floppy hat and a straw to stick in my mouth I'd have looked almost like a real farmer! But then again, I've suddenly become a little leery of straws in the mouth!

Oh Boolie!! That one had me hooting before you even face planted!! My kids just look at me weird.

 

[Ms Jellybean]

Well, the way I look at disruptions in a thread is that I'm guilty of the same thing, so I won't say a word. It's all about self-control, and I usually have none....a love of words and little self-control is not a good combination! Lesson learned here - and I'll probably make the same mistake a few times, unfortunately. I'll try harder, I promise.

Leslie, I know what you mean about people having trouble writing what they are thinking because I have the same issue, only with speaking. I know what I want to say in my head, but the words either don't come out the way I meant them to or I get nervous and a little bit of the stuttering sneaks back in. But my chickens don't mind as long as I feed them, water them, and sneak them treats.

Ken grew up on a 1000 acre ranch near Pinedale, Wy. with 6 sisters and two brothers. I got to "play" at ranch chores a little bit when I'd go back to visit. But I never did outlive the title "dude", even though it was never said in a mean, cutting way - always in good fun, and I gave as good as I got. I loved to help with the lambing and calving! My official job was the ooher-ahher. You know, see the little lamb or calf wobble to his feet and say, "Ohhh!" and "Ahh!", and "Oh, how CUTE!" That was about all they trusted me with but I was really, really good at it.

Early one spring I went out to see what I could help with (translation: how much I could get in the way) and they were cleaning out the corrals. All but two of Ken's siblings were out there working - the two little ones were in with Mom. What a smelly, slimy, muddy mess it was out there! Ken's dad had some doohicky attached to the front of his little tractor, scraping the corral down to bare ground and pushing it all up against the side wall of the loafing shed. Everyone had wheelbarrows and shovels, and they were scooping it away from where he'd pushed it and moving it through a gate into yet another corral - the empty, dry one - so he could load it into the manure spreader later and pull it out to the fields with the big tractor - I guess. I don't understand these technical processes. Seemed like a stupid way to do it - push it into a line against the shed so it could be shoveled away from the shed and put into a big pile in another place. I thought it would be so much more efficient to use the tractor thingy and load the spreader to start with, but what did I know? So I made the mistake of asking why he was doing it that way when he could just scoop it up and load the machine.

Very patiently he explained that the drier corral where it was being dumped by the wheelbarrow load was dry because he alternated corrals every winter. That way when he took the big tractor and manure spreader in for loading, he didn't have to worry about getting stuck in the slime.

Anyway, there I was in my stiff new jeans and my amazing mother-in-law's sweatshirt, windbreaker and boots, nodding my head wisely like I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Need some help?" I offered.

I swear the gleam in Dad's eye was as bright as a new penny. He saw another opportunity to get me, and he wasn't about to let one this rich get past him. "Sure, grab the shovel and 'barrow from Liz so she can take a break."

I watched what the others were doing. Boy, they were sure being lazy. A few scoops of muck into the wheelbarrow and off they went through the gate into the other corral. I could do better than that, and I was just a city kid. I took Liz's poop mover equipment and got busy. I filled that wheelbarrow, and I filled it good. It was heaped high in the middle and I was getting twice as much as the other kids were. Then I propped my shovel up against the shed and prepared to join the parade. I grabbed both handles of that wheelbarrow, lifted it up, pushed......and the only thing that moved was my head and my hands. My feet had no traction in that mess, the load was so wet and heavy that it wasn't budging, but my hands slid down the handles toward the neatly domed pile I had created and in I went, face first. The first row plowed with that rich fertilizer wasn't made with a plow - it was made with my chin.

I came up spitting and sputtering and I knew every one was rolling with laughter. So I wiped my chin on Mom's windbreaker, which did nothing more than smear it worse, wiped my hands on my new jeans, and lightened my wheelbarrow load considerably. Dad ordered everyone back to work, and we went on through the rest of the morning as if nothing had happened. I did something stupid, I paid the price, and as far as the family was concerned it was over and done. Until dinner that night. But I think we just won't go there at the moment.

So understand, then, how proud I was of myself when today I put on my chicken coop shoes, my flannel lined jeans and my fluffy flannel shirt, my denim jacket, and I went out in the snow for the first time to "do my chores." Look at me, Dad! I'm a chore doer! Why, if I could have found an old floppy hat and a straw to stick in my mouth I'd have looked almost like a real farmer! But then again, I've suddenly become a little leery of straws in the mouth!

You are a busy woman!

What a neat thing that you can work from home and engage in your love of cycling...I wish I was that fit and had a place to cycle as I would love to take Jake bikejoring. Have you ever done that?

Can you grab a pic of your door that needs fixing and a close up of the problem? If not, and it's just the facing panel, can you glue on that part with Liquid Nails?

I'd love to take my dog with me on a short ride. She loves to run. Problem is she runs her paws bloody. My son used to take her for short trips down the block and even through an empty field near us and she would come home with raw feet every time. I finally said no more.
I usually ride alone. I like to ride 40+ miles at a time. My longest ride to date is 77 miles (last summer). I want to ride in the Hotter N Hell 100 in Wichita Falls some year. Hopefully this year. It's in August. 100 miles in 100* heat. People come from all over the world to ride it.

I'll get a photo tomorrow when the lighting is better for photos. I'm liking the liquid nails idea. Bob the Builder I am not!

Welcome, Miss Jellybean! I'd have said something earlier but things go by so quickly on the porch that while I was telling my poop collecting story three pages of posts went by! We are glad to have you.....but there is a major no -no here. Never, but NEVER pick up a straw you see and use it to sip your lemonade, tea or soda. You just never know where that straw has been!

Lindz, I'm sorry you are still sick. It's way more important to us that you get better than sit out here in the spring breezes and maybe getting the vapors. (Yeah, right....the lovely, soft, 60 MPH sideways snow containing spring breezes!)

That storm is heading my mom's way. Soooo glad I don't live in MN anymore.

Note to self: no straws

 

[Beekissed]

Welcome, Miss Jellybean! I'd have said something earlier but things go by so quickly on the porch that while I was telling my poop collecting story three pages of posts went by! We are glad to have you.....but there is a major no -no here. Never, but NEVER pick up a straw you see and use it to sip your lemonade, tea or soda. You just never know where that straw has been!

Lindz, I'm sorry you are still sick. It's way more important to us that you get better than sit out here in the spring breezes and maybe getting the vapors. (Yeah, right....the lovely, soft, 60 MPH sideways snow containing spring breezes!)

 

[Ms Jellybean]

Hey everyone. Please keep the people affected by the shooting at Ft. Hood in your prayers.

Thanks

 

[BCMaraniac]

Hey everyone. Please keep the people affected by the shooting at Ft. Hood in your prayers.

Thanks

Absolutely....another tragedy.

A member of our community was killed by Hassan at Fort Hood in November 2009.

 

[PrairieChicks]

Lindz, I hope the rest of this week goes better for you. I'm praying God will give you His strength for each day. And a Good sleep tonight!

Blooie, I love your chicken coop. What a lot of work you've done. I agree with some of the others - a coop is never done. There are always "improvements" that seem like a good idea . And of course, learning from others' experiences always makes life easier. It's a good thing I wasn't around when you had your little face to face meeting with the manure in the wheelbarrow. I would have felt bad for you, but I just can't help myself. When I see something like that I can't help laughing.

Welcome, ms Jellybean! Lucky you to be planting your garden already! You must have some plants blooming already there too. I love the picture of the flowers posted earlier! Any signs of spring or growth I can see now is a big encouragement! If it's warm where some of you are, eventually it will get warm here too! We did get above freezing for a couple hours this afternoon - Yeah! Still lots of snow to melt before anything thinks of growing! I did see 2 geese today - they were walking across our country road as I was coming home. As I slowed down, they took off and flew above the large frozen slough beside the road. I wished I could see them land on the ice, but the bushes got in the way. Thought it might be funny

. One spring I watched a goose come in for landing on a frozen pond. It must have been confused, because it came in for a regular landing and slid on its butt a long ways across the ice. I guess I shouldn't laugh, but I couldn't help it.

 

[PrairieChicks]

Hey everyone. Please keep the people affected by the shooting at Ft. Hood in your prayers.

Thanks

Will do.

 

[lovingmyhens]

I've got an interesting question:
Does anyone know where or how I would find pen pals for imates?
My friend that is in prison has a cellmate, who is a christian, that has no one write or visit. He sees my friend getting letters and visits every weekend, either from me or his parents. He asked my friend whose name is Stephen, if I could find out about pen pals for prison inmates. My heart goes out to him, and I'd volunteer, but I am a terrible writer. It is everything I can do to keep corresponding with Stephen! I'll write at least once a week, but if I am going to visit him then I don't cause we have 2 hours and I don't want to tell all the news in the letter.
So, does anyone know how I would go about finding a pen pal for this guy?
I'm just stumped.
Maybe this weekend I'll share a story about my friend, Stephen, and I...

4 dead in Ft Hood, including the shooter.
Prayers for all who are hurting and ill tonight.
Sleep well, my friends