Climb the fence. Books and pens.

Fall is here.

A new season, and another page turned.

As Hurricane Sandy swept in with heavy rains and strong winds I feel it has taken with her the last bit of summer remaining.

and I am thankful.

With the birth of our daughter in the middle of Spring came the new beginning we had eagerly anticipated. But as the summer came on hot, heavy, stagnant, so did life.

It was hard.

Our daughter did not have it easy.
Two hour stints of sleeping. For months.
She was starving for the first three weeks of life, steadily losing weight. But the pressure of nursing your baby was so immense on so many levels and from so many people, that the guilt set in beyond words can describe.
I was in regular , burning pain, worse than labor, for three months.
I lived on the couch with my daughter on my chest for two months straight.
I did not move until David got home.
David worked longs days.
I was away from the people who believe in me most- my family.
As a new mother I heard nothing but advice on how to "fix my days."
I couldn't have a good cry without someone screaming the words hormonal.
I couldn't say that it was a rough day with out being diagnosed.
Farm life was hell.
My chicks were killed. Slowly and steadily. (this may seem like nothing to most but these were hatched from my favorite hen. They were born soon after Rev was. They were the little light on the dark days to watch with my daughter.)
Hens were killed by a hawk.
More chicks died.
Hens got sick.
Thought we had to cull the flock.
Bee's swarmed.
Hives failed.
The life on the farm that seemed so promising seemed to be diminished in a passing night.
Opposition from came from all places that I never thought it would come from, and that was the hardest.
I missed my family.
I was pressured in "how to be."
Pressured into "holding it together."
Pressured into "getting out."
Pressured into "being normal."
Pressured into what felt like everything.

It was really hard. And I do not expect anyone to understand.

But something is changing.
Slowly like the season creeping in
And now fiercely like the hurricane that made in way thru.

I woke up feeling refreshed today. Somewhat new, again. A realization has occurred. That in the popularity contest that is life I don't really care who I win with, as long as I always get most popular with my daughter.  The "things," that seemed so important even a year ago are now so trivial.  I wasted much time crying and being sad in the first months of my daughters life from these things that are now so trivial. I wish I could take that all back. I wish that it wasn't classified as being a hormonal girl. I wish people could see that it was a hard summer, on top of bringing a life into this world.  There was ALOT of stress. I didn't have a chance to relax into Mother hood. I wasn't allowed to relax. No one seemed to understand that I was a new Mom, and I had no idea what I was doing.  Let me be new. Let me figure out this whole new life. Let me be.

Now this isn't to take away from anyone suffering. I realize that what was hard for me would be a breeze to others, and I want to acknowledge that.  My bravery and courage would be minute in comparison to some I know suffering harder....this entry is to just be what I said I would be- honest and open. Personal to me. Available for you to read. That is all.

So like the Hurricane that ripped the summer leaves from the branches of strong standing trees last night, so has the heavy summer weight been ripped from my shoulders.

As the trees realize the need to dig their roots down, reach for the sun, and bloom in glory each new year, so have I realized to do the same.

I do not want to be one of those weak trees struggling amoungst the others in the forest reaching for a bit of sun. I do not want to be poorly set in soil.  I do not want to fall with the slightest bit of breeze.

I want to be the strong oak we have in our yard- our farm logo- that stands tall and firm in its place.  In movable by any opposition. Confident in its stance.

Quality not quantity.

Don't let me be a tree that drowns in the forest of other trees all trying to be the greatest.

Let me stand alone.

Let me be these things for our daughter to see.
Let her know that she is a gift given by God to us.
Let her know that she can stand tall and proud.
Let her know she does not need to be in a forest of others in order to fit in.
Let her be her.

As a Mom now, and really for the first time, realizing whats important its definitely the motto quality not quantity that sums it up.

The quality I see is in my family. My Mom, my StepMom, my Mother in law, and all their amazing advice, and love, compassion, and understanding. Their inability to judge.
The quality I see is in my husband for his hard work, his care and tenderness, his words full of love, his strongness.
The quality I see is the gift given to us by God. This little bundle of beauty, who is intelligent, healthy, vigorous and vocal. Who eyes and smile look so much like the person I fell head over heels for. That smile passed on has made me fall head over heels again.

The quality I feel is from God.
His unshakable love for even your darkest of hours. His bright light he keeps shining for you to seek when it is dark. He is the warmth of the fire on a cold day. "There to ignite your bones, and carry you home."

This entry I again say, is simply to state the feelings I have. They are mine to have, and share. That is all. I now know that its ok to have these feelings. Its ok to express them. Its ok not to hide behind them. And its ok to share them to others who might get something good out of them.

I welcome fall with open arms.

 I welcome the cold wind, and its cleansing of the stillness of summer.

 I welcome the warmth that is in our home<3

Oh Shit.

http://www.weather.com/news/weather-hurricanes/hurricane-sandy-winter-storm-20121025

The latest forecast...


Last Wednesday David came home from work to see me and Rev sitting n the front steps watching the tractors go by and the old Farmall mow the field across the street. (get the visual) (yes this really happened) (yes me ad Rev watch the Pop Pop tractors go by on a very regular basis).

He came home in a bunch of excitement.

We might be getting the storm of the century!  ....and he went on to explain what this Frankenstorm could potentially be.

Horror across my face.

Whats wrong? Aren't you excited?!

My answer was this:

"I am from New England! This could be bad! We gotta cut down trees, get gas, generator, water, butter,  and move all the important stuff to the safest place in the house NOW!  What about the chickens?!?!?!?  The bee's?!  They need to all be on the porch if this "thing," hits!!!"

Poor David I think I took all the excitement out of him:/

My New England stock gets the best of me even in a bad lightning storm so a storm of the century pretty much means this to me:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WhQySxqSANU


So as we have watched this storm brew for the past week it looks like its going to hit us pretty bad. Things could still change and for all we know it could be a bit gusty with a few rain drops here and there. But until we know for sure this Mass chick and her (you would think he is from Mass) Irish husband have gotten prepared. In a big way. Had a friend who cuts trees come and check out the ones of concern. Checked the coop for any that might be threateneing. Took apart the hives and condensed them to as little as possible- with the potential of moving them to the side of our house (who wants to clean up beehives blown over by a storm?) Got a crap ton of water. Generator in check. Baking cookies tonight. Firewood stocked.


Hoping everyone well wishes to be safe in the storm.

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet yaddayaddayadda

Or would it?

I studied Billy Shakes for six long years.
And on this line I would have to disagree.

You see he is having Juliet tell Romeo that a rose if it were called a FJ Cruiser would still smell as sweet. It would still be the same thing, the same flower, the same scent.

But I disagree.

There are alot of people in this world.

Some smell good.
Other stink wicked bad.
But they are all people.

But its the ones that you know are real people.
The ones who, you can look at and know they don't stink.
That any other name for them would probably be better for them, more deserving.
because they aren't a typical person.
They are special.
They are sweet.
Real.
Unordinary.
And true.


This little story is for a friend I have never met.  I still have high hopes of meeting her one day, and hopefully soon.  But until then I want her to know just how special she is. And that she deserves to be called something other than just friend. Cause she is something special:) She don't stink:)


I bought a rose plant at the end of the summer.
It was on sale for three dollars at Walmart.

I always wanted to have a rose plant, as my Grandfather had them all over his yard.  They were bold red and the ants just loved climbing on them in the mid summer heat.

the roses never seemed to mind.

I admired that about them

Ants bother me much.

So I bought this on sale rose plant. Its leaves were burnt from the sun. It was mostly stick, and thorn, and it was sitting all lonely amoungst the other bold early fall plants boasting of their potential.
Something about it was special though.

So I took it home and carefully planted it next to the chimney of our house.  It gave out a meek small, but oh so beautiful flower as soon as it was planted and I knew right then and there that if this rose decided to give its all..... That it was really going to be something.

Over the months the blooms fell off and the rose plant seemed to just be in limbo. No more blooms. Just still.

But something special was taking place beneath the ground.

Deep in the soil the rose plants roots were burrowing down. Deeper and stronger it grew underground. I couldn't actually see this event happening but knew it had occured the morning I awoke to find, that the rose plant had grown immensly overnight. Its roots doing their job, to form a solid base for what this rose was to become.  The roots knew the rose plant could grow, big, strong, and courageously.


It seemed to happen in a second.
This new growth.
This boldness.
Shooting up towards the sky and reaching evermore.
But it was leaning.
It needed support.
I gave it a wire fence to "climb," onto, which it seemed to appreciate.

Its main shoot had stregthn and courage to prove its worth, value, and importance.
Its wire fence being its "rock to lean on when it gets tired." The roses' somewhat quiet support. Unmoving, ready, waiting. Willing to help it when it needs to lean.

I admired this rose plant very much.  I look at it each morning eager to see if a flower has appeared.
It hasn't flowered yet, but each morning it reaches higher and higher towards the sky.

The rose hasn't blossomed fully yet. Not yet. But I know it can and I know it will.

I know that in the Spring when growth is abounding, and life is bursting forth, this rose is going to shine thru them all.
I know it will because of the roots it grew in the right place, and because when it gets too tired, it will always have something to support it. And the rose plant knows this as well.

So, to my friend I haven't met yet, I write this to you.  This rose plant that I see every morning reminds me of you, your story.
It gives me the reminder to burrow my roots down deep into the good soil, and if I do so, I too just might bloom.

Thank you for the inspiration you are.


 ^"Everyone who comes to me and hears my words and does them, I will show you what he is like:  he is like a man building a house, who dug deep and laid the foundation on the rock. And when a flood arose, the stream broke against that house and could not shake it, because it had been well built"

.....Indie is sooooo ....Indie.

I hid a bone in the well,Don't ask me, I'll never tellI looked to you as it fell,And now you're in my way
I'd trade my food for a wish,Kibbles and bits for a kissI wasn't licking particularly this,But now you're in my way
Your stare was holdin',Ripped toys, teeth was showin'Barkin night, wind was blowin'Where you think you're going, Harlem?
Hey, I just boxed you,And this is crazy,But here's my chew toys,So chase me, maybe?
It's hard to look right,At you Harlem,But here's my chew toys,So chase me, maybe?

Hildago laying down and Mr. Bohanan standing.  Their lady friends accompany.

Where Da food AT?

The chicks know that when I come up the cellar stairs (or basement for my Southern friends) that they gonna be fed.

Its cute to have the greeting crew.

Bee's getting it on.

Its exactly as the title states.


















you lil perv you;)

A Town House.

Its time for the chicks to get introduced to the ladies downtown!

For the time being they have been living in a secured dog crate aside of the house with total range of the yard (and porch) during the day.  But as they get older, they need to eventually live with the rest of the gals (esp the roosters!) So this past weekend David built a small brooding pen aside of the chickens yard.

Couple awesome things about this.

1.  It will get the other chickens used to these newbies and the newbies used to the flock.

2.  It will be used as a seperate breeding area this Spring, for the next batch of chicks!  This will also help us to know exactly what breed we will be getting (even though the surprise is wicked fun)

3.  Any hen that goes broody next will have a safe quiet yard to raise her chicks!!!

Really excited about this.