Outside my Front Door

There's something I must attend to today. I'll write about it tomorrow. Not to leave you hanging without anything to read, I'm going to republish something I wrote on my photoblog in November of 2005. It's a wonderful idea that the whole world lies just outside your front door.

Two seemingly unrelated events happened last Friday. First, our village newsletter was delivered in the mail and secondly a large backhoe was delivered at the edge of the woods across the street from my home.

The newsletter for our tiny village (population 750 including pets and livestock) announced that the Indian Creek drainage project was beginning. There's not much standing or flowing water of any kind in our area, although at one time there was a real Lily Lake. At the beginning of the century there were reported several cases of malaria, so residents drained the lake. I wasn't aware it was possible to drain a naturally occurring lake.

The only flowing water I was aware of would be Ferson Creek which runs north to south about 5,000 yards from my property line.

On Saturday morning the backhoe headed into the forest on its tank-like tracts, and began digging the narrow trench pictured above. It was at this point that I realized it was the drainage project and for 12 years I've been living across from Indian Creek. Well, better known as the "damp spot in the woods which was the silted over Indian Creek". The southwest corner of my property is actually the headwater of Indian Creek...also nothing more than a damp spot filled with cattails on the other side of the drainage pipe. But it's at this point the possibilities become exciting.

My intention is to head out one afternoon and discover whether Indian Creek/damp spots turn to meet up with Ferson Creek running parallel just a short distance away. If that is indeed the case then with shoeleather, canoe, boat and ship I can travel to any shore in the entire world, from my front door.

This is what comes from reading William Least Heat-Moon's, "River Horse". It piques a fascination for the vagueries of water - trickling, flowing, spitting, moving, roaring, joining.... traveling, having it's way, defying most attempts at taming, challenging the adventurous to travel along its sinuous and sometimes dangerous trail.

If tiny Indian Creek joins up with Ferson Creek, it can be followed to where it empties into the Fox River, just above Boy Scout Island. The Fox wends its way south and west to flow into the Illinois river at Ottawa. The Illinois travels to a point above St. Louis where it lends its strength to the mighty Mississippi. It should be enough that the Mississippi leads to the Gulf of Mexico, but from the Mississippi you can take the Ohio and snake your way through other waterways to the Atlantic Ocean, or take the more dangerous ride up the Missouri River to the Pacific Ocean in the tradition of Lewis and Clark.

It's a journey that will be taken only in my imagination, but think of the possibilities - the Amazon River, the San Blas Islands, Iceland and beyond. Outside my front door.

Monday Morning Staff Meeting

Good morning everyone. How was your weekend? I hope it was fun.

Are you hungry? This morning we're going to have toast with buttter and strawberry jam. There's nothing like a good piece of toast. I've got a couple loaves of nice potato bread and a four slice toaster. Help yourself.



Here's my toast story. Five years ago the Farmer and I went to Belize to celebrate our 25th anniversary. We spent two glorious weeks living in a thatched roof casita on the beach of an island that had no roads. I was pretty happy because it meant I didn't have to cook but the food was pretty forgettable.

We arrived home tired and hungry after many hours of travel. I walked into the house, dropped my luggage and marched right into the kitchen and made a piece of toast. It tasted so wonderful.

There's nothing like a nice piece of toast.

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Do remember the sock monkey field trip and giveaway? Steph was the winner of the Rockford Red Heeled socks and sock monkey directions. Guess what? She's made a monkey and he's having adventures on her farm.

His name is Henry. Check out his Monkey Adventures in Alabama.

Steph also tagged me with the Honest Scrap award. It calls for me to tell you ten things about myself that you may not already know.

I have actually played this one before, but I can't find the previous list. Here's ten.

1. At one point in my life I had a top secret government clearance. (That is a source of great amusement to my children.)
2. I've had some hot, hot cars. (1970 Chevelle SS396, 1967 Pontiac Firebird, 1969 Chevy Camaro, 1975 Corvette, Baby Blue Karmann Ghia)
3. I rode a 750cc motorcycle.
4. We have lots and lots of books in our in-home library. (A thousand plus?)
5. I can lay floor tile.
6. I have climbed almost every major Mayan temple in North America.
7. I'm afraid of driving on bridges over water.
8. I'm not a morning person.
9. I have too many collections.
10. I talk too much.

Phew, I feel better.

You know the drill. If you'd like to play, consider yourself tagged.

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I love Cake Wrecks. Some are good wrecks, some are bad. It's fun.

Our local food store has lots of cake wrecks. I saw one this evening. It was a hamburger cake! Sadly I didn't have my camera with me.

OOOPS....she does also feature nice cakes and that's what she's got up today. But check out this wreck:

MELTING CARROTS AND ASSORTED MEAT PRODUCT CAKES.

or, OOEY GOOEY WRECKS.

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I'd like to introduce you to Sarah, who blogs from Hawaii. Her blog is called Aloha Spirit.

I'm sure you're thinking that living in Hawaii is paradise on earth. It's a beautiful location but since Sarah's family is a military family, they're on a budget. I have full sympathy of her situation, having been a military wife myself. Hawaii is a tremendously expensive place to visit or to live. Her and her family are waiting for base housing. In the meantime they're in a hotel. Again, it sounds great but honestly, could you live in a hotel? ........ with kids?

Follow along as she finds interesting and budget conscious things for her kids to do!

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You should also check out the Stick Horse Cowgirls.

I love 'em.

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I'm not crazy about Oprah but I'd bite my tongue and work for her if there's a chance for a free Mediterranean cruise worth $5,400. On second thought, maybe not.

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And now I turn the meeting over to you.

Did you write something interesting yesterday?

What's new in your world?

EDIT - Early in the 1970's I worked for a company that was under government contract to produce technical manuals for Air Force jets. Since we were embroiled in the Vietnam War, all information related to jets and their maintenance was deemed top secret. I was living in Texas at the time and my mom (back in Illinois) was not amused when the FBI came calling asking questions about my background.

Challenge

My challenge to you today - go write something interesting.

It would make your high school English teacher very happy.

A Day at the Lake

The Farmer and I snagged an invitation to a friend's Wisconsin lake house for a day of fun in the sun. Yes, we're that close to Wisconsin. It's just a hop, skip and a jump to the dairy state. For the past hundred years residents of northern Illinois and Chicago have escaped to Wisconsin for the weekend.

I guess my question is, where do the people from Wisconsin escape to? Chicago?

It's just a day getaway with some good neighbors and friends. The kind of stuff that memories are made of.

I remember back in the day when everyone went on picnics. They were all day affairs old quilts for laying in the shade and napping. There were bats and balls and badminton nets. We all gathered at a forest preserve or local lake and the only cost was the gas and the food, prepared at home and brought along in big red picnic baskets.

I hope you have some equally fun plans for this weekend.

See you tomorrow.

Field Trip - Potato Chip Factory

You don't always need to travel long distances to find interesting places to visit. Look around your community and you'll be surprised what you might find.

Today we're going to visit a potato chip factory. It's only about 10 miles from here.

We're here. It's just around the corner.



What's that? You say it looks like a grocery store?

That's because it is a grocery store. The potato chip factory is located just in front of the deli at the local Italian market. It's on the right, just beyond the display of pretzels.



It's a self-contained potato chip making machine called a Jiminy Snack King and it's nothing short of amazing. Right now they're making sweet potato chips. See the sweet potatoes in the box?



They're loaded into that long metal tube and are fed directly into the machine where they're sliced and launched into the hot oil.



There's a paddlewheel contraption that seems to dunk the slices into the oil, or it's used to create the motion to keep them moving through the machine.



It's encased in glass so that you can see the slices approaching from the right, moving around the corner and finally up the ramp.



This thing is kept busy because these chips are selling like crazy. They're a little over $5.00 a bag, which seems a little bit pricey, until you taste them. OMIGOSH. They are tissue paper thin, crisp and fresh. You'll never want a Ruffle again.



The land up in this large bowl. At this point they're sprinkled with sea salt or one of several flavorings



I bought two bags. I shared the plain with sea salt with the family and squirreled the other one away to share with you.

I hid it on the top shelf in the pantry.



Can you read the label?



YES!!! Chocolate marshmallow potato chips!! Have one. They're great.



Just like a crispy little cookie. Simply wonderful.

Check out the Jiminy Website. Look at the machine. Don't you think it would fit in my garage? Heck, we can't get any cars in there anyway. I might as well have a potato chip machine in there.

I could make fresh chips when you come to visit.

Well, that and pie.

NOTE: I would do a grand giveaway featuring a bag of Jiminy Chocolate Marshmallow chips but I've got enough to deal with in my life right now. I don't need to get arrested for trafficking chocolate potato chips across state lines!

Local readers - Jiminy Chips is located inside the Caputo's Italian Market in South Elgin, Illinois.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

My question for you today is this, do you think that respect has gone the way of the dinosaur?

My generation (the baby boomers) were the ones who declared, "Anything goes". I was never along on that ride. In my book anything DOES NOT go and this is something I tried to instill in my children.

Respect your elders. Yes, accord your elders some respect.

Respect your spouse. Oh, this is a big one. I see so many people disrespecting their spouse. They find themselves amazed when the relationship hits the rocks. The Farmer has been an awesome provider and father to his children. You gotta love a man who takes his responsibilities seriously. This earns respect.

Respect others. This is HUGE. I'm appalled at public behavior. We were taught that nice matters and I've learn in life that being nice and respectful of others will make life so much easier.

I can't remember if we were rude as teenagers. Were we? I don't think so because we had that mental loop playing where my mom would call us up short if we were misbehaving. I don't ever remember engaging in the rude behavior I witness on a daily basis. My mother would have slapped us silly.

Respect privacy. Keep some things private. Keep alot of things private. I'm totally creeped out by the habit of laying everything out there. I read a few blogs that left me picking my jaw up off the floor. One woman sliced and diced her in-laws on a daily basis and her husband too! She's making lots of advertising money airing conversations that are best left unsaid. What are her children learning? Everything and everybody are fair game.

I say no.

I say that you can be interesting and funny without disrespecting people.

Years ago there was a neighbor who brought her children into the house late in the afternoon. She'd bathe them and dress them in clean clothes, comb their hair and get them ready for when their father returned home from work. It made an impression on me. I can't say why. It was difficult for her, in her busy day, to take the time to engage in this ritual but I saw it as a sign of respect for the man who was providing for her and her children.

But we're liberated. We can take care of ourselves. We can have big careers. But what does that really mean in our relationship to others? Does respect go out the window?

Again, I say no.

UPDATE: Kitty has added another word to the list.

DISCRETION

I'll add another:

MODESTY

Does a Weblog Count?

My question is this. In the world of personal journaling, does a weblog count? If it does, then I can consider myself a fairly successful journaler. Is that a word? Journal keeper?

Anyway, my grandfather (the one who lived in a one-room schoolhouse) kept a meticulous journal. He would note the weather and a brief synopsis of how the day played out. My sister has the journal in her possession. At first we thought he was being very frugal because he wrote very tiny and recorded multiple years on each page, separating the entries by drawing a horizontal line across the page. After giving it more thought, I've come to the conclusion that it was a conscious decision which allowed him to see the weather conditions of previous years at a glance.

The weather was of a major concern in his journal and his entries were curiously absent of any commentary. There was not a lick of personal reflection. His information was succinct and to the point, no revelations or gossip for grandpa!

Over the years I've told myself, "I should be keeping a journal", at which point I would buy a nicely bound book with blank pages and dive headlong into journaling. Every effort sputtered to an early end. The journal would be tucked in a drawer and forgotten until I got the bug again. There are at least five journals tucked around the house.

I pulled my most successful effort from the bottom drawer of my nightstand and to my surprise it spanned the time from August 2004 to September 2006. Mind you, these were not daily entries but just when the spirit moved me.

I'd even taped items into the journal including a feather I'd found on a walk and a parking pass from a very scary state park. (More about that another time.)

My journal is light years away from my grandfather's in terms of content. I made lists, reviewed public bathrooms and had my say on a number of subjects. Very early in the journal I mention discovering blogs. mygeeklife.typepad.com is noted. I wonder if he's still writing?

Oh no! Here's something.....August 14th, 2004 - I write an entry, "Ozzie's got nothing on me. Singing toilet paper holder, dysfunction junction.

ACKKKKKKK, the singing toilet paper holder!! I'd forgotten about that. The Other Mother buys an incredible amount of junk from Publisher's Clearing House. The Farmer and I were laying in bed trying to get to sleep when I heard something strange.

"Do you hear that?" I asked.

"What?

"I hear some wierd music playing somewhere."

"It's probably a radio," he answers.

"We don't own a radio."

The sound was so annoying I jumped out of bed and scoured the house in search of the bad, bad music.

The Other Mother had purchased a singing toilet paper roll. I am not kidding! The music would start playing when you turned the roll and would continue for a few minutes. It was insanity in a plastic casing. The musical roll would decide to play on it's own without any effort on your part, as in the middle of the night.

The Other Mother would not be deterred. She loved the thing and after all, it was in her bathroom. We tried to drown it in the sink when she wasn't looking. Darn those Chinese made some tough as nails singing toilet paper holders. The choice of music would alternate and it was equally insane. "Love me Tender" is NOT something you want to hear when you're in the bathroom.

In addition to testaments to our personal dysfunction, I include lots of quotes. I love quotes.

"The years thunder buy. The dreams of youth grow dim where they lie caked in dust on the shelves of patience. Before you know it, the tomb is sealed."
- Sterling Hayden, actor, sailor, adventurer and world traveler. (Didn't he commit suicide?)"

Here's another entry:

The process of forgetting is sometimes referred to as "Being consigned to the tomb of the Capulets"

Oh, that's a keeper. I'm going to use that one. The next time the Farmer asks me where I put the socket wrench I'm going to say, "It's in the tomb of the Capulets." Ha! That will send him running for the Encyclopedia Britannica.

So my question is this, does a blog count as a journaling effort? If so, then I guess I've become a fairly faithful journaler.

Lets Sling Some Hash

Not literally, because I don't have any hash to sling. But I am going to show you a little trick I learned from a short-order cook.

You can't help but learn something if you spend as much time as I've spent at road side cafes and hash-slinging spots. You know the kind of places where the cooks work in the open, just behind the counter and stools.

The Farmer loves his eggs over easy, but I was never able to make them without breaking one or both of the yolks. That resulted in a messy looking lump of cooked egg white mixed with cooked and uncooked yolk. Certainly not the presentation that Martha would approve of. At some point I was using the technique of cooking the eggs in tons of bacon grease and splashing the grease over the top of the egg in an attempt to get it perfect.

One time we're in this place south of the Mason-Dixon line, where they turn out platters of hash browns as big your head. The Farmer ordered those hash browns along with two eggs over easy. When the waitress brought our food to the table I saw two perfectly cooked eggs cozying up to the potatoes.

That was it. I realized it was possible to cook a perfect egg over easy, I just wasn't understanding the science behind the task. I asked the waitress if I could speak to the cook.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"Oh no, I'm just looking to obtain the exclusive rights to the egg cooking secret", I answered.

The cook was in a good mood and shared his method.

First you get the pan ready by heating on medium high heat until a drop of water skitters across the pan. You will note that I've pulled out the pan that I use to slowly poison my family. If you haven't cooked bacon first, you're going to need to add a little butter.

Crack the eggs into the pan.



Continue to cook until the whites are done from the bottom.



Now....... here's the secret.

Grab two to three ice cubes and a lid that will provide a tight seal.



Put the ice cubes in the pan and cover quickly.



You'll hear the ice cubes start to melt and they create steam. The steam from the melting ice cubes is what cooks the top of the egg. Continue cooking for 2-3 minutes. At this point you can remove the lid and see if they're cooked to your liking. If not, put the lid back on and cook some more.



You don't need to touch the spatula until you are remove the eggs to the plate.



Now I'm stuck. The Farmer has already gone to work and I don't eat fried eggs. Anybody want to help me out?

Monday Morning Staff Meeting

Good Morning everyone! We're going to have something very special this morning in celebration of...... YOU!



Is it spectacular? It's an edible arrangement. Our daughter sent it to the Farmer for Father's Day and he's graciously agreed to share with all of us.

I've seen these thing advertised and I'd always wondered about them. Let me tell you, the presentation is beautiful, there's lots and lots of fruit including chocolate covered bananas! Pineapple slices are cut to look like flowers with melon ball centers. Simply beautiful and everything is very fresh and delicious. I'm so impressed.

I have no idea what these cost. I'm pretty sure they're not budget priced but if you're looking for something with a WOW factor, this is it. Dig in.

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POWER OF THE PEEPS!

As I said, we are celebrating YOU this morning. Let me explain.

When we learned the Farmer would be losing his job, I made the decision to put my mind to the task of doing some things to use my love of blogging to help my family. One life lesson that was hard for me to grasp was the habit of asking for help when you need it. Why do we hesitate? No one ever asks someone else to carry them on their back, the most we might ask for is for someone to help us take the next step.

And so, I'd like to thank each and everyone of you for the help you have given me (and my family). Thanks to those of you who have made a purchase in my shop and thanks to everyone who told a friend. It has proven to me the Power of the Peeps.

The first Etsy shop I opened was not exactly a smashing success. But honestly I'd didn't put a concerted and serious effort into the project. I gave little thought to design or photography. Nothing is more motivating than having to keep the lights burning. It's not unusual for a new Etsy seller to go three or four months before their first sale. But thanks to the Power of the Peeps I've had 7 sales over this weekend alone.

Thank you.

For those of you who sew, you can make your own apron from a man's dress shirt. Here are my tutorials:

APRON - PART ONE
APRON - PART TWO
HOW TO MAKE BIAS TAPE

Several people have asked - - feel free to snag photos of the aprons for a link button. I'm not too savvy in these regards but I'm going to try to create a link button for your use. Thanks for asking.

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Rue's been wondering when she's going to be made an Official Peep with a spot on my sidebar. OK, Rue. I would have put you there long ago but I couldn't figure out what position you should hold. Rue is so talented in so many areas but when I think of her I think of comfort. She's all about comfort food (all that peanut butter and Jelly), a comfortable home and comfortable relationships. So Rue, you're the Queen of Comfort!

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If you're not leaving comments, you should be! I find some wonderful new blogs by following the link in the comment. Last night I simply could not get to sleep and so I logged on to the computer to do some reading. Someone new had commented, a name I haven't noticed before. I clicked on the link and found the most beautiful place - - RUTA'S RAMBLINGS - NOTES FROM NORTH DEVON.

I'm quite sure that I could live in Devon. Ruta's got some beautiful photos and it's such a pleasure to read about her life out in the English countryside. There are rolling hills, dairy cows and sheep. She drives down narrow roads that have been in use for over 1,000 years! Can you imagine?

Her boys are involved in some type of medieval wars games which remind me of our local Civil War Re-enactors. But the most compelling thing on her blog is her trips to the nearby coastline where she takes awesome videos of the wild and dangerous surf. I found a map of North Devon and it's fun to follow along with the places she mentions - Barnstaple, Braunton, Lynton and more.

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Steph had been patiently waiting for me to birth the cotton dishcloths. They've done been born!



A special thanks to Steph and her husband, who grow the cotton that allows me to crochet those discloths. If you've never seen a cotton field filled with snow white bolls - you've missed something really special.

I come from a long line of cotton growers and cotton pickers. Back in the day my family would pick the old fashioned way, with a long sack dragging behind. Back in the late 1940's my Mom-the-City-Slicker decided she would impress her new brother-in-law by offering to go out an pick cotton with them. Let's just say everyone had a big laugh that day and for years after.

You can check out Steph at THE LIFE OF A FARMER'S WIFE

Ok, now grow some more cotton.

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It's that time again. Time for me to pull a rabbit out of a hat. You know the low-tech drill.



The winner of the PINK-A-DOT WALLET is.



Please contact me so that I can get your wallet in the mail to you.

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That's all from my end. What are you up to? Anything good you'd like to share?

Tomorrow we'll be back to the fun business of blogging!

The Way Back Machine

The time: April 2005
The place: Northern Illinois

Today we traveling just over four years back in time. April 2005 marks the time when I started my photoblog. This is the first photo posted and I believe this property is somehow still standing.

There was an earlier attempt at blogging in which I assumed a fictitious persona known as "Ruby". It was a bit of fun because I could create characters and voice my opinions.

RUBY'S ALL AMERICAN BAR AND GRILL

Yes, that's me all dolled up for the photo shoot, holding one of the chihuahuas. Ruby was fun!

My very first blog was a short-lived project called, Freudian Pink Slip, in which I focused on my journey through depression.

FREUDIAN PINK SLIP

After awhile, it became more and more difficult to post a photo a day on The Farmer's Wife. I think I've photographed every barn and outbuilding in the county. That's not true, but you get the idea.

It was at this point that I decided to move inside and do some cooking, sewing and to take you on some small adventures.

Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Note to reader Marfa: Check out The Farmer's Wife because it contains examples of alot of the photography composition assignments you are currently working on. At that point in time I was doing the same, studying photography and learning some rules of composition.

Reset ... Recharge

Do you ever feel like those creative batteries are drained?

It's really crazy when I feel like I have nothing to say because I always have something to say.

No worries though because today we're going to a pig roast. The food, the friendship and the slow roasted pig will have me up and running again.

In the meantime watch a video from pig roasts of the past. The Farmer snags some pig and thinks that no one notices!!!



Have a great day everyone!

Poke Me with a Fork.........

I'm done!

Well, for today anyway.

Late yesterday I went into labor. I suffered much and pushed hard for five hours and look.....

I gave birth to an Etsy Shop.

Farmer's Wife - At Home

I told the Farmer not to bother me as I was very busy in my very own sweatshop. I only had time to list half the aprons.



I'll be listing more every day. If I push a little harder tomorrow I'll probably be able to birth those old-fashioned cotton dishcloths.



Can I ask you a favor? It's the same as last week. Can you tell a friend? That would be a big help to me.

Look over the shop. Leave a comment. I'll be giving away one of those Pink-A-Dot wallets at the Monday Morning Staff Meeting.


The Pink-a-Dot

Phew. I'm bushed. Now I can get back to blogging and such.

It's so Fanute

I've often said that if producers brought TV cameras in here, they'd had a reality show hit. What's more "real" than putting an 88-year old, two aging Baby Boomers, a nursing student, two Chihuahua's and cat in a house to watch what happens?

Stuff happens. That's what.

There are lots of funny things and not-so-funny things, as is the case with most families I suppose. I hesitate to share some of the stories because at times it seems too much like the "Truman Show".

But the Farmer has said that he loves when I tell these funny little stories about him. We laugh a lot, the Farmer and I, because we've found that if you take life too seriously you're gonna make yourself sick and miserable.

He's so funny and cute, I call it "fanute".

We were sitting on our little patio with the dogs, simply enjoying the fresh air the quiet evening. We were discussing our day and suddenly, out of the blue, he says, "What's that bottle you have upstairs with the sticks poking out of it?"

Hmmmmmmm. OK, my brain doesn't exactly work the way it used to and I'm having a difficult time translating his question into an image. The only thing I can come up with that relates to a bottle with sticks is a reed diffuser. The only problem is, I don't have one!

My feet hurt and I seriously don't want to walk upstairs but his question has gotten the best of me.

I look around and start laughing so hard he can hear me outside.



I bring the item to the patio and he says, "What IS that thing?"

Can you guess?

I bet you can.



"Honey, it's a scrub brush!"

At this point I'll cut him a little slack because this isn't a traditional scrub brush. Heaven knows that his mother scrubs everything that doesn't move, but he was raised with the traditional old-fashioned natural fiber brush.



He never counted on a space age scrub brush.

NOTE: I think I picked this up at Target. It has a small reservoir on the bottom that hold cleaning liquid. Unfortunately, you still have to do the scrubbing!


MORE NOTES: You think I'm kidding about the reality show thing? My neighbor just called to ask my why the Other Mother was walking down the driveway with a Chihuahua and a butcher knife.

UPDATE: OK, first of all, Mary gets 50 points for sending me to the dictionary.
The rest of the story is that one of the pups got out while she was weeding. Yes, she weeds with an old butcher knife. The weeds don't stand a chance! She retrieved the dog and tottered along up the driveway. The concern is that she would fall. What would we tell the rescue squad?

I don't know. I'm off to find out though.

All Hail the Queen

All through the winter, we patiently endure the howling winds and sub-zero temperatures. It's part and parcel of living in Illinois. The change of the seasons is what makes some things incredibly special.

We put our shovels and boots away and anticipate the arrival of the Queen. My apologies to neighbor Betty, who's known in these parts as the "Queen of Everything". She, however, reigns only over the human world. In the natural sphere the Queen is peony "Sarah Bernhardt".

In spring the shoots push their way out of the ground and climb upwards, preparing for her arrival. The first buds have me giddy with excitement. And then one morning the Queen puts on her party dress.



There are layers and layers of pink petticoats, inviting you in closer to examine the details.

No couture has ever been able to consruct a frock so lovely at this.



Her scent is barely discernable, lightly sweet and spicy. Closer still she draws you in.



And then you see the dew drops on the edge of her petticoats.

She's been running in the garden as the sun rises in the east.

All hail the queen!

It's High School All Over Again

My friends and I were talking at lunch today about the groups we hung around with in high school. My group was definitely the geeky/nerdy bunch and there was core group of us that stuck together out of sheer desperation. We figuratively locked arms to protect each other against the onslaught of unkind comments, misunderstandings and downright terror unleashed by the popular kids and the greasers! We were stuck smack dab in the middle.

I'd never been to the "Huddle" for lunch. That's where Anita and her gang hung out and smoked. The popular kids had the latest fashions and we were stuck with hand-me-down chic.

The geeks in my group all grew up to be very happy, well-adjusted and very successful people! Dennis is a producer who works on shows around the world. Go Dennis!

The reason I bring all this up is because I feel like I've been thrust back into that slot I occupied back then. I've heard about companies contacting bloggers requesting a review of their product in return for product to be given away to a lucky reader. Like I said, I've heard about this and I've watched in envy as Chocolatechic reviews such terrific stuff as See's Candy and the latest custom designed cereal!

I've finally been contacted but seriously, what's up with this?

They want me to review a product called "SMELLY WASHER".

I am not kidding!

It's a product that promises to remove mildew smells from washing machines. I don't think I have that problem because my machine get a continuous workout. But perhaps it could help Heidi with her cow poop and mud problem.

Honestly, I think the product could do with a different name. It should be named after the final result.... FRESH WASHER, not "Smelly Washer". Do you agree?

Anyway, I'm going to leave this up to you? The company said they would sent some product to give away to my readers. Should I contact them or not?

Everybody vote....

TRY TO GET THAT "SMELLY WASHER" PRODUCT or.............

DON'T BOTHER.

The future is in your hands.

Monday Morning Staff Meeting

Welcome to the Monday Morning Staff Meeting. I'm sorry there's no food because I was too busy to cook. I was labeling 570 blog posts yesterday afternoon (and evening). I might have some Ritz crackers in the pantry. Just help yourself. Grab the peanut butter while you're at it.

Each week I keep notes on the information I want to cover in the weekly meeting and this week I've got a very long list.

First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for their encouragement and support for my upcoming venture. Thanks also to the entrepreneurial women who share their talents.

Debbie Linkous
Granny Jan's Sock Monkeys
and her sidetrack stuff also
Michelle's Bags
Designs by Marfa

DId I forget anyone? I hope not. Just let me know.

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I know that many of you are not campers (yeah, Chocolatechic, I'm talking about you), but I found a place in Idaho that is calling my name. I'd love to take a road trip out to Huckleberry Tent and Breakfast. No electricity, just a cool tent, separate camp kitchen structure and a big campfire ring. Can you imagine the dark sky nights out there?

Wouldn't it be fun to have a blogging getaway? If Huckleberry Tents don't appeal to you, perhaps we could meet at the Luana Spa in Hawaii.. You can sleep in a yurt in Hawaii. What's not to love about that?

Where would you like to have a get together? Any great spots you'd like to share?

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Just a seasonal reminder to start watching the Iowa Corn Cam. Check in everyday to see the exciting growth progress.

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I want a Chupacabra to keep me company while I'm sewing. What do you think?



Christina makes them, along with other cute stuff.

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There's a fun new fabric called "Dick and Jane", and yes, it has the artwork from our long ago schoolbooks. I'm wracking my brain because I think that Dick and Jane had a baby sister but I can't remember her name. Can you remember?

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OK, that's it for me. I'm fried from yesterday's marathon session labeling my posts. I'm turning the meeting over to you. What's on your mind today?