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Showing posts from January, 2012

Punxsutawney Farmer

This week we will celebrate a major holiday in which a local legend predicts the arrival of spring based on an arbitrary standard. Yes, if Husband sees his shadow on February 2, we'll have six more weeks of winter. Wait. That honor belongs to a rodent in Pennsylvania, but February 2 does happen to be Husband's birthday. Check out this slide show. Isn't he the cutest thing? Also, note the pig right out the kitchen window in one photo. I revel in the fact that I married an older man. Husband sometimes jokes that on his fifth birthday, his parents took him to the hospital to pick out his future bride. Sometimes , I pick on Husband in this blog . But I do occasionally let slip how long we've been together and how much he means to me. He comes from a long line of wholesome, clean-living men who are wonderful fathers (and pretty good farmers too). I'm happy every year to grow older with him--although never as old as he is! Happy Birthday, Husband.

Snapshots on the Farm

This is how farm kids have fun on an icy Saturday.

20 Questions only a Farm Wife Would Ask

In my 15 years of farm wifehood (wifery?), I have said things that I never dreamed that I would, things like Why does this lettuce smell like pig semen? In honor of all the farm wives out there, I have compiled a list of 20 real things I have asked Husband over the years. I must confess, some of these are sarcastic, some are rhetorical, some are exclamations but all are true. Why is there pig medicine next to the orange juice? Do you want these nails I just fished out of the dryer? What is that smell? Will you put that semen away before my sister's baby shower? Now that these jeans are ripped in both the crotch and the butt, can I throw them away? What is this stuff smeared on the flashlight? Why can't I ever find a hammer? Do you smell that? Will you get off your John Deere and mow the grass? Will you wash your hands before you stink up the baby's head again? Is that a pig tooth in your eyebrow? Why didn't you pay this much attention to me when I was ab

Ghost of Christmas Past

Earlier tonight we popped our pine out the front door. And while Husband and I crawled around on the floor picking up stray needles, I wrote this blog post in my head. Every year when I get out the Christmas ornaments, I find one I should have thrown away long ago. Sometimes I let it go on the tree, my children unknowingly placing this bad memory on display. I secretly defy the angel to look around and see how great Christmas is for me these days. It's actually a nice-looking ornament, however, it holds a story that I can't seem to let go.  Let's go back in time to the Christmas of 1987 (or maybe 1988)... A middle school girl has a crush on a boy. He's a jock and not really interested in icky girls. She's a huge nerd with a bad perm. She doesn't keep her crush quiet. He is NOT interested--people probably tease him about it. The class holds an ornament exchange and the boy draws the girl's name. She can tell this by his reaction. His mortified react