Blooming

Spring jumped out of nowhere and came on full force this past week. It smells heavenly on the farm; the lilacs and cherry blossoms are in full bloom. The tulips are up. My bleeding hearts and lilies of the valley all have flowers on them.

Expectant mothers are around every corner. The birds have built their nests and are sitting on their eggs. The geese at the pond have an egg they are eagerly waiting to see hatch. Baby bunnies and baby mice have been seen scampering around.

Even the young snakes have been seen.

Yep, spring is here...now I'd just wish the weather would realize it! I have another frost alert tonight, so I'm covering plants and wearing a sweater!

But I'm trying to appreciate this cooler weather because before too long its going to be hot and I'll be longing for the cool temps of April.

Beauty

I've decided I want to showcase how wonderful my sister is with words.  She paints a picture with her words.  And when I ran across another one of her poems I had to post it. I can't help but be proud of her!

 

Her inspiration for Beauty was a single pink rose.

 

 

Beauty

Pretty is a small word

Describing how I look.

It’s something like a photo

A picture in a book.

There’s so much more to me

Than what the eyes perceive.

It’s not about my face,

But more what I believe.

So when the wind begins to whip

And the freeze comes with the rain

When the temperatures all drop

And cold sings its refrain

You’ll find me standing tall

An inner strength will show.

I don’t easily wilt

I will always grow.

 

By: Casey Barnett

 

 

A Misty Road

A Misty Road

 

My stride pounded the road,

Never breaking pace.

Tiny clouds of dust I never saw

Created patterns of intricate lace.

The flora and the fauna

I know were in my sight,

But I hardly notice them

Along my daily flight.

Then one day the trees

Screamed from up above,

“Don’t forget to say hello

As you walk along our cove.

We strive each day to keep you

Safe from sun and rain.

We always give you music,

A rustling refrain.

Please don’t forget to say hello,

We love to hear your voice,

And don’t forget to smell the roses,

And each and every day rejoice.”

Now many think I didn’t

Hear the trees that day,

But they’ve forgotten what it’s like

To watch the flowers play.

Dancing along the wind,

Resting on the breeze,

As the mist weaves through the leaves

Of those wise old trees.

I’ll not forget the lesson learned

Along that familiar road.

The fog had cleared and I can see

More of my own abode.

 

-Casey M. Barnett
 

 

 

This poem is written by my sister from a photo that I took one misty morning driving to work in Kentucky.  (I tried to upload the photo but the computer and I are having a disagreement.  I will upload once we have worked it out.)

Happy Easter

Flowers in March

Daffodils aren't the only flower popping up around here. These purple beauties also come in a white variety and both are springing up everywhere here on the farm. They are a gentle reminder that spring is on its way, no matter how many times it snows!

Blackberries & Snakes - Every Girls Dream Morning

Saturday morning after my chores were done I decided to head to the pasture and pick some wild blackberries.  I have plans for those blackberries and, by golly, the birds aren't going to get all of them before I can get my fair share.

So me and the dogs got to picking before it got too hot.  And yes the dogs picked blackberries, unfortuanelty they didn't put them into my bucket but kept them for themselves. Selfish little beasts. :)  At one point there was a row of dogs next to me with their heads buried into the bushes.

Thank goodness they could only reach 2 feet off the ground!

Puppies still picking blackberries, whereas, the dogs are headed to the other side for fresh berries.



Scooby Snack

  

 At one point while I was picking I got a strong sent of cucumbers.  My cucumber vine was 100 yards away and it is barely surviving, so it wasn't my plant making this scent.  I had heard an old wives tale about copperheads secreting the scent of cucumbers when they feel threatened, and I know there has to be snakes in the blackberry vines, so not wanting to get tangled with a snake I backed away quickly and moved to some other bushes.

Now the cumcumber smell might be an old wives tale, but I can't figure out what would have suddenly made that smell where I was.  And I didn't want to take any chances.

Snakes have their place in this world, I would just prefer we didn't travel in the same circles.



A small tangent - this spring when searching for something in the attic I came across a snake skin in one of my boxes. I dropped that box and beat it downstairs...QUICKLY!  When I got downstairs that overwhelming feeling of "You are going to have to deal with this because there is no one nearby that will move that snake skin for you" came over me. Hand to forehead...sometimes I really hate being an indepentant woman. 



And...this was one of those times I chose to ignore the problem.  I made sure I got what I needed, but I waited for my Dad to visit and dispose of the snake skin.  There are just some things I would rather not have to do.  I can dispose of animal caracasses everyday but one snake skin creeps me out.

Where the cucumber sent was coming from.  I didn't want to explore any further.

After changing locations I proceeded to fill my bowl with juicy, wild blackberries and I only had to give up a few to the mooches with puppy breath.  I can't wait to make cobbler, cake and jams. Yum!  Now the temperatures need to cool down so that I can get back into the kitchen without sweltering.



Please keep an eye out for the others.

"Can I have those?"

A full bowl's worth even with a "snake" encounter.

Farm Animal Friday - Lulu

When you step outside of my house around 4pm you are likely to here a couple of things - chickens clucking, birds chirping and Lulu, the mule, braying.

She is not necessarily braying because she is hungry, though she will happily take any feed you give her, but around 4pm is when Brady, my thoroughbred horse, comes back from the front pasture with the cows - otherwise known as "work." It's like she calling her husband in for dinner.

Lulu

Lulu is a sweet mule who at one time had a mischievous streak.  I was told that in her younger years she would cause havoc for her hitch partner and for anyone wanting to handle her.  She could leap tall buildings in a single bound and fight off monsters. I have heard her referred to as "a fiery pistol," (that might have been an understatement). 

She is older now and has subdued quite a bit, and then last year I brought Brady to live with her.  Those large ears perked up and she was immediately enamored.  She now had someone to "talk" to and share meals with.  So when he isn't home on time she let's the world know the only way a mule can...braying. It's just one more wonderful sound of a farm.

Brady greeting Lulu after a long day at "work."