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30 08, 2024

Boys and Toys Part 2

By |2024-08-29T20:05:10-05:00August 30th, 2024|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

A blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara


Theo is just like his brother, Alex, in his love of all things with wheels. They have trains, trucks, tractors, and cars of all sizes to roll through their house.

Theo is different than Alex in his love of soft things. At his house, he has many stuffed animals to love. At Grandma’s house, he heads straight for the stuffed squirrel that belongs to the dogs.

He gently carries it around as he plays with all the other Grandma toys. Fortunately, the dogs do not mind sharing.

Over the summer we took the boys to swim at my sister’s house. She has a giant flamingo float that stars in her Instagram posts.

I sent a picture to the boys, and they were very excited to meet Florence the Flamingo.

My mother found some stuffed flamingos for the boys. Theo was immediately in love.

He doesn’t care that it is also a dog toy. I’ll never tell.

26 08, 2024

It’s Time for a Hiatus

By |2024-08-26T06:01:14-05:00August 26th, 2024|Make Me Think Monday|0 Comments

Years ago, I read an editorial by Stephen Orr in the 2018 August Better Homes & Garden magazine. His thoughts stuck with me then and seem even more applicable today.

Orr said, (and I paraphrase) “Imagine reading without the spaces between words. It would be indecipherable.”

Our “Head Space” is being sucked away without any periods or pauses.

Everywhere you look people are on their smartphones, laptops, or iPads. Not just in public places, it happens in our homes, at school, and at our places of worship.

Orr points out that those “tiny glass pocket computers” are putting us on information overload and stealing head space we need to think and process. Everything he said was true then and now. And, it’s sad.

As we move into the final months of this election year, the influx of information to process will only increase.

Orr suggests putting phones down, pausing, and giving our heads room to think. He says, “Real thoughts—your own thoughts—will start seeping back in.”

Chicken Wrangler Sara and I agreed our headspace is overloaded and not just from cell phone usage. Life is busy and moving fast. We’ve decided that Stephen Orr’s advice seemed like an effective way to recharge.

After twelve years of blogging, we’re taking a blog hiatus starting September 1 to clear our head space.

As the Von Trapp Family sang, “so long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, goodbye.”

The website will still be here. You’ll be able to find years of reading material in the archives. Simply scroll down the column on the left and use the site’s search option.

We are grateful for every one of you, our wonderful readers. You have made this blog a success.

23 08, 2024

Boys and Toys Part 1

By |2024-08-21T15:38:29-05:00August 23rd, 2024|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara


Shortly after our second grandson was born, a friend asked if I needed any “Grandma” toys. Being new to this role, I said “Sure” whereupon she brought a large bag and box of Playschool toys that her grandchildren had outgrown.

Alex, who was two at the time, was thrilled. These were toys he did not have at his house, so they were a hit.

When we were cleaning out Brian’s father’s house, we found an older version of the Playschool family and schoolhouse. We added it to the “Grandma” toys.

All the pieces were in remarkable shape considering their age.

Alex thoroughly enjoyed putting them all in the “right” spot – the table with the chairs around it, the stove and refrigerator in the kitchen, the toilet and tub in the bathroom, etc.

Back in May, there was a terrible storm in North Texas. A tornado went through the town where Alex’s other grandparents live.

The whole family helped with the cleanup, and it made a huge impression on Alex. He frequently re-enacts the storm with his toys. I think it just gives him a reason to make a big mess.

I happened to notice during this visit that one of the playschool chairs was broken.

I asked Alex about it, and he said, “I broke it on accident in the big storm.”

While I was not at all upset or even surprised by this, it did occur to me that these toys had survived the entire childhood of Aunt Jennifer yet the second time the boys played with them, something got broken.

Another difference between boys and girls!

Next week I’ll tell you about Theo’s favorite toys. (Hint:  they are not made by Playschool.)

19 08, 2024

The Slippery Slope of Perfectionism

By |2024-08-18T15:38:33-05:00August 19th, 2024|writing, Writing Craft|1 Comment

As I rewrote the beginning sentence of my WIP (work in progress) for the jillionth time, I realized that I was striving for the perfect opening hook instead of moving on with the story.

The need for perfection can stymie all of us.

The dictionary defines PERFECTION two ways:

  1. a quality, trait, or feature of the highest degree of excellence
  2. the highest degree of proficiency, skill, or excellence, as in some art

Creating something perfect is not a bad goal—until that need leads to perfectionism where you regard anything short of perfect as unacceptable.

According to Psychologytoday.com, perfectionists regard life as an endless report card on accomplishments or looks, which is a fast track to unhappiness, depression, and eating disorders.

Perfectionists focus on avoiding failure and miss all the joy of learning from mistakes.

Sadly, it’s easy to slip into the perfection trap.  Fear of a lengthy revision letter brought out my desire to produce a perfect opening. All I ended up doing was road-blocking myself.

This Hemingway quote is a great reminder for writers when the slippery slope of perfectionism threatens.

Image by Michael Schwarzenberger Pixabay.com 453796

Writer or not,  maybe the quote can help when the slippery slope of perfectionism threatens.

16 08, 2024

Summer Project and Beyond

By |2024-08-15T17:10:29-05:00August 16th, 2024|Friday on the Miller Farm, Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara


Every summer I decide to work in the flower beds in the front yard.  Of course, it is a million degrees, but I get them cleared and then school starts and the weeds overtake everything again.

This summer I was inspired by our neighbors raised beds in her front yard.

We have three raised beds in our front yard that previously had vegetables growing in them.  Now they are full of grass and weeds.

This was my summer project.

I started on the right but discovered a whole planet of fire ants.

I moved on to the middle bed.

After clearing them, I got plants and seeds from a friend who has all native plants in her yard.  I transplanted obedient plants and frog fruit. I also planted sunflowers and zinnias.

This past weekend, I checked on the last bed and the ants had moved on so I weeded it and planted marigolds, more sunflowers and black-eyed susans.

Since I am not working in the classroom this year, I am able to check on the flower beds every day.  I water them and pull the grass that still thinks it belongs in these beds.

I’m hoping with more consistent care the beds will produce a variety of flowers that I can cut and bring inside.

Yet another reason to celebrate retirement!

12 08, 2024

Spell Checkers and Grammar Checkers – Beware!

By |2024-08-11T15:39:14-05:00August 12th, 2024|writing, Writing Craft|0 Comments

If you use a computer or a cell phone, you  likely have a spell checker and/or grammar checker running when you type. It can be helpful and save embarrassing mistakes.

Or not.

Thanks to something called the Cupertino Effect where a spell checker erroneously replaces mistakes with correctly spelled words that are not correct in the sentence.

The name comes from the unhyphenated English word “cooperation” often being changed to “Cupertino” by older spell checkers.

This poem composed in 1992 by Dr. Jerrold H. Zar demonstrates the issue with autocorrect. Read these first three stanzas aloud and you’ll see the full impact of Cupertinos.

CANDIDATE FOR A PULLET SURPRISE

I have a spelling checker,
It came with my PC.
It plane lee marks four my revue
Miss steaks aye can knot sea.

Eye ran this poem threw it,
Your sure reel glad two no.
Its vary polished in it’s weigh.
My checker tolled me sew.

A checker is a bless sing,
It freeze yew lodes of thyme.
It helps me right awl stiles two reed,
And aides me when eye rime.

Although all the spelling is correct, the words are faulty. Mark Eckman offers insight into “The Spell Checker Poem’s” here along with a read of the full poem.

The poem is a cautionary tale for all of us who place too much trust in our computer’s spell checker. An equal warning is true of computer Grammar checkers and Editors.

Writers, particularly, must be watchful. Publisher house style guides do not necessarily follow standard writing styles so auto-corrected grammar can create issues.

The Oxford comma is a fitting example. Some publishers prefer to use it. Others don’t. Grammar checkers will always tag if it’s missing in a series.

Unless, of course, you set preferences in the program.

Grammar editors also don’t allow for a writer’s voice. My grammar checker flags my sentences all the time.

Example: “At the same time, she was different, changed.”

Grammar Program Correction: “At the same time, she was different, [and] changed.”

Correct but not my writer’s voice.

Example: “He wasn’t arguing relationships.”

Grammar Program Correction: “He wasn’t arguing [about] relationships.”

Again, correct grammatically but not what the speaker said.

My favorite example is the cell phone autocorrect which always changes its to it’s.

Or we’ll to well.

With AI controlling spell checkers and grammar programs more and more,  corrections need a much closer human eye to keep the meaning clear.

Grammar-editor programs and spell checkers are only as good as the user.

Do you have any examples with your spell checker or grammar editor software? Share in the comments.

5 08, 2024

Hoarding Stuff vs Sentimental Clutter

By |2024-08-04T15:36:55-05:00August 5th, 2024|A Writer's Life, Make Me Think Monday, Writer's Life|1 Comment

Merriam-Webster defines hoarding as the compulsion to continually accumulate a variety of items that are often considered useless or worthless by others accompanied by an inability to discard the items without great distress.

A second definition is a temporary board fence put about a building being erected or repaired. As a wordsmith, I thought was interesting. But I digress.

Sometimes it’s not a compulsion to accumulate, but simply the fact you’ve lived a long time that you have so much stuff.

We’ve downsized multiple times and decluttered regularly. Still, there are personal things I just can’t bring myself to discard.

Like the antiques, my husband and I acquired over the years. Though, with each downsize/declutter pieces and collections have been passed on or sold.

That’s as it should be.

Our children’s generation and their children’s generation aren’t “into” antiques like we were. (Probably because they grew up with the old stuff.)

Their lives, their choices.

But if looking at the contents of our China cabinets or setting a hot cup of tea on a Victorian marble-top table makes us happy, we’ll hang onto the old stuff.

Things that cause the most trouble when decluttering are the things with sentimental attachments. Things like a metal stand hubby made in his metal shop class or the little bowl I made in my wood shop class.

Back when we were in school, Texas girls and boys were required to take home economics and shop classes as electives.

Even if your master plan was college, before you graduated, you had to take both classes.

Both pieces have traveled with us through all our moves to ten different states, some states more than once.

His stand sometimes held a circular piece of plywood to be a little side table. For the last thirty-plus years, it’s held our gazing ball in the garden. My dish has always held safety pins and loose buttons. That’s where it is today.

Does that make us hoarders or collectors of sentimental clutter?

Neither, I say. Both objects bring back thoughts of how we met in high school.

The boxes of baby clothes, military uniforms, high school letter sweaters, my grandmother’s handsewn dresses, and his mother’s handsewn quilts stored in the barn — well, those might count as sentimental hoarding.

But again, I can’t get rid of them, because each article recalls fond memories of times past.

And that’s the real reason I keep things, I mean hoard things, the memories. Don’t we all?

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