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16 03, 2015

SPRING BREAK, MUD, and AMAZING ADVENTURES

By |2019-03-23T10:06:33-05:00March 16th, 2015|Uncategorized|0 Comments

It’s Spring Break time and every other car in our little tourist town sports an out-of-state license plate.

Not complaining. It’s great for our local businesses.

At our house, grandkids from Texas, siblings, nieces, and friends are coming to enjoy skiing, snowmobiling, and hiking beneath the bright, blue Colorado sky.

Again, not complaining. It’s great to see them.

Spring Break time brings another phenomenon—MUD.

Squishy, slippery, mud puddles line the edges of the road, the yards, the trails. Ruts are carved into every unpaved road. Mud gathers on your shoes, in your car, in your house, on your dogs’ paws. It’s everywhere.

The Forest Service marks hiking, snowshoe, and snowmobile trails based upon safety issues. Many trails close because the roads are deemed unsafe, but you can still see some wonderful snow-covered mountainsides in the Rio Grande National Forest if you are careful.

We ventured out in our four-wheel vehicle with our granddaughter, Catherine, and her friend, Caleb, while they were here.

We did fine until we tried to show Catherine the trail where her father comes to fish every summer. The trail was not blocked nor was it snow covered.

But we did get stuck…in guess what—MUD.

stuck in mud-snowVery stuck. The car sat perpendicular to the roadbed on a very squishy, slippery, rutted road after a failed U-turn.

Catherine, Caleb, and I tried to push our Pilot SUV out of the ditch. No luck.

We slipped rocks under the tires to gain traction. No luck.

We used the dog’s car water dish as a shovel to try to dig out. No luck.

Night was falling fast. The temperatures were dropping. We called for help, but had to leave a message with a friend who has towing capability.

As we sat patiently waiting for a return call, Catherine, our very smart, very talented oboe-playing granddaughter, says, “Floor mats. I think I remember reading to use floor mats under the tires when you’re stuck in snow or mud.”Catherine and Caleb

Brilliant girl, our Catherine. Brilliant guy, Caleb.

Between the added traction from the heavy-duty place mats and the strength of the two college kids pushing from the front, the car, once again, headed back to paved road.

Mud covered us, our jeans, our boots, and our hands, and face, and caked in our hair. The outside of our car was now polka-dotted in mud, and the inside of the car oozed in mud.

While it wasn’t so amazing during the excitement, quite the opposite, I can look back now and say, what an amazing adventure!

And two amazing college kids have returned home with a long-to-be-talked-about Spring Break MUD adventure.

13 03, 2015

Hippo Hair

By |2015-03-13T06:00:48-05:00March 13th, 2015|Friday on the Miller Farm|0 Comments

By Chicken Wrangler Sara

Every year at Christmas, I sing “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas.” It’s a real song I promise.

This year Rachel got me a hippopotamus – she made me a hippo hat.hippo hatI love it. Now I can sing “I Got a Hippopotamus for Christmas!” – which I do.

This week we had another cold spell so I wore my hippo hat to school. The kids (and teachers) all love It was so worth it.d it.

I wore it all day and as I walked into the teacher’s room at lunch, all the teachers were looking at me. I explained that I could not take my hat off because I now had “hippo hair.”hippo hairThey thought it was hysterical.

Of course they did, their hair looked wonderful. Mine, however, looked as though a hippopotamus had been sitting on it all day.

Wednesday is “hat day” at school. I may wear my hippo hat again – unless I decide to wear my magic hat. Decisions, decisions……

6 03, 2015

That’s No Chicken

By |2015-03-06T06:00:53-06:00March 6th, 2015|Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

by Chicken Wrangler Sara

I was working at my computer this week when I caught a glimpse of something out the front window.  At first glance it appeared that a chicken was in the road. (Was it trying to cross?  If so, why?)

I got up and started toward the door, wondering if it was one of ours chicks or another stray chicken (see You’re not My Chicken! You’re a Snort.)

About that time a car drove by and the bird took flight.

turkey vulture

It looked like a small plane – huge wingspan.  It was a turkey vulture.  It flew to the roof across the street then waited in the yard for a while.

turkey vulture2Eventually it flew away.

Yesterday the grandmother of a piano student was waiting in the driveway and said she saw some huge birds circling the back yard.  I sure hope it wasn’t the turkey vulture and his friends.  Chickens I will wrangle but I draw the line at turkey vultures.

4 03, 2015

OLD MAN WINTER vs THE GROUNDHOG

By |2015-03-04T06:00:35-06:00March 4th, 2015|Holidays|0 Comments

The tradition of predicting how long Old Man Winter keeps us in his grip based upon whether the groundhog sees its shadow has ancient roots.

European’s celebrated Feb. 2 (winter’s midpoint) on Candlemas Day, a festival of lights that also included a folk song for predicting the arrival of spring.

If Candlemas be fair and bright, Come, winter, have another flight;

If Candlemas brings clouds and rain, Go winter, and come not again.

The German settlers of Pennsylvania brought the tradition along with their folk song: 

For as the sun shines on Candlemas Day, So far will the snow swirl until the May.

brer_groundhog_at_workThen the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club added a slight variation with Punxsutawney Phil, who has predicted Old Man Winter’s length since the first trek to Gobbler’s Hill in 1887.

These days we don’t think of the old folk songs. We’ve worry about two possibilities:

If the prognosticating groundhog (also known as a woodchuck, or whistle-pig), sees its shadow, it becomes frightened and scurries back into its burrow. This means six more weeks of winter.  

If it’s cloudy and the groundhog does not see its shadow, he stays outside. This indicates a mild spring. 

Last month on the 129th official Groundhog Day, Punxsutawney Phil predicted six more weeks of winter. Long Island’s Malverne Mel and Michigan’s Bill Murray went along with Phil’s forecast.

However, his country cousins – Staten Island’s Chuck, Georgia’s General Beauregard Lee, Ohio’s Buckeye Chuck and Las Vegas’ Mojave Max – all disagreed, predicting an early spring.

Stormfax says Phil has only been right 39% of the time. The Punxsutawney Groundhog Club boasts he has 100% accuracy.

This year I’m thinking Phil was spot on. If you’ve watched the news for the last four weeks you know most of the country is buried beneath a lifetime quota of snow, ice, and cold.

My concern is Phil’s six more weeks of winter ends on March 16. That’s two weeks from now. I’m not sure Old Man Winter will surrender.

In fact, as I write this, snow is coming down outside. The weather forecast is for nineteen inches with more snow next week. How on earth will those crocus and daffodils I planted last fall push through all the white stuff?

Please Old Man Winter, give it up. My daffodils beg you.

And, so do I!

27 02, 2015

Operettas and New Chicks

By |2015-02-27T06:00:23-06:00February 27th, 2015|Miller Farm Friday|2 Comments

A blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

The private school where I teach music does a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta each year and has for the past 37 years.  When I took the job I specified that I could not help with the operetta.  Our children were still in elementary school and I knew the time commitment of a performance would be beyond my ability.  This was fine as I was teaching only the elementary grades.

Our enrollment has declined over the past few years so I am now the only music teacher which means I am helping with the operetta.

This year the Gala performance was last Friday evening. We had rehearsals all day every day last week. My Tuesday/Thursday teaching job became a Monday through Friday job.  Brian asked me Wednesday evening if I would have time on Thursday to pick up 25 chicks he had ordered.

I took a deep breath and said “Sure, I can go during lunch.”

Now picking up chicks sounds pretty simple but, remember, they have bird brains.  Each chick must have their beak dipped in the water trough so they know where to get water.  Knowing the limited amount of time I had for lunch, I decided to enlist some help. I couldn’t afford to miss any rehearsal time.

One of the students in the operetta is an experienced chick handler so I took her with me. She knew exactly what to do.

I explained to the directors where I was going and what I was doing.  They had no idea how much was involved with picking up the chicks.  I felt more like an animal science teacher than a music director.

chicks in brooderNow we have chicks in the brooder in the garage once again.

We can hear them cheeping happily as we eat breakfast every morning.  I check them regularly to make sure they have food and water along with the quail, big chickens, bantam chickens, dogs and humans.

Helping with the operetta doesn’t seem like so much work any more.

25 02, 2015

4 Ways to Keep Your Productive Faucet Flowing

By |2015-02-25T06:00:34-06:00February 25th, 2015|Make Me Think Monday|1 Comment

February is almost over. We’re moving at warp speed through 2015. So how are you doing on those plans and resolutions from New Year’s Day?

If you’re like me, that faucet of enthusiasm has slowed to a trickle or off entirely. Barely a drip.water1

It’s time to heed the words of a great writerly quote from Louis L’Amour, an American author of hundreds of authentic western novels:

“The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.”

The full quote, “Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.” provides great advice for writers.

You see when life spins out of control writers, well at least to this writer, lets the distractions stop my writing. Instead of moving ahead, I tend to think, “I’ll just finish __________ then I’ll get back to writing.”

Fill in the blank with whatever distracts you from working toward your goal. You don’t have to be a writer to fall into the distraction trap.

What happens is each passing day we don’t work on our goal or resolution, it becomes easier not to do what we planned. Doesn’t take long before self-doubt makes us question if our project is even worth the time at all.

Here are four ways I plan to get myself back on track, and turn my faucet on again.water2

Establish a Schedule

A schedule doesn’t have to be set in stone or the same every single day or week. Make it adjustable. Most important, put the time slots on your calendar the way you would any other appointment or commitment.

Seize Small Chunks of Time

An hour may not seem like much, but you’d be surprised at what can be accomplished in a small, consistent, and repeated amount of time. Snatch those minutes wherever you can.

My goal for 2015 is two books published so I’m training myself to keep my iPad with me and write wherever I go like when I’m waiting at the doctor’s office or a passenger in the car. Since I live in the mountains and the nearest Wal-Mart, doctor, or grocery store is at least thirty minutes away. I’m amazed at how my word count builds.

Set your goal as your priority every day.

I work toward my goals BEFORE I do any other tasks for the day. I find if I do the laundry, clean the house or any of those other very necessary tasks first, I always run out of time. You will too.

Reward Small Successes

Be proud of small incremental steps. I remind myself almost on a daily basis that one word a day gives me 365 words of my novel by the end of the year. When I write an entire chapter, I celebrate with chocolate, usually M&Ms!

If you’re like me and your faucet isn’t flowing as it should, it’s not too late. Do not give up or abandon your goals and resolutions altogether.Rejuvenate that motivation you had six weeks ago. Turn your faucet on.

water3Hear that water rushing?  Now turn your faucet on and let it flow steadily.

 

20 02, 2015

Mythbusting on Miller Farm

By |2015-02-20T06:00:55-06:00February 20th, 2015|Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

By Chicken Wrangler Sara

There are many things I have been told throughout my life that I have come to realize are just not true.  For example, I’ve always thought that a bee can only sting someone once and then it dies.  I learned this weekend that is a myth.

We had an unusually warm day on Saturday so the bees thought it was Spring and  were out gathering pollen. One of the hives sits on the back porch right next to the path I take to the chicken coop.  During the real Spring, I alter my path so as not to disturb the bees. This being February, I didn’t think about walking around the busy bees.VarroaMiteOnAHoneybee

Halfway to the chicken yard I felt a sting on my back. I instinctively reached back to brush away the bee and quickly felt a sting on my finger.  Then there was buzzing in my hair.  I began to walk quickly around the yard saying “go away, go away.” This was one of the times I was grateful for the privacy fence.   Then the buzzing stopped.

I took care of the chickens then went back inside (via the alternate path) to have Brian check my back for a stinger.  There was none but I had definitely been stung.  Then the buzzing started again.  I headed for the door but Brian called me back so he could find the bee.  It took every bit of self- control I had to stand still while he searched my hair.  He knocked the bee to the ground and then used a napkin to pick it up.  It had lost its stinger but was still alive – until Brian squished it.  That reminds me of a song – I’m bringing home a baby bumblebee…..but I digress.

So the myth of bees only stinging once is busted.  Next, I’ll tackle the myth that only roosters crow.

18 02, 2015

A Love Affair

By |2015-02-18T06:00:38-06:00February 18th, 2015|one word Wednesday|0 Comments

loveLove is in the air. It is, after all, February.

I must confess I’ve caught the love bug and I’m having an affair.

A love affair with words.

Long before I met my husband and shared my heart with him, words held me in their spell.

The affair goes way back to when I learned the alphabet and started to string letters into words. Then I learned to read words and instantly knew …

Words are powerful. Potent.

Words enchant. Entice.

Words stir emotions.

I listened to nursery rhymes, chants, and children’s poetry read from My Book House, a series of twelve volumes compiled and edited by Olive Beaupré Miller.

My book houseStories and poetry from My Book House opened worlds I’d never imagined. As I grew older and worked my way through the volumes, biographies of famous men and women down through history inspired me, folklore from around the world fascinated me, and poetry from Longfellow, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Song of Solomon inspired me.

Curled up reading through those volumes, my love for words grew stronger and blossomed into a love of books.?????????I doubt I’ll ever abandon my affair with words, but don’t worry my husband doesn’t mind. He loves books as much as I do. Thank heavens the supply of books is unending.

13 02, 2015

Chicken Cookies

By |2015-02-13T06:00:24-06:00February 13th, 2015|Miller Farm Friday|4 Comments

By Chicken Wrangler Sara

Our school secretary/business administrator is a wonderful lady. I’ve always known that the school secretary is the one who runs the school, and that is never truer than in a small private school. When she was gone for a few days taking care of her husband it took 4 people to do her job.

She has two grandsons who were in my music classes when they were at the school.  They frequently visit so I keep an eye out at the food pantry for things they might enjoy.  Each week I stop by the school on my way home to deliver whatever prizes I have found.

Last Friday Mary had a prize for me.  She had been working at a garage sale and found a basket of cookie cutters.  Among them was this:cookie cutterShe immediately thought of me.

I was thrilled. I have quite a collection of cookie cutters – thanks to my mother – but a chicken was not among them.

Over the weekend, along with canning 6 pints of tomato sauce, 6 pints of spiced apples, 4 half pints of apple butter, and freezing 10 cups of mashed sweet potatoes, I made chicken cookies.

cookies

I took them to school and left them in the teacher workroom with a note explaining that they were chicken cookies – sugar cookies shaped like chickens, not cookies made from chicken.  At least one teacher was glad for the clarification.

11 02, 2015

Four Passionate Romantic Gestures

By |2015-02-11T06:00:39-06:00February 11th, 2015|Holidays|3 Comments

According to French writer François Rabelais, “Gestures, in love, are incomparably more attractive, effective, and valuable than words.”

With Valentine’s Day this weekend, I expect romantic gestures will abound. Every year at this time sales of red roses and chocolates will soar. Couples share candlelight dinners.  Expensive jewelry is exchanged. All very romantic things to do to express love for one’s sweetheart.

I’m wondering how whatever gestures of love are made this weekend can conpete with these:

Shah Jahan’s Taj MahalTaj Mahal

Around 1632 Mughal emperor Shah Jahan built the Taj Mahal—with its elaborate minarets, 250-foot-high domed mausoleum and 42-acre grounds—as a tomb for his third wife, Mumtaz Mahal, who died giving birth to the couple’s 14th child. When he died in 1666, he was buried beside her.

Edward VIII’s Abdication of the Throne edward and wallie

King Edward the VIII became the most romantic English royal of all when he fell in love with American Wallis Simpson. Forced to choose between love and crown, Edward abdicated the throne in December 1936. Simpson quickly divorced her husband to marry Edward the following year. They spent the rest of their lives in retirement in France.

browningsElizabeth Barrett Browning’s Love Sonnets to Robert Browning

The love between poets Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Robert Browning is one of literature’s greatest romances. In 1850 Elizabeth Barrett’s “Sonnets from the Portuguese,” a series of love poems composed when the pair first began their courtship was published. “Sonnets from the Portuguese” includes the immortal line, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.”

Joe DiMaggio’s Flowers for Marilyn Monroemarilyn monroe

Married to Marilyn Monroe for only 274 days in 1954, Joe DiMaggio remained infatuated with the legendary blonde bombshell for the rest of his life sending red roses to her grave in Los Angeles three times a week for the next twenty years.

Over the years, my very romantic husband has given me some incredible wonderful gifts of love.

He’s not built a Taj Mahal, but a lovely home in the forest I dearly love sharing with him.  He  hasn’t abdicated a throne, but if he were royalty, he tells me he would. He has written love poems, and given me Hallmark cards, that equal or surpass Mrs. Browning’s sonnets. And, though I won’t be around, I can see him leaving me flowers. He surprises me frequently with a lovely bouquet,

How about you have you received some awesome romantic gesture(s) of love you’d be willing to share?

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