Week in Review

     Figuratively and literally...This has been a week. Longest I've gone without writing (at least publicly, as in blogging), which places me a little out of sorts. Reason being? Life on the farm is far from laid back. (Nice try John Denver.) To the contrary, life around here's been downright crazed.
     For those who think that gardening's a spring/summer sport, think again. The time leading up to and the dark days after harvest are every bit as critical to the equation...Maybe even more so.
     It's no surprise that weather dictates most everything that happens on a farm (if not our lives entirely), but one must give credit where credit is due-- we got a pass in January. (Thank God my baby goats were born on milder days.) That said, February's made up for it in spades (no pun intended).  And while the snow and cold can drive anyone bonkers, my thoughts and my heart cannot help but reflect on why Northerners stay. (I mean, seriously. What keeps them there?) I have a theory(if not downright fear) that one day the flood gates will open and they'll all come racing down South just to get out of the white freeze zones. God bless 'em. Wonder now if they're really feeling like they won that war.
     As for winter weather and life around here, well, it's not so much the snow or even the cold as it is the unpredictability ...Makes it all but impossible to finish a project, much less launch a new one...At the end of the day, I suppose it's all just another reminder that much as we feign control, we control nothing...Those who figure this out early in life are the winners. The rest of us are just slow learners. Kid yourself if you want, but farm folk know otherwise.
     Here's to the season that's shaping up...
     Film at 11 (Literally; the cameras came in this week)
     I'm told the word is "V-logging"

The Reviews Are In --Craftsman Heater Wins By Several Noses!

     Well, I couldn't have timed it better...So focused was I on the kids in the barn, that I forgot to check my own propane at the house, so guess who woke up to frigid cold temps? (The good news is I had a lot of space heaters on hand having spent yesterday shopping for the kids!)
     Nothing like a real emergency for a serious product test...Took that heater competition to a whole new level.
     While waiting out the verdict of whether or not that big propane truck could make it down my drive, I did something I have never before done: I read the instructions...like a novel, I read each manual, start to finish...all 7 of them. Yep. That's what I did.

     Pulling out the first and largest (a Kenmore "Quartz" heater--not suitable for outdoors or for critters that jumps or near hay that burns) I plugged the thing in for my own indoor use, only to discover it's LOUD...We're talking very, VERY loud...As in runway loud...There's got to be something wrong with this machine.

     Facebook responses ranged from "It's low on oil" ( it's not an oil burning machine) to "It's got a short" (which it likely does). But what time it was on the flat hardwood surface of my living area, it danced around, making me very nervous, and the cat even mores so, so now it's back in its tidy little Kenmore box with its receipt sticking out. (i.e. We'll be taking this one back.)

     Second was a Kenmore Milkhouse Utility Heater...(Again, heaters and things with open coils are not going in the barn. Blowers only for the barn and goat-baby purposes. But for MY money, the Kenmore's a winner! For its size, it cranks, and while I didn't quite get this when I bought it, it can also be used in the summer as a fan, so Hey . . .! (Make that "Hay!")  We'll be keeping this one!  It did a dandy job warming up the kitchen while I waited for Mr. Propane.  

     Meanwhile, back in the barn...the little red Craftsman Blower won hooves down! (Seriously... my babies are Superbowl ad material for this product...They're in love with the thing~ pictured above)

     Meanwhile, to give credit where credit is due, kudos to the Advance Propane team...This could not have been an easy day for their crews...

     As of this writing,  it's snowing again.

     How Northerners do it is beyond me.

     Right now, I'm just glad the propane dudes survived it, my own heat is cranking again and the kids are happy with their bright red heater/blower . . .

     Stay tuned...

   

Consumer Protection Journalism

     Let the record reflect...

     As it pertains to the journalistic approach to things, I'm more your conversational, Q&A kinda gal..This I've lived...This I have found to work well...

     When it comes to consumer protection... I do what I think we should all do ...I consult those I trust first...and then I Google...do more research.

    So went my heat-back up search... I pay close attention to the Dale Cardwells, the Andy Parghs... even my own brother...These guys know about products and what they should be doing than I could ever hope to absorb...

    But give me an abrupt change in weather...the kind of change that could kill baby goats in one blast...Well, I'm stepping up / stepping in ...Taking no chances... Selecting the best heater for the babies has now become first hand and personal. (Not to say I'm not consulting the reviews as well...but we're talking family now...Thems fighting' words!)

   So with zero and below on the charts for tonight, I risked life and limb...drove into town...bought one of everything left on a shelf...(Yes, I realize, the last/least/leftovers are last/least/likely to be the number one picks, which may be a review unto itself...but then again, I suspect there are others like me...likewise hoping to have a little extra heat for something they love and hope to have properly planned for, so for YOU, if you ventured out today thinking "Maybe one last heating device could make a difference"...well YOU, my friend,  are my audience... (if not my kin)!

     So I bought one of each of the above.. (picture attached; receipts close by)

    And when they asked, "Do you want the one year warranty?" my response was, I need the one night warranty ... Cause to quote my man Rod Stewart, "Tonight's the night."

    I may well be sleeping in a barn...and if so, all the more reason, I need to know which warms best and fastest...

    (Northerners are used to this sort of things...Tennesseans are not.)

    Yea, I know...Critters have fur...They've been surviving this stuff lots longer than we'll have this blast...

    But as I painstakingly care for mine, I share for the sake of your own... what I find ...

    Let you know how it works out...

   (Granted, this is not a scientifically valid survey...It's me. Concerned for goats... Knowing things will get knocked over...well aware of the flammability of hay, so I'll be sticking around in case a loud smoke alarm goes off...But knowing what devices I can hang from a barn/stable door vs. what things need to go back in the box...These are the things I'll be writing about come morning...provided I haven't burned myself to the ground (but if I do, know I went down with the goats!)

    I dedicate this post both for inside critters as much as outdoors (Disclaimer: I AM an inside critter as of now... one loss of power, I will be an outdoor critter... This should make my focus group no less valid)

   With ZERO and below in our forecast, I decided it's worth hunker down and test these things, even if it means having a few "extras" on hand...

    Back to you when the sun comes up ...

 

Brekfuss...The Most Important Meal of the Day

     So despite the fact that we're enduring the most frigid arctic blast since, well...last year's polar vortex thing, the show must go on with life on the farm...

     Once we crawl out of bed on the INSIDE of the house...we suit up and head to the OUTSIDE of the house, where were venture forth across land and (all we can) see and snow and ice...making our way to the barn where (this particular shift) TJ has kept watch over our flock by night... (with two rather large dogs on the outside...and one big dog on the inside...as in "with me" ...all night long)

    We open the door...fling open the sash...

     And another day begins...

     (Admit it. How different would our lives be if we entered our day, getting THIS excited before breakfast...!)

Silent Church/Holy Church

   

     So my ground's not the only thing frozen right now...
     On my TV screen, Holly Thompson's face...is frozen in a most distorted expression...

     And then my TV fades to black.

     My screen now reads:

ONE MOMENT PLEASE

This channel should be available shortly.

(Me? I'm thinking: "Operative word: "should")  

I pause to breathe in the silence.

     The ice on my drive, my deck, my trees, I can measure with a ruler. Only now has it started to snow. (Before now, it's been ice and sleet and see-through precipitation...all solid, all hard, all very icy cold and pretty, but nothing to compare to the fluffy, inviting stuff we were all hoping to wake to and play in by now.)

     My systems alarm shows icons I've never before seen...It's caught my attention.
     I have living things I love outside these doors...(and many inside).
     It's those below zero overnights that'll stop you in your tracks.

     So cable is out, which means, for me, for now I use the hotspot on my phone (my phone, btw, now tethered, as is my computer, as are my back up battery options, cause once cable goes out, electric is bound to follow ... #lifeinasmalltown )

     I'm thinking back to that ice storm of '98. Like today, it didn't look all that scary at first...It was the kind of dusting that makes Northerners laugh. But it's also the kind of ice we Southerners' know to respect as it can rearrange your life like nobody's business.

     Thank God for that holiday weekend!
           (Thanks to out-of-town guests, I have food in my fridge!)

     I thank God I now have a helper...
           (Because Friday found me in meetings, someone watched a forecast. Thanks to him and his sweet wife, my goat chow is replenished. My dogs, have a surplus on hand.)

     What else might I do?
            How else to prepare?

     Anything recharge-able, is at this moment charging. (My computer, my cell, my back up battery to my cell and computer...Check.Check.Check.)

     Candles are handy.

     Flashlights near door.

     What more can a girl do?


     Last week we stacked wood ...

     The rest... I consider a gift.


     God's little silent test run for a girl who now contemplates "sustainable" living on a daily basis....

     Thought through in advance, and we get to remove fear.

     Coming at you after ...when you least expect it... Adrenals go off, and any number of chaotic choices and reflex reactions can transpire...

     I silently choose the former as I light a candle and watch a steady, beautiful snow now replacing that hard hitting sleet that first met my day ... and stealing my cable.

     So I won't see the forecasts...(oh well)
     I can't hear reports...
     If something bad's coming, I'll be the last to know (and you know, I'm actually ok with that)

     Sorry world. I cannot ponder with you on this one, but do know I am silently, peacefully, feeling this experience alongside, inside with you...For we are all one.

     I once asked for meaningful...
     Lo and behold, God delivered.

     This time by way of a silent, sleeting, snowy isolation...
     (oh yeah, and she removed my cable...and no doubt soon, my internet)

     Oh well...

     Hard to call that a problem...

                              to the contrary...

                                         pretty certain it's a gift.


   

Birthdays/Holidays/Everyday

    (Wherever my last lengthy tribute went, well...that's Beyond Reason...For all I dare to think, I have yet to figure out the cloud!)

    Meanwhile, my last 48 hours exemplify beautifully, the variety of activity in a country girl's life...

    Friday, February 13th marked the 28th anniversary of a career that will forever be a part of me, and a show that will never leave me. My foray into talk radio likewise began on a Friday the 13th...in a lounge-turned-live-radio-audience, that forever changed my life. I met Teddy Bart, doing a show called Beyond Reason...The rest (as they say) is history...

     Fast forward 28 years, I now live on a farm. I would not take anything for what led me to this point...(Perhaps this blog will fill in the holes.)

     Friday was a city day/all day. Thanks to now having help on the farm, I was able to break away early...Get to Nashville in time to sign contracts and catch lunch meetings. Wrapping up somewhere around rush hour on a side of town I seldom visit anymore, (save for the fact that my one and only sibling lives near Cool Springs) well, sharing a toast on his birthday marked the perfect ending to a perfect city day.

     By Saturday, it was farm day/all day...

     Out of town friends (two likewise celebrating  birthdays) made their way from all corners of the Southeast... Nothing like a bunch of goats jumping on you, home cooked meals and Valentine's chocolates and cup cakes thrown in for good measure, to help you ring in a new year, while rounding out your weekend and setting the tone for a blustery, blizzard of an overbooked week ahead...

Things I Cherish Most / Precious Memories

     Some memories are etched forever...
          Some run deeper than others...
              Some last all life long...
   
     For me, that list includes

     ...holding hands with Daddy as we drove country backroads
                                                           (...singing every song that driver knew)

     ...Mom reading me Pooh stories, complete with voices ( "Help! Help... A Horrible Heffalump... Hoff! Hoff! a Hellible Horralump!")

     ...milk coming out my nose at the most inappropriate times (and me giggling all the way to bed with no supper... Poor Mom. This happened more than anyone would like to admit...(except for my brother, who mastered comedic timing at a very young age.)

     ...riding alongside Thurman today on his big red tractor ... laying out next year's garden (complete with brand new lavender rows...Thurman hates lavender...Exponentially excited for the lavender!)

    Sweet dreams are made of these . . .

     Precious memories...
             (how they linger)

   


   

Favorite Time of Day (Tender Tennessee Sunset)

     No matter the weather, no matter how slammed, you don't want to miss end of day wrap up on the farm ...
     As chores come to a stopping point, and tools get put away, we stop to reflect on what got done, what still needs to happen, and where we'll pick up tomorrow, (after all spring is right around the corner and we've got a bunch of projects to go).
     But for the last 15 to 20, it's goat and dog hugging time in Tennessee...

(l to r) Rosebud, Me, Hix, Rosey (TJs off chasing Picasso)

Pat and Shannon thank God for a peaceful day 

A Kiss on the Nose from Annie

Triscuit sez "My turn Ellie...You've been up there long enough."

   

Creating Vicariously

     Outside my window I hear hammering...I hear a goat baby cry for its mama (and a faint reply cry in the distance). I hear all 4 dogs bark as a gravel truck passes down the road.
     I hear my garage door go up and my lawnmower start, and in short order I catch a glimpse of someone pulling a wagon full of wood to the barn (because I haven't had time to shop for a mule or a used ATV).

      As for me, I am stuck inside, forced behind a desk to get some overdue paperwork completed. Nothing gets created till the numbers add up and, well, we all know how I feel about numbers. (Can't live without 'em/forced to deal with them.) Still and so, out of kindness to my CPA I sort through the box of receipts and stapled together credit card statements. By dark it will make sense to me at least; by tomorrow I'll pour over it with her.
    But let us be perfectly clear...Much as I love the cat who has positioned himself strategically in the middle of all this, I WANT to be outside. Every fiber of my being longs to be outside working on the projects with the guys and stopping to hug on critters. When they stop for lunch, I suit up...go hug the critters...get jumped by baby goats... surround myself in a sea of huge white dogs who circle around, no doubt sensing mommy's having a stressful day.  Ten minutes of of this much needed "fix" and I return to my forced confinement of all paperwork, all day long. I've procrastinated long enough.

       By end of day I look as if I've slept on my head. I step outside to say goodbye to the workers and am pleasantly surprised to discover they have finished one of several projects we had budgeted for spring: this one being my first ever "raised bed planter boxes" in which I intend to start my first ever herb garden this year.
     While I did not get to help in the creativity of the build itself, it was my idea to start them...I knew just where to place them and how they should look...I had sketched it all out on notebook paper 3 days before and am pleased with how much better they look than my stick drawing. A lovely addition to my goat fencing, plus conveniently located for kitchen purposes, the whole project trims out the place nicely while adding a certain functionality to the entire cookbook equation.
     While not my favorite way to spend a day, my number crunching has everything to do with whether I CAN create another and another project...and so I resign myself to the task and chain myself to the desk.
     So in short, the creativity of this day was lived vicariously...I could see creativity going on...I could hear it...I envisioned it. But I did not get to hammer on this one.
     Still and so, something got created! Something manifested from a thought to a thing, which is my favorite thing to do in life, and for this reason, we shall call it a good day!

A Day for Remembering

     

     Today is Teddy's birthday.
      My cohost, business partner, mentor and friend of 2 decades died just before Christmas. Now, along with my father, my uncles, my Mema, my Granny, my Papaw, I have a new candle on my alter, and just the right picture of him with my dog Darby (also on the alter) in happier days. "Happy Birthday wherever you are" I text the shot to Facebook.
      To double check, I open my laptop; the first three images are also memorials. People who've lost pets share their grief.
      I scroll a little further...and my eyes lock in on a tombstone...Beneath it a tribute from a mother still grieving the loss of a child who died 36 years ago.
     I know this woman; I knew her son. I don't know how anyone gets past losing a child, but Patsy's story has touched a lot of people.
     She hails from a town I adore. Population about 700, Alexandria is the epitome of that small country town where everybody knows your name. My dad ran a country bank (in a day when a good name and a firm handshake were all you needed). One of Daddy's passions was coaching his Babe Ruth team: the Loan Arrangers. Mike was his batboy until he was big enough to play himself. He adored "Mr. Eddie" and Daddy adored him.

     It was a Norman Rockwell kinda day...picture-perfect snow, kids, even parents, sledding down Academy (a hill tailor made for days like these) Laughter physically filled the air. Neighbors watched out their windows as they made hot cocoa for whomever might show up in need of a bathroom break or a warm up...It was small town living at its best. Everyone was happy. Everything about this day was perfect ...except for the way it ended.
     The Facebook post hit a nerve. I begin to tear up.
     My thoughts go back to Teddy...our years together...all the shows we produced... the questions we had...
     I thought about my dad...my uncle...all my family on the other side that now outweighs the family I have on this one...
     My phone chimes...A text from a friend, likewise grieving, who lost her husband 2 months ago. Friends and family are there for her as she works through the pain. She was coming to hug goats, but took a tumble that rearranged her day. Just letting me know she was ok, but even through a text, I can feel it. She now adds physical to the emotional pain she was already carrying.
     Some days hit you harder than others. Perhaps there is some reunion going on over there (or are they here?) Some vibe in the air. It affects my whole day...Not in a morbid way, but in a meaningful one.
     Last post I read before heading out to hug goats is from another friend...One I haven't seen since grade school, but one I get to see now thanks to modern technology. She, too, lost her father just a couple of weeks ago. She too is remembering...She too is having this day. She ends her loving tribute with these words...

"Spend time with your family people! Put down the iPads, Smart Phones, Laptops, etc. One day you will regret spending time on things that don't really matter. Our lives are shorter than you think."

     I couldn't have said it better myself. 
    (Thank you Jenniffer...I needed to hear that today.)
   
   
   
   
   

About the Blog

   

     So I hit the one year anniversary of this blog and took a few days to  reflect. I had to decide if I wanted to continue the daily episodes, after all, life has gotten really busy with goats being born round the clock and garden rows getting prepped for the spring, etc...etc... Add to this I've got a third cookbook in the works, and well, one must weigh the blog.
     To those of you who've reached out in support, I appreciate it more than you know. But having a few days off to tend to things like online traffic courses and balancing checkbooks...and well as backed up business matters like ordering more cookbooks ( yes, we've sold out of the first two...again, my heartfelt thanks. That makes 40,000 "Cores" and 15,000 "Lids" sold to date.) In short, life and all I write about requires energy and at times, my undivided attention. (Pretty interesting how they did that online traffic course. No way to turn it on and wash the dishes. They force you to sit in front of your screen for 90 minutes... Very smart on their part. Been a long time since I've done that. I don't even watch a movie without a bunch of ironing in front of me.)
     But I digress...Let me take a moment to talk about blogging.
     As you may have discovered, there is no instant way to comment at the point of the blog; instead you can reach me through Facebook, and here's why that is. Given the task I set out to achieve (ie. blog everyday for a year, which I almost made, minus a few days here and there) there is no way to go back and check in a timely manner each time someone comments as the archives are growing. You go back and respond to something 6 months old and I'm bound to miss it. Because the only gene stronger than my writing gene is my people-pleasing gene, I opted not to be rude. Ignoring your comments would be rude. On the other hand, responding to every comment on every blog for 360-something days would be impossible. So we turned that feature off for now until I have someone to manage it. (Time management being the biggest challenge to blog responding.)
     No sooner had I announced to the world (i.e.  my 29 Facebook friends) that I was going to do it~ I was going to follow the Julie/Julia model and blog my way through a year about first time farming experiences, my web girl quit. (It wasn't me blogging that scared her, she had a bigger project before her. It was a time thing.) But the way it timed out for me is I got a fast tutorial in how to insert a blog into a template (title here/content there) and that was it. I'm not techy on a good day, but I got that much mastered and the rest is just there. I haven't a clue who reads it; how many.... I haven't once seen the following. I just keep writing. (Remember Forest Gump with his long beard and smiley T-shirt? That's me with the blog. Write Karlen Write. Like Gump, it's not the destination, it's the journey. Counting hits, keeping up with the analytics, that's a numbers thing and we all know how I feel about numbers. Perhaps I someday I should have someone take a look. For now, I'm blogging for the sake of blogging (what a concept). Now, 380-some-odd blogs later, I'm weighing if it's worth it.
     And the answer is (drumroll please) for me, yes it is. It is very much worth it. If you want to be a better writer, you write. If you want to be a better farmer, you farm. The Nike folks nailed when they swooshed us with "Just Do It" as that's what this is all about...It's me... doing it. And for this reason, alone I shall continue.
     My thanks for your feedback (that which does get to me). Thanks to those of you who've found something inspiring to get you through your day, your pain, your loss... for that is my wish. Everyday is not a piece of cake on a farm. It's fun showing pictures of playful pups and newborn kids, but it's no fun at all to show things like goat afterbirth or C-section stitches or even death, but blogging allows me to share the rest of story by painting a picture when showing one would be too crass.  And perhaps more important yet, it helps me to process it in real time my own feelings, frustrations and emotions as I live this life chapter, so decision made: the blog shall go on.
   

Counting Goats

My thanks to Addison and Olivia who this week were here for the count!

     Whoever came up with the notion that counting sheep could cure insomnia was obviously not a shepherd.  I can think of no more wake-inducing exercise than counting and recounting your flock as we do on a nightly basis around here...(and several times throughout the day). Let the count be off by one and you'll be doing anything BUT sleeping... I can't imagine falling asleep without a final count of the babies before hitting the hay...Come to think of it, (and I had not put this together before now, but) I AM sleeping better these days.
     For starters, the new evening ritual removes things like mindless television from the mix. As if that's not a good thing, there's nothing like a last breath of fresh air to help clear your lungs and mind. On top of this, there's a touch of exercise involved just suiting up and walking to the barn with dogs dodging and wanting to play...That's got to be good for you, right?
    So we've got nature...We've got movement...We've got minimal electronics, save for the phone I keep with me at all times both for emergencies, but more so to capture that last cute something that someone's bound to do before I retire. I can count on it. (I'm not sure where that Verizon cloud is, but mine is full of goat pictures floating somewhere in space. Heaven help the alien who stumbles upon THAT little greeting card from earth!)
     The best part is, we've got adorable..in spades. We've got cute coming out our ears, so much so that many times I wind up back in the house only to find I've lost two hours to nothing but hugging, holding, singing to and laughing at my adorable kids in their element.
     As if all this weren't bonus enough, for once I can honestly say I like math, for adding the sum of my goats last thing each night allows me to ratchet down both left and right hemispheres of my brain simultaneously, which beatsTylenol PM or Sleepy Time tea any day.
     Yes, I can recommend it highly. Want a decent night's sleep? All you need is a flashlight, a romper, a little time and a bunch of baby goats and furry, white dogs to hug.
     Hardest part is remembering how many goats we have on any given day, but this too, we have now resolved. (It's called a white board. Why we didn't think of this sooner, I'll never know.)

A Day in the Life . . .

   

It all begins like this...

    Weekend or weekday, it matters not when you live on a farm. Critters gotta eat; chores don't wait and new projects mean you grab your meetings when you can nab the person you need for the project de jure, which today meant starting my day romping around all over the place with fence-builder, Danny.
     Helps to know your wire from your mesh, your non-climb from your woven when it comes to goats as these little critters love nothing more than rubbing on fences to scratch the places they can't reach with their built-in back scratchers, (otherwise known as horns).
     And why do we need more fencing when we have such a wonderful fence already? Because soon and very soon we have to get Heffner away from his daughters. (Insert Tennessee redneck joke here.) What's more, even my baby boys must be tended to, as they can start breeding as early as 8 weeks. (There's a reason for that expression about goats, and no, it has nothing to do with the horns on his head. These are one of the breeding'est animals on God's green earth~ When visiting a goat farm it helps to have explained the facts of life to your child in advance as watching goats "ride piggyback" is something I'll leave for you to explain in your car ride home.)

Little Miss Abby and Shannon Goat!

     For the record Pygmies range anywhere between 45 - 80 pounds full grown and given my girls lean toward the lighter end of that spectrum, we are now in search of a smaller buck for the generation just born. (Sorry Heff, but there'll always be Blackie, Cupid, Donner and Elsie... Just need to keep you away from the rest, you stinky little buck!)
     Having laid out plans for interior fencing (for buck separating purposes), electric fencing (for garden-prep purposes) and an entirely separate fenced off back lot (for a different breed of goat--stay tuned!), we'll soon be on our way with expansion plans for "GoatsRUs!" (Meaning get ready FFA'ers;  the internship program is in the works!)
     The rest of the day was spent snapping pics for a project we're soon to announce~ (With faces like the, we just can't resist, so we called in the troops and made a day of things...It was all Pygmies...all  Pyrs...all day long!)
     Life doesn't get much better than this.