Come Out, Come Out Wherever You Are

“Come on out and get some fresh air,” I said. “It’s just a little snow.”

“How do we know it won’t kill us,” she asked?

“It’s only snow, it won’t hurt you. Look, other birds have been out in it and you don’t see any dead birds laying around do you,” I asked?

She then turned and screamed “It’s a flesh eating virus! Run! Hide!”

Something tells me it’s going to be a long winter.

Hugs. Did You Know You Could Mail Them?

My Sister-In-Law, Cathy, is battling cancer. She has been having a rough time of it lately and really needed a hug, only she lives over 2000 miles away. So I knit her a prayer shawl, boxed it up and sent it on it’s way.

Now she can wrap herself up in a hug any time she needs it. Love you, Cathy.

I Know You Thought I Was Joking…

but she really does want an I-pad for Christmas.

They’ve Got… Personality

Sophia. My beautiful Sophia. Head sheep in charge. The most affectionate of the flock. Would stand and be petted for hours on end.

Small but mighty Shirley. She takes a licking but keeps on ticking. While the other girls head butt her and each other she sneaks in and gobbles up all the corn. Enjoys a quick scratch on the chin if there is food involved.

Rose. What is there to say about Rose? She’s always true to her character. Perhaps not the brightest of the bunch, but makes up for it with lovability.

Laverne. Shirley’s sidekick. Distant but warming up now that she has discovered the joy of cookies. Would like affection but doesn’t want to fight the other girls for it. Willing to stand in the shadows.

Dorothy. Sophia’s sidekick. Scared of her own shadow. Doesn’t want to be touched, but likes her cookies. Loves to kick up her heals and act goofy. Often seen bouncing across the pasture.

Blanche. Cookie monster. Love machine. Has no concept of personal space. Very independent. Would like to take on Sophia as Head Sheep in Charge someday

Like children, they are all as different as can be yet I love them all the same.

Dear Santa,

I am writing on behalf of the critters here on Front Porch Indiana Farm. I can personally attest that they have all been relatively good this year. I would recommend that most of their Christmas wishes be granted. Some, I’m not so sure about.

Of course, as usual, the dogs just want bones.

The sheep, however, would like some nice fuzzy legwarmers. Seems they have been watching What Not to Wear and believe the legwarmers will help balance their figures.

The chickens would like some snow shoes. Preferably something of a flip-flop nature that they can slip on and off at the door. Old One-Eyed Calico Jack also asked for a map to Florida, but I’m not suggesting that as a good idea. Nothing good could come of it.

The goats were very specific in requesting one-way tickets back to Nigeria where it is warm; but if that is out of the question, they would settle for some raincoats.

And finally, the cat would like an I-pad and an online subscription to The Wall Street Journal.

Rise and Shine!

It’s time for chores, want to come along? Okay, but bundle up, it’s going to be cold out there. 

“Good morning, Willa. Time for breakfast.”

“Hello goats. How are you this morning? No, I don’t have any cookies.”

“It’s time for your breakfast.”

“Good morning, Ladies. How are my favorite sheep today? No, I don’t have any cookies.”

“Breakfast is served.”

“Good morning, chickens. No, it’s not toxic waste. It’s just snow.”

“Come and get it.”

It just occurred to me, I don’t run a hobby farm. I run a bed and breakfast. Come back later and you can help me with their turn-down service.

Dear Mr. Donaldson,

I felt compelled to write and let you know that I have finally found a use for the algebra equations you taught us in ninth grade. I am sure you recall my telling you, “It will be a cold day in Hell before I will ever use algebra.” You will be pleased to know that it is a brisk 10 degrees outside today. You see, I decided to knit a sock. Not just any sock, but one custom-fitted to my foot.

I first picked out my yarn and needles and then sat down with the instructor to start knitting. Imagine my surprise when she starting writing down an algebraic equation to determine how many stitches I would need to cast on. I shouted, “Get out! That’s algebra!” To which she gave me a startled look as if to say, “Well, yeah, duh” and the other students actually had to shield their eyes from the brightness of the light bulb that had blinked on over my head.

Oh sure, I’ve done mental math to figure things out all my life. I’ve even designed things like buildings and spent several years in drafting class. But I honest to goodness, during all the 27 years since your class, had never made the connection between the equations you made us copy over and over and over on paper to an actual practical purpose. Ever.

So I am writing to suggest that from now on, you ask your students to knit socks. Just think of how much of a difference it could have made in my life. I might have been a rocket scientist or a brain surgeon.

Okay, maybe not, but you know what I mean.