Daily Farmhouse Journal

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May
13

Could we just have ONE rooster?

We think we’ve picked one out. He’s got a more overtly pronounced comb growth.

He’s very proud.

See how his comb growth is more pronounced than the others?

Lucky accepted her likely new female role with gracious aplomb.

“I love shoes, so I’m fine with it,” she remarked. “I would like to have some watermelon lip gloss now. And maybe a sparkly purse.”

One little chick was not so pleased.

“One rooster? And you’re saying it’s NOT ME?”

“I could be one of TEN hens? How SPECIAL.”

“Heads. Will. Roll. And no, I DON’T WANT A SPARKLY PURSE.”

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Posted by Suzanne McMinn @ 5:05 am | Permalink

May
12

Daily Farmhouse Journal

….every morning….and every afternoon….this would be your two-and-a-half mile twice-daily commute.

Down the steep, steep driveway.

And out the road to the first creek crossing.

And the second creek.

And the third creek. (Relax! This is the last one! Look at the trees and squirrels and wild turkeys and birds! It’s GORGEOUS!)

Then up the hill.

By the way, occasionally you will come across another car driving in the opposite direction. Somebody is gonna have to figure out how to find room to pull over without going over a cliff. Sometimes this involves driving backward for 1/4 mile till you find a spot. Here are the rules:

1. If the other driver is a guy, he totally has to be the one to pull over.
2. Man or woman, if they have a 4wd to match your 4wd, they have to pull over.
3. If they don’t have a 4wd (aka they are from the city), you will have to pull over. But only then.

I made these rules up all by my sissy, scaredy-cat self and they are based on the fact that I am from the city. So you have to be from the city, like, fresher than me for me to pull over. How do I know? Ha. I can so tell….. Like, you’re probably not driving a 4wd. And you’re probably driving 2 miles an hour even if you are driving a 4wd cuz you don’t know that you can drive a whole 15 mph on this road. And, plus, you look more scared than me of pulling over.

And over the hill.

And down the hill.

To where the creek behaves and runs beside the road instead of in it.

To the stop sign at the intersection with the hard road. Because there is a LOT of traffic and we need to STOP.

And out the winding hard road another 1/2 mile.

To the old farmhouse where the schoolbus stops.

And this girl will stomp up to your car window and say, “You are LATE! I’ve been WAITING for you! WHY are you LATE?”

And if I were you, I would totally say, “There was a tree across the road and I had to cut it down with a nail file and organize an army of ants to carry it away on their backs one speck at a time.”