Gettin' Down And Fluffy

How to get D-o-w-n 'N FLUFFY...

Since this is a blog concerning mostly farm funnies... you may be wondering about what getting down and getting fluffy is ...

Getting Down 'N FLUFFY... is actually our Doberman, Katie's, terminology.

Katy is now 9 months old (in dog years think, late adolescent... think Jr. High age... toss in a two year old, who is teething... plus a teen thinking they are 21... TA DA!! Jr.-teen-dobie -pup!)

Lets set the stage...

Granny is doing some major cleaning. Usually this is done in the spring/fall with a burst of energy and enthusiasm. She used to be able to accomplish this in a single bound - in a single day... My, what has happened here? For Granny, major cleaning involves getting to the "bottom" of stuff, plus organizing, putting things back where they should go and of course tossing out accumulated stuff, and well, you get the drift...

Today's inspiration was neither from spring or fall. The credit goes to some rotten little critter who decided spring/fall cleaning was perhaps delayed and decided to kick things off by giving up the ghost in some inaccessible corner of things.

Now, when you live on a farm... some little (sometimes bigger) critter who is very clever sometimes gets past the cat guard (or the guards are getting too much yummy cat food to be interested in guard duty) and eventually succumbs. Usually in the most inconvenient place possible. After a while, one "discovers" they have left this planet... only in spirit (sadly)... as they have a way of letting their departed presence linger... argh!! This time it was the bedroom.

So Granny has decided on some ground-level cleaning to discover the remains and give them a more proper resting place. This involves sweeping out all the nooks and crannies and tossing what needs washing out into the hall, what needs re-filed onto the bed, and those things needing to be permanently tossed into a trash bag.

While I can't say she was merrily doing this job... she did lose track of time a bit. All the while saying things like,"Will you dogs settle down?" She thought they were using the blankets tossed into the hall for washing as a comfy cushion. Hmmmmm... NOT!!

When Granny had reached a somewhat clear spot and was thus able to unearth herself, come up for air, get a cup of coffee and let the dogs out for another run, YIKES! Not only the hall, but the entire living room had been re-carpeted. While Granny might have appreciated this, given the right format and circumstances, this was not one of those times!

Katie had discovered a fluffy pillow, just waiting for it's turn to be washed...Pillow no more!

Granny muttered to herself about her odd love for dogs, especially puppies... especially puppies with teeth!

Granny kept muttering as she sorted fluff from various chew toys (that were apparently not being chewed on in favor of feather pillows) and briefly missed her long departed heart buddy, Tigger, the love-able Irish Wolf hound who always had a mind of his own. Unfortunately, due to a bit of stubbornness,this caused him not to be dear to anyone else. Tigger always enjoyed grannies cleaning efforts and even had a way of gratefully acknowledging the cleaning and fluffing of his bed. (Perhaps that is one reason Granny loved him so. During that time, it seemed there wasn't another soul under the same roof who was grateful... three teens, hormones and hubby with midlife stresses, yikes!) With the help of Tigger, Granny survived. Thank you, God, for dogs. (Well, for kids and hubbies too, and maybe even for hormones and mid-life stresses... Now that they are over... And yes, even for dear, pillow-shredding Katies, who are still growing...)

So now the fluff is cleaned up, the blankets are blowing in the breeze on the clothes line, and the pillows that survived the "fluffing" are outside sunning as well. Katie is napping, some hay has gone to the horses, the bedroom cleaning still needs to be finished and now this fluffy story is ending...

May you have a really fluffy day, not with pillow fluff, but one with warm billows of love from friends and family... Especially if you have teething two-year-olds, teens, raging hormones, midlife stresses, or pillow-fluffing puppies!

Hay, Hay, Hay... Up, Up, And Away...

Today is a hay day...

Exactly what is a hay day ???

Well for starters, it's good if it isn't raining. Whether you are making hay (which we do not) or if you are hauling it (which we do), rain isn't a welcome element.

It used to start with a hearty breakfast, and enthusiasm from (at least Granny...)

Today, it started with a balanced breakfast shake (as the One-Eyed Pirate and Granny are close to their weight loss goals).



Granny moved ,as Granddaughter Jacqui would say a lotta lotta hay by herself this summer. The resident one eyed pirate, had surgery this summer so when the hay needed moving.who ya gonna call....Granny...and her faithful following. Now mind you this faithful following did not move even an ounce of hay...unless you count the strands Katie would pull out of the bales as Granny rolled cajoled lumped and bumped them into a wheelbarrow to take off the trailer, before she could roll ,cajole,lump and bump them into their "place" under cover for winter...Katie loves to grab a mouthful and play tug of war with it when Granny moves them...YIKES says Granny you almost trip me sometimes....



Granny finished her alloted bales for the current day (she declared 10 to be her limit ,at her age for one day,,mind you these varmints weigh about 120lbs now...why one might wonder, especially when they weighed about 60 lbs when Granny was young enough to do such stuff...

Well let me tell you ...the one eyed pirate, clever he may be ,had reasoned that if he got bigger bales Granny would retire from such maneuvers...Did he figure the only remaining farm hand would need to move them when he and his mighty buddyJohn Deer would or could not ????

(clue...NOPE) um mm try both the Pirate and John Deer had more than their fair share of "down"time this summer....Granny kind of gives John Deer a glare and a sigh as she walks past him , with her hand weed whacker and clippers and wheel barrow. The rascal and his cohorts the brush cutter and tiller lounge in the grass taking a "vacation".....ugh says Granny......



Back to the hay day ..that Granny said made her day....With the last bale for the day snuggled to its restful spot Granny promptly sat down atop the lofty stack and was viewing her little kingdom., when ..up comes Casper( her sons fun loving boxer), Roo the wonder dog and what's this Katie is trying to slug her way up the stack...she hasn't quite figured out how to jump up so she tries to slither, umm this doesn't work very well for dogs, but Granny did get a good laugh. Then Granny realizes her faithful following ,were all going to join her, up came the kitties and the turkeys were not far behind and even the swans had waddled over for a peek at what was going on..so the peaceful moment on top of her little kingdom had to end, but only after a lot of heartwarming laughter at how everyone wanted to join her, what next thought Granny the bees...yikes not the jackets,,,go away I say !!!!!



Hay Hay Hay it's off and away, we will come again another day (tomorrow !!!)

Little Mud Ducks

Why do ducks make mud????

I mean you give them nice clean water, and in a relatively short period of time they will have a puddle of mud...

"Have some mud with your water my dears?"

Sure, don't mind if we do... Some for us, some for Granny...

"Yikes... No thanks! Here let me give you some fresh water instead..."

And so we have mud. Mud, mud, mud... here and there and everywhere... I love mud when it is in the form of clay for creating some new ceramic creature. I love mud when I am making a mud pie with a favorite, friend (albeit a wee one, as most of the friends I have now would never deign to think of mud as fun...) I love mud, when a dear granddaughter transforms hers into a cup of "chocolate soup", her favorite, I am told... I "sip" some of the luscious chocolate soup down... and am ready for another cup :-)

I miss the muddy footprints of longtime heart buddies, gone to critter heaven. I miss the little muddy boots sitting in the hall. Yes, little boots are replaced by big boots, and then they are no more. Is the home cleaner without the advent of all that mud? No... just quieter, and at times emptier.

So, if you are reading this, enjoy the mud from your little ones borrowed or birthed, be they four-legged and furry or two-legged, cute and clever. They are all on loan to us, and before you know it, they will be gone.

Find ways to teach great things about life in everyday situations to the two-legged ones. Both the two-legged ones and the four-legged ones will often teach you. Two of my favorite bible verses, "The little foxes steal the grapes... Do not try to get away with even little things..." God knows it all.

Teach your little ones little things in every-day ways. It is in the daily living of life that, one truly learns to live. Head knowledge of the more lofty concepts, more complex ideas, more "elegant" service while good, can get in the way of real living, real doing, real knowing.

Do we know something, or do we live it?

And, are we passionate while living it?

My little mud ducks are very passionate about making mud... on a daily basis... every chance they get. They thrill in fresh water, quickly converting it to mud. This morning as I muse on mud, things that have gotten muddy, and muddy footprints of times past, I remember the importance of being passionate about the daily living of life.

May you have some mud musings of your own, about your own life. Take time to enjoy your little ones. Whether they are still glorying in the joys of making mud, or grown and gone...

Slow down, enjoy life. Make time to have a cup of that "chocolate soup" today. Too hard? You could always get a pair of mud ducks to help you!

BLUE VICTORY

Blue, Blue, Blue...

The gray dusk was turning into shades of darker gray, blue, darker blue, nearly black. I was having a bit of a respite, sitting in one of our outdoor swivel rockers. As I sat, I watched the kittens catch make believe mice, or perhaps grasshoppers, given the way they were jumping about. The dogs were alternating between running around and chewing on a bit of leather chewy bone. I was enjoying just watching everyone. Our young Doberman, Katie, much like an adolescent child, was enjoying every last minute she could squeeze out of the remainder of the day.

As I flick my attention from one critter to the other, I slowly realize there is another presence. It was a real pleasure to note his stately appearance as he settled in for the night... for numerous reasons.

First, it showed growth for me. That I was able to sit and do NOTHING for a few minutes... often I've learned much in the nothing times of life. Here again, after a flurry of "stuff" I am finally still. And I learn. I am reminded of the verse, "Be still and know that I am God..." It is during those times when we can be nothing, do nothing, think nothing, that we can really focus on God's greatness.

Second, I realize I am seeing again, sometimes we forget how to see especially when we are so busy looking. Just stop and feel. It is then that we can see....that's how I noticed....him.

There he was, fluffing his night attire, sitting on a dead yet lofty branch, and watching us...
Wasn't it just a few months ago, that we would hear our dog, Roo, decidedly warning us of some imminent danger about this time in the evening? As we sought to investigate, we would hear a whole dialogue of disgruntled bird words, about being disturbed. But we saw nothing as the great bird settled for the night and decidedly protested the rantings of a yapping dog. On this went night after night...

The Great Blue Heron would just get comfy, and Roo would notice him with barking protests outrage over anyone not being in his "proper" place. We would investigate, and Mr. Heron would very loudly object to the disturbance (herons, by the way, posess rather loud, squawky, and mangled sounding objections).

When did we become accustomed to one another? When did we adjust to each other? I can't rightly remember, but tonight as I sat and was still, I noticed....

A quiet, Blue Victory.

Well, he was a blue heron after all, so most assuredly the victory was his. Thus victory must have been blue.