tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56274241147350833002024-02-19T01:38:39.716-05:00hayseeds and horsefeathershayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.comBlogger136125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-56941086261554233402009-11-11T09:00:00.003-05:002009-11-11T09:12:21.790-05:00my bags are packed..<div><br /></div><div>...I'm ready to go. </div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2470/4095533562_1c90e9c989.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 398px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2470/4095533562_1c90e9c989.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>Not really. These are just some vintage suitcases I found, on which I stuck 'famous hotel' stickers. They used to reside in my son's room, but they were really only dust catchers (along with so many other things), so I've decided to put them away, and maybe one day I'll have a garage sale and get rid of them then. </div><div><br /></div><div> Not really. I'll never have a garage sale, I only pretend I will, because it makes me sound organized and highly functioning. I'm all about impressing people. Well, not really.</div><div><br /></div><div>On to more serious mattters:</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2733/4095545574_ac11b60983.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 363px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2733/4095545574_ac11b60983.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>A picture of my poor little remembrance day poppy, which either falls off whatever I'm wearing, or which I forget to pin onto whatever I'm wearing. Anyway, it's just a simple little symbol which prevents us from forgetting to remember. Don't forget to remember today. It's important.</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-50711188595322826002009-11-09T10:15:00.003-05:002009-11-09T10:23:53.680-05:00warm<div><br /></div><div>It's really warm here folks! Despite the foggy dreamy morning we had on Sunday, the weather was warm and windless and perfect. No clouds.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2675/4089933160_066958ba12.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2675/4089933160_066958ba12.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2632/4089926236_8b2fe920e2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2632/4089926236_8b2fe920e2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>We were able to spend time playing with horses and dirtbikes and kids.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2583/4089922294_e7c6dc8649.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2583/4089922294_e7c6dc8649.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Even if you woke up on Sunday determined to be a serious crankpot, you couldn't help but sneak a few smiles (privately, of course). </div><div><br /></div><div>I hope you had a good weekend!</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-88324357695568146112009-11-06T11:02:00.007-05:002009-11-06T11:14:17.041-05:00more november<div><br /></div><div>What is that strange light emanating from the sky....could it be? Yes, sunshine. Had to grab the dogs and head for a cool, foot-soaking, windless walk.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3501/4080769452_585eff73bd.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3501/4080769452_585eff73bd.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2741/4080747858_d3ba53ba3b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2741/4080747858_d3ba53ba3b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2669/4079992285_d516858c0b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2669/4079992285_d516858c0b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3531/4080754204_fd42f87bae.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3531/4080754204_fd42f87bae.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2700/4080002671_417a12e75c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2700/4080002671_417a12e75c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2746/4080014177_5d8e7aeef5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2746/4080014177_5d8e7aeef5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Have a great weekend :)hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-46452092959359360522009-11-05T10:06:00.003-05:002009-11-05T10:13:48.962-05:00something simple<div><br /></div><div>I've been known to post some less-than-stellar photos here, and this one is no exception. I just could not get a good shot for love nor money.</div><div><br /></div><div>It does serve to illustrate a simple idea, though. I'd been saving pretty soap and candle wrappers, thinking I'd find a good use for them someday. And here it is:</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2571/4078084944_304d1f66db.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2571/4078084944_304d1f66db.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>I framed them in inexpensive white Ikea frames and hung them in my newly-painted bathroom. Once you start using nice soaps it's hard to stop, but now you can justify the cost to yourself if you end up using them as artwork. </div><div><br /></div><div>Must go now, to straighten the slightly wonky frames and read my camera manual. Have a great day.</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-83356166654282600942009-11-02T13:20:00.007-05:002009-11-02T13:35:13.820-05:00november<div><br /></div><div>I always think of the colours of november as being greys and browns.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2709/4069374882_f009c0216e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 350px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2709/4069374882_f009c0216e.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2772/4069337874_a5d2ca747b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2772/4069337874_a5d2ca747b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2494/4068601221_2f43db81dd.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2494/4068601221_2f43db81dd.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>(Actually that last one was late summer, but it has a novemberish vibe, don't you think?).<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Around here, things are taking on a really russet hue. Gone are the blazing colours and vibrant blue skies of October (and those dark mornings, thank goodness).....</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2495/4068607511_1f70340b16.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2495/4068607511_1f70340b16.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3488/4069343798_4192d07c30.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3488/4069343798_4192d07c30.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2714/4068593983_cbfdfeacff.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2714/4068593983_cbfdfeacff.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Oh well, this guy is always russet, but he whispered to me that he was feeling alittle novemberish today, so I included him. Novemberish. You know, in between, enjoying the fading beauty, while at the same time hunkering down for a long (but mild, please, dear Lord) winter. I have a feeling it will be a great month!</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-60045899857796964252009-11-01T12:15:00.004-05:002009-11-01T12:20:12.529-05:00made to order<div><br /></div><div>Yesterday was tailor-made: a windy, wet, howling day which then settled into a drippy, dreary full-mooned evening.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3515/4065002146_350085d275.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3515/4065002146_350085d275.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2458/4064246831_c2abf989e9.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2458/4064246831_c2abf989e9.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Fun (and chocolate) was had by all.hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-38876041316758382772009-10-30T10:18:00.006-04:002009-10-30T10:30:17.449-04:00red skies in the morning<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2691/4058443638_b377db7550.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2691/4058443638_b377db7550.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>...mean you must take warning....</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2693/4057701095_627521bdee.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2693/4057701095_627521bdee.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>....because before you know it, the skies turn grey.....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2511/4058435364_3a731bb2a0.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2511/4058435364_3a731bb2a0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>....and you must hurry to catch the last of the gold.....</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2607/4058430982_a83fc789db.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2607/4058430982_a83fc789db.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>.....before it's all gone...</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2763/4057686287_9f43c9c023.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2763/4057686287_9f43c9c023.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>*this post sponsored by the Excessive Use of Certain Types of Punctuation Society........</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-28360164852894656702009-10-29T11:29:00.005-04:002009-10-29T11:36:57.482-04:00oh hi<div><br /></div><div>Hey, where has October gone? Or for that matter, September?</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3038/4055966234_d37b7dd36c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3038/4055966234_d37b7dd36c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>I haven't posted in ages, and I don't really have an explanation for it-(except both my boys had the flu-and both are fine now, thanks).</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2607/4055961532_57218f9b51.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2607/4055961532_57218f9b51.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>I thought you would be more receptive to my lack of explanation if I posted a few horse and dog photos.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2488/4050986358_f8f6b59870.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2488/4050986358_f8f6b59870.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Because those always make everything better.</div></div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-79393010720594697052009-09-24T11:18:00.005-04:002009-09-24T11:30:07.995-04:00blue<div><br /></div><div>Oh, it's not that I'm feeling blue or anything....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2436/3950886404_faafcc18cb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2436/3950886404_faafcc18cb.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>I'm just loving all different shades of blue right now.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2608/3950877784_75963f40d7.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2608/3950877784_75963f40d7.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>It must be all of those autumnal skies.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2554/3950104221_af003c7a5f.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 357px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2554/3950104221_af003c7a5f.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>It has to be the right blue though...you'll know it when you see it.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2515/3950101143_ed576d78b3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2515/3950101143_ed576d78b3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-54325483301468266652009-09-22T13:41:00.006-04:002009-09-22T20:45:55.666-04:00for those with soft hearts<div><br /></div><div>My husband grew up in the country, and as such, he isn't very sentimental about our animals. To him, they serve a purpose. Dogs are for guarding the property, and alerting us to anyone coming in the long laneway, and for an overall sense of security in this somewhat remote place. And also to keep the coyotes away from the horses. Cats are for rodent control, and other than that, he doesn't really feel they have a purpose. He does enjoy the horses, but doesn't really spend that much time grooming and fussing over them.</div><div><br /></div><div>He doesn't talk 'baby talk' to the dogs, doesn't kiss the kitty and carry her around while rubbing her belly, doesn't coo to the horses and tell them how sweet they are. That's what I do. He does do one thing, though, which gives away his soft heart.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3528/3945356292_d82eb1eea8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3528/3945356292_d82eb1eea8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>He is our resident bird and small animal rescuer. Ma nature is often cruel, and out here there seems to be a steady supply of birds pushed out of nests, and little creatures (mostly bunnies) separated from their mothers (usually because the dogs have nabbed them and carried them away).</div><div><br /></div><div>My approach is to carry the animal to safety and then let nature take its course. The animals usually don't make it, and our success rate in the past has been something like 1%. My husband, however, always takes action, which usually involves intervention in the form of food, water, some sort of cardboard box, towels, and internet research to make sure he's done everything he can (with the enthusiastic assistance of the kids). He once built a splint for a baby blue jay out of a popsicle stick. He then called animal control to come and fetch the bird from a town one half-hour away. I still tease him about it.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3504/3945360310_14200f623f.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3504/3945360310_14200f623f.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Here's his latest rescue. This birdie made it-I hope it has a long and happy life.</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-63850409989235946782009-09-16T08:53:00.003-04:002009-09-16T08:59:28.645-04:00a (slightly) different perspective<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2553/3926060670_7afebb0dd2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2553/3926060670_7afebb0dd2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>I know this looks like all of my other 'field' pictures, but actually, it's taken from the end of the back field, looking towards the house. You know, sometimes it's good to look at things from the other side, to take the long view, get a different perspective...It seems that today is cliche day at H&H....hey, a girl's gotta enjoy her field while she can. Have a great wednesday :)</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-89709898965622560822009-09-11T08:53:00.003-04:002009-09-11T09:10:10.153-04:00field of possibilities<div><br /></div><div>Earlier in the summer, what looked like this:</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2463/3909653724_d9f81cc7c1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2463/3909653724_d9f81cc7c1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>now looks like this:</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2492/3909656040_f9c26dfa52.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2492/3909656040_f9c26dfa52.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>The farmers who lease our land (or the FWLOL) have harvested the grain from the back field. I don't know what kind it was- not wheat, we had that last year. I'm hoping that this time they do not plow up the field before winter. It's so great to have that flat espanse, it feels just like an extension of our lawn. </div><div><br /></div><div>Just think, we'll be able to go dirt biking (or trail biking even), ride our horses, maybe even let our dusty old cross-country skis see the light of day. Or we could just run out really far, and twirl around while looking up at the sky (you know, Julie Andrews-style -like in The Sound of Music)...OR we could get a sleigh and hitch Sadie up to it, and give people rides in the snow while they cozy up under a fur throw (note to self-check craigslist for sleighs and fur throws).</div><div><br /></div><div>OK, getting a little carried away, but it feels like we've reclaimed the back field for our own use (at least for a while, hopefully longer).</div><div><br /></div><div>Have a wonderful mellow weekend-I must go, I have the sudden urge to run out in the field, while twirling around with my hands up in the air a la Julie Andrews... before the FWLOL's get to thinking about plowing up this lovely flat field....where did I put that skirt and apron?! :)</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-19978373559670380092009-09-10T11:12:00.005-04:002009-09-10T11:31:04.951-04:00it's for the frogs<div><br /></div><div>I know we're very lucky to have a pool at our place. It's a 'country' pool, though, and plainer and humbler than its sparkling chlorine-redolent city cousins. This is the time of year when we wage a losing battle against the leaves, and it becomes time to close it up for the season.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2480/3906348957_7054a8e736.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 500px; " src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2480/3906348957_7054a8e736.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>For some reason, I was in charge of its upkeep this rainy summer, and I can't say I was particularly brilliant at it. I don't think trying to wrestle it away from mysterious cloudy states with various strange chemicals and growing championship amounts of algae would qualify me as a decent pool caretaker. I have, however, become an expert at rescuing frogs and toads, and the odd rodent (some were beyond rescue). And hey, did you know that teeny baby field mice can swim? well they can.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3548/3906345263_2487eab6ab.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3548/3906345263_2487eab6ab.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>There have been summers where you would have been able to find us swimming and frolicking at all times of the day. But in this summer of rain (and algae) it was mostly for the frogs.</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-36699581048201290162009-09-08T09:03:00.004-04:002009-09-08T09:15:08.279-04:00back to school<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2456/3899628235_17c6b52a37.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2456/3899628235_17c6b52a37.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>With the yellow leaves fluttering down, we rush around gathering new shoes, backpacks, supplies, haircuts, hopes. We note with amazement and pride how tall they have grown. Time for one last swim, long bike ride, ice cream cone. It helps, you know, to keep those fluttery back-to-school butterflies calm in the belly. Bittersweet back-to-school time. So long summer, hello fresh start. Everyone's getting straight A's this year, right? :) !!hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-51327437779928801082009-08-27T21:56:00.005-04:002009-08-27T22:35:53.827-04:00late summer garden<div><br /></div><div>My daughter is growing gigantic sunflowers in a bid to win the 'biggest head' in the sunflower category at the county fair. The competition is pretty stiff, and even though she researched giant sunflower seeds, ordered them from some obscure catalogue, planted them early, watered, fed and lovingly cuddled them in her arms while crooning ancient plant-growing ballads, and transplanted them under a full moon, I don't think she'll win.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3474/3863101115_6376330161.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3474/3863101115_6376330161.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>The problem is, first they had to grow about seven feet tall. Then, about two weeks ago, teeny tiny heads began to appear, and so far, they only look to be regular-sized. Perhaps with sheer luck and a blast of sunshine, they might grow to be gigantic heads. But I highly doubt it.</div><div><br /></div><div>My tomatoes, on the other hand, are doing quite well. There has been a blight which has killed many local tomatoes, but mine have escaped. I'd like to think that this was due to my sharply honed and refined gardening skills, but I'd be lying. Mostly I think it was due to an overabundance of horse manure-which is magical stuff by the way. But I don't want to be seen as bragging too much about my tomatoes.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2528/3863862436_57e2324b73.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2528/3863862436_57e2324b73.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>Because I mostly want to brag about these:</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2499/3863873190_90851387a2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2499/3863873190_90851387a2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Never have I produced such an abundance of large butternut squash. We'll be eating those 'till we turn orange, I suppose. Can't wait.</div><div><br /></div><div>Every summer is a gamble, in terms of vegetable-growing pursuits, isn't it? Ah well, it's not about the glory of winning the giant head competition, or the fabulous eight-dollar prize (yes, that's right, eight big ones-and I think cost of admission is twelve). It's about seeing how much edible stuff you can grow with a minimal amount of effort and and healthy dose of neglect. I'm surprised every year.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2520/3863880764_4d7b5a6cf2.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 333px; height: 500px; " src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2520/3863880764_4d7b5a6cf2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-12096372279435166902009-08-26T19:15:00.004-04:002009-08-26T19:33:26.220-04:00porch paint<div><br /></div><div>Well, we've had a DICKENS of a time trying to paint all of our exterior trim and porches this summer (and by 'we', I mean my husband). It seems that it rains every day, at least a little. Nevertheless, things are starting to shape up (slowly) around here.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3479/3860636308_cb2d44e174.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3479/3860636308_cb2d44e174.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>I do love wooden porches and columns on old houses, especially when they're freshly painted and gleaming, but it's very time-consuming to do all of this maintenance. It's all fine and good to be a purist about things, but I have decided that synthetic materials are just swell, and that one's time in the summer can be better spent on leisure activities, rather than in the service of keeping this old white elephant of a place looking spiffy.</div><div> </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2610/3860640174_f672a71e3e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2610/3860640174_f672a71e3e.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3479/3860636308_cb2d44e174.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"></a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3479/3860636308_cb2d44e174.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">My next house will have a completely maintenance-free exterior, if I have anything to do with it. And metal-clad exterior windows, instead of wood. Live and learn. <br /></span></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3479/3860636308_cb2d44e174.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><br /></a></span></div></span><br /></div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-59285555191762974102009-08-24T12:56:00.007-04:002009-08-25T10:55:59.327-04:00the un-summer<div><br /></div><div>Do you know the writer Alice Hoffman? She writes in a very lyrical, poetic way and her books usually employ magical realism. Flowers grow or shrivel at alarming rates, turn colours, etc..., people speak like birds, sometimes pebbles or fish appear in their pockets-well, you get the idea. It's quite entrancing.</div><div><br /></div><div>The summer that wasn't (i.e. THIS summer), has made me feel a little bit like I'm living in an Alice Hoffman novel (or maybe a gentle version of one). Endless rain and thunderous, dramatic clouds. Wind storms tearing the roofs off houses in certain parts of the province. Puny vegetables. The grass growing so quickly we can almost hear it. Swarms of insects. Bats.</div><div><br /></div><div>And other things too.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3495/3852287593_a3c1b83966.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3495/3852287593_a3c1b83966.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>My husband was coming home late one evening and saw this unusual phenomenon over the bridge in the neighbouring town. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2462/3852293547_3288486d3d.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2462/3852293547_3288486d3d.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>There were clouds of insects around the streetlights, and the bridge was covered with piles of bug carcasses, enough to make the bridge slick and slippery, and looking for all the world like snow. Creepy mysterious summer snow.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2539/3853090460_30036294b3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2539/3853090460_30036294b3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>Closeup of bug carcasses. Maybe someone knows what kind these are.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2450/3852303817_9f790ab14c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2450/3852303817_9f790ab14c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>A shadow shot of my intrepid reporters (see how white the pavement appears?). </div><div><br /></div><div>Because sometimes we all need a break from flowers, cats and horses.</div><div><br /></div><div>And now, back to regular programming.</div><div><br /></div><div>P.S. If you haven't read Alice Hoffman, give her a try. You won't regret it. Her books are not without humour-of the black variety, of course!</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-88199581365080367392009-08-11T09:23:00.002-04:002009-08-11T09:37:34.594-04:00Daisy in the garden<div>This is my cat Daisy, enjoying the flowers in the garden.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2639/3810789799_cc91048d43.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2639/3810789799_cc91048d43.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>She may look mild-mannered and sweet, but in actual fact, she is a fierce and single-minded hunter. Daisy has no time for niceties such as cuddling and purring. Eat. Sleep. Hunt. Those are her main objectives, and anyone interfering with that should WATCH OUT. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have tried to keep a count of the rodents she has caught so far this season (or the pieces of them I find on the porch every morning). So far? Daisy's summer mouse count: 42. Well done, my furry friend. May you hunt for many more seasons.</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-64892242216794014042009-08-05T13:32:00.014-04:002009-08-06T10:18:16.739-04:00around town<div><br /></div><div>My little town, which has all of two traffic lights, celebrated its sesquicentennial this summer (150-year anniversary). The celebrations (which included a beard-growing contest and a parade) were quite well-attended. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3495/3792936268_45ef7f2fd1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3495/3792936268_45ef7f2fd1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>This unassuming river-side town isn't grand by any stretch of the imagination, but if you make a little effort you can find some pretty spots.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2556/3792113707_497639b8bc.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2556/3792113707_497639b8bc.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>This historic building adjoins the courthouse and was once used as the residence of the local jailer. I think it is used for office space today. The old stone jailyard was actually open today (a couple of police cruisers and a van were there). I suppose the old jail is still used as a 'holding cell' for people having their criminal cases heard. I'm guessing they're not appreciating the pretty landscaping and well-maintained building.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3553/3792942766_2c2b72b3ef.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3553/3792942766_2c2b72b3ef.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>This is a detail of a building in town which used to house medical offices, a bank and a drugstore in the 1890's. I love the shingle detail, and the little louvered window.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3535/3792921390_399618231a.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3535/3792921390_399618231a.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>Here's a gazebo in the town square. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2553/3792917900_3beb4a581e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2553/3792917900_3beb4a581e.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>This town is a modest, quiet place, and generally known for a speedway at its edge, and the fact that the residents tend to wear rubber boots (it is a farming comunity after all). I prefer to think of it as a place with a strong sense of community and a comfortable, peaceful place to live. (Sort of like that well-worn pair of leather shoes you've had for fifteen years, but just can't part with). <br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></div></div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-41359736303092875642009-08-04T11:29:00.004-04:002009-08-04T11:57:52.788-04:00seeing<div><br /></div><div>Here's the problem with 'staycationing': you don't get to see your everyday surroundings with 'fresh eyes'. The 'fresh eyes' phenomenon occurs when you have been away for a good while, traveling or vacationing. Upon your return, you realize how lovely your surroundings truly are, how comfortable and homey your home is, how sweet your pets.</div><div><br /></div><div>And so, lately, all I've been seeing is a lot of green (from all of the rain), and all of the chores that still need doing. I'm just not appreciatin'.</div><div><br /></div><div>However. Sometimes you notice something new. New is good. These flowers are wild, and they look sort of like bee balm. I'd never noticed them before....they gave me pause, and a moment of enjoyment.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7L2xpJcjIV9JLb97ZhgRYyHHv2kNvYPrNSW9asFE0ESh7DQnuqnJJzUhjCKTQsHe2GMp-V_cUDnuW33NhPQ6yh7QCsd5sGbdbYVtydQLKag1h1RqziyH9xxNTN68cqeadQ1rxUuCWuUe/s1600-h/IMG_4897.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7L2xpJcjIV9JLb97ZhgRYyHHv2kNvYPrNSW9asFE0ESh7DQnuqnJJzUhjCKTQsHe2GMp-V_cUDnuW33NhPQ6yh7QCsd5sGbdbYVtydQLKag1h1RqziyH9xxNTN68cqeadQ1rxUuCWuUe/s400/IMG_4897.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366133044669806274" /></a><br /><div>I also hadn't noticed the lacy banks of Queen Anne's lace with a path to the next field cutting through them. Pretty.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3455/3788380265_424038c950.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3455/3788380265_424038c950.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>I enjoyed these too, until the mosquitoes picked me up and carried me away.</div><div><br /></div><div>The skies this summer have been putting on a spectacular show, with their moody swirls and patterns. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2581/3789185316_c8793db26b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2581/3789185316_c8793db26b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>They add to the variety of the landscape around here. Ah well, if I'm staying put this summer, I could do a lot worse. After all, it's not in the looking, but the seeing. </div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-33078316315323568502009-07-29T11:21:00.007-04:002009-07-29T11:39:57.589-04:00lilies<div><br /></div><div>Some lilies from my garden. They seem to thrive under my regimen of average soil and benign neglect. The bugs don't like them, and they spread. What's not to love?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGtI0tolGde_nYLPjqj7vtvwDqWVEmcAfSI3V3o3hCTB8jwjCfH_r6HJ5u4NO28P4kIG1Dlk-hBU29ObPq8hALqWCO6KR5R3wwWOvIn5YDLvT8IKRtQH07kfnwpnOUr6hyVE0qEVZUAlF/s1600-h/IMG_4810.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvGtI0tolGde_nYLPjqj7vtvwDqWVEmcAfSI3V3o3hCTB8jwjCfH_r6HJ5u4NO28P4kIG1Dlk-hBU29ObPq8hALqWCO6KR5R3wwWOvIn5YDLvT8IKRtQH07kfnwpnOUr6hyVE0qEVZUAlF/s400/IMG_4810.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363906446253206978" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0PaocCPByU10-1CV8blpZhyphenhyphenj8bHjgjN6MSJtZolSeQcJp0UMtvEHpf1ui1vE9A0c7qsEQqIzVnWPdMI0uK-xFbuEdNfgJn0ykr7e5tLloObxYdlN5Qdh4N0rxAkl0Mg4FCpHKAWhC-EjX/s1600-h/IMG_4811.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0PaocCPByU10-1CV8blpZhyphenhyphenj8bHjgjN6MSJtZolSeQcJp0UMtvEHpf1ui1vE9A0c7qsEQqIzVnWPdMI0uK-xFbuEdNfgJn0ykr7e5tLloObxYdlN5Qdh4N0rxAkl0Mg4FCpHKAWhC-EjX/s400/IMG_4811.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363906437665942354" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrR1HHXAJunPMZsoiNBsQpaTYgooQOYUH1eMQ-JI7lHlZ1wVunfzriERZMwKtpRJ5CWUi5ZzvrZ3YqnfgyljtHqT55_de6uJN01iQrR6NHRK3Vaesm_IJ1E8zizh9JBrrKgmRURRlx_WU/s1600-h/IMG_4813.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgrR1HHXAJunPMZsoiNBsQpaTYgooQOYUH1eMQ-JI7lHlZ1wVunfzriERZMwKtpRJ5CWUi5ZzvrZ3YqnfgyljtHqT55_de6uJN01iQrR6NHRK3Vaesm_IJ1E8zizh9JBrrKgmRURRlx_WU/s400/IMG_4813.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363906431925641538" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrKLBuops0aLawne_sQOnrOLP5UNz6fRlTXWDd12PoFpdMjJuZ4OvFsu2KbCBRwUZWq3sVuMpAw3NYNliWrjxiNjIw0KDhf3GKtc4dALqPS2-Q_Eqv5OmjGv3514ocQDj6sfRcMGCjWcdE/s1600-h/IMG_4814.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrKLBuops0aLawne_sQOnrOLP5UNz6fRlTXWDd12PoFpdMjJuZ4OvFsu2KbCBRwUZWq3sVuMpAw3NYNliWrjxiNjIw0KDhf3GKtc4dALqPS2-Q_Eqv5OmjGv3514ocQDj6sfRcMGCjWcdE/s400/IMG_4814.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363905146517918754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJJKClMJViEx935nMKlbfmiB7V4GoFUw7DsAPmfy5_U2ZsanDqEGyzGribxUOD_MCAqSqKCBIZgLwdF5YoQESRpJcwRLay8pvRB5TRq_gPKUn0PPfaVg4An7fCkRegHpGqYiVF8TXZ9HKg/s1600-h/IMG_4816.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJJKClMJViEx935nMKlbfmiB7V4GoFUw7DsAPmfy5_U2ZsanDqEGyzGribxUOD_MCAqSqKCBIZgLwdF5YoQESRpJcwRLay8pvRB5TRq_gPKUn0PPfaVg4An7fCkRegHpGqYiVF8TXZ9HKg/s400/IMG_4816.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363905138545687650" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XDdgG3aLUuaCP7e7yVpZ3QoWQL9mDyJr-ey1KhBaI4kvuOuTK5hxE4n4eujqot5YsMQsLlTksSiphtGcuMn9ItixaciXeGs0HfEctvEwxBW2q-wr8Z7LeoK6N7q8pefh3ZLIBc6N02Og/s1600-h/IMG_4817.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XDdgG3aLUuaCP7e7yVpZ3QoWQL9mDyJr-ey1KhBaI4kvuOuTK5hxE4n4eujqot5YsMQsLlTksSiphtGcuMn9ItixaciXeGs0HfEctvEwxBW2q-wr8Z7LeoK6N7q8pefh3ZLIBc6N02Og/s400/IMG_4817.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363905126087509298" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDoEAmoq6i05HGN4xvPMn8nOT_sSNEY2YPYvGrB9X83ewPUPVmT8AvRBMs-TkSGlbj8IqUnhtyBXTqz9BjgMCbOaK5WvQF27xIEnKKHmDXz9YasjsUsroCOlWyqrFMpYb1lUaOwOm-_yi4/s1600-h/IMG_4820.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDoEAmoq6i05HGN4xvPMn8nOT_sSNEY2YPYvGrB9X83ewPUPVmT8AvRBMs-TkSGlbj8IqUnhtyBXTqz9BjgMCbOaK5WvQF27xIEnKKHmDXz9YasjsUsroCOlWyqrFMpYb1lUaOwOm-_yi4/s400/IMG_4820.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363903713558964530" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX1C92Ylk7XK2rvHws9p4leqhSFd1I9JnDLbt9oeWl2eQLYCbvNtaWx3PoFH2fh0amp-RGMf8QLSSoPdVH4-QNwDEr32mc80CNWhOG09_Q7U9QJBQHQYZt6UepkpFga_l-rNvWdLdvRvXT/s1600-h/IMG_4821.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX1C92Ylk7XK2rvHws9p4leqhSFd1I9JnDLbt9oeWl2eQLYCbvNtaWx3PoFH2fh0amp-RGMf8QLSSoPdVH4-QNwDEr32mc80CNWhOG09_Q7U9QJBQHQYZt6UepkpFga_l-rNvWdLdvRvXT/s400/IMG_4821.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363903152549243762" /></a>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-17064686027847818432009-07-27T11:13:00.017-04:002009-07-27T13:01:15.715-04:00wine route<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3524/3762374738_e89f707fa5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3524/3762374738_e89f707fa5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>On Saturday, my husband and I went for a drive in Niagara wine country , which is only about a half-hour from where we live. This area has really come into its own in recent years, and now produces award-winning wines, known around the world.</div><div><br /></div><div> <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtpd1tbAB7mHqfPawQLsz0ytJCRokmAy7WJ6AhwzbAXl4bGcYLnjofzjyhPTIUJ3EmeE1LJzLEYq5ljqRYsKHEj_Fjj65vMuS-X3ldiseLLCs3S09mcHFYFXNAjUsTuyEyTMIPDHfdhXM6/s1600-h/IMG_4790.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtpd1tbAB7mHqfPawQLsz0ytJCRokmAy7WJ6AhwzbAXl4bGcYLnjofzjyhPTIUJ3EmeE1LJzLEYq5ljqRYsKHEj_Fjj65vMuS-X3ldiseLLCs3S09mcHFYFXNAjUsTuyEyTMIPDHfdhXM6/s400/IMG_4790.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363163713199918690" /></a><br /></div><div>The day was a rather soggy one, with intermittent rain showers (as per the weather we have been having of late). We still enjoyed driving through the vineyards with their waving, symmetrical rows of grapes, so beautifully tended.</div><div><br /></div><div>There were so many wineries, we didn't know which one to pick for a tasting, but we happened upon this lovely barn, which turned out to be part of the <a href="http://www.hiddenbench.com/">Hidden Bench</a> winery in Beamsville. I would love a barn like this. So would my horses.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqz2io5_TYTN2vjdOJoe6PJM2T37LFWGIulHbjN1Rva7T712DtRidMvD3bYCy6eG_SRlZxlFsKmnk1aax62Ad2T4VVfxZzuwGnrfgqDLWNa73D1kxl2HxJu8sltAHpH9eLXOXh96j8v0jC/s1600-h/IMG_4797.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqz2io5_TYTN2vjdOJoe6PJM2T37LFWGIulHbjN1Rva7T712DtRidMvD3bYCy6eG_SRlZxlFsKmnk1aax62Ad2T4VVfxZzuwGnrfgqDLWNa73D1kxl2HxJu8sltAHpH9eLXOXh96j8v0jC/s400/IMG_4797.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363162467199276290" /></a><br /></div><div>The moment we stepped out of the car, the heavens smiled, the sun came out, and we were able to enjoy the winery's vineyards, and product (of course).</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2038/3761581613_2b444c591c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2038/3761581613_2b444c591c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>I love the simple architecture of the wineries, many of which are based on barns, with natural rough-hewn timber, and stone.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHcJI5jWVddeUqoxSNF2Jak165mskWeTkAQbHktUMDqJf3U1jhR2f91ZoI76_cq8T9XHNrCP4sTOzaXxbRXKqohijx2H_wuNHABGzO3JyDcYZgSdMtJ0SgPkGZIaoRx1NDVx7FA6CpkjG/s1600-h/IMG_4800.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcHcJI5jWVddeUqoxSNF2Jak165mskWeTkAQbHktUMDqJf3U1jhR2f91ZoI76_cq8T9XHNrCP4sTOzaXxbRXKqohijx2H_wuNHABGzO3JyDcYZgSdMtJ0SgPkGZIaoRx1NDVx7FA6CpkjG/s400/IMG_4800.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363161030992822370" /></a><br /></div><div>It was absolutely quiet there. I'm sure that makes for superior grapes. I know I do a lot better in a quiet environment. You could almost hear them growing.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TdWxwb8wyQ3xoYIJAC5gp4ADF6Z6nXgjRskFkBgTae6KFAdj1tcqJzshSbb8z7JwxpYM2QiiI_NqDTTJRd2I5FwOIU40i2nB8Ije3HQURaZIJ2Vqkeu8an3Gou7y2BW9QO6zzWmGWUAu/s1600-h/IMG_4803.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8TdWxwb8wyQ3xoYIJAC5gp4ADF6Z6nXgjRskFkBgTae6KFAdj1tcqJzshSbb8z7JwxpYM2QiiI_NqDTTJRd2I5FwOIU40i2nB8Ije3HQURaZIJ2Vqkeu8an3Gou7y2BW9QO6zzWmGWUAu/s400/IMG_4803.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363159519277924594" /></a><br /></div><div>We brought some of the wine home to enjoy, but while it tasted quite lovely (and miles above the usual plonk I serve), it wasn't quite the same as sampling it at the winery, steps away from its terroir.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmCJ4FzIsf1Nk9InBPwRca70GgkyrlvoVBLMDTIYOP7LOzfB3Fu0NNYTPxkB52EBAR8SWSJpewkJd1yC5qwTLDhIgvqnPnbN_zXjbx6RObwDWFn2yTPYakVBV6zYlI5VWcWdo04rqTCEws/s1600-h/IMG_4799.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmCJ4FzIsf1Nk9InBPwRca70GgkyrlvoVBLMDTIYOP7LOzfB3Fu0NNYTPxkB52EBAR8SWSJpewkJd1yC5qwTLDhIgvqnPnbN_zXjbx6RObwDWFn2yTPYakVBV6zYlI5VWcWdo04rqTCEws/s400/IMG_4799.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363159033042951778" /></a><br /></div><div>There, on the hidden bench of the Niagara escarpment, it tasted grand. </div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-36236371361017243042009-07-23T14:30:00.008-04:002009-07-23T15:04:17.705-04:00summer<div><br /></div><div>Or is it?...... This long-awaited season has made its appearance in the form of atmospheric skies, low-hanging clouds, and rain.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3481/3750114032_f4de9e91ce.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3481/3750114032_f4de9e91ce.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>And while the trees and plants are rather lush, optimal growth, as it turns out requires huge amounts of sunshine.</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2572/3750095278_f94feb941c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2572/3750095278_f94feb941c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2523/3750163798_c5e3e3d35b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2523/3750163798_c5e3e3d35b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>I really do appreciate the fact that this is perfect strolling weather, where a girl can gaze upon all of the lovely lush and luxuriant growth (while not even breaking a sweat)....</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3475/3749302381_e63624aeed.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3475/3749302381_e63624aeed.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>But all the while I can't help craving those hot, humid, unforgiving days, the days when you can really unfold and unclench whatever it was that collapsed in on itself during that endless winter. I want to complain, and whine and fan myself, while saying the words spoken since time immemorial: "hot enough for ya?".......and the always popular "I'm just no good in this heat".</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2583/3750131026_e8036e1e78.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 295px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2583/3750131026_e8036e1e78.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Please, Ma nature, there's still time. Just go for it!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>P.S. I seem to have no blogging manners, since I tend to fall off the face of this blog on a regular basis, without explanations. All is well, just another uneventful summer,....except for the blackberries. Those were good this year. And I got a canoe. Other than that, same old,....thanks for asking. Will try to be more regular.</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-8992478997065278542009-06-01T10:55:00.010-04:002009-06-01T11:15:28.422-04:00bloom<div><br /></div><div>What's blooming on the farm today....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3651/3585783246_9d6e6be3f2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3651/3585783246_9d6e6be3f2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3610/3585043417_62f76af639.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3610/3585043417_62f76af639.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3663/3585778814_ef5a5b7a05.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3663/3585778814_ef5a5b7a05.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2430/3585031019_6447a2a2c5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2430/3585031019_6447a2a2c5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3349/3585818736_8acbc0697c.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3349/3585818736_8acbc0697c.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3662/3585808866_1831514f5e.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3662/3585808866_1831514f5e.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2438/3584984127_2793cb14e8.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2438/3584984127_2793cb14e8.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3402/3585828662_eb99414706.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3402/3585828662_eb99414706.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>It's important to take a few moments every day to soak it all in. Ollie gets the idea!</div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3402/3585056145_c2db6c6b91.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3402/3585056145_c2db6c6b91.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5627424114735083300.post-57952268561835388852009-05-22T10:15:00.013-04:002009-05-22T10:59:01.944-04:00birthday boy<div><br /></div><div>Ollie is two years old today!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2472/3554280674_91625602dc.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2472/3554280674_91625602dc.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div>'who, me?'</div><div><br /></div><div>As you can see, he still needs to grow into his large ears and giant head, but it'll come. The time has gone so quickly....it seems only yesterday that he was born. Here he is, just hours after his birth (Sadie is still covered in sweat after all of her exertions). </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3298/3554318708_48615fc4f5.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3298/3554318708_48615fc4f5.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>Sadie has been such a great momma to Ollie. She has really turned out to be a most excellent horse. Ollie has inherited her even-tempered disposition and general unflappability. He has been a pretty easy horse to train, especially for two novices (o.k., one novice- my husband and our wonderful friend Ed did the training, I mostly watched, with my breath held, and my knickers in a twist). </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3643/3553512753_3e91644312.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3643/3553512753_3e91644312.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3367/3553520087_c4815f42d3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 339px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3367/3553520087_c4815f42d3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>My job was caretaker and official spoiler and smoocher. (Note to self: do not let people take pictures of me while wearing pyjama bottoms and a bun in my hair).</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3355/3553515009_d5c8ff1034.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3355/3553515009_d5c8ff1034.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>Ollie has always been treated with kindness, and he is a very open, friendly,trusting horse.</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3649/3554286760_463ac01210.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3649/3554286760_463ac01210.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>It's actually dificult to take photos of him in the pasture, because before you know it ....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3335/3553485937_ecf4ef0704.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 333px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3335/3553485937_ecf4ef0704.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>he's practically sitting on my lap. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2482/3553488575_a46fb30358.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 333px; height: 500px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2482/3553488575_a46fb30358.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>'Mwah'! here's your kiss, please don't eat my camera. My husband has been taking him for some trail rides with the other horses, and he has done very well, so far. I'll probably wait another, oh, I don't know, five years before I ride him (I'm that chicken of a rider).</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3555/3548308713_f7c6b378bb.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 271px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3555/3548308713_f7c6b378bb.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>Happy birthday little Ollie. Stay sweet.</div>hayseedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05297909299783835530noreply@blogger.com11