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five finds friday (berg keeps being funny, trip highlights and delicious drinks)
Without school to guide me, I just don’t know what day of the week it is. Also – side note: I can see that my Mailchimp subscribing idea is not working correctly. I see that it sends you an email but the mail contains nothing. No link. No post. Just annoyance. I’m angry at Mailchimp. And I want another idea or option so I’m going to start working on that. After the ranch. Or something. In the meantime, if any of you know a better mass mailing/subscribing option, I’m all ears. Better yet – if any of you want to magically make that happen, I’ll pay you – in London…
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love. via sour dough bread.
I love my kids. But that’s nothing unusual – right? Moms love their kids. It’s kind of our job. But you know what is extra special and humbling and wonderful? When other people love your kids. When other humans in your life nourish your kid’s strengths and encourage her talents. That’s lovely. That’s beautiful. Mosely loves to bake bread. She has been trying a handful of recipes off and on for years. Some with wild success – rosemary bread, for example. Some with not-her-favorite results. Bread is finicky. Dough rising is affected by temperature and humidity and length of time. I’ve never been a pro at it myself. But Mosely…
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The weekend ramble (the framily comes to town)
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July Fourth and the Farm and a Few Photos
Twenty-seven? Or has it been twenty-nine? I can’t remember which of those numbers is accurate, but either way, it’s been a LOT of years that my family has been celebrating the fourth of July with my framily. It was just an idea a couple of decades ago. A casual “let’s have dinner together on July Fourth” sort of plan between a handful of families who lived near one another in the glorious state of Virginia surrounded by the ever inviting Blue Ridge Mountains. But over the years it has become a staple on the calendar. A must do. A can’t miss event. It’s part reunion…
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Five Finds Friday (funny photos and my dog’s grin and how we homeschool)
It’s been a good week. And a rainy week. And a regular old week week. All at the same time. Like it does. funny London likes to take my photos and turn them into silly things. Recently she grabbed this silly photo of herself and did this. I like that she can laugh at herself too. Also. Ryder’s birthday was this week. There was a dog cake made. And – he’s smiling in this photo – isn’t he? fashionable Oh these gorgeous kantha blankets from Basha and Open River Imports. They are incredibly beautiful. flavorful Sometimes history meets…
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Five Finds Friday (bad lip reading, maggie weaves, piper feeds a calf)
I had no mental space this week for reading Charles Martin novels because I exhausted all of my emotional energy on watching the last two episodes of This Is Us. Those writers. They are so talented. I also watched my first ever Super Bowl and turns out, it was kind of fun. Sausage cheese dip and good company help that out too, of course. funny In honor of that Super Bowl viewing, here’s something funny. A Bad Lip Reading. (Here’s hoping there’s no creepy ad that comes up first for you guys. When I went to this link the ad was for the newest Fifty Shades…
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farm, framily, feelings, photos
At the farm I didn’t write very much. I brought a couple of books to read, but I didn’t open them. I stayed up late every night, talking in the quiet hours with Emma and Sarah and Sally, with whomever stayed awake and was chatty. I didn’t rise exceptionally early because my kids are late sleepers and those of them who were not were capable of having a bowl of cereal downstairs with the other early risers. We saw rainbows more than once at the farm. Once, as the rain begin to chase us, we chased the rainbow’s end. It seemed so perfectly catchable. It…
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Farm Time. a list of what it is and what it is not.
We’ve crossed right into Farm Time. (Actually, we crossed over last week but that just goes to show you how Farm Time works.) No algebraic formula exists that will equate into understanding the comparison between Real Life Time and Farm Time. And no one in Farm Time even cares. In Farm Time these things happen: We tell stories at the kitchen table and then we laugh until we cry but sometimes no one, not even the person laughing, knows what started the hilarity. Movies take place on the lawn. Not as in – here’s a projector and a sheet hanging on the side of the house, but…
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Five Finds Friday (some photos & what Otto thinks about fruit cups)
This week has been full. But you already know that. And here we are again —- Friday! FUNNY First, from a former “funny” entry, I’ve had such a good time hearing your thoughts and comments about my brother Danny’s fishing video. My framily member Maggie said her two year old son is addicted to watching Danny catch that big one. He has a new video up here and he’ll probably have a few more this week. He got a little distracted this week from fishing videos because he became a GRANDPA! What? How can the majority of my siblings and I be grandparents already?? Now, on…
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returning to real life: post farm realities
Leaving Virginia is never easy. The kids say exactly what I feel when they say, “I want to be at our home, but I don’t want to ever leave the farm.” No matter what, when you pull into that glorious driveway at Gray Mountain Farm, you enter a different dimension somehow. I’ve written about it before. Time moves differently out there in the green grassy fields in the shadow of Chestnut Mountain. You begin your stay thinking you have all the time in the world. You end your stay wondering where on earth the days went. No one goes to bed early and when you wake up, there’s still…
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July Fourth Shenanigans
If you know me, you know that my favorite holiday is July Fourth. It’s the family and it’s the food. It’s the farm and the fun. It’s being together and it’s tradition and it’s years stacked on years of celebrating a summer day and lives and family and friends. July Fourth on the Farm is the best. It was Ryder’s first July Fourth. That dog legitimately loves the farm. (And spends his days racing to the pond and collecting briars in his thick coat and harboring dirt and mud all over his legs and just in general being a happy go lucky mess. The food is plentiful at the…
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snow matters.
All I’ve got today is this …. Snow is my favorite. Not my favorite as in I-Want-To-Live-In-A-State-Where-Winter-Means-A-Weekly-Snow-Storm-And-My-Face-Always-Feels-Frozen. More like my favorite as in Once-Or-Thrice-A-Winter-A-Good-Snow-Storm-That-Shuts-Life-Down. I love that kind of snow. I love the finality and the theatrics with which the south treats snow flakes. Lock down and stay home and eat soup and drink hot chocolate and serve up seven heaping bowls of snow cream in two days. Play games and build snow men (and snow families complete with kitty cats and snow babies) and build forts and sled down hills and don’t go to work and don’t do school and just be alive with the people you love. That’s…
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Gray Mountain Farm
You guys. We are at the farm. The beautiful lovely Virginia farm. Where the mountains ensconce you and the framily embraces you and the mosquitoes bite you and the wireless signal evades you and the Internet still doesn’t trespass onto the property. So I just can’t easily share the good life we are living on these gorgeous acres across the wires on this blog. And that is alright. Just picture us all tubing down a muddy river. Working on endless food prep in a continual prep-cook-serve-eat-clean cycle all the day long. Going on little hikes and gator rides. Feasting on different people’s specialty meals and desserts. Sharing long held, over…
