Jean In France

As a “Jean” in France I’ve been met with some surprise … Jean, though I am a girl, is spelled like a boy and in France is SUPER masculine … I have curated a following for my curious email address. Can’t share my email address … BUT in America it is totally fine. In France, dark webish. Here are some fun emails I’ve received as a Jean in France:

“Bonjour comment allez vous cher inconnue ? Je tiens a me présentée moi c’est janessa célibataire sans enfants a la recherche de d’un homme et plus si affinités , j’ai 36ans je désire faire ample connaissance avec vous si cela ne vous dérange pas car a vrai dire moi je suis complètement novice sur le net et je suis a la recherche de nouvelles connaissances. Je tiens à vous dire que moi je suis caissière dans un supermarché je vous laisses les coordonnées auxquelles vous pouvez me joindre si vous vouliez bien faire connaissance avec moi car cela serait un plaisir de faire connaissance avec vous voilà mon Hangouts #####”

“Je parle de moi, je suis célibataire, sans enfant, je ne bois pas d’alcool, je ne fume pas, je mène une vie très saine, je pratique du sport sans arrêt, j’aime nager et me serrer dans mes bras. Je ne suis pas actuellement dans une relation amoureuse, donc je me concentre sur le travail et continue à étudier. Je recherche une relation sérieuse et stable. J’ai une bonne formation académique et j’aime cuisiner. Je recherche également une femme simple et honnête. Je suis fatiguée des mensonges et c’est pourquoi je suis célibataire, beaucoup de femmes ne recherchent que leur confort et non leur bonheur. Je suis ouvert à vous montrer tout mon monde, ma famille et mon lieu de résidence, car si vous l’êtes, vous aurez toujours mon respect et mon honnêteté ####”

A View In A Room

Second hip done did.  Two working hips.   Working technically, but there is much to do to convince my muscles and bones to cooperate.  The main thing is that the pain is gone.  Surgery pain is temporary.

The weather was beautiful outside the room.  I could appreciate the sky.  The free wifi was broken, so I was left with movies my husband put on a USB.  FOUR nights spent watching movies.  I haven’t sat through a movie in YEARS.  As I write to you, telling my story … all I hear is a soundtrack and some lines written on a screenplay and Lauren Bacall knocking back another whiskey. Broads …geez.

Funny thing happened on the way to the clinique.  While talking in depth with Zelie asking questions about all the Kings and Queens in the world and wait! Queen Elizabeth II is still ALIVE?! … I took a big bite of a pothole with my low profile tire.  Flat.

Brent changed the flat at the speed of an F1 pit crew.  Z learned how to contract the jack by extending it all the way and then corrected.

This is the sneaky beast.

This Dog LOVES His Peeps


Lumi LOVES to pick up the kids … any kid any kids …



he loves to run around the fields like an idiot … digging … you know … helping out …


… bus arrives, he is still running around like an idiot.   Z grabs the mail and then we’re off to find Lumi.  … he’s in the orchard sniffing stuff.  He hops in the truck and we’re off back home.


The Chicks


Some thing murdered all of our egg hens.  All but two.  This happened in July.  It’s an awful feeling.  We eat a lot of eggs here at Chez CURTIS, so losing our egg production is a major bummer.  Minty ( our daughter ) runs the egg hens.  She went out to feed and water the two living hens and heard a cheeping sound.  She comes back to the house and shows me a little chick.  One of our egg hens, who was now dead, had sat on a hidden nest and hatched some eggs.  We were so excited to have a little chick on the farm.  We named him Chuck.  Minty went out to see if she could find any more.  She found one other chick, but he wasn’t doing so well.  We put it with Chuck and tried to nurse it back to health.  We named it Wilson … The kids figured if Wilson didn’t make it, we could yell “WILSON!!!”  like Tom Hanks in his volleyball movie.



With Wilson gone, Brent, Minty and Z went to get some interesting egg hens to keep Chuck company.  They came back with quite a peep!  All sorts of interesting chicks that lay eggs with a range of colors.

We’ve put the remaining egg hens, Brent calls the Mother Cluckers,  in a new location with a hot net and now a wildlife camera.  We have no idea what killed our chickens, so with the new camera, we can see what we’re up against.

The chicks today are a lot bigger so we’ve put them temporarily in an outside pen until they are ready to go on the pasture.  We can’t put them out now because the birds of prey will snap them up like peanuts.


… and here’s a ballsy scooter lady in a local village.  If you knew how many giant trucks speed around that roundabout … dude





My Hips Did Lie



Welcome back everybody! I didn’t forget you … We are here doing our thing. Just a little issue with my hip.  Now waiting for my next new hip. Two new hips.  When you have hip trouble, sometimes, it takes a few years to figure out you have hip trouble.

Harvest time y’all!  Our daughter’s friend hooked us up with some giant tomatoes!


Z and Me went to the beach … Otto assembled the new chook feeder.Skype_Picture_2019_09_01T17_12_30_276Z.jpeg

Thanks for hanging with us!  So much to share with you!

Phone Blog Like the Good Ol’ Days

So many blog posts written in the kitchen on my iPhone 4 … cracked edition. My main computer was upstairs and my baby was downstairs while I cooked dinner. My blog was primarily for my mother … the mother of me, the brat, to share with her how her off-off spring are taking on this world. … Well, my mother, the mother of brats like me has passed … so I’m working out how to write and to whom. In the mean time, I’m back in the kitchen… on my phone selecting my words concisely. Mr Grasspunk is fluffing the hay we have been waiting to make due to day after day of rain. The sun is on now, so thankfully we can get to work.

World Cup is on. America waiting patiently to teach the world about Soccer in 2026.

When Your Parents Are Listening And You Don’t Realize

young doop and otto

We’ve been on the farm for quite a few years at this point.  It’s hard to believe how big the kids have grown.  As we grow as parents, we ( okay, I ) are comfortable letting the kids walk the farm alone. …. far from the house.  At their age now, no big deal.  When they were young, they carried a walkie talkie ( “talkie walkie” in French ).  Today, I giggled on a memory of Lucy and Otto exploring the farm as young single-digit kids.  They both had walkie talkies.  I also had one at the house in case they got lost or needed something.

We heard their conversation on the walkie talkie as they commented on what they saw.  They also separated at one point and kept the dialog going.  I don’t remember when their argument began, but things were going down. Otto grumbled something at Lucy.   They were new with the walkie talkies, so it was hard to hear what they were saying.  Lucy screeched something back.  Otto made another grump at Lucy.  Shit got real.  Then, there was silence.

Brent and I waited to hear what would happen next.  Then, clear as day, Otto pushed the speak button and said, “FUCK YOU.”

Shopping With Zee Zee


Crazy year this fall 2017.  Warm, but not too warm.  The grass is still growing the cows are munching.  No hay needed to be fed.  … but a bit nippy.  So, we, the grasspunk girls, went to get some warm things.  Shopping with Z is not easy.  She’s a bit wild.  Not noisy, just not aware that there are rules and norms in public spaces.  “Where’s Z?!?!?” is something I’ve said for YEARS.  We went to a few shops, got what we needed.  Bought things we didn’t need and all is well. … no, we didn’t buy the faux fur ear muffs 🙂


There are some army chopper drills happening this week.  We were buzzed heavily by them.  Looks like fun.


We fixed some pot holes in our driveway.  While M. Grasspunk shovelled, I manned the truck, listened to podcasts and watched the planes fly over our flatland.


We are clear, cold and warmish in the day for the next few weeks which makes for amazeballs star gazing and beautiful sunsests.


Nebraska Chicken


We have 72 hectares on the farm that turns grass into protein for families.  We named each paddock after a state in America … with the occasional city judging by circumstantial foliage ( see also Detroit, the shittiest paddock that is now the best paddock thanks to mob grazing ).

Nebraska is a north facing paddock that was once a corn field.  When we bought the farm, corn was grown and dried ready for harvest just before Zelie was born.  Funny side note, that big, beast harvester had a flat on the early morn of harvest so we watched as they called the tire changers in.  The harvest wasn’t ours.  It went the way of the renting farmer.


After the harvest was done, we worked the field with cattle to create better pasture for cattle.


The herd did a great job.  Also, Brent seeded alfalfa.  Great for drought.  Great for flavor.

As the field transitioned, we caught some random weeds that the kids collected.  That was a fun year for sunflowers.


Then the pasture started getting serious.  New grasses volunteering amongst the alfalfa.


Then we decided to run chickens.  Not many feed fresh alfalfa to their chickens.  Too expensive.  … but we have cows, so it worked out.


And chickens LOVE alfalfa leaves.  When they are first introduced, they go right for the leaves above everything they have available on the buffet.


Our Nebraska started with a cornfield in France.  Now, it feeds both cows and chickens.  The pasture is so much more resilient because of the work the animals have done.