I Pick Up Farmers

On the way back from a school run, I found this guy. Bovines moved and munchy, he’s ready for a lift home. Though, he doesn’t need it, he enjoys walking back and reviewing the pasture, planning the next cow move.

… and I’m LOVING that Seahawks beanie!


Dear Canon,

Bon Jour à tous!

I am but a humble farmer and let me tell you, I LOVE  the color yellow!  Love it!
Yellow is the color of France in July with the beautiful sunflowers.

Yellow is a well crafted, free-range egg yolk fresh from the chicken’s bum.

Yellow is the color of this festive balloon played with by a slightly ignored third child. Oh but we love her ever more.

Yellow surrounds this happy group digging up stuff with our digger.


Yellow is the color of my husband’s shirt as he gently handles the cattle.

Yellow is the color that peeks through on a snowy day from our tractor.

Yellow lies at the end of the Tarte aux Pommes rainbow

You see, I’m a huge fan of yellow and a fan of all colors for that matter.  And, yes, I will replace your ink cartridge, it’s in the mail. But I need a black and white copy, you see.  A fresh black tank has been clicked in. So simple.  It’s very black and white.  Yet, you deny me.  I feel like a hostage in your global ink domination. I’ve asked a friend to help with copies.  I am ready to scan, Mr. C, can I call you Mr. C?  Adding insult to injury, you won’t let me scan.  I cannot scan, man.  I cannot scan.

Getting Reacquainted With Her Inner Puppy


It’s getting colder these days. Not as cold as the cold of 2010, but winter is clearly approaching. The mice have decided to charge the maison because 1) they did book ahead and 2) they need somewhere to warm their pattes while the have babies. Lucifer, the mouse trap, is locked and loaded.


We don’t have weekly garbage service, you see. We take our garbage to the local bins. I try to do this often. Sometimes, on days like today, where we really don’t go anywhere and a trip to the garbage bin is a trip all by itself, the bag will stay the night in our cellar. Tosca has worked out this deal with the mice – they start nibbling the bag and she’ll tuck in after. Clever girl our Tosca. It’s a win-win for her and our pests. Sadly, we’ll have to crush this little negotiation, though, it’s lovely to see Tosca find her inner puppy and get into garbage like back in her young puppy days.

Sunrise On The Technical


Gorgeous pink this morning. The Hilux looks ready to roll.


And Minty quotes in the last twenty minutes:

“Britney did a lot of beautiful movies, I don’t know why she copied Elmo.”
“Does Britney exist?”

“Mom, I turned your blanket to eleven.”

My New Work Station


I moved my computer. I think this might suit my daily routine. I spend a tragic amount of time on my crackled iPhone, giving up, then not sharing. Now I can pamper and flood you with my thoughts as we raise our crazy kids, move our crazy cows and make this beef amazing. I will be able to tell you that …

The cows are in!

Tosca is resting!

Brent is mowing!

Zélie is moussing!

Flowers are still blooming!

Tosca Sits On Barn Cat


Silly barn cat. Thinks he can come in and lay around when there are mice and vermin to be dealt with. But the fire is on even though it’s not that cold. It’s November and we’re ready for the cold.