Make It Look Easy

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I come from a dance background.  When we do amazing feats or kick our leg high, we make it look easy.  Nothing hurts.  Simple.  Casual.  Do this all the time.   That’s part of the art.

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I also dabble in the geek world.  Their art has a note of “duh,” which for geeks means make it look easy.  Sometimes, those amazing feats and solutions are not all that easy, but we make it seem so.

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We move children and we move cattle … and actually, we move chickens.  Chickens, that’s easy.  Children, meh … really depends on the temperament.  … not always predictable.  Hard to make that look easy when they scream and you scream back.

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Cattle?  you need to know some tricks.  I really enjoyed this move.  The cattle ( some new to the system ) crossed the road.  Seems simple, but is it really?  Over the years and with concrete examples of cow moves gone wrong, Brent has set up subtleties that make it all look easy.  And just like a ballerina “floating on air” on her toes, weightless … the herd popped over too easy.  What you don’t see are the bloody toes ( ballerina point dancer ref ) of the past getting this art down to making it look effortless.  Behind that move is pasture planning, cow chess moves and temp fence props.  Add to that when to get the herd back to the yards mixed with do we feed hay?  Do we feed hay because the pasture needs it?  So many inputs to make it look easy.  Here they are, the herd, crossing the road.

 

When I lived in the city, I would have loved to be part of that cow move.  That’s why we are offering an opportunity to stay on the farm.  Seems easy, but what are those tricks?  Accepting reservations starting in May.

Cheer Up Sleepy Jean

z: Daddy says you don’t like the song Cheer Up Sleepy Jean
me: I don’t
z: [ hums a few bars ]
z: he says your sisters used to sing it to you cuz you are grumpy in the morning
me: yep
z: [ more singing with lyrics ]
z: why? If you’re grumpy then, cheer up sleepy jean

So enlightening to hear my daughter tell stories to me about my childhood.  I do,  I hate that song.  For many reasons.  One, I hate monkeys.  Two, I hate The Monkeys ( too perky  and profit driven ) .  Three, I don’t support any campaign by happy morning people to uplift and motivate us grumpy morning people.  I’ve always been a grumpy morning person, as well as my self-admitted grumpy youngest and grumpy eldest.  We are dragons.  We don’t greet the morning with a smile.  I would wake up in the morning as a young teen and I remember my mother telling a visitor, ” don’t talk to her.  she just grunts at you.  you won’t understand. ”

But, after that conversation with my little dragon, I started to think about their future conversations about *their* childhood.  As I’ve only done this parenting thing once and most of it loaded on the younger side of those kiddies, at no point did I think about the stories they will tell.  The parenting books, the parenting friends, the internet parenty things focus on what that child will be, will do, without a chapter on … well, when your child does this, they may talk about or blog about their life from their perspective.

My little dragon re-blogged a story about my childhood to me.  I had to read it because she was streaming live without a pause button.  Now, I’m wondering what stories my children will have when they grow older and pull stories from their life to relay comedy or tragedy or a barrier they had to emotionally overcome.  These kids … they are made of people.

and for you, I leave with this gem … I’m sure I’ve bitched about this shitty song before … but here you go again.  As a rule, with song assignments, you MUST listen all the way to the end.  It’s the way we roll here on the farm.

 

 

 

 

Merry Happy HolidaChristmas

or whatever we need to say now.  Doesn’t matter.  Things are slowing down for the holidays.  Days are short.  We are finishing our sales for the year.  SOLD OUT!  go us! People are thinking of visiting their families and loved ones.  Two of our kids are off for a week doing school things.  Like out of our house off doing things.  We’re down to two little ones.  It’s like a new family.  For a week, we get to live the life of parents with two kids.  We’ll see if that is easier or harder.  But for now, here they are.  We brought in make-up and stylists to get the “straight off the farm” look.  We also sprung for the clown team to get them to show their true happiness.  Looks like the cats made the most of that investment.  I also popped in previous years to see how our antics progressed.  I’ll post our year in photos next time.  It’s been a great year.  For me, a great year for growing and learning.

2016
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2015

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2014

family photo 2013

Baby Head

First, check out that herd!  Glorious.  Normally we are on fire warming the house because winter is coming.  … but not this year.  Too warm.  Though, I have maintained the “warm room” in case we suddenly drop below double digits.

Baby Head

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A mother friend of mine ( three kids, nobel gal ) and I had an exchange.  I forgot something or stumbled and told her, “baby head”  because sometimes with so many lives to raise, you forget things.  Simple things, like the price per kilo of the beef you are selling.  And she told me this, which I hold dear to my heart, ” don’t worry, when the youngest turns six … you get your head back.” … or something like that.  WHAT?!  I get my head back?  For some reason, I thought I was supposed to get my head back when they turn three or four.  SIX?  Are you serious?

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Now, I’ve had my head on pretty well, but I must admit, as my youngest turns six in a week, I’m firing on all cylinders.  WAIT!  We can do this!  and then this!  Why haven’t we done that?!  Clear as day. Only partially the way through raising people, lots of experience with the bubbles.  Now trending the tweens and teens.  … Baby Head is a thing of the past.  Now, we need to get these kiddies to be good people.

When You Don’t Have The Internet, You’re Left With Your Thoughts

I’m on an internet diet.  Sure, it seems I’m busy momming and wifing and farming, beefing people and all that, but you’d be surprised how many minutes you can find looking at the interwebs.  So, I stopped.  I put myself on a diet. I do mail for beef and chicken sales.  I can blog.  And I also found, I can make videos.  Totally on the diet!  My cheats are watching video recaps of The Late Show with Steven Colbert and stand-up comedy.

When someone sends me a link, I’ll follow it.  Totally on the diet.  I’ve been so excited watching the development of Modern Dance in the mainstream media.  Videos, ads, comedy… all of it.  My husband sent me a great ad recently.  Great music.  Great film.  Great moves.  I can remember making those moves in real time with real dancers for real audiences a long time ago.  No video back then.  All I have is my memory of that experience performing or enjoying a dance performance.  And my poor husband sitting through all those performances.  Brother Teresa!

Dances were about the body and the lines of the body.  Not much choreography involved the face as part of the movement.  The face was neutral.  A friend of mine LOVED using the face.  I remember dancing for her and hating all this face stuff.  I did it, but I felt like I was dancing and doing a Haka for New Zealand Rugby at the same time.

Butoh ( Japanese dance theatre ) uses face, space and time to dance.  I’ve been to one Butoh concert in my life.  Here’s some advice: don’t have two glasses of Chardonnay before a Butoh concert.  … but the moments I enjoyed before I fell asleep were INCREDIBLE!  They take their time.  Your time is of no interest to them.  You can watch a scene for many, many minutes and then you’ll realize that it opened up to another scene before you realized it opened up.  … picture a time-lapse, slow motion video of a flower blossoming.

With my thoughts and inspiration we put together a farm video after Zelie got her new onesie.  Hope you enjoy …

 

 

Fair To Middlin’

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Mom:  Hey John, How are you John?

John: Hi Gladys, Fair to middlin’

Mom: Me too, John, I’m fair to middlin’

Mom ( to me ): He’s always fair to middin’.  I am too.  I Don’t know what that means.

I asked the ladies who helped my mom what “fair to middlin'” meant … they didn’t know.  John is an old boy, so I assumed this must be a phrase along with “bee’s knees” and “when hector was a pup.”  Fair to middling means ” ok. average. meh.”  My brief googlpedia research rounded up a lovely piece on livestock or crop grade that goes in this order:  fine, through good, fair, middling, ordinary and least good.  So John and my mom were doing O.K.  Affirmed each day along with others at the residence at meal times.  A new expression for me while I visited my mom in America.

When I walked into my mom’s room for the first time, I was taken with all the photos and art she brought with her.  Most specifically the painting of some daisies in a pot.  When that painting was purchased, I was a teen off haggling with the vendors of Tijuana trying  to knock off a few pesos for some huaraches. My mom and dad were after something for our home.  We split up shopping in the Tijuana shopping maze.  My mom told my dad that she found something she loved.  My dad told my mom that he also found something perfect.  I can’t remember who went first, but when the first led the other to the painting they loved, they both smiled because it was the same painting.  A bunch of daisies in a pot.  So they bought it and it was in our home.  And there it was in my mom’s room.  I took a photo of it, but it came out a bit crooked.  Well, fair to middlin’.