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.

 

 

 

 

One Ton Tomato

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Total flop of a tomato harvest.  Too hot.  I managed to harvest two small tomatoes of which I fried up for Brent. It went with his “potato, leek, garlic, egg and shit” breakfast.  I halved them.  Too small to slice.

Meanwhile, friends had no problem with their tomatoes.  In one day, I received a ton of tomatoes from three friends.  Today, I processed them.

These are for the pot.

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These are for happy misses chickens.  They love tomato skin!

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So now, let me ruin a classic Cuban song for you.  You’ll never sing it the same way again.

Sleepy Hollow, Club Med Cow Move

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Brent, Otto and farm guest moved the cows.  The cows had Club Med.  Club Med resides in Sleepy Hollow, the paddock.  With this move, they got a bit more yummy stuff including some trees.

After the temp fence was made, the boys walk the cows to where they will cross over to new grass.

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The herd bunches and waits for the call.

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They munch and munch, generally facing the same way.  After, they will rest in the trees.  We are happy to have so much food for the herd.

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Restraining my inner peanut gallery, let’s all get up and appreciate an instrument that knows no limits.  My Panflute Pop Pick: The Macarena.

 

 

Adventure Playground and The Discord

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The Adventure Playground now has Adventure Hay Bales™.  Underneath one of the bales is Minty’s other gumboot.  Not sure how that played out, but Brent placed a bale on her right gumboot ( Minty’s foot was not in it at the time ).

 

Minty: Why is that discord hanging on the wall?

Me: Discord?

Minty: That big, black CD.

Me: Ah, that is a record.

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I carried a small collection of 78 records around with me while I was a student and starving-though-always-had-money-for-a-pint artist.  I can think of ten other things that would be lighter and easier to manage than a small collection of 78 records.  I had a player as well, but that was a Goodwill kiddie player that did 45, 33 1/3 and 78.  With our move to France, I gave the collection to one of my sisters and kept the one record that I love, ” One Meat Ball. ”  The other side has ” Rum and Coca Cola.”  Great tune, but for me, doesn’t have that nostalgic impact of One Meat Ball.

This giant, black CD came up a few days ago with Otto asking about it when he viewed a hot Euro dance hit music video that delivered discords in pizza boxes to happy recipients.  I explained the record thing and he was totally amazed at the technology.  A needle?! And it PLAYS MUSIC!?  But HOW!?  CDs are so boring and un-amazing to these kids of today.

Thankfully there are people who post video of records playing on Youtube so you can experience life before ones and zeroes.

 

 

… I suppose soon enough, we will have Youtube videos of CDs playing.  After that, we’ll need a way to watch bits fly off a USB.  All to remember the good ol’ days.

That Superman And Robinhood Are Still Alive In Hollywood

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Our village will host a Repas Western in the summer.  We will supply the burgers.  Somehow, we will also supply the country music.  Brent found a great country music collection that I have been listening to.  It covers a huge range of years.  “Back in the Saddle Again,”  “Boy Named Sue,”  and “Boot Scootin Boogie” to name a few. The songs play along as I cook or clean or do all those other things.  I enjoy listening to that country music poetry.  The song after Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You,” arrested me.  Two bass notes in, I was tossed back to my younger ears.  Don Williams, ” I Believe In Love ” triggered some sort of childhood memory of me dancing on the toes of my dad at our local Vet’s club.  I’m sure there is some fuzzy memory going on there, but it’s nice to think back and remember being Minty’s age, stepping on my dad’s toes while he stepped around, dancing to something like ” I Believe In Love.”  It has just the right tempo for dancing with children.

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Dragon I is away ( that is our lovely daughter Lucy ).  When Lucy is away, the house settles into another rhythm.  It’s very calm.  Minty decided to make gingerbread men.  This was her first time, so we put on the iPod and I helped her along.

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As she moved from gingerbread men to gingerbread cyclops ( a by-product of big raisins ), that song came on.  And so, I went from dancing on my father’s toes to baking with my daughter.  She worked hard on her men.  Decorated appropriately, they were in the stomaches of the family quicker than her effort.   But they were lovely.

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I’m not exactly sure what this song is about, but I don’t believe also in many similar things.  And don’t believe in the believed things such as the magic part and the gasoline part.  Curious about the virginity.  And sometimes, I wish Superman was still alive helping out with the pasture.

 

Love Isn’t Always On Time

Amazing “Nostalgie” song today.  There are two radio stations set in the car that, if on, you must listen to.  “Nostaglie” and “V.D.A.”  which is an acronym for V-mumble, D-mumble, Armagnac.  Donchoo flip to Fun Radio, no, no.  You must sit through these beauties and enjoy.  Today, after a quick jaunt to the shops, this bad boy came on.  I kept rehearsing the chorus in my head so I could make Brent feel my pain.  I often forget the power ballads.

I arrived home, things were good, I was ready to spread the joy and Brent distracted me with “Dr. Feel Good” by M. J. Brown.  Doh!  Song forgotten.  So I tried to remember the chorus.  Was it “Love didn’t arrive?”  or  “Love can be too late?” or no! it was “Love IS too late!” Damn it! or “Love should have come round, but for whatever reason was a no-show.”  Or Brent’s “Love has variable timing”  What was it?!?!?  Then after a brief listen to Def Leppard’s “Love Bites,”  I remembered!  Love isn’t always on time!!

There is a heifer on heat today ( and yesterday ) and she probably should be knocked up by now.  And with this song, I was thinking, “you know, sometimes, love isn’t always on time.”

 

 

I Found A Fossil, It Could Be Roman!

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The kids are back in school.  The puppy has established a routine.  I’ve now found a way to get back outside with the farm already.  There is so much to do, I find it overwhelming at times.  Today is warm.  T-shirt weather.  With all the cold that is going around in the world, I probably shouldn’t say that out loud.

When I clean the house or a room that has been ransacked by small children or puppy, I start at the deepest darkest corner.  Inch by inch I claim space back.  Now is the time to do this with the bad growing things on the farm.  The blackberries ( brambles ), the twiggy crap, the overgrown and unwanted figs or the lottery win of plum trees.  The leaves are gone which allow you to see a path.

I started at the front of the farm.  I worked my way down the fence line until the big oak.  I LOVE the big oaks.  It took so long for them to become big oaks, I admire their persistence and strength.

Under one big oak, is a small pile of trash.  The trash was revealed after the cows grazed the paddock for the first time in that paddock’s life.  I’m not sure how long that stuff was sitting there, but we’ve been cleaning it up.  I grabbed the last bits and bobs.  Then I found this odd item, a cassette tape.  It looked so quaint and analog, I thought of cassettes tapes of my boombox age.  New Edition, Culture Club, Tears for Fears, Doug E Fresh or anything I taped off the radio ( omg! you can record! what an amazing device! ) …. Oh such tunage.  Six minutes, Doug E Fresh.  It was a mad world.  Inserting a USB stick doesn’t feel as satisfying as opening a cassette tape … or sliding out a record, for that matter.

I looked closely to read that this particular relic was a recording of The Beatles.  The Beatles!  I’ve never been a fan of the Beatles, but after a year or so listening to Pick Of The Pops, I appreciate their mania.  Years before the Beatles were around, people were forced or chose to listen to absolute crap.  In today’s times, we’ve hit crap with the overuse of Auto-tune.  Auto-tune puts the voice through a computer process that keeps it on pitch or now, thank you Cher, adds the voice like a processed, electronic instrument rather than some dude or dudette that sings. When things, like The Beatles or The Chipmunks, come along, the people are loving it.  A change!  Something amazing!  Nirvana!

Rosebud, the pick-up truck, has a cassette tape player.  We’ve not seen  those pieces in so long,  I have no idea if it works.  The Beatles are a bit cracked.  It looks like the previous owner stopped listening somewhere around Michelle and In My Life.  There might be something there.

Jean-Something: “Michelle, my belle,” … bitch! you ruined me!

Doug E Fresh: Oh golly wolly

Jean-Something: Why Jean-Claude?!  Why, Michelle!!???  Merde! ”

[ Tape then tossed under a small oak tree. ]

Doug E Fresh: “She said, um, my name is Maggie but call me Michelle” [ beatbox follows ]

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