Homeland Farm

Homeland Farm

Sunday, April 5, 2015

Mud Season..again...

 It is that time of year again. The season that brings horse owners and farm folk to tears. It is known as .......MUD SEASON. It is a mess out here every year, but oh Lordie...it is a disaster of biblical proportions this year. Ruts, yep. Pools of mucky water, yep. A slippery, slimey mess, yep.
We got it all. So, I did what all "tired of winter, but not loving mud season" Mainers do..I penned a quick song, called MUD SEASON, OH HOW I HATE YOU.

                                 MUD SEASON, OH HOW I HATE YOU...(ahem)

                                 Sung to the tune of Amazing Grace.

       Crazy mud,
       how sad the sound,
       of boots being sucked
       right off...

       I once liked spring,
       but now, I don't
       Was clean, but now
        I'm not...

        My house, it suffers
       and looks so bad,
       from dogs,
       just walking through...

       I can't wear socks,
      or go barefoot,
       It's too muddy,
       must wear my shoes...

       If you stop by,
       don't stop to stand
       or you
       may never move...

       All these animals,
       are dirty, matted and muddy,
       the furry and also
       the hooved...
       So, go away
       you bad mud season,
       and give us all
       a break...

       We are ready to clean,
       and get jobs done,
       but first, we need
       to rake...

       And now I see,
       it's starting to snow,
       well isn't this
       just dandy?
       It is Easter day,
       no cleaning yet,
       Instead, I'll just eat
       my candy....:D

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Carmen's Country Crooning

 Well, it was probably inevitable. You know, that I would write a country song. I mean, who else is more country then this old farm gal. Of course, it would certainly be much easier to do this if I could play a note on some sort of instrument..piano..guitar...heck, banjo. But alas, all those years of clarinet never paid off for me. All I can do is write it and find someone to set 'er to music. I am pretty sure that this type of thing happens in Nashville all the time, in a land flush with young talent and pretty people. I am just not sure how often it happens in Bridgton, Maine. But get ready folks, because it is about to...                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          HOMELAND FARM


    Well, life at the farm can get mighty grim,
    sometimes with all the chores,
    we don't know where to begin
     But, for me and my kin
     there caint be no other,
     this old farm
     is as dear as our mother

    Homeland Farm, you are so fine              
    Homeland Farm, you smell like pine
    Homeland Farm, we are here to stay
    Homeland Farm, we need more hay

    Now, this old farm,
    She needs a lot of work,
   I'd get out there and help,
   but I'm learning how to twerk            

    But I send out the chillins,
    and the old man too
    They work 'til they cain't
    then they come on in fer stew

    Homeland Farm, you are so fine
    Homeland Farm, you smell like pine
    Homeland Farm, we are here to stay
    Homeland Farm, we need more hay

    Now, if ya'll stop by, and the fire is lit
    pull up a chair, and we'll teach ya how to spit
    Have a honk on my jug of Barefoot Bubbly
    You'll wanna have some more til your seeing kinda doubly

     Homeland Farm, you are so fine
     Homeland Farm, you smell like pine,
     Homeland Farm, we are here to stay
     Homeland Farm, we still need more hay
      Now, don't be surprised if we look kind of country
      Maw in her nightie, and Paw kinda grumpy
      the dogs, and the horses and the 'pacas don't care
      shoot, Maw don't even comb her hair

     So, if you wanna have some down home fun,
     stop on by, and see how it's done
     With Maw, and Paw and all the rest,
     Homeland Farm will stand the test

    THE END.
(I'm watching you Tim McGraw..I can see your
wheels turning..you and Faith go look elsewhere
for a new duet...)

Thursday, March 5, 2015

I thought I was the smart one...

     Dogs here,
     dogs there,
     and not any room for us.
     If I don't get my
     eight hours sleep,
     it makes me want to cuss.
Yes...that is my spot.

     Well, not really, but it does make me tired. Tonight is a perfect example as to why I have big old dark circles under my eyes.
      I went to bed early, as I had a Monday dialysis treatment, which is always the most grueling of the week. I usually have the most fluid to try and remove from my body on Monday, since I just had my dialysis free weekend.
       For the first part of the night, I always sleep well, since Cliffy baby doesn't usually come in for a couple hours after I have gone to bed. He seems to have the ability to stay up past, oh I dont know....7 pm. I can sprawl all out and get nice and comfy, and even when the dogs come in, I still have room.
      Ahh yes...the dogs. We had one tiny little toy poodle named Lacy for many years, She was all of 7 pounds, and we couldn't even find her when she was on the bed. When we had to put her down due to old age, we decided (well..I did) to get another dog to grow up with Liam. Yeah, thats it. She was SUPPOSED to be Liam's dog. She was going to hang out with him, go for walks in the woods with him, sleep with him.
     Well, not so much. Oh, don't get me wrong. She loves Liam. She just loves her "mom and dad" more. The very first night, I can still see her, in my minds eye, trying to stare up over the edge of the bed...questioning with her eyes whether she could sleep with us or not. Since we were in the process of housebreaking, and since she was, according to the animal shelter we got her from, a "small dog breed", we said she could sleep with us. So, she happily climbed up on the bed, and snuggled in between her mom and dad, and has been there ever since.
       Fast forward two years, to tonight. We have managed to inherit a fat, cranky Pekinese that snores like a freight train, and also an old bag of a dog, a Skiperkee mix. They both sleep in the bedroom, with Molly the Peke picking her spot FIRST, usually right next to my pillow so that train snoring is right next to my head. Biloxi May, or Maymay as we call her, sleeps on the floor or on the dog bed beside the bed. And of course, Annalee, now weighing in at 120 pounds, and 6 feet from nose to tip of the tail, still wants to squeeze in between, you guessed it, mom and dad. By the way, mom and dad haven't been able to reach each other for a good night kiss in 2 years. Now you know why.
       Back to tonight. Sleeping soundly, I was. Even after Cliffy baby came in and got in bed. Everyone was arranged nicely so I was comfy and cozy. Thank goodness for king sized beds, or that would never, ever happen.
       Suddenly, weird noises droned in my head, even over the horrendous snorting, snuffling and snoring of the Peke. Annalee had gotten off the bed, and was now sitting on the floor, staring at the half opened door. As you may remember, if you have read my blog or Facebook posts, Annalee or "The DOOB" as we call her, is a very odd dog. She was only 4 months old when we adopted her, but has always been odd. Scared of doors, scared of  her own tail (which is 3 inches at the base and very strong) banging against stuff, scared of plastic grocery bags, scared of people. She managed to have some sort of traumatic puppyhood in those first 4 months, and is actually lucky we adopted her. The rest of the litter was all waggy and friendly, and happy, and licking, but I said I wanted that timid, scared and sad looking puppy slinking around the back of the cage. So, she came home with us, and with lots of love, (until tonight) has come a long way. She very likely would have not made out as well with some other family that isn't as patient (until tonight) and understanding (until tonight) as we have been with her. But I digress.
        I wake up to see her staring at the half opened door, which of course she will not attempt to go through, even though there is room. I try to just lure her back on the bed, (yes, I was that tired), and then I told her just lay down. No go. She has a habit of "talking", low moans and groans, grunts, woofs, and weird voice like noises. I tell ya..one odd dog. So, she kept talking until I figured I had better get up and open up that door. It had become apparent she was never going to shut up, and I was never going to sleep.
       I get up, all stiff legged as is my usual these days, and look toward the door. I have a regular obstacle course in my way...dog bed, laundry basket, Biloxi, and Annalee blocking the door. So, I called her, and headed out our second exit, which goes into the bathroom and out into the living room, which is where I assumed she wanted to go. I hobble my way into the bathroom, quietly calling for her. I opened up that door, (nice and wide), and turn expecting to see her behind me. No dog.
       "Annalee!" I whisper/holler. Nothing. I stumble back towards the bedroom, saying "where are you?? The door is open..."
       I stepped back into the bedroom, and there she was..sprawled all across my side of the bed. Oh, I see. Playing Dirty. I think she is much smarter then we ever gave her credit for. I squeeze onto the edge of my (former) spot on the bed, and immediately get her in a headlock, and give her a couple "nuggies". Her tail was flailing around, tunking Cliffy on his side, as her tongue was snaking out trying to lick my face in apology, I wasn't having any of that. I grabbed her giant feet and tried my darndest to drag her butt back into the middle so I could lay back down. I managed to eek out a one and a half foot wedge of bed, and then squeezed my two and a half foot butt back into bed. Annalee is sighing happily, Molly is snoring, totally oblivious. Cliffy is back asleep, and I am wide awake. Might as well write a blog, I decided.
      Dogs, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. I got my blog done, and I still have time to go back in and fight for my bedspot. Just a word of advice. When you go to an animal shelter, and you see a cute pup with the tagline.."small dog breed", be prepared. Chances are, you too will be tricked into losing your sleeping quarters in the middle of the night. I just hope this happens to someone else, so that I am not the ONLY person tricked out of her bed spot by a dog named DOOB.
"So, you getting up soon? Hello?? Hello? "

Monday, December 22, 2014

1 Am ....throwing in the towel

Small dog breed pup
Sleep. I used to be able to sleep all night, with no interruptions. To quote the 1970's ish song - "Those were the days, my friend, we thought they'd never end..." But, end they have. And it isn't pretty. Last night was a perfect example of why I have bags large enough to carry a couch under my eyes. This is how it went...

       1 Am... Sleeping soundly, which after a dialysis session, feels especially wonderful.

       1:15 Am...I am jolted from sleep by the high pitched cry of a dog at the end of the bed. Adrenalin running, I bolt upright..saying What? What? Who was that? Annalee, our 100 pound, "small breed" dog leaps over my body, stepping on my bad ankle on her way off the bed in terror. I see Cliffy making his way around the end of the bed in the low light from the Christmas tree in the living room. "That was Biloxi..I stepped on her foot by accident trying to step over her." "Ohhh, ok" I said, and I laid back down, rubbing my sore ankle with my  other foot.

     1:30 Am...Cliffy comes back to bed, and I try and get Annalee to go out on the couch, instead of sleeping on the bed with us. She came from a shelter, and her paper work said she was a Bulldog/Basset hound mix. They also said she was a "small breed dog". She is huge..over 100 pounds of long legs, and muscles and oddness. When we got her, we said she could sleep with us on the bed, as she was a "small breed dog" and we figured there was room for her on the king sized bed. Now, she is huge, and insists on sleeping where she slept as a pup, wedged between mom and dad. It is like there are three adults in the bed every night. No good. Up she comes anyway.

    2:00 Am...Biloxi, who has laid down on the floor beside the bed, lets out a giant, loud, old lady dog fart. I said to myself, please let that not be stinky. No such luck. The smell of rotting dog food, peppered with a sprinkling of nasty stuff found on a farm, rose up on my right, and with the help of the HFF (Hot Flash Fan), it was blown right across my pillow, since I have it trained on me to help with the emergency, middle of the night cooling. Under the blankets, I go.

  2:30 Am...Still awake, and under the blankets. Since I didn't have a canary handy to test for gases, I had to stick my head out to test the air. I found out it was a tad stale, but no longer toxic. Toss and turn, I try and get comfy, but no luck.

 2:31 Am...In all my tossing and turning, I gave myself a hot flash. I tossed the blanket off me, and it went over Annalee's head, which of course, since she is odd, caused her to panic. Up she jumps again. I pulled the blanket off,  and told her to lay down, or even better..go out on the couch. I get back to matters at hand, and start to fan myself with my pillow. Annalee starts her spin, and before I could grab my blankets out from under her, down she plunks...right along side me. She is pressed up against me, all along my side, and since she is 6 feet from nose to tip of tail, she goes the whole length. She contentedly plunks her head on my hip, sighs happily and dozes off. Oh my. I am, as my Nanny would say..a reek of sweat, and I have this extra large fur blanket on me.

 3:05 Am...I am sufficiently cooled off, having shoved the dog off, and opened the window. Now, I am of course, cold. I close the window over my head and feel for my blanket, which is under the darn dog. "Annalee!!" I exclaim in a whisper, trying not to wake Cliffy who somehow has managed to sleep through the last couple of hours. "For Gods sake, get up!" I said.

 3:10 Am...Annalee decides she has had more then enough bothering, and finally jumps off the bed, heading for the couch. At last. I spread out, pull the blankets up to my chin, and settle in for a long winter's nap.

 3:20 Am...Molly, the Pekinese, starts up with the loudest snoring I have ever heard. She is always snuffly, and congested due to her breed, but man, she was laying on her back, and sawing them off.
I nudge her with my foot. Nothing. Nudge her again. She rolls over and gets up, sneezes and comes up to the head of the bed, where she nestles in between Cliffy and I. Good. Peace on earth.

 3:24 Am...Cliffy starts snoring.  Time to throw in that towel.

Small dog breed no more..and this is without Cliffy..Also Pekinese has staked her claim..on her mother.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

A "Nothing to do Day"..

Snowy day at Homeland Farm
Well, it doesn't happen often, but today is one of those rare days where I have nothing to do. Nothing at all, and I am going to enjoy it. I am usually pretty busy around the house, and it is rare that I have everything caught up, but as it happens, this is one of those occasions.
    Now, let me see..what can I do with all my relaxation time. I think I will maybe take a nap, and...ohh, wait.  I have to go wash up the dishes from last night. Be right back.

    Ok, I am back. I just had to wash up the pots and pans from supper last night. SO..now what to do with all my free time. I could practice my crocheting, that Helen has been so kind to try and teach me. That sounds like a good "free time" activity. I have managed to learn how to....oh, hang on a minute. I have to go feed the pig his breakfast.

     Ok, I am back. Robin Williams is a pot bellied pig living outside my kitchen door. I cook him a nice, hot breakfast every morning, and if I don't get it out to him at a proper hour, he bangs on the door and squeals loudly until I do. So, where was I? Ohh yes...relaxation. Yes, I can practice my crocheting for sure. I also have a stack of new magazines to read over, so I think...hang on. Be right back. I have to start a fire in the kitchen wood stove.

     Ok, I am back. The kitchen is cold in the morning, so I had to get a fire started. It is starting to get warmer in there now, but hang on...gotta go get an arm load of wood. Be right back.

      Ok, fire is roaring and it is now nice and toasty in the kitchen. So! Day of leisure, here I come. You know what? I don't even think I am going to cook meals today. I am REALLY going to have a day of relaxation. Except, we are going to put in our Christmas tree today, so I think I will go make some fudge. Fudge and Christmas tree decorating go hand in hand, so I will be right back. Hang on..

      Ok, I am back. Peanut butter fudge is now firming up on the shelf, and it is going to be good. I love fudge, it reminds me so much of the holid---hang on. Dogs want to go out. Be right back.

      Ok, I am back. Dogs wanted to get outside and play in the snow. What was I saying? Oh yes, fudge. Yes, it does remind me so much of the holid---hang on. Dogs want to come back in. Be right back.

      Ok, I am back. I don't even know where I was..Holidays Yes..I love Christmas. I think it is my favorite holiday of the year. Although I do enjoy Easter as well. I really think I just like any holiday that has a good meal involved. Speaking of meals..I am hungry. I think a hearty french toast breakfast is in order on this snowy day. Be back shortly.

       Ok, I am back. I wasn't going to cook, but I was hungry and made french toast. It was good, but now I suppose I better go do dishes. Crap. I have to unload the dishwasher from last night's supper first. Hang on, be right back.

       Ok, I am back. Bridgton has the Festival of Lights parade tonight, and I think I will go. That sounds like a good activity for a day of nothing to do. I wonder if I have any clean jeans? I better go do laundry. Be right back.

        Ok, I am back. Washed a load of clothes and folded a load in the dryer. Now, I have clean jeans for the parade tonight. These days with nothing to do are great. I should have more of...hang on. I need to go feed the cats. Be right back.

       Ok, I am back. Cats are fed, and I had to change the litter box. It was a very unpleasant job on my free day, but it had to be done. Darn cats. They are more trouble then they are wor...hang on. Dogs are barking. Be right back.

       Ok, I am back. Dogs wanted to go out. I decided to be smart and wait for them, before I came back in to the computer. They tracked in a mess of snow, so I had to sweep up the floor, and then wipe it up. Dogs are messy and don't seem to care about this being my day off. Not very considerate....hang on. Stove needs wood. Be right back.

       Ok, I am back. Put wood in stove, and also ate a piece of fudge. Time to get Christmas stuff out of attic for tree decorating. Be right back.

      Ok, I am back. Many boxes later, I have all the tree decorating stuff in the living room. Whew! That was a lot of work for my day off. I will have to get kids to put decorations on tree. Now, where was I? Ahh yes, a free day. I think I will take a nap now, get all rested up before the tree decorating and the Festival of Lights in town. Who knew a day off could be so exhausting?? I am going to go nap. Be right back.

     Ok, I am back. I went in to take my nap, and found the dogs had jumped up on the bed, and left it all snowy and wet dog smell. I am in the process of washing all my bedding. No nap for me. I love a king sized bed, until it comes time to make it. It is a lot of work, going side to side changing the sheets. Cliffy usually helps me, but he is away on a vacation, so I am soloing. Gotta swap the laundry. Be right back.

     Ok, I am back. I have decided I am going to cancel my "nothing to do day". They are way too much work.

Liam and Molly decorating last years tree

Friday, November 28, 2014

Hello Santa, it's me Carmen...

An early letter to Santa...

        Dear Santy...

               Well, it is a bit early for a letter I know, but I have had a little "incident", and it made it very clear what I should ask for this Christmas. As you are probably aware, I have bad knees, and while it would be really cool if you could give me two good knee joints, I know that isn't an option. Since the last three days have been pretty darn busy with Thanksgiving and all it's work, followed by a rousing dialysis session in which they tried desperately to suck off 2 bottles of champagne, I have been pretty much riding on my Rascal scooter all afternoon. That is how "the incident" occurred.
              After my post dialysis nap, I hopped onto my scooter and cruised to the kitchen, granny nightie and all, trying to figure out a simple supper that did not involve turkey. (or champagne.) I rode here and there, mulled over a tuna fish sandwich...maybe eggs...nope. What I wanted was a nice slab of prime rib since someone mentioned those two words someplace earlier in my day, but alas. No prime rib. If only I felt like the leftover 12 pounds of turkey in the fridge...but no.
            Cereal seemed blah. I felt (as I often do after dialysis) like something salty, so I decided on a toasted cheese and a bowl of ramen. Cam and Cliff were wandering around, also mulling over their choices, but as it turned out, both had left the room during "the incident."
             I boiled up my ramen, and as it cooked, I slapped together my sandwich. I took the ramen off, and set it on a pot holder on the table, and then set the fry pan on the burner to cook my toasted cheese. I whizzed here and there while it was cooking, getting my spoon..a plate..a glass. I zipped back to the stove...when it happened.
             I took the sandwich off the burner, and dumped it on my plate. Then I set the plate on the table, the fry pan on a cold burner, then reached over to turn off the stove. I clicked it to off, and started to roll back to the table, when I saw smoke. From my sleeve. Yep, I was on fire.
            Now, I am fine, and typing two handed so all is well of course. But my, it was truly exciting for a few seconds. I think I said some sort of expletive..and started slapping my granny with the spatula I still held in my hand. Now, it is funny how much can crash through your mind in a split second or two. I swear..I thought of all these things as I was putting out the fire..

A...Dang it! There goes one of my best nighties
B...Riding on a scooter while on fire gives new meaning to "stop, drop and roll.."
C...Why does this smell better then my supper..
and last but not least...great..now I am an old person tv commercial...(DOES YOUR MOTHER CATCH HER GRANNY NIGHTIE ON FIRE WHILE COOKING?? GET HER AN EMERGENCY BEEPER!)
              So, after I threw the spatula, and just started slapping with my hand, the fire was out in a few seconds, and I was no worse for wear. I do have a nicely burnt 6 inch hole in my sleeve, and a story for the grandchildren some day, if I am ever allowed to take care of them after this...
              So dear Santa, if you have room on your sleigh, could you please slip in a new granny nightie for me? Any color will do..I'm not fussy. (Except after today, maybe not fire engine red..I might have a flashback.) Thanks Santa..Your a pal!

            I promise to leave you a whole plate of cookies! No bake, of course. Thanks again.

                                       Love, Carmen

PS..Cliffy says please drop him off a fire extinguisher, 'cause he has a hot one on his hands.
This would be the nightie..and sleeve in question

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Ooopps! Sorry about that!

      I like a speedy vehicle, I admit it. I imagine you are thinking I am talking about driving in a car. Nope, not a car. I am talking about driving in what we call a "go buggy". You know what I am talking about...Those motorized scooters they provide for us gimpy folks at most big box stores.
      Since my knees have taken a turn for the worse, I have to ride on them if I am planning on shopping for more then 15 minutes at a time. If I don't ride, and am shopping for more then 15 minutes, my left leg goes numb due to the previous blood clots I had in that leg. Then my bad knees kick in, and I am miserable and in pain in no time. So now, a "go buggy" is a necessity for me.
      At first, I hated using them in stores, but now I hate pain even more, so ride I do. Walmart usually has a good supply of them for people to use, and only once did I have to knock an old lady out of the way to get the last one. Kidding! I'm kidding, of course. Hannaford  has only one, so I have to get there and hope for the best. I am usually in luck however..this town is full of healthy nimble folks!
       So, I now ride, and frankly, since I have gotten the hang of it, I rather like it. I am especially pleased when I get a newer model. The older models limp along, wheels wobbling and gears squealing. The newer models are fun...and fast. Ok, and can be a danger, as this next story will explain.
       Let me set the scene..Walmart, a busy pre-holiday friday. The store was crowded, so really, it wasn't my fault. Brogan, Cameron and I were doing a "big shop". I just realized we are a family of air quotes.."Go buggy". "Big shop". "Hazardous driving". Oh, wait. I am getting ahead of myself.
       Brogan, Cameron and I were doing a big shop. I was riding my buggy, Cam and Bro were each pushing a buggy. Cameron was designated "food buggy' "(more air quotes) and Brogan was "other stuff" buggy,  you know like toilet paper, cleaning products etc.
       We were making our way through the crowded aisles, trying to avoid people, but with our convoy, it wasn't easy. Two buggies and a go buggy take up a lot of space, but we were giving it our best shot. We were about half way through the aisles, when we came to the baking aisle, my favorite aisle in the store. I do a lot of cooking, so I usually need a fair amount of supplies in that aisle, and like to take my time, making sure I don't leave anything off my list.
        Apparently, many other folks like to bake as well, because on this particular day, it was busy. VERY busy. People were stacked up, trying to get by each other, looking for their items, but not having much room to maneuver. I was also there, weaving and bobbing my way down the aisle. I got half way down the aisle when I stopped in front of the spice rack, looking for what I needed, and checking prices. Cam was right behind me, and Brogan was behind him. We were a force to be reckoned with.
        I was stopped and had turned in my chair to face the rack of spices. As I sat facing the rack, I saw out of the corner of my eye, a woman near me on the other side of the aisle. I took down what I needed and turned to gently squeeze them into the over flowing small basket they have for you on those go buggies, since Cam's food buggy was getting pretty full. That's when, IT HAPPENED.
        I was done with the spices, and saw just ahead on my side of the aisle, something else I needed.
I squeezed the forward lever, and drove forward. BUMP, BUMP!
        "HEY! Ohhh..." came this voice, from down someplace in front of my buggy. I leaned forward and peered over the top of my groceries, and yep, I had run down a woman, knocking her clean off her feet. She was sitting down, kind of under the front of my buggy, but thankfully not under my tires. BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!! I backed off her, hollering to Cam and Bro to help her up quickly.
        Now, I would love to say Cam and Bro both ran forward to help get the poor woman up off her feet, but frankly, no that didn't happen. Cam, right behind me, had this paralyzed look of fear on his red face and I don't think he could move to save his life. Brogan analyzed the situation quickly and opted to pretend she was just some random shopper, not the daughter of the hit and run go buggy driver. Actually, even if they both had moved, the woman, despite hearing my profuse apologies had NO sense of humor, and probably would have brushed off any offers of help.
          She got up, brushed off her pants, shot me a very nasty look, grabbed her buggy and stormed off down the aisle. I was immediately swarmed by my children..MOM!! What did you do!! OMG!'
Now, to be fair..she was the one that knelt down right in front of my buggy, completely out of sight.
How was I supposed to see her all tucked down there, almost touching my full basket. I waited til she was out of sight...then busted out laughing. I wasn't laughing at her, and felt bad I creamed her. But, I just had to laugh at the expressions on Brogan  and Cameron's faces as they stood behind me, in that "do I know her or not" moment. They just LOVE going out in public with me.
         We laughed and laughed (well I did anyway), and then spent the rest of our shopping trip trying to avoid eye contact with that poor woman. We never did see her again, and I am sure she went home and wrote on her blog how some gimpy woman with wild eyed kids ran her over in the baking aisle of Walmart.
          So, there is a lesson to learn from this blog. Never load too much into the buggy basket at the store. Oh, and for Goodness sake, NEVER kneel down in front of someone's motorized go buggy at Walmart. Oh...and maybe, if you see me coming in the store, you might wanna get outta the way...Just sayin'.........
Molly heard about my driving...makes sure she is ON ME, instead of in front of me!