Life at Homeland Farm

     In case you have been wondering where I have been lately, we have been very busy here at Homeland Farm. Here is a small ditty to explain what I have been doing lately.       Walking "Round with Stinky Under (my) Arm" Sing to the tune of Walking in a Winter Wonderland, Please..        We have an old cat,         his name is Stinky         he has a big sore,         the size of my pinkie         we thought he would die,         and even started to cry,         Walking 'Round with Stinky Under (my)Arm          He started to ooze,          from under his tail,          I tried to blot,          but to no avail          off to the vet,          big money, you bet,          Walking 'Round with Stinky Under (my) Arm           The Vet said you can save him if you want to,            I said well, it is almost Christmas Eve,            She said all you need is lots of patience,            and a bit of doctoring- roll up your sleeves            So

   So, I was on Facebook today, putting on an assortment of pictures from this summers activities here at Homeland Farm. And there was one thing that kept leaping out at me...The one thing I came to realize is that some people really should NOT be photographed. In any light. Under any circumstances. Ever.    Then, of course there are some people who do not, can not  or will not EVER take a bad picture. Don't believe me? Let me show you some perfect examples.....Exhibits A-E... Brogan with her boyfriend Brogan with her Mother      Liam cuddling with his cute pet Me cuddling with my cute pet Me hanging around the farm..                                   Cameron hanging around the farm Brogan in dining room with her little creature Me in dining room with my little creature Liam and his baking Me with mine    So you see what I mean, there are just some people that should never be photographed. Ever. I'm just wondering who is going to b

     Once again, it is Labor Day weekend, and I am wondering where our summer went. I really  believe that the older you get, the faster time flies. Seems like it was just the 4th of July, and now here we are on the verge of September. We were in the parade this year, with a float representing my daughters animal rescue. We managed to pull off  the "Judges Choice" prize, not bad for about 2 hours work. In the past, we have merely been parade watchers, blending in with the rest of the crowd. Except,  of course, for that one notable year..the one year Zenya and I almost got arrested.      Now I wish I could say it was Zenya's fault, but alas, it was mine. Oddly enough, I think that was the last year she accompanied me to the parade. Weird. I thought we had fun. Funny how something "fun" in one person's eyes could be seen as illegal in another persons eyes.       It all started innocently enough. I was planning on taking my kids to the parade with the rest of

     This is a top ten list of true events that have happened at Homeland Farm. While you may not believe it, these events really did happen, and now I just need to find time to write about them all. I hope you enjoy reading the list, and I look forward to explaining at a later date.So, here we go...           HOMELAND FARMS TOP TEN LIST Number 10...I was saved from death by my guardian angel..                     (actually written already..will write on blog for                      those that never saw the magazine article.) Number 9...Cabelas doesn't allow me in their store anymore. Number 8...I delivered a foal while people watched and ate                   coffee and cookies. Number 7...I outran a mad cow. (Back when I could run.) Number 6...My grandmother was at my wedding, even though                    she had passed away. Number 5...We had a very naughty monkey. Number 4...I  have been attacked by an angry goose, a very                    "insiste

       Memorial Day, the last Monday in the month of May, has been set aside to remember fallen soldiers and those who have served our country in the Armed Forces. It is also a day when families remember their loved ones who have passed away, often by placing flowers on their graves. I am part of a family that plants over 30 red Geraniums at the stones of four generations of our family.         My brother, sister and I were fortunate to have been able to grow up surrounded by the older generations of our kinfolk. Great aunts and uncles, my grandparents, aunt, uncles and cousins galore were an immediate part of our daily lives. We didn't get dressed up on Sunday to go visit the grandparents, and we weren't forced to kiss the great aunts and uncles once a year at awkward family reunions. No, they participated in births, deaths, and everything in between. Birthday parties, cookouts in summer, haying, holidays and road trips. They were an active, loved part of our family gathering

      As you might know by now, (if you are a regular blog reader) I had the opportunity to grow up with many different types of farm animals. We had everything from horses, cattle, and sheep, to dogs, cats and ducks. I think it all stemmed from having a mother that was a big animal lover. Every stray or unwanted animal in town seemed to find it's way to our door, via the back seat of my Mother's station wagon.       One day, my brother, sister and I were sitting in the kitchen after school when we suddenly heard our mother's horn blaring. We went out on the porch and watched  as she turned into the driveway ever so slowly. We knew for her to be driving that slowly, she must either be out of gas, or have an animal in the backseat of the car.        Sure enough, as she drove past us, there was some type of animal in the backseat. We ran around the house just in time to see her drop the tailgate of the car down, and out hopped a shaggy, brown burro.        "Gabriel&qu

      Back when I was "in my prime", I used to think of myself as a pretty good rider. Western, anyway. I could never quite get the hang of posting a trot, or master the art of jumping. Not that I didn't try, however.      One evening after supper, I went over to Zenya's house to try jumping our horses with her. At this point, she had tired of riding my old nags, and had bought her own horse, a part Arabian that loved to jump.      As Angel and I headed over the road, I hummed to myself in anticipation of the evenings events. Angel, my Quarter Horse type mare, had jumped over fallen logs and streams without hesitation on the trail, so I thought a few small jumps in an open field would seem like a piece of cake to the old girl.     We trotted around the corner of Zenya's house, and I saw Teke and Zenya out in the field, heading for the next jump. As graceful as any horse I had seen on television or at a horse show, they sailed over the jump, horse and rider in c

       As I mentioned in my last blog, I have been watching way too much television lately. I don't usually pay much attention to the commercials but a few have caught my eye lately and I have been giving them much thought. I guess I am really out of the loop, because I hadn't heard of this plague that has apparently been causing a lot of issues for many people, according to the number of advertisements I have seen. Frankly, I hardly dare go outside any more, lest I come across one of the bad boys.        I am sure there are many readers out in "Blog-land" that are by far more sophisticated and aware then I am. Perhaps you can fill me in on what it is exactly I should be looking for, so I can protect myself and my family from the potential dangers that are associated with these terrible creatures.       According to the commercials, these beasts seem to stalk middle aged people, and they can do it inside their home, in the middle of a walk, or even while taking a ba

Liam as Mr Drysdale, ready to defend Homeland Farm      I have a really good reason for not having posted anything in the last couple days. I got caught up in reality television. I really don't watch much T.V. at all, with the exception of an occasional cooking show and the news. Oh, and of course, reruns of "The Walton's".  Recently though, Liam was watching a couple different shows, and well, I got sucked in. Boy, do they ever have some odd shows on television these days. It is apparent that they are really grasping at straws for show ideas.     Which gave me an idea for tonight's blog. I am thinking us folks at Homeland Farm need a reality show. We just need to decide what it is going to be about, and then we will start filming A&E channels newest hit show. I think the storyline will be a bunch of shows all rolled into one. Here is what I've got so far....       The intro has to be catchy, of course..to lure the viewers in. Now on the show called

    Owning a farm with a variety of animals made it hard for our family to get away for a vacation, or even an overnight camping trip for that matter. So, my siblings and I would pitch our old canvas tent at home, and pretend we were out deep in the wilderness, surrounded by wild creatures. We had a lot of fun in that old tent, but one memory sticks out in my mind the most     My sister and I decided one steamy summer night that we wanted to "camp out." While my mother packed our snacks, Kim and I lugged our pillows and sleeping bags over to the tent that my father had set up earlier that day. Now for some unknown reason, we always pitched the tent in the horse pasture, underneath one of the apple trees. Every year after we set it up, the horses and steers would check it out carefully, then pretty much ignore it the rest of the summer.       Kim and I made several trips across the pasture hauling our "supplies" for the night. You would have thought we were spendin

             I was mowing the lawn for the first time this spring, and reluctantly kept mowing off patches of Blu-ets. Those little clumps of white flowers with a hint of blue were always a favorite of mine as a child. Seeing them in the spring always meant another long Maine winter was over, and spring was upon us at last.         As a little girl, I would walk around on the lawn, or in the field and pull up big handfuls of the little flowers to give to my grandmother. Nanny, as we all called her, would oohhh and aahhh over them like I had just presented her with a dozen long stemmed roses. She would take my little fistful of blooms, dirt and all, put them in a jelly jar, and set them on the table. Whenever someone new came in, she would exclaim " See what Carmen gave me?"      I would be so proud of my offering, and can still recall her picking up the  jar full of flowers and taking a big sniff. "Ahhhh" she would say, and I would grin with pleasure. Anyone th

          Did I mention that Zenya and I used to ride real races horses? Well, we used to ride ONE real race horse..actually, I rode the real race horse. Zenya rode Ebony. Let me back up.           One of our first horses was a retired Standardbred race horse by the name of BJ Frisco. She was a tall, leggy chestnut, whose coat shone a fiery red on a nice sunny day. Even though she was retired, she loved to run, or should I say trot, because Standardbreds are trained to never break into a canter. If they go any faster then a trot, they are disqualified. During the time we had that horse, I never remember her breaking out of a trot. But, that was fine with me, because boy could she trot.             I guess it was inevitable that we started racing each other, me on BJ, and Zenya on Ebony, our old Quarter Horse. I am not sure why it was that I always got to ride the fast horse, except for the fact that I liked it that way. Yeah, that was probably it. Not that Ebony couldn't keep up,

         I love pigs. They are very comical and fun to watch when they eat their dinner. Oh sure, they have a bad rap about smelling bad, and living in a "pig sty" but if you have ever had a pig, you know they are clean animals that pick one spot in their pen to go to the bathroom. I wish my cats were as tidy.         I remember about 30 years ago when my sister, brother and I were discussing what to get our mother for Mother's Day. She wasn't big on chocolates (then), and my father always gave her flowers, so all the traditional gifts were out. Then it hit me.         "How about a piglet?" I asked my fellow siblings, sure they would think the idea was as dandy as I did. My brother, who was thinking she would much rather have a BB Gun, wasn't so sure about a piglet. My sister just out and out thought the idea was "stupid."         When I approached my father with the idea however, he thought it was a great idea and got my sister and brothe

       I am not sure exactly when it happened, but apparently I got old. I think it must have happened sometime after my 49th birthday, as near as I can figure. It seemed one day I was a young, vibrant 48 year old, and then next BAM! Old people catalogs started filling my mailbox. Ordinarily, I  don't really look at the stack of catalogs I receive almost daily. I only glance at them as I stuff them into the recycle bag.      They range, well, let me rephrase that, they USED to range from horse owner catalogs to cooking catalogs, from LL Bean outerwear, to a country woman catalog featuring nice colorful sweatshirts and calenders. All pretty mundane stuff.       However, lately I have noticed a distinct trend, and frankly, I don't like it one bit. Old people catalogs. Now, perhaps someone in cyberspace read my blog about being "not as good as I once was.." and then there was the reference I made to being a bit "past my prime." However, this gives no reason f