Life at Homeland Farm

   No insomnia to be seen here Welcome to another episode of insomnia! We are so glad you are back. Our guest today is the lovely blog mistress Carmen C. Horton. She will now attempt to write a poem that rhymes despite the fact that it is the middle of the night! BUT FIRST! A word from our sponsor!      Tired of going to bed and waking up rested?      Sick of sleeping like the proverbial log?      Well, we have something that will eliminate that problem       with ease!       Try BLOAT-O FROZEN PIZZA!       With BLOAT-O, you can kiss your good nights sleep        GOODBYE! Try one slice for a night of mere tossing and       turning. Two slices will guarantee at least one hour of       awake time after midnight. But, if you try three slices,  ...

Homeland Farm   As many of my blog readers know, we have had 5 generations of our family live here in this old farmhouse. Starting with my great grandmother Allie, it has been in our family for over 100 years. Many of my ancestors were born here, lived here and some even died here. Many as well, are buried in the back cemetery-Homeland Cemetery. Homeland Cemetery       Due to the long family history of this farm, my family believes that there have been many visitors from the beyond, and many of us have seen, heard or felt things that can not be "explained away". One of these experiences happened to me a couple nights ago.        I was sound asleep when I woke up with a pain in my hand. As I lay in bed trying to go back to sleep, I suddenly heard a man's voice coming from the room upstairs over my bed. My 13 year old son Liam sleeps in that room, and I thought "he is supposed to be asleep!" I wondered why he was still...

We were in desperate need of a good fire starter, and I am nothing if not a women's liberation gal!    Just was looking for a specific photo in my albums, and I didn't find it. What I did find, however, were many photos that should never have seen the light of day. SO..why not bust them out. It's hump day..a day in need of a laugh to make it through the rest of the week. Have fun! Exhibit A.. I swear, a neck like that should only be seen on a football player..oh, and what is with that blonde 'fro? Exhibit B.. Who looks the most pathetic? A toss up.. Exhibit C.. Never mind the moustache...there are more whiskers on that chin then on the goats in the barn! MAAAAA!!! Exhibit D.. Even the horses run when they see me coming(esp while wearing a granny)..AND Exhibit E... Carrot Top? Is that you? So..another day ends at Homeland Farm, where self esteem goes to die.Tune in next week to see what sad looking creature will appear on my blog!

   Happy New Year to one and all. I hope everyone had a great holiday night, and I hope we all have a healthy 2014. We are off to a wonderful start, and by wonderful, I mean we are having a snow storm. Oh, and bitter cold. Oh, and I mean wonderful in a very sarcastic way.      I spent the first two days of 2014 by doing what I do best...cooking and cleaning. Okay, I cook pretty well, but cleaning..not so much. It had to be done however, so I vacuumed, cleaned a few windows, ( Why do I have so many windows..just curious), and even dusted a bit. When I say 'dusted a bit', that means I pulled the sleeve of my sweater down over my hand, and did the worst spots. Then had to change, as one arm was really pretty dirty.     I always start in the end of the house and work my way out to the kitchen, and finish in the laundry room, or as some people call it..the mud room. I have seen many so called mud rooms in all the house wife magazines I get and t...

Cliffy and his new pal Molly Magoo     Once again, it is December 31st. Once again, I say "where did the last year go?" My grandmother always said, the older you get, the faster time goes, and she was certainly right. I can not believe it is almost 2014.      So, I will do one last blog for the year, and will make it a recap of the fun and frivolity that happened here at Homeland Farm in the last 12 months! Ferg the pot belly pig came to live with us Goat on the glider, ei ei ooooo Doober dog on the well Stewbeef roasting on an open fire.. Cowboy Cliffy rides again skinny alpacas came to us from an auction a wild chupacabra came to live with us in the spring Speaking of spring, strawberry season was divine.. we were very busy all year..making jam by the case hay by the ton warmed baby pigs by the dozen.. paraded down Main Street..no really! took care of baby bunnies pain...

Here, just in time for Christmas, is the book I wrote about 20 years ago. It is certainly a long time in coming, but it is here and I am celebrating! (Note the bubbly). SO in honor of the release of my published short stories...a little poem...Ahem..  Twas three days before Christmas,   and all through the farm,   Champagne was a flowing,   And doing no harm.   The book it was done,   a reason to party,   the author just hoped,   she would look like a smarty.   She wrote of horses,and pigs   riding, and chickens,   Ok, so it is pretty simple reading,   and certainly not Dickens.    But give it out as a present,    the author surely does plan,    Christmas is near,    and it is probably better then jam..    So the children all snuggle    deep in their beds,    and hope that the sequel,    won't fill them with dread. ...

       Ahh, menopause..you are such a hag. My sleeping habits have not been my own since I turned 50. I used to fall into bed and sleep like the proverbial log all night, back in the day. Now, I am hot flashing, and tossing and turning all night, every night.       It is the same thing about every evening. I go to bed chilly, with cold feet as the floors in this old farmhouse are always cold. I slide into bed, and sigh a happy sigh as the electric blanket has done its job.      "Ahh, nice and warm," says I..at that moment. The Doober dog (Annalee) will usually come in and join me on the bed, and I shove my cold feet under her butt, as that is the quickest way to warm them up. I fall into blissful slumber, and soon hear Cliffy come in to join us. We push and shove the dog pile around to make room for him, although I often feel like the innkeeper in Bethlehem, telling him there is no room at the inn. Umm..my toes are lower, dog.. ...