tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60597597063464265442024-03-14T05:10:27.831-05:00Fairchild FarmgirlI'm Just One Cow Pie From a Full SpreaderFairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.comBlogger170125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-75832113969117200832014-04-22T22:18:00.000-05:002014-04-22T22:18:22.944-05:00One Of My Babies Just Got Bigger<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is my Rachel. She's as sweet as pudding and likes to hug anything in her path; dogs, dads, moms, siblings, assorted kids and sometimes the feed rep. If she could hug the Schwanns man she would. <br />
<br />
She graduated Headstart today. <br />
<br />
Technically, she is going back next year with her little brother in tow. Poor Sally and Lola, I don't think they know what they signed up for, two Fairchild kids could be good for your heart after all. <br />
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I had to have an inner chuckle (that's the kind you do so your kids don't think that your laughing at them). She was wearing a crazy outfit with bright purple tights on. "This is what she wanted," Ashlyn said rolling her eyes, (we have a lot of eye rolling at our house. With a 14 year old and two 12's, eyes roll so much I'm surprised eyes aren't rolling down the driveway).<br />
<br />
Anyway, as I looked at her outfit, I thought about how my mom would've handled this day and the clothing. I mentioned to Ron that when our ship came in, we were going to have to buy all the girls some dress shoes, and then I wiped the mud off her tennis shoes with a wet rag and put them on her over the loud purple tights. He mentioned back that either they would wear new dress shoes in the feedlot or take them off at the trampoline, then forget about them and Fluffybear would have a bunch of new chew toys. <br />
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He's right you know. <br />
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My mom, well I know what she'd have done. She'd have wiped the mud off of the old crusty tennis shoes and put them on over the loud purple tights and said how pretty we were. That's her and I always pray that I take after her...love ya madre. You too Rachel...I'm so proud of them both.<br />
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Happy Trails,<br />
Suzanne<br />
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PS Find my mom's cool sewing stuff on Etsy. <a href="http://www.etsy.com/people/NancysNimbleThimble">http://www.etsy.com/people/NancysNimbleThimble</a>Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-39626211507730891472014-04-22T21:39:00.000-05:002014-04-22T21:39:12.848-05:00It's A Little Smoky In The Mudroom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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One minute I'm excited about the prospects of it.<br />
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Then one comes along and I'm like, "huh??"<br />
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That was this past Sunday. I got hit with reality right between the eyes...(actually I got kicked by it; on the knee). <br />
<em></em><br />
<em>That's what I'll name the calf...reality!</em><br />
<em></em><br />
Ron, Cody and I were sorting fats after church when we heard it: <br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Maaaaa!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
"Did you hear that?" Ron looked at me and it did it again. <br />
<br />
Yep...a baby calf.<br />
<br />
We got it in the house and in the tub. I know, but thats what us farmers do to warm up calves fast. Give them a bath. <br />
<em></em><br />
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<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-34695517489783691652013-09-29T22:33:00.001-05:002014-04-22T21:38:03.975-05:00October...Frost On Your Pumpkins, Mice in Your House and Weirdly Dressed Little People<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Rachel came in wearing this get up. "Mom, this is what I'm going to be for Halloween!" She exclaims, puffing out her chest to show off the "S". I didn't have the heart to tell her it was a boys costume, partly because she would have said that the wild wig made it a girls get up or, let's just face it...<br />
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<i>She's a huge tom boy and wouldn't have cared anyway.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
She did take this off ONCE today to go pick up my truck from her uncle Dennis' body shop, she replaced it with a pink cheetah print dress with a slit so high she had to wear shorts. I didn't notice it until I followed her into the Alibi and I could see her back. Thank goodness Halloween comes only once a year. I can't imagine what my kids would wear on a daily basis.<br />
<i><br /></i>
So are you already for fall?<br />
<br />
I say this like I'm confident that I am ready for fall. Do you want to know a secret? I'm not. I've got a Pumpkin Patch to start in officially 6 days and I have so much to do it's not even funny.<br />
<br />
But, on to more important things. Not the fact that we picked 3,000 pounds of grapes for the winery this fall, but something much more sinister...<br />
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Mice.<br />
<br />
About two weeks ago, the kids were ready to leave for school when it happened:<br />
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<div>
"Mom, I just saw a rat go into the laundry room." Levi said very matter-of-factly. Knowing that I would freak out to the ends of the Earth, Grace, my 8 year old says, "Levi you probably just saw a fly or a grasshopper. RIGHT?" I caught her looking at me to make sure I wasn't going to pass out.</div>
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"No, it was a rat. I seen it. It came from the mud room and ran past Cody's backpack."</div>
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"How big was this rat" I asked him trying to remain calm. Well, he showed me, and it was a "mouse size". </div>
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Thank goodness, but still gross. </div>
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<div>
I made Ron set traps...all over. A combination of them. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Well, the kids stepped on the glue traps. Clothes from the dryer fell out of the basket and were glued to traps. The broom stuck to the traps and still no mouse and I was wearing my barn boots. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b><i>It had been precisely an hour and half since the mouse sighting.</i></b></div>
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<b><i> </i></b></div>
<div>
After Maggie came screaming into the bathroom with a victor trap on her finger, I decided to get the big guns... </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Socks", the sheep barn cat was coming in. Of course, this was just one mouse or so I hoped, but I was going to get it before it invited its friends in. I deliberated. Because after all, what if she had fleas? What would be worse? One mouse or fleas? </div>
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Definately one mouse...get the dang cat. </div>
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</div>
<div>
Well, Socks came in, not knowing what fleas look like, I searched her entire body for weird looking skin. She looked good and I put her to work.</div>
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<br /></div>
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After disappearing for half an hour, she finally came curling up to me acting like she could get used to the house when I felt her belly...she didn't "feel" full. I put her down in the basement...she went up those stairs faster then me. Finally someone that finds our basement as horrible as I do. I did again and the look I got from her meant that she was going to shut me down there when she beat me to the top a second time. I understood her look and then found her again relaxing under my bed. </div>
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I threw her back outside. </div>
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<i><b>I waited...it had been 5 hours since the mouse spotting</b></i>. </div>
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Naturally I couldn't continue to do the laundry. I was too scared. What if I lifted up a pair of someone's undies and found it to be a perfect hiding spot for the mouse. Nope. Not going in.</div>
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I thought about it and was going to clean the bathroom. It's really to close to the laundry room. I stayed away. </div>
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I finally went barefoot. I was daring. </div>
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Finally, Ron came in. He had caught the mouse in the last sticky trap that wasn't stuck to clothes, kids, broom or a wall. </div>
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All is well that ends well. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Sincerely, </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Fairchild "mouse free" Farmgirl</div>
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<i><br /></i>Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-86198384455659879062013-08-29T22:29:00.002-05:002014-04-22T21:38:14.424-05:00Fall Into Fall on the Fairchild Farm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Have you ever heard of people "speaking in tongues"? <br />
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Here at the Fairchild Farm, we speak in projects. Yep...projects. I never even paid much attention until we got our foreign exchange student from Holland. Him and I were making jam today, actually he was making it, I was telling how to do it.<br />
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(PS Never tell me that you've never cooked before and you are 17...I'll set you up.)<br />
<br />
Anyway, we were discussing what we were going to do next, talking in between learning about rolling boils as opposed to a regular boil when Lenn asked me what the next project was. <br />
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"We finished the hay, butchered the chickens, trimmed the grapes, we are working on wool now, then it's the Pumpkin Patch right?" He said.<br />
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<i>Not exactly....</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
First we harvest grapes, we still have work in the garden, we have school next week and a wool show mid September. Plus we have more chickens to butcher. He also runs Cross Country for Canby and is even more excited to play basketball for Canby this next season since back in Holland, they don't have school sports.<br />
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Without skipping a beat, he starts to laugh and tells me how excited he is for winter...when he can just sit around and read a book, because "we just have to feed the animals right"?<br />
<br />
He's never experienced a MN/SD snowstorm and shoveling...<br />
<br />
LOL!<br />
<br />
All in all, we are thrilled that Lenn is here. He loves to keep busy, learn how to do new things and make us laugh. He also loves to help with new ideas on how we should do things. He's very smart. Back home he lives 30 minutes from Amsterdam where there is 1150 people on the square mile. He can't get over how <i style="font-weight: bold;">WE </i> are it on the square mile. He loves the animals, the space, hanging out with all of us (or so he says, smile) and experiencing country life on a farm in a rural community.<br />
<br />
But do you know what he really loves? <br />
<br />
Jam, jam and more jam. I've never bought so much bread in my life! <br />
<br />
Anyway,<br />
Fairchild Farmgirl saying "vaarwel"<br />
<i>Goodbye in Dutch. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
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<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-28103985247934296202013-07-30T19:44:00.000-05:002014-04-22T21:38:21.730-05:00We Gone<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hi everybody. Have you ever had a time in your life that you just needed to get away? <br />
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We did too. <br />
<br />
For months we waited, dreamed and schemed about our friend's wedding in eastern Idaho. Did I mention squirreled money away and didn't buy take out pizza?<br />
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We didn't (okay so not as often).<br />
<br />
This vacation was amazing. Just Ron and I roaming the west, exploring cool shops, small museums and great towns. This is a picture of Ron in Yellowstone. We were so excited to see some elk or something wild. I'm sorry to say the only wild thing we saw was a picture of an elk on a sign saying caution. It should have said, "but if you are driving behind the Fairchilds don't worry...they must have wildlife repellent. "<br />
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Still can't believe we saw NOTHING. <br />
<br />
The wedding was awesome. It was up on the grooms summer ranch at about 7,000 feet on Phelps mountain on about 1,000 acres. Never before did I want endless cornfields and flat ground like I did as we wound our way up that mountain on a dirt logging road with no guard rails. I "scaredy texted" that's what I called writing 30 texts in about an hour when my phone didnt' even get signal. Ron would get to a bad spot and he'd say, "you just k-e-e-p texting." Or, "don't look this is BAD!"<br />
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The funnest town was by far Cody WY. We stayed at the Chamberlinn. I had to keep a secret from Ron...it was haunted. I've mentioned the haunted hotel route before and it was a no go. This time as I read the reviews on other hotels in town on Trip Advisor.com, I knew this was the only option. <br />
<br />
We woke up in that beautiful place the next day and he said that he hadn't had such a good night sleep in a long time. I on the other hand, barely slept a wink, worried the ghost, "Nancy" the chambermaid was standing over me. I can't remember saying so many prayers in my life...with my eyes shut. But over all that was the most beautiful, greatest place...where else would I get chocolates on my bed? Okay, at home I guess, but that's because a bunch of kids have just snuck chocolate chips and they hid under my blankets to eat them while leaving brown smears on the sheets (from the chocolate of course) Hee hee!<br />
<br />
We also discussed how Butte Montana needed a guy like Joe Kolbach to fix it up. There could be so much done to that historical city. <br />
<br />
But after a few days, we started to miss the kids and the thought of all the work that needed to be done at home ate at us like my kids with a new bag of Nestle Tollhouse. <br />
<br />
So we ended up cutting it short. The other night, Ron asked me "where we at this time last week?"<br />
Well, I said as I put my arm around him..."we were coming down Phelps mountain. I didn't see much because I was in the fetal position hiding under my sweatshirt."<br />
"Oh yeah, that's right", he said with a chuckle.<br />
<br />
Good times....good times.<br />
<br />
I'm back, <br />
Fairchild farmgirl<br />
<br />
In retrospect...wouldn't it be nice to have a maid? Ghost or not. I say if she can at least pick up the place, she can stay. <br />
<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-81559592759453104042013-06-23T13:33:00.001-05:002013-06-23T13:33:26.896-05:00Momma Din't Raise No Fool...Or Maybe She Did, Just This OnceSo I'm not proud of this.<br />
<br />
My fingers got caught in the garage door to the shop. <br />
<br />
It hurts. Bad. <br />
<br />
You know what? It was really stupid. I mean, a person knows that crease is going to close tight, with or without your fingers in it. Case in point...my mom did raise a fool. <br />
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Now onto the other side of the spectrum...<strong><em>I </em></strong>am not raising fools. I'm raising hard workers. I promise not to brag too much...<br />
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But maybe if my kids read this, I may get an extra sink of dishes done or breakfast in bed. <br /><br />A gal can try right? <br />
<br />
Cody, our oldest has a 40 hour a week job working construction. "Mom, do you know that I put $35 of gas into my car and <strong>it didn't even fill it?" </strong><em>"Yes son, I put $95 into my truck and its only at 3/4 of a tank." </em><br />
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I wonder if he caught my sarcasm?<br />
<br />
Ashlyn is picking rock and babysitting working towards a new phone and fun stuff at the Crystal Springs Rodeo. I told her I got a phone when I was 30. She was unimpressed.<br />
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Kara is picking rock and working for me on the produce section of the farm. She's not only working to buy stuff at the rodeo, but she's doing all the record keeping here to use as part of a FFA project. As a mom I'm super happy. <br />
<br />
Grace and Rachel even got in on a little rock picking. When asked what Rachel thought she should make for three hours of picking, she thought her price would be about $100. Grace said her other money making project for the summer was going to create artwork for the Gary art show during the 4th of July Festivities. She was going to call it refrigerator art. LOL!<br />
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So what did I do for summertime work when I was their age? Picked worms for a local bait shop. $9 per thousand. My sisters and I would make enough money each summer for buying school clothes in the fall. When I told my kids that I did that and asked if they ever would I got this reply:<br />
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"Gross mom," accompanied by a look like I was half crazy. I think they'll just stick to picking rock for area farmers.<br />
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Have a great month of July! Enjoy family, friends, and the town of Gary and surrounding areas. There's so much fun to be had!<br />
<br />
Fairchild Farmgirl<br />
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<em></em><br />
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Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-1475814305539646572013-05-22T19:49:00.000-05:002013-05-22T19:49:05.415-05:00The New Kid On The Block<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Well, it happened. Cocoa was getting to be the straw that broke the camels back. She wouldn't let Grace lead her around, would put her ears back and chased her out of her pen and would try to buck her off. <br />
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As a parent, I knew that there are way too many kid friendly horses that need a home and it was time to put wheels under Cocoa. <br />
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At first I thought I'd miss her, you know, how she would wheel her butt around to kick when a person went in her pen...<br />
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But alas...we are back in love.<br />
<br />
Welcome home Mitch. <br />
<br />
Even though you did get out of your pen this morning and we found you about 3 miles west of our place. I sat on the phone waking up neighbors to see if they you were at their places. We tracked your butt through soaking wet plowen, I rode the four wheeler with Grace in the rain looking for you til there was so much mud in our eyes we couldn't stand it anymore....<br />
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Did I mention it was 40 degrees and raining?<br />
<br />
Then I walked you home over a mile with a hole in my boot (my bad I never remember to throw those away) again, in the rain, of course, uphill the whole way (not really), cold but sweaty (again, my bad, I'm out of shape).<br />
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After that, I still love you because when we FINALLY found you, you were spooked, but went right up to Grace like she was your very best friend. <br />
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YOU ARE SO LUCKY!<br />
Fairchild Farmgirl<br />
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PS I'm out of coffee. <br />
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(Of course).Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-71342447415688956752013-02-27T11:04:00.000-06:002013-02-27T11:04:27.022-06:00When Your Cow Discovers Social Media<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
It's some body's birthday month here at the farm. <br />
<br />
One of the kids?<br />
<br />
<em>Well not exactly...</em><br />
<em></em><br />
Yes, it's Sweetie's birthday. In case you're new to this, my heifer is turning three years old as of mid March and she thinks she's one of the family. Or may be we think she is and she could care less. Not sure. She does like the attention however. <br />
<em></em><br />
Anyway, back to the subject at hand. My heifer....Facebook...it was a matter of time folks. It started when I would put photo's up on my page about that goofy bovine of mine; how she would dig trash out of the dumspter, put a hole through my screen door, sneak in the shop and had diarrhea all over the floor (wait a minute, she's starting to turn into a liability instead of an asset). <br />
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Well, people got a kick out of her and her shenanigans. Then someone suggested that she get her own page on Facebook, especially after the pumpkin patch this year when we thought she was at her peak of stardom. I thought, 'hey, she's old enough for her own page, as long as she doesn't put up anything embarrassing of her herself.'<br />
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<em>I kid...she hasn't mastered the computer yet since her hooves are too big for typing, LOL. Again, kidding. </em><br />
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In less than a month that cow has buddies from all over the world. Seriously. She's almost up to 200. She has contests about Ag trivia and is has prize giveaways (which are non other than 8x10 glossy photos of herself.<br />
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So do I regret my decision? <br />
<br />
Only if she gets more friends than I have. <br />
<br />
Sincerely, <br />
Fairchild Farmgirl.<br />
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PS Her "handle" on Facebook is Sweetie Moo Fairchild.Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-90971064901656500822013-01-26T18:16:00.002-06:002013-01-26T18:16:34.253-06:00"MOM! Don't Clean My Room!" and More From A Disgruntled Housewife <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
"Guess what?" I ask my daughter as we pulled out of our meeting spot on a Friday night not too long ago.<br />
<br />
"What?" she said with a smile that I knew was not going to last too long. <br />
<br />
"We're going to clean your room," I say almost getting a kick out of what her response would be. <br /><br />"Ugh! I hate it when you help!" She said as she slunked down into the seat of the gray ghost. (Thats what I call a beat up Yukon that is apparently invisible to animals.)<br />
<br />
You know, I don't mind cleaning, washing, feeding and all else that I do, but sometimes it gets to be a little much.<br />
<br />
For example, I stepped outside the other day, and right on my front porch was a huge pile a la Sweetie. The irony in it? Some how, there was a huge papertowel crumpled up laying right in the middle of it. <br />
<br />
<strong><em>HUH?</em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
I know, "only at our place" is the only excuse I can give at this point. The weird thing (yes, even more weird than a heifer lounging on a front porch) No one else had been out that day because it was so cold, did Fluffy try to help her? Like, "Suzanne's going to be mad enough that you put a huge pile of poo on the steps, maybe if I clean you up she won't be as mad."<br />
<br />
Not really, now I have a frozen terd pile with a huge paper towel frozen in it. <br />
<br />
On.my.front.porch.where.everyone.has.to.walk.around.when.they.come.over.<br />
<br />
<strong><em>What's the point of this story?</em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
That I could hire out my heifer for Charmin commercials? No. Well maybe, but I digress. <br />
<br />
I think the fact of the matter is, is that even I pulled out NINE bags of trash out of my daughter's bedroom, I pick up enough food off of my floor daily to make me wonder why we don't have a huge mouse problem (Big D says it's because "A mouse would walk in here and run out again..it'd think it was one big trap.).<br />
<br />
<strong>The fact of the matter is</strong>, I do love my life. My kids messy as they are, are pretty cool. Them, along with my husband as caring as he is and as goofy as my cow is....<br />
<br />
means I should be getting me one heck of a Valentines Day Gift! <br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
Fairchild "Wading through the piles" Farmgirl<br />
Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-73546626151305172792012-12-26T15:23:00.001-06:002012-12-26T15:23:10.821-06:00In With the New and Out With the OldHappy January!<br />
<br />
It's a new year people, with bright ideas and sturdy goals for the upcoming 365 days. <br />
I definately have more fun planning the goal list than I do working on the goals I'm afraid.<br />
<br />
How about you? What are your goals? Is it to lose the dreaded weight we put on over the holidays? Is it to be more kind to people? Is it to be more money savvy? <br />
<br />
Think hard on it, what would you like to do? <br />
<br />
This article is going to be a short one. That's only because I'm going to get busy working on my goal list. <br />
<br />
Right now.<br />
<br />
Have a blessed New Year. Be good to people. Be charitable. Be honest in your business dealings.<br />
<br />
Just be.<br />
Fairchild Farmgirl<br />
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Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-59775595240801668972012-11-26T11:11:00.000-06:002012-11-26T11:21:59.691-06:00Christmas...Conquering the Fiscal CliffWho would'a thunk that having our ninth kid would've made my world crazy? I really apologize for not blogging lately. It's been hectic to say the least.<br />
<br />
So as we look at the calender and the sights around town, we see that Christmas is fast approaching. Did you break the bank on Black Friday, Cyber Monday or like our priest called Thanksgiving Day or "Blood Thirsty Thursday"? <br />
<br />
<strong>Not me...crowds aren't my thing.</strong><br />
<br />
I would love however, to talk about Small Business Saturday. I know, I know, it's come and gone, but we can treat the whole month this way by spending our money locally. <br />
<br />
For the hard to buy for, pick up a gift card from Steele's Service or one of the many gas stations in Canby. Each year when Gate City Store gets their chocolate covered peanuts in, I'm right there. They make a great gift...after all, who doesn't like them? Not only that, but they really have some good deals here and there. Back before we raised our own pigs, we used to buy all our bacon from Rob's locker. He has <strong>the</strong> best bacon. <br />
<br />
Then there's Canby. Many business' come to mind. Paper Moon (the best wrapping paper), Mobergs Meats (best brats!) Rhonda's Originals, Cenex (who wouldn't love a gift card for gas?) etc. The most fun that I have with the kids each year, is when I take them Christmas shopping at Canby Drug. Before we go, I sit each of them down and we talk about a budget and what each child would like to get each of their siblings. <br />
<br />
<em>They have a budget:</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">$1.50 per person.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;"></span></strong><br />
That's right. The older kids have to PUT IN $1.50 to match my $1.50 for each sibling. It seems when they have to shell out a little green, more thought and caring go into it. <br />
<br />
So as I sat down with Rachel, we talked about Cody. <br />
<br />
"I bet Cody would love gum or a new mechanical pencil" I said to her as she wrote a future purchase very carefully for each child.<br />
"<strong><em>Or</em></strong> I could buy him a new laptop" She said matter-a-factly and not looking up from her paper.<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Something tells me she's sailing down the fiscal cliff like a bat outta Haiti!</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Sincerely,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">"Furiously laying down the law for when Levi suggests getting Dad a new tractor" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Fairchild Farmgirl.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"></span><br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-89097620763338968012012-09-23T21:58:00.002-05:002014-04-22T21:39:48.278-05:00To My Fellow Halloweenies.Some of you might expect me to talk all about our new baby that we had September 8th and not stop this whole article...<br />
<br />
I'll refrain.<br />
<br />
Even though he is so cute, chubby, perfect, and I just want to kiss the crap out of him non-stop, I have even bigger fish to fry: <br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: x-large;"><em>Halloween.</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I could start out with a story, true even...that happened 6 years ago on Halloween night: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">My blond haired, blue eyed, heifer riding Rachel was born!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">But I digress...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"><em>Back to this very special month of October:</em> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Look around you...the crops are in, the beetles are out, the dogs growing her winter fur, the ram is doing what he's supposed to be doing, the culls in the feedlot are doing well, even dropping calves every so often. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The air is also crisp and the frost is definitely on the pumpkin. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;">So, do you know what time it is?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Time to open the farm up to school kids, families and parties. It's the Fairchild Pumpkin Patch time! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Time to introduce kids to Sweetie the heifer, let the kids feel a sheep and watch a piglet poop all over my sweatshirt when I pick one up so they can feel it's bristly hair. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Tis the season to stay up on Friday and Saturday night way past midnight making apple pies and filling orders for caramel apples.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Waiting for the sounds of kids giggling as they run through a 200 round bale maze or laugh as they take a ride on a barrel train. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Wondering what the classes that come out are going to think about all the smells and sounds that come with riding through our feedlot, picking out their favorite cow and touching and smelling the feed that the cows eat. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Listening to moms and dads chuckle at some of the funny haunts that we have made on the walking trail...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Yep, bring on October...Fairchild Farms is ready for it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Sincerely,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">The Soon To Be Caffienated Farmgirl</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">PS...Here's baby Tedd looking very suprised,, LOL! He's named after Ron's wonderful uncle Ted. He's missed so much but seeing baby Tedd's face makes us feel like Uncle Ted is right here with us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-82495252115354774212012-08-29T14:57:00.002-05:002014-04-22T21:40:09.841-05:00Hillbilly Hog Fishing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
As I'm sitting here waiting <em>not so patiently</em> to have this baby, I thought to get my mind of fthis wrenching backache, I'd write a blog post. After all, last night came the best fodder for a story yet. <br />
<br />
<strong><em>Hillbilly Hog Fishing.</em></strong><br />
<strong><em></em></strong><br />
I know, <em>what??? </em><br />
<em></em><br />
Well in the picture above, can you see two market weight hogs? One's blackened by mud, and ones got a sunburn. =)<br />
<br />
Yesterday morning was my doctor appointment and our dear friend and neighbor Joyce came to watch the kids so we could go there by ourselves and not be bombarded with questions, like, <em>"why do you have to take your pants off mom?" </em><br />
<em></em><br />
It was nice, I actually got the nap in the truck. It was heavenly. We got home and Joyce told us that the pigs got out and her husband Randy came to put them back, with a little bit of our other neighbors "help by phone" to tell him where they go. What would we do without great people in our lives?<br />
<br />
<strong>I won't even tell you how Joyce cleaned our house.</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
If I did, you'd probably kidnap her. She totally didn't have to, but probably felt sorry for me. =)<br />
<br />
<br />
<strong>It was grody.</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
I digress...now to the story at hand.<br />
<br />
So when she left, Ron went out and counted the pigs. The two big ones were gone. They have a date with Moberg Meats in town on the 17th. Not good. <br />
<br />
We went out looking for them and I actually spotted them in the lower part of the feedlot. "Let's wait til the kids get home," Ron said as we sized up the situation. "I think they're fine." He said. <br />
<br />
"I don't think so," I said, they look dead. "They're okay", he said.<br />
<br />
After supper, Cody went out there and came back up. "Mom! I hear from the yard. Those pigs are stuck in the clay and cow poop. I don't know how they're gonna get out." <br />
<br />
<strong>What? How does a pig become stuck? Aren't their bodies designed for mud? LOL!</strong><br />
<strong></strong><br />
Well after supper we all head down to the feedlot. Because you know, it's not everyday that you get to see two supposed stuck hogs in your feedlot. It was better than Heehaw with popcorn. <br />
<br />
Big D asked if there was a chain in the box of the four wheeler and Kara who was at this point on the sidelines, took it out to him. <br />
<br />
Then.got.chased.out.by.a.Charolais. Not to laugh at our kids, but dang...it was so funny we all laughed. First mistake, as soon as it started bucking at her a little, she took off running. Second mistake...she ran right into the corner of the fence. He was hauling butt right after her. I've NEVER seen anyone climb a fence that fast. She didn't stop until she was up about 7 feet. "Can he still get me?" <br />
<br />
"I don't think he's a good climber." I said between giggles. "IF he was going to hurt you for real, he would've smoked ya before you even got to the second sucker rod on the fence. He was just playing around." <br />
<br />
<strong><em>Now she got to see what we get to deal with every day.</em></strong><br />
<br />
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That's Big D taking a breather from trying to push the pig out. He's gathered quite the crowd. Sorry for the bad pic, you'll have to just imagine this little scenario in your mind. There's Cody with the chain that they wrapped around it's belly and both pulled. <br />
<br />
Well, they eventually got it pulled out, and we got them both out of the feedlot. What an ordeal. Then it was trying to get them back up to the hog pen. So after we got boots scraped and sprayed off, had a kid in the shower, a kid in the kitchen sink and another kid in the bathroom sink (it was getting late, come on work with me here!) <br />
<br />
I got yet another uncomfortable question after I was tucking in and kissing good nights...<br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-size: large;">"<em>Mom, can you still smell feedlot on me?"</em></span></strong><br />
<br />
Sincerely, <br />
<br />
Fairchild "I'm going to try to invent something that will get the crap smell off of my kids so they can go to school the next day". Farmgirl<br />
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<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-15352614409771982682012-08-13T11:01:00.000-05:002014-04-22T21:40:26.368-05:00Here She Is To Save The Day!!!!!!!!!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Now read the title of this blog over again in a sing song fashion...I kid! Only if the mood strikes you. <br />
<br />
By the way, I figured I needed to blog since God gave us a wonderful rain this past weekend. I've said before that I'm as spotty as a rain shower, well, here I am.<br />
<br />
Back to the story:<br />
<br />
Now, for some of you this story is a repeat. If you've seen Grace (pictured above) in the gas station, the grocery store, the post office or if you've stopped out at the farm to buy a tomato, you've heard it already. It's a good one, and she claims she's a cow hero, so here it is, one more time...<br />
<br />
Our daughter Kara and I were up testing grapes for the buyer as well as doing some picking from what the cow birds had missed (last year we were told that birds were color blind and not to worry about our white grapes. Apparently they got contacts or had a optometrist visit, because they cleaned out 70% the whites in three days.) Argh!<br />
<br />
Grace and her little sister were riding their bikes around the cattle pens and raced up to where we were at. <br />
<br />
"MOM! There's a cow in the west pen having a baby!" <br />
<br />
<strong><em>What</em></strong>? I thought to myself? <em>That pen is all steers.</em> We have taught the kids to come tell us when there is something out of the ordinary so I thought I better check on it. <br />
<br />
We all load up in the big wheeler and head down to see a steer on it's side, severely bloated, and...<br />
<br />
Big D.not.around. <br />
<br />
<strong>Dang it!</strong> BTW, Big D could be here 6 months straight and things would go so smoothly, the minute he leaves, I seriously think the critters plot against me. That day he was putting in a kitchen in town.<br />
<br />
I crawled over the gate as fast as a 8 month pregnant 38 year old could go and went to size up the situation. <br />
<br />
NOT GOOD.<br />
<br />
By this time, he had banged his head against the ground so many times that his eye had swelled shut. I tried to get him up myself and that wasn't working. I called Ron and told him, then found one of my wonderful neighbors on his tractor and convinced him that he needed to come with me. <em>After all, I only needed him for "10 minutes"</em> ...LOL!<br />
<br />
After trying to shove a hose down his throat unsuccessfully to try and get the gas out, I called the vet and thought maybe we could stick him (with a knife) as long as we knew the exact area to do it in. <em>You have to be pretty precise.</em> <br />
<br />
Just then, Ron pulled up, got the bobcat and helped the steer to his feet with the bucket. You could tell that the bovine felt better already just by being on his feet. Then the vet showed up and used the coolest tool ever. <br />
<br />
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See that red circle on it's back? That is to keep it from bloating. The vet uses that to keep the bloated stomach open then as the stomach heals, the cork screw works itself out. Isn't veterinary medicine fascinating? Well, it is to me. Later that evening Big D and I went to a baseball fundraiser where we sat with a married couple who live down the road from us. He showed me how to do it with an IV needle if I'm ever in that situation again and alone. Very cool. <br />
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So, if you see Grace out and about ask her about her heroism...she'll look at you with those serious blue eyes of hers and tell you, "Yep, I saved it's life. You know, it's always important to look through the cows and see if you see anything strange. If you do, you gotta tell your mom or dad."<br />
<br />
Sincerely,<br />
I think my kids rock, Fairchild Farmgirl.<br />
<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-10230125685419207122012-07-17T21:03:00.001-05:002014-04-22T21:40:39.383-05:00When The Jig Is Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Remember when you were a kid and if you lived on a farm like these three (mine) you had imaginations and you could make a great toy out of just about anything? <br />
<br />
Well sometimes you get in trouble with that attitude. <br />
<br />
Each night I bathe these three and there is actual grit/sand/corn screenings/mud or whatever else you can imagine in the bottom of the tub.<br />
<br />
In this particular picture they snuck down in the bunk and got into corn screenings. At first I thought this was some pig feed, but Ron filled the big feeder so...<br />
<br />
<strong>this.kind.of.thing.wouldn't.happen.</strong><br />
<br />
As you can see, they're all white, Maggie on the left is laughing because that's what she does when she gets in trouble (yikes), Levi is crying because he's full of drama (yikes again), and Jessica well, she was just along for the heck of it (see Farmgirl's hair turn gray).<br />
<br />
My favorite dirty memory as a kid? Having to screen the cat poop out of our gravel pile with old window screens each morning before my brother and I could play in it. <br />
<br />
Looking back at the house that I grew up in with five siblings, looked like ones that I paint.<br />
<br />
<strong><em>Abandoned and scary looking.</em></strong><br />
<br />
I also think back at how my parents didn't have running water and when we had to take a bath it sure the heck wasn't every night and water had to be hauled in and boiled (and I recall being this dirty a lot!). <br />
<br />
I know...I AM only 38. Those were some hard times back in the 80's when they farmed. My but my grandparents lived in Minneapolis and were very wealthy, so going there was such a treat! I remember taking long baths every night and because of this, I still love the smell of yellow Dial soap.<br />
<br />
<em>Okay, I went down memory lane and missed the road sign that said "you can stop now".</em><br />
<br />
Back to these three. They were at it again tonight, except they were playing "garden" in the huge clay pile and walking through duck poop with bare feet.<br />
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"<strong>Mom! Get your kids in the tub!"</strong> As Ron hauls them in one by one without letting them touch the floor and straight to the waiting bath. <br />
<br />
Then as I took Jessica's diaper off it was full...<br />
<br />
<strong><em>of clay.</em> </strong><br />
<br />
Come on, she's a farm kid!<br />
<br />
Fairchild Farmgirl<br />
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<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-45528097123706838662012-06-23T16:17:00.003-05:002012-06-23T16:17:31.305-05:00Saturday Shorty...When You're Upside Down<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WcwBAQvloxCfQCEz5hOWB5Jx_de_6Q08wOMSvRkP1-I-HZ8e8ZAN3aEwDV934-3U3DtwsFMgjJ3K67XOZNZq9tR3hSoQC7jl1LWtr02e2xIo_dA-rDyq0wY0WLplrVbBxADReqxyqFE/s1600/133_0822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9WcwBAQvloxCfQCEz5hOWB5Jx_de_6Q08wOMSvRkP1-I-HZ8e8ZAN3aEwDV934-3U3DtwsFMgjJ3K67XOZNZq9tR3hSoQC7jl1LWtr02e2xIo_dA-rDyq0wY0WLplrVbBxADReqxyqFE/s320/133_0822.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Just remember, somebody out there will find you and help you out (or right side up).<br />
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Good evening folks...enjoy this beautiful weather, our families, freedoms, this country and anything else that is appreciated. <br />
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Your busy, (but hopefully not too busy for my readers very soon....I'm truly sorry about that friends.)<br />
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Fairchild Farmgirl.Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-20344338043143157862012-06-02T12:02:00.002-05:002012-06-02T12:02:57.338-05:00Random Acts Of Farm Babies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAzCWEyTfCWGyfhuXcV5-459aUrGR_v3KXr-fh8Hx00AQI_XkkgLI2XDftz0QzHdCx6nmxGxWLZKi8zw3GtuT-EBchGcsFVoYV-AAqagAFESsQZjvJ-Ifp7RRtKQZgoNzNAx5UogUxGU/s1600/IMG_0571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcAzCWEyTfCWGyfhuXcV5-459aUrGR_v3KXr-fh8Hx00AQI_XkkgLI2XDftz0QzHdCx6nmxGxWLZKi8zw3GtuT-EBchGcsFVoYV-AAqagAFESsQZjvJ-Ifp7RRtKQZgoNzNAx5UogUxGU/s320/IMG_0571.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Baby chick.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnokEAdsMLXaRas5SMMaObqff4BM6BTz9rqZRyKDgGK_ha8FuT5E6Oqnzs0xzTsp5QXBJZfOZMMs6CRTz5gFMpBOy9kubXmI8MYegJrq6nnLMbZYLVd2QG2314OXgS6w6JVzoTr91xxow/s1600/IMG_0606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnokEAdsMLXaRas5SMMaObqff4BM6BTz9rqZRyKDgGK_ha8FuT5E6Oqnzs0xzTsp5QXBJZfOZMMs6CRTz5gFMpBOy9kubXmI8MYegJrq6nnLMbZYLVd2QG2314OXgS6w6JVzoTr91xxow/s320/IMG_0606.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Not all babies here are animals...here's a Ginger Gold Apple.<br />
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Baby ducklings.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghgmwTkEWqnoiNhyphenhyphenw_hduShlDdUORvRB7jrqwVnIVmZ67gubV1QVl6kRa_aAms6mJbl_gTOlxDPam5-wGzmiTXrZnwrumKLASeC_mMEA656VqdLth9VbGBUDxHoqKzUrVXnYDYVgSoBj4/s1600/IMG_0633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghgmwTkEWqnoiNhyphenhyphenw_hduShlDdUORvRB7jrqwVnIVmZ67gubV1QVl6kRa_aAms6mJbl_gTOlxDPam5-wGzmiTXrZnwrumKLASeC_mMEA656VqdLth9VbGBUDxHoqKzUrVXnYDYVgSoBj4/s320/IMG_0633.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Baby kitties. Two lived three died. First time momma.<br />
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This is Oreo/Stormy/Cereal. This was Big D's calf, but he's graciously selling it to pay for Grace's horse to be trained. <br />
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These are black raspberries, not quite yet ripe.<br />
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This is our hoop barn with out the plastic up. It's all planted.<br />
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Baby grape clusters.<br />
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<br />To round out our baby chapter, here's some baby pigs on the run. Have a great day!Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-46996167549855230042012-05-25T09:43:00.001-05:002014-04-22T21:41:40.515-05:00The Stakeout<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<em>Sweetie the heifer who decided one day to stick her head in the front door to see what was up. </em><em>Right through the screen.</em></div>
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This year I thought I'd be battling bugs and weeds in my fruit crops. <br />
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Not so.<br />
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I've got a critter battle going on, and that's the worst kind. On our farm, I'm in charge of all the fruit and vegetables. This year I'm hoping that you will see a self serve stand or two called "Fairchild Farmgirl Produce" around our neck of the woods. <br />
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That is, if I can keep these animals out of everything. <br />
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Let me just say that when I first saw my strawberry bed, I was delighted. Tons of blossoms on all my plants. <em>'This is my year!,'</em> I thought foolishly. Then I left them alone. A watched pot never boils right? I went back a week later only to see strawberry plants eaten.<br />
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WHAT? Then I saw her the next day. Sweetie. Eating my strawberry patch to her hearts delight.<br />
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Out in the apples it was the same story. All my Honey crisp blossoms eaten along with inches of leafed out branch. "Big D! There's something eating my apple blossoms! You need to find it and kill it." I snapped at the poor man who had too much to do already.<br />
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"I know what it is." He told me with a laugh. "It's big and black and weighs close to 900 pounds. Find a way to keep her in and you'll be fine."<br />
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<em>Dang Sweetie!</em><br />
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So finally we put up a fence that could keep her in. Five jewels of snap that she doesn't even look at anymore. <br />
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Problem solved? <br />
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Nope. <br />
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Out in the strawberries, I notice that the plants are growing again, but the blossoms aren't there. Then I spot her...a hen. Eating blossoms. <br />
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<em>Dang chicken!</em><br />
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I called up Don Denekamp and told him I had a gift for him, a hen that eats strawberries. He took her and put her in his chicken coop.<br />
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Problem solved? Nope. <br />
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The vicious circle keeps a spinin'.<br />
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<strong>"Mom! Your sheep are out in the apple trees and they're eating them</strong><em><strong>!"</strong> Why aren't they just "my sheep" when the lamb check comes?</em><br />
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"<strong>Mom!</strong> Your sheep are out in the grapes again! They're not even touching the grass, just eating leaves and clusters<em>!" When did they grow? They shouldn't even be able to reach the clusters</em>.<br />
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That's right, we haven't tightened sagging wires yet. <br />
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Last night D and I drove around the place and found that the sheep were out once again. But guess what? We found out where they were getting out! Found some tell tale signs of wool sticking to the fence. We're a modern day Sherlock Holmes detective team! <br />
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Later on, I was feeling pretty good about the whole deal and doing dishes, when Big D comes in and shouts...<br />
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"Your stupid dog is eating chicken eggs again and got'em all over her face!"<em> </em><br />
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<em><strong>My stupid dog?</strong> </em><br />
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<em>Happy Trails,</em><br />
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<em>"Defender of Food", Fairchild Farmgirl</em><br />
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<em>PS I was out checking strawberries just now and <strong>my</strong> stupid dog was eating them too. I think it's going to be harder giving away a smelly New Foundland, so I better find a way to deal with her, right? </em><br />
<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-29237570292132384632012-05-08T10:44:00.000-05:002012-05-08T10:44:04.623-05:00Hello World!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHQbFuau9X9Gn08YF1l1kW7DVN4nnapeOR9f3BA3KOBmKxGSpEF3VmDZnZ1TTzo6y4p5qjHQPItAl6fz8WG17MuyKQd3bPvbHcac6wPQGI6spYntTDYwvfjNA0M4cCGwAIOSDgscKvuc/s1600/161_0408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHQbFuau9X9Gn08YF1l1kW7DVN4nnapeOR9f3BA3KOBmKxGSpEF3VmDZnZ1TTzo6y4p5qjHQPItAl6fz8WG17MuyKQd3bPvbHcac6wPQGI6spYntTDYwvfjNA0M4cCGwAIOSDgscKvuc/s320/161_0408.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here's Mamma Puff's little brood as they explore...the barn yard by the hog feed bulk tank. Not exactly <em>the world</em> but imagine how big it is to them?<br />
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Old Mamma had to make a hard decision however. Probably not hard for her at all. She's an animal after all. She took her six and decided that the rest of the nest wasn't worth setting on. So she up and left it...with all those eggs. We cracked two open, one wasn't fertile but rotten and the foam shot across the kitchen landing on the pizza that I hadn't put away yet from dinner. <br />
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<strong>Sorry Cody, no leftovers for breakfast.</strong><br />
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After a few sprays of Lysol and opening up all the windows, we were back in business. We cracked another. There was a baby chick inside, but dead. For the eggs to be still "with live chick" they need to be at a constant temp and if that temp gets cold for more than 4 hours, they are dead. That's what happened we think. <br />
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But, she also had to get these 6 to feed and water within 48 hours so they would live. I wish we'd have come along sooner, but she had these hidden in the barn. <br />
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So, now you know the story...the one thing that we now worry about is...<br />
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Cats.<br />
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Signing off,<br />
Fairchild Farmgirl<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-64987619017156844982012-05-07T16:18:00.002-05:002014-04-22T21:46:24.633-05:00When The Rubber Hits The Road...Or So To Speak<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Good afternoon kids! I know I've been a sorry blogger, but when the first signs of spring hits until the first frost come November, I'm like a spotty shower in July...hardly ever around. <br />
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Okay weird analogy but I'm doing my best.<br />
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So I told my Facebook friends that I was going to blog about this the other day, and the other day turned into two weeks ago, but I found a pocket of time while I wait for the hay grinder to leave while the cattle bus waits for us to get him loaded. Here goes:<br />
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<strong>When a banding goes wrong.</strong><br />
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Big D called me down to the lots (about two weeks ago) and asked me if I'd ever seen something. Funny, when he asked me to come down there and look at something, I was under the assumption that he made me something and it was in the cattle shed. <br />
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What kind of crap is this pregnancy doing to me?<br />
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Oh, he had a gift alright....<br />
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Nope I can safely say I had never seen t<strong><em>hat</em></strong> before. Particularly not after a ham dinner on a Sunday night. <br />
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That kids, is when a bull is banded but only the sack falls off and not the cords. There is an extreme amount of blood that came out of this poor fella before the vet came. I worried...Big D worried. This was in a group that we had picked up from the sale barn, so we couldn't even give the vet crap for not banding it right. <br />
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Here the vet is sewing him back up.<br />
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Here's his needle. It's curved and kinda neat.<br />
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The needle below is what Jeff used. Any guesses to what that large needle is for? Now ladies, cross your legs..that is to sew up a uterine prolapse. Can we all say, "Yooooowwwwwwwwwwwwiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee!"? <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">Note to self, when in labor, push hard, but not <em>tooo</em> hard.</span></strong> <br />
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Sincerely,<br />
<br />
Fairchilf Farmgirl<br />
<br />
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<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-627718003246831622012-05-03T18:26:00.002-05:002014-04-22T21:45:55.477-05:00Just Ducky<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQviorfFCyLbixHRbOuPS8GwBcu7vY3Zf_VKgMVilQopmwk8E5968bEMBB3a-qkb2fak7QX64W1A8uhNeQrCjQUqmDnnulCo0LqEC4PVT0ONU7yrxS6fguAbD8-o01VSNlo1N_fDDCHLo/s1600/162_0398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQviorfFCyLbixHRbOuPS8GwBcu7vY3Zf_VKgMVilQopmwk8E5968bEMBB3a-qkb2fak7QX64W1A8uhNeQrCjQUqmDnnulCo0LqEC4PVT0ONU7yrxS6fguAbD8-o01VSNlo1N_fDDCHLo/s320/162_0398.JPG" height="238" width="320" /></a></div>
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Hey peeps, these are the chicks...er, I mean ducks...I mean soon to be ducklings.<br />
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Last night we washed another 26 eggs to put int he incubator. Sometimes I wish I had more hens to lay more eggs, then as I wash them at about 9:30 pm once a week, I realize, "hey 3 is plenty."<br />
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This is the pile drying while we are washing the incubator. It's nearing 10 PM and I'm thanking the good Lord above that I only have 3 laying ducks. <br />
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Here Big D is writing the dates on one side (note to self, always write the date on eggs...you don't want one that's been in there for too long. Whewww the stink!)<br />
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That makes 52 eggs (about) to hatch. The dirty ones are just from the last 5 that hatched out and walked all over them. <br />
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Signing off,<br />
<br />
Fairchild "Crazy Egg" FarmgirlFairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-19402127469366488382012-04-28T16:16:00.000-05:002012-04-28T16:18:24.496-05:00Momma Puff<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is whom I call, Momma Puff. Momma Puff is one of our hens who decided to start nesting one day behind a piece of plywood. <br />
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Normally a hen wouldn't puff and fluff her feathers but she's got a lot of eggs to cover....<br />
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See how some of the eggs are green and brown? That's because Momma Puff takes a break, gets something to eat, hangs out at the water for a little bit with her hen friends while another hen who doesn't want to be disturbed by taking care of eggs and nesting, quickly jumps on her pile, lays one and gets off before Momma Puff comes back. <br />
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I think MP must come back, look at all 30+ eggs, sighs maybe says "darn it", gets back on pushing the eggs under her and puffing herself up to cover everything.<br />
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So when you think you've got too much going on and you feel trapped and overloaded,<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Think of Momma Puff, sigh, say darn it and plow through it. <br /><br /><strong><em>If Momma Puff can do it, so can you.</em></strong></span><br />
<br />
<em>Sincerely,</em><br />
<em>Fairchild Farmgirl</em><br />
<br />Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-55888619554493570742012-04-24T19:43:00.000-05:002012-04-24T19:45:22.663-05:00Caught In A Love Triangle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK42a2-7LuHBbN1wmwzB1XqSGu6DMK009LSqJ41APw07oineImoxmTPUBgK9KwJ-8LtGiSdW58ArbytD6ROnELa5i135916QeJuMyi4EBsyCLa85-pMHYfSPGEA0l_fQ5hMw7sSsh0pi0/s1600/Raccoon-285.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK42a2-7LuHBbN1wmwzB1XqSGu6DMK009LSqJ41APw07oineImoxmTPUBgK9KwJ-8LtGiSdW58ArbytD6ROnELa5i135916QeJuMyi4EBsyCLa85-pMHYfSPGEA0l_fQ5hMw7sSsh0pi0/s1600/Raccoon-285.jpg" /></a></div>
<em>courtesy of </em><a href="http://www.nps.gov/guis/naturescience/those-roguish-raccoons.htm">http://www.nps.gov/guis/naturescience/those-roguish-raccoons.htm</a><br />
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Hey everybody.<br />
<br />
I'm tired.<br />
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Do you know why I'm tired? Not because of pregnancy, cattle, pigs, sheep, kids, impending garden/vineyard/orchard issues, but...<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">Because I (we) are caught in a love triangle.</span></strong><br />
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I'm sure you guys are like "<em>what? Last we knew you were happily married. What's going on pray tell?"</em><br />
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I guess it's better to say that we are party to <em><strong>watching</strong></em> a love triangle. <em>Well</em>, since the flashlight battery was almost dead, I suppose it's more like we were party <strong><em>to listening </em></strong>to a love triangle, if you have to get technical about it. <br />
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I know, I know, how come we were listening in on it? Are we disgusting people that are into that kind of thing? <br />
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No certainly not. Let me tell you about this "middle of the night escapade". <br />
<br />
<strong>It all started this way:</strong><br />
<br />
Three AM. Maggie came into our room crying about falling off the couch while sleeping. For.the.second.time. So I put her in bed with Big D and I went to try to get some shut eye on the couch. <br />
<br />
It's safe to say that last night, our living room looked like a frat house on a Friday night. Kids sleeping everywhere. '<em>Did I feed you something weird tonight or did I let you watch a bad show, what's going on? Why is no one in their beds?' </em>I wondered as I positioned kids elsewhere so I could have the big couch to myself.<br />
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Then I fell asleep. <strong>It took me about 3.5 seconds</strong>. Suddenly, I'm awaken by snarling and caterwauling (I know, had to be serious to caterwaul, especially since I don't know what that means but sounded good anyway). Grace sat straight up on the recliner, "mom! what is that?" It could've raised the dead for Pete sake.<br />
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Just then, Ron comes flying out of the bedroom. "Where's a light? There's some raccoons fighting in the grove."<br />
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Now, I don't know about you, but I never see any raccoons around. <br />
<br />
<strong><em>Ever.</em></strong> <br />
<br />
Oh, I know there here, but they're sneaky. Every spring when the air is nice, there maybe a breeze, before the feedlot stinks to high Heaven, we will have the windows open at night in our bedroom. Our bedroom backs up to the grove. Which is apparently equal to a happening raccoon make out spot. AND you hear it...raccoons...for like a week. Every night. Seriously.<br />
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As they screeched, screamed and snarled for a good 10 minutes, I imagined two big males out there on a limb of an old dead cotton wood and a female sitting there trying to look beautiful. I don't know, maybe secretly thinking what idiots these guys were and the males fighting for her. <br />
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When Ron came back in the bedroom with the flashlight, he pushed the button only to have it go dim right away. <br />
<br />
"Darn batteries!" <br />
<br />
By that time Fluff had come by our bedroom window and Ron told her, "go get them girl!" She responded by laying down, as if to say, "no, it's kind of fun to listen to', or she was saying "it's 3 AM and you don't have a decent light, AND <em><strong>I'm not going out there by myself."</strong></em><br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Or maybe just Fluff and I need some more sleep! </span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Sincerely,</strong><br />
<strong>Your very tired Farmgirl</strong>Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-8884584980264470172012-04-21T16:28:00.000-05:002014-04-22T21:44:57.513-05:00Sheep Sitting And Nine Other Crazy Things That Happened This Week<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This week has been "something else" for the lack of a better phrase. Most of it I can't remember right now because I choose not to. </div>
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<strong><em>It will give me a headache.</em></strong> </div>
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And the majority of it happened in about 2 days.</div>
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But I will give you this weeks highlights in a top ten form: </div>
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<strong>10. Sheep Sitting</strong> - Yes, at our farm. Our son was supposed to fix fence for a guy that is using the state land next door. Well, the poor guy came to drop off his sheep on the pasture ground and Cody didn't do a good enough job (our bad, we should've checked it out. After all, the kid is only 14, and has never fixed fence by himself before). So while the guy was ranting to me about how mad he was (he had every right to be) I opened my big mouth and told him to unload them here and I would take care of them until the fence got fixed. </div>
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SO...here I sit with sheep. That aren't my own. That I'm feeding. My hay. But I won't complain, they are actually kinda growing on me. I like them and the funniest thing came out of Grace's mouth. She ran up the driveway from school, ran in the house and screamed "Thank you mom for getting us llamas! I love you!" I'm like, llamas, what the heck? "Mom, you know those llamas in the hog pen! They're beautiful!" </div>
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Sorry honey, they're huge sheep! </div>
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Hee hee!</div>
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<strong>9. Spring cleaning...everywhere! - </strong>What is that grossness under the dish washer? "Kids, go check it out." You just wait, they'll be CSI investigators yet!<br />
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<strong>8. Hatching chicks, ducks and one seriously homely looking goose - </strong>I have to say first of all, most of these 200+ chicks came from our Runnings store. But this gathering eggs, washing them (only once in Dawn dish soap - oops, sorry 25 ducks that went bad!) and watching them hatch, well its' just good for a person ya know!?!<br />
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<strong>7. Watching an idiot get stuck - </strong>Then tearing up the bottom of our lawn. This actually looks a bit better, it was kinda smoothed out with the bobcat to get rid of the deep ruts. When Ron was gone (that's of course when all the magic happens) a truck loaded with gluten came to the yard to drop off. I could tell he hadn't been here before, so I thought I'd flag him down and tell him where to go since I didn't want him getting stuck and going int the wrong place. He drove darn near up the whole driveway and started to back down. <br />
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With me trying to flag him down the whole way. Which he did see me because I was about 5 feet in front of his cab like a crazy lady. <br />
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We.made.eye.contact. After the stupid move he made next, I wanted to have my fist make contact with face, but oh well, I'll hatch out more chicks, do origami and take an anger management class. <br />
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He backed in the wrong way and got so stuck trying to get out of it. What was stupid is he kept givin' her heck when he knew he couldn't get out. Hence the almost 12" digs he made in my yard. <br />
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<strong>So then...</strong>he gets out of the truck comes up to me all mad and says, "I've never been here before how does everyone else do it?" Then, not sorry, just "what do ya got to get me out?" <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">No kidding moron? </span></strong><br />
<br />
The first thing out of my mouth was "what the hell was that?" and "not anything that isn't hooked up to something, I suppose I'll have to drum somebody up" and I took off in a huff, Jessica in tow. Now I know some guys don't want to listen to a woman...<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><em>But I think he should next time, don't you?</em></strong></span><br />
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<strong>6. Washing Wool - </strong>I've done a lot of this in the last few days! I sent some off to the mill to get done, now this is the next that will be going there. I also have a beautiful deep brown that will go there too.<br />
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<strong>5. Nursing this goofball back to health - </strong>Beginning of the week was bad. Then I went out to the barn and there she was, eyes sunken in, breathing hard and looking like crap in general. I would've sworn she was fine the day before. I laid on her and bawled my eyes out.<br />
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The vet came out and fixed her up. She didn't do too bad with all the shots, but the funny thing was he gave her this high energy thing through a tube in her throat. I had to laugh when Ron, who was holding her with all his might said, we should've just put this in a calf bottle."<br />
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Anyway, I gave her a massage the other day and slowly did a rectal temp on her (she didnt' even know) and she's fit as a fiddle once again. <br />
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<strong>4. Paying for this thing to be fixed - </strong>All of the sudden, clunk, chug, puff...DIE. We had to pull it on the trailer with the bobcat. A fuel pump, cam shaft (cam something), oil change and something else later...oops that would be our $800+ check to fix it we got it back. Now, I don't know about you all, but we need this thing. When you are fixing fence a mile down the road and you forgot a tool, it takes a heck of a long time to walk back, hence the "ride" is a great thing. <br />
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I missed you Ranger Crew. Glad you're back...this fat girl doesn't want to run back a mile to get a pliers.<br />
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<strong>3. Thinking up constant egg recipes - </strong>Power down hens!<br />
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<strong>2. Working in the orchard & vineyard - </strong>It sure is funny how romanced your place gets over the winter. I mean how great it is going to be to get outside and work in the fruit. <br />
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ERRRRRR....will I ever learn? This has taken a lot of time friends...<br />
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<strong><em>and it ain't over yet! =)</em></strong><br />
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That brings us to number one.<br />
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Two nights ago, Big D and I were completely shot. We had just washed and incubated a ton of eggs and spiffed up the kitchen and it was 11:30 PM. As we were crawling into bed, D says," Do you hear that?" <br />
"No!" I groaned, I didn't want to hear anything anymore.<br />
"It's something in the toy box chattering. Damn those toys that make sounds!" The toy box is directly on the other side of the wall from his head.<br />
At that point I didn't care and told Big D to go out and find it if it was going to drive him nuts, which he did. Suddenly, I hear toys being thrown, words I can't put into this family friendly blog, and toys sounding off.<br />
"Do you need some help?" I ask as I walked out there. <br />
"It's coming from here," he said pointing to a spot in the toy corner that was about a foot deep with assorted small toys. "Watch out," he said, "it can throw its voice!" <br />
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Okay buddy I think you need more sleep than me. <br />
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Every time you would move something it sounded like there was a high pitched squirrel chattering. You would stop and so would it.<br />
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This went on for a few minutes and we got to the point where we were so tired and on a mission to find it, a chuckle turned into hard laughing and soon we were both crying with laughter. So when we finally found the little thing and D had threatened to shoot it in the morning with his rifle as it sat on a post, we pick it up only to hear another one chatter;<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">Hee, hee, hee, hee!</span></strong><br />
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<strong>So 1. is finding your kids noisy Zhu-zhu pet at midnight in your underwear (not a pretty sight) and hoping you don't wake your kids while you throw the toys in disgust across the room. </strong><br />
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<strong>Love,</strong><br />
<strong>Your crazy Fairchild Farmgirl</strong><br />
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Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6059759706346426544.post-35789472227162440372012-04-13T19:30:00.000-05:002014-04-22T21:52:23.350-05:00The Fairchild Family Vacation (Pretty Much The Griswolds, Only More Of Us)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So before all hell breaks loose for the spring, summer and fall, we took the kids on a vacation. It was wonderful. The first morning I woke up and there wasn't any cow poop smell filling my nostrils. <br />
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<strong><em>Where the heck was I????</em></strong><br />
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On the shores of Lake Superior, near Silver Bay, MN where I went to high school. <br />
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It was actually to spend Easter with my family for a change, then celebrate my parents anniversary and their birthdays.<br />
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Here we are in all our glory.<br />
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Here's Grace after too much sugar from the Easter Bunny.<br />
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Here's the van after yours truly hit a deer two hours into our trip. What can I say? It was bound to happen, on the stretch of road we were on there was dead deer littering the side of the road like garbage. It was insane. Right before it ran in front of me, I thought about what it would be like if I hit one.</div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: x-large;">BAMM!</span></strong> </div>
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Then I knew.</div>
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But we went to a concrete place used a crow bar to get the bumper off the wheel and we were on the road again. Scraped off the guts and we were on our way.</div>
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We stayed here and I found myself never wanting cow manure to enter my nostrils again. On the last night of our vacation, after everybody else went home to their real lives, I went down to my sisters cabin and we got to hang out. It was awesome. Here's the website if you want to stay somewhere amazing. Oh, and the picture is courtesy of Cove Point Lodge.</div>
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<a href="http://www.covepointlodge.com/">http://www.covepointlodge.com/</a></div>
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We also took all the kids hiking at Tettigouche State Park about 5 miles away. I used to hike there a lot with my BFF Mickey. Although, I don't think we ever got lost in the wilderness with eight kids that were hungry at lunch time. But we made it through.</div>
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Overall, this was a great time!</div>
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But you know what? </div>
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By the last morning....</div>
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I woke up thinking about how I needed to smell cow poop.</div>
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Sincerely,</div>
Fairchild Farmgirl<br />
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Fairchild Farmshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18435010771190641691noreply@blogger.com2