I couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to be at 7:18pm this evening.
Where were you?
Archive of ‘Gyspy’ category
THE PIPS TURNED TWO…AND WHAT A WONDERFUL BIRTHDAY PARTY IT WAS!
Several days before I left for my bum-thumb-fated trip to Pennsylvania, we celebrated the Pip’s second birthday. It was sooo much fun! We invited some neighborhood friends, and kids, and parents, and a very special grandma, to join us for the festivities.
I had every intention of posting some great photos when I returned from my Fourth of July trip. It’s just that my dumb-broken-thumb got in the way. But now? I see it as a way to relive a magical afternoon. Every time I think of that afternoon, it makes me smile.
There were so many delightful photos, I had a hard time choosing. What follows, reminds me of a family album. I gotta admit…I’ve gone dizzy looking at some family albums. To the point of asking where the bathroom is…then asking for a glass of water…then…”Oops…I’m out of time…gotta run.”
I can’t help but think this family album…our Freeka’s Funny Farm family album…ROCKS! After all, it’s only once in a lifetime our beloved Pips…Grayson and Pockets…turn two!
Party Down!!!
Elizabeth and I wanted to have fun. BIG FUN. BIG KIDS KINDA FUN.
I figured we needed entertainment. Somewhere out on one of my hiking trails…it hit me. (I love how my brain works on hiking trails.)
YES! We must do…Pin-the-Tail-on-the-PONKEY!
First I sought Recluse Michel-MAN-gelo’s talent. Yup. Got him outta bed early that day…
…took him down to the barn and gave him some chalk and introduced him to his model…
His creative juices started flowing…
Pockets loved her modeling job…
…and that Recluse Michel-MAN-gelo…such talent!
Of course…there is no tail. Just you wait.
Let the party begin!!
That’s Toots greeting Jessica on the left, Nate, and mama Suzy…and a huge bag of carrots!
Dakota and Sabrina!
Hittin’ up the treasure chest…
Dakota and granny Allie… she’s my riding partner from down the road…she’s sixty-nine and kicks my butt on the trails with her little Paso Fino! Allie grew up with her Chincoteague pony who lived to be thirty five!
I had a gut feeling the bunny ears wouldn’t last long on Pockets…
…whad I tell ya…
The pink and purple girls…Suzanne and Pockets…
I encouraged the kids to draw on the barn before we started Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Ponkey.
I’m not sure what kind of creature that is below. Yo…Sabrina!
I used to see monsters like that, hiding under my bed at night…
Dakota in dreads…with the sun shining over her head…
Let’s play Pin-the-Tail-on-the-Ponkey!!!
I braided ten tails from baling twine so peeps could keep their tails. This was not a big hit. I found tails everywhere after the party. Sigh. Pioneer Woman…I am not.
As everyone took turns, they were spun around once wearing a blindfold, then directed toward the barn door. Slap that tail on, remove the blindfold, have a good laugh (for me especially…and apparently Dakota), then initial with chalk.
Dakota went first…now that’s funny!
Next up…Jessica…
Check her out! I love her Lost Unicorn shirt…
Sabrina…
…you rock that tail girl!
Nate…he’s a stellar football player with a soft spot for the Pips…
Hmmm…that’s a tailback position!
And then it was my turn…I asked Jessica to turn me once…
…I was lucky to find the barn door!
You might say…I don’t know my ass from a barn door…
Then along comes smarty-pants Suzanne…
…who could barely find the barn…
…but was smart enough to locate the other tails…
THAT’S IT!
We took down the tails.
Nice try Mama E…are you pinning the tail on the patella?
Some of the adults were too grown-up to bother…in other words…they were drinking beer in the shade…
Did I say…Grown-Up?
We did get Allie…
Tim..
…and Suzy to pin that tail!
After the game, prizes were given to the kids. They were really special gifts Elizabeth had chosen from her horse collection…winner got first pick.
Sabrina and her mini-horse!
There were books and cards and fun horsey things…including Elizabeth’s booklet about the Grayson Highlands ponies…
See Elizabeth smiling her best ‘pony-girl’ grin…
Meanwhile…the artistry continued. I was blown away by how cool the barn was looking!
Pockets inspected. “OH MY GWAD…MY BUTT IS A MESS!”
Now THAT is a HAPPY barn door…
The party was rockin’…
…as the best carrot cake ever was served…
But what about the horsies?
I filled a trough with hay and had the troops sprinkle carrots on top…
Suddenly there was an audience…Gypsy and Star!
They were most attentive…especially when the molasses appeared…
That Star has a looong neck…
I mean really loooong…
We chased the barn gang out to the pasture and shut the gate. It was time for our great leaders to march in the birthday buffet!
Next came Pockets and Grayson…with Grayson charming the girls as always…
What a FEAST! (see the Elders patiently waiting in the pasture)
Elizabeth and I took turns making birthday photos…while Grayson and Pockets munched down with total birthday abandon!
…then finally the Elders were invited in…
Here you see a bit of horse-heaven on earth…
Did I mention it was hot? So very hot in the mountains?
It sure did seem like that fan followed Dave wherever he went……
I know you are wondering if Recluse Man ever got that beer open…
Well…he did…
After our guests left…I couldn’t find Elizabeth…
But Grayson found the beer…
It was a birthday party we will always remember…even the two-year-olds. Right Grayson?
OH MY GWAD. Such a poser that Pockets!
And that my friends…is the end of this chapter from our family album.
How I love a good Tale of Tails!
MY BUM THUMB…SAID FRED THE BED
I have had many nicknames during my lifetime. Freddie, of course, is my everyday nickname. Freeka, my blog name. My mom used to call me Reeculous Ticklehoufer. I liked that name. Mainly because it came from my mom and it was just…ridiculous.
Perhaps the silliest nickname I ever acquired was, ‘Fred the Bed.’ That came from my best girlfriends at summer horse camp. I don’t think there was any relevance, or event, or behavior behind it. Just that it rhymed. These grown women still call me that. Good thing they don’t live nearby.
I share this as a preface to another dumb poem I wrote. It’s part Dr Suess and part explanation as to where the heck I’ve been all summer.
While most people kick off their summer around the Fourth of July, my happy season…my joy…my summer giddiness, came to an abrupt end that memorable weekend.
Hark ye revelers…for the story of my bum thumb…
Yup..I broke my thumb falling off an ATV in Pennsylvania, going zero miles an hour. My right thumb no less. My favorite, most cherished thumb. The one that makes me a right-handed human being.
I was riding tandem, looking for photo opps, when my nephew’s girlfriend tried to turn the ATV around going up a steep embankment. As it started to roll, I elbowed my camera bag over my left shoulder and took the downhill fall with all my weight on my right hand.
CRUNCH went my thumb….followed by LOUD, NAUGHTY words that frightened the wildlife. (animal wildlife…well ok, maybe Katie too)
Here is my chauffeur, Katie, having a blast without a passenger. Behind her is the seat I fell from. Lemme tell ya…riding tandem stinks! 
Said Fred the Bed
Why is my thumb so Red?
Could it be Broke?
Am I Awoke?
Said the Thumb
You are so Dumb!
I am about to Croak
And you just Spoke?
X-rays in Pennsylvania revealed a broken Bennett bone. That’s the bone that hinges the thumb to the rest of the hand. The bone that allows twisting, pinching, squeezing…as in the ability to brush my teeth, use a pitchfork, or wipe my butt right-handed.
Uh boy. It’s gonna be a long summer.
Said Fred the Bed
You are messing with my Head
It’s the Fourth of July
Please don’t lie.
The Yankee doctor fixed me up with a splint so I could drive the ten hours back home to my favorite Southern bone doctors. Because of the holiday weekend, and more X-rays with the Boone Ortho doctors, I didn’t have surgery until a week later.
I had the best nurse. She told me to remove my earrings and watch and any loose teeth. Then she asked a series of questions, including the standard. On a scale of 1-10…what is your pain level? On a scale of 1-10…I think they asked me at least eleven times in four hours.
Finally, she asked if I was comfortable and apologized for the long delay. Then another nurse asked another round of questions starting with the famous 1-10 pain scale opener. She concluded by asking me if I felt like hurting anyone, including myself. Whaaaa?
Now why would she ask that?
Moments later…they took away my cell phone…then my thumb.
Next thing I knew…there was Recluse Man in a fuzzy-wuzzy world…
Said the Thumb
Play your own Drum
But wear this stiff Splint
Like a message in Cement
Oh to hell with my thumb. My hand was very swollen, my fingers were black and blue, and I had a deep wound on my outer pinky from the first splint pinching so hard.
(Outer pinky. I like that. “Hey there…wanna see my outer pinky?”…or… “OK to bring my outer pinky along?”…or…”Wow…my outer pinky is shedding!”)
Yeah…to hell with my thumb…I was feeling no pain with those big, white pills they gave me.
I decorated my splint…
…and hung out with the tribe…
It felt so goofy-good to be home post-surgery. Did I mention those white pills?
One day Recluse Man was painting the barn…
…when Pockets and I decided to get in on the fun…
Uh Oh!
That wonkey ponkey!!
Dang…she figured out the self-timer?
We had a blast!
…just ask Star…
Red roller, red roller…send Lily back over…
Then one day the white pills ran out and reality set in.
May I mention the frustration from trying to use a mouse left-handed with a big-fat-right-bum thumb on the keyboard. Or getting a lefty fork all neat inside my mouth without stabbing or slobbering. Or brushing my teeth…or…tying shoelaces…buttoning… unscrewing… doorhandles… knives…cast iron pans…and OMG…showering with a plastic grocery bag up to my elbow, trying to squirt out shampoo and lather one-handed.
Maybe the worst part was how much it hurt to hold my Nikons for long. Like more than three frames.
I have even greater respect now, for all those who have found ways to overcome limb and appendage disabilities. Humans and animals alike.
Said Fred the Bed
To the Thumb she thought Dead
I will Succumb
Just please..once again be my Thumb.
You are the sum of my Yum
My very right Thumb
The strum of my Hum
The opposite of Glum!
One week after surgery, I found myself back at the doc’s office. The nurse removed the splint to reveal the two pins in my hand…I think she left the gauze for effect. I just want you to know I had the following photos full size, until Recluse Man walked by and gagged.
You can thank him for the thumbnail size. It even sounds appropriate…
YIKES! New splint Paleeze!!! My hand was still very swollen and weak…
Three weeks after surgery I went in again for X-rays and a third splint. I shed a handful of skin as I scratched and waited and ignored the ‘no cell phone usage, no photos please’ sign.
Meanwhile Recluse Man had to cover me on farm chores. Secretly I was smirking. I don’t think he realized what goes into making the zoo and the farm happy everyday. Poor guy.
We got a lot of rain and the grass grew mightily.
I rounded up my own lawnmowers and pitched in…
Many days and nights passed…
Then finally six weeks after surgery, the pins came out! It was a little creepy..the thought of actually pulling the pins out. But it was painless and the best part…I was sent home with a removable splint.
The longest pin was 2.5″…dang. I painted my nails in celebration. After all…I was a left-handed pro by then.
I quickly switched to a thumb brace so I could finally use the mouse right-handed…
But something wasn’t right. My thumb was stiff as a clothespin and I thought it might never heal properly. Since childhood I have had a funky, right thumb. It tends to stick or pop at the knuckle. After all those weeks in a splint, it took days of massaging before I got my thumb to pop back into action.
That first pop was a thrilling moment…
Said Fred the Bed
To her comely Thumb
You are not dead but Instead
What a beauty you’ve Become
My long lost Chum!
As a footnote, (great pun…just wait), check out some photos from this Labor Day morning when our farrier worked on the barn gang. Gypsy got two front shoes, one with a pad for some sole-ful healing on her left foot.
As you can see my thumb is working just fine…
Then…whoa boy! Star had his very first shoeing experience. Another sole-ful foot healing, and as long as he was twitched (most humanely), he was the perfect client.
Right Star? 
Said Fred the Bed…from my thumb…to your thumb…♥♥
FREEKA’S LAWN MOWER MAINTENANCE
I have been living on this funny farm for eight years now. It’s strange how as one grows older, time seems to compress. Eight years!
The past six years I have been a divorcée. (TrAshe County pronunciation; dāy-´VHŌR-sāy) Those first two years while my x and I were separated, we tried to remain friends, and it was during that time I borrowed his trusty old Husqvarna weed eater. Never to give it back.
That was perhaps the best deal of the entire divorce. From both our points of view. I didn’t want his Rolls Royce, his house or his lifestyle. Just gimme the Husqi.
That weed wacker (my preferred term although they are officially known as weed trimmers or string trimmers), has lasted longer than my marriage and almost every other useful thing from my former life. It has also outlived two lawn mowers on the farm, a wheelbarrow, and four short-term boyfriends. I may have to kill it, if it tries to outlive Recluse Man or me.
I could tell you the Husqi has had a good long life because I have maintained it so well, when actually I have done very little, save for replacing a few parts.
I do, however, believe in proper maintenance….hosing after use, storing inside, checking oil, winterizing, sharpening blades…that kind of thing.
This applies to all methods of reducing grass and weed growth. Including my very own free-range-mobile-mowers.
Please meet #1 (Gypsy on left) and #2 (Star on right) mowers….
#3 mower (D.O.G.) is in the distance, and is much loved but obviously does not have the horsepower the others do…
#2 mower has a halter on because he went AWOL several weeks ago, while he was solo mowing. Apparently there was a mower in heat down the road.
Watch as #1 mower teaches #2 mower where to refuel…
Normally I break up the carrots but this was one-handed shooting for effects…
#2 mower looks a little dorky with burrs in his forelock…ya think?
Oh Boy…high octane carrots!
Self-serve was available…but they seemed to prefer full-serve at the porch fuel station…
#2 mower inquired about having his teeth scratched…he’s weird that way…
Talk about full service!
Little did #1 and #2 mowers realize as they chomped their fuel…
#3 mower was fast approaching…well maybe not fast by your standards…
As far as I know…#2 mower had never had an up-close and personal encounter with #3 mower…
#2 mower looked to #1 mower for direction…
#2 mower decided not to follow course…
…when suddenly #3 mower changed direction…
I caught up with #3 mower…who btw…was still sporting the remains of a pink pedicure…
I offered a full-service-on-the-hill refuel…
#3 mower was much obliged…
…until #2 mower came into the picture…
That #3 mower sure can cut a turn…
Poor #3! Can’t a mower refuel in peace?
Is this fuel wars or turf wars?
#3 mower can really skedaddle when he needs to!
Perhaps #2 mower had never seen #3 mower at full speed…he was amazed!
Quickly, any fuel or turf wars were settled.
The mowers were feeling well maintained and revving to go…
Off to do their duties they went singing… ‘You Go Your Way…I’ll Go Mine’…
LET IT SNOW
There’s something about a BIG snow that brings out the Neanderthal in me.
This behavior pattern…it seems to happen over and over again…whenever it seriously snows.
This is what I know.
I’ll find myself all toasty warm inside, standing at the door, mesmerized, watching a winter storm play out over the pasture below. Snowflakes putting on quite the show…suddenly sweeping sideways…or zipping upside down…or rocketing downward before crashing in a blur of mates. Their fellow snowflake-soulmates in the soulful snowflake cemetery in the pasture below. The snowful-mates are falling en masse. The snowflake cemetery is getting a pile on.
That’s when I get dizzy.
Where are the horsies? Usually I’ll see Pockets in her favorite position…looking my way from inside the little barn door.
And that’s when it happens. The Neanderthal moment. Cooped up far too long, I’ll suddenly feel like a lunatic cave woman who needs to come out of her cave-closet. It’s far more than just wanting fresh air. And it’s way worse than cabin fever.
I want to paint my face and shed my clothes. I want to run and shout and chase ponies and horses and snowflakes…like a neked crazy cave woman on the brink.
“AAARGHHGOBANSHEEEEZEETWERKERSHERFURYERMAMAMAGRRRRRRRGOGO!” (I’ll shout at the horsies).
BUT WAIT JUST A MOMENT! HOLD YER HORSIES!!
I am a 21st century Neanderthal-Farm-Chick. I close my eyes, breathing deeply through my nose. A moment of meditation. I gather myself. I do a downward dog. I see an upside down D.O.G. Time to make a run for it.
But first I must dress the part. Carhartt – Muck Boot chic. And instead of painting my face, I pack my camera bag. Then I am ready to go run and shout and chase ponies and horses and snowflakes.
I’ll yell at the top of my lungs…”BLAAAAH! BLAAAH-BLAH-BLAH-BLAAAH!!!” (not very original…and the horsies are onto me)
So I wave my arms and shake an empty feed bag…”BLAAAH!”
My pec muscles are aching the next day.
Shall we get on to some favorite snowy farm photos?
BLAAAAH!!!!
The first January snow was a light one. Somewhat windy…but that makes it even more exciting for a soccer game.
Grayson was chomping at the ball…
…practicing his moves…
Star had never met a horse-soccer ball…much less played the game. (Does Gypsy look like a bored soccer mom?)
Grayson promised to teach Star…
Pockets said…”OH MY GWAD…DA SAME DUM GWAY BALL…I WAAAH PUHPLE!!”
Then suddenly Grayson kicked the ball and sent it flying..
…or maybe it was Star who was flying!…
So much so…he needed to get up close and personal…and sniff…
…and lick…before the gray ball terror subsided…
Grayson showed Star some moves…
Then said, “YER TURN!”
Star snickered…”Heck Yeah…Bite This…Pelé!”
Ambihooftrous…no less! Wowzer!
It was halftime and I barged in. “Alright! Enough! Time for a family portrait!”
It was a beautiful color-coordinated portrait…Olan Mills style…
…until Star could no longer help himself…or actually did help himself…to a sniff…
NEXT SNOW???
Bad attitudes all the way around. Gypsy took it upon herself to lead the tribe around and around the round pen. Every which right way I was rounding…she rounded about the other wrong way…
In a roundabout way…it was wrongful and ridiculous…
It was clearly a conspiracy…
…there was no getting around it…
Finally Star approached me cautiously…while Gypsy held back.
BAD MANNERS!!!
BAD PARENTING!
Pockets was the only one to show remorse…or maybe those were just snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes…
Whatever…I gave up.
Then the BIG KAHUNA came along. It was supposed to be a two foot mega-blizzard last weekend…but wimped out at barely twelve inches. I am very happy with wimpy snow. That very same wimpy snow is still glaring at me.
During the so-called blizzard…Pockets was briefly misidentified as a dirty snowflake…
I couldn’t help myself. I turned Neanderthal and whooped it up…
I may have had a little help…who dat?…Recluse Man?? Go Ahead!!! I’m ready…shake that bag!!!
Poor Pockets…almost tummy-high in the snow…it was hard for her to keep up…
…especially while Mama G’s silly boyfriend was showing off his fancy footwork!
Around the pasture they ran…with Star in the lead…
…until…”OH MY GWAD!” said Pockets…
“NOT DA BIG HILL!!”
Pockets was as determined as any ponkey had ever been..
It required enormous ponkey-will-power…
Once up top…Pockets was very proud of herself…
But then she made it clear..we needed to talk…
“I WAAH WONGER WEGS!’ she said…
Umm…ok…is that the end of the conversation?
The next day when the sun popped…she was feeling better…nuttin’ finer than a snow beard to cheer a ponkey!
And it was then that I discovered what Pockets excels at in a snowy world…
SNOW PLOWING!
How about doing the driveway next… Pockets??
Stay tuned for the next blizzard!
2015 … A YEAR IN PICTURES FROM THE FUNNY FARM
Sheesh…I am hiding in the barn…it’s taken me so freekin’ long to publish a post.
Yes.
It’s me. I’m back. The gone-forever girl.
Lotsa water under the bridge.
Lotsa poo shoveled.
Lotsa trying times.
Lotsa healing days.
Lotsa joy.
Lotsa horses.
Lotsa laughter and love with my tribe… and especially Recluse Man.
Dang. I could write a corny country song.
That was the end of 2015 in a nutshell. And now here it is already the second week of January.
While sweeping out the old and bringing in the new, I thought it might be a good thing to share some of my favorite funny farm photos from 2015. Little did I know how long it would take. In fact…I had to get a wrist brace to finish this post!
Holy Cow Patties…did I ever get carried away! I do believe I have Photoshop Tendonitis.
Before I begin with this indescribably hilarious and seemingly bottomless blog post…(OMG…how many photos and words did I include???)…let me announce our latest addition to the tribe…STAR!!!
That would be the very same Star-Trek-Wars-damn-horse I tried to load on the trailer for 24 days…then finally walked here…2.2 miles in 45 minutes..smooth and easy.
After a short trial period with Star and Gyps and the Pips…about one week before Christmas…my crazy boyfriend…that Recluse Man who I love…told me he wanted to buy Star as a Christmas gift for me.
HAPPY HEART POUNDING WITH GLEE!! INDESCRIBABLE JOY BEYOND WORDS!!! That’s what I was feeling when Recluse Man asked me what I thought about the idea. HEAD IN THE CLOUDS!!
Welcome to the farm…you hot-blooded-red-headed stranger..STAR!
You’re mine all mine!
Now for some favorite farm photos from 2015…
Let’s start with Freeka’s Funny Farm covered in snow…
Grayson and Pockets had arrived two days before Christmas 2014, when their Mama Elizabeth brought them to live on the farm. They were born into feral herds in June 2014, at Grayson Highlands State Park. Three months later, Elizabeth bought them at the annual pony auction. Six months after their birth…they joined my tribe.
OK…so one is a ponkey…(half pony – half donkey). Guess who?
(hint…the one hiding her ears…)
What the hay??? Gypsy had never seen such pip-squeaks before! Could it be???? Gyps & the Pips??? Move over Gladys Knight!!!
Such short legs running in the snow!
Gypsy wondered if she was ready to be a soccer mom…
Will they ever grow?
She thought…they were so funny looking…
But with such a sense of humor! Why Gypsy was a smash at motherhood!
Then one February day, a pot bellied pig named D.O.G. arrived…
His human, Tommy, had been looking for a good home for him…
A little peanut butter bribery on a stick, and D.O.G. discovered his new home in our abandoned chicken coop…
No doubt…D.O.G. wondered where he had landed…is this the moon?
I was so tickled to have a pig.
I mean he WAGGED HIS TAIL AT ME…the very FIRST MORNING!!!!
I GUSHED and SWOONED!!!! (while he chomped and smiled)
On the second morning, after the weather got very cold, D.O.G. figured out where Recluse-Banana Man lives…
Recluse-Banana Man is way more fun than those mean ponies and yapping dogs…
They were so up close and personal…
D.O.G. decided ‘Running with the Pips’ wasn’t for him…
After that…the pigster free-range grazed until I worried he’d become bigger than our house…
D.O.G. considered going on a diet…(very briefly)…in order to fit through the dog door…
Meanwhile…winter was still wagging around…
I’ve always loved that late-winter day when the Rose-breasted Grosbeaks finally arrive…
Elizabeth and I did silly things and made lots of photos…
We found out Grayson does not like to wear hats or jewelry…but will gladly nibble on any-damn-thing…don’t ask me about Mama E’s taste in hairdos…
Pockets? Why she just LUUUVS to dress-up!
Our Starlet!
It was the Pips first winter!
“Who cares?”…said the pig! I’m running away from home…
Sing it Toots!
No matter what season…Blue pursued his favorite pastime…
…while I found the secret to giving D.O.G. a successful pedicure…
When the warm weather returned, Recluse Man did some spring cleaning. Much to Lily’s disgust…he tossed the TrAshe county porch couches!!! WTCOUCH???
In between repairing fences, Recluse Man discussed the merits of having white hair…with his favorite hairy-white friend Pockets…
As a result…she felt uplifted!!!
After all…she’s a honkey-fonkey-furry-white-ponkey!!!
Pockets…”OH MY GWAD…It’s tough hangin’ wif a fwend like Gwayson…”
Hey let’s not forget how cute the pigster is…all posing in front of the rhododendron…he is…
By early spring, Elizabeth and I were walking Gyps and the Pips to the river and around the neighborhood. The Pips were learning about halters and lead ropes and voice commands…(theoretically)
Spring on the farm!!!
Spring is for the birds!! It was my first year putting suet out through the winter and beyond…
Such payoffs! (ok…so I’ve never had a grackle at a feeder before)
Jesse-Linguini was nearly fully recovered from her ACL surgery by spring, and was ready to run and play outside…ya think?
Jess…”gimme one more dang dog toy and Ima rip out yer persnal sqweeker…5 sekunds or less”)
Then…Pockets saw her first rainbow…
…and fainted…
…what a drama queen…
Elizabeth comes out every chance she gets…
…while Recluse Man and I try to find a little time to ourselves…
…but there’s always competition…and serenading in the background…HA!
Then when we finally GO somewhere…
… it FREEKIN’ rains!!!
Who cares??? We’ll make the most of it!
Back on the farm…while I was tending to daily chores… 
Recluse Man was singing in the shower…and that would be the Minny Whinny shower!
If I recall, he was singing…”Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain…” …oh go SPLISH SPLASH..will ya?!
What the heck you doin’ there Recluse Man???? Quite the psychedelic landscape…are you on the Magic Bus?
D.O.G. enjoyed hanging out on our porch and gave up on the chicken coop sometime during late spring. He was fine with going up three steps to get to the porch…but he made it perfectly clear he did not like going back down the steps. It required serious bribery.
As experts…we found tortilla Pringles worked the best…
Then we set up a ramp. It was an instant success with at least two of the d.o.g.s…
Dog Day Afternoon…but where’s the D.O.G.? Did he really go down the ramp????
Tommy showed up one hot summer day and shortly after we decided I would become D.O.G.’s permanent human. Hot diggity D.O.G.!!!
Nuttin’ like having a watermelon-eatin’ partner who doesn’t spit seeds…
I hope we don’t start looking like each other…like dog owners so often do…
The pigster loves it when spa day rolls around…
He gets a pedicure…a facial…a tusk cleaning…and…WATERMELON!!!…
It didn’t take long to realize…if the pigster’s nails aren’t polished…he develops a shoe fetish…
We love a reason to throw a good party around here…
When the Pips turned one…
…we made the most of it…
…until Pockets got schnockered on molasses and we had to cut her off…
Then Fourth of July…
I had one hat to share…
….well maybe two…
Go Toots!…the others skedaddled when they heard fireworks in the distance…something to be said about ‘hard of hearing’…how I know…right Toots?
RIGHT TOOTS?
SUMMER…my first, second, third…favorite season…
When I go to war with the watercress…
…and I think I’m winning…but not…
(Let’s check in with Blue again…ok…still the same.)
When summer rolls around, we buy new Koi from a local high school FFA program. That’s after the freekin’ great blue herons and raccoons and kingfishers have feasted to the point of heartbreak and tears through the previous seasons.
The release of a new generation brings joy and anticipation. Yet often, we don’t see them for up to a full year after their release in our pond. Fortunately, we picked out some exhibitionists this time around…
…good luck amigos…
…listen to your elders..
…and follow your bliss…(before the barracudas show up…)
Back to summer….
Did I mention Recluse Man’s summertime pizzas??? LOADED with love…and olives…and herbs and peppers and cheese…fresh from the garden and markets…
The pigster was caught stalking…like ….’every breath you take…every move you make…Ima watchin’ you’…PIZZA…REALLY????
Occasionally the pigster would go AWOL. I freaked when he did this the first two times…but then realized it was a simple search and rescue to bring him home.
I am…after all…D.O.G.’s…The Bounty Hunter…with CHEERIOS!!!!
Ah Ha!!! Got him!
Meanwhile…Lily greeted every visitor to the farm…
…and experimented with mud packs…
…while the other d.o.g.s laughed…or napped at the thought of such ambition…
“Hey Toots…those ain’t marshmallows …ok girl?”
Who Cares???? Look what Recluse Man got….
Lookin’ good biker dude…it’s a Honda Shadow for croooooosin’!!
Summer is wonderful. After weedwacking and sweating and mowing for hours…I pretend I’m livin’ the life. Coconut bras and pineapple drinks galore…(oops…did I order the wrong size coco’s?)
And then I started blogging…and life changed…
I found myself sharing thoughtful, retrospective, deep-delving glimpses and realizations…even while revisitng my boarding school of years past…
…I found myself sharing the kind of urban chick I used to be…when I had a studio and lived five minutes from town…
I found myself chomping on the reins to share every little ride…
ENOUGH!!! TIME OUT!!!
Does anyone need a TV or couch? ….
OK. Back to work…it’s hay season!! (wtf???…are those Pips loose?)
Is this Meals on Wheels?
Somehow I got talked into pullin’ and stackin’ bales…
It’s a primitive and itchy job…
…that requires some airing out…
…and a good farm hand on hand…
Meanwhile…during hay season…Pockets discovered she lives in a gated community!!!
…yet not far away is an authentic outhouse!!!!
(Oh My GWAD…people poop! lemme outta here!!!)
Blue continued to pursue his favorite pastime…
…as did his bgf…Moondust…
The hummers were a daily sideshow…I made hundreds of hummer photos…
…and braved the rain (from under the deck roof)… 
I was not alone in my fascination…
Moondust had arisen…
…while the Pips practiced their two-step…
…and the pigster turned rasta…
Then Halloween rolled around…
…or is that Elizabeth rolling around???
Pockets finally met ‘the Great Ponkin’…(dang…that hat gets around)…
…then chomped The Great Ponkin’s offspring…
…while D.O.G. dressed as Wilbur…
“Trick or Treat???”…the pigster asked…
“TRICK OR TREAT…LET ME IN OR I’LL BLOW THE DANG DOG DOOR IN!”
Waza matter pigster….been chompin’ too many treats…’eh???
Ahhh…the beauty of autumn…when the Pips run wild…(or just stand and chomp)…
…an occasional walk is good…
Next thing ya know it’s snowing…wait…that’s not snow…ah hem…Lily…oh LILY???
“It gets so cold outside….paleeze let us in????” (use the dang dog door dummies!)
Holiday season is on…
…and Elizabeth seemed to love her new Muck Boots…
…but I had to tell her to tuck in her pants…WTH girlie???
…she got it…finally…
…meanwhile the pigster had moved inside..and tried to disguise himself among the spotty furniture…
It was pointless to try and hide with a sock monkey…indeed..catastrophic…
…it became a funny farm…’cativity scene’…
Yet I was discouraged…trying to load Star to bring him to the farm…I knew…he knew…he wasn’t going to fit in my car…
After days and days of working with him…I got him to load…
…so long as no one was at the back gate…
Finally after 24 days of trying to transport Star in the trailer…I decided we’d trek 2.2 miles to my farm. What a Star-Trek…one mile of which was on a fast two lane highway…this part had me freeked….until we had a perfect practice walk…
I was never happier to get him on the farm in one piece…
….then we all fell to pieces over his dance steps…
…even Grayson…the little man…
Star had never met a critter so poised and confident…and wanting to smell his butt…as Pockets…
Let’s get on with Christmas!
Too bad Mama E had to leave for her hometown of New Orleans…
…but of course Santa would watch over her Pips…
…when he wasn’t posing…
…or caught in the act….(What the heck…Santa…that’s my barn door!!!)
I quickly forgave Santa when he gave me a horse of my own for Christmas…
…dats right you red-headed beauty…you are part of the tribe now!!!
…shall we belly-bump Santa?
Pockets was not amused…there was nothing in HER stocking…”WAAAAAH?”
…dang…even the rasta pigster who doesn’t celebrate holidays that feature ham on the table…
…got something!!!
…as Linguini says…”it’s all in your attitude…”
…and with that…I believe the year closed on a good note…let’s ask Grayson…
..better yet…lemme hug on Santa…
Stay tuned for more zaniness from the funny farm in 2016…
Be back soon…ya hear?
PHOTOS OF THEDAY – POCKETS THE PUPIL – November 6, 2015
I’m sure she would agree with me when I say Pockets had a most interesting afternoon. That girl loves to expand her fonkey-ponkey mind.
For starters…Recluse Man had to make some final measurements before he gets supplies for some barn improvements. We’re extending the roof, adding some doors on the stalls and changing some gates. Apparently this is of great interest to the gang..and most especially Pockets.
For Photos of the Day…check out Pockets the Pupil…
When he realized no treats were being passed out, Grayson quickly lost interest. But Pockets? Why she had her nose in the book…
On behalf of her babies no doubt, Gypsy studied the new stall plans…
…while Pockets made it clear she needed to see at her own eye level…
“Hey Wecluse Man…I waahna dwaah,” said Pockets
“Dwaah your nose in here,” said Recluse Man…
After much scrutiny, Pockets finally agreed to the plan…
Then on to the round pen to wait her turn…
“Sheesh…this could take forever….GIT ON WIF IT GWAYSON!!!”
“I WAAH MY TURN!”
You gotta love a ponkey who loves to learn.
Here’s to Pockets the Pupil!
PHOTO OF THE DAY – ALL BARK AND NO BITE – October 29, 2015
It’s tough enough when you are tiny.
It’s even tougher when your sidekick calls you a mini-mule…and your mama wonders why you are still a midget.
For Photo of the Day…see Pockets holding her own.
Paleeze…don’t ever say…she’s all bark and no bite!!!
…not that fonkey-wonkey-ponkey…oh no-no-no!!!
WE HAD A BALL! … watch play-by-play … TEAM GRAYSON VS TEAM POCKETS
Tom Brady has nothing on my tribe when it comes to deflate-gate. After Freeka’s Funny Farm experienced its own deflate-gate, I know first hand. I was the interrogator, and lemme tell ya, my interrogatees were way slicker than any four time Super Bowl champ.
It all started last winter when I got the Pips an amazing Stacy Westfall purple pony ball with a durable, protective cover, designed to give many months and even years of entertainment. Elizabeth and I were brimming with excitement when we introduced the ball to the Pips. We taught them the rules of soccer and had a few pick-up games and it was great fun and a good way to warm up in the winter.
The Pips were fiercely competitive…
…Pockets liked to chomp and run the ball…
…she had some weird defensive moves…
…and she let us know when it was a bad call…
…and played dead when she didn’t get her way…
Poor Grayson couldn’t take all the drama.
(weren’t they just the cutiest patooties at seven months old?)
I think we made it through one month before deflate-gate occurred. Ironically, it was right around Super Bowl. My Linguini-dog looked awfully guilty. But so did a Pip or two. Or was it Gypsy? I interrogated everybody who had been in contact with the purple ball, but of course they all denied any wrongdoing. Very coincidentally and shortly after, they all destroyed their smart phones. I was never able to get a confession or any hard proof.
“Oh My Gwad,” said Pockets … “Wadawegondoo?” She was not the main suspect and I felt her pain…missing that purple ball and all. We tried a few patching techniques but nothing held. The purple ball was folded up and lowered in rank on the ‘to doo’ list, as Pockets calls it.
Then one day Mama E showed up with a new gray ball! I had my doubts it would last through one game. But like Elizabeth said, “So what if it pops, it was cheap! We’ll get another.” And another and another? Could we get prettier colors? Boy, I’m starting to sound like Pockets. There would be no interrogating if this one deflated. It would be death from natural and purposeful causes.
We introduced the new ball and set the rules. Each face-plant counted as one point. Simple as that. No goal lines. No yard lines. Just face-plants. Elizabeth and I would ref the game, and document it for the benefit of modern equine science. I just made that up….but I like the idea.
Off we go….
Grayson immediately gave the ball some test chomps…
Pockets was cautious, but wondered what ‘gray’ smelled like…
As Mama E documented…who’s that in the distance? Recluse Man mowing around the pond? For heavens sake…somebody’s gotta do it!
“Follow me,” said Elizabeth….”Let the game begin!”
“Harumph,” said Pockets … (have you ever heard a ponkey say ‘harumph?’…. it’s quite funny)
Grayson wanted to encourage his beloved ponkey, but teased her instead…using that gwadawful ‘half-ass’ name…just knowing it would put her nickers in a knot… 
Mama E reviewed the rules…
When Pockets deferred, it became Team Grayson’s ball… 
He didn’t waste anytime!
NICE MOVES GRAYSON!
What the heck is the ponkey looking at???
Who cares? Look at that Pelé move!!!
IS HE GONNA SCORE????
YES!!!!!!!!!
IT’S A FACE-PLANT!!!!!!
TEAM GRAYSON 1…TEAM POCKETS 0!!!
OK! You can stop rolling on the ball now!
DO NOT POP IT …YOU SHOWOFF!!!!
It’s Team Pockets ball now…Woot Woot! 
GO POCKETS!
say waaaaah?
FOUL!!!! NO BACK-KICKING!!!
HAY!!!! GIT BACK HERE!!!
Team Pockets was out of control, running madly around the playing field…
Is Recluse Man still mowing??? Poor dude.
Pockets finally settled down, then sulked in the weed patch…
It was time for an intervention…. 
Elizabeth thinks she’s gained back some respect…
Yeah right… run to mommy…you wonkey ponkey…
Back to the game…
Grayson makes it clear…this is his ball…
…and again, wastes no time…
..and it’s another FACE-PLANT FOR GRAYSON!!!
…he is slow to recover…or is he eating grass?
..or maybe he wanted to show Team Pockets how to do it!!!
TEAM GRAYSON 2…TEAM POCKETS 0!
Grayson runs a victory lap…grass still in his mouth!
LET’S GO AGAIN!!!
Notice the competition… far left…showing utter contempt for the gray ball…
WHOA!!! SWEET MOVES!!!
WHAT’S THIS??? ANOTHER FACE-PLANT!!!!
TEAM GRAYSON 3 … TEAM POCKETS 0
(ok…you can stop eating now)
Pockets goes over to congratulate her opponent…(thanks Eliz for the greeeaaaat photo)
Suddenly Gypsy decides to put a spark in her little ponkey…(another good one by Elizabeth!)
Up and down the field they go…that is, Grayson and Gypsy…Pockets decided to stay downfield…
It was becoming quite clear…Pockets did not like the gray ball…no wonder…her color is PURPLE!
I can hear her now …”I WAAAAAAH MY PUURRRPLE BALL!!!”
Even Mama E couldn’t get her to play…
Meanwhile…Grayson was having a gray BALL!!!! 
He was balling with joy!!!
…for the whole world to see! (dang…if I have to look at RM mowing one more time!)
AND WHAT’S THIS???? FACE-PLANT #4!!!
TEAM GRAYSON 4 … TEAM POCKETS 0
The bell rings and it’s the….
END OF THE GAME!
LOOK AT THAT HAPPY PONY!!!!
But JUST A MINUTE!!!! Team Pockets wants a rematch… with…you got it…a PURPLE BALL!!! (thanks Mama E for a great closing photo!)
STAY TUNED FOR THE REMATCH!!!!!
