For Auld Lang Syne

I didn't like this year very much. Can I have a replacement, please?

I need less of this:

Goodbyes...

Chris and Saphu ran away to Albuquerque.

Ellen went to live with Jesus

Timmy left on tour again.
Ok, it has only been 12 hours but after having him as a
roommate for a few months, it has hit harder this time.

Kiste went to live with Jesus, too.

The Young family moved to Las Vegas.
The land of sin and broken promises.
Can you come home now?

Scars...

I would like to say my foot is normal again but it is not and that is a daily frustration

I need more of this:

Sydney (and all that goes with him)

Mascot Loving

Riding.


Being in love

Self-Portraits


My Stoic, Rediculous Beast


The beach.
Is that really so much to ask?

Oktoberfest and Egg Dances

The Idaho Family Contingent
the dangerous activities are just a bonus

Time outside, in the mountains, in the snow, in the sun. Hmmm.

Peace.



Sound smart at midnight:

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind ?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
and days of old lang syne ?

CHORUS:

For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we'll take a cup of kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

And surely you’ll buy your pint cup !
and surely I’ll buy mine !
And we'll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have run about the slopes,
and picked the daisies fine ;
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot,
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

We two have paddled in the stream,
from morning sun till dine^† ;
But seas between us broad have roared
since auld lang syne.

CHORUS

And there’s a hand my trusty friend !
And give us a hand o’ thine !
And we’ll take a right good-will draught,
for auld lang syne.

CHORUS

Happy New Year!
is my wish for us all

Give Thanks

Thanksgiving
at the
Farmington Family Compound

It is no small feat to feed as many mouths as you will find at the Thanksgiving tables in Farmington. I think this year there were over 30 (is that right, Libby?) and the thing I find the most impressive about the whole operation is the absence of drama.


Pappy and Cori making gravy and so happy doing it



Big and little Libby


Johhny (of John and Ash) with little Ruby
Photography courtesy of Miss Sophie



Hey Ruby. How delicious are those potatoes?


These are no Rhodes warm and serve. They are the real Cindy special.
Again, photography by Sophie


Cori and her Pies, pies, pies, pies. Pies, pies, pies, pies!

The real reason we all get together... Black Friday.

Thank you for welcoming me into your brood.
I am a very lucky girl.

Happy Mormon Christmas

The Great Muppet Rhapsody

If this doesn't make you smile, we can't be friends any more.

All Hallows Eve - Sucks

I really tried to like Halloween this year but alas, it is another holiday in which I find little to no joy.

I think this may be a great life issue than the holidays themselves but that is another post for another time, I suppose.

This year I felt extra pressure to make our costumes and do what I could to get in the spirit and enjoy the experience. I stole Elliott's costume idea from Martha Stewart and then just made mine to compliment that.

For someone who doesn't sew or engage in any other activities with their hands, this was a major undertaking and I was proud with the outcome until I saw these photos.

I think Elliott looks adorable and Kimball looks funny but he doesn't look like the chicken I had intended as he would not wear a beak. Sometimes dogs stand up for themselves and that is frustrating.

My costume just sucks. I am glad there weren't any additional photos of it because it would just make me angrier that I spent so much time and money on it and I look like a...
I am doing my best not to be totally irrational about my appearance so I will end that sentence prematurely.

So there you have it. I made an effort and I still hate Halloween.

Sorry if that makes me boring or uncreative but the reality is this: I was raised to believe I was a creative person and I have come to realize that is not the case.

For over 20 years, I functioned under the delusion that I had an innovative personality but this is just not true.

I am not good at imagining or looking past the realm of precise reality that I am faced with. I can be philosophical but I cannot be imaginative.

Therefore, the stress and social pressure of coming up with something creative and fun to dress up as and showcase to the world is at the top of my least favorite things list.

I just had to tell it like it is.

Football, the Finer Sport

Salt - Lake - REAL
clap, clap,clap, clap, clap

Timmy and Elliott, loving our 5th row seats at the REAL game Saturday

Timmy is very serious about this sport

I am serious about the bucket of Fried Chicken I won

Did I mention that I love sporting events?

Soccer might be my favorite because:

-You can text your food order and they deliver it to your seat
-It is noisy. The pounding drums the entire 90+ minutes keep the crowd alive
-This is the only group activity with more over-acting than high school drama
-Men who look unassuming pull out crazy acrobatic moves while running
-It isn't happening on my TV, in my living room

And then there were 3

Our sweet chick-a-dee, Ellen went to live with Jesus on Saturday

She had a beautiful afternoon taking in the warm sun
and lounging in the leaves with Buddy

I cried.

(I must admit I was excited to have an occasion to use the cheesiest photo effects I could find.
I am sad it was at Ellen's expense)

I turned 32

A month ago I put another notch in the birthday belt.

My sweet, pixie sized assistant, brought me the tastiest cupcakes from


My friends, Andrea and Rob
hosted a party for me at my house, with a great showing of fun people that I love
AND

I pierced my nose.
Can't see it? Its there and it is cute!
I've wanted to do it for a long time and finally decided there was no time like NOW

So, 15 min before my party I dragged Big Sis to the piercing shop
and had an extra hole put in my nose.
Thanks Grandma Suzie for the birthday $, it went to good use.

Happy Birthday to me.
I hope the glitter of my nose will distract from the crow's feet that are forming around my eyes.

From Livestock to Feathered Friend

I knew I never should have given my chickens names. I just couldn't resist the temptation to have these funny little creatures wandering about and chattering with one another and not have my own verbal tool to delineate them when I felt compelled to join in.

That was a bad decision.

Last week we had our first real challenge as urban farmers when Ellen (also known as "Jew Chicken", because of her ear-locks...and maybe her nose) started to tip over. Yes, she started tipping over.

What causes a chicken to tip? You may ask.

Chicken tipping is caused by one, of the two, chicken legs being rendered useless by some traumatic event. What this event was or when it happened is not known. What I do know, is it was breaking my heart a little.

This is the point where the line of being a farmer and raising livestock for practical purposes gets blurred with the pet lover who would have goats and alpacas eating at the kitchen table,
if such behavior didn't drive your friends & husband away.

I took a day to think & weigh my options and decided I needed to call upon the veterinary skills of my Hobie.
As soon as I dialed the phone, I knew I had removed the possibility of exercising my instinct as a farmer, this chicken was now a pet.
Dammit.

Ellen and I spent a lovely morning at the vet where she was dutifully examined and found to have a sprained chicken ankle and hip. I didn't really even know that they had ankles and hips. That is until I thought about what I had eaten for dinner the night before. Oops, don't tell Ellen.
She is also malnourished, which makes me feel incredibly guilty, and she has a serious chicken infection of some kind.

I left Ellen with Heather to be cared for over the weekend while we were off celebrating Grandma Suzie's 60th, only to be sent photos of my chicken in a cast and news that she had decided she was a lap and house chicken.
Really? This was not part of the plan.


So now, we have a chicken in a cast who needs to be house separately to keep her mobility to a minimum and to keep the bully chickens from harassing her.
She is on antibiotics on an anti-inflammatory, defeating the purpose of organic free range eggs. AND she should have been laying eggs a month ago and has yet to produce.

Being a farmer is expensive and more heart wrenching than it should be.
I will stand by my Urban Movement for the good of the feather community.

Oktober-Festivities

Things about October that make me happy:


Heffeweisen
in my collectible cup celebrating the 30 year Snowbird tradition of Oktoberfest



Food to make your heart stop...with happiness

The Egg Dance:
Keep this egg between your heads without touching it with body parts below the neck

Elliott and I didn't win but I laughed hard enough to work off the food pictured above.
A truly delightful afternoon.


The Alpenhorn
Played by my favorite band Salzburger Echo
I tried to hire them for my wedding and every time i hear them it breaks my heart a little

Did I mention that it was snowing, HARD?
We froze and I loved it.
Sometimes having fun is hard.

This made me laugh a little

Farming is fun

This little press release made me really happy.

I know I am a yuppy who pays too much for produce and local art but it makes me feel better that I am not alone in my love for my crowded weekend outing to Pioneer Park.

I appreciate that my favorite Saturday activity of browsing over priced veggies (to put in my canvas bag) and rubbing shoulders with 10,000 other people wearing Chacos and showing off their dogs, is loved by others.

I'm proud of you Salt Lake.
Just don't tell anyone else how cool you really are.

I miss you, blog

I need to be inspired. Any thoughts out there?

My Awkward Phase

I would like to think that my awkward phase was in Jr. High when I wore my MC Hammer pants to school 3 days a week or dressed like Robin Hood with my off-white tights, shorts and moccasins all complimented by a really bad cropped haircut. Alas, that was only round 1.
(this isn't me, but I LOVE it!)

After careful self-assessment, following a string of ridiculous and awkward events I would like to publicly acknowledge that another awkward stage is in full swing.

I have lost control of my periphery and this seems to be effecting my ability to control my limbs the way I feel I should or have been able to in the past.

I trip a lot. Usually after looking back to see what I have just run into with my shoulder.

I fumble with things as if my fingers are twice as long as they actually are. You should have seen me trying to put the chain on my bike the other day. Not good.

My brain has also started to fumble, a lot. I have always taken pride in being a practical problem solver but that ability has dwindled. When the chain came off my bike I stood there, in the cross walk just tugging and watching nothing happen. What? That is not my style. It took a friendly coach (thanks Maya) to suggest that I get out of the street and turn the bike over to address the problem.

Oh but wait...I forgot to take the tomato salad out of my saddle bags. Guess what happens when you turn oily tomato salad upside down. Not good.

So here I am digging an awkward hole with every step I take and then the problem compounds itself by adding another level of self consciousness.
Is it possible to be conscious of the fact that you are unaware of one's self?

If it were just one incident I wouldn't worry too much but I find myself telling my lovely assistant almost every morning how disconnected or uneasy I feel that day.
How many days in a row can you confess this out loud before it becomes who you are?

I want my steady feet, strong hands, deliberate mind and keen peripheral senses back.
The bruising is really starting to hurt.