Catherine Friend's Blog, page 11
March 1, 2011
Giving Away Books on Other Blog
Sigh. Not sure how I'v...
Giving Away Books on Other Blog
Sigh. Not sure how I've ended up with two blogs, one farm-related, the other-everything-else-related, but here I am. On my Inkslinger blog I'm giving away 3 books on writing for young adults, so if you're interested, head here: http://theinkslingerwrites.blogspot.com
I think I should do the same thing with my farming books, so stay tuned. Sometimes it's just good to clean out the bookshelves and get the books circulating. This is a new philosophy for me. For years I've clung to my books, considering each one too precious to give up.
But one house really can't hold nearly 1,000 books comfortably, so it's time.
I wonder if Melissa will let go of the The Teach Your Chicken to Fly Training Manual.
It's a classic.
Sigh. Not sure how I've ended up with two blogs, one farm-related, the other-everything-else-related, but here I am. On my Inkslinger blog I'm giving away 3 books on writing for young adults, so if you're interested, head here: http://theinkslingerwrites.blogspot.com
I think I should do the same thing with my farming books, so stay tuned. Sometimes it's just good to clean out the bookshelves and get the books circulating. This is a new philosophy for me. For years I've clung to my books, considering each one too precious to give up.
But one house really can't hold nearly 1,000 books comfortably, so it's time.
I wonder if Melissa will let go of the The Teach Your Chicken to Fly Training Manual.
It's a classic.
Giving Away Books on Other BlogSigh. Not sure how I've en...
Giving Away Books on Other Blog
Sigh. Not sure how I've ended up with two blogs, one farm-related, the other-everything-else-related, but here I am. On my Inkslinger blog I'm giving away 3 books on writing for young adults, so if you're interested, head here: http://theinkslingerwrites.blogspot.com
I think I should do the same thing with my farming books, so stay tuned. Sometimes it's just good to clean out the bookshelves and get the books circulating. This is a new philosophy for me. For years I've clung to my books, considering each one too precious to give up.
But one house really can't hold nearly 1,000 books comfortably, so it's time.
I wonder if Melissa will let go of the The Teach Your Chicken to Fly Training Manual.
It's a classic.
Sigh. Not sure how I've ended up with two blogs, one farm-related, the other-everything-else-related, but here I am. On my Inkslinger blog I'm giving away 3 books on writing for young adults, so if you're interested, head here: http://theinkslingerwrites.blogspot.com
I think I should do the same thing with my farming books, so stay tuned. Sometimes it's just good to clean out the bookshelves and get the books circulating. This is a new philosophy for me. For years I've clung to my books, considering each one too precious to give up.
But one house really can't hold nearly 1,000 books comfortably, so it's time.
I wonder if Melissa will let go of the The Teach Your Chicken to Fly Training Manual.
It's a classic.
February 27, 2011
What I Don't ShareI've just spent many hours this weekend...
What I Don't Share
I've just spent many hours this weekend reading through the blogs people mentioned as a result of my previous post (Pimp your blog.) I tried to comment on each one (a few wouldn't accept my comments, so I had to give up.) On many blogs, I clicked through to other blogs, and found myself in yet another layer of amazing places.
This experience has left me in awe of people's lives, and how much you share of your family, passions, homes, animals, lives, and thoughts. It's been an eye-opener as to the range of topics and openness one can experience on a blog.
In this blog I share stories about our farm, which sometimes feels like too narrow a focus. As a result, there are many things that I don't share.
...I don't share how insecure I am as a writer, and how publishing 8 books in 6 years has wrecked havoc with my waistline. (It turns out a piece of soft bread slathered with butter is not a cure for insecurity.) I don't like that I'm insecure, but it doesn't go away, no matter how many books I've published. And, strangely enough, these extra 30 pounds aren't going away either.
...I don't share how hard it can be to maintain a long-term relationship. Every relationship has rough times, but these last few years there were moments when I thought the train was going to derail. To continue the metaphor, we thankfully are once again back on track.
...I don't share how hard it is for me to express my emotions, such as my deep gratitude to those people who read my books, who like them, and who take the time to tell me. (This helps a bit with the insecurity mentioned above.) Or how thankful I am that my life is filled with kind people, that I'm healthy, fairly sane, and am able to do what I love every day.
...I don't share that it's hard for me to hug strangers even though I'd like to. Perhaps I should consider that when someone has read your memoir and knows a great deal about you, they really aren't strangers. So should we ever meet, please don't hesitate to give me a hug... It'll be good for me.
I've just spent many hours this weekend reading through the blogs people mentioned as a result of my previous post (Pimp your blog.) I tried to comment on each one (a few wouldn't accept my comments, so I had to give up.) On many blogs, I clicked through to other blogs, and found myself in yet another layer of amazing places.
This experience has left me in awe of people's lives, and how much you share of your family, passions, homes, animals, lives, and thoughts. It's been an eye-opener as to the range of topics and openness one can experience on a blog.
In this blog I share stories about our farm, which sometimes feels like too narrow a focus. As a result, there are many things that I don't share.
...I don't share how insecure I am as a writer, and how publishing 8 books in 6 years has wrecked havoc with my waistline. (It turns out a piece of soft bread slathered with butter is not a cure for insecurity.) I don't like that I'm insecure, but it doesn't go away, no matter how many books I've published. And, strangely enough, these extra 30 pounds aren't going away either.
...I don't share how hard it can be to maintain a long-term relationship. Every relationship has rough times, but these last few years there were moments when I thought the train was going to derail. To continue the metaphor, we thankfully are once again back on track.
...I don't share how hard it is for me to express my emotions, such as my deep gratitude to those people who read my books, who like them, and who take the time to tell me. (This helps a bit with the insecurity mentioned above.) Or how thankful I am that my life is filled with kind people, that I'm healthy, fairly sane, and am able to do what I love every day.
...I don't share that it's hard for me to hug strangers even though I'd like to. Perhaps I should consider that when someone has read your memoir and knows a great deal about you, they really aren't strangers. So should we ever meet, please don't hesitate to give me a hug... It'll be good for me.
February 23, 2011
Pimp Your Blogs (Farm or otherwise)!I've decided it would...
Pimp Your Blogs (Farm or otherwise)!
I've decided it would be a good idea to step back and let my blog readers share their blogs and websites. List your blog in a comment. If you don't have a blog, share your favorite blog---doesn't have to be farm related. It could be fiber or life or writing or whatever.
I'll go first. I have this blog (obviously), but I also have a blog that I've started up again called The Inkslinger. It's about writing and books and publishing...and I'm sure it will also be about not publishing, something every writer deals with. www.theinkslingerwrites.blogspot.com
Okay, don't be shy!
I've decided it would be a good idea to step back and let my blog readers share their blogs and websites. List your blog in a comment. If you don't have a blog, share your favorite blog---doesn't have to be farm related. It could be fiber or life or writing or whatever.
I'll go first. I have this blog (obviously), but I also have a blog that I've started up again called The Inkslinger. It's about writing and books and publishing...and I'm sure it will also be about not publishing, something every writer deals with. www.theinkslingerwrites.blogspot.com
Okay, don't be shy!
February 19, 2011
Life is back to normal......but 'normal' has changed. The...
Life is back to normal...
...but 'normal' has changed.
The Farmer has fully recovered from her neck surgery. She's getting physical therapy to tone up her neck, chest, back muscles, which went all weak during her recovery.
For over a month now, she's been back doing chores. But here's where 'normal' has changed. Every winter for the past 4-5 years, I've let Melissa do the chores every day. I stay inside, toasty warm by the wood stove. The winters, though, have been unbearably long.
This winter, after doing chores 55 days in a row (why can't I let that number go?) I realized that I sort of like it. I decided I didn't want to stop. So I do chores every third day, regardless of wind chill. And I've been snowshoeing every day until this blasted mid-winter warm-up, which has melted most of the snow and crusted what's left. I actually got a little weepy the other day because I couldn't snowshoe. (Perhaps I'd better up my hormone dosage! Crying because the snow is melting? That's crazy.)
The very odd thing is that this winter is flying by. I don't feel the same "OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO SCREAM IF SPRING DOESN"T COME RIGHT NOW" malaise that everyone else in MN feels mid-February.
I cannot tell you how bizarre this is for me. Is it doing chores? Is it snowshoeing?
Don't know. But obviously getting out into winter instead of cowering by the woodstove has altered my perspective. The farm's a bigger part of my life now. Winter's not something to just be endured, but also to be enjoyed.
And the good news?
Snow's coming tomorrow!
...but 'normal' has changed.
The Farmer has fully recovered from her neck surgery. She's getting physical therapy to tone up her neck, chest, back muscles, which went all weak during her recovery.
For over a month now, she's been back doing chores. But here's where 'normal' has changed. Every winter for the past 4-5 years, I've let Melissa do the chores every day. I stay inside, toasty warm by the wood stove. The winters, though, have been unbearably long.
This winter, after doing chores 55 days in a row (why can't I let that number go?) I realized that I sort of like it. I decided I didn't want to stop. So I do chores every third day, regardless of wind chill. And I've been snowshoeing every day until this blasted mid-winter warm-up, which has melted most of the snow and crusted what's left. I actually got a little weepy the other day because I couldn't snowshoe. (Perhaps I'd better up my hormone dosage! Crying because the snow is melting? That's crazy.)
The very odd thing is that this winter is flying by. I don't feel the same "OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO SCREAM IF SPRING DOESN"T COME RIGHT NOW" malaise that everyone else in MN feels mid-February.
I cannot tell you how bizarre this is for me. Is it doing chores? Is it snowshoeing?
Don't know. But obviously getting out into winter instead of cowering by the woodstove has altered my perspective. The farm's a bigger part of my life now. Winter's not something to just be endured, but also to be enjoyed.
And the good news?
Snow's coming tomorrow!
February 14, 2011
The Inkslinger Rides Again.After a year of rest, my writi...
The Inkslinger Rides Again.
After a year of rest, my writing/book/life blog, The Inkslinger, is back. (What does this mean? I'm beginning to recover from a wicked two years.) While I'll try to avoid cross-posting between this blog and the Inkslinger, I wanted to let everyone know. Here's the first post, in its entirety:
It's time for a new author photo. I really dislike this whole process because I'm not that comfortable in front of a camera. Because the photo is for my memoir, Sheepish, which is obviously about sheep, I thought it would be fun to get a few sheep into the photo.
It was a brisk late October afternoon when photographers Karen and Pattie tramped out to the pasture with me. The plan was to sprinkle some corn on the ground, thus attracting the sheep. The sheep would happily munch in the background, and I'd try to look relaxed as Karen snapped shot after shot.
I sprinkled the corn. I plopped down onto the ground.
But before I could even really get myself situated, one of the sheep---a tame one---wandered up. Hey, whatcha doing?
Before I could explain, she caught sight of the camera. Oooh, a photo of me? Lucky for you, all my sides are my best sides.
She then sent intense, sultry looks toward the camera. She tossed back a few locks of fleece. She turned to the left, then the right. She allowed me to snuggle up next to her, but only because it would make her look good. This sheep has clearly had some runway training.
Karen started snapping photos. The ewe and I chatted, but she only had eyes for that camera. I scratched her neck, kissed her nose, and whispered complimentary things in her ears. She loved it all, and stood in one place for an amazingly long time. Karen got a gazillion photos. Finally the ewe decided she was done sharing the limelight with me, so she wandered away, but tossed a 'follow me, let's ditch the farmer' look over her shoulder. Karen followed, and once I was out of the frame, the ewe stood still again for another gazillion photos.
We're always on the look-out for ways to make more money on the farm. I wonder if there's any money in getting this ewe her own facebook page, website, and circulating her 8x10 glossies to the modeling agencies.
Here's the final photo that will be on the back cover of Sheepish:
After a year of rest, my writing/book/life blog, The Inkslinger, is back. (What does this mean? I'm beginning to recover from a wicked two years.) While I'll try to avoid cross-posting between this blog and the Inkslinger, I wanted to let everyone know. Here's the first post, in its entirety:
It's time for a new author photo. I really dislike this whole process because I'm not that comfortable in front of a camera. Because the photo is for my memoir, Sheepish, which is obviously about sheep, I thought it would be fun to get a few sheep into the photo.
It was a brisk late October afternoon when photographers Karen and Pattie tramped out to the pasture with me. The plan was to sprinkle some corn on the ground, thus attracting the sheep. The sheep would happily munch in the background, and I'd try to look relaxed as Karen snapped shot after shot.
I sprinkled the corn. I plopped down onto the ground.
But before I could even really get myself situated, one of the sheep---a tame one---wandered up. Hey, whatcha doing?
Before I could explain, she caught sight of the camera. Oooh, a photo of me? Lucky for you, all my sides are my best sides.
She then sent intense, sultry looks toward the camera. She tossed back a few locks of fleece. She turned to the left, then the right. She allowed me to snuggle up next to her, but only because it would make her look good. This sheep has clearly had some runway training.
Karen started snapping photos. The ewe and I chatted, but she only had eyes for that camera. I scratched her neck, kissed her nose, and whispered complimentary things in her ears. She loved it all, and stood in one place for an amazingly long time. Karen got a gazillion photos. Finally the ewe decided she was done sharing the limelight with me, so she wandered away, but tossed a 'follow me, let's ditch the farmer' look over her shoulder. Karen followed, and once I was out of the frame, the ewe stood still again for another gazillion photos.
We're always on the look-out for ways to make more money on the farm. I wonder if there's any money in getting this ewe her own facebook page, website, and circulating her 8x10 glossies to the modeling agencies.
Here's the final photo that will be on the back cover of Sheepish:
February 9, 2011
What the Fashionable Farmer is Wearing...If it's 15 degre...
What the Fashionable Farmer is Wearing...
If it's 15 degrees or lower, one must start with wool camisole.
Then leggings, leg warmers, and hand-knit wool socks.
Two cotton shirts...
Oversized insulated Carhartt overalls, battered Carhartt coat, ugly red hat with ear flaps, and a red scarf, in a sad attempt to accessorize....
Earth boots---warm, comfortable, like wearing winter slippers...
Choppers---leather, with wool lining...
And when you put all of this together, here's the farmer, ready to go to work:
Just don't knock her over, 'cause she'll never be able to get back on her feet without help.
If it's 15 degrees or lower, one must start with wool camisole.
Then leggings, leg warmers, and hand-knit wool socks.
Two cotton shirts...
Oversized insulated Carhartt overalls, battered Carhartt coat, ugly red hat with ear flaps, and a red scarf, in a sad attempt to accessorize....
Earth boots---warm, comfortable, like wearing winter slippers...
Choppers---leather, with wool lining...
And when you put all of this together, here's the farmer, ready to go to work:
Just don't knock her over, 'cause she'll never be able to get back on her feet without help.
January 20, 2011
I Kissed a Llama and I Liked It...Well, okay, I didn't ac...
I Kissed a Llama and I Liked It...
Well, okay, I didn't actually kiss Zipper. But he was close enough I could have, unusual because our llamas aren't cuddly. They don't like being touched anywhere, and certainly not a kiss on the face.
Zipper makes feeding a challenge. It's like having to separate five-year-olds so they don't steal each others' cookies.
Tucker the llama is with the sheep, so he comes up and eats outside the pen that holds the steers and other llamas. Chachi the llama gets his own area because he's too timid to defend his food. (That's Tucker in the background.)
And Zipper must be locked up most of all, since he's the one who will steal everyone else's food.
Once the llamas are in their pens, I feed the steers. Imagine four massive necks stuck through a feeder panel, happily munching on corn. Here's what that looks like:
While I'm waiting for them to finish eating their corn, which they do with huge tongues that sweep the corn into their wide mouths, I'm standing in Zipper's pen. Only when the steers are finished can I let him out.
How does an old llama steal from four 500-pound steers? He comes barreling out his pen and aims for those four necks. He plows right into the necks with such force each steer jumps back, alarmed. This leaves Zipper with total access to the corn left in the feed trough.
So I lock up Zipper and feed him separately.
The other morning I'm standing in his pen watching the steer eat when suddenly there is a soft hum in my ear... I mean right in my ear.
I turn my head slightly and Zipper is practically laying his head on my shoulder. All I'd have to do is pooch out my lips a bit, and I could kiss a llama.
He keeps humming. He sees the corn fast disappearing in those big slobbery mouths and it distresses him. He wants it. He hums louder, as if this will convince me to let him out.
Only when there are about 25 kernels left in the bin do I let Zipper out. He blasts from the pen, bashes into the thick steer necks, and then gobbles down those 25 kernels.
I'm not all that interested in kissing a llama---don't get me started on the hay breath---but if Katy Perry needs a new title for a song, she's welcome to use this blog's title.
Well, okay, I didn't actually kiss Zipper. But he was close enough I could have, unusual because our llamas aren't cuddly. They don't like being touched anywhere, and certainly not a kiss on the face.
Zipper makes feeding a challenge. It's like having to separate five-year-olds so they don't steal each others' cookies.
Tucker the llama is with the sheep, so he comes up and eats outside the pen that holds the steers and other llamas. Chachi the llama gets his own area because he's too timid to defend his food. (That's Tucker in the background.)
And Zipper must be locked up most of all, since he's the one who will steal everyone else's food.
Once the llamas are in their pens, I feed the steers. Imagine four massive necks stuck through a feeder panel, happily munching on corn. Here's what that looks like:
While I'm waiting for them to finish eating their corn, which they do with huge tongues that sweep the corn into their wide mouths, I'm standing in Zipper's pen. Only when the steers are finished can I let him out.
How does an old llama steal from four 500-pound steers? He comes barreling out his pen and aims for those four necks. He plows right into the necks with such force each steer jumps back, alarmed. This leaves Zipper with total access to the corn left in the feed trough.
So I lock up Zipper and feed him separately.
The other morning I'm standing in his pen watching the steer eat when suddenly there is a soft hum in my ear... I mean right in my ear.
I turn my head slightly and Zipper is practically laying his head on my shoulder. All I'd have to do is pooch out my lips a bit, and I could kiss a llama.
He keeps humming. He sees the corn fast disappearing in those big slobbery mouths and it distresses him. He wants it. He hums louder, as if this will convince me to let him out.
Only when there are about 25 kernels left in the bin do I let Zipper out. He blasts from the pen, bashes into the thick steer necks, and then gobbles down those 25 kernels.
I'm not all that interested in kissing a llama---don't get me started on the hay breath---but if Katy Perry needs a new title for a song, she's welcome to use this blog's title.
January 17, 2011
The Very Happy MonkeySheep make wool. Wool becomes yarn. ...
The Very Happy Monkey
Sheep make wool. Wool becomes yarn. And sometimes shepherds knit the yarn made from their sheep's wool.
It's weird, but I've become one of those shepherds....and I've become hooked on socks. Nothing fancy. Just plain socks.
But the other day I thought I should perhaps try something a little more challenging, so I found a sock pattern called the Monkey, designed by a woman named Cookie. You put the stitches on four needles, and then use a fifth needle to knit the stitches. Go all the way around the four needles and you've completed a row. This pattern has 11 rows, each different. When you've finished these 11 rows, then you repeat the pattern again (and again and again...)
This takes WAY more concentration than you'd think, so the sock has languished in its little bin. Knitting 11 rows in one sitting seemed like too much work. (I didn't want to stop midway and get confused about where I was in the pattern.)
But I want to make these socks because I'm using our yarn, this lovely turquoise. (Sadly, my camera hates turquoise. I don't know why.)
A few nights ago I had a great idea. Start a fire in the wood stove. Pour myself a glass of wine. Knit one row. Take a sip of wine. Knit another row, etc. etc. This should help me get through 11 rows every night.
So I did this. It was working! But, oddly enough, by only Row 6, I was feeling pretty fine. Alarmingly fine for just 6 sips of wine. And the glass was emptier than it should have been.
That's when I figured out I was taking a sip of wine after every needle, not every row. That's 24 sips of wine, not 6.
Lest anyone worry, I was still able to manipulate the needles without harming myself, so things weren't too bad. And my ploy worked, for in five nights I finished that part of the sock....
But I think I should rename the pattern the Very Happy Monkey...or maybe the Almost-Drunken-Monkey.
Sheep make wool. Wool becomes yarn. And sometimes shepherds knit the yarn made from their sheep's wool.
It's weird, but I've become one of those shepherds....and I've become hooked on socks. Nothing fancy. Just plain socks.
But the other day I thought I should perhaps try something a little more challenging, so I found a sock pattern called the Monkey, designed by a woman named Cookie. You put the stitches on four needles, and then use a fifth needle to knit the stitches. Go all the way around the four needles and you've completed a row. This pattern has 11 rows, each different. When you've finished these 11 rows, then you repeat the pattern again (and again and again...)
This takes WAY more concentration than you'd think, so the sock has languished in its little bin. Knitting 11 rows in one sitting seemed like too much work. (I didn't want to stop midway and get confused about where I was in the pattern.)
But I want to make these socks because I'm using our yarn, this lovely turquoise. (Sadly, my camera hates turquoise. I don't know why.)
A few nights ago I had a great idea. Start a fire in the wood stove. Pour myself a glass of wine. Knit one row. Take a sip of wine. Knit another row, etc. etc. This should help me get through 11 rows every night.
So I did this. It was working! But, oddly enough, by only Row 6, I was feeling pretty fine. Alarmingly fine for just 6 sips of wine. And the glass was emptier than it should have been.
That's when I figured out I was taking a sip of wine after every needle, not every row. That's 24 sips of wine, not 6.
Lest anyone worry, I was still able to manipulate the needles without harming myself, so things weren't too bad. And my ploy worked, for in five nights I finished that part of the sock....
But I think I should rename the pattern the Very Happy Monkey...or maybe the Almost-Drunken-Monkey.
January 8, 2011
A Farmer's WalkerFarmers like to trick out their equipmen...
A Farmer's Walker
Farmers like to trick out their equipment. Melissa's four-wheeler has a front basket loaded with holders for clippers, a hammer, screwdrivers, and alligator clips for the electric fence. She has rolls of marking tape and a bottle of water and a spot for her chain saw.
So when she came home from the hospital Thanksgiving Day, the proud new owner of a walker, I knew it'd wouldn't be long.
Sure enough, she spent the first two weeks trickin' out the walker. I kept telling her she'd be done using it before she got it all set up just the way she wanted it---basket for papers and books, holder for markers, pens, a small scissors, and a magnifying glass for studying the fossils she finds in the creek, trash bag, her cell phone/headset, a cup holder, and her MP3 player. It's like a rolling office.
But she wasn't done. Next were the flames and cartoons:
At first she just used the walker in the house, but as cabin fever set in, she used it to walk the dogs down to the mailbox.
She just had her six-week checkup, and all looks great. The screws and cables holding her three vertebrae in place are still aligned correctly and the bone grafts are looking great. She's supposed to start taking the neck brace off a few hours a day to start conditioning her neck muscles---they haven't had to hold up her head for quite some time. Then comes physical therapy, and then comes me transitioning from Head Farmer to my proper place as Back-Up Farmer.
Won't happen for another month, but that's okay. The animals and I have our routine down now, and things go pretty smoothly. As the cattle and llamas are eating their grain, I stand in the sun, waiting for the water trough to fill, and think, "Hey, look at me. I'm a farmer." Happy 2011!
Farmers like to trick out their equipment. Melissa's four-wheeler has a front basket loaded with holders for clippers, a hammer, screwdrivers, and alligator clips for the electric fence. She has rolls of marking tape and a bottle of water and a spot for her chain saw.
So when she came home from the hospital Thanksgiving Day, the proud new owner of a walker, I knew it'd wouldn't be long.
Sure enough, she spent the first two weeks trickin' out the walker. I kept telling her she'd be done using it before she got it all set up just the way she wanted it---basket for papers and books, holder for markers, pens, a small scissors, and a magnifying glass for studying the fossils she finds in the creek, trash bag, her cell phone/headset, a cup holder, and her MP3 player. It's like a rolling office.
But she wasn't done. Next were the flames and cartoons:
At first she just used the walker in the house, but as cabin fever set in, she used it to walk the dogs down to the mailbox.
She just had her six-week checkup, and all looks great. The screws and cables holding her three vertebrae in place are still aligned correctly and the bone grafts are looking great. She's supposed to start taking the neck brace off a few hours a day to start conditioning her neck muscles---they haven't had to hold up her head for quite some time. Then comes physical therapy, and then comes me transitioning from Head Farmer to my proper place as Back-Up Farmer.
Won't happen for another month, but that's okay. The animals and I have our routine down now, and things go pretty smoothly. As the cattle and llamas are eating their grain, I stand in the sun, waiting for the water trough to fill, and think, "Hey, look at me. I'm a farmer." Happy 2011!
