funny

When Did I Move Back to Wisconsin?

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Colorado weather can be very different than most places.  We never know what is coming over the mountains or which way it is going to flow.  I have built up a pretty good sense of when to plant our starts and when to put in seeds, but not this year. It’s been a mess in more ways than one.

I am used to wet Marches, wild weather ups-and-downs in April, and then “get-it-in” Mays.  This year has been snow, winds, wet and wet, and WET.  I swear I am back in Wisconsin, and I didn’t know I was planning on a move? 

IT’S GREEN!

Yes, Colorado does get green in the spring, but it is usually the fields, gardens, and lawns that get irrigation that the green appears.  This year I am hard-pressed to find a non-green spot.  We are supposed to be a higher altitude, arid, and much drier area – WHAT HAPPENED?  I blame it on climate change since that has been messing up tons of places over the last several years. It’s either that or Mother Nature is really pissed off at us now.  Even our poor crop farmers have had a hell of a time just trying to plant their typical fields.  Everything is mud!  FYI, tractors and mud do NOT mix.

Since our greenhouse lost its cover from the tornado, the plots have been susceptible to the weather, and right now, it’s a forest.  We even have a ground cover base under all our plots, but the grasses and weeds have gotten too much rain support to slow down.  Now the wonderful world of weather is telling us to expect close to 90degrees this Saturday.  SATURDAY?  With 80s in between.  Great.  Put some majorly intense sun and heat onto those already crazy weeds and grasses, and it will be time to dig out mazes to find the plots.

Oh, and part of my job during all this moisture was to figure out where all the leaks are in our buildings, then try to plug them – hahaha.  It was easy to see where it was leaking, but not so easy to find a dry day to get out (or on top) and fix them.  Now that we will have drier weather, I have become a hurry up and get it done Lady.  Sure.  Two fake knees, 1-1/2 fake shoulders, one fake foot, ½ an index finger, and osteoarthritis up the wazoo – YOU GO GIRL!  Not!  If anyone tries to tell me that my joints don’t feel the changes in the weather, I will pop them in the nose. 

This old body got used to the dry, arid, comfortability of our beautiful Colorado.  Now every step I take and every move I make has a corresponding snap, crackle, or pop to it.  Oh, and let’s not discuss the getting down and trying to get back up again situation (yes, my dear friends who have seen me do this in action, you may laugh hysterically now), shall we.

So Wisconsin, you can have your floody spring back.  I want my dryer Colorado and I am not willing to compromise!

I am leaving you in this post with a perfect picture that my cousin sent me.  It totally sums up this spring for me:

You can also check me out at:  https://lifelessonslived.com/ for all the fun things I have learned in life.

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I CUT HER LOOSE – LOOK OUT!

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This last weekend I finally cut my sister loose and let her play in the dirt.  There are two big things in her life that bring her great joy:

  1. Playing in the kitchen because she has a passion for cooking.  
  2. Playing in the dirt, in this case it is starting seeds. 

I brought all the grow lights, heat pads, and various other seed starting items up from the shed.  It took her about two days to get “her” areas set up.  Yes, they are “her” areas as it is her job to do the starts.  My task now is to design all the plot areas on our little farm and what will go in where.

If you think about it I got shafted in this deal.  All her job is done in the house and in just 2 places:

  • Her porch (it is hers because that is where she can smoke and contemplate life issues).
  • Her kitchen (yes, I can cook in there too, but it is mostly just warming stuff for me).

I am better with the computer than she is, so I created some charts.  The first is centered around seed starting and maintaining the starts until transplant time – this is Spring.  The second I labeled Summer.  This will be my turn to track things.  It will have when and where I put in the transplants.  It will also have all my direct sowing information. 

This will be the first year in many, many years that we actually have some kind of handle on our gardens.  Too many disasters have stretched out too long for us to properly concentrate on the gardens.  The only bummer is that my body is only a fraction of what it was 10+ years ago.  Simple things like getting down on the ground (my favorite place to work on plots) and getting back up again take enormous effort.  Fake knee and shoulder joints, massive surgeries for my major joints, and replacement parts add to my dismay.  You would think they could come up with something like the Bionic Woman for replacement parts by now?

Yes youngsters, that was a real TV series, and yes oldsters, I watched it.

What a wonder it would be if I could just pull weeds stronger, faster.  I could pull my garden carts without major issues.  Best of all, I could get down on the ground and back up again, without looking like a Flamingo on ice (not a pretty sight but very funny to watch – oh, and don’t get me laughing or I will NEVER get up!).

My major task over the last 20 years is to make life easier and not harder.  So why does life want to throw a wrench into my ideas every time I turn around?  She is so wicked that way.  Wish me luck on my endeavors this year.  Maybe we will finally have a great fall harvest.  I will let you know how it goes.

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A JACK?

/ helbergfarmstories / 5 Comments

I wonder if it will ever stop?  I know that the state (or county) put a sign on east-bound I-76 just before our exit that states “services next exit “, but it is wrong-sort of.

Yes, there are the services listed, however; when you get to the bottom of the off-ramp (which just happens to be right by our little farm), there is nothing to tell anyone just where to go for those services.  It is another three miles to those services.  Oh, and at the bottom of the off ramp, there is nothing telling them which direction to turn!

This has been a problem for us since the day we moved onto the farm (over 20 years ago now).  I swear, everybody and their brother has to ask us something – or for something:

  • “Can you tell me where such-and-such is?”
  • “I ran out of gas, do you by chance have any to help me get to a gas station?”
  • “Can you tell me where the nearest gas station is?”

Those three questions are the most asked, but we also have some real beauties that have happened:

  • An elderly couple in a big, beautiful Caddy pulled into our driveway.  The man got out and rang our doorbell.  “I am sorry to bother you,” he said, “ but my wife really needs to use a bathroom.  Could she possibly use yours?”  Yes, we said yes.
  • While enjoying our Friday night cocktails one comfortable summer evening, we watched a Motorcyclist come down the off-ramp.  A pretty standard practice there as tons of Cyclists have done it in the past and continue to do so today.  This one was a bit different.  He got off the bike (which was not small by a long shot), pulled out his cane, and proceeded to step back to stretch his legs.  That’s when it happened. Just as he stepped clear of the motorcycle, it fell over.  He tried to catch it but it was obviously more than he could possibly handle. We got up from our comfortable porch chairs, walked across the highway over to him at the off ramp, and proceeded to lift his motorcycle back up for him.  He thanked us endlessly and even offered us money (we declined) and said he was just on his way back to Denver from Sturgis (he went to the bike rally up there) and just needed a bit of a break.  We kindly suggested he may want to look into getting a tric (tricycle motorcycle).  We all had a nice laugh and he went on his way.

It should also be noted that I am a mom that became a very light sleeper when I had my child.  I have never been able to sleep long or sound for a full eight-hours after I had her possibly because she was born with a disability, possibly just because it is a mom thing?  This last Friday proved, once again, that it is a very good thing.

It was around 11:30 p.m. Friday night, and the dogs started barking weirdly.  They have several types of bark, but there is one that signals there is something really strange outside.  This bark was one of those types.

They woke me and I went to the windows to see what was up.  Then I saw the vehicle lights which were aimed at our vehicles.  Definitely not a good sign!

There are several reasons people with vehicles are in front of our home in the middle of the night:

  1. Gotta pee.  This is by-far the biggest reason.
  2. Dog has got to pee. 
  3. Check directions.  Since the road signs do not clearly tell drivers where to go, they will drive by several times, stop, review maps or GPS and then figure it out.
  4. Change drivers because the current one is starting to drift off.

But, I have to say, this one was a first:

  • As I was walking toward the widow where our vehicles are parked, I could see the top of someone’s head bobbing toward our door.  The window was open because the night was cool and I leaned over and yelled out, “What do you want?”  The poor kid jumped a foot! (Ok, I have to be honest and say that this made me laugh-internally- even though I was mad for the middle of the night disturbance.)  He then proceeded to apologize profusely for the intrusion, but he/they had a bad flat tire.  He asked if I had a jack.  My first reflex action was “NO!!”  I told him there was a garage just on the other side of the overpass and he could go there.  (I knew full well that they were not open after 5p.m. any day, so the kid(s) would have to wait till morning.  Serves them right for bugging me in the middle of the night!)  After several more minutes of begging, offering the $20 he had for my trouble, and swearing he was not up to something bad; the mom in me gave in.  I told him to pull in by my car and I went out to help.  The tire was shredded so they must have been riding on it for a while. I got the jack out of my car, they proceeded to replace the tire and then the little fart offered the $20 again.  I said no and then he asked if it was OK to give me a hug?  He was going to visit he grandparents and I remined him of them.  I caved in and then wished them a safe trip.  Through all of this my sister, who fell asleep on the couch, did not budge – JERK!

I shared the story with my sister and we both laughed.  Then she said was that she was proud I tried to not help them as we have sworn to each other to quit doing it.  We have had too many bad experiences with strangers in the last 10 years and are trying to quit being so nice.  The problem is, we were not raised that way.  Our parents raised us with do unto others and help those that cannot help themselves growing up so its embedded in our D.N.A.

I guess that with the state of things in the U.S. right now, maybe this little act of kindness is good thing and possibly even appreciated?  A jack?  In the middle of the night?  Man, I have gotten soft!

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MASHED POTATOES DO NOT STICK.

/ helbergfarmstories / 1 Comment

A dear friend reminded me of how much fun doing housework can be.  The following story is true from my past days growing up on the farm.

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Our father was way too trusting.  He believed that when he told his young daughters to do something simple like clean up the kitchen after dinner would be done without any issues.  Wrong!

Dad loved to cook but hated to clean.  This was fantastic for mom as she was just the opposite.  With parents that handled these specific chores in such a manner, what were two mischievous daughters to do?

  • Put leftover foods away.
  • Do the dishes.
  • Clean up the area.

Simple right?  Nope.  My sister and I are, even to this day, well known for never doing the simple ways.  We usually do things in a round-about way or come up with a better way a couple of years after-the-fact.  Cleaning up was perhaps where this whole issue started.

We had a very fun childhood, and our parents encouraged us every step of the way.  This was maybe not such a good idea.  Dad made dinner, which consisted of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.  Our father came from a big family, so he consistently made too much for us to eat in one sitting.  When he very innocently to clean up the kitchen, I don’t think he was even close to being prepared for our idea of “clean up.”

It all started out the right way, put the extra food into containers (Mom was very proud of her Tupperware) then put it into the fridge.  Fill up the sinks with dishwater on one side and clean rinse water on the other.  Put the dirty dishes (after emptying them) into the dishwater.  One daughter washes and rinses, the other dries and puts the dishes away.  Once again, very simple, right?

The whole concept came to a screeching halt when my younger sister decided that mashed potatoes were a lot like clay or playdough (we had lots of arts and crafts stuff – mom’s idea to turn us into creative wizzes).  Yep – it molded into a ball beautifully when cupped in 7-year old hands.

ball mashed potatoes

It was only a matter of time before we were tossing it back and forth like you would with a ball in a game of catch.  Our game of catch turned into dodge ball.  I don’t know exactly when it happened, but somehow one of our throws ended up on the ceiling. – WOW – MASHED POTATOES STICK TO THE CEILING!

We got so squirrely excited and made the mistake of giggling.  Dad finally noticed our noises and called out from the living room (his after-dinner routine: Nightly news from his comfy recliner.),

“What are you two doing?”

To which we so innocently replied: “Nothing.”  We calmed down, and he did not bother to come to check on us.  Awesome!

LET THE STICKING BEGIN.

  1. Scoop up a nice hand full of mashed potatoes.
  2. Roll them around in your hands until they form a smooth tight consistency.
  3. Locate an easy-to-fling spot on the floor with a clear aim to the ceiling.
  4. Squat down a bit with your hand holding the potato ball hanging between your knees.
  5. Tighten your shoulder and flex your arm muscles to get an intense action.
  6. Then let-er-go!

OUTSTANDING!  The balls of mashed potatoes stuck on the ceiling.  The downside – not for very long.  We found that when we flung them up there, they would stick, but due to the butter used in making them, they slowly eeked loose from the ceiling and fell to the floor.  Then the next game became trying to catch them when they fall.

After about an hour of this (personally, I just think the news was over and he finally really heard us), dad decided to get up and see just what we were up to.

We were having so much fun that we never noticed just how many mashed potato balls were on the ceiling or floor, nor did we have any dishes done.  On our behalf, the food was all put away (except the game ball goo), and the kitchen was clean – for the most part.

Dad stepped through the arch and into the kitchen just in time to see us both throwing up our next ball.  He screeched out a: “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?”, making both of us jump to attention and immediately stop laughing.

He proceeded to reprimand us and give us follow-up instructions to get things back in order.  We heard none of it.  We both caught the fact that there was a stuck ball on the ceiling just above his head, slowly preparing to fall.  All we could do was stare at his face.  I am sure he thought we were finally being good little girls and listening close to follow his every command.  Nope, we were just waiting – quietly.

Then it happened.

The mashed potato ball above his head finally lost its grip and flopped right on top of his head.

ball to the head

It should be noted that our father was a stellar father.  He never raised a hand to his children (that was mom’s job, and she was delighted to be the Executioner) and that in most circumstances, he acted more like a kid than we did.  This, at first, was not one of those times.  He never saw it coming even though he did see dozens of residual oil spots on the ceiling.  It never dawned on him to look up before standing in a place.

We poor well-behaved children could not hold back any longer.  The laughter exploded from us to the point of rolling around on the floor and holding tight to our little tummies that ached with laughter muscle overload.

ball laughter

Initially, dad was furious (you could see it in his eyes) but, either it was the fact that it caught him by surprise, or seeing us rolling on the floor in explosions of laughter, he also could not hold back his funny bone anymore.  He burst out in laughter along with us.

Once we all calmed down a bit, he made sure we finished cleaning the rest of the kitchen up.  The unfortunate mashed potatoes that had brought so much joy were dispensed to the critter bucket (all foods that we did not reuse were given to the critters unless it was compostable.  The compostable foods went into the garden.) never to be flung again.  So sad.

I don’t know how he did it, but after we went to bed, he managed to get all the greasy ball marks off the ceiling before mom got home.  If he had not told her about our escapades, she would have never known.  Personally, I think he was so proud of our ingenuity, that he was just bursting to tell someone.  Mom just happened to be the first person he met.

Now that I have shared one of our most favored family memories feel free to try it with our own children.  The world is full of scary stuff – why not throw in a few mashed potatoes.

You can also check me out at:  https://lifelessonslived.com/ for all the fun things I have learned in life.

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Cutting the Cord is Fun and Funny.

/ helbergfarmstories / 5 Comments

Those of you that do not know, “Cutting the Cord” is the term for getting rid of expensive cable T.V.  We did this a little over two years ago now and love every minute of it.

We spend our days mainly doing farm work, gardening, and crafting (for my sister is it baking more than crafting – that is where her O.C.D. stems), so when it comes to watching T.V., we don’t need a ton of junk we don’t watch.  The cost for all that junk just kept going up and up every year, and we said enough!

I decided to bring up this little post today because I happen to be watching one of my favorite movies:

OUTBREAK:     Outbreak

The next one I am watching is:

BIRD BOX:      Bird Box

Instead of cable (and it’s huge bill), we have freebies – Pluto and Tubi – and we decided to buy into Netflix (only $12.99 per month, we can live with that).  We bought into Amazon Prime ages ago for good shipping and deals (we do love to shop online), and as of last year, we have some great things to watch on there too.  We missed our British channels/shows, so we do spend $5.99 per month extra through Prime to watch what they call “Britbox.” This has all kinds of different T.V. series and movies you could normally (sometimes) catch on PBS or specials.  This last month we added Boomerang (also through Prime) for an extra $7.47 per month.  Now we are actually paying to watch what we want to watch without all the extra B.S. that we never watch.

The interesting thing I am trying to get to here is that the freebie channels load what they choose.  I am sure there is some method to their madness, but I have no clue what that may be.  I did find it funny that, with all the hype about the Coronavirus going around, Pluto chooses to feature the movie Outbreak.

I know that the Coronavirus is serious, but when is any type of flu not serious?  Every year we seem to go through some kind of major something – cold – flu – airborne something.  Maybe, it is because I am older and have been through a lot in my life, but I don’t panic on any of this anymore.  Every year we take the same precautions:

  • Get shots if available (my sister does, I do not because I had always gotten sicker when I did)
  • Wash hands constantly. This is just a standard procedure for us anymore.
  • We can’t afford to travel abroad, so then we just watch out for friends/family that do.
  • Knowledge is power – this is my biggie! The more we know about anything, the better prepared we are to handle it.

We don’t consider ourselves preppers, but we like to be prepared.  I don’t believe that you should ignore the required shots that our ancestors lived and died to develop for our protection and the protection of our young (hello California – mumps??  That had died out when I was a kid in the 1960s.).

Meales 1    Measles 2 (Measles)

Bird flu, swine flu, Asian Flu – hell, why not just call it “flu” because they are all the same basic stuff.  Yes, we need to know and understand where they originate so we can work to fight them, but they will always be a part of human life.  The grand delusions created in things like Star-Trek are wonderful, but so not in our cards (at least not for centuries yet.).

star trek shots

There will always be something, always be those to help fight it, sometimes a cure will be found, sometimes not.  I choose not to hide under a rock, and I choose to live my life as fully as possible.  I will continue to:

  • Garden
  • Craft
  • Knit and Crochet
  • Read
  • Write
  • Play
  • Sing
  • Paint and Draw
  • Above all, Live and Laugh.

I know that some people will watch Outbreak or Birdbox and freak out.  That is sad because they are just movies.  I think we would be closer to The Day After Tomorrow if anything were to change.  Once again, that is just my opinion.

So, in the meantime, I will continue to do the things that I enjoy.  I will continue to help those that I can.  I will continue to laugh, as often and as much, as possible.  Maybe it is just because I Partied like it’s 1999 – in 1999.  (Wow, what that a great New Year’s Eve party!)

party 1999 1   party 1999 2

You can also check me out at:  https://lifelessonslived.com/ for all the fun things I have learned in life.

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I COME FROM A FAMILY OF BULLHEADS.

/ helbergfarmstories / 7 Comments

No, I am not talking about the fish (although they are one of my favs when they are in-season).  I am talking about being stubborn.  Stubborn to the point of sinking your heels into the dirt, and not giving up till hell freezes over.

bullhead fish

We finally had a couple of days of true February weather – but not enough.  This has brought out my bullhead side.  I am determined to have good gardens this year (not great, just good, and I will be happy) no matter what life throws at us.

I have given myself three main goals for this year:

  1. Continue to take my online learning classes and write more (and better, I hope).
  2. Get the gardens all back in order again.
  3. BE HAPPY.

I have a passion for a lot of things, crafting, writing, gardening, to name a few, but do not feel as if I am a professional at any one thing.  I hope that by the end of this year, I will feel like a pro at least one of my passions.

OCD crafting

The gardens have been a mess since the year of the fire (2014).  When the fire happened, I also had a severe infection in my left-hand index finger (from a cut on the job), which became Mersa.  In the course of taking care of the finger, my Surgeon discovered I have severe osteoarthritis (why is it never just “1” thing with me?).  The gardens got neglected because of all that mess, and my depression (yep that has been severe since the fire also) just took over and made me feel defeated before I even began on all our gardens.  Well, baby, my bullhead is back and in full force!

The last of my three is be happy, which has seemed to elude me.  I have moments of happiness, it’s just not been an on-going feeling of joy until now.  Not sure what has changed (except my new moon according to my Astrological sign), but I am feeling more empowered.  This is a great thing for me because it has been sorely missed over that last five years.

So, gardens beware!  I am on my bullheadedness (is this a word?) and plan on using it – grr!

HAPPY GARDENING!

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FYI:  One of the Bloggers I follow is called Better Hens & Gardens, and they have been kind enough to post an easy-to-understand article about the difference between seed types (Heirloom vs. GMO vs. GE, etc.), and I found it a great read to share – she here it is if you would like clear-cut information:

GARDEN SEEDS – GE, GMO, HEIRLOOM – WHAT’S IT MEAN?

I hope that if you are planning a garden this year for feeding your family, you will take a moment and read their helpful information.

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COLORADO WINDS SONG – humor.

/ helbergfarmstories / 3 Comments

PLEASE READ TO THE TUNE OF CAMP TOWN RACERS – DO DAH.

Colorado has some winds, do dah, do dah.

Never can tell just what’s comin in, oh da do da, do day.

Gonna blow all night.

Gonna blow all day.

One of these days it’ll take us away, oh da do da day.

Half the barn roof blew away, do dah, do da.

Flying birds can’t seem to stay, oh da do da, day.

Roofing gone at night.

Shingles gone at day.

Farm truck up and floats away, oh da do da day.

Coldest ones blow in a freeze, do dah, do dah.

Hottest won’t at a hundred degrees, oh da do da, day.

Ice is on my face.

Sweat is in my eyes.

Our chickens live in Kansas now. Oh, da do da day.

cow in twister windy lady

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ALL RIGHT, What Are You Trying To Tell Me?

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Apparently, I am going to have to have a talk with my house critters AGAIN!  I don’t know if it is because I am a farm girl, because I love critters, or because I instinctively watch nature, but something is trying to tell me something.

This time every year we get critters in the house:

  • Ladybugs
  • Spiders
  • Mice
  • An occasional snake (yep – actually the cat brought it in, but it was just a baby snake – eek!)

We know the routine of the mice (have not found their entry point yet – grr!), and traps work perfectly according to the barn cats (they get the snapped goodies).

cat w mouse

Ladybugs only come in every few years, and they usually bunch in the corner of the ceiling.  The weird part is they disappear after about a month, and not a single body is found anywhere in the house??  By the time they disappear, it is very cold and/or snowy outside, so I am sure they do not go back out – so where is their “panic” room? The issue this year is my spiders.

Now I really thought my spiders and I had a pretty good understanding:

“Stay on the ceiling, up out of reach, and you live.  Get down to my feet, and you die.”

Simple, easy to understand, a beneficial agreement that has been adhered to for almost a decade now.  At least that was until about October of this year.  I have been killing (just by stepping on) at least five spiders per week since about the first of October.  WHAT THE HECK??  They are in our home year-round but understand that their place is on the ceiling and up in the skylight.  Why are they all down at my feet?  Do they all have a death wish now?

Most of the above pics are small spiders.  The Garden (Orb – the one with the yellow stripe legs) spider is bigger and usually hangs out in the barn or greenhouse, basically an outside critter just like the Crab spider (the one with the pointy back that looks like a shell).  The other three, along with the Daddy Long Legs are found in our home.

I started this post in early October.  It is now the 20th of November, and I have still been finding at least 3-5 per week down at my level for a death sentence.  This one I almost stepped on BARE FOOTED this morning heading to the bathroom:

wind spider 11-20-19 (the front mandibles are barely visible but look for the darker brown tips to see how long they are)

I can’t stand these guys!  They are not native to Colorado and do not like the cold (it will die in the cold or, as I found, in too much water).  They are called Wind Scorpion Spiders, and we have been told that they most likely came in on military gear coming back from a very dry desert climate.  THEY DO NOT BITE HUMANS, which was the first thing we had looked into.  Never-the-less I just can’t stand looking at them.  This one is normal size – about the size of a half-dollar (that’s with leg and mandible reach).  I even prefer the garden spider to this thing, maybe because it does not look like a spider to me. (Got to tell you I am creeping myself out right now – yuck!!)

I have seen a Wolf spider too up-close and personal for my liking, so I know about them.  Black Widows were in the pine bushes in my home in Denver, so I know what they look like and where to watch for them.  I was bitten by a Brown Recluse, so I am extremely wary of them.  But none of those freak me out like the Wind Scorpion – not sure exactly why?

The simple fact is that too many spiders have shown up not just in the house, but specifically downstairs (my turf) and at my stomping level.  This is not the norm and not in our agreement!  I am pretty sure they are all trying to tell me something about the environment, but my spider-eeze is not working very well this year.

So, for now, I will continue my daily discussions with the general household insect staff about the house rules and how to avoid death.  I hope that they will all just settle down in the fact that I do not have their natural instincts regarding the ecosystem, I cannot speak their language, and I will have to deal with whatever good Ole Mom Nature decides to throw at us.  Wish me luck!

nice mom nature         grumpy me

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You Just Gotta Love This One!

/ helbergfarmstories / 2 Comments

This is my “short and sweet” for today.

Predictions of any kind intrigue me.  Old wives tales, folklore, you name it, and I love to read up on it.  My latest e-newsletter from Farmer’s Almanac is one I have not heard before:

Like Snow? Count The Number of Fogs!

by Farmers’ Almanac Staff | Posted In: Weather, Featured

fog

We have had one heavy fog morning this first week of August, so I will try to keep track of this whole concept and see how we do over the next 6-8 months.

I have to admit that I also love the fog, the rain, and a great thunderstorm.

We have been breaking some heat records over the last few weeks, so it will be really interesting to see what cooks up this winter.  Perhaps it’s time to break out the long underwear?

long underwear  (Ooo – I want a pair with duck feet – hee hee)

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SHHHHHHH, I Would Like To Talk About Hobbies and farming.

/ helbergfarmstories / 5 Comments

Yes, I wish to discuss this quietly.  There is a reason for this.  I am obsessed with my hobbies, and I believe that if I discuss this quietly, like a secret, that maybe my subconscious won’t kick in and go craft-crazy.

Sounds easy, but when your “to-do” list is as huge as mine, just a thought of having a moment to myself for hobby stuff is insane.  There is always something that MUST be done now, especially on a small farm like ours.

crazy face

Don’t get me wrong; I love the rural life.  I love the space, the gardens, the critters, and even the chores (a little less weeding would be nice).  But I also love my hobbies.  When it gets right down to it, I prefer my hobbies.  I can easily do them any time of the year, day or night.  I don’t have to wait for good weather, or a certain season to get things done.  The bummer is that they are still just “hobbies” and do not pay the bills (yet).

I have been taking some online classes (all freebies-yea!) to learn all I can about running a home crafts business.  I think I have boiled it down to one major problem – TIME.  I never have enough time to do what I want to vs. what I have to do:

  1. Every morning by 5 a.m. I have to start the watering cycle.
  2. When it gets to be 90+degrees here, this must be done every day. We have some drip lines set up (in the corn & tomatoes mainly) which I can just turn on and let run for the allotted time.
  3. The rest is all hand watered. We have new, spring-planted, fruit trees which must get major watering every day right now.  I know it’s working because the “shock” part is over and new leaves have appeared (woohoo).
  4. Then, while it is still cool out, I work on weeding. EVERYTHING needs weeding this year – all the time it seems.  Normally we are not this wet so once weeded; an area would stay clear for a month, maybe the rest of the summer.  Not this year.  It was so moist and so cool this last spring, I swore I was back in upper Wisconsin.  I even have a 10’x10’ canopy that I can move around to help shade me while I weed.  It works great except that as soon as I move on to the next area, the last cleaned area starts to weed-up again – grr!

not that kind of weed (NO – not THAT kind of weed.)

If I had less weeding in the front yard,  and just concentrate on one major area each morning for about 2 hours (By then, it’s getting to be noon, and the wind dies – makes it awful to be outside because of biting black flies – hate them worse than mosquitoes. ); that would leave me time in the afternoon for my hobbies.

The only thing harder to do is decide which hobby I want to work on first:

  • Card Making
  • Beading
  • Embroidery
  • Knitting
  • Crochet
  • Sewing
  • Painting
  • Calligraphy
  • The list just goes on.

Oh well, tomorrow is another day, and another area to weed.  Perhaps a moment or several for one of my crafts?

Happy gardening – or hobbying!

You can also check me out at:  www.lifelessonslived.com for all the fun things I have learned in life.

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