headed for one last stop and long-lasting Sweet Dreams


no more city street lights

fresh air! … green acres is the place for me

she’ll be coming ’round the corner when she comes
headed for one last stop and long-lasting Sweet Dreams


no more city street lights

fresh air! … green acres is the place for me

she’ll be coming ’round the corner when she comes
Cultivating your inner farmgirl?

Photo by Jacob Fowzer via Wikimedia Commons
Have a little fun with your friends and neighbors by throwing out a few old-fashioned farm phrases in casual—or, better yet, formal—conversation.
After all, if you’re going to walk the walk, you might as well talk the talk, right?
I guarantee that you’ll get a giggle from the puzzled expressions you receive in return.
Here are a few dandies to dabble with:
And, by all means, don’t skinny dip with snapping turtles!
While you’re on a roll, you can beef up your down-on-the-farm vocabulary with this glossary of farming terms.
My Sweet Dreams store on Jackson Street in my hometown of Moscow, Idaho, needed to move to make room for a parking lot. I kid you not. We owned the building but leased the land, and when our landlord passed away, the new owner wouldn’t budge in his decision to clear the entire block. But remember my post about doubling the size of my Coeur d’Alene store recently and the huge parking lot outside our door that’s being converted to a park? Win some, lose some. All the work we’d put into the grounds weren’t lost entirely. Every single bush, tree, bulb, and plant was lovingly dug up and replanted somewhere else. Our landscaping endeavors had won awards! Sigh.
And do you remember the colors from my Winnie the Pooh poster? Well, guess what? I had painted my little store the exact same colors. After trying to sell the building (backyard mother-in-law quarters anyone?), we decided to move it to the farm to occupy the spot where my Winnie the Pooh tree stood … without bees. A new kind of swarm was about to happen.

We readied a spot by cutting down our one tree and then pulling out a thicket of small plum trees with the tractor. We brought in truckloads of gravel and poured a concrete pad.
Here’s my SIL, Lucas, knee deep in the muck of it.

As each tree we pulled out with the tractor was then pulled down the road to our debris pile, my little farm was bathed in a dust storm.

Walker had a free pass to lounge the day away.

Remember my post on Saturday about hubby driving Lucille, our tractor, to town? I was elusive then and will be again today. Do stay tuned though. I’ll pull it all together in the end. But first, take note of the colors in this sign. I put this sign up a few years ago when my bees swarmed and took up residence in an ancient, almost rotten apple tree near where we park our cars at the farm. Okay, I thought. I won’t be able to harvest their honey, but a beehive in an apple tree sounds so right somehow.
But sadly, bears can’t read and a bear (or another critter with claws) did, in fact, raid and destroy most of the combs. The bees disappeared and never returned.

Fast forward a few years later when the sign, the tree, and the abandoned hive needed to come down. Why?


In an earlier post, I shared some pics from our trip to Lindsborg, Kansas. While there, we also toured a flour mill built in 1898 that, for a couple of days each year, is cleaned up and turned on! Amazing.
Below is an advertisement from The Lindsborg News-Record of the Old Mill announcing their annual event, Millfest.
They even dressed the part and gave us a fabulous tour of their mill.

It was especially exciting touring this mill because for the most part, it’s a carbon copy (well, inside at least) of my J.C. Barron Flour Mill, located in Oakesdale, Washington.