Good morning sunshine! … from the 20th floor of the historic St. Francis Hotel in San Francisco. Come on out and play the day away …
Julie Beck, 4th from right (okay, lefties, 5th from left), former farm employee, lives in San Francisco.
On Tuesday night, we took her and hubby, Doug, out to dinner, along with my daughter and her husband, Lucas. (I’m behind the lens.) The reason we were in San Fran, City of Charms, is yet another post I’m working on. Bedding. We were there for a meeting regarding my bedding line. Using pics I snapped, I’m going to walk you through the process, start to finish. Stay tuned for that!
Lucas, Doug, Julie, Meg
Mexican food. The best I’ve had.
And the street entertainment was upbeat. Five-gallon white buckets and gallon cans, along with a photo of the drummer getting a hug from Will Smith. (Darn GOOD stuff! The musician I mean. Will ain’t too shabby neither.)
Our newest addition to the farm is Alicia Baker who will be working here as a graphic designer. When her aunt found out she started work here, she found some of my fabric on Ebay and turned it into a proper farm purse. Welcome Alicia!
Come visit our little Sweet Dreams store in Moscow, Idaho, 425 S. Jackson, open noon to 6 pm.
Okay, grrrrls, who has a husband/significant other/life partner they adore but said pard-ner has more than one name? Here’s my dilemma.
Mine is a man of many talents, er, names. And if I’m going to do this here blog/journal thing, I can’t be all over the hunny bun map. Or can I? What do you think? This could be like, Where’s Waldo? or rather, What’s Nick?
There are well over 100 million personal blogs. Seriously. Where have I been? While I hammered away at books, put out a magazine, and ran a farm, I kept seeing something out of the corner of my eye.
Look what Kim brought back today from Kansas — our newest addition to our mini-Jersey family, Sally O’Mally.
Okay, all good things take time. But this one’s a doozey. My house/business burned down in 1996. With the help of some neighbors and volunteers (and our teenage children, who threatened to divorce us based on violation of child labor laws), we started to rebuild.
But the “house” in my head was really a commercial enterprise and BIG. Do you know anyone who builds a 12,000—square-foot commercial facility on cash flow? We’ve all heard of repossessed farms, so I went with …
Sometimes our grandgirls have not just one grandma at the farm, but two. Son-in-law Lucas, who works here, invited his parents, brother, and sister-in-law to join us for the weekend.
Of course, Gigi (grandmamma name for Patty), showed up in proper attire.
I admit it. At first, it struck me as weird too. But then I realized how going to the chicken coop to “steal” eggs seems somehow perfectly pastoral, right? And normal.
We reach under their soft feathery tummies, grab their eggs (especially if there isn’t a rooster around), and never feel a bit of guilt. After all, isn’t that what chickens are for?
Side story. (Okay, I drift at times….) We invited a schoolbus load of kindergartners, accompanied by several parents, to the farm this past spring. I walked out holding my pet chicken and …