Sunday, May 22, 2011

Where am I? oO, and a crepe recipe

In my last post I talked about missing farm-days.  All the things I love to do but have not had time for due to the season and my job wiping me out every day.  This past Saturday I was working and my stress levels got so bad that I was nearly doubled over with a stomach ache.  This is ridiculous.  I refuse to give in to stress.  It will kill you ya know?


So I'm fighting back.  I'm taking a stand against stress. Even if I'm dead tired at the end of my day I'm going to do something farm related.  Today I donned one of my home-made summer skirts and sat down for a lot of knitting.  Also to fight back, I'm going to continue renting every episode of Little House on the Prairie from Netflix and watch one at the end of every work day.  If by the end of one episode I'm not my farmgirl self again, then I'll watch two.

I've been thinking about my loom with the kind of longing that most women reserve for a lost love.  I've been looking at my spinning wheel with cow's eyes.  I'm stowing ripped curtains and old clothes to rip in to strips for weaving someday.  Though I've barely had the time my farmdays are never far from my thoughts.

I'm still trying to do some baking on Sundays as well.  Today I decided to make crepes.  Wicked easy and better than buying expensive wrap bread (though with eggs, flour and butter....maybe not so good for the cholesterol eh?).  Smothered in Nutella or used for sammiches they are the bomb.  And easy:

2 eggs beaten well
1cup milk
1 cup flour
2 tbsp butter, melted (but not super hot or it will curdle the eggs!)
1/2 tsp salt

Beat all together very well and let sit 30 minutes.  Melt a bit more butter and brush on a 6 to 10 inch frying pan or crepe pan on med/lo heat.  Pour in enough batter to completely cover the base of the pant (about 1/4 cup or more) then let cook until the top is dry.  Flip over and cook a few more minutes - a bit of golden brown on both sides is good.  Flip out on to waxed paper and put another layer of paper down for the next crepe.  I like mine thick so it make maybe 6 or 8 crepes.  Minus one with Nutella.....nom.

Give it a try, they're super easy.  Some I sprinkled with Italian seasoning for a more savory flavor.  Don't be afraid to experiment.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Farm days....I miss you!

So working 12 hour days during the busy season is not conducive to doing much more than coming home, flopping out on the couch and passing out.  If I'm lucky I wake up around 10 or 11 pm with just enough lucidity to change in to my jammies and fall in to bed......mentally tired from the stress of the day.

This is NOT the life.  Is there any wonder why I really want to move out on to a farm?  To motivate me to further my farmgirl ventures I put Little House on the Prairie at the top of my Netflix list.  Ahhhh......what a life.  Physically hard but mentally pleasing.  Hard but good.  When did we ever buy into easy being good?  Innovative is good.  Creative is good.  But easy just to save our sorry asses from having to get up off the couch is not at all good.  My ass can attest to's growing.  Like some cult sci-fi classic------gah!  The BLOB!

Alright, I might be exaggerating but you know exaggeration makes a much better story!!

So I have not been knitting.  I have not been:
Baking (well maybe a little which has added some to the 'blob' feature, n.v. good)
or anything else that reminds me that hey; I'm a farmgirl 'member me?

Instead I have been getting sucked in to the invariable hamster on the wheel bottle-necked life that means once you start you-don't-dare-stop-for-fear......wait fear?  Ok, that's it. 

That's where I draw the line_____________________________________________________

Who am I if I am not Fearless Farmgirl?  I should be fearlessly pummeling in to every obstacle mental and physical that could be preventing me from being who I think will be the best version of me (farmgirl for sure) but instead I am finding out that - hey wait a mintue- I'm my own worst enemy?  You betcher sweet bippie.

*Sigh* How many times do I have to learn the same lesson?  The operative word being 'learn'.  If a lesson is learned there is no need for it to be repeated.  Well I think the big guy upstairs is pretty sure I have yet to deal with my own worst enemy.


For every action that helps me feel I know who I am or who I am opening up to being - there is an equal and opposite reaction that scoots me in the direction of the person who is like everyone else in this stinkin' rat race.  There's a reason they call it a 'rat' race.  I don't know about you, but I don't want to be a rat.  But 5 days a week, in order to earn a paycheck, I have to be a rat.  Then I get to come clean on the weekends and be.....oh I don't know.....a salamander or something. 

Sorry, I like salamanders.  And they are indicators of a healthy ecosystem so totally fitting here.  Well eventually being a rat 5 days out of the week for 365 days a year begins to wear on you. 

It's tough.  Very tough to maintain a level above what this world wants you to sink to.  It's especially tough when your own family looks at you like you have 6 heads because you want to do something different even though you've been taking a different road from everyone else for your entire existence. 

What's the saying; Well behaved women rarely make history? 
Well sorry but I believe that it's possible to change the rat-in-to-one-salamander at a time.


It's late, and Mother's Day is nearly over but I couldn't let it pass by without a small tribute to my mom, who is currently in Canada....and who will probably not read this right away because of it.  But here goes....

Dear Mom,

Remember the time I cut my hair so short that you cried?  Remember the blue robin egg you placed in my palm that you found in the grass while mowing?  Remember my tears when I cracked it?  Remember the gigantic sunflowers in your garden you had to use an axe to cut down?  Remember when I ran away from my own birthday party because I thought I was in trouble for opening a present too soon?  Remember the field of California poppies we used to walk by on our way to school?  Remember the Easter egg hunt in Dixon when I cried because I didn't find a single egg?  Remember the girls you kept me away from in middle school because they were 'sluts'?  Remember how at every house we've lived in there's been a momma robin trying to build a next on the porch?  Remember the day I found you planting daffodils out by the weeping willow tree bench that you had put there just for me?  Remember when you totally revamped my bedroom while you had sent me off to Europe and got me some mosquito netting over my bed because I wanted some?  Remember when you first took me to the Clinique counter to show me how to treat my skin and use makeup?  Remember when I threw my 4-H cross stitch project across the room out of frustration?  Remember the horse you guys bought me for Christmas one year?  Remember the grave and Adaliza and my Anne of Green Gables-like imagination?  Remember the bluebells at Clegg Gardens?  The bottle gentian and bluets at the 60 acres?

You've given me many great memories mom.  I love you for them all. 

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Does innocence ever really end?

I don't think so.  It hides sometimes under different weights of baggage.  It disguises itself as the quirk in your smile or the skip in your step but it's still there.  Buried but not lost, not gone, not ended.  If I can still have it after what I've been through then so can anyone.  If you think your innocence is lost then it is.  Cling to it.  It is also known as truth.

Deep thoughts for a Saturday.  Fearless Farmgirl has been hijacked.