Think again: http://freedomslightfilms.weebly.com/news/an-update-at-long-last_
:)
I wonder how much AfterEffects work I can knock out tomorrow.....
Y'all probably thought that I had totally, completely, irrevocably forgotten about the Cow Cavalry, didn't you? Think again: http://freedomslightfilms.weebly.com/news/an-update-at-long-last_ :) I wonder how much AfterEffects work I can knock out tomorrow..... Racheal
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Now, y'all may be scratching your heads here...wondering how on earth I can be chatting with livestock when I haven't any cattle or sheep or goats here--you know those animals typically considered livestock. *insert a snicker* Well, I have chickens and bees. Both livestock. Sure, they may not have four feet and chew the cud, but they are live stock. I'll let you in on Racheal's method of livestock keeping... First off, I tend to be the lazy keeper kind. The way I see it, critters can pretty much handle themselves and since they did before domestication, I consider that they will be stronger and healthier if I don't pamper them. That being said, I am not a careless livestock owner either, nor do I abuse my animals. I most definitely see to it that they are fed...and since it has warmed (and dried!!) up, I attempt to clean the chicken coop once a week--that is, when I am feeling up to it. If I don't, well, those birds can keep right on living on week old+ straw and you know. They really don't seem to mind, but then again they do kind of like the new straw--if only because they scratch through it and find whatever lurking wheat berries might still be in it. That's a chicken for you--put down a nice layer of straw and in an hour you can see the mud again. Second off, I talk (sometimes goofy) to my animals--chicken and bees. I can talk chicken fairly well, but understanding the bee's humming is summing I haven't quite gotten the hang of yet. I imagine it's kind of ridiculous, but I stand with an elbow on top of the hive, my ankles cross and say nice, encouraging things to my bees. I ask them questions (I know, I sound like a dope)...for instance, "How's your Queenie doing?" and stuff of that ilk. Naturally, they don't answer me, but I enjoy my idiocy, even if they don't. This serves a double purpose--comfortableness around bees and so, perhaps, they get to know me as something other than a threat. I don't know...but it's an interesting question: can a bee tell one human from another? Oh, and speaking of livestock, I should be getting my meat birds (finally!) tomorrow morning. All one hundred peeping baby birds. Now, that's a racket for you! I do look forward to it, for, as stinky as chickens can be, I rather enjoy raising the noisome, nosesome critters. I also, I must confess, thoroughly enjoy eating them as well...and it is rather hard to get emotionally attached to any in such a dramatic number as 100. Cows, perhaps, but not chickens. While it is true that chickens do have different personalities, cows are so much more personable--and more easily distinguishable from one another--maybe, if you don't have a pure bred herd--which has never been the case with our cattle as far as I am aware. Hopefully by tomorrow I shall feel good and full of energy (unlike the past two days) and be all properly enthusiastic, as well as having the brain power to do something useful. I need to make more rompers...but that's another subject for another time. Here's to hopes that all my chickies make it alive! RachealI don't mean that in a "thank-goodness-it's-Friday" way (not that it is Friday anyway), but meaning that it's been the day this week that I have felt the best (Tuesday may have been a better day, I can't remember). I have had a rough week this week, health-wise. I have been herxing all week. Not so very pleasant and hardly very productive or helpful to my family. I am still dealing a little with Mr. Icepick, but not as much as I was the past couple of days. (It's worst when I bend over at the waist...not sure why, but that seems to be a pattern.) However, when I got up today, I tested the back of my neck and decided that I could handle the market no problem. Which I did, if you don't count the little bit of sneezing and nose-blowing I did as I rediscovered that this "yankee grass" does indeed bother my southern sinuses. ;P (To be perfectly honest, and fair, I used to get a little sneezy while mowing the grass down on the ranch.) For Memorial Day weekend we did fairly well (Holidays/long weekends are always slow--even though you'd think it might be otherwise). Personally, I made 15 bucks from a doll dress. Always a happy feeling. :D We got two new 12'x 12' tents. Savannah was right--it is like moving into a bigger house! I like it! I know you hear about the Farmer's Markets every year, but I don't know if I've ever done much by way of pictures...so here's a few of our stuff and our (three currently) fellow vendors at the local one. Some of Jo's stuff. I figured she wouldn't appreciate the photos of her that Mama took, so I won't post them. My "next door" neighbors: And of course, y'all are just dying to see all the merchandise on my tables. ;) Like I was saying though...today has been my best day all week. After working the market this morning and eating lunch, I felt up to working out of doors. I headed for the rhubarb patch and finished weeding around the plants in the large patch behind the barn. (Next step there is running the string trimmer.) It took roughly two hours and by the end of those two hours, I and my nose were ready to find a place without 18" grass waving under said organ of smell. I wandered over to where Mama and Savannah were planting okra (!!) and said something--I don't remember what, but it was fairly unintelligible. Mama sent me in to go clean up and have a cup of mint tea to combat the stuffies...which I did after peering at my bees and seeing they were out of what and therefore filling up their water pan. By the way, this is what I get for weeding (on my knees) in a knee-length skirt: Somebody remind me not to do this again anytime soon. ;) At least not until they stop being sore.. Incidentally, speaking of soreness, I would so thrilled if I could find a lipstick the exact shade that my wind and sun-chapped lips are right now. It's red without looking dorky like red-lipstick (on me)... And now, with that very female train of thought...I'll bid ye adieu and go stare into the refrigerator and see if I can guess what someone else might have had planned for supper. (I think we will be having rabbit for the third meal in a row. Yesterday I fixed all the bunnies that Daddy had removed from circulation. So, we've been eating "Racheal's spin on a French recipe"...I think, humbly {you may laugh me to scorn}, that it's the best rabbit I've ever had.) RachealNo, not this Icepick: Mr. Icepick is an euphemism for the pain I get in my stomach when my Lyme flares up. I have been pretty useless the last two days. I spent yesterday afternoon with my headphones clamped on, writing...and writing...and writing. I made progress on one of my stories, so I guess I did not exactly waste the day. In the morning, I had worked on audio editing...but by lunch time I knew I couldn't take any more. Today I spent largely in bed reading. In between I washed dishes. I folded a load of laundry. I put clean sheets on my bed. I fed chickens. Wonder of wonders, I got my bedroom floor vacuumed. Yes, I did! Along with Mr. Icepick gleefully jabbing the lining of my stomach I have had Mr. Blah visiting. Also, an element of stiffness in my joints. I'm surprised I only dropped one egg today. Then of course, let's not neglect Mr. Odd-man Cramps (don't want to hurt his feelings, you know). He kept pinching me in various odd places. That left bicep though--that hurt. I had a sensation of being feverish at some point today, but I didn't take my temperature because I had just had something in my mouth--which throws the temperature read off either up or down, depending. So yes, sometimes one's visitors are not always of the pleasant sort--unlike the "real" Icepick who lived in the story realm of Magnum P.I. RachealI declare! I seem to be having a run of less than fantastically creative titles. Oh well. Dull brain for the last few days in particular. I don't know how much of it has to do with upping my bartonella killer from 5 to 6 drops (twice a day), but it may have something to do with it. Then again, it may not. I never am completely sure on these things. Now, lest you think I'm nothing but a short bundle of woe, allow me to inform you that I played my guitar (and not just my easy stuff--classical pieces too that required all my fingers, four fret stretches, and barre chords) for roughly an hour this morning and I did not need my brace! Now, how's that for good news? I was very pleased, even though my wrist was quite stiff when I got done. Not having the brace on noticeably improves my range of motion, stiff or not. I made lunch today, even though half way through one of the three onions I merrily chopped up, I sliced into my own thumb. It hit me right across the nail, about half way down. I was unable to tell whether or not I sliced all the way through the nail or if there was just blood from the fleshy cut pooling up in a groove. I am rather inclined to think that it was the latter since it didn't hurt terribly. Thankfully, it was a nice clean cut with a sharp knife and I didn't keep bearing down on it. So, I've been gimping around with a band-aid for the rest of the day...which means that I didn't get the eggs washed after lunch as I had planned. And that the idea of weeding rhubarb was scrubbed. I really kind of need both hands capable of getting filthy for that job--particularly when working around the mini plants. I went to town with Mama...we took a car-load of stuff to the Salvation Army. Since we were there, we went ahead and gave it a quick walk through. I was standing there, looking at the bookshelf and when I turned around I laid eyes on a cheerfully orange linen skirt. I am rather partial to orange (why? don't ask...I haven't an answer) and this was a really nice shade. I turned back around...then reversed myself and reached out and plucked it off the rack. "Mama...look at this!" A pause where I look at the size tag, "It says it's a 4." (No, I do not wear a 4...probably not since I was...12? if then...) Then I hold it up to myself (I can usually tell if a skirt will fit by the 'hold'em up' test), "I think I can wear it..." I tried it on...and I could! I beg leave to argue with the manufacturer on their sizing...ahem. Then, as it turned out, the tag was the 75% off color (which we didn't know until check out). So I got this nice, orange skirt for less than a dollar!! From there we went to Big Lots...then the grocery store. Nothing exciting there. Unless you want to count getting hungry and walking through food as an adventure. Coming home, the car was acting slightly...off. We pulled into the garage and the left front quadrant was smoking. I'm not quite sure what it is, but I think Daddy said something about the wheel bearing freezing up. I doodled around outside for a bit, getting my feet dirty and scratched up. I sort of 'helped' Mama with a clean out job on the north side of the house. All in all, I feel as though I have had a slow day with that dumb look on my face the whole time. :) How was YOUR day? RachealPhlooey! That's a mouthful!! Anyway, I decided that I had better run back over to FloridaMemory.com to double check the identity of a certain fine looking older gentleman. I had gotten mixed up as to how many Hendry brother's I was dealing with and the one...well, I got to thinking, he looked a little too young. He was. He was Captain F.A. Hendry's son. Then I noticed something I had never really noticed before about this picture... On the right (from the right), is Captain Hendry, his son James Edward, and his grandson James Edward Jr. Now....just look at those three gentlemen. Do you see what I do? There is a family resemblance even in their stance!! The other three, from the left, are G.W. Hendry (brother), Mary Jane Hendry Blount (sister; relation to us maybe??), and W.M. Hendry (brother). I must say I love this generations of men's names...Francis Asbury, George Washington, and William Marion. :) (Someday I'd like to name a son "Francis Marion"... :D) Okay...so there is my Cow Cav-related spiel for today. RachealI cannot claim to have had an overly exciting-to-tell week this week...sure I've had enough excitement working on AfterEffect compositions, but that kind of work hardly makes for thrilling reading... ;D It took ALL DAY to render 33 compositions--which I did yesterday. In the meanwhile I ironed my stack of ironing and did sundry other piddly little jobs...none of which I seem to be capable of recalling at this moment. At any rate...I do remember thinking at some point yesterday that I was having a fairly productive day, so whatever it was that I did must have had some sort of significance. However, looking around, I can see the things that I did not get done this week...for instance, there is an unassembled skirt on the corner of the dining room table (yes, don't all sane persons keep sewing projects in their dining room!?). In the living room, there sit my bee hives--still unpainted. I was going to paint them this week, but the weather got too cold again...and quite honestly, I did have my nose glued to the computer screen for the majority of the week getting things done. There is always next week, right? ;) (I told my Mama I would seriously try to have the hives OUT of the living room before they get back...) I received a book in the mail (don't worry, Daddy, I'm reimbursing you for my latest shopping spree... :D): Handsome man, that...ahem.... Anyway, I haven't started reading it yet, but I have started reading Christ in the Camp while I wait for my coffee in the morning. You see, I really AM serious about reading more. Speaking of WBtS's reading...I am quite aware that my day-by-day has fallen by the wayside again. I'll try to get it back up and running, but I'm not promising anything. Sometimes some stuff has to be let go of in order to get more important things done. And...if you haven't guess, I'm more or less CRAMMING to get The Cow Cavalry done. Me and it are ready to breath a sigh of relief... ;) Don't worry, I have plans for the next thing I am going to tackle!! However, I'm keeping that mainly under my hat for now. I have definitely learned A LOT from The Cow Cavalry and one of the main things is "be more organized" and SET YOURSELF DEADLINES. (Literally, I see that in all caps in my head.) Also, I think that next time, I will be ready to start the editing before I start to cast voice overs and the like. (By the by, I'm sticking to documentaries for the present...) However, I think when The Cow Cav gets done, I will mainly focus on really nailing my impersonation for the upcoming conference. I confess myself slightly nervous (though giddily excited about it as well). I have moments where I give myself a mental shaking and demand, "Racheal, what have you gotten yourself into??" Then I shrug it off and grin like a goof-ball and murmur to myself, "It'll be okay...I just hope I don't come off like an idiot." Well...anyway. You get the idea. This is going to be fun!! Ah...well. Now that I have relieved my 'writing itch', I'll go figure something else out to do. I really want a snack, but I can't eat anything yet since I just took my Bart killer... :P RachealIt is Spring!! You already knew that, though...but still...I can get excited. The weather is warming up around here (more or less)--it was in the high 50's today and I spent a nice hour and a half out of doors this morning, puttering. First I planted the mustard greens (finally, I might add). I had pulled out the chard, but looking at the package, it seemed like a little bit warmer weather would be better for planting that. Secondly, I gathered up the lopers and addressed myself to the "orchard". I went through and cut down the little saplings from where the Peonies will come up...from under the Flowering Quince (it gets these beautiful little red flowers) and whatever that other thing is next to it. Then I trimmed the little upstart Lindens and Maples from under that very characterful pine along the front. The top is missing from it and it does have such an interesting shape. From there I moved to the asparagus bed (if I remember correctly, it didn't do so outstanding last year; not that I myself would personally care over much as asparagus is one of those things I just don't like). I left one of the saplings in there...it can always come out later if the Executives (heehee!) don't like the underling's decision. ;) Anyway, I went about and did some "spring cleaning" in just that one area. I also picked up the dead fall. Still, I set myself the task and I completed it. I'm going to ease my way back into work and see how much I can do without coming down with a case of "the M".... I did one or two piddly other things before coming in to be greeted by the piteous yowls of a cat who just knew it was lunch time... I am pleased to say that I got everything on my to-do list done today. :) That included washing eggs. I always intend to do them every two days or so, but lately it's been more like every five--so it's no wonder I end up with 9 dozen at a time... The next thing on my agenda was vacuuming the house. I did that, singing, as usual, songs along the vein of "The Southern Soldier" and "Riding a Raid". Abby dodged me and hid--also as usual. Ah...satisfaction.... :) I even got this skirt I'm planning on making cut out....which really just entailed cutting the legs off a pair of jeans (the legs simply shredded when washed after I walked through the briers in Florida once) and cutting the one yard swaths of two different green fabrics into strips. I'm going to have a flouncy cotton skirt! :) I'll leave you with that interesting tidbit of information... RachealWhen Savannah and I went to go see Grandpa this afternoon, both he and Grandma were sound asleep when we got there...so we went and took a walk. There is actually a nice, fairly good-sized park right next to the hospital. By the time we got done with our stroll around it, my right knee decided it was going to act up. One reason that I do not really like walking for 'pleasure'. That knee always seems to bug me after a short-ish period of time. We re-entered the hospital and rode the elevator up to the 3rd floor--where Grandpa is--and spent a few minutes leaning on the window bar and laughing at the de-construction zone below us. One of the three big machines had a magnet on it for picking up the iron scraps out of the felled building's former structure. We watched that for a while before we realized that the guy in the one to the left was using the big bucket on his machine to pick out the same sort of metal rubbish! We burst out laughing over this, because it would have been simply faster (and probably easier) had he gotten out and done it by hand. Still, the man did have "mad skills" (wherever that piece of slang originated). Anyway, for some reason, Tommy and Ricky came to my mind and I gestured towards the magnet man, "The guy with the magnet would be Ricky...and Tommy would be the one picking the metal out with the scoop!" We thereafter erupted into more effusive mirth, imagining the things that the brother's might say to each other (or about each other) under the circumstances. I am sure we were equally successful in envisioning the teasing, ornery gleam that they might have in their eyes and even the body language that would have accompanied any such teasings. In all, we had a pleasant few moments enjoying a hearty laugh. We then drifted back to Grandpa's room and he was just waking up. He was in one of the chairs, so I plopped myself down on the bed, my feet dangling over the edge (y'all know about my short legs, correct?) and sat there for chattering at and with him until suppertime. I had fixed him up a cup of coffee before I seated myself...he seemed to enjoy it. When supper arrived, it proved to be a sloppy joe (we always called them "sloppy jane's" in our house due to the all-girl population amongst the children), a salad, and some tater tots. Since Grandpa would have ended up with most of the 'joe' down his front, I wrastled the bun filled with tasty-looking stuffing for him. I mean, I held it for him; I didn't eat it!! We left around six as he was starting in on his stewed apricots. It was high time to get the chickens fed...and me for that matter. By the time I got in from my chicken chores, my stomach was burning. I'm blaming it primarily on too much coffee over the past several days. As soon as I put food into it, the burning was quelled. In mighty happy news, Grandpa should be released from the hospital tomorrow morning!!!! RachealIt's funny how one thought leads to another (or in this case, to a memory). I was wondering where I had "mislaid" my make-up. After all, I knew I brought it back with me because I remembered tucking it someplace. Only problem was, I couldn't remember where "someplace" was... And I then had what in a film would be shot as a flashback... Here it was, the morning of Granddaddy's funeral and I couldn't find my make-up anywhere. I looked in all the more sensible places that a girl might pack her make-up...but I couldn't find it. I began to suspect that I had accidentally left it on the counter up north. So, I borrowed Mama's--replete with eyeliner...on the bottom...which I did not like, but couldn't really get wiped off. (I thought I looked weird; I kind of tend towards the low-make-up/no make-up approach anyway.) Then, oh, about a week and a half later, I found the stuff. In my guitar music bag of all places! What normal guitar playing female doesn't pack her "fixin's" in her music bag?? Well, apparently, I didn't follow that same brilliant rule of thumb on the trip back up. I guess I thought someplace else would be more sensible. Instead, I packed it in...get this...a shoe box. But not any ol' shoe box. A shoe box with summer sandals in it. A box, that, if I hadn't had a fuzzy notion that I might, just might have put the facial goop in it, that I probably would not have opened again until April. And there you have it. Don't trust Racheal to keep track of her own beautifiers. She's bound to stick it anyplace but her suitcase...and then forget in which of her tangent bags she poked it. Bows and exits. Racheal |
New post on The Bee Project! 04/26/18
The Middle KidI chose to title this blog "The Adventures of a Middle Kid" because that is exactly what I'll be detailing (mostly). I chose 'kid' over any other word, like 'girl' (I am the middle girl so it also would have worked) or 'child' Archives
April 2019
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