Someone named Tim likes this blog. Well, shucks! Thanks, Tim.
He put me in a list of good farm blogs to read. A top 30 list, even. Harvestin' Blarney made the top 30! Eat that, pop rock stars.
Of course it's his own personal opinion. It's not like anyone voted or anything. But hey, I'll take it. As we say around these parts, "Beggars can't be choosers." (Please don't ask me what that means. It's just what we say, got it?)
There's no tellin' what fame and stardom are gonna do to a smalltown farmer like me. I hope the animals are prepared for the paparazzi. Which reminds me: I'd better go get the cockleburs out of the horses' manes. And I'd better stop saying cockleburs--someone might get the wrong idea.
Anyways, Paul's list of most sensational, inspirational, celebrational, muppetational--oops, I got myself confused with the Muppet Show for a second there--farm blogs can be found here:
http://www.bestcollegesonline.net/blog/2010/30-old-macdonald-had-a-farm-blogs/
Over and out, peeps. And I don't mean the chickens for once.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
Morning Admissions
Today's the day. The day I come clean.
You see, I've been hiding something from you. Something that I've been too ashamed to admit.
It's not that I've meant to decieve you in any way, it's just.....well, it's just that sometimes it's easier to say nothing than to come clean about things like this.
And anyways, it's not like any of you have asked. But still. You read this blog to learn about farmlife, to see how things are really done, to get a taste of rural life. You've helped me get through the many trials I face here on the farm, the difficult decisions and the many mistakes. But most importantly, you've helped me celebrate those rare triumphs, those few things that I've done and done well.
So I owe you. I owe you the truth.
OK. Here it is. Here goes nothing. Here's the deep, dark, shameful secret I've been hiding all this time:
I do morning chores in my PJ's.
I don't take the time to get dressed before doing chores. I just throw on my coat and boots and go tend the animals. I have been known, even, to duck into barns or the garage if someone is driving by so they don't see me in my blue-striped pajama pants or my grey sweats that are too short. I know! The shame of it has been killing me.
Think what you must, but that's the bare truth of it. That's how things get done here on my farm. Weird but true.
You see, I've been hiding something from you. Something that I've been too ashamed to admit.
It's not that I've meant to decieve you in any way, it's just.....well, it's just that sometimes it's easier to say nothing than to come clean about things like this.
And anyways, it's not like any of you have asked. But still. You read this blog to learn about farmlife, to see how things are really done, to get a taste of rural life. You've helped me get through the many trials I face here on the farm, the difficult decisions and the many mistakes. But most importantly, you've helped me celebrate those rare triumphs, those few things that I've done and done well.
So I owe you. I owe you the truth.
OK. Here it is. Here goes nothing. Here's the deep, dark, shameful secret I've been hiding all this time:
I do morning chores in my PJ's.
I don't take the time to get dressed before doing chores. I just throw on my coat and boots and go tend the animals. I have been known, even, to duck into barns or the garage if someone is driving by so they don't see me in my blue-striped pajama pants or my grey sweats that are too short. I know! The shame of it has been killing me.
Think what you must, but that's the bare truth of it. That's how things get done here on my farm. Weird but true.
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