Not Just a Pretty Face

Spring is upon us! Or so the calendar says. As usual around this time of year, the need to get out of the house for a bit hit hard a couple of weeks ago. Since I work remotely and can use my cell phone as a hot-spot for WiFi, at the spur of the moment I decided to visit my Dad and work from his place in Pennsylvania (PA) for a few days. I was curious to see if anyone at work would notice a difference, so I didn’t say anything to my co-workers or bosses.

The Chicken Coop at Turtle Tree Farm

Hubby and I were in Baltimore on March 17 anyway — more than halfway to Dad’s — so it was only a slight diversion. We were in Baltimore helping my mother-in-law get settled in her new apartment. Mike had to be there way earlier than me, so he drove his car. I followed later with Belle in my car. Because Belle isn’t allowed to ride in his fancy-schmancy little roadster, I took his car to PA and he drove my car and Belle home to Virginia.

It took me less than 24 hours to realize I could NOT work from Dad’s. His home is small, which normally wouldn’t be a problem, but he’s losing his hearing. That means he talks really loudly and keeps the TV volume at movie-theater levels. I was going to drive home Sunday evening, then I sent my friend Tracey a text about visiting her on the way home. I knew she had some baby goats I wanted to see.  At that time she had nine baby goats with two more pregnant mamas due to give birth in the next few days. Once we got to talking about the state of affairs at her farm, I realized she was a little stressed, maybe feeling a tad overwhelmed, and could probably use some help. Knowing she has WiFi and a house that would be more-accommodating than Dad’s (high-speed WiFi and quiet space!) I volunteered to spend a few days, maybe even the week helping out at Turtle Tree Farm. Not only did she agree, she even said she could rearrange the feeding schedule around my working hours.

Big Mama Willow

 

Five of the Other Adult Females (there are seven total)

It did not interfere with my job at all. AND it was a fun, refreshing change of pace for me.

Elderberry

 

Morning Glory (and some chickens)

 

Willow (with Turtle the photo-bomber in the background)

 

Some of the Kids (in their warming hut)

Tracey and her husband, John, raise and breed Nigerian Dwarf goats. It was awesome getting to see and help care for the goat babies. Two were only a few days old, four were about a week old, and three were about two and a half weeks old when I arrived. It was my job to feed the older ones.

I forgot to mention that all of the babies require bottle feeding. The Mamas are kept as dairy goats. Plus, when the babies are bottle-fed by humans, they become very accustomed to being touched and handled by people, which helps make them great pets.

Clarice and Me

Most of the babies will go live on other farms, so they don’t get real names. But this feisty girl reminded Tracey of Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer’s girlfriend, Clarice. So that’s what we called her. We had to call them something. How else would we be able to keep them all straight?

Clarice was super-sweet, and VERY nosy.

Me holding Clarice (left) and Frosty Ears.

 

Jumping Jack wanted to join the party, too.

Those photos are not staged. The goats really are very friendly, especially the kids. And nosy. Plus, they love to jump and climb. And there were nine of them in the stall with us! Plus Olive, who’d been due to deliver on Monday along with Willow. Olive had delivered early — on Friday morning, I think. Poor Willow was overdue and looking like she was about to explode.

Tracey in her happy place, singing and milking.

That’s one of my favorite pics from the week. Tracey LOVES being a farmer. I must admit, it was fun being surrounded by animals, literally, all week.

I did not just take pictures all week. I had specific jobs I had to do. In addition to feeding the older babies, and helping with the smaller ones, I had to feed and water all of the adults, too. Morning feedings were the most-hectic. Once all the babies had been fed, Tracey milked the mamas while I stuffed all of the hay bags, distributed pellets to the girls, cleaned and filled water bins, etc. And remember, I was also doing my full-time job from the farm-house kitchen that week, too.

Yes, I was actually working.

Filling the hay bags was one of my jobs.

Things really started to get interesting on Tuesday when it started to snow. We knew the storm was coming, and predictions of severity varied widely, so we shut the goats in the barn Monday night. The snow started around 9:00 a.m. on Tuesday and didn’t stop until late in the day on Wednesday, after about 18 inches (46 cm) had fallen.

The good news about the snow? We got to make and enjoy Snow Cream! (A lot of Snow Cream. That’s snow, sugar, vanilla, and milk. YUM!)

Thursday morning

We hadn’t had much snow at all in Virginia this past winter, so I was actually excited to see the snow. Except I had Hubby’s little sports car, which just happens to have tires designed for warm-weather use. No way I’d be going anywhere in the snow in that thing.

The SLK was Buried!

 

Thursday morning trek to barn.

 

The Barn Boss

Things got REALLY exciting Thursday morning. When we arrived at the barn, we realized Willow had given birth to three kids, probably only within the previous hour or so. Two were huge, and one was tiny, barely hanging on to life.

We had to scurry to get the kids fed and Willow transferred from the stall with the adults to the nursery stall. Then we had to rig-up a barrier to keep Willow separate from the other babies. It’s important for the kids to nurse immediately after birth as that’s when Mama’s nutrients are most-beneficial.

Willow and her babies.

The big babies were the same size as week-old kids! Meanwhile, their little brother was itty-bitty. Crazy size difference, really.

The Runt, who I nick-named Bitty Baby

Look at that face! He was no more than a couple hours old at that point, still wet from the womb.

Willow and the big girls. (Bitty Baby was in the warming hut.)

 

Lucky, another barn cat.

The cats don’t just happen along and take up residence in the barn. There’s a very specific method you need to use when they’re kittens to imprint the barn as their home. They, too, have important jobs to do. Mainly, they keep the barn vermin-free. They’re fully vetted, well-fed, and treated like members of the team.

Hi, kids!

 

The Barn Boss (cat) fits right in.

 

Cute ears.

When we got back to the house, I had to dig the car out. John was using the snow-blower and tractor to clear the driveway. It’s a LONG driveway.

Long Driveway

I forgot to mention the three resident dogs. Pictured below are, Beatrix Potter (Bea) on left and Piper, the two chocolate-colored girls. George Bailey is in front. He’s 11 months old and a handful! He has a job, too. Impregnating Bea, who is expecting puppies on April 19.

The Pups

They have to sit in that room and dry off a bit before tracking snow and mud through the rest of the house.

About midday, we decided to bring Bitty Baby into the house. Willow wasn’t at all interested in feeding him, so Tracey had to take care of him, otherwise he would die. Actually, it was touch-and-go with him for days because he was so tiny. (Thanks to Farmer Tracey, he pulled through and has since gone to live with his forever family.)

Bitty Baby beside a work glove for scale.

Just look at that face!

Bitty Baby

On Friday morning, Tracey was still in her bedroom enjoying quiet time as I was drinking my coffee. So, when the little guy started hollering, I picked him up and snuggled him on my lap for a while. Meow-Meow, one of three indoor cats, joined us, too.

Coffee-time Cuddles

Not many people get to sit drinking their morning coffee with a beautiful, day-old goat on their lap!

Tracey had to force formula down his throat. Literally. He just did not want to eat. But he sure did like hollering.

Tracey, force-feeding the little guy.

Below is another of my favorite captures from the week.

Tracey and George

One is rarely ever alone at Turtle Tree Farm, inside or out!

A Peaceful Moment

Tracey did manage to get out to feed the chickens on Wednesday as the storm was winding down. As she re-entered the barn, a large wad of snow fell right on her head. She was not hurt, but she also wasn’t happy. Just another day at the farm!

The Overhang

Could things get any more exciting?

Actually, yes. During dinner on Friday, we were discussing our plan to spend a quiet evening sitting by the fire with wine, sewing. But when we got to the barn for the 8:00 p.m. feeding, we discovered that Myrtle Brown was in active labor! Never a dull moment.

We had to get Myrtle sequestered in the nursery stall and get the babies fed. Then we waited. You could tell we were making her nervous — Tracey’s granddaughter (age 17) and a friend had stopped by to see the babies — so we all went back to the house for a bit to give Myrtle her privacy. We returned to the barn about an hour later, not long before Myrtle started birthing her kids.

Yep, I got to see the whole thing! It was super-cool. The first kid was huge. Tracey said it was the longest she’d ever seen. Two others followed pretty quickly. Myrtle wasn’t doing the clean-up thing that mama goats are supposed to do, so Tracey not only had to burst at least one of the sacs, she had to dry-off all three kids, too. Once she placed them by Myrtle’s head, Mama started loving on the babies just as she was supposed to. Meanwhile, I was watching Myrtle and told Tracey I thought there was another kid coming. She said it was the afterbirth, which also had to be delivered. Poor Myrtle was making the weirdest faces as contractions wracked her body. The stuff that was coming out the business end looked pretty solid to me.

“I think that’s another one,” I said. Sure enough, Tracey reached down there and felt kid number four! She burst that sac, too, dried the kid off, and gave it to Mama. Four babies for Myrtle Brown! That meant 16 total kids in the nursery stall, plus two Mamas, a Goat Farmer, and the temporary Farmhand. Hannah and her girlfriend watched from outside the stall. What a way for two teens to spend a Friday evening, but they acted like it was all normal stuff.

Two older kids, watching the excitement.

The older kids were romping and cavorting the whole time Myrtle was in labor. They were also interested in what was happening in the neighboring stall. The barn was too dark and busy for many pics, but I got a bunch the next morning.

One of Myrtle’s kids.

 

Myrtle’s other three kids.

One of her kids was all black.

Myrtle Brown

She’s such a sweet goat.

Play-time!

 

Play-time!

 

Play-time!

 

I could sit and watch for hours.

 

Fun times.

 

Such beautiful kids!

 

Curious Kids

 

Playful and Curious!

 

The final walk back to the house.

It was not a relaxing week by any stretch of the imagination — farmhands work hard! — but it was a good week. Since I wasn’t able to participate in girls’ weekend back in February, I enjoyed the opportunity to catch up with Tracey.  It would have been nice had Carol been able to join us, but she has some health issues that currently prevent her from driving and minimize her level of physical activity.

It was fun spending time with Tracey’s hubby John, too. I chuckle to myself every time I think of him returning from work on Friday, saying “Honeys, I’m home!” as he came in the door. He contributed to our eating really well, too.

All in all, it was one of the coolest, most-tiring weeks I have ever enjoyed. I am so grateful to have such amazing friends. I am honored that Tracey trusted me enough to play such an active role taking care of her precious babies that whole week.

I am hoping I get to help next year, too!

More pics are online in a shared Google Photos folder for those who are interested: ToadMama the Farmhand.

An Unexpected Surprise

Last weekend was supposed to have been my annual girlfriend getaway in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. It is something we all look forward to every year. Our lives are all very different, and we don’t always do a great job of staying in touch throughout the year, so it is always nice to get together over a long weekend and catch up. The fun shopping we usually do is just a bonus.

I actually made my hotel reservation months ago, using Booking.com. It’s one of the travel apps I use regularly to book travel. They offer discounted room rates for many hotels. The cheaper the rate, the more-restrictive the cancellation policy. The best rates are always non-refundable. It’s a bit of a gamble, but I knew I would never voluntarily cancel such a trip.

I booked before we knew K was sick. And, of course, we had no idea exactly when her time would come. The afternoon we said goodbye to K was supposed to have been my first day in Pennsylvania. I did call the hotel on Thursday morning to let them know I would not be there that night, but I did not say why. I also did not cancel my reservations for Friday and Saturday. There was a very small chance that I would still be able to go. It would have been a distraction, but, long story short, I couldn’t go. K’s passing was very hard on all of us. I did not want or need a distraction. In my mind, that would have just prolonged the really difficult phase of the grieving process. You know, the part where you have to deal with constant reminders that your loved one is gone as you all face your “normal” day without them.

I was going to give you some examples, but decided not to go down that sad path. Just suffice it to say it was really hard. I knew I had to face that gut-wrenching grief in order to  get past the really hard part. To be able to function again. K is gone. I really loved that dog. She will never be forgotten, but I cannot let myself wallow in misery. That is not me. I actually think some people like reliving those sad feelings. I do not know why. Maybe they feel like it justifies their love? Or that the ongoing grief proves they really did love a person or a pet. I have no idea. What I DO know is that I am not one of those people. I hate it. Grief drains me. I would much rather make a conscious effort, daily, NOT to be sad, than to let myself relive those sad feelings on a daily basis. But people are different. I do not miss K any less, I just choose not to dwell on missing her. I refuse to think of her in such a was that makes me cry every day. It doesn’t mean that I loved her any less, or that I don’t cry daily, it just means I refuse to torture myself. Life is too short to wallow in unhappiness. NOT thinking of her in a way that causes tears requires effort. And some days are definitely harder than others. But I will not be a wallower.

I tried to be strong for K in the days leading up to her death. I was partially successful. I didn’t want her final days to be full of sadness and tears. AFTER was another story. I won’t get into just how awful it all was, just trust me when I say it was bad. I really miss my girl. Going to Pennsylvania would not have helped anyone.

Yes, it sucked that I’d lose the money I’d spent on the hotel, but I figured those funds were gone regardless of whether I actually went or not.  I have used Booking.com for a long time, and am well aware of its policies, so I didn’t even bother asking for a refund. I responded to an e-mail from Booking.com asking me to rate my stay by saying I had not stayed at the property (I checked a box). When a follow-up e-mail arrived asking why I hadn’t stayed, I replied with, “My dog died. Really.” That was the end of my communication about that trip.

Imagine my surprise the other day when I noticed an e-mail in my in-box from my credit card provider mentioning a  credit to my account. When I actually opened that e-mail, I saw that it said “We want to let you know that a credit of $76.90 from CLARION INN STRASBURG INN posted to your account on 02/26/18. The funds are now available. You don’t need to do anything, but if you’d like to review this transaction in more detail, please sign in to your account.”

I thought to myself, “Aw, that was nice. They credited me for one of the nights.”

It was so unexpected that I really thought a mistake had been made. So a day later I decided to sign in to check and see if the credit had been reversed. Not only had the credit NOT been reversed, there were actually credits in my account for each of the three nights I had reserved.

How cool is that? I have no idea how it happened, or who is responsible. It would not have been up to the folks at Booking.com, it had to be the people at The Historic Strasburg Inn (a Clarion property). I did not ask for a refund. I did not even bother to call and actually cancel any of the nights. I just assumed it was my loss. I guess they showed me!

I’m not sure if the decision came from Clarion or the folks at The Historic Strasburg Inn. I suspect it was the Inn’s management. Either way, my faith in humanity has certainly gotten a bit of a boost. They did not have to issue any refund. A refund of one day would have been appreciated. But they refunded ALL THREE DAYS.  They will certainly get my business in the future.

Quick Visit with Dad

In case you missed my recent post, a brief stint of unemployment — three short days — sent me scurrying to have some fun before the new job started.

First up was a visit to my Dad’s house in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. I’d bought him a new cell phone, which I needed to deliver so I could activate the thing and switch his old number over.

Dad and Me
Dad and Me

I’d planned on taking the car, but the humidity had finally dropped, which meant it would just be silly not to take the bike.

The main reason I’d wanted to take the car was that I’d decided to finally visit the nearby Stoudts Brewing Company, the source of my favorite “cow beer,” a Bavarian-style hefeweizen, which is very hard to find in Virginia.

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Cow Beer Source

Luckily, Aunt Bertha rode over to the brewery with me, so I was able to get two cases.

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Aunt Bertha

I thought I’d have to leave one of the cases at Dad’s house, but I actually managed to get it all packed into my bike.

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The corn along Dad’s road was VERY tall.

 

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My customary visit to the neighbor’s barn.

 

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Horses in the field beside the dairy cows.

 

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Dad’s neighborhood is awesome.

 

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I fed the horses some carrots (it was Dad and Aunt Bertha’s idea).

 

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Sunset over Lancaster County.

 

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Zoomed in on sunset to capture that Great Blue Heron.

I spent the night at Dad’s then left early on Thursday for the ride home. Temps were in the mid 60s when I set out. It was lovely.

Here are some things I saw and captured during the ride home. I thought you all might like to see some of the pretty landscapes and other stuff I enjoyed in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia.

Even the gas stations in Pennsylvania are fun. I couldn’t resist filling up at The Turkey Hill Experience in Columbia.

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Me and the giant cow at Turkey Hill.

 

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Moo!

And I just HAD to stop by the Haines’ Shoe House in Hallum, which I needed to drive right past anyway.

Haines Shoe House
Haines Shoe House

I saw quite a few pretty barns along the way, too.

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Pretty Barn

 

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Pretty Barn

 

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Pretty Barn

 

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Pretty Barn

 

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Abandoned bus stop.

 

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Pretty Barn

I really like seeing all the old barns in PA, which look a lot different than the barns I usually see in Virginia.

 

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View near the PA/MD border.

 

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A Ural dealer? I HAD to stop.

I’d never actually seen a Ural in person. So, when I came across More Than Motorcycles (official Ural dealer in Maryland), I couldn’t resist stopping to gawk. John, who was working on the older model pictured below, was kind enough to humor me.

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Ural Dealer

 

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New Retro Ural

 

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Slightly older, limited edition model.

 

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Painted building in downtown Thurmont, Maryland.

 

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Back in Virginia. I just LOVE those stone walls.

 

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Abandoned silo near Marshall, Virginia.

 

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Lovely road near Marshall, Virginia.

And that ends my quick visit to Dad’s in Pennsylvania. It was nice seeing him and his sisters, Pearl and Bertha. Hopefully, I will get back to PA for another visit soon.

Next up, my incredible long-weekend jaunt with Hubby.

The 2015 Spring-time Girlfriend Getaway

My annual girlfriend getaway was a success. But it went by way too fast, as usual. And Tracey could only stay through Friday afternoon. Carol and I missed having Tracey with us, but we made the best of it.

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L-R, Tracey, Carol, and Me

On Thursday, we did a little shopping, and eating. But mostly, we just enjoyed each other’s company. We don’t get together nearly as often as we’d like to.

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Selfie with the mascot at Katie’s Kitchen

We had dinner at Katie’s Kitchen, near Strasburg. They have the BEST fried green beans. Nothing like a healthy dose of veggies for an appetizer.

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Lancaster, Pennsylvania is a unique place.

Friday took us to The Green Dragon. It’s billed as a farmers’ market and auction, but it’s more than that. There’s meat and produce, of course, but there’s also a slew of other stuff for sale. Anything and everything, really. Baked goods, nuts, candy, home decor of all varieties (and decades), hardware, live plants, produce, pet supplies, clothing, flags, rugs, furniture. You name it, you can find it at The Green Dragon. For better or worse.

green_dragon

Unfortunately, it was PACKED with people. We usually go around late-February/early-March. Apparently, the colder temps keep folks away. The warmer temps bring them out in droves.

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Whoopie Pies

But we made do, elbowing our way through to our favorite baker of Whoopie Pies. They have a new, radical sign-maker, who decided to change the spelling of one of our favorite treats. It’s supposed to be WHOOPIE. Really.

And we got our favorite lunch treat, too.

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We love pretzel dogs.

A visit to The Green Dragon wouldn’t be complete without a pretzel dog. Or two.

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Pretzel Dog

The pretzel dogs were absolutely delicious. And look what I had for dessert…

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Peanut Butter Cookie Whoopie Pie

I saw an important instructional sign, too.

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Tracey left us at The Green Dragon. She had to go to a dinner party/wedding cake sampler affair. Carol and I continued on to some of our other favorite little shops.

But first, Carol needed to run into Wal-Mart. I waited in the car, capturing this shot of the Wal-Mart parking lot.

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Buggy Parking at Wal-Mart

Next up was Carson’s in the Cornfields, a truly unique spot that sells antiques, architectural salvage, re-purposed items, painted furniture, cabinet hardware, outdoor accessories, and other stuff. It’s one of my favorite shops.

cornfields

Saturday, I went shopping for clothes — ugh! — while Carol visited with her niece and great-nieces for a bit. Then we shopped some more.

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Almost Paradise Outdoor Shop

Throughout the course of the four-day shopping extravaganza, I was constantly amazed at the variety of, um, stuff, being sold. I’ll save that for another post, though.

Almost Paradise is always entertaining, with their yard full of concrete and resin statuary.

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Mary on the Half Shell!

 

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How can you not smile at that?

And Carol finally found the perfect dog.

"Hi, puppy!"
“Hi, puppy!”

The adoption fee was a bit steep, so the doggie didn’t come home with us.

I was so tickled to see a group of Virginia gentlemen seated around a picnic table that I just HAD to join them for a spell.

The Virginians
The Virginians

It’s a fun place, if you like kitschy stuff as much as I do.

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Cutest Little Over-priced Piggy

And look what we saw on our way back to the motel. It was parked outside a country store.

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Pony and Cart

Perhaps a horse and buggy was out of this person’s financial reach?

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Lancaster is a picturesque place.

Although temperatures were a bit on the cool side, the weather was generally pretty nice. It’s such a picturesque place, really, when you are away from the mega shopping outlets and such.

But the shopping places are fun. And look what I found…

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New yard art!

Yes, I brought him home.

I’ll share some of the more unique stuff I saw in my next post.

Birthday Lunch

Seventy-six years ago yesterday, my Dad was born. As luck would have it, I was able to finagle a day out of the office and ride to Pennsylvania for a lunch-time celebration.

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Dad and Me

I was tickled to be able to spend the day with him. For months, I’ve been wanting to go up for a visit. Timing just hadn’t worked out. What with all the stuff I’ve had going on lately — nothing bad, just busy — and his part-time work schedule.

It’s so nice visiting in his “new” home. He’s been there a little over a year now. He’d moved from Pennsylvania, his boyhood home, to Baltimore in 1969. After Mom’s passing in 2012, it seemed like getting him back to the country was the right thing to do. It took until June of 2013 to make that happen, but it was worth the wait.

His new home is in the perfect location, a mobile home park surrounded by farmland, minutes away from the area where he grew up.

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Morning View from Dad’s Porch

Now, he can sit on his large front porch, enjoying the breeze, watching Amish buggies ride by. Pure bliss.

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Dad’s Yard Art

The frogs belonged to his home’s former occupants, but I think he keeps them around for me.

Two of his sisters, Pearl and Bertha, live in the same mobile home community. They joined us for a celebratory birthday lunch yesterday at Dad’s favorite restaurant, Gus’s Keystone Diner in Mount Joy.

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L-R, Aunt Bertha, Aunt Pearl, Dad and Me

Gus’s doesn’t look like your typical diner, but, like most diners, it has an extensive menu and good, home-cooking-type food.

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Gus and Me

 

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Daily Specials

Pennsylvania Dutch-style home cooking that is. Note the “pig’s stomach” special. Ugh.

And that Chicken Pot Pie isn’t the stuff baked in crust that most of the world eats, it is boiled chicken pot pie. Essentially it’s very thick hand-cut noodles cooked in chicken broth with chunks of chicken and potatoes. Aunt Bertha asked Dad before he ordered whether he knew if Gus puts “carrots, peas, and that other crap” in his pot pie. She says they don’t belong in pot pie.

As much as I love peas and carrots, I have to agree. But Dad said it was good.

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Boiled Chicken Pot Pie

 

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Ham Steak with Pineapple Sauce

The aunts both got a ham steak.

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Grilled Ham & Provolone on a Pretzel Roll

I had to chuckle when my sandwich arrived. It was heart-shaped. Can you see it?

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Delicious Beet Salad

I absolutely LOVE this red beet salad Gus’s serves. It is simply red beets, onion, and parsley in a sweetish red beet juice. YUM.

Lunch was delicious. The company was pretty good, too. Those three together are a hoot.

Dad took me on a little detour after lunch. The last couple times I went there, shortly after my arrival, he asked, “Did you see the tobacco?” Both times, my reply was, “I don’t know. I don’t know what tobacco looks like.”

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Nearby Tobacco Field

Now I can say I know what tobacco looks like. I know where the field is, too, so I can be on the lookout on future trips. According to Dad and Aunt Bertha, those plants are ready to be harvested. Their parents farmed tobacco when Dad and Bertha were young.

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Very Tall Corn

I asked Aunt Bertha to take a picture of me near the cornfield so y’all could see how tall it is. The picture doesn’t do it justice, though. The scale is wrong. I bet that stuff is 12 feet tall!

Shortly after we got back to the house, I set off for home. On the way up, I took the fastest route. On the way home, since the weather was perfect, I took the scenic route.

On several occasions, I felt like I was riding through a corn tunnel.

My first stop was in Dillsburg, Pennsylvania, the home of the Pickle Man Statue. He’s carved out of an old tree stump.

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Pickle Man Statue

 

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Pickle Man and Me

I sent Hubby a text while I was stopped. With the above selfie attached.

His reply cracked me up.

Text Exchange
Text Exchange

After that, I made my way home, meandering south and west along two-lane roads down through Pennsylvania, through Maryland, and finally into Virginia and then home.

I hope Dad enjoyed his birthday as much as I did. 🙂

Coolest Shabby-chic Kitchen Table in Lancaster County

Earlier this year — February, to be exact — Aunt Bertha paid Hubby and I a visit. She’d never been to Warrenton, so I got to show her around town, introduce her to some of my friends, show off all of my projects, and take her to a number of my local thrift store haunts.

Aunt Bertha and Me

She told me she’d been looking for some new kitchen chairs. The ones she had were too tall and cut into the back of her legs when she sat on one for any extended period of time. We didn’t find any while she was here, but I told her I’d keep my eyes open for her.

A few months later, I went to the Fauquier Habitat for Humanity’s ReStore and saw what looked to be the perfect size chairs. They were old (I’m guessing late-60s or early 70s), dirty, and ugly. But they were comfortable, were made of solid wood, and they only cost $20 each. Only three were available, but Aunt Bertha had another chair already that she said she could use.

First, I told her I couldn’t paint them. Then I decided I could, but it would be a while before I got to them. I have far too many projects in the queue!

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One of the chairs, after being cleaned.

When I told her I’d paint the chairs for her, she asked if I would paint her table to match. And that fourth chair.

I told her yes, and said I’d paint a couple of the chairs here at home then take them up to her house, which is just outside of Lancaster, PA, and spend a long weekend there painting the other stuff. She lives very close to Dad, so that would give me an opportunity to visit, too.

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The table and her old chairs, before.

The difference in the chair after a couple coats of Old White Annie Sloan Chalk Paint (ASCP) was quite dramatic.

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Old White Annie Sloan Chalk Paint

It looked so much better, I could have easily stopped there. But to me, the real fun is in the details.

Yes, the details made the project take much, MUCH longer, but I wanted to do it right. I wanted Aunt Bertha to have a kitchen set she could really be proud of.

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Chair with details compared to plain wood.

I forgot to do a before and after shot until after I’d already started painting the second chair.

This past Saturday, I loaded up the car and headed North. I wasn’t there long before we dove into painting the other two chairs and the table.

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Me, hard at work.

Aunt Bertha, who turns 68 in February, helped a lot. I put her to work painting one of the chairs and then the table. Once everything had the Old White base coat, I gave her some quick training and then put her to work waxing. I feel horrible that I forgot to get shots of Aunt Bertha at work.

She really was a very big help. I could never have finished without her. What I thought could be done by Monday night, ended up taking until Tuesday. If she hadn’t done so much work, we would never have finished.

I didn’t paint the whole time I was up there, I visited with Dad and Aunt Pearl, too. And I actually worked from Aunt Bertha’s house on Monday.

I am horrible at estimating how long these painting projects will take.

Aunt Bertha’s cat, Missy, who she just adopted about seven months ago, really watched me closely the whole time I was there.

Missy
Missy

Finally, late Tuesday afternoon, the project was finished.

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Aunt Bertha’s newly upcycled table and chairs.

After finishing the first chair here at home, I told Aunt Bertha she was going to have the coolest, up-cycled, shabby chic dining set in all of Lancaster County. She was quite tickled when she saw the painted chairs for the first time. And we are both very pleased at the final, end result.

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Details

 

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Details

We’ve both been kicking ourselves for not taking a picture of that fourth chair she’d already owned. A chair which my Dad had given her. Previously, it had belonged to my maternal grandfather (born around 1915?). It was originally a rocking chair, but my grandfather had cut the rockers off of the chair, which he always kept beside his bed. Most likely, it was already old when he got it. We’re pretty sure it is Black Locust, which is a very hard wood.

Before we applied paint, the chair was a really, really dark, walnut brown. Now, it’s much brighter.

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Old, orphan chair.

The “new” dining set brightens the whole kitchen. And remember what I said about details? For some projects, adding details is what really make a piece or pieces special.

We distressed this chair a bit more than the others.

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Details add an extra special touch.

And while watching Missy watching me, I had an epiphany. I thought she might enjoy helping. I wasn’t sure how Aunt Bertha would feel about it, but promised I’d do the dirty work in case it really pissed Missy off.

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I had to assist a bit…

Missy’s paw prints will forever be seen on the seat of this chair.

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Missy’s special touch.

So, there you have it. What do you think?