Looking through the photos I took in September, I realized I didn’t take that many.
A little advice, which is totally related to the above statement. . . . if you’re allergic to, oh, let’s say peanut dust (I know, it’s such a weird allergy, right?), possibly the worst place you could ever live is south Alabama. During fall.
In other words, peanut picking time. There aren’t enough antihistamines in the whole world to make September and October my favorite time of year.
Except I do love fall decorations. And fall food. And pumpkins. And college football. And, yeah, even fresh boiled peanuts.
And my birthday is in October. So, maybe I do like this time of year a little bit even if I do look like a sneezing, red eyed, sniffling hot mess.
But that’s for another day. Another post. Let’s get back to the topic at hand. . . .
If you’ve been following this blog for a while, then you’ve most likely heard plenty about farm poodle, Bryony. And believe me, there is plenty more I could tell you about Bry (my absolutely, without a doubt spoiled to the brim dog).
Like, for instance, that I picked up 19 dog toys off the floor the other day Count ’em 19! I seriously need to teach her to put them back on her own 😉 But enough about my spoiled dog.
You may not know that I also have two Weimaraners: Remy and Hunter. My gray ghost dogs.
Hunter is my old guy, and turned eight years old in September.
And while, he was much more, uh, precocious than even Bry in his younger days. Yeah, precocious. . . . that makes it totally sound funny and cute, doesn’t it?
It wasn’t. At the time. It is, now. We’re talking Chew City. Nothing was off limits to my precocious little guy.
But Hunny’s mellowed out over the years into a very polite, quiet gentleman, and mostly spends his spare time practicing his favorite hobbies:
And catching some Zzzzzs.
Followed by, “Who can nap with you taking pictures of them, Ma?”
Mose also had a birthday last month. Three years ago our very spoiled donkey (who’s always ready for a selfie and acts more like a cross between a goat and a really big dog most days) entered this world early one morning.
The boy goats, meanwhile, are in rut. Big time! Which, if you’re not familiar with goats, just means that they’re acting like a bunch of hormonal, obnoxious, extremely smelly, lip curling teenagers that are concerned with one thing and one thing only. Girls. More specifically girl goats.
This is the time of year that I try not to touch the boys or honestly, even get too near them if I don’t have to. And only if I have old clothes on. And I’m not going anywhere special in the next day or two. The short and sweet of it. . . . they stink. And whoever said farming is glamorous?
In other goaty news, soap has been on the agenda lately. Lots of soap. . . .
Check out the ombre action going on with Shades of Grey. How cool is that?
All four of the above soaps, along with a couple more, will be listed in our Etsy shop this week.