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September In Photos.

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. . . .
September In Photographs

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. . . .

Soap collage
Top to Bottom, Left to Right: Oatmeal & Tupelo Honey, Lick Me All Over, Shades of Grey, and Lavender & Rosemary Shampoo Bar.

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.

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I changed my mind. Winter is NOT my favorite season anymore. The ice, the cold, as of last week, I’m over it.

But when the bout of wintry weather that we had last week was first forecast, I was excited. I mean, snow! How often do we get any snow in Alabama? It’s about as rare here as a heat wave in Siberia. Those, we’re much more familiar with.

By the time it actually arrived and I had landed flat on my backside for the umpteenth time in what ended up being a light dusting of snow covering a thick layer of ice (Ice is slippery, who would’ve guessed it?). . . Well, that’s when I learned a very valuable lesson. Winter weather is not all it’s cracked up to be, and I’m in total and complete awe of those of you in more northerly climes who deal with it all the time. How do you do it?

But I did manage to stay upright long enough to get a few pictures to share.

This is what we woke up to on Wednesday morning.

The ducks didn’t know what to think, at first, but they quickly warmed up to it.

The dogs had varying reactions. . . Bryony loved it from the start (She would have been happy to stay outside all day long). Hunter, not so much. Potty trips were a nightmare for him.

While the goats and Mose the donkey were like me. They took one look at all the white stuff on the ground and went back to their houses to wait on breakfast and warm water. Which proves, they’re a lot smarter than me.

And a few more pictures:

Icicles on Tuesday. I’m a tiny bit of a Spelling Nazi (and completely annoying, too), but I had to use spell check on that word. I mean, it’s not very often that I’ve had to type the word icicles.

From the bottom of our hill on Wednesday.

The courthouse downtown on Thursday.

The birds lazing about on Thursday.

Our frozen pond also on Thursday.

By the weekend, temps were back in the 60s-70s. Yep, that’s our crazy Alabama weather.

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Terrible Twos. . . No More.

After Mose’s birthday back in September, he went from being our sweet, polite little guy to being as stubborn as a. . . well, as a donkey. He must’ve overheard that his birthday post was entitled “Terrible Twos” (instead of “The Wonderful, Gorgeous Baby Turns Two”, which is I’m sure what he would’ve preferred), and said to himself, “Terrible?!? I’ll show you terrible, woman!” And he did.

Or maybe not terrible, so much as, stubborn and very hard of hearing (I swear, he needs to borrow Grandma’s hearing aides, although she probably wouldn’t go for that).

Anyways, right after the big move over to the new larger enclosure with the attached smaller pen (that I call the nighttime pen), is when it really all started. Before the move, Mose was always ready to be put up at night and most of the time he was waiting for me at the gate. After the move. . .eh, not so much. The girls are absolute angels . . . at 5pm (4pm, now that the time moved back) every day they’re patiently waiting at the gate to the nighttime pen, eager to be let in. Meanwhile, Mose is doing this:

Do you see him? You don’t? How about now?

No matter the calling, cajoling, and feed bucket rattling, Mose wouldn’t even lift his head to say ,”Boo,” at me. So, every evening I’d walk down the hill, around the pond, and then lead him back on the return trek at a snail’s pace, stopping to grab a bite to eat all along the way (which may be one of the reasons why we’ve had several questions if Mose is pregnant. . . He’s not, I swear to you even though he does look it from certain angles. Buy if he is, I’m contacting Ripley’s 😉 ). Back to the subject at hand. If you’ve never led a donkey somewhere that they don’t want to go, let me enlighten you in three words. . . It. Ain’t. Easy.

But all of that has changed now. He’s been a complete angel the last couple of weeks, and do you know what? Some days he actually beats the girls up to the gate. I don’t know what made him change his mind. Maybe it’s the cooler weather, the shortening days, and he’s ready for bed a little earlier. Or just maybe he realized December isn’t too far off and he doesn’t want to be on a certain jolly, red loving fellow’s naughty list lest he end up with nothing under the tree. No matter the reason, I’m just happy that my polite donkey has made a return. Even if it’s only a short lived return.

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Terrible Twos.

Can you believe it was two years ago today that little Mose was born? I can’t.

He was a cute little rascal, wasn’t he? <3 Sometimes, it’s hard to believe he was ever that small, but, you know what? He’s still just as much of a baby. We even still call him ‘The Baby’ 🙂

He’s just about as spoiled as any donkey can get, and knows that he has me wrapped around his finger hoof. My mother told me the other day, “If you could, you’d bring him inside, wouldn’t you?” But I do have some limits. . . sort of. Okay, let’s face it, she’s probably right.

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Lazy Sunday.

After the excitement of our new girls’ arrival and making sure they were nursing (they weren’t at first, but are now), today was a nice lazy day for us and the animals.
Mose enjoyed grazing in the high grass around the pond. Hasn’t he grown into such a big boy? He’ll be two years old next month, and it’s hard to believe he was ever so small that we could pick him up.

Verity and I enjoyed a short break on the bench beside the pond. Did you know Mose and Verity have become fast friends? It’s an odd friendship – a dog and a donkey – but they get along well. When Verity and I go on our walks, Mose always comes up to her to say hi.

Tulip taking a relaxing mud bath. With as hot as it’s been, I’m tempted to join her one day 😉
Guineas in the middle of a long grooming session. I’m not entirely sure why, but the guineas have been spending the most time in the doe pen with the goats. Maybe it has something to with eating up all of the little bits and pieces of food the goats drop.