tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1284307779632359322024-03-13T08:53:12.787-07:00From My Bedroom Windowa view into my gardenFarm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128430777963235932.post-35456960690072425442010-09-04T08:21:00.000-07:002010-09-04T08:21:53.912-07:00So heres the deal . . . I was given a new camera for mother's day. This one is supposed to <strike>idiot proof </strike>easy for me to understand. But the problem I found isn't with the camera (I have been able to <em>take</em> the pictures just fine) it is something that happens, or should say doesn't happen, between the camera and the computer. I know I am to blame. It<em> is</em> my fault, so if it's to be fixed it is completely up to me to do so. The issue I have is I am running out of ideas of how to get that done. I have had my husband, my daughter, and I'm embarrassed to say I have even paid someone to help me - but it just doesn't click.<br />
I CAN NOT DOWNLOAD/UPLOAD (whatever!) MY PICTURES!<br />
I have one solution but I am afraid is like waiting for a cure for the common cold (probably won't happen in my life time). Have you ever bought anything from Ikea? Everything you have to put together comes with these uber easy to understand directions. Basically they are little stick people taking you step by step through the entire procedure. The print is huge, the steps numbered and if you get stuck you just call for help. Think 'manual for a kindergartner's crayola box'. Brilliant!<br />
Now in contrast to the wonderful Ikea example I have given you this is what my manual looks like.<br />
**(*^%%&^$^%**(%$%S$_()*%&**T%$Y&&&*EW@%&G^%EDF**&HG%<br />
Seriously, I am toast. And this blog may just become a casualty. Sad. I would of rocked as a 80s women, but I'm not holding my own very well in 2010. Any suggestion? Remember keep 'em simple!Farm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128430777963235932.post-13778031914614006972010-09-04T07:41:00.000-07:002010-09-04T08:26:01.956-07:00The Fruits of My Labor (literally)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeVtSiCvDX_BALB6Llzun4yD25dkO8VQZgCA98vxgn1TxM-FM4Ji-LGS7l97ltwGHOhWCegl0yaS2sUxmARmNSsY_GWTJMIHzsTKNbnXXmCy4yHznrxsix3AZSFPmXRDdtMDhLq2zXAm0/s1600/DSCN0147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeVtSiCvDX_BALB6Llzun4yD25dkO8VQZgCA98vxgn1TxM-FM4Ji-LGS7l97ltwGHOhWCegl0yaS2sUxmARmNSsY_GWTJMIHzsTKNbnXXmCy4yHznrxsix3AZSFPmXRDdtMDhLq2zXAm0/s320/DSCN0147.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tomato Jam<br />
scoring 96% at the state fair. </td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWB-hsfnMu-IzOEvQdClrriOV82fKOb-cNRgCKHExXq_zsyDj2nSgwHD2MnPaufQsevOmIZ5HmOIhcYTVETAQveXvRGiprisQmgKFgpBJtJ3W8kbtBFVEnkSM95XwWAlhzqllfW4F-99I/s1600/DSCN0073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" bx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWB-hsfnMu-IzOEvQdClrriOV82fKOb-cNRgCKHExXq_zsyDj2nSgwHD2MnPaufQsevOmIZ5HmOIhcYTVETAQveXvRGiprisQmgKFgpBJtJ3W8kbtBFVEnkSM95XwWAlhzqllfW4F-99I/s320/DSCN0073.JPG" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my first berries. A proud moment.<br />
Actually one of my only berries. Still scratching my head on that one. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>Farm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128430777963235932.post-1718052765601703492010-06-20T07:10:00.000-07:002010-06-20T07:16:15.224-07:00FATHER'S DAY<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">I am not a real <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">farmgirl</span>. I am more like a 'wanna be' or a 'poser'. Now my dad - he is the real deal. He is a true farmer boy. Born and raised on an Iowa farm. Me - I was raised in the burbs. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Growing up I loved visiting my grandparents farm, snooping around the barn and begging to go down into the timber. I thought my grandparents had it made! So much of who I am today and especially what I value most comes from those 'farmer genes'. I can not begin to count all the ways it has influenced my life. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">My dad's life journey is an amazing one. I know everyone thinks their dad is the best but seriously my dad is! Thank you daddy for shaping and molding me into the urban <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">farmgirl</span> I am today. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhphgdjNs_ZBE81uPgmVoG-csgvvq0UgXgY7nmpwXVW6ANjGhwWkvKWJO8b_EjFVBbuW5DhAr_PG_DlkD1WP6PPHWa1Qu0VU3Gb1C-NNWH2wutK4_BEV4IIgiH9M1IZSAIyQXTElqfF7_A/s1600/papa+and+cow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhphgdjNs_ZBE81uPgmVoG-csgvvq0UgXgY7nmpwXVW6ANjGhwWkvKWJO8b_EjFVBbuW5DhAr_PG_DlkD1WP6PPHWa1Qu0VU3Gb1C-NNWH2wutK4_BEV4IIgiH9M1IZSAIyQXTElqfF7_A/s320/papa+and+cow.jpg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">This is my dad. The back of the photo reads 'Howard and Pansy, 1941'. When I asked my dad about Pansy he told me pure and simple - he loved that cow. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">(Pansy's fate will not be shared on this blog)</span>Farm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128430777963235932.post-40318332896229899752010-05-23T08:10:00.000-07:002010-05-23T11:20:30.287-07:00A PROPER PERSPECTIVEIt's funny how we all have certain routines. I start and end most every day the same way. I open my shutters and look out my bedroom window (usually with my toothbrush in hand) to get a first or last look at my garden for that day. This is done mostly out of habit I'm sure, since I'm pretty limited in what I can do with a foaming brush swirling away in my mouth, but I have also come to realize that I really enjoy the perspective it gives me.<br /><br /><br />From my bedroom window my garden always looks good. Because of the distance I am unable to see <em>any</em> flaws. I can not obsess over the weeds that have sprouted since the last rain, or the bunny who likes to nest in my strawberry patch. There are no signs of critters digging under the fencing or seedlings that refused to come up. In fact I can not even recall a time when I looked out and was not pleased with it's progress. It's like it is always waiting for me - and thankfully (for a distant view) holding it's own quit nicely!Farm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128430777963235932.post-90142405043573753352010-04-30T13:15:00.000-07:002010-05-01T05:31:42.548-07:00HAPPY MAY DAY!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDIbTQE6ytpZ0kHT-gWrrZk3qw6D9RXu1IDXP6g9ZFreXuSIKJu3Yp6RKdt_ndTdHDf13dgfZG-8KDvc8K4jKoSUcer1Xvwg1zZ780rFQn6DzFaxfa8BbS0GkOql88GNlDnmqqlZ6RWM/s1600/IMG_3083.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466090692267251394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioDIbTQE6ytpZ0kHT-gWrrZk3qw6D9RXu1IDXP6g9ZFreXuSIKJu3Yp6RKdt_ndTdHDf13dgfZG-8KDvc8K4jKoSUcer1Xvwg1zZ780rFQn6DzFaxfa8BbS0GkOql88GNlDnmqqlZ6RWM/s320/IMG_3083.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div>Don't you love the idea of some unknown person sending you a gift. Nothing brings a smile to my face quicker than a present. Seriously. Why do we stop doing all those fun things when we become grown ups? Isn't that when we need an unexpected bright spot in our lives the most. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Now I have to admit that I am the only one in my house that still makes May baskets. I don't even receive them but once in a blue moon. Once I opened the door to find the cutest vintage apron tied to my front door and my girlfriend's car quickly driving away. So <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">mischievous</span>! </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>For me today is filled with memories of friendship, flowers, sweets and giggles. I can't think of a better way to spend a day (even at my age). I hope you enjoy yours. Let me know if you receive any 'special deliveries'. Admiring your treasure while sharing the story was always 1/2 the fun!</div><div> </div><div><em></em> </div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Farm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128430777963235932.post-6861186335725007212010-04-23T14:07:00.000-07:002010-04-25T17:30:49.634-07:00IT'S RAINING, IT'S POURING. . .And this old girl has been snoring! There is just something about that deep sleep you fall into at the end of a physically challenging day (in this case week). My hubby and I have been working so hard (tilling, racking, weeding) that when I woke up and saw the rain coming down I was THRILLED! My "lazy" day has allowed me to get so many things done inside the house. Since I'm not completely sure just one day off is enough for my tired body to recoup I'm shamelessly hoping for rain again tomorrow. The weather man says my wish just might come true.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6cEaLTK0KG3EOaPT7Q1QyM1RG8MYDiKO4y9PHZIuCv9N0gReaOrdLNO026E_U3jWQztT-NBra2Yxgt2Mb7-rsC-tti-OrkGqK4vF7zGyxCrs0wAq8WXf3DuetsTmhm5Q11aXaqmjpHsY/s1600/round+2-05.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 317px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 211px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464162915919048050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6cEaLTK0KG3EOaPT7Q1QyM1RG8MYDiKO4y9PHZIuCv9N0gReaOrdLNO026E_U3jWQztT-NBra2Yxgt2Mb7-rsC-tti-OrkGqK4vF7zGyxCrs0wAq8WXf3DuetsTmhm5Q11aXaqmjpHsY/s320/round+2-05.JPG" /></a><br /><br />I <em>did</em> find time this week (between my digging, snoring and pulling) to start my gardening journal. A few weeks back I purchased this lovely old and slightly tattered binder from JB Knacker in Gilbert, Iowa. A friend of mine from Ames makes them by cleverly repurposing and altering vintage finds. They are each so unique and special I was hoping I'd find <em>just the right thing</em> to use mine for . . . . and what do you know- another wish granted! </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464164818043052002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwf_DKsD9KA8V7LxySSmiG_cmexjpUI9tde6dxiJVAlj7Gi2rcOZ6NHGDOblHtzOpV8-GiH_IgBtdsgZ-81bZ-bXDzCPdruKpoT7-9DU7oxLFGyHIh3206tXIHDfbwa0EpszU0RP_1Aw/s320/IMG_3091.JPG" /> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464164670555470898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeTUGlvQ-4hLEhdbzB2bSXI5yYSvDsmut9Z8l5Cd72BPMZMHA4Va-JJwWLPjTBpph0PE-bZr96DFoAPtfN28U02H4FT0uWbNbVhUUFsYphjGhPJ9-P4a0ngrr21mTvqya3yLh5KH90GyI/s320/IMG_3085.JPG" /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><p>Just a side note: JB Knacker is one of my favorite little shops in central Iowa. If you find charm in the well worn and shabby this place is so worth the drive up with a few girlfriends. I always come home with a treasure or two. I have a few other favs I will be sharing with you over the next few weeks. Spring time is always JUNKIN' TIME.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><p><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Farm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128430777963235932.post-42573983432428817592010-04-15T13:56:00.000-07:002010-04-16T08:36:52.724-07:00WHAT DOES MARTHA REALLY KNOW?Apparently more than I was willing to give her credit for, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">that's</span> for sure. I always saw Martha Stewart as a Saturday Night Live skit. Nothing to actually take seriously - just someone to poke fun at now and again. Yes, secretly I always wished my closets looked like hers but I wasn't about to schedule it on my calendar every other month to make sure it got done.<br /><br />Now <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">here's</span> the rub: Maybe we aren't supposed to <em>become</em> Martha Stewart, (lets face it one is probably enough) but occasionally learn a thing or two from her instead. This concept would sure make us feel less inept. I know I would view my rumpled linen closet in a different light. <br /><br />I do know that if I had followed her lead, as well as the advice of EVERY single gardening book, I would have started a journal/calendar last year. What seemed so unnecessary to me a year ago now sounds something like this in my head "what kind of <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">idiot</span> doesn't have a gardening journal"? Madness I say. <br /><br />Fear not - the beauty of a garden - as well as a lesson my father has told me about many times is: you learn more from your failures than you will every learn from your victories.<br /><br />So on that note I am starting my journal - complete with a calendar page! May my inner Martha shine!Farm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128430777963235932.post-46201205974870544352010-04-05T10:24:00.000-07:002010-04-11T10:47:13.337-07:00HOW MY GARDEN ALL BEGAN<div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Last year I started a project that I had been tossing around for years. The tossing was due mostly to courage (or lack of) and a fear of failing. My history with "new ideas" is not that promising. I tend to be overly exuberant at first - which I think of as the honeymoon faze - and then as the hard work sets in I find that the thrill is over and I get that 7 year itch (sometimes within days of returning from the honeymoon). </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">husband</span> is a good, kind and patient man and he has seen me through some real <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">doozies</span>. Like the time he went out of town and I decided to take down 1/2 the kitchen cabinets (I watch too much <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">HGTV</span>) or the summer I recruited our then 11 year old to help me renovate our 90 year old basement. Each and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">every time</span> my man comes (visually I like to think of him galloping in on a white horse) to grabs my hand and rescue me from my seemingly endless mess. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Each and every "mess" is totally self inflicted - So, when I wanted to turn our unusable clay tennis court into a garden I didn't think I had enough life lines left to ask him to come on board. But as I have already mentioned he is a really great man and with out even reminding me of past ventures that went <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">awry</span> we began digging our garden last spring. </div><br /><div></div><div></div><br /><div></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyg67SoIO3HiJewZs4UjukgFg6mEUULjjdHmfsn6ubIVY4KUiZBvOWzJ3tEyO-G5mUNr_wkUyvffb-fm-tajulf1cQQp2JP8zKR-_BWJN4l40uLT-IIY57OundcPWVJ_dLzRhd0FEAh1s/s1600/_DSC0004.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458934799572575234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyg67SoIO3HiJewZs4UjukgFg6mEUULjjdHmfsn6ubIVY4KUiZBvOWzJ3tEyO-G5mUNr_wkUyvffb-fm-tajulf1cQQp2JP8zKR-_BWJN4l40uLT-IIY57OundcPWVJ_dLzRhd0FEAh1s/s320/_DSC0004.JPG" /></a> This blog is about all the lessons I have learned, failures I sure didn't expect, and the amazing amounts of joy my garden as allowed me to experience. </div><br /><br /><div> </div><div><br /> </div><div>My garden in April: From my bedroom window</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br /><div></div>Farm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-128430777963235932.post-4469952297488978792010-04-03T08:45:00.000-07:002010-04-25T15:10:12.741-07:00SPRING HAS SPRUNG!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOpWjVXjNotj6Kl3fmKLH7NTIe0yeENjXRr_9s977Q5r9x5zW8t6FDL1NVmOSLT5zKTc9SkQOe68gR7EuJMcAC33O_tBQenX1qFQ_blf5Cn1HTKSBIb6zqWiDxaRC9vwcS2WYOvMxkRU/s1600/_DSC0007.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458932232083368994" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizOpWjVXjNotj6Kl3fmKLH7NTIe0yeENjXRr_9s977Q5r9x5zW8t6FDL1NVmOSLT5zKTc9SkQOe68gR7EuJMcAC33O_tBQenX1qFQ_blf5Cn1HTKSBIb6zqWiDxaRC9vwcS2WYOvMxkRU/s320/_DSC0007.JPG" /></a><br /><br />It is spring finally here in Iowa. I know this not just because it is the beginning of April but by the singing of the birds and the small buds forming on the trees. I have waited - not so patiently I must confess for the heavy layers of snow to melt away so I can get a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">glimpse</span> of my garden that I started last year. This being the first winter for my plantings I must admit to being more than a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">little</span> concerned for their <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">safety</span> - the snow fall was brutal this year and made worse by the layers of ice that seemed to proceed every significant pounding of snow.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><p></p><br /><br />I am so happy to report that my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">boxwood</span></span> are beautiful and my losses (4 bushes) are minimum. I will happily take those few <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">causalities</span> since I am fairly certain they are more from the drainage issues of last summer than the brutality of the winter storms. But my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">successes</span></span> don't stop there: my strawberries plants are alive and without uncovering them from their protective blanket of straw prematurely I think they look amazing! I am so impressed by their ability to weather the harshness of the winter. They seem so <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fragile</span></span> out there, where everything else is brown and bleak they are showing vibrant shades of green.<br /><br />Year two is going to be exciting!!!Farm Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17613868260844307176noreply@blogger.com0