Legend of the Moon Ring
Switzerland has weather sniffers. Punxsutawney has Phil. Around here, we have the Old Timer up the road who has a cat name Mr. Sh*thead and hates everyone.
Dear Diary
Dear Diary: Quarantine Day 347. I think it’s Friday. Or maybe it’s Saturday… could be Tuesday. Just finished my 8,952nd load of laundry. Cloroxed all the groceries. I think I’ll go build a castle out of toilet paper rolls.
Psst… I haven’t worn real clothes in weeks
I was never one for fashion. My wardrobe consists of “good” jeans and t-shirts and “chore” jeans and t-shirts. Now, weeks into the quarantine, my everyday fashion routine has devolved into changing from my “nighttime” pajamas to my “daytime” pajamas and vice versa.
Welcome to the “50’s Club”
Unlike many of my friends, I have never fretted over becoming a year older. I seamlessly transitioned from one year to the next without a bump in the birthday road. I aspired to the thought that age is just a number and nothing more, and so, my 50th birthday came and went without much vexation.…
Farm Rules
Rule 1: Do not complain that the barn “stinks.” Poop smells. You know it… I know it… even the cows know it.
Phil, you dirty ‘ole bast*rd
In my neck of the woods, we’re used to snow… and lots of it. We’re used to biting winds and grey skies. We’re used to slippery back roads. We’re used to frozen fingers and frostbitten noses. We’re used to plowing the barnyard with the tractor at 2am and chiseling frozen cow sh*t from the barn…
Can’t get my sh*t together
Lately, I’ve lost my shit. And it seems to be ALL over. And try as I might, I can’t get my shit together. Just when I have most of it scooped up and in a bucket and I think I’m on the verge of getting my shit together… the bucket springs a leak, and then…
WARNING: Adult Language
Me: It’s huge. It’s too big. STOP! The Farmer: You wanted it. Me: I didn’t think it was this freakin’ big. The Farmer: Just push it in and stop complaining. Me: I’m not complaining! I just don’t think it’s gonna slide in easy. The Farmer: Just give it a good shove. Me: You’re stronger… you…
The Meno-pocalypse hot flash
Understanding the Meno-pocalypse Hot Flash in 10 easy steps
Winter weary
Here’s the story… It’s April 20th and it’s still snowing in my neck of the woods. Not flurries, but measurable S.N.O.W. Enough snow that school was delayed. Enough snow to cover the green spring grass. Enough snow that the animals said screw this sh*t and wouldn’t come out of the barn today. April has been a…
The toilet paper made me do it
When, during the course of my trial, the prosecution asks why I did it… please make sure the jury sees this photo.
Oh, h*ll no!
I officially quit winter! If you need to find me… I will be drunk, somewhere on a tropical beach, wearing nothing but sunscreen.
The icy grip of Mother Nature
Nor’easter #3 brought frigid temperatures and high winds, but thankfully, only about eight inches of snow this time. Schools once again closed and the plows spent most of the day running back and forth along the roads clearing the snow drifts. Since it’s no use trying to fight Mother Nature, I decided to embrace the…
Phil, you’re an a**hole
After weeks and weeks of subzero temperatures, ice, sleet and howling snowstorms, we all had our fingers crossed that Mr. Punxsutawney Phil would give us hope with his annual prognostication. Instead, that nefarious rodent dashed all our early spring dreams and handed down a sentence of another six weeks of winter. And to ensure his…
BRAmageddon Part III – Busty and Gusty
The morning started out with a slight breeze. The flag at the barn danced gracefully in the wind. The hay in the field gently swayed. A few leaves tumbled from the oak trees. Even the cows were blissfully unaware of the bad weather on the horizon. Lately, our local weatherman has consistently missed the mark…
The Farmers in the Dell 