Perfect Form....

Friday, March 18, 2011


Its a fluffy kind of day here on our farm.

The temperature is supposed to reach 70 degrees. The sun is shining, the wind is pretty tame, and the mud is trying to dry up.

Meet Pouf, one of our many farm cats.

Pouf is a very fluffy kitty. She's almost grown, and she likes to go under my feet when I get home from work at night and trip me right into the mud.

Yes, this innocent looking creature really wants me dead.

Just kidding, she just wants food. ALL THE TIME.

Kind of like my boys. Most of our conversations follow this pattern....

Me:"Hi guys! Did you have a good time?"

Them:"Yep, do you have anything to eat?"

Me:"So what did you do?"

Them:"Nothing much. So where's the food, mom?

Me:"Hang on a minute, you never told me what you thought of what you did!"



Them:"Wait, What?"

Did I mention everything on the farm, including the dogs are male?

The horses are male, the steers are male, the deer is a male.

Cheyenne and I. We are it. Female.
This little Pouf is probably female too.

That would explain the fluffiness anyway!!

Love, me

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Our Beloved Truck... Part 3

So you know by now we sell hay for a living.

Our hay truck has ideas of it's own, but we scold it and bring it back into the light.

About two weeks ago, our 3rd oldest son, Jake took a load of hay to the auction for us. Riding shotgun was our 3rd youngest son, Wade.

Everyone at the auction was talking about the DOT checkpoint. Maybe many of you know of it as a weigh station. It's where the department of transportation decides they are going to randomly weigh trucks to make sure they're not overweight, and they just might decide to perform a complete inspection of your truck. You know, for your safety of course. And for your money. Yes, I'm convinced, it's all for your money, to take up your time, and because they have nothing better to do. 

Okay, I know it's their job, good grief, you've got a 20yr. old, and a 16yr. old in a farm truck who should have went around the checkpoint, but didn't because we didn't warn them of this, and they were just following the rules.

Our oldest calls to tell his dad the truck is being inspected.


I mean, we really weren't worried, our truck was just newly inspected, with a spanking brand new inspection sticker to boast about.

A $135.00 fine later, with the truck sitting there because they wouldn't let the boys drive it home, it "had" to be inspected AGAIN and a paper signed to even drive the thing, we were stumped. Jake argued with the inspection officer who said since a part of the truck was wet with oil, it must be leaking. Jake put his finger on the top of the part that holds the oil that was "supposed to be leaking" and guess what?? It was full. BUT because there was another part that was wet, "it was leaking".

When in doubt, call in the big guns.

Not excatly, but we put in a call to our son, Dane who works at Gotwal's and that's the only place we could think of at the moment with a wrecker big enough to pick up our truck.

Dane's boss sent one of his co-workers in the wrecker while Dane followed in another vehicle to go get the truck and boys. How nice was that?

You don't find many people who would just let your son drop everything he was working on and send another employee to go get your kids and hay truck.

We feel blessed to know such a wonderful company.

We are also blessed to only have a $135.00 fine. The guy next to the boys? He had $1800.00 worth of brakes out of adjustment. 

It's always nice to have friends!!

Love, me

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Our Bad, Bad Hay Truck ..........part 2.

Our second oldest son works for Gotwal's.

There's three parts to Gotwal's. They have Brookledge, which is a cross country horse hauling operation, Gotwal's shop which fixes all the tractor trailers, and Expressway which is the regular hauling part of Gotwals.

There's also shops in Kentucky, and Florida.

Our son, Dane loves working for Gotwals. He loves driving tractor trailer, hauling horses, and working in the shop fixing things.

I like Gotwals because it's in Oley, where my Grandma and Grandpa used to have a small farm with a creek that had a bridge my Grandfather built by himself.  The same place I learned to drive a small tractor with a roller on the back to roll the meadow flat. Then I eventually started singing on the tractor, and put my foot down which the tire caught and I had to shut off the tractor because I was trapped and screaming. I haven't driven a tractor since.

Getting back to the story, Gotwal's had a couple of trees down that they offered to Dane if he hauled them away for firewood. We burn wood for heat. We also have 20 acres of our own woods, but Dane told them we'd take it. Trust me, we're thankful for it.

My husband and the boys took the hay truck to pick up the wood.

On the way home, my husband stopped for fuel in Fleetwood. The boys watched this Fleetwood cop circle around the gas station, and eventually stop across the street in a parking lot facing the road, ready to pull out.

They guys fueled up, pulled out of the gas station, and the nice Fleetwood police officer pulled them over.

Figures, our truck just can't get enough attention.

The cop was trying to tell my husband that he couldn't haul wood with a farm license plate. Ummmm, wood is a commodity, and we CAN haul it legally Mr. Officer Sir. Yes, we sell wood sometimes, why?  It is perfectly legal.

Then the officer felt he had to let my husband know the law and what he could and could not haul with his hay truck that has a farm license plate. You know, the farmer that has been farming all his life, yes, he needed to know that. Thank you officer.

He's watching you!!

Love, Me

P.S. I have yet another story about our rogue hay truck, tune in tomorrow for hopefully our last installment of the big bad truck.

Monday, March 14, 2011

We have this farm truck............

For our truck's safety, I can't post any pictures.

Our hay truck is in a line-up.

It was accused of a hit and run by another person.

Oh dear, how will we ever tame our truck? I mean, it's old enough, it was born in 1986. We adopted it about 5 years ago. We love and cherish our truck, we even gave it a new flatbed.

This is how it treats us...........

We get a phone call from a police officer (who was not too nice at all) letting us know our truck was involved in a hit and run.

Our reaction......"what planet is he from?"

My dear husband calls him back and I hear him say "Sir, could you please tell me what this is about?".

The officer really didn't want to discuss it over the phone, telling my husband that he should know and he wants our truck at his barracks the next morning at nine a.m.


To make  long story short, we didn't take the truck in because he was threatening to press charges against us but not willing to let us know why.

When in doubt, always talk to the State Cop you sell hay to.

After we consulted with him, we politely called back and told them we wouldn't be bringing in our truck, besides, we had hay to load and auctions to go to.

-A mortgage to pay...
-Groceries to buy...
-Fuel to purchase...
-Shoes to put on the children's bare feet because they outgrew their boots.

You get the picture? This truck plays a big part in helping us make a living. If we can't sell the hay, we can't pay for anything. Which means, we will have to sell the farm, and live out of our Kia for the rest of our lives. Wait, we can't even all fit in the Kia together. {{{{shutter}}}}

A day after we were supposed to take our truck in, a State Cop showed up at our house. She was the nicest person. We talked for awhile. She wanted to check out our truck for signs of damage that would put it at fault for "scratching " this person's car.

Guess what?  The truck was at the auction.

We called her when the truck came home for her to inspect. She came, she inspected, she pet the deer and took pictures of him, and left.

Think it's over?? You know better than that.

About 6:00p.m. on the same day, another officer showed up, this time from the original barracks that was accusing us of the hit and run.  He never got the earlier cop's report, so he decided to come check it out for himself.

He checked, he took pictures, he pet the deer, he took pictures of the deer, he told us what nice people we are and he couldn't see anything on our truck lining up with the damage of the accusing vehicle.

He left, and we haven't heard anything since.

I'm hoping it's over, but the one lesson I learned from this is.........

It's always good to have a pet deer on your farm when police officers visit!
Love, Me

P.S. Tune in tomorrow to see how our truck is turning over to the dark side..........It's become a cop magnet lately!!