These ghosts made out of chicken wire were one of my first discoveries on Pinterest. I messed around with chicken wire for the Dancing Ghost Bride, and it was trickier than I thought it would be. They are beautiful, ethereal, and I want to make four of them at least, using real pajarigirls for the forms. I’d love to have the whole backyard filled with non-creepy dead people in foofy dresses.
Finding the original source has been tricky, and this is as close as I’ve gotten:
If you’re raising your hand (because you fell behind,) here’s Part One.
Long story short, Mr. Stinky Droolface seemed to be in good spirits today around lunchtime. Got him to eat, and he still insists the water bucket outside tastes much better. He isn’t using his right hind foot much, but he made the rounds, checking on Little Bit the pony, Jai the Ginormous White Slobbering Dog, and finally settling himself in a sunbeam near GusGus.
Maybe it’s just me, but it seems Stinky’s telling the puppies important dog things. I hope so. Like reminding the Herd that the ruminants belongs IN the fence, unless they are on a leash like Little Bit.
There are so many great pics of all the creatures of The Funny Farm, I decided to try a slideshow:
“‘Not a morning person’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.” I woke up thinking someone was knocking on my door, but it was a woodpecker outside and directly above my bed. I knocked back and yelled, and tried to go back to sleep. Every time I almost dozed off the hungry little SOB came back. Part of me (the angry-tired-achy-arthritic-tired-tired part) wanted to shoot it. But the boy has taken up birding. He gets so excited anytime something with wings is around.
So finally I grabbed a gun and fired a round into the gravel pit. The echo worked. And now I’m awake. Because I wasn’t wearing pants and it’s cold and snowy outside.
Did I mention it’s PMS week? That’s like shark week, only scarier. And there are four of us Pajarigirls. (PIE-ree gurlz)
Please don’t let me leave work today without suet and pms formula. Ammo is expensive.
The Employee of the Month aka Neighbor of the Year
“Stinky’s getting to be a Grampa Dog,” my sister pointed out two years ago when gray started showing in his muzzle and he started limping like me on rainy days.
Impossible. In my head he is still a puppy. He’s 180 lbs of drooling, woofing, farting Mastiffosaurus Wrecks, so it’s not his size… I guess it’s because my son is still a boy, at 10 years old. They have grown up together, and I think that’s why it’s so hard for me to accept that his life is very nearly over.
Over the last few weeks, his knee had begun to swell, so Lois took him to the vet. It’s cancer, it’s growing very fast, and he is too old and arthritic for amputation to be an option. We are treating him for pain and inflammation, but the bones can’t take much more. Very soon, he’ll have to be put down.
I keep telling myself that dying is a part of living. That 8-10 years is the life expectancy of a large breed dog. This still sucks. So I reviewed the 5 Stages of Grief Model.
I believe Kübler-Ross is right; grieving is a process. It’s normal to be angry, try to “bargain” loss away, get depressed and/or accept it. Sometimes all in the same day. These stages don’t happen in order, one time each, and then go away.
I always thought denial was such a terrible thing. Then a few years ago someone very wise explained that denial is actually a very useful coping mechanism. It gives our minds and hearts a little time to catch up to reality. While part of me is saying, “No no no no nope. Not today. Forget it. NO storm. E-I-E-I-NO,” etc. another part of me is slowly accepting life on life’s terms. And one of those terms is that nothing lives forever.
Sometimes, people use this as a reason to not have pets (or relationships..been there!). And I can see why it’s tempting. Losing a pet is painful. Every time we lose an animal, part of me says, “Eff this; never again.” But that doesn’t last long. (Anger, lol 😉 ) The benefits of unconditional love far outweigh the inevitable pain of loss. Every time.
So I guess now it’s real. I’m gonna go rub his belly and let him slobber on my face and WOOF at my big purple hat because it scares him when we wear different clothes.
1. GoodParenting: Encourage spawn to clean their rooms more often by hiding a big one in their bed. Place it close enough to the top layer of detritus so they will see it. She still cusses and hits me when I bring it up. Tears still run down my leg when I remember that day…
2. Being a Good Sister: We TRIED to scare Lois and Bigguy by putting big fake spiders in the camp chairs they borrowed. She names the real-life huge hairy spiders on the Funny Farm…(Charlotte, of course.) I should have known this would flop. If your big sister is a big baby about spiders, try it. Note: This is not just a Halloween trick. More effective other times of the year, actually.
3. Being self-sufficient: Can and eat them.
Not really. Use an old jar, food coloring and plastic spiders to make a fast, cheap, and easy Halloween decoration.
5. Be a good wife. I found this one on Pinterest, too. This lady Delia is messing with her arachnophobic husband. She hot-glued spiders to magnets to show her love.
6. More good parenting: What little girl wouldn’t LOVE spiders all over her head?? We have some really cute spider rings at the Barn.
7. Good Housekeeping: I was doing something else with plastic spiders, and left one on the dryer by mistake. Startled me and the family a few times. Now I kind of keep the top of the dryer cleaned off so the spider shows.
8. Your turn. I’m almost out of ideas, and there are lots of spiders left. Leave a link or a comment with your great idea.
For four billion other great ideas, check out my Pinterest Boards. Most of the ideas are like what we Pajari girls eat: fast, cheap, and easy. And most of the supplies can be found at Cook Dollar Barn!
Poultry scares the living crap outta me. Too many negative experiences with geese, turkeys, roosters, and chickens as a child, I guess. (Did you know that chickens are the closest living relative to the T-Rex???) It’s not that an angry Charolais mama cow or a Belgian draft horse in training aren’t unnerving…but they can’t FLY. They don’t have creepy, naked, talon-y feet and BEAKS. They are too big to really sneak up on a girl.
My sister the Shrew tried to adopt two 3 year-old guinea hens from our friend Jacqueline in August. Or maybe one is a hen and one’s a rooster…whatever. That lasted all of about 15 minutes. In her defense, she thought they were properly contained, and Jai, the Ginormous White Slobbering Dog created a diversion by running off into the woods. While BigGuy (Shrew’s husband), the Shrew, Danny Boy and I were running/driving around the neighborhood looking for Jai, GusGus (Walli the Corgi’s little brother) evicted them from the barn.
After a night or two we were pretty sure a fox, coyote, wolf or logging truck had done them in. I was relieved, to say the least. Birds are FOOD, not friends. Then neighbor Elsie called Lois to ask if she was missing some funny-looking, big, gray and white birds. Neighbors always call Lois when strange creatures appear at their homes. (Itchy the pony was under Barb’s deck once, and the big horses went to Cook for coffee years ago.)
Lois rounded up a posse of friends and their children, complete with a roll of netting and landing nets. After a good bit of whining, I went to observe only. I had a gun, just in case, but didn’t really want to shoot the birds in front of other people’s children.
It ended up being a moot point; Guineas are like the Harrier aircraft we saw at the airshow this year– they can take off straight up. And then they blend like ninjas into the northern MN swamp. I was pretty sure they would make their way to my house, to eat me in my sleep.
Over the next few weeks, they were spotted at three other neighbors’ houses. All attempts at capture were futile. At one point, Lois & Co. even tried guns and mirrors (Guineas are notoriously vain). She briefly had them back at the Funny Farm, locked in a horse trailer, hoping they would learn The Farm was now home. No good; they were back at Lori and Steve’s not a week later.
Just when I was hoping Mother Nature had disposed of them for me, I got a Facebook message from yet ANOTHER neighbor. We tried to give her the fowl for her birthday, but she didn’t buy it. Smart woman.
As soon as the neighbors saw that we would shoot them if we had to, to make the neighborhood safe, they decided the Guinea Fowl weren’t so bad. “What’s a little bird poo, weird noises, roosting on vehicles, and feathers compared to the benefits of the birds?” they asked. So they eat ticks. Yay. Ticks are gross, and deer ticks spread Lyme’s Disease. Eat ’em all, I say, but stay away from my house. I will spray us all with DEET instead. And keep the lawn mowed. Maybe even build a moat.
Why did the Guinea Monsters cross the road? Apparently Neighbor Carol feeds them and they like the company of her chickens. She LIKES them. Thinks they are cute, even. They come when she calls. I think we were all pretty ok with Prickles and Eggo (yes, Lois let Anthony name them-makes it even harder to shoot them.) living out their creepy birdy lives across the road.
But they like to roam.
What is GF Peaches looking at? Guinea Monsters in my Great Aunt Emily’s Rugosa roses. IN. MY. FRONT. YARD.
There is one other redeeming quality that has kept them alive thus far: they run like hell from me. Even when I’m not actually chasing them.
Today, however, I see that they dug up the sage I planted.
I know, I know, they didn’t actually damage the plant-they were just looking for bugs. But still. Poultry. Right next to my house. Sort of messing with my plants.
I wonder how long they would need to be in the slow-cooker to get rid of the gamey taste…
Very nice, informative article here. They really are great for gardening, if you can get over the whole bird thing. Feel free to post recipes, if not.
The Weekly Photo Challenge asked that we write about what “Big” means to us. I chose one of my sister’s dogs, Jai. He lives at The Funny Farm and is a rescued Great Pyrenees PUPPY (14 months, 120 lbs). Jai is short for Ginormous, White, Slobbering Dog. Think puppy brain in a pony-sized body….He digs BIG holes, runs BIG laps, needs BIG toys, and cleaning up after him is a BIG job.
Great Pyrs are bred to protect livestock. Lois is hoping he will help keep farm creatures IN the fence, and deer, coyotes and wolves OUT of the fence. These dogs are mostly nocturnal , gentle with children, and love to roam their territory. They are working dogs, but Jai takes naps, too. He’s just a baby.
Mr. Stinky Droolface, the Old English/Bull Mastiff Grampa dog of the farm is actually bigger than Jai. Stinky weighs about 180 lbs, but at 10 years old is slowing down considerably. When he was a puppy we called him the Mastiffosaurus Wrecks. At one point my physical therapist recommended I stop visiting my sister until he outgrew the puppy stage. He kept knocking me over by accident.
Of course Walli the Corgi refuses to be left out. She’s 6 months older than Jai, and one-tenth his size. And come to think of it, ten times the attitude. Size is relative.
There was this great idea I saw on Facebook…Cut eyes in toilet paper rolls and put a glow stick inside. Then hide them in the bushes for Halloween. I love the idea, but in northern MN, we have wind, rain, long nights, and usually snow this time of year.
It took a couple of weeks to figure out a way to make them Minnesota-proof , but the project came together with:
1. Driveway reflectors,
2. Gorilla Tape (everybody knows gorillas are stronger than ducks), painter’s tape, or masking tape, and
3. Black spray paint.
First we broke off the metal bugs, then cut desired eye shape from tape and placed it in center of reflector. Three light coats of spray paint later we had heavy-duty creepy eyes for the ditch. (We did this to both sides.) Once they were mostly dry, I peeled off the tape and ta-dah! Creepy eyes that glow every time a car goes by. (Feel free to wait until paint is completely dry if you are a firstborn and have lots of patience.)
There is a rogue asparagus gone wild next to the house, and it’s perfect for hiding the reflectors.
Another GREAT IDEA that’s fast, cheap and easy…brought to you by the Pajari girls. 🙂
Pajari: (Finnish, meaning smithy) pronounced PIE-ree in the USA, BYE-a-rrrree (I think-but since I can’t roll my rrrrrr’s, it’s kind of a moot point) in Finland. Also means we know how to pronounce SAUNA. SOW-nuh. Damn it.
A big thank-you to Don Simonson of www.cookmn.com for the great pics of Cook’s 1952 phone book 🙂