Monthly Archives: June 2012

Flag Day 2012 …

My creation

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Flag Day 2012 …

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You’re a grand old flag,
You’re a high flying flag
And forever in peace may you wave.
You’re the emblem of
The land I love.
The home of the free and the brave.
Ev’ry heart beats true
‘neath the Red, White and Blue,
Where there’s never a boast or brag.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
Keep your eye on the grand old flag.

(words by George M Cohan)


An Open Letter to Schleich Toy Company*

Dear Messers Paul Kraut and Erich Schefold, managing directors of Schleich Toys:

I am writing to you as a big fan of Schleich toys in general and your Farm Life range in particular. Your company’s philosophy is admirable and your attention to detail is unrivaled. I particularly love the breed-specific livestock, which are as lovely as they are accurately depicted.

I personally own an embarrassingly large collection of your farm figures, and Schleich toys are my go-to gift for children. I just don’t believe it’s possible to find toys of comparable quality, particularly at such a reasonable price point.

Which is why it saddens me greatly to tell you that I won’t be buying any more toys from Schleich in the foreseeable future. Not for my own collection, and certainly not for the children of my family and friends.
Here’s why:

Isn’t she great? Love the crocs. Love the kerchief. Love the basket of eggs. The problem is this:

“Our fun-loving farmer’s wife carefully takes a basket of eggs to the farm store. Afterwards, she has to go help the farmer feed the cows and chickens.”

See, she isn’t a farmer. This is the farmer. She’s the Farmer’s Wife. A farmer by Schleich’s definition is a man. Women can be horse carersgroomsstable girls, and stable girls with wheelbarrows. They can even be veterinarians (as can men, apparently). But, in spite of the fact that she shares a full fifty percent of her listed duties with the farmer, this woman is described by your company as the Farmer’s Wife.

I’ve got news for you, gentlemen. Gathering eggs and feeding animals? Those are the jobs of a farmer. And, as a farmer who happens to be female, I can assure you that the livestock doesn’t think twice about the gender of the person who cares for them.

Now, you may think that this doesn’t matter much, that the title of a character has nothing to do with the way in which children will utilize it in play, but you are wrong. Words matter. I am telling you this as a woman, a farmer, and — maybe most importantly — as one of your customers. Your title and description of the Farmer’s Wife is offensive. It tells me in no uncertain terms what you think of farmers who happen to be women. More importantly, it tells the little girls who love and play with your toys that the most they can aspire to in the world of agriculture is to be the lucky bride of a farmer.

The farmer’s wife may well be married to a farmer, but that does not make her any less a farmer in her own right.

It’s 2012. Women are growing the food you eat and the fibers that clothe you. They are tending crops. They are acting as stewards of the land. They are even gathering eggs and feeding chickens and cows. More than 300,000 of them operate farms across the U.S. alone and they’re the largest minority group in the agriculture industry.

They are called farmers and they deserve your respect.

Sincerely,
Susan Gibbs, Juniper Moon Farm

* This is a copy of a letter I sent to the managing directors of the Schleich company. I will let you know if I hear back from them.

Eeek squeek!

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Apparently, a little family of mice got into the basement and our girls have been working hard to bring it to our attention. Winnie brought up the first little critter which appeared to be juvenile but was old enough to have fur. The following morning Riley brought up a second critter. We had been keeping our trash on the bulkhead stairs which has been effective at keeping the racoons out of it but I suspect that’s the draw for the mice. Jason bought some new outdoor trashcans with bungee cords to keep the lids on and the trash is now outside. No more squeekies have been seen. Snap traps were considered and rejected, poison bait was considered and rejected. If there’s any indication of mice still lurking we’ll go for a “humane trap” as that will be safest for the kitties while still effectively removing the mice.

Do-Over

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A while ago, I interviewed my readers for a change, and my final question was, “What question have I NOT asked at BTT that you’d love me to ask?” I got some great responses and will be picking out some of the questions from time to time to ask the rest of you. Like now.

Sally asks:

Have you ever bought a book, started reading it and then realised you have already read it? If so, how far did you get? (Can you tell this happened to me for the first time ever this week!?!)

And–did you keep reading??

Don’t forget to leave a link to your actual response (so people don’t have to go searching for it) in the comments—or if you prefer, leave your answers in the comments themselves!


Some Garden Joy

Things in Dino Land have been a little stressful lately. Adjusting to working full-time again has been a battle. And then my computer has not been working very well. I am trying my best to make it until fall when I can potentially afford a new one. Lately, I have just been looking for a good way to relax. A big part of the homecoming-relaxation process is saying hello to my plant friends.

This is the view I get when I drive up.

The plants are growing noticeably every day. Today the cucumber plant climbed one whole little section higher on the trellis.

Then I go outside and luxuriate in the green.

Everything is taller than me now. (Bear in mind it’s planted four feet off the ground.) The smell of tomato plants is heavenly. I go out every day to breathe in their scent and check for any tiny tomatoes. No luck yet, but I am not completely fruitless.


A few little zucchini.


And the biggest of three cucumbers.

I feel really lucky to be able to grow a garden at all—and I look forward to this sight every day.

Pups Make Their Own Fun

When it’s a rainy day, and you’re a pup stuck indoors, what can you do?

My mom doesn’t want to play with me, and my brothers don’t want to play with me, and this person just wants to take pictures of me! This is the worst!

“I’m bored, too,” says Gnocchi.

“Mom wasn’t too happy with me when I tried chewing on her tail.”

“She didn’t like it when I did that, either.”

“Maybe I’ll just turn over this bucket and lie in it?”

Surprise attack!

And now everybody’s having fun!

Except maybe Lucy, who longs for her day of freedom, and is wondering why dog babysitting hasn’t been invented yet.

Whole lot’a spinnin’ going on

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It won’t be long before I’m ready to start the plying marathon. The rainbow singles will get Navajo-plied to preserve the color progression, the green merino/angora will become a 2-ply yarn and the brown is some BFL/alpaca that will be a 3-ply yarn. I’m nearly done with the third bobbin of that and then it will be time to start plying.

Serendipity

It never fails that the places and experiences I love most when traveling aren’t the carefully planned, well researched, guide-book-recommended must-sees. Oh, I do the planning and read all the books- I’m far too type-A to wing anything- but my favorite memories are always the things I stumble upon quite by accident while en route to the next thing on the list.

My trip to Paris last weekend was no exception. Having arrived 45 minutes early for an appointment (see type-A above) Carrie and I found ourselves wandering around an unfamiliar neighborhood before much of anything was open. In what can only be called destiny, our wandering took us to the doorstep of E. Dehillerin, my own personal Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.

E. Dehillerin is a restaurant supply house but it’s also a temple to the art of cooking.

They have literally hundreds of thousands of items, crammed together in a state of organized chaos.

There are rolling pins of every shape, size and material.

Whisks, whisks, whisks.

And even more whisks.

The largest wooden spatula I have ever laid eyes on. Even more remarkable? They have pots large enough to require a stirrer that large! (I tried to get Carrie to climb inside one so that I could take a pic but she decided she’d rather have her dignity. Go figure…)

They have chef’s knives both expensive and affordable.

 

This is the “smalls” section. Oyster knife and glove? Check. Cheese trier? Check. Baking pans of every shape and size? Check. Cookie cutters, chocolate molds, pastry tips, thermometers, truffle planers, couscousiers? Check, check, check, check, check and check.

Have you ever seen such a lovely sieve?

This copper rooster is the E. Dehillerin mascot. If it didn’t weigh a thousand pounds and cost a thousands of dollars, it would be my mascot. Instead I contented myself with a handful of small things that fit my budget (and my luggage) a little better, including a few surprises for Zac.

If you are ever in Paris you should really put E. Dehillerin on your must-see list. Who knows what you will stumble across on your way?

CSA Shares: Mid-June

“This,” as I wrote in an email to our vegetable CSA shareholders, “is the calm before the tomato storm.” I am pretty confident that, by next Monday, we’ll be bringing in the season’s vanguard– baskets of cherry tomatoes.

For now, though, we’re harvesting swiss chard:

French Breakfast Radishes (almost at the end of these):

Red Spring Onions:

and bunches of Lavender,

Mint (which we have in ridiculous quantity),

and Flat-Leaf Parsley.

It’s a gentle mix of colors and flavors– soft reds and purples and greens– that’s still more like spring than full-on summer. But as soon as those tomatoes start rolling in– that’s when we’ll know it’s really summertime.