ReluctantFarmChick.com

Every week I swear I’m going to blog more faithfully.  I mean, there’s so much going on – it’s not like I’m lacking for information.  But I have this feeling of needing to have "stellar" writing – something witty or amusing or clever.  And my life just isn’t that witty or amusing or clever.  So here’s the ramble.

This past weekend my kids participated in a choral festival in Georgia.  There were over 200 kids there from all over the place.  I went down with a friend to listen to their performance and was totally blown away by the quality!  Granted, their teacher here worked with them for the past several months so they’d be familiar with the music.  But bringing that hodge podge of miscellaneous groups together and getting them to sound like something decent is quite the feat.  Here’s a poor-quality iPhone shot of part of the group.

The empty chairs are where the strings came in during some of the pieces – they added quite a lot to the overall effect.  We drove home after the program – which means we got to bed somewhere around 1:30am.  Maybe that’s how come I feel so totally wasted today (my dad always said "you paint the week red on Saturday night – we were out on Friday night, but it’s having the same effect).

A project that has been looming for a little while is getting our chickens OUT of the garage and into a new dwelling somewhere on the farm.  I’ll take pictures of them soon – but just know that chickens do not take a long time to grow up.  Prince Farming is quite fond of his chicks and is worried about what wild life might not respect chicken life as much as he does.  I told him we might need to appease the Raccoon and Hawk gods with a sacrifice or two, but he’s wanting to take a chance without that pay-off.  Last Thursday we started working on getting the small barn ready for chickens.  It’s been a bit of a dumping ground since we moved here, so there is a lot of clean-up to do.  It’s not done.  I did spend some time helping to stack some HUGE logs.  They were HEAVY.  And after only 2 hours of work out there my back ached.  And my wrists haven’t been the same since.  We were going to do more work on the chicken house on Sunday, but . . . . I’ll have to tell you about that another time.  Brace yourselves.  It just might involve a cow story.

This week we have a cooking class – actually we call it a "Lunch & Munch" – don’t know where that term came from, but it’s stuck.  In my non-farm, non-home life, I am the coordinator for a Wellness program which is grant driven (not-for-profit).  We do all kinds of lifestyle classes, including smoking cessation, healthy living, dealing with diabetes, cooking classes, and wellness lectures in public schools, among other things.  It’s a fairly new program, and from year to year we never know how much work we’ll have to do (or get paid to do – there’s always a lot to do).  So tomorrow is a short class – we’ll do the same thing twice (11am and 12pm).  We have to have everything done in short order because people come through on their lunch hour and hope to get interesting information and a good meal out of the deal.  So today we prepped and cooked.  And we video-taped the demonstration so that people could be eating while they watch how to prepare the dishes.  I am also responsible for the recipe cards – had to get them printed, cut, and collated.  It’s been a FULL day.  And tomorrow will be the same.

Next week I have committed (advertised and everything) to having a Christmas Card stamp class.  I’m very excited about doing a class again – it’s been over a year already (can’t believe I said that out loud!).  So I needed to figure out what I’m doing so I could get an order placed so my materials would be here in time for the event.  I’ll post about that soon – I want to have the cards done so you can see what I’m up to.  It just added to an already full day today.  I placed an order.  I just hope I have thought it all through enough to have what I need.

This week is full speed ahead.  Thursday is going to get here and I’ll be ready to take a nap, but I’ll have the chicken thing to contend with.  Unless Prince Farming gets distracted by something more pressing.  One can only hope.  Although I’m REALLY ready to have those smelly things  (chickens) OUT of the garage.  It just doesn’t seem fitting to have 25 fully grown chickens roosting in the garage, does it?!

This about sums up my rambling post:

What is it about grocery check-out lines that make people buy this?

I mean – even self-proclaimed "NON-COOKS" get sucked into the whole marketing thing.  I’m not talking about anyone specific here-  just sort of in general terms.  And you know that when they’ve bought that, you can BET there’s probably something like this at home:

Or does this look more familiar? (to you "organized" types)

I wonder if it’s the size – the convenient, easy to grab, pictures of each recipe advertising that is most appealing?

Or maybe it’s the promise of something "Easy."

Or possibly the fact that anyone who makes these purchases is a closet-lottery-winner wannabe?  Or desirous of being proclaimed the greatest mom-cook EVER in the ENTIRE world.

I mean, who doesn’t want to be a winner?

But in some cases (again, no finger-pointing or name-calling going on here), what would make this inexplicable hankering for instruction books to do things a person never intended, wouldn’t promise, didn’t claim to do, and family makes out fine without?  It’s a mystery!

But if you start to classify these impulse buys, you’d have to take a stab at guesses as to what was going through said shopper’s mind.  And it must happen in sort of waves, because there is generally a fairly consistent theme going on.  Maybe there is a need for a home-spun holiday – something that might not really have happened (or been perceived to have happened) in a childhood.  Maybe only read about in magazines.  During these people’s/shopper’s childhoods.  (Because living in the southern hemisphere where "Homespun Christmas" took on a whole different meaning.)

And maybe that need was bigger than just a few small books.  Maybe the need qualified for a BIG book.

Or maybe, just comfort food.  Possibly during various cold spells – the draw of a warm, filling, but not-too-heavy meal.  With an emphasis on the ease of accomplishing this task.

Of course, if the shopper is a mom, with – say, the job of promoting wellness (in their out-of-home life), you could well expect this possible addition to the collection:

But one would notice that this collection of "health-related cooking" is markedly smaller than the collection of holiday-baking of UNhealthy things.  One would wonder what that might mean!?

And, since that mom might have issues around children, disrespect, observation of lack-of-parenting-skills in some peers, and feelings of general disconnectedness with the home-room type moms who tolerate everything and still feel great about pumping sugar into classrooms regardless of how out of control their kids might seem, you might even understand this purchase:

Of course, because of that desire to connect, the progression easily follows to the possibility of these purchases:

This entertainment obviously stretches across seasons and times, because there’s a strong possibility of this addition to the collection:

At times when cooking seems downright avoidable, why would this purchase ever occur?  I mean – really!  Bring in the professionals here, because to me -

when someone says "let’s beat the heat" or "Celebrate summer!" – it means "let’s jump into the pond."  It certainly NEVER has a cooking connotation.  And does that cover even look  appealing?

Casually browsing this collection of over-the-years purchases, one would observe the fact that with one exception (because of sheer carelessness, I’m sure) each of these books are in pristine condition.  NO dog-eared pages, no flour-stained covers, no "flop-open to a timeless favorite" – NOTHING.  They could be sold as antiques (in 10-15 years) in mint condition.  Were they maybe purchased from a "collectors" standpoint?  It seems highly improbable, based on their "everything in it’s place and a place for everything" dwelling.  I mean, you could most likely find this hodge-podge collection right here

Where the actual family favorites and commonly eaten recipes are kept.  Where you’d find something along these lines:

No, there MUST be some sort of DSM-IV code for this phenomenon.  Maybe this research should be submitted for DSM-V consideration.