Farmgirl Follies

Howling at the new moon

Posted by Farmgirl on November 21, 2009  |  7 Comments

“Well-behaved women rarely make history.” ~ Mae West

One of my favorite things to do is spend time with like-minded women who enjoy basking in silliness even though some think them ridiculous. Are we old enough to know better? Sure. Do we run the risk of appearing off our rockers? Possibly. Is it worth it? Absolutely.

On Thursday I boarded the Chateau, above, dressed in a green Kiss Me, I’m Irish T-shirt and a fake alpaca-fur cape. My hair was in its natural state of reddish, curly disarray. My fingernails were painted black. No, it’s not my typical attire. I was in character, you see … Victoria the vampire.

An aunt, various cousins, friends and my sister headed to Tinseltown for the midnight showing of New Moon. We arrived about 7:30 p.m. Enjoyed red velvet cupcakes with frosted fangs. Enjoyed a few cocktails and dished about our favorite characters from the movie. Admired the movie posters taped inside the camper.

We laughed until we cried. We cried until we laughed. It was very emotional.

First, let me just say that the movie was awesome. Fabulous, actually. But that’s  not what this post is about. I want to point out how important it is to NOT take yourself too seriously. As it turned out, the others in my party did not wear their costumes. So what? I made a teenage girl in the long, long line shriek, “LOOK! She’s Victoria!” And really, that’s all I needed to confirm and justify my own stupidity. Everyone should be so lucky.

Women and girls stood outside the RV taking photos of our banners.  A local restaurant delivered pizza to our party in the parking lot. It was wonderful.

Hundreds, possibly thousands of women and girls, united by a zest for life. A willingness to be just a little addicted to romantic stories of fictional vampires and werewolves. Even a midnight movie and a 45-minute drive home in the dark at 3 a.m. could not quell my satisfaction and sense of joy. Every once in awhile it’s good to step outside your typical routine and do something that’s purely playful and ok, childlike.

Life is too short. You know the familiar phrase: Live well, laugh often, love much.

And to that I would add, wholeheartedly and with great fervor.

Farmboy gets his groove on

Posted by Farmgirl on October 6, 2009  |  4 Comments

Gettin’ down with his bad self. My three-year-old starred in his own dance party this evening. I was listening to Supermassive Black Hole by Muse … YES … from my Twilight soundtrack. Not my usual musical genre, but I have an addiction and I’m not afraid to admit it.

(Here’s the scene from the movie if you want to watch! It’s the Cullen Vampires playing baseball during the thunderstorm.)

Anyway …

Farmboy has some smooth moves. It’s too bad not even a belt can hold up his pants. He has no bum. No bum whatsoever.

“Lookie here, Mommy,” he demanded before doing a little twist and shake. Not sure what’s going on with the tongue, there.

Why do people do weird things with their mouths when dancing? Does it help balance the body? Does it help us breathe? Does it help us concentrate? I wonder … as I wander … over yonder.

Anyway … this is the kind of excitement we have around our place. Well, that and runaway cattle roundups. But this is much, much more fun.

P.S. In a little over a month, the second movie in the Twilight Saga comes to theatres: New Moon. I CAN’T WAIT!!

Ok … enough about my obsession. (But really, you must read the books … then see the movie.)

Three’s a crowd, batman

Posted by Farmgirl on August 10, 2009  |  2 Comments

I was awakened at 3:38 a.m.
A small fluttering sound broke through my dead-to-the-world state of deep sleep. It came closer and then departed at least twice before my mind registered that something was flying by my face. I opened my eyes and was blinded by moonlight. A split-second later I saw something fly across my bedroom.

I let out a screech which instantly awakened my slumbering husband who jumped upright just as I yelled, “IT’S A BAT!” and simultaneously we both pulled the covers over our heads.

“What?” He said, near hysteria himself.

“I heard a fluttering sound and I opened my eyes and saw something flying around the room. It’s a bat!” I squealed in dismay.

Still dazed and confused, he tumbled to the floor, crawled over and opened the screen door. Then he dove through our bedroom doorway. I continued to lay stone still in my bed with the sheet over my head, silently hyperventilating. With each pass around the room I could hear the bat’s little wings beating frantically as it tried to find a way out with its unique radar. Or is it sonar? Who cares! There’s a bat in my bedroom.

The bat must have circled above my head nine or 10 times before I heard Farmguy say, “I’m going to turn on the light.”

“Noooo!” I screeched. “It will go crazy! Please! I don’t want it to land on me!”

The bat flew past my head again and then … all was still.

We both waited.

“Did it go out the door?” I inquired.

The light came on then. Nothing happened. I refused to look until I heard the screen door slide shut and he assured me it was gone.

We looked at each other.

And then I started to giggle. Hysterically. If only you could have seen my husband jump to attention at my first shriek and cover his head at my proclamation. If only you could have seen him dive to the floor and sneak stealthily to the door to lure the rabid beast into the night. If only you had seen us consulting under cover of darkness as the beating wings of such a small creature completely

FREAKED US OUT!

“Where in the heck did it come from?” I wondered in between gasps and giggles. We recalled that Farmboy had been out on the deck and left the door open a bit.

“It could have been in here all night or there could be more,” he said. And then, “Would you please be quiet and go to sleep now?”

(Disclaimer: This is not THE bat. This is someone else’s bat)

What? How on earth was I supposed to sleep after such a hair-raising experience?

I cannot tell you how terrifying it really was. And now, how funny it is when I play it back in my head.

Don’t misunderstand. I’m not really afraid of bats. They’re everywhere on a summer evening. My siblings and I used to try and swat them with badminton rackets in our back yard. I’ve even had a bat or two in the house before. It’s an old house, who knows what creatures also call it home.

BUT … being awakened from my sweet dreams by beating bat wings is something else entirely!

A bat in my bedroom. Snakes in my yard.

What’s next? Swarms of grasshoppers and raining frogs?