I swear somewhere else now and you can, too.

Hi. Yes I have been sucking at posting to this blog.

I moved to the country and started working on a farm and - SHOCKER -  I spend less time with a computer.

But I DO spend a lot of time with the cell phone.

And I do still take photos of plants and Jada and the farm and Bubba with chainsaws and me being stung by angry stinging insects..

Plus all that other stuff you've come to know me for and about which we all used to chat enjoyably over our respective beverages from different points on the maps.

Let's do that some more, but just over at Instagram where I post the photos and the swears now.

I may make it back to the blog here and there, but dudes - I'm just going into my first season where I've done the whole crop plan for 1.25MM square feet of greenhouse and I'm going to be photoing the whole fucking lot of it and that'll be over there where it's fast and I can get back to anxious breakdowns between farm catastrophes/thrills.

OK - speaking of catastrophes/thrills - I'm going to go shing the hill now because LO spring is here a lot of months earlier than last year and the weeds are really something.

Pleaseletmenotslicethroughawaspnesttodaythankyou.

I'm not going to have a vegetable garden

So I've finally said the words.

No vegetable garden here. Probably ever.

Which, if I'm being honest, I knew when we bought the place.

Despite my wild out loud fantasies of tractoring and row crop growing and getting goats for the manure-making (and obviously face cuddling), I knew.

Because this place is on a seriously not fucking around slope and the only sunny space I have that's flat is right annoyingly out at the front of our property where we have to have space to deal with the solar panels and for, say, the corralling of 402 goats during their 5 annual days of glory eating the poison oak.

I can have a vegetable garden or I can have a goat corral for five days of the year. I went goats. Doy. 

As though there are people that DON'T want this on their property.

Also deer.

Deer, cottontails, ground squirrels, jackrabbits, skunks, opossum, rats, field mice...there are a lot of creatures here that love to eat/make a nest of/fuck up a vegetable garden.

Dudes - even the succulents I planted in a pot on the top level of my deck within five feet of Jada The Predator's jaws weren't safe. Something fucking ate them, too.

Sidenote: Name that movie. Hint: That is not a complete quote.

So yeah, despite whatever delusions I may have vaguely entertained when we bought the place of the vegetable garden I *might* have *one day* once we don't need that flat spot for necessary maintenance activities of our main power source and the hungry naughty wildlife has left their native habitat of our property because they decide they want their kids going to the good schools in Los Altos rather than this bumpkin shit (honestly, I have no idea of school systems. I don't have kids. But you get it.) - maybe then.

But until then, no.

And that's totally 100% OK.

Seriously. I'm fine with it.

Because...natives.

California natives and an essentially untouched 5 acre oak woodland that has almost every Sunset Zone 16 exposure imaginable.

Ok, go.

Like full sun, part sun, part shade, shade, deep shade, dry shade, wet weather creeks, slope, flat, well draining, clay, sand, under oaks, fog drip line, east/west/north/south facing whatever - all the exposures and conditions.

The same Zone 16 that Sunset deems "one of Northern California’s finest horticultural climates."

And the same house where the previous residents decided to plant vinca and let it run amok in the front and then never did a shitting thing about the poison oak choking out the Coast Live Oak (Quercus agrifolia for my plant nerds! Woo!) in the back and then put in a bunch of tragically tight-spaced non-native water hungry Poplars and surrounded it all, including the oaks, with drip and sprinkler irrigation.

For the win.

Ugh.

But to bring it back. To make it right, plant-wise. That's the fun now.

So, sorry tomatoes, but our field grower is perfectly excellent at growing tangy rich dry farmed Early Girls and drunkeningly luscious heirloom cantaloupe and more frilly perfect dill than I ever knew even existed in a single crop anywhere. And I grow basil and cucumbers year round, so we have that and all the other shit that comes off the farm. So no one needs a vegetable garden then, too.

Instead, I'm growing lupines, Lupinus arboreus now.

These are some native annual lupines which are different but still awesome and they will stay.

They're there. In the dug out ruts in the side of the slope there. Promise.

And buckwheat, Erigonum grande rubescens

Obviously California poppies, Eschscholzia california

And Matijla poppies, Romneya coulteri

Next spring, this thing is going to be huge and gorgeous. Swear it.

And Bush Anenome, Carpenteria californica

Ok, kinda cheating here since this is one from our old house. But I still love this plant and I'm having LOTS here. 

And Flannel Bush, Fremontodendron

This was before the deer dined on it. It looks OK now and next spring BETTER and then in a few years UH-MAY-ZING.

And California Lilac, Ceanothus

Do you like the high contrast photo that I took at midday after I discovered the deer had gone to work on my new Ceanothus 'Joyce Coulter'? I don't. It's a shit photo and those deer are jerks but next spring I bet the "after" photo will look incredible.

And Mock Orange, Philadelphus lewisii

And Woolly Blue Curls, Trichostema lanatum

And Sticky Monkey Flower, Mimulus

This guy was supposed to be Mimulus bifidus 'White', but Annie's played a wee joke on me before sending me what I ordered so DAMNITALLTOHELLNOTREALLY I have a few of these Mimulus aurantiacus 'Cherry' in and amongst the 'Pt Molate' and the Mimulus bifidus 'White'. Worse things have happened, I assure you. 

And Hummingbird Sage, Salvia spathacea

I have an absolutely inappropriate love affair with this plant. I'm planting it everywhere. It's going to be glorious. If not a little showy.

This is one of the plantings. Of, I think five now. I swear this will look good one day. Probably.

And Giant Chain Fern, Woodwardia fimbriata

And what I thought was Western Sword Fern, Polystichum munitum, but on reflection is I'm not sure. Thoughts, my plant people? I'm going to check my plant tags.

It is impossibly green here in the spring.

And Maidenhair Fern, Adiantum capillus-veneris

And Showy Milkweed, Asclepias speciosa

And Douglas Iris, Iris douglasiana

And Penstemon

And Western Redbud, Cercis occidentalis

Yeah. She needs time.

To start with anyway.

And maybe one day, when we've cleared enough of the poison oak from the beautiful hillside to put in our little trail, I'll get to go out into the wild (but in a way where I don't meet a tragic end in an abandoned bus) to plant even more because I'M DRUNK WITH THE POWER OF FIVE WHOLE ACRES OF ZONE 16 OAK WOODLAND WOO!

So yeah, no vegetable garden probably, but, like, I'm fine with it.

Eventually my eyes will stop watering.

I really thought I'd have more glamorous shit to report from our New Life In The Country, as it's been called, but who the hell knows why I thought there would be glamour in the country.

Mostly we just have skunks.

Hey buddy! NO THANK YOU.

OH MY GOD THE MOTHER FUCKING SKUNKS.

Remember how I got so over our old house projects before that I never wanted to hear the word, "kitchen", again? Or garage. Or bathroom. Or porch. Or fireplace. Or bar.

Because of the all-consumingness of those projects? Because we were spending all of our waking hours discussing the ins and outs and details and plans for those projects? Those projects that were going to result in a remodeled kitchen, a garage with electricity, a bathroom without a time machine shower,  a not-collapsing porch, a push button fireplace and an effing BAR?

OH TO BE SAYING, "BAR", OVER AND OVER RIGHT NOW INSTEAD OF, "SKUNKS".

And then to get a fabulous new BAR instead of...just not skunk smell.

Yeah. So, we're there with the skunks.

These sick bastards went to absolute town on our house one week before we moved in.

Sprayed the garage. Sprayed the guest house. Sprayed the deck.

Our eyes are watering, but still - COCKTAILS ON THE DECK. MUST HAVE IT. NEED THOSE ONION GOGGLES. Also, please enjoy our ski fencing while the deck railing is finished. 

I'll just say that moving day was fragrant. Eye-wateringly so.

Yay.

So yeah - all the glamorous fun projects like tearing out miles of heinous carpet, redoing a tragically tiled kitchen, setting up a media room or staking out my new garden has taken an abrupt backseat.

Because WHY DOES IT STILL SMELL SO BAD?

See...glamour. It's my life.

Thankfully, we now have A Skunk Guy.

We have traps set and they're baited with hard boiled eggs (I almost vomit a lot) and they're sitting out waiting to catch us the grand prize of a funking skunk.

That will probably spray again when The Skunk Guy comes to take him away.

Hooray.

At least we got the garbage disposal fixed on the home buyer's warranty!

Oh, not glamorous either.

Ceiling fan spins now?

OK, also boring.

New propane tank!

Snore, I know.

But the stairs! We had the hilarious contractor built us some awesome stairs! And they're pretty!

You'll have to do.

And he had his painter do the painting part and OH MY GOD LOOK A THE PAINTER GUY'S DOG:

I'm sure you realize that I cuddle raped the absolute pants off of this dog.

And then we've had some good looking sunsets.

Nicely done, Country.

And twilight turkey hunting.

And Jada's kinda in heaven.

Plus, we're managing.

Beer is why country dog walks are superior to suburban dog walks.

So fuck the glamour.

We have skunks, sunsets, stairs, turkeys, a happy dog and beer.

Best thing I've ever heard.

So, the craft room's up. 

And apparently open for business.

But I can hardly be mad since Bubba, the owner of these fine shorts that sorely need ass-mending, also turned this nightmare...

Into this...

MAKE THE BULLSHIT GO AWAY. THAT IS MY WISH.

And since he is awesome and even though it's not even my birthday month anymore, away they went. To I do not care where.

But speaking of birthdays, I had one. In the country this time.

And I approve.

We actually use our dining room here. It's very grown up feeling when I'm making happy faces with my bacon which happened right after I took this photo.

So, if you ignore the WT neon ski fence placeholding for the forthcoming railing our hilarious contractor is building, you can maybe enjoy the future awesomeness of our patio table under this beautiful oak that will have twinkle lights or mini lanterns hanging from it. But you have to ignore the WT neon ski fence first. Good luck with that.

Our neighbors have chickens. 

Lots and lots of fluffy pants having chickens that do not yet know how much they like being cuddled. BUT THEY WILL KNOW.

Jada had her way with our neighbors' dogs' toys during our first visit to their house. Because she is a lady.

This is not our view. It's our neighbors' view. But it's a goodie and we will enjoy very much sitting on that lovely deck getting drunk for many weekends to come.

Also, these neighbors are British and they own a fryer and they make fucking "chips". YES. PLEASE. And then they do things like say, "Have a chip buttie!" And then I say,  "And just what the fuck is a chip buttie?" and they go, "Well, it's just this thing we Brits do where we butter some soft french bread and stick 'chips' in the middle and that's that." And I say, "YES. PLEASE."

And while we're on the subject of our hilarious and awesome neighbors who totally accept my foul mouth AND have chickens - here's the first container of eggs they gave us when we moved in. Except for the wee one there, which we were told was the first egg their chickens laid back in the day and "Look at how small it is compared to the eggs they lay now!" And while we held the eggs (CAREFULLY) and admired the difference, hilarious neighbor goes, "The chicken that laid that big egg there - she's got a cunt like a bucket." Yep. We're home.

Plus, Jada never wants to leave their deck, so there's that.

And did I mention that they make homemade fries all the time? Like, cut fresh from real potatoes and deep fried in an actual fryer? I FUCKING LOVE THESE PEOPLE.

Also, I love cooking actual meals again and eating them on actual dishes in our dining room that we're totally using in this house because why not? Also because it's the only place we have furniture on that floor, so it's either eat at the table or eat on the floor and I think I've covered how wretched the carpet is, so no.

And in case you don't know what a giant birthday cupcake looks like, here you go. My hairdresser is an hour and a half away now, but you know my ass is going up there regardless because this is what happens on my birthday at my hairdresser's.  

This is down the hill from our house and I'm sure there's a Jeff Foxworthy joke for this, but I refuse to make it. 

Much champagne was had in the name of my birthday. Plus chips. Always chips.

And ripping out of spaghetti mess cables wadded up not at all neatly by my side of the bed. EW. AWAY WITH BULLSHIT.

And face pinching. 

So that was my birthday, in a shell.

And now I'm going to go look at some farms in Germany for a week.

Even cleaned up my work boots for the trip because I can't be visiting their German farms in dirty boots covered in American filth now can I? No. Because I'm a lady. And also I refuse to pack dirty boots into a bag with my clothes. Ew. 

OHMYGODWEFINALLYMOVEDSHITDAMN

So, yeah. We're here. 

In the country.

FUCKINGFINALLYALREADY.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The bees are here. With a view.

Jada's here. On the horrible carpet. Because she's the only one that likes horrible carpet.

All of our shit is here.

Our hilarious contractor is here pre-filling our new fridge with pink-bowed beer for Bubba.

Jada's new buddies are here

Sure as shit the turkeys are here

I've even cooked a few dinners after stripping clean (except for one. I left one tomato. On each plant. Because I'm a lady.) my vegetable plants. 

I needed help lifting this.

All people use roofing material as a patio coffee table. ALL PEOPLE SHUTTUP.

Weird kitchen with ugly tile countertops and the fabulous fabulous view.

Our Realtor is a hero, awesome and hilarious.

Too bad Jada doesn't love him AT ALL.

What more do you need for move day than (clockwise from bottom left) Fruity Pebbles, Rice Krispies and caramel, cinnamon, dark chocolate old fashioned, bacon maple chocolate, apple fritter, Oreo caramel, dark cherry cordial, sprinkles, strawberry Pocky, glazed old fashioned and salted caramel dark chocolate Rice Krispies donuts? WHAT MORE I ASK?

OK, that also.

Especially after this farewell from San Jose.

Figures.

Jada was the only one that loved the horrible grass.

So, we're here. We're in the country. We're unpacking and adjusting and meeting the neighbors and marveling at how the movers knew exactly how we wanted our furniture arranged. 

Perfect.

We've built a new stairway and deck.

Put on two new roofs. 

Cuddled our painter's dog

Found some good breakfast spots

Hunted turkeys

Hunted turkeys

 and stargazed (while taking shitty pictures with the phone).

And next weekend is my birthday and do you know what I'm doing for my first birthday in our country house?

I'M SETTING UP MY CRAFT ROOM MUTHER FUCKERS.

Yeah. We're going to be just fine "Way out there so far away from everything! What are you going to do?".

Hey, I might even write a meaningful blog post one day. 

MIGHT. 

Good to see you guys, by the way. You look hotter from here anyway.