LAURA MAKES A LOT OF GNOMES

   

 

 A friend of mine has a really creative concept store.  She only opens five days a month.... has quite a few vendors and fills her shoppe.  Also...pretty much sells out her shoppe every month.  It doesn't make it any less work being open 5 days a month...staging and switching out the store every month, dealing with many vendors and tons of customers in a short period of time (waiting at the door for her to open).  

I've always been into crafts...mostly buying the stuff to make things...and big plans to someday actually make something.  But, working more than full time got into the way of my doing...but I loved the messing around with the fabrics, etc. and imagining what it could be.  One day standing at the cutting table in a fabric store, a group of others and I laughed about whether our hobby was to actually make something...or just buy fabric.  From the look of my more than full extra bedroom...I would say a bit of both.  

I started seeing gnomes and thought they were cute (a few years ago).  I had always loved magical, mystical creatures...but didn't really have the time to do anything more than just fantasize about their magical lives.  But, one day, I decided to try my hand at making a gnome...and it turned out so cute...so I made more, changing colors and fabrics.  I sent them to my friend's store, and they sold out rather quickly.  I thought...wow. That was fun...going to make more.  So, I did...that was 3 years ago and 100's of gnomes later.  We moved and I would still ship to her every month...gnomes.  She decided that she was not quite up to the size of the store anymore, etc. and cut her store space in 1/2 and was only going to allow family to be the vendors.  

FAST FORWARD:  I am now retired (sort of...my husband and I are restoring two homes...a log cabin and a Victorian).  SO... I am making gnomes that take me a lot more time, because I am really spending time making each one unique and pretty much making all of the parts and pieces.  I see some of the gnomes that people (make) assemble with all Hobby Lobby parts, and they are cute, but not the imaginary, mystical gnomes that I picture (that they really are...folklore).  They are dentists, chefs, cowboys, etc. and the only part that seems to make them a gnome is a round nose and a beard.  Whatever makes you happy...I'm just not into that.  I love creating gnomes that look like they really live and work in the woods, making our world a better place.  I like to think that there are gnomes keeping the home fires burning, keeping a pot of stew warm for the hard-working gnomes and mend and fix their clothing and tools.  I love to think of them tending to the trees, plants, animals, birds and flora of our planet.  That despite what we do as humans, they are always there quietly keeping a balance in nature.  I've always loved 'fantasy' movies and stories. And I think that we need more fantasy in this world these days. It's a happy escape to the realm of color, wonder and hope.  And I'm hoping that my gnomes will end up in every one of your homes to bring the wonder of fantasy and the color of happiness and good luck to you.  

Will be opening my Etsy Shoppe again....maybe...having too much fun making for friends and myself.  

 

THE FRIENDSHIP PATH

 

My husband and I are always on the hunt for older homes to renovate.  The ones that we are particularly interested in are inexpensive because they are in need of work that most people wouldn't attempt. But the seems to be what we are always attracted to...a total gut and renovation.  We see these potential future projects on-line or in a real estate flyer.  We would find out where they were and we would start with a drive by.  If the home looked abandoned...which most of the ones we are attracted to, are...we would get out and have a walk around the house and buildings.   We would each walk in our own direction and look at the areas that were most interesting to each of us.  My husband is a carpenter/contractor and is looking at it from a structural standpoint.  I am the dreamer.  I can clearly see what needs to be done (after years of being married to a contractor/ carpenter) and begin devising a plan of how we would fix this old girl, and how we would bring it back to its original beauty..plus.   I always think of the houses as female and the outbuildings as male. 

We are currently working on two buildings/houses at the same time.

One of them is a log cabin from the 1800's that had a 'Keep Out' sign posted on it, which automatically piqued our interest (of course).

The other home we are working on is a Victorian home from the turn of the century that needs all kinds of MW...major work.  

 When we are interested, we then need to call the listing Realtor for a conversation, and a look see inside.  As we cruise through these properties/houses with realtors, the properties were usually so beat up that the realtors have a hard time pointing out anything positive.  We don't really listen to the realtors any way, we just need them to get us into the property.  We've refurbished enough homes/properties that we know what the structural 'musts' have to be, the rest is cosmetic, poor use of space, materials/colors or a wide range of things that probably not many would take on, but of course... WE WOULD.   I'm sure the realtors walked away shaking their heads...but, we try to stay in touch and invite them back when the projects are complete and they are amazed...we aren't, 

we could picture what it was going to become from the very beginning.  

When spring/summer came, I went out into the yards of both properties.  The log cabin is on 40 acres and the Victorian had a small backyard/front yard.  At both properties, I would sit in a lawn chair, while our two dogs ran around and envisioned my plan for these spaces.   After drawing layouts for a few days, I began work on the smaller yard of the Victorian, while my husband was doing some nasty, dirty work on the inside.  My plan was to get rid of most of the grass, put in gravel walkways and build a lot of perennial beds.  When I stuck my shovel down into the ground, I hit something hard, so I continued to dig up the grass and found some laid brick. I scrapped up the overgrown grass and followed that brick path from our home to the fence of the house next door. 

I sat down for a rest and a drink of iced tea and wondered why this brick path was in our yard leading to the house next door.  The two houses are about the same age, so I don't believe that the next-door property belonged to this house at some point in time.  My husband suggested that it was a path that the neighbors used to go back and forth.  That made sense.  The next-door neighbor had already taken down the wire fencing and put up a secure wooden fence.  We followed suit so that we could safely let our dogs out.  We rolled up the old wire fence and saved the gate and erected a secure wooden fence.  At some point, the neighbors may have had a gate at the end of the walk into the others backyard.  

Being a writer/blogger/photographer, I began to imagine and create a story about this brick path and these two neighbors of yesteryear.  

I'm going to call these neighbors Mr. & Mrs. Russell and Mr. & Mrs. Vander 

 (Bob and Betty Russell & Jean and Albert Vander). 

They purchased their new homes in Menominee, MI in 1900.  They each had two children and were so excited to be on their own, their very own first home.  

One day while they were moving their things into their new homes, Betty and Jean spotted each other and waved - said "Hi Neighbor".  Bob and Albert had already exchanged head nods in the alley as they were unloading boxes from their cars into their garages.   

Monday morning Bob and Albert headed off to work, and the four children headed off to school leaving Betty and Jean to unpack and make this new beautiful home 'their own'.  

While hanging a clothesline in the backyard Betty saw Jean struggling with a large chair, trying to get it into the backdoor.  She walked over to help her.  

And, so began the friendship that would last for decades.  

The pathway between these friends' houses became worn from daily travel and muddy when it would rain.  So, the two husbands decided to lay brick to make it easier for their wives to visit.  And, they would, every day, rain or shine, winter or summer.  It was an important visit for each of them.  They would discuss the weather, their families, recipes, other neighbors and their lives.  They have been in each other's homes, but they really enjoyed their visits at the fence, didn't have to worry about having a sink full of dirty dishes or unmade beds...just visit...

Eventually, as they aged, they put benches by the fence so they could comfortably sit and visit.  

Betty passed first and Jean would still walk out to the fence and sit for a while, thinking about all of their conversations and how much she missed her friend.  She would whisper to Betty, hoping that she could somehow hear her quiet words.  As she got older, it became not safe for Jean to walk over to the fence, but, she would still visit with her friend each day, from a dining room window. 

The children of Betty and Jean knew about their friendship and after they were both deceased, they planted a flower garden on each side of the fence in honor of their moms and their deep friendship.  Those flower gardens are there to this day.  They had not been cared for in years and my plan is to clean up my side, add perennials and place a statue that I bought of two angels sitting on a bench in the center of this little friendship garden.  

As I turn over the dirt of this special meeting spot,

 I think of them visiting and chatting away in Heaven.   

This is a story based on some fact...but, mostly based on my thoughts that are always working on a story.  The above picture of the brick walk is real and does go from our home to next door...I did not realize at first that there were flowers by the fence until some scrub trees were cut down because of the erection of the new fence...then suddenly we had red poppies, lily of the valley, lilies and ferns that had been trapped and shaded by these scrub trees.  We now have cleaned up the bed and added to it.  I found a statue of two angels sitting on a bench.  It sits prominently in this friendship garden.  I have one more angel in my garden and it is one I purchased soon after my own mother passed.  She sits out in the middle of beautiful perennial gardens, feeling the warmth of the sun, the refreshing rain and watches the seasons come and go. I picture these two friends sitting in heaven's gardens having endless conversations.  And, maybe my mom is sitting nearby enjoying all of the beautiful gardens too....

HANGING CLOTHES ON THE LINE

 

Hanging freshly laundered clothing on a rope clothesline is one of the most therapeutic activities in which I indulge...after that comes hot baths, drinking tea and reading/writing or blogging.  

Each one of these activities both invigorate and relax me at the same time.

I recently made myself an apron with big pockets so that I can carry clothespins while hanging my families clothing.  The idea was to make it easier, but I still like to walk back and forth to a stationary pouch full of clothespins that hangs on one end of the clothesline.   

My outdoor animals of course need to be involved, usually running under the hanging clothes like little bulls charging a flapping, colorful piece of fabric.  Chickens, geese, dogs, cats and wild birds seem to be attracted to the moving pieces of clothing and bedding. Maybe it's fun for them, a change in their daily routines.  

As I lift each wet piece of laundry and hang it on the line, it brings me back to a time when I would run around under the clothes while my mom hung out her laundry.  Sometimes it was a wet smack in the face, sometimes a crispy, white sheet that smelled so good.  I would cling to that sheet and smell it while my mom would laugh at me as one of our cats was also clinging to one of the hanging towels.  Those were the days when my mom would wash clothes, hang them outside to dry in the sun and the breeze, and then when they were dry to the touch, she would fold them into a laundry basket and take them into the kitchen.  Once there, she would dampen each piece, separate them with wax paper and then iron them perfectly.  It was like an art form to her.  She would turn on the radio in the kitchen and sing and sometimes whistle while she ironed away.  She seemed to take so much pleasure in her daily 'taking care of her family' activities.  Her iron was heavier than what we use today and it didn't have a spray nozzle.  She had an old pop bottle with a cork sprinkler head in it that she would shake and dampen each article of clothing.  She ironed everything...the only thing she didn't iron were towels and items that went to the dry cleaners.  I would iron my dad handkerchiefs and the pillowcases, because they were 100% cotton and much easier than trying to line up the center of a shirt sleeve.  I still have that pop bottle, and it is a wonderful memory of all of the conversations we would have when I would get off the school bus and find her in the kitchen ironing.  

When I hang clothes on the line, it makes me look all around at the beautiful outdoors.  I hear and see birds; I watch bunnies run and stop in the yard.  I look at the cloud formations and make sure that hopefully there are no rain clouds in sight.  Although, some of the clothes have gone through drying, getting rained on and drying again when I would be gone for the day.  No matter, they smelled wonderful when I would put them on the beds.  

Hanging clothes on the lines makes me feel like I am contributing something good to our overtaxed environment...not using the dryer all summer saves on our gas bill also.  But, most of all, it's good for me and my balance.  It centers me with being able to reminisce about times gone by, also be in the present as I look around and also allows me time to float and dream. It's that kind of an activity that you do to relax your busy mind.  It always kind of feels like I'm sailing or flying while I'm in and around all of the moving sheets and pillowcases. Kind of how I picture being up in the clouds.  It is my little bit of heaven on earth.

Adopting Tipo...

I have always been a dog lover.  Usually my dogs have been on the larger side, longer hair, fuzzy, big cuddly kinds of dogs.

Maybe I choose large because we lived in the country and had farm animals and felt that the dog (s) would help protect the sheep, llamas and chickens.  I guess I also felt safer with a large dog that possibly could protect me.

I would wrestle with each of our large dogs to bathe, groom and keep them as clean and healthy as possible.  But, having only evenings after a long day of work, and weekends to care for our dogs AND all of the barn cleaning and animal feeding and extra cares, clean our home/laundry/shop whatever other million things I planned to do on each and every weekend, was kind of hard.

Several of our larger dogs came to us via being 'unwanted dogs' or ones that it was deemed would be better off with us than where they were living (usually according to me).  We usually have two to three dogs at a time, but we have had up to six at one time. We have taken good care of them, fed them well, allowed them whatever freedoms we safety could, have given  necessary medical care and just generally provided them with the best lives we could.  We took them in, we took on that responsibility of owning these dogs and it was our responsibility to do the very best things for them.

Our wonderful Standard Poodle (Rudy) had sadly just passed.  We still have our Sadie, a large and lovely golden doodle (Rudy's daughter).  

Should be get another dog or should be just really enjoy our Sadie and not strap ourselves down as much as we have for the last many years.

Well....of course, I thought I would just go online and have a look around at the local humane societies... just a look.  I wanted to rescue each and every one of them, and the cats.  I'd look each day to see if the few that I thought would fit in our home were still there...hoping that they were or maybe that they had been adopted, helping to answer the question of...do we really need another dog....

One of the dogs was a 5 year old Chihuahua named Tipo.  He and his sister had been surrendered to the local humane society.  They were so cute...and tiny and looked really well cared for....makes you wonder why they were surrendered.

He is now the love of our life and Sadie's playmate...His sister was already adopted when we picked up Tipo...maybe it's better...he's a busy enough boy.... we love him so much...He appears to have been well cared for and we are most appreciative of that - his teeth are good (even though he is getting older) and physically he is in very good condition.  

He slides in right next to my husband each night in my husband's favorite chair and sleeps, until we all go to bed/sleep - where he sleeps under the blankets (or wherever he wants).  He is a typical Chihuahua...king of our house...and that's okay...we don't know what his life was like before or how he came to be at the Humane Society...so, we let him be and love him up as much as possible....this is his fur ever home and he never needs to even think about being alone every again.   

  

Living Simply Brings New Blessings Everyday.....

It took me retiring a few times and moving into a much smaller home (log cabin from the 1800's) to realize the joy of living each day as simply as possible.  Retiring and downsizing was probably the only way that I would have gotten off of the treadmill of my busy life.  I talked the talk of slowing down, but truth be known, I did not want to and did not know how to even begin to start this next phase in life. 

 

I really want to write more about where I am now, but feel that I need to talk a bit about the busy life I am coming off of to put this transition into some perspective for those that don't know me.    

  

Up until now, I prided myself on my major mega multitasking skills.  Like so many, I've always worked more than full time, raised two children, married two great guys (still married to the best one), kept a nice home and volunteered at church and at my kids school.  Add to that, owning/operating several businesses, apartments, several bed and breakfasts, a restaurant/bakery, storage units, antique shop  and taking college classes on line and in person and making handmade crafts to sell online and at a local store. Oh, and, living on a really beautiful hobby farm with lots of animals (horses, sheep, llamas, goats, peacocks, chickens and anything that needed a home) and also had many gardens to keep (cut flower, perennial and big vegetable gardens/fruit trees).  We routinely bought, turned and sold homes many times, but we ended up renovating and then living in and loving the hobby farm home/barn, etc. for several years.    

 My husband has a very similar personality to mine, but on the exterior he appears to be very laid back...compared to my plugged in at all times look.  He has always owned/operated a construction company and was always on the hunt for a new business venture or a house to turn. And, he always willingly worked right along next to me with all of our endeavors.   I never doubted that I couldn't keep all of it rolling along, I could and I (we) did.  I loved all of the adventures and have 100's of fun great memories...I am grateful for all of the successes of these endeavors, but I am So so ready to not be fully embedded in that pace anymore.    

  

FAST FORWARD...we sold a lot of our stuff from a very large home (the hobby farm in WI) and moved to an old log cabin in the UP of Michigan that is in the middle of 100's of acres.  We are slowly  renovating/remodeling the log cabin.   If we do one of the 'to do' things on the list each day...that's great...or none, and/or go for a long walk, that's okay too.  

I have filled a whole two bedroom mobile home (that is also on our property) with my craft collection...my husband has asked me on a number of occasions if my hobby is collecting craft parts and pieces or actually making it into something.  Well, my love, (he's actually very supportive of all I do) I am now retired and now have and will make the time to really get into my crafts.  I have been selling crafts for a few years....but now, kicking it into full speed ahead (yeah...still a Type A).  But, I now really do it at my own rate and make whatever I want....sell to a store and also on line.

  

I've learned how to create little special, dual purpose spots....because we are now in a much smaller home. I spend a lot of time working on every detail...color, design, use and just generally making it a warm, welcome, fun spot to relax and read, crochet or just sit a spell.  

I love collecting eggs from our sweet girls (chickens.. we have peacocks also) each day....I place them carefully in a basket and thank them for their generosity and wonderful addition to our breakfast meals and sweet baked treats.  I, in return give them table scraps and hold and talk to them each day.  When they are let out of their coop each morning, they follow us back to the house and sit in the sun on the porch...and watch for the chance to slip into the house when the door opens  Chickens really are entertaining...I love to sit on the porch and watch their days activities and listen to their conversations.   

I now really also enjoy putting the chickens and peacocks to bed, saying goodnight and listening to their goodnight interactions and sounds...I used to run out to the coop when I would think of it and sometimes either lock out or push the dawdlers by the door into the coop (with a broom) 'cause....I've got stuff to do ladies....let's go let's go...I don't have all night.   I really don't do that anymore, I just patiently watch the process happen...also I go out later at night when most of them are already in the coop and I bring treats....whatever works.  

  

  I do find myself thinking more deeply about everything that I do and doing it with intent...not just go through the motion to get it done, and then move onto the next, like an assembly line.   I do miss the high of doing twenty things at once...but I do not miss tensely holding my shoulders up to my ears most of the time (and needing to remind myself to drop them)...holding a phone while doing something else, a lot of computer use, tension, etc.  I enjoy deeper more in-depth conversations with my sweet husband (hopefully he does too) instead of us going over the 'to do' list every time we were together.  I love taking long baths (not quick showers) and listening to music all day long....not just in the vehicle when I was driving from A to B to C, etc.  I love planning special meals and baking wonderful new recipes and pulling chairs over in front of our fireplace on a cold night or by the pond on a warm day, or going out onto one of the decks with our many bird friends stopping by for a seed from our many feeders.   We don't just talk about beautiful days and nights...we go out into them and really enjoy the sites and sounds (owls and the birds all having their end of day conversations).  

There definitely are times in your life when you just can't really slow down because life just keeps moving and you have to keep up....but now I don't have to...at first I missed my busy life.  I honestly loved being so busy that I never ever had to think up something to do.  My husband and I both thrived and thoroughly enjoyed our busy life.  This transition definitely takes some time and adjustment...and, it is becoming more of my everyday.....everyday.   I've learned to fill and replace with something new and fulfilling.  Still busy, just different busy.  Shoulders are now in the normal relaxed position (most of the time).

I've taken the jump into the lovely warm pool of retirement and I've willingly surrendered....and it feels like a really good thing for me....

WE RESCUE AND RENOVATE OLDER HOMES...OUR EXPERIENCES WITH RESIDUAL ACTIVITY/HAUNTINGS....

  

The before and after of one of the homes that we have renovated...this is the home that I describe in this blog as 'smiling and taking a deep breath' after we finished the exterior painting.  This picture was the inside of the Open House Invitation that we had sent out to many friends and family.   

I was born in the city of Chicago.  Every move that I have made, has taken me further away from the city.... first to the suburbs as a child and then once married, further out into newer developments.  And, for the last 25 years into the country...farming/rural areas.

My husband is a builder, and I am a generator of ideas and lover of older architecture.  We buy older homes, renovate, love and save them from demolition.    Sometimes we would sleep in a trailer on the grounds until we could get the home to at least a livable stage.  Many times, we would live in the house, in a plastic enclosed room for sleeping, a hot plate for cooking and a bucket or two for a bathroom.

We view ALL things as living and able to retain memories.  So, we are always respectful of each home and its original components. We repair, reinforce and restore as much as possible unless something structurally is found to be unsafe.   Bathrooms and kitchens are almost always upgraded.  Not many prospective buyers want to go out to the spring and retrieve water or use an outhouse.  Many homes that we have purchased never have had indoor plumbing.  When looking for an older home to purchase, we generally looked for a house with many rooms, so that we could create a first and second floor bathroom and a kitchen.    We purchased a Sears farmhouse some years ago and there was a pump/tank room on the second floor where one would pump water up to the second floor.  It was large enough to make into a big, beautiful bathroom with laundry (2nd floor).

We always do a lot of research into the history of the home and many times; the history would just come to us in the form of visiting neighbors.  After the purchase of this Four-Square Farmhouse which was built in the early 1900's, we received a phone call from the original owners' great grandchildren (they had researched deeds at the courthouse). We frequently visit local libraries, courthouses and historic societies or organizations to gather as many pictures as possible and/or information about each new project.  When we would run into neighbors at the local hardware store, or when they would stop by to see what was going on, they were usually anxious to tell us about who died there and how they died and/or any other sorted details that they either had direct knowledge of or 'had heard'.  Also in our research, obituaries were always a great source of gathering information.  I have always loved reading obituaries...some are so plain...lived and died...others are so colorful and full of interesting information about the person, their families and the times.

We always assume that at least one person had passed/died in each of these older homes.  Families lived in the same home, generation after generation.  They lived in the same home as their parents and grandparents and farmed the very same soil.

 Many wakes and viewings were held in these homes, usually in the parlor.  After family and friends met and discussed the good and bad times, crops and the weather, shared a meal, they carried the dearly departed to the family cemetery.  Many times, physically carrying them (a child) and other times in a wagon.  After lowering the loved one into the ground and saying their goodbyes, they would mark the spot in several different ways.... a small fence around the site, a cross, a pile of rocks, something that they had made or a special possession of their loved one.  We have purchased homes with grave sites on them...children and adults alike.

 We take our time to get the feel of the home before we begin and come up with as many ideas as possible to restore.... not destroy.   Developing a relationship with the home and all of the memories that are held within the structure becomes our priority.  While coming up with a plan (that changes very often) we have many daily discussions, sometimes we have to go for walks to rest and refresh our busy heads.  Intertwined in our construction/renovation discussion, are thoughts about the families that lived, love and called this their home.  Where love was shown, arguments were had, and families felt grateful and safe.  Babies were born, people died either suddenly (fires/farm accidents) or slowly from illnesses.

One evening upon turning on the tv, there was a show about paranormal activity.  At first, I thought it was like the other ones that I had spent a few minutes watching when there was nothing else on tv.  You know the ones, creepy noises, orbs, etc. but nothing that you would really think was actually there haunting the building or its residents.    But this show in particular was about a home where several paranormal experts performed all of the tests that they generally conduct and decided that there really weren't any dangerous hauntings but, that there was what was called residual activity/hauntings.  Meaning that the memories of the activities of the home had been and always would still be present.... kind of like a movie that plays over and over through the years.   And, that you might just be lucky enough (depending upon how you feel about this type of thing) to be in attendance when a memory presents itself.  Stairs that had been walked up and down for years, doors that have been opened and closed hundreds of times, floors that have been walked upon by so many people.... have memories.  Old floors and stairs have structural reasons why they creak and move, but not always.  Doors open and close due to air flow and house settling, but not always.  There are hot and cold areas in houses due to old ventilation systems and drafts, but again, not always. There are many different sensations that one might feel...for no real apparent reason.  Maybe they are just the thoughts that you yourself have created or, maybe they have been created for you...through events that have happened in that place and are still present in some form.

I guess I would like to say that I have seen shadows, items flying across the room, etc., but neither my husband nor I have experienced any of that in the many homes and buildings we have renovated.  But we have always felt an awakening and a feeling of comfort and care.  We have also felt redirected occasionally in our renovation choices.  We have never felt afraid only that we were just the next people to care for this home and bring it back, for which we felt grateful.

One home that we renovated had a history of two suicides (in the spring house...arsenic) with a lot of alcoholism and depression. My husband (before we knew this information) stood back and was admiring the new paint job we had given the exterior and said, "I just saw the house smile and take a deep breath".  The children that had lived in this home somehow had heard of our Open House and decided to come.  One of the wives indicated to us that her husband had been suffering from nightmares and night sweats for years after his life in this home.  We walked him through the house, and he said that it felt much different, he felt peaceful and would be creating better memories.

   Maybe the house had survived all of the sadness and hard times that people and families brought into it.  The house had been unoccupied for years and was in great disrepair, but still "had really good bones" as my hubby would say.  Possibly this home was at first disturbed when we first arrived, but learned from our daily presence and hard work that there would be many more pleasant times and happiness going forward...... and that was good.

We lived in this home for a few years and sold it to a family that described it as their 'dream home'...they still live there and still love it....so, all is well...and good.

Possibly my husband really did see the house smile and take a deep breath...

COUNTRY HEART

County Heart

I didn't start out in the country, not born on a farm...I was born in Chicago.  But, my mom was from a farm and my dad's parents were farmers in Italy.

I guess it all started with my love of animals.  We rescued everything that was injured in the neighborhood.  My favorite outings were to Brookfield and Lincoln Park Zoo and to a huge pet store called  Animal Kingdom on Milwaukee Ave. in Chicago.  In those days,  pet stores had fewer (if any) regulations.  They had a baby elephant there and a tiger and all kinds of amazing snakes, birds, fish, dogs, cats and anything you can imagine.  They rented out the bigger animals, some were regulars on tv shows.  My parents surprised my brother and I with a pet monkey that they had purchased from Animal Kingdom.  We named her GiGi and she was a Capuchin monkey.  My favorite books were always about animals.  I think my first words were animals sounds...my mom would always read a Golden Book to me about farm animals and what sounds they make.  She was really good at making their quacks, moos and cock a doodle dos.  I would always jump up and down with my hands under my arm pits making monkey sounds.

I wore red cowboy boots with everything much to the dismay of my grandmother...we lived in a two flat, grandma, grandpa and aunt upstairs.  Mom, dad and me downstairs.   My mom was a professional dancer and wore what would be considered 'kind of out there' for the time.  So, it was fine with her that I wore whatever clothing combinations my little heart desired.  Most pictures of me until I was five were underwear, undershirt, cowboy hat and boots and my Roy Rogers/Dale Evans watch.

My parents, like many, eventually moved to the suburbs.  As I married and had kids, we moved further and further out into the suburbs because a growing family was able to buy more house for less, the further out you were from the city.   After a few moves we were in the country with a bit of a longer commute to our jobs in the suburbs.

First it was buying dogs, cats, rabbits, guinea pigs, fish, chameleons and other smaller animals 'for the kids'.  But as we acquired more animals and became more interested in growing our own food and sitting out at night and gazing at the stars, we made the decision to become  'as self supporting of our life in the country as possible'.

We found that we needed less with the busy life that we were leading in the country, so we were spending less.  Cleaning barns, mowing much larger land, gardens and animals that needed daily care.  We were always reading books and later, on line looking for information and ideas from experienced individuals about raising chickens and other animals for fun and profit.

 I am a lifelong crafter (sewing, quilting and anything else I decide to learn and create) and soap maker. I was on Pinterest constantly gathering ideas that I could add my own spin. So, I started to make things to sell at various stores and online.

My husband is a full-time contractor, and he still needed to work larger jobs, to support us, but was finding time to make furniture and smaller items that he could sell.  

It took a lot of years and a lot of hard work to really become as self sufficient as possible, earn money doing what we loved and live on a farm.....but, we did it.  And, it took a lot of heart to do it.  Hearts that were large enough to take in (rescues), care for and love all of our animals, indoor and out.  Hearts that felt like they were going to break when any animals would die or decisions had to be made to do what was best for them.  A heart that looked for ways to improve our land, water and air quality in whatever small ways we could.  Always thinking with our heart about how to leave less of a footprint on this wonderful earth for generations to come.

I think that is what a country heart really is....