Farm Town, take me Away!!!

Amber’s “Little Patch of Heaven”



“Come visit my farm,anytime!!”  I heard that a lot in the last week.  I was sent notes on my Farm Town note pad, got messages on the Forum link, and people stopped by my farm and invited me back to theirs.

I saw many, many wonderful farms.  I went to “Grannie Judi’s Place”, a level 31 farm where Grannie Judi has made a resort type bar out of concrete blocks,tent and stools.  I traveled to the “Middle of No Where Farm”, where Dora-no relation to the explorer- had constructed a realistic beach complete with sand and waves.  On “Kim’s New Groove” farm, Jungle Kim has created-can you guess?- a jungle, so spectacular that I expected to see natives chasing King Kong up the Aztec inspired pyramid.  Too bad Mr. Kong isn’t on the animal list to buy at the market!  On Granny Mo’s “High Line Canal Farm” the new American flag waves in front of a 3 white house combo on a multi level farm.  Just this morning, I dropped by to see “Hill top cottages” who’s proprietor, Ms.B Potter, who hales from Arizona, has created a 3 mansion working farm, that brings to mind old English elegance.

There was one farm,though,  that upon bouncing into I stood speechless.  Rare in itself , for me.  “Little Patch of Heaven” by Amber.  I immediately went to “full screen” to truly take in what I thought I was imagining.  This really was not a farm at all.  No trees.  No houses, barns, fences, rivers or waterfalls.  Not an animal to be seen for miles- not even a rogue chicken.  I had beamed into the middle of an old fashioned cross stitch sampler, like the kind Grandmothers have made into pillows or framed on their walls.  In the middle, using “frozen’ crown’s of thorns as her thread, Amber had stitched ” the Beauty of Creation”.  Surrounding this was butterflies made from red, yellow and Orange poppys, and larger flowers constructed from purple crocus.  Frozen in time marigolds and roses were used as green vines and leaves.  The border of this was the crops itself that when matured create a new color patter.   This farm was no longer a farm it was a piece of art.  It had so evolved that it needed it’s own level.  Amber told me herself, she had never embroidered in her life.  I have done many types of stitchery, and this farm in it’s simple elegance would put them all to shame.

So, what had I learned from my 40 plus farm visits?   That every farmer I got the chance to meet in person, was extremely proud,if not boastfully so, of the farm they had created.  That many, like Amber had used this as an artistic outlet.  for some, it was the friendly competition of getting to the next level- or for me – getting that red mansion.  But the common thread was, that Farm Town is a release from the real world and all  it’s complications.  It was a short-or long- time away from the struggling economy, a loved ones-or one’s own-illness, or in my case, my son Mattie’s Autism.  Like one of the farmers I met, Farmassist , owner of “Farmacy” farm,  told me, “Forget the Calgon, Farm Town, take me away!!”.

Freeze Frame

When you die, and enter Heaven, do you get to choose what age you will be, forever, for eternity?  Or are you stuck in the age you died at,  and in the condition  you died.  Can you look totally different, or at least make some modifications?  And how will other souls recognize you, if you do change your appearance?  Will they just sense it is you?  And why am I thinking of this today?  I know why.  I just ran into my cousin Kim at the local Target.  Though I have not seen her in at least a decade, and very infrequently before that, she will forever be, in my mind, a little girl of 8.   Playing with her Barbies and her Barbie Camper, in the playroom of a house, her family lived in nearly 30 years ago.  That is how it is, often times-people seem to freeze in time.  We remember our parents as they looked when we were little, and suddenly the seem SO old, all at once.  Friends from High School jump years when we see them at a reunion or on Facebook.  Even ourselves seem to time warp when we catch a look in a store mirror, and wonder, ” when did THAT wrinkle show up!”.  Are we all just too busy, in our own lives, or do we have some kind of setting in our brains, that can only save memories at specific intervilles?   Perhaps, it is best unanswered,  that being what will we all look like in Heaven.  Don’t worry if you don’t recognize me at first.   I will be the one waving at you.  The Blonde Chick, having a REALLY great hair day!

It’s a dogs world


Let me start by saying: I LOVE dogs.    All kinds.  I’m not always so sure about their owners.  Yes, I said it.  Owners.  Not human parents.  And definitely  not Mommy and Daddy.  There are things about these owners that perplex me.  Like how can they drive safely with a dog in their lap??  What if they stop short?  Lovey Kins could fall right out the window- which is usually open in all weather conditions.  What if the dog starts acting up and causes the driver to lose control of the car?  Is this any less hazardous than  driving while talking on the cell phone?  And please do not bring your dog, no matter how cute and small, into ANY store other than the pet superstores that invite them.  I have actually spoken to a woman with her small dog riding in the top of the carriage in Wal-Mart.  “That is the SMALLEST  seeing eye dog I have ever seen!!” , I said with a big grin.   “Oh, she isn’t a seeing eye dog!”, her reply.  “Shame on you for sneaking her in then!”, I said, still with a big grin.  She blushed a deep crimson, and literately backed the carriage up and went hurriedly along.  See, it’s not  that I don’t WANT these dogs in stores.  But there is a discrimination going on here.  People look the at the bad judgments of dog owners, but GOD FORBID I want to bring my cat into Wal-Mart!  I think my Maine Coon, Kelso, would love it- all 22 lbs. of him.  I would put him in a harness.  I would even buy one of those little dog carriers to put him in.  I would dress him up in some dogie clothes, like a leather jacket.  And even give him a hat or some shades.  What ever it would take to make him more Dogie kingdom appropriate.  but, that’s not going to happen anytime soon.  Cats have a bad rap here in the States.  They smother babies in their cribs, and claw furniture in the spare moments they are not napping.  So I will continue to taunt dog owners that disrespect public etiquette, and change lanes when I see a poodle-Yorkie (porky??) with his small head hanging out the drivers side window, and wait for the day when all animals are created equal.   And they all are welcome  in Wal-Mart.

Hands in the dirt

There never seems to be a loss for opinions  when it comes to Autism.  How did he get it? How do we fix him?  How do we prevent it from happening to others?  All I know is, right now I’m living it.  And not as a part-time job or as a clinical study.  Survival is a daily thing.  Communication is hard work, on everyone’s part.  And it wreaks havoc across all settings.  But give me a shovel, a piece of land and something, anything, to plant or mow or water- and I’m good. At least for the short run.  Don’t let me fool you, I have my support groups, my pretty meds, but getting my hands dirty is more cathartic than anything I know.  It gives me the energy to deal with what ever life throws at me.  And it gives me the inner strength to raise and love unconditionally, a 10-year-old boy  named Mattie.