Missing the Farmer's Market

There's nothing like farm-fresh carrots and beets!

One of the worst parts of winter is having to survive without the Ligonier Country Market. During summer, I spend almost every single Saturday morning perusing the booths of fresh produce, homemade breads and goodies, organic milk, eggs,meats, and honey, and arts and crafts. Everything sold at the country market must be produced locally; a practice that not only ensures product quality and freshness, but also supports the local farming and artisan community.


The market usually opens at 8 A.M., and I like to get there before the heat sets in and enjoy a hot cup of coffee and an organic whole-wheat pancake with real maple syrup and turkey/apple sausages (my mouth is watering thinking about these). Some of my weekly  staple purchases include Logan Farms' organic grass-fed beef, honey-sticks (these are awesome for preventing hypoglycemic freak-outs ), various fruits and veggies, TInaLee's Country Candles (these make Yankee Candles smell like Glades), and usually a bottle, or two or five, of Stone Villa or Sandhill Berry vino. 


The market is held in a field, so if there has been even a little rain the previous week, you'd best wear your muck boots. Then again, since I've proven how versatile and sexy they are in a previous post, why would you be wearing anything else? 


The market begins on May 26, and I am counting down. You should be too, because supporting locally produced goods is the cool thing to do. You can visit the Ligonier Country Market's site, here, to learn more. They have not yet updated the vendor information, but I'm sure it will be changed soon.

Princess Pines

My "baby Christmas tree"

A few months ago Kevin and I took all the dogs up to Forbes State Park for a lovely winter hike. The scenery was beautiful, and we were walking along enjoying the fresh mountain air when we came across a small clearing. I was so excited to see hundreds of baby pine trees sprouting from the ground. I had been wanting to buy  a small evergreen to grow into a Christmas tree, but had not gotten around to it. Finding one in the wild was even better! Kevin picked two of them for me, and I planted them in cute little metal pots, eager to try out my green thumb skills.

That night, I was sitting on the couch admiring my little darlings, when I decided to google them; I wanted to make sure I was providing adequate lighting and water. I was very upset when I found out they were not baby pine trees, but actually a type of moss. They are nicknamed Princess Pines, but are not related to trees, and would never reach the grandiose height necessary for a future Christmas tree. Oh well, I think they look pretty darn cute in their pots, so I'm keeping them. So far moss is the only kind of plant I've managed to keep alive for more than a week, so I'm not complaining.

Country Decor Wreath Craft Idea

It's no surprise that as a country bumpkin, I LOVE country decor. Anything folksy, antiqued, and homey-looking is right up my alley, and I just cannot get enough! The town of Ligonier has tons of little shops and boutiques that specialize in such decor, and they are really fun to visit and browse. However, some of the merchandise is on the pricey side, and that's money that could be spent on dog food!

So...I like to make my own country crafts and decorations. The best place to find cheap materials is at WOW Outlets in Greensburg. They have tons of cute folksy decor, and it is so much cheaper than when purchased from a boutique. I have actually seen a lot of the same merchandise in both WOW Outlets and certain Ligonier shops, so I have no doubt in my mind that the shop owners take advantage of my little secret. 

I made the wreath shown below for around $6.00. Similar wreaths are displayed in specialty shops for $25 - $40! It was super easy to make, and I think it turned out pretty cute. Below is a list of the materials, and the price I paid at WOW:

Rustic wreath: $2.00

Cloth ribbon for bow: $1.00 for a whole spool

Stem and star garnishments: $3.50 per bunch

I have several of these hanging on walls,
and have even made them for gifts.

Meet Toby the Rescue Dog

 When we moved in together last year, my fiance and I each had two rescue dogs. Two dogs are perfect, and this is a perfectly normal number of dogs to have. Four dogs is approaching insanity, but is still doable. We are dog people though, and we persevered as only dog people can do. Well, we decided to step over that line of insanity when we took in a fifth dog, Toby.

     

 A few months ago, I was at work with my brother, Adam, enjoying the gorgeous Indian summer sunshine, while painting the deck on my dad's current flip-house. Things were going great until Adam's phone rang, and his girlfriend,Kristin, could be heard on the other end frantically telling him how she had found a dog. I was determined to not get involved, and I continued brushing thick white paint on rail after rail. However, a few moments later, when Kristin sent a picture of the dog, I knew he'd be coming home with me. The poor thing's ribs were sticking out, his toenails were horribly overgrown, and....his entire hind end was bald, except for a small tuft of red hair at the very tip of his tail. He was in a horrible situation, but comically resembled Mufasa, from the Lion King.


Believing it was sarcoptic mange, I  quickly took the phone and intervened, telling Kristin to guide the dog into her back yard, and keep him there until Kevin could bring the truck to pick him up. At this point, Kevin wasn't aware of my scheming.However, Kevin is a good boy, and knows better than to get in my way when I'm in rescue mode. He picked Toby up, as I had planned, and we took him home. I stopped and bought mange treatment on the way home, and doused him in the most disgusting smelling gunk I've ever inhaled. That night he had to stay tied to our porch, since we couldn't let him come in contact with our other pets. 

    
After taking Toby to the vet , I found out he was not suffering from mange. The skin scrape showed no sign of external parasites, which in a way, was good, since we no longer had to treat him like a leper. The bad news was, the vet suspected hypothyroidism; this is a common ailment in Irish Setters, and causes patterned hair loss. An expensive blood test was required to confirm this, and I decided to have this done. Toby was also given a cortisone injection to stop his excessive itching.

   
When the results came back, they showed Toby tested negative for a thyroid disorder. So, we really have no idea why he was bald. I suspect an iodine deficiency that temporarily threw his thyroid out of kilter. We have had him for about three months now, and with proper nutrition, he has been thriving. All of his hair has grown back, even though it is not as long and lush as most Irish Setters'. He is a wonderful dog, and has made himself right at home. We would like to find him a good home, though, since it's hard to give attention to five dogs. If you guys know of anyone looking for a great family dog, let me know and I'll give you more details! It's horrible how anyone could mistreat another living creature, just look at the before and after pictures below:

Before: Poor boy was sooo itchy, but look at those kind eyes.

Before: Waiting at Kristin's house for Kevin to arrive with his big red truck!

After: Look at what a happy boy he is!

After: He's still skinny, but has gained a lot of weight. I really wish I knew
who neglected him. Grrrrrr

Bringing Sexy Back...with Flannel

Flannel is wonderful in ways that no other material could ever hope to be. I'd even go so far as to call it the John Prine of materials...wow, trust me that says more than you could even comprehend. It's comfortable, durable, warm, wholesome looking, and in my opinion, just plain sexy. When you wear flannel, you are making a clear statement; you're like the Ricky Martin of lumberjacks (o.k. that's really not flattering at all, and creates a horrid visual), but you get what I mean. You're up for any task, and you will look damn good doing it.

I've been playing around with an idea for a business plan: flannel lingerie. What do you think?


For those of you who prefer more conventional methods of wearing flannel, check out this link to see shirts from one of my favorite companies, L.L Bean. All of their products I've ever purchased have been super comfortable and have worn really nicely. Plus, you get free shipping, even if you live in the boonies. Do you guys have any preferred clothing lines for flannel shirts?

                                                           

Word of the Day....

Ustacould (Use to Could) - Verb-ish? - origin: backwoods Nebraska  def: Use to be able to (do something)
EXAMPLE: Question: Can you drink that there 30 pack of PBR in a single sittin'? REPLY: Well, I ustacould, but I've been cuttin' back

No, I didn't steal this from Larry the Cable Guy. My fiance just happened to grow up in the same part of Nebraska as Larry, and apparently they really use this terminology out there. I am going to do my best to completely destroy the English language, and make this word commonplace in good old Western Pa.

I'm sure this man's vocabulary includes the word "ustacould"

John Prine is My Home-Boy

The great John Prine

Well folks, I am about to experience one of my life's biggest tragedies thus far. John Prine,yes,THE John Prine, is coming to the Benedum Center in Pittsburgh on March 2, and unfortunately I will be in Maui.  I know, I know, you guys are all thinking I'm lucky to be going on an 8-day tropical getaway; and yes, I must say I am very excited. However, why, oh why did fate have to be so cruel as to schedule this trip during the same time John Prine will be gracing Pittsburgh with his all-mighty presence?

      It may seem that I am blowing my bad luck out of proportion, however once you've listened to Prine, you'll understand. Or maybe, if you have absolutely no taste in music, you won't. Either way, I am pleading for you to at least listen to the song shown below. For all of you smarty-pants who've been doing some figurin', yes, my blog is named after this tune. It is my favorite diddy of all time, and will without a doubt, be my wedding song. 

C'mon, you have to give kudos to any song that includes the lyrics, "He ain't got laid in a month of Sundays / I caught him once, he was sniffin' my undies." Prine is a genius. 

For all you lucky people who will be home to attend this show of the century, ticket information can be found here.

Imatwang

Well guys, I coined a new word the other day! I do a little songwriting on the side, and I started thinking about how funny it is that all these new age country singers have big-time southern accents, even though most of them didn't even grow up in the sticks. I mean, they completely distort words, so "hell" becomes "hey-al", "something" becomes "sumpn", etc. Personally, I love this. Anyhow, I started writing a song about this phenomenon, and I decided to call it "imatwang".
     
Since moving to the country, I've found that Kevin and I are guilty of imatwang as well. Somehow, we have adopted a very hillbilly, southern dialect, even though neither one of us grew up anywhere near the south. A few months ago we ventured into the big city of Pittsburgh to go out for my friend's birthday. Boy, you should have seen the looks we got when we started calling each other "ma" and "pa" in the middle of the club. I have to work on controlling this in public, since those city folks just do not understand.

Composting 101

Me sending my compost pile back to it's maker

Try as I may to be ecologically conscious, I cannot get my compost pile to work. It sits by the shed, about 100 ft. from by back door, glaring at me in all its shiny plastic glory.  It looks so strange sitting there, like a looming alien form, against the backdrop of weathered, Ceylon blue barn wood. It is dome-shaped, about three feet tall, with vertical vents on the sides. The twist-off lid, a parody of user-friendliness, is covered with a pile of snow, challenging me to a wrestling match, in what is sure to be a true test of strength, will-power, and my extensive vocabulary of curse words.


I thought composting was easy; throw food scraps in, and they’ll rot and turn to dirt. I guess I never contemplated the science behind this miracle. Sure, I read what to put in: old  fruit, vegetable peelings, egg shells, straw, and even brown, unbleached paper, as well as what to avoid ,like  bones and meat scraps. I have been following   these rules to a T, yet my scraps will not rot! Every time I manage to win my battle with the relentless lid, I stare in dismay at the food scraps, still in their food scrap forms, glaring back at me. I can’t help but feel like a complete failure; really, how hard is it to make shit rot?

The other day, my frustration got the best of me, and I (Gasp) threw a banana peel right into the garbage, without even a sideways glance at the little green  bowl I use to collect scraps intended for the compost pile. I got a peevish satisfaction imagining this peel going to the dump, and rotting away into a pile of mushy, moldy gunk. Take that compost pile! I’ll make things rot!  My dog, Toby, shot a hesitant glance at my outburst, and I quickly walked away from the garbage can, very glad that dogs do not easily pass judgment.

So, I guess I’ll have to do my research on composting. It is clearly not as easy as I thought, but I am not yet ready to admit defeat. For some reason I think earthworms are the answer. Where will I get earthworms at this time of year? God only knows, but I will not rest until my scraps have rotted.

To Be, or Not to Be...A Hick

Ok guys, I have to admit that my last post really made me feel self-conscious about my self-implied hick status. So....I started wondering if I fit into this status, or am part of some glorified,  hick-sub/super culture. Below are the reasons I believe I am in the latter group!

1. Both my fiance and I have all of our teeth! :) (however, Merle the coonhound is missing quite a few)
2. We buy free-range eggs and organic milk (umm..disregard the fact we are getting our own chickens this spring)
3. We do not kill things to eat, nor do we eat road-kill
4. On the rare occasion that we venture into the big city, it is usually for an opera or ballet, or some other cultural event (even though we amuse ourselves by blasting Merle Haggard or George Jones, and laughing at the disgusted looks we get)
5. I don't normally go by by first and middle name (Lacy May sounds a little too much like a redneck stripper)
6. We currently do not have a couch or refrigerator on our front porch (although I am tempted....)

There ya have it! Just because we live in the country , does not make us hicks! I'm feeling a little better after having justified this fact.

You Know You're a Hick When......

Yep, these are the men in my life, Kevin and Merle. This picture  has led me to finally admit that yes, we  are hicks. There ya go, it's out for the whole world to see. At first, I thought we were just country bumpkins, but between the coonhound, Kevin's big red GMC, and my one-eyed cat, I now think we've moved on to a whole different class.

Don't worry, Merle did not actually consume any alcohol (Kevin wouldn't share ;) )

Muck Boots..A Country Girl's Best Friend

C'mon girls, admit it, these sh** kickers can out-stomp your stilettos any day! The boots pictured above, made by LaCrosse boot company, are the best I have found, and I've been through tons of muckers. They are made of a really thick, waterproof rubber, and when worn with a pair of thick, wool socks, are great for cold weather. These things are a must have for country living, since you can quickly slip them on to take the dog out, to go pick fresh taters from the garden, to wrestle that bear that just won't leave your compost pile alone and even to wade through the occasional B.S., when your significant other SWEARS it was the dog you drank the last of your strawberry wine!

I found these boots at my absolute favorite store in the world, Tractor Supply Co. There's a store conveniently located right off of Rt. 30, in Latrobe. They also have a website, www.tractorsupply.com

A Word of Warning:

It seems these boots are a man-magnet, and whenever I wear them in public, I am magically transformed into an irresistible goddess of mud and muck...and this is appealing to only a certain kind of (trust me) unwanted male attention. There is a very creepy 50-ish looking man who follows me around and praises my muck boots every time I go into the Ligonier Giant Eagle. Although his elite sense of style is to be applauded, I now make sure to switch into sneakers before entering this store. Funny, I haven't run into him since!

Ok all, go get yourselves a pair of muck boots, or two, or five...you can never have too many, and feel free to post pics! I'll talk to you tomorrow.

PBR and Countin' Nails

Well, it's looking like we're gonna have to stay in tonight, since even the 4-wheel is struggling with this weather! It's sooo cold out here, so we brought all the fur-kids in the sleep inside tonight. Let me tell you, we are going to have to bust out the PBR, because 5 big dogs in the house is insane! One game that we like to play on nights such as this is called count the nails. In this country game, we drink a few PBRs and then count how many nails we can stick inside the empty can! It's super fun and exciting! Ohhh...I sure hope we can beat last time's total....Just kidding...maybe..anyhow, hope everyone has a great weekend, and survives the snow. Stop back on Monday!

Hello Out There!

Hey all, I have decided to change my blog from Naturally Fido, to In Spite of Ourselves. This new blog will still involve dogs, but will encompass so much more. In this blog I'll talk about all aspects of living in the country. My fiance, Kevin, and I moved out to the boonies of Ligonier, PA last summer, and we could never be happier. We have no neighbors, chemical free well-water, room to roam, and most of all, peace of mind. I love country life so much, that I think it will make a great blog topic! You can look forward to posts about home-made recipes, holistic dog care, natural beauty remedies, composting and gardening, and so much more! In case you were wondering, the name of this blog comes from the title of a John Prine song, that describes the ideal, simple, pleasures of being in love, as it can only exist in the backwoods. Until next time!