theuncensoredhomsteader-blog

[theuncensoredhomsteader-blog]

Tis the season.

I guess I would like to take a second and talk about family gatherings:

I took the time this year to raise 30 Cornish Game Hens for my family gathering on Thanksgiving this year. Cornish Game Hens are basically mini chickens. You raise them for 8-10 weeks (or until they are the size you desire), then you process them. The 8 weeks that they are alive, all they do is eat, poop, and sleep. They stink, they’re loud, and they are NOT a desirable thing to be raising in your basement.

Anyway, I took the time this year to raise a single chicken for each and every person that was going to be coming to Thanksgiving Dinner this year, then some.

To start the story, I must get anyone up to speed with the crazy, weird uncle that every single family has (P.S. if your family doesn’t have a weird uncle, you are probably it). ANYWAY, the weird uncle comes to every family gathering that we have just for the food.

How is he weird you ask? WELL. LET. ME. TELL. YOU:

-His daughter, my cousin, is emancipated from him.

-He doesn’t work, then continues to be jealous of my boyfriend and I FOR WORKING OUR ASSES OFF to have a house, and small hobby farm.

He definitely has a weird comb over going on

He likes to think that his shit don’t stink.

Waste of space, essentially.

Ok, OK, back to the story, now. I haven’t had any sort of relationship, or communication with this guy for years. He complains to my grandmother that I don’t talk to him. HELLO. PHONES WORK BOTH WAYS YOU DING DONG.

My parents have never ever made my sister or I talk to people, or hug people that we don’t want to. Family included. So, naturally, I don’t talk to, or hug this guy.

So, family and friends come to Thanksgiving dinner, and we make our announcement to 20 people that we are having Cornish Game Hens this year instead of turkey. Everyone ate, took home leftovers, had a great time.

Everyone thanked the boyfriend and I for raising and processing dinner.

Let me repeat:

Everyone thanked the boyfriend and I for raising and processing dinner.

Except for....

...You got it, weird uncle.

I guess the point of this post is, stay strong through the holidays, you’re halfway there to being done with weird family members for another year. YOU CAN DO IT!

[theuncensoredhomsteader-blog]

As mentioned in my blog post, here is my best friend to the moon and back times ten.

Spent the weekend in Virginia visiting my best friend. We stopped to see Bo, who just adores kittens :)

[theuncensoredhomsteader-blog]

Welcome

So, I guess a first blog post wouldn't be as official if I wasn't sitting on the crapper, thinking about what to say. I should first warn you that I have never written a blog before, and therefore, I kind of do what I want. I'm not politically correct, I have my opinions that are MINE. If you don't like it, the door is right over there where ever your door is. With that, I guess I should tell you about myself:

I'm on my third year of a business degree. I probably won't mention that much until I'm bitching about it (which does happen often). My life revolves around my small farm, which consists of my three horses:

Hoot: 13 year old morgan pony (also referred to as Satan's Spawn)

Empire: 30 year old retired Amish saddlebred whose life revolves around acting like the sky is falling.

Gracie: 5 year old morgan mare who is (has to be) the center of attention no matter what.

My ungodly amount of chickens (I'm getting more on Saturday)

My goats, Jackie and Georgia, who are full sister's. They faint.

Chloe: my lab/pit

Boyfriend: we call him Fritz.

My best friend plays a somewhat important role in what keeps me sane. We both love horses, farming and talking mad shit about people we don't like.

During the summer, I spend the majority of my time working, and attending horse shows.

Come winter, I put more time into school and work and tend to get lazy when it comes to working horses, or extra curricular activities for that matter.

With that, I don't know how consistsnt these posts will be; but I can tell you they will be worth following.

So, welcome to the shit show.