Trees and Cats

A couple days before Thanksgiving,  my husband and I went Christmas tree shopping. We could finally fit a big tree in our abode! Previously, we were making due with a 3-foot tree that I had been putting up in my room since I was in sixth grade. It was time for an upgrade.We wanted a tree that was fake but looked real. I know a real tree would fit a "country" style better but cutting down a tree for a month of use does not really fit my inner hippie. It always makes me sad to see Christmas trees in the middle of the lake. Anyway, I digress.....

 We also wanted to put our own lights on it, but practically EVERY tree we found was prelit. We know how to put lights on a tree! We went to Target, Home Depot, and the other usual culprits, but all of the unlit trees were hideous. We ended up at Sears. They had our dream style of tree, but it was, of course, prelit. We hadn't found a tree that looked like this at any of the other stores, so we ended up relenting and decided to invest in some wire cutters. Although the tree came in both colored and white lights, we picked the white because we're racist the colored ones weren't very pretty. 

Dharma wishes you a Merry Christmas...kinda

The tree is now wrapped in pretty colored LED lights. We have yet to cut out the white lights, because they are easy to ignore. We turn both the white and colored lights on when we want that Griswold Christmas vibe.

To conclude, I share these pictures with everyone to raise your Christmas spirits!

Dharma got chickies and air pockets in her stocking!

Feliz NOM-idad!

The First Thanksgiving

When I say the "first" Thanksgiving, I don't mean the one in which the Native Americans saved the pilgrims. I mean the first Thanksgiving that I've had at our new place, in which I (sorta) played the part on the Native Americans and my extended family (not really) played the part of pilgrims. They have yet to come back and demand my land, so I'm feeling pretty good.

Thanksgiving was a big deal to me this year because it was my first time cooking a turkey. Also, it was my first time hosting a party of 10+ in which the guests weren't expected to graze off a bag of chips, a vegetable plate, and whatever beer could be found in the fridge. This was a CLASSY meal and my first attempt to prove that I was in fact edging my way into adulthood.

My first issue was that I was missing some of the key classy kitchen supplies. When my husband and I were registering for wedding presents, we were living in an apartment with a kitchen the size of a broom closet. I enjoy cooking, but I knew I could not fit half the stuff I wanted in the kitchen. I had to pass on the items that were use-once-maybe-twice-a-year-if-you're-lucky types of things, so I was missing those all important Thanksgiving dinner items: butter dish, gravy boat, and a turkey roasting pan. I know I referred to this as an issue, but it was the best issue to have. It gave me an opportunity to visit Pryde's, the wonderful, local, hole-in-the-wall kitchen store in downtown Westport. They have kitchen crap piled EVERYWHERE. It's orderly, but it's certainly no Bed, Bath, and Beyond. Every inch of this store is taken up, and they have every kitchen doo-hickey you could imagine. I got to enjoy a free cup of coffee while I ogled their gigantic supply of Fiestaware. We got a lot of beautiful Fiestaware for our wedding, and I wanted to continue the colorful trend in my Thanksgiving service. I hadn't been able to find a Fiesta gravy dish in the larger retail stores, and Pryde's had them in every color of the rainbow. I got a beautiful lemongrass gravy boat, because what goes better with brown gravy than bright green (just go with it). My parents, either out of love or trying to make sure I didn't embarrass myself during my first Thanksgiving, rounded out my collection with a Fiesta butter dish in flamingo and a stainless steel turkey roaster.

Just like the pilgrims used hundreds of yeas ago.

So I had my kitchenwares; now I needed to put them to use. It's overwhelming how many different turkey recipes are out there, but lucky for me, Food Network Magazine's November issue was really an idiot's guide to Thanksgiving. I used their basic recipes to make what I think turned out to be a pretty darn good turkey. My gravy was so good that my dad said so, which is a big deal coming from a man who has worked in and around the restaurant industry most of his adult life. My husband made his signature mashed potatoes, and the rest of my family filled in the gaps with all of their delicious sides.

20lbs of beauty

Apparently making a turkey was not a enough of a challenge, so I also made my own centerpieces based on something I had seen on Pinterest. With the guidance of my husband, I (mostly him) drilled small holes from the tops of gourds and inserted votives. I don't know how safe it was to have open flames on the table as my family handed dishes back and forth, but no one caught on fire from my festive table decorations. I think I learned in leadership class and from Stephen Covey that this is what we call a win-win situation. They win by not being caught on fire. I win because something I took from Pinterest actually worked out.

Don't burn yourself reaching for the butter!

Pinterest FTW

Overall, the first Thanksgiving at our country home was a success. Both the food and the company were exceptional. My favorite part was seeing my family sitting on our porch, swinging on our tree swing, kicking the bouncy ball, using our playset, and enjoying each other's company. It's a great way to break in a home.

Fall is in the Air

Fall is in the air and so are all the leaves. Well, they're actually ALL OVER my yard. I know I should have seen this coming, but we bought our house in March when all the trees were barely getting their leaves back. I loved how many trees we had in our yard because I was getting tired of all the pansy, just-planted-because-we-tore-out-all-signs-of-life trees in the suburbs. But with so many trees comes a bajillion leaves. What are we to do? I have a fence, so I can't just wait for them to blow into my neighbors' yards. Is it really worth it to put 100 compost bags of leaves on the curb? (I've seen the houses that said "Yes" to this last question, and I secretly judged them.)

"We laugh leaves in your general direction! Bwhahahahaha!"

My dad told me that if I mowed frequently enough, the mower would mulch all the leaves. I rode the John Deere around the yard a couple of weekends ago, and I was fairly satisfied to see grass in my lawn again. BUT a storm came that night and knocked all the rest of the leaves in my yard. I'm fully prepared to go back and mulch the yard again, but now I have to deal with the piles of leaves that have nestled themselves on my back porch. Mr. Deere can't get into these nooks.

Blerg.

My father-in-law has so graciously offered to lend us his leaf sucker/mulcher thingy to tackle this project, but we're going to wait and make sure the trees don't have any more leaves to throw at us. I think this will mean more compost bags than I would prefer to put out, but my only other option would be to collect all the leaves and make thousands of leaf pressings in wax paper. I'm pretty sure I'm losing country-cred either way since I should be burning all of this.

On a final note, HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I'm not sure if we'll get any trick-or-treaters out here (which is sad), but we have a lot of candy (which is happy). Maybe I should give out waxed paper pressed leaves?

Hedge Apple Hell

      I have always enjoyed seeing green hedge apples strewn across open fields. In fact, I like them so much that they made a guest appearance in my engagement photos. But my love was lost when I realized I had one of those prolific trees sitting it my front lawn.

"Let's make sure to not buy a house with a hedge apple tree after we get married." "Okay, I'll try to remember that."

     When we bought our house, I noticed that there were some hedge apples around the base of our front trees, working almost as a mulch. They eventually decomposed, summer came, and I didn't see any hedge apples for a few months. 

This is my second bin today.

     A handful of hedge apples started showing up in my yard a few weeks ago, but the squirrels made quick work of them. Unfortunately, the squirrels have not been holding up their end of our hedge apple bargain (many of my other trees have nuts of them now, so I get to enjoy the gentle crashes of discarded nut shells hitting my roof in the morning). My front yard, my driveway, my cul-de-sac, and my neighbors' yards are now covered in hedge apples (it doesn't help that I live on a hill!). While I would have probably let them mellow, I felt bad that my neighbors had to deal with my hedge apples, so I've started picking them up when I get home from work. I took a page from the previous homeowners, and I've been using the hedge apples as a pretty mulch (also I'm too lazy and cheap to buy mulch). 

fml

     Picking up the hedge apples has become more of an endeavor than I expected. Every time I think my hedge apple tree is done dropping its bundles of joy, I wake up to find my yard once again covered. But after getting two bins full today, I'm convinced they're almost all gone. We'll see.......

Please let this be the last bin of the season!

  

The Spirit of Making

When you live in the suburbs, you're close to about everything your consumer-driven heart could want. Before I moved to our country home, I lived in between two major shopping centers. I could turn right OR left out of my apartment complex and be at Target in five minutes. With everything within reach, or at least close enough to be shipped to us in two business days, I think we've lost the ability to make or to even think about making stuff for ourselves. Yet, I feel that with a more country-esque environment comes a spirit of making.

This spirit of making afflicted my husband back when our country home was just a twinkle in our eye. He's a computer engineer, so his brain is always thinking of cool things to make/build/crush Windows. When he asked me a few years ago if I wanted to go to a Maker Faire in San Francisco, I agreed without really knowing what I was getting  myself into. Turns out it was a super cool two-day event where people show off the stuff they make. Yes, there were women with quilts and other crafts, but it was predominantly neat (Chill out. Quilting is neat too.) projects like a robot giraffe and a bike the draws as you pedal. There were soldering (pronounced sod-dering) stations that taught kids (and perhaps twenty-something ladies who dated engineers) to solder and make cool electronic kits. Adam Savage from Mythbusters spoke on the main stage. Overall, it was just a neat event that encouraged everybody to deconstruct and reconstruct the world around them, to know how things work, and to make. 

Who knew molten lead could be so fun?

Adam Savage is a righteous dude.

The spirit of making stayed with us after San Fran, and lucky for us, Kansas City has held its own Maker Faire twice already. Now that we're in our own home, and free to use power tools at all times of the night, my husband and I have set forth making that which we could have bought from the store or internet but preferred to try on our own.

Project #1- The Cat Tree

We got out a wooden ladder to replace a light bulb in our living room in our apartment one day. The ladder is now and has been a (semi) permanent fixture in all my living rooms. Why? My cat LOVES it. She races up and down the rungs, sharpens her nails on it, and sits on the "This is NOT a step" section while watching birds out the window. As you may imagine, I'm not too stoked about a ladder in the main area of our house, so my husband agreed that we needed a cat tower. When we looked at the ones at big chain pet stores, we weren't excited about the designs or the prices, so my husband decided to build one himself. Not only was it cheaper (if you don't count all the tools he bought to create it), but it had all the elements that our cat, Dharma, would love: a ladder, a hammock, and plenty of looky-outy places. Behold the awesome cat tree:

Note the ladder right next to it. We're slowly weaning her off it.

Dharma tries out her hammock. My husband  made that too!

Project #2- The Necklace Holder

I joined Pinterest around the time we moved. It has been an excellent resource for cool country-inspired crafts. One of the things I saw and liked was a necklace holder made out of a scrap of wood and door handles. I found some beautiful (and well priced!) handles at World Market. With the help of a drill (and my husband), I had a cool necklace holder in minutes. 

Follow me on Pinterest by clicking on the link on the right hand side of this page. You may enjoy my board "Country Home."

There are still a lot of projects we have up our sleeves. My next project (c/o Pinterest) will be to turn a mason jar into a soap dispenser. I'll let you know how that turns out!

SPEAKING OF MAKING Bike MS is less than two weeks away! I made my goal (thanks to some lovely people), but I'm trying to help my dad make his. He's only $45 from his goal, so if you have a few dollars to throw his way, he and I would certainly appreciate it. Donate here!

We (sorta) Bought a Zoo

I thought the deer that wandered behind our apartment were pretty amazing, but our new house is Wild Kingdom in comparison. Yes, we also have deer at the house, but we also have so much more!

During my first few days at the house, I noticed a rather large bird in our backyard, and I had no idea what it was. I described it to my dad as pheasant-looking, to which he replied, "It's probably a turkey." A turkey?! This bird did not look like the five-fingered, colorful drawings of my childhood. It was brown and boring. I was not convinced it was a turkey until a couple days later when a male turkey with one of those red things I used to draw on my Thanksgiving turkeys' necks came tromping through my yard. He looked more like a turkey. We have had tons of turkeys come through our yard since, and nothing is more entertaining than watching them awkwardly run away from you. Don't worry - I'm not chasing them. They run away even if they see me move in front of the back windows.

Dharma and turkey have a stare down.

 Another fun guest we have had in our yard is the box turtle. Both my husband and I have a love of turtles that stems from our youth when we brought box turtles home, fed them strawberries, and cried when they (surprisingly) ran away. I have a knack for intruding on turtle nappy times in my garden. My favorite moments are when I look out the kitchen window and see turtles trucking through my yard.

Ahhh! He's so cute.

"Gotta go! There are some strawberries in your garden calling my name."

These are just a couple of animals out of many. The rest have been too fast, stinky, or scary to take photos of. I have seen a raccoon explore my backyard and then climb the tree right next to the house. I have smelled skunks and had the pleasure of finding skunk body parts in my front planter (if it was skunk fight club, no one would tell me about it.) I saw two cute skunks running euphorically side by side in a neighbor's yard, but I did not see a live skunk in my yard until a couple weeks ago. He was cute, but I didn't pet him.

One of the most curious and elusive findings was the skink. I had no idea that there were lizards in Kansas. When I saw lizards on walls in Puerto Rico and Hawaii, I thought, "Wow, we have nothing like this in Kansas." FALSE. We have skinks with blue tails. They're fun to watch on my back patio as they chase bugs.

This is an artistic rendering of what a skink in my backyard might look like.

Other fun reptile findings include small toads and large snakes. I have found small toads enjoying the mist of my garden. I have also found them stuck to my front windows at night. I've just seen one snake. I got out of the car one day and saw a gigantic snake sitting in front of my garage. He looked a little disfigured, and I was worried he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when my husband left for work that morning. However, the snake was gone when I checked on him later.

Other than all the animals I have seen, I have heard howling outside my window at night and have yet to figure out what it was. I'm pretty sure it's Jacob from Twilight, but Kansas is pretty far from Washington.

So if you're ever bored and hankering to see some animals, come on down to the Smuber Zoo. Admission is free, and we take no responsibility for what you think is okay to touch.

Days of our Spiders

I've been spending a lot of time at home this summer because I only had to teach one course online. When you're home alone for as long as I am, you may get a little stir crazy. One way I've kept myself entertained is by making up names and situations for the daddy long legs that have gotten into the house. I haven't seen daddy long legs in these numbers since my parents and I lived in a house in Missouri right next to a forest. While my suburban tendency would be to kill them all, I have spared them and enjoyed their bug-eating company.

There are daddy long legs all over the outside of our home, and I guess to keep warm on 100+ degree days, they have been huddling themselves together.

Spider huddle!

They also creepily look in the glass panes that are on either side of our front door. A few have made their way into the house and set up bug-eating shop on my ceiling. While my normal reaction would be to reintroduce these guys to their maker, I have become a softy and a budding spider drama novelist. These are the days of our spiders.....

The first daddy long legs we found was in our bathroom. His life was spared due to my lack of height, and the longer he stayed, the more I grew used to him. Yes, it was a little frightening that he was always hovering over the part of the bathroom I needed to use, but he seemed sure-footed. He became Aragorn after my husband confused spider and strider. A jealous daddy long legs tried to come and unseat Aragorn, but this spider, who we named Boromir, unfortunately came into the bathtub and suffered a watery death. Aragorn reigned supreme for about another week, but unfortunately, he met his end last night. He wasn't in the bathroom when I took a shower last night, which worried me. I was even more worried (ie frightened to death) when I found him chilling in my sink. I figured he'd return to his rightful place, but I found him dead on our jacuzzi this morning. Who knows if he was poisoned, batted to death by my cat, or killed off by old age. I have my theories..... RIP Aragorn.

These three are currently in my office. Notice their love for huddling. When there were just two, my husband and I referred to them as Peter Parker and Mary Jane. A third, Octavius, entered the scene and a few days later had joined the huddle. I'm not quite sure how their story will unfold, but I will probably watch as I prepare syllabi and my fall online course over the next couple weeks.

I'm pretty sure I've guaranteed that no one will ever visit my house again.......

Pumpkins...in July?

I love fall. It is the best season hands down. I love the beautiful leaves (especially the orange ones, as you will see below), the crisp weather that coaxes me into cardigans, the pumpkin spice lattes, the comfortable bikes rides, and the celebration of my glorious birth. Yet, it is not TRULY fall until I see pumpkins showing up in front of grocery stores. I have had a love affair with pumpkins since I was a child; I can't get enough of their orangey roundness. But something has happened this year that has thrown my seasonal clock out of whack. THIS happened:

Pumpkins in July? Does not compute.

I started pumpkin seeds in the apartment after we had decided to buy our house. We went away for a few days to visit a friend in Ohio, and when I came back...BAM! A pumpkin sprout had punched a chunk a dirt out of the way and was greedily taking in the sunlight. By the time we moved in the house, the pumpkin plants were becoming so tall that they couldn't hold themselves up anymore. After I cleaned up the garden space, I immediately transferred the pumpkins to their new home. They went crazy! I had no idea how much space they could take up.

"Watch out!" says that tomato plant. (If you haven't seen the Honeybadger video, this comment isn't funny to you. Also, get some culture.)

Kansas has been unseasonably warm (which is why those leaves are so droopy, don't judge) which has caused a lot of crops to show up earlier than usual. My pumpkins have been no exception. As of last week, I have picked THREE pumpkins. THREE! And they aren't even advertising pumpkin spices lattes yet...

Needless to say, I'm experiencing an existential crisis that only a person who is just teaching one online class this summer (and mostly watching Korean romantic comedies) could have. Pumpkins used to bring me so much joy, but outside of fall, they seem out of place. I even question if I'll grow them next year because I've taken away the need to go to a pumpkin patch, an annual tradition for my husband and me. But on the less emo side, it was fun to see them grow, and I know they will last and be beautiful until Halloween and beyond. You might be thinking, "Can't she just put them in her basement until fall?" The answer is no. That's sad. 

Until fall comes, I'll just have to appreciate the pumpkins and find something to pass the time.......

The many things in my kitchen that are orange, i.e., passing the time.

 

Where the Sidewalk Ends: Exercising in the Country

When we lived in an apartment in the suburbs, my husband and I frequently used the paved trail that was easily accessible from our backyard. The trail was great for leisurely walks or sweat-inducing bike rides (when the trail wasn't under construction and the city wasn't lying about completion dates, we could go on 20+ mile bike rides). On the days we wanted some different scenery, we walked across the street to stroll around the park or trekked on the winding sidewalks through the nearby subdivision. 

While we had numerous walking options, we were pretty much stuck riding our bikes on the trail or schlepping our bikes on the car to safe, low traffic locations. Although I saw a couple brave souls riding their bikes on the busy street that ran in front of our apartment complex,  I was not going to put my life or my bike's life in the hands of any of those drivers. Even the trail was getting a little dangerous. I can't tell you how many parents, with three children under five on tricycles on the wrong side of the trail and a dog with its leash stretched across the trail, were diligently playing Words with Friends on their iPhone while simultaneously guaranteeing my certain doom. No matter how many times you ring your bell or shout, "On your left!", you're still forced to bring your bike to a complete stop as the parent eyes you as if you almost killed his/her children and not the other way around. I'm not saying bikes are innocent in this case; my dad was just recently pummeled by a cyclist who cut a corner on the trail going 1,000,000 mph. Don't worry- my dad is okay, and the other guy got 20 stitches. Anyway, my main point is that the streets weren't safe and neither were the trails.

Enter our new location in the country. There are no sidewalks, and honestly, I don't see a lot of use for them because I rarely see people out walking/running/biking. Lack of sidewalks didn't put a damper on our walks though. Apparently, you can walk on the street! Despite some unleashed, barky, charging dogs, the walks are safe and have offered really beautiful views.We see more cats than cars when we go on our strolls, and the plethora of "God Bless America" mailboxes is just something you have to see for yourself.

Okay, this is more of a yellow field than a green one, but it's still neat to see.

The bike routes available to us are the best part. Who needs a trail when you can go ride on the road and count the number of cars you see on one hand? Instead of children, yappy dogs, and iPhones, you are greeted by horses, geese with their awkward molting babies, cows, green fields, old-timey country homes, and wide open spaces (yes, the kind the Dixie Chicks sang about). While you do have to be a little mindful of traffic and people, you are able to spend more time working on your fitness and your pedal stroke. Best of all, you don't have to worry about the next yorkie that's going to clothesline you.

Don't worry, honey! This is a yorkie-free zone!

Speaking of bike rides, I'm going on a big one in September to help benefit people with multiple sclerosis. If you'd like to support me and help people living with MS, please donate on my Bike MS fundraising page. My best friend and a few of my family members have been diagnosed with MS, so this cause is close to my heart. Please help if you can. No amount is too small. Thanks!

Building Fences

When we first met one of our next door neighbors, he promptly told me that his turkeys and deer were going to eat my garden. Apparently, he feeds the wild turkeys and deer that run through our neighborhood, thus making them his. Having a garden was one of the things I had most looked forward to when we were looking to buy a country home.Our home already had a garden when we bought it, and it took me days to clean it up (it was buried in dead grass and leaves), till it, and plant our fruits and vegetables. I was not going to let the deer, turkeys, et al. ruin my hard work. I had seen the tears and rage that tomato-eating squirrels had brought upon my parents and my in-laws. I would not be part of it. We needed to build a fence.

When you go to the Home Depot gardening center, the only fencing you see are cutesy decorative wire ones. Deer eat these for breakfast and then continue on to eat your tomatoes. I read that I would need a 7+ foot fence to keep deer out. A serious fence like this requires a serious trip to Tractor Supply (okay, you can buy this stuff at Home Depot in the fencing department, but Tractor Supply was having a sale). I bought some t-posts and a roll of 5ft high garden fencing. Each t-post came with four clips. The word clip made me think of a chip clip, and how easy are those to use? EASY.

Clips? I don't remember needing pliers to close my chip bag.

On fence building day, my husband and I busted out the heavy metal tube we had purchased for beating the posts into the ground. I'm sure the neighbors cursed us for purchasing the house as loud metallic clangs punctured the air at 9 in the morning on a Saturday. We put a post every 6ft (which is what you're supposed to do) and then rolled out the fencing around the posts. Then came the hard part. The "clips" we had been given were not clip-like at all, and we were at a loss to how these were supposed to hold the fencing against the t-post. 

Close but no cigar.

My husband (the engineer) eventually hacked the clips into submission with this arrangement------------------------------------------------>

Imagine the fence in between the two clips. While this was kind of keeping the fence against the post,  it was fairly loose. We finally admitted defeat and consulted the all-knowing You Tube. After watching a couple videos, we realized it only took one clip and a good pair of pliers. So much for calling it a clip. We put about two clips on each post, one at the top and one at the bottom, and called it a fence.

This is how you do it! Viva la You Tube!

We built the fence over a month ago, and so far, I have been the only living creature to harvest my garden. I'm hoping this continues because if not, we will have to start looking at electric fences.....

The finished product. Please don't judge my droopy pumpkin leaves. Kansas has been very hot recently. They were watered thoroughly after the photo shoot.

Septic Tank Etiquette

We found out early on that if we wanted to live in the country, we were going to have to have a septic tank. I really didn't know what that was, but I was willing to do anything if it meant getting our dream country home. Yet, with a septic tank comes certain behaviors you must adhere to in order to prevent stinky septic disasters.

A septic tank is a giant tank (who would have thought?!). Our tank is buried in our backyard, and you can access it through a top that looks like a manhole cover. All of our wastewater is pumped into our septic tank. Once in the septic tank, solids are broken down and the wastewater is eventually absorbed by the soil. The tank has to be pumped every few years to get out the sludge that accumulates.

You have to be a little more careful with what you throw down the drain when you have a septic tank. When we first met the septic tank inspector, he spent most of his time talking to my husband (country culture will be another post...), but then he turned to look at me and said something to the effect of, "Unfortunately, ladies have a harder time with a septic system than men do. I'll talk to you about that later." Most ladies will recognize that this 50+ gentleman wanted to talk to me about my menstrual cycle, which I certainly was not in the mood for (I feel like there's a joke here). Fortunately, he forgot to talk to me about it, and I pretty much knew what to do now.

The septic tank inspector sent over a lot of materials about how to care for a septic system, and I learned that there is a lot you can't throw down the drain. The garbage disposal was a no-no, but we had, thankfully, started using a compost bin already. You can't put harsh chemicals, especially bleach, down the drain because they could kill the bacteria in the tank that help break down the goodies that do end up down there. You also can't pour grease down the drain, but honestly, no one should do that anyway. Most importantly, you can't put anything in the toilet besides toilet paper and the other usual suspects. Since a lot of my friends and family do not have septic systems, I wanted to find a discrete way to let those using my toilet know not to throw forbidden items in the toilet.

I searched online forums for suggestions for signs I could make and post in my bathroom. Talk about a goldmine. My favorite postings were from individuals that thought it was inappropriate and embarrassing to acknowledge that your guests did anything in the bathroom but powder their noses. But the people who had complete septic failure due to one wrong thing down the toilet had some interesting warnings/poems/threats posted. Here are some of my favorites:

• "Don't put trash in my toilet and I won't poop in your trash can." (I'd be too afraid to use this person's toilet)
• "In the woods, our toiletry is sensitive to all of thee, except the obvious necessity!" (The Shakespeare version)
• "You shouldn't flush anything you haven't eaten or wouldn't eat." (Classy)
• "Those of us with septic tanks, Would like to give a word of thanks, For putting nothing in the pot, that isn't guaranteed to rot. Kleenex is bad, cigarettes too, Feminine products are taboo, No hair combings please - use the basket. There's a very good reason why we ask it. With your kind cooperation We'll keep our tank in operation!" (Dr. Seuss's version-- I think I'd feel more inclined to ignore the sign if I have to suffer through this poem)

I decided to go with something short and sweet: "We use a septic system - please do not flush any products other than toilet paper." When I get the chance, I plan on printing this saying on some classy paper, placing it in a small frame, and posting it where guests can see it.

Now that you know the etiquette, please be responsible septic tank users.

FARM 101: An Introduction to Seeking Rural Life

Howdy, y'all!! Just kidding, I'm not that country. You can take the girl out of the suburbs, but you can't take the suburbs out of the girl.

For my first post, I would like to tell you a little about myself and tell you how I came to be a suburban girl seeking rural life. I grew up in the suburbs of Kansas City for the majority of my life. Any exposure I had with the country came from going to family reunions in rural Missouri where many of my family members lived on acres of land and raised various livestock. As a suburban girl, I couldn't believe they had to drive more than 30 minutes to the grocery store.

As I grew up in the 'burbs, I became a good Starbucks-drinking, Target-loving suburbanite. Yet, when it came to choosing a college, I ended up going to Kansas State University, a large state school about two hours west of Kansas City in the middle of pretty much nowhere. I could have gone to the more suburb-friendly University of Kansas (30 minutes from home), but I was unimpressed with their tour (sorority girl bragging that you can be dunked in the fountain on your birthday....giggle). I did go there for my master's degree though, so don't think that I don't like the school. I chose K-State because they bragged about how many Fulbright scholars they had; that's how you impress me.

When I arrived at K-State with my best friend, we were aghast that Manhattan (where K-State is located) neither had a Starbucks nor a Target (gasp!). In the four years I was went to school in Manhattan, the city eventually got a Target and a Starbucks. Target was hard to ignore (there weren't a lot of options), but by the time Starbucks was built during my senior year, I had already found a favorite local coffee shop that I thought was much better. I enjoyed that Manhattan offered beautiful bike rides on country roads, great hikes through the prairie, and really friendly people from all over Kansas. I started to prefer this type of environment over the one I had been raised in. It's funny because my parents always talked about how much better it would be to live in a more rural environment in an older home on a little bit of land, and now I wanted that too.

My boyfriend bought a house in the suburbs of Kansas City during my senior year of undergrad. I was disappointed when we rolled up to a fairly new cookie-cutter suburban house in a tiny-treed subdivision. This was not my dream house. Lucky for me, he soon realized this was not his dream house either. As we spent our weekends together ( I was two hours away, remember?), we started imagining our dream house. We wanted land (ie- more than 5 ft between our house and our neighbor's) and everything the homeowner's association (HOA) said we couldn't have: a garden, a compost pile, and a pick-up truck that doesn't have to be moved every week to appease the HOA. Also, we didn't want a HOA.

My boyfriend sold his house after we got engaged, and we moved into an apartment. We got married in June 2011, and we realized we could start looking for our house. We started looking for our dream house in March 2012. We looked in more rural areas around Kansas City, but we hit a handful of duds: a house that turned out to be a trailer home on a foundation, the perfect house but right next to a highway, the perfect house with a 45+ minute drive to work during rush hour, etc. The house we ended up buying was one we almost didn't go to see because of the picture on the website. As we pulled up, our realtor said, "I've got a good feeling about this!" We soon did too.

We now live in a home on an acre of land. We now have a garden and a compost pile. The town we live in is a weird mix of country and suburb, as the suburbs slowly grow westward. The town doesn't have a grocery store, though, so it still feels small. We've only lived here for two months, but I'm slowly learning how to make a garden grow, how to make compost, how to get along with country folk, how to ride a lawn mower, how to raise chickens, and how to become a country girl. These are my trials and tribulations. I hope you can learn from my mistakes, or at least be amused by them.