Funny Farm or Animal Farm

This post has been in "draft" status since January 2010!!! We no longer have any of these critters. :(

In June 2009, we adopted (rescued) two cats (one white and one black) from a woman who worked in the same building in Hartford. She was a nice enough lady, but her house was so much of a mess that her disabled inlaws were put into a home, the health department threatened to condemn the house and she was warned that animal control would confiscate most of the 10 cats she had. Plus one of the cats was pregnant again. Her tales of woe led me to adopt two of the kittens. I brought them to Vermont and scheduled an appointment the next day to have them de-flead and de-ticked. After that, we planned to have them neutered and spayed. Well, the groomer called me and said that she had cleaned them several times and they still had fleas. Plus the little sniffles we were told the white one had was actually a possible viral infection. So we took them to the locate vet to have them treated and to schedule their neuter/spay appointment. And someone was pregnant with kittens...

My Pagima

My Pajima  (NSFW)

While Skyping with family, my beautiful 3 year old niece was being taught to clean herself after she “had bowel” with wipes. She proclaimed to her mother that her pagima was clean!

That reminded me of a puberty lesson last year with my eighth grade students. 22 of them!  Lots of laughter, lots of jokes.  After a lecture and discussion about puberty and pictures showing the changes from child to adult, students were asked to list changes that occur during puberty.  As you can imagine, the boys were rude, crude and obnoxious. Several of them were blurting "penis" throughout the lesson – I’ve been reminding them since the first day to use the correct term for body parts…  Here are some examples of their finished product.

One of the mail teachers checked in because we were so loud. When he realized what we were discussing he made an immediate about face. 

That’s What White Folks Do

When we moved to Vermont and started our collection of animals, my husband erected a fence that wasn't what I had in mind. For the entry way, he used an old door. I was so embarrassed. 

When one of the many folks who have come to offer technical assistance thought it was interesting and creative, I replied… it’s so ghetto. Ghetto is a term I never would have thought applied to me….  She told me living in mountains of Vermont, with animals, we weren't “ghetto”. We were now included in the “hick”category. I don’t know about stereotypes or the word “hick”. There are so many negative stereotypes about Blacks and other people of color. But I kind of liked that fact that we were being included instead of excluded. Something to ponder.

Regarding stereotypes: my husband has a new term: “That’s What White Folks Do”. He’s applied it to several things recently.

I was reading an article about water waste and was horrified by how much water we used just flushing the toilet. Depending on the size of the tank, it takes up to 7 gallons of water when you flush. While we are looking into water saving toilets, I had a thought on how we could conserve water.  Heard of the saying “When it’s yellow let it mellow, if it’s brown, flush it down?” Well I decided that I was going to flush ever 

other time it was yellow. I only do it in the upstairs bathroom, but my husband was horrified. Every time he goes in after I’ve been in there, I’ve heard him yell “that’s disgusting”. I don’t know why it bothers him. He pees in the front yard, off the deck, behind the garage. Anyway, when I explained my rationale, his response was “That’s what white folks do.” Doesn’t matter, I’m doing it now in protest of every disgusting thing he’s ever done! And there’s a lot.

We were offered an opportunity to acquire two male alpacas. Mark was in charge of getting the trailer to transport them from their old home to our new home. It was about 30 miles each way. We agreed to take them on a particular day. Well guess what, Mark didn’t take care of the trailer and wanted to postpone the transport. Postponing wasn’t an option. Since we don’t have a cover on our truck, I decided we could take out the seat in the back of my Jeep and transport them that way. I put down a tarp, and hay over the tarp and thought it was a perfect solution. I’d seen alpacas transported in the back of a Subaru, so why not? Again, my husband was horrified. We engaged in a minor verbal altercation before he yelled “that’s what white folks do.” I did it anyway. And you know what, it worked!

As an activity and fundraiser at the school where I teach, we hosted a Cow Plop. I asked one of the students about it. Basically, you plot out a grid on the ground (grass, concrete, asphalt, whatever) and everyone buys a square. Then you bring in a cow and if it “plops” in your square, you win money. I told my student “that’s disgusting”. She said it was disgusting. It was her cow they used. She said at first it wouldn’t go, then once it started going, it wouldn’t stop. When I told Mark about it he replied (all together now) “That’s what white folks do”.

Soul Woman

My first day or two at my new school as a brand new teacher and one of the other teachers is trying to be helpful, I think.


She says to me: I don’t know if anybody has mentioned to you that there aren’t a lot of people of color at this school…

This IS Vermont, right? So of course there aren’t a lot of people of color in this small town at this small school in Central Vermont. This school is 1/3 the size of the school where I student taught and worked as a paraprofessional last year. There were only a handful of us at that school. So I kind of figured this school would be even less diverse – if there is such a thing.

Then, I saw the school was seeking a girls’ middle school basketball couch. I inquired of the Athletic Director as to the time commitment and responsibilities of the position. I swear he was salivating – a Black woman inquiring about basketball. He couldn’t get out fast enough a date for a quick interview. It reminded me of a silly movie 20 years ago entitled Soul Man. Some guy dyes himself Black so he could get accepted into Harvard Law School under a Blacks only scholarship. When he goes to participate in a pick-up game of basketball, the two teams literally fight over who will get him. And he is a terrible basketball player. It was one in a string of hilarious stereotypes gone wrong.

I don’t got game. I know nothing of basketball. But since it’s a small school I thought it was a wonderful way to get involved, build relationships, have fun, and become more physically active. I planned to work on basic fundamentals. After a couple of days of snickering when I passed him in the halls, I finally confessed to the athletic director. He still wanted to meet with me. I believe his thinking is that an inexperienced woman might be a little better than a male parent for girl’s basketball. I had my first interview which went very sell. Second interview this week.  We shall see…



If I do take the position, when and if offered, I may just have to be concerned about parents and fans.

Mo Don't Wear No Flip Flops

Those were Mark’s words when I sent him a picture of flip flops Mo could wear in the house instead of his shoes.  Although I didn’t think they were his style, I thought he might like the fact that they were a name brand. 

I had offered to get him slippers or slip-ons, but TJ Maxx didn’t have them.  I knew whatever I found would need to be trendy in “gear”, Mo is very particular.  He told me he’d wear some Air Jordans – I didn’t even know they made Air Jordan slippers.  I’m going to have to look on eBay. Mo is always concerned with how he’s dressed. This is the guy who wore a jersey and matching sneakers to our engagement party.  Maybe he’s never been to an engagement party before, but a jersey and sneakers?

Mo is one of Mark’s best friends from Connecticut and has been staying with us for a month now. He originally planned to stay 3 or 4 days, but decided he might move here if he could find employment. I already told him, I want the room he is in rented in August – by him or student from the local college. Apparently he needs a change of pace. He’s been here several times previously, but apparently the timing is right for him now to possibly make a move. I get the feeling he’s trying to avoid one of his baby mamas… 

We live on a farm and no matter what we do to contain our animals, they are always getting loose. So we have pig shit, dog shit, cat shit, alpaca shit, chicken shit, goat shit, and sheep shit all over the place.  I try and warn people that we take our shoes off in the mudroom upon entering the house so we don’t track shit everywhere.  Mo has had some trouble heeding that warning, hence me offering to get him some house shoes.

Anyway, it will be interesting to see how well Mo fits in here. The mall in Burlington can’t really rival the malls in Connecticut or even Western Mass.  This is what he's wearing today.  His jean are apparently the same brand...

He already asked me where to find a "good place" to buy clothes and sneakers. “Not Walmart, but Black people’s clothes”.  Come on Mo, you know this is Vermont. I suggested TJ Maxx or Marshalls in Burlington.  Mark keeps telling him he’s a farmer now and seems to think he’s going to find himself a white girl and move into a trailer. Whenever Mark says that, Mo just shakes his head and chuckles.

“I know these dude's ballin, and yeah that's nice
And they gon' keep callin' and tryin'
But you stay right, girl
But when you get on, he leave yo' ass for a white girl

Get down girl, go 'head get down”

Drinking In Rural Vermont

In rural Central Vermont, there aren’t a lot of bars where one can hang out. People I know that drink alcohol, drink at home, or drive to a more populated area to imbibe, on occasion. So unless you notice what people are buying at the store, you might never know they drink alcohol– or how much. I was at the store the other day to buy a beer and a woman is watching me walk in. when I greet her, she asks me if I’m the new Health Teacher (more about that in later post). I explain I’m student teaching at the local school. Her daughter speaks ups and says that she will have me next semester. So after talking a few minutes I go to the back of the store and hide…until they leave. The last thing I need is for a 7th grader to tell everyone in school that she saw me at the store buying beer! I already stick out and don’t want to stick out for that too. I work at a hospital part-time since I went back to school... a patient came in that had recently been admitted to the hospital for vaginal bleeding, tremors, headaches, nausea and vomiting. Her diagnoses included alcohol-induced hepatitis. Her photo ID showed a woman who had full cheeks. In person, physically she was gaunt with facial lesions and looked to be about 60 years old. We are the same age! Her discharge papers indicated that she regularly drank 3-4 bottles of wine per day.

I went online to research conditions and diseases associated with drinking. They include liver disease, pancreatic disease, cardiovascular disease, gastrointestinal problems, neurological disorders, reproductive disorders, cancer, and psychiatric issues. Not to mention the social issues (like hiding in the back of the store to buy a beer). check out this picture http://www.infowise101.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/alcohol-effects2.jpg
I naturally thought about my drinking habits and although it would be wonderful to lose some weight, I don’t want to be in her position. When my husband called and asked me to pick up some beer on the way home – I emphatically replied "hell no". He thinks I've lost my mind...

I think I got the message about drinking.

“When you know better, you do better” Maya Angelou

Do Black People Camp?

When we moved to Vermont in May 2009, everyone we met had plans on going "to camp". It's some kind of 'thing' in Vermont. Everyone does it. They either rent or have a 'spot' where they always go. Some stay at camp for the summer, with those that work commuting from camp. Others go on weekends. And others go pitch a tent somewhere for a week every summer. But everyone in Vermont seems to "camp".

This year on Celebrity Apprentice, one of the challenges was to create a camping experience with motor homes. There were five Black celebrities: Little John, a rapper; Star Jones previously on The View; Nene Leakes some kind of reality star; LaToya Jackson, Michael Jackson's sister; and Dionne Warwick, singing legend. All the Black celebrities were of some means and all said some version of "I'm Black, I don't know anything about camping." Oprah had a special about camping in Yosemite, and asked the same question about Blacks camping.

I'm really into knitting and weaving and was introduced last year to the idea of Knit Camp. Knit Camp is going to a campsite for the weekend and hanging out while you knit.

It all seemed a bit too rustic to me. Who wants to empty their bladder or bowels in the woods? Not me. I really enjoy the concept of running water and toilet paper. Plus there are wild animals in the woods.

I do know Black people who camp, but camping is something I didn't think I would ever do. I really enjoy modern amenities too much. But I thought I would try it, especially since my husband Mark was interested in going as well. So last summer I signed us up for a weekend of camping – let me rephrase two days and one night of camping. First we had to ensure we had the accoutrements for camping. I checked with some folks and looked online to see how to prepare. We needed bedding which could include a tent, lights, eating and cooking implements, food appropriate for camping, bug spray, personal grooming items, the list goes on. I found out we would be in a lean to, which is basically an elevated open shelter. I went up early and picked out a lean to with some privacy. Don't ask me why – we are in the woods! But when I arrived I noticed there were no showers, and the toilets were a number of yards away. Also, there was no lighting. NO LIGHTING, so once it got dark it would be PITCH BLACK! But Mark would be there to protect me, right?

So we planned on taking my Jeep, but we had way too much stuff and decided to take our dog Dekken. So we took the truck so all out stuff could go in the bed. Because I felt the need to have a barrier between me and the outdoors, I purchased a very large tarp to cover the lean to opening. We decided to take the air mattress and a bunch of blankets instead of buying a tent.

I also purchased some chairs for hanging by the fire and off we went. We first stopped at the Hunger Mountain Coop. I wanted to get Fat Toad Farm Chevre and some crackers to share as munchies. While there, they had pre-cooked sweet and spicy wings that seemed perfect for our afternoon meal. We also picked up a pork loan which could easily be cooked on the fire outside our lean to. Plus some biodegradable wipes for personal grooming. We didn't have a small chest so we stopped at yet another store for a chest and ice to keep our beer and other beverages clean and cold. While I was in the store Mark was supposed to watch our items in the bed of the truck and Dekken. Apparently I took too long, so he came in to find me. When we returned to the truck and I got in the front seat, guess where our wings (for lunch) were? Dekken had devoured them! Lesson learned, right? So we finally make it the campsite after arguing about whose fault it was that w didn't have wings. We unloaded our things and proceeded to hang around the main campsite for the rest of the day chatting, knitting and eating. It was very nice, even if the composting closet was 50 yards away.

Dekken behaved, even with another dog along. We even went down to the lake, which Dekken promptly jumped into. He loved it although it was way too cold for humans. And we met a very nice couple who included the only other male in our group.

Did I mention my husband is a pyromaniac? Although there was a constant fire going at the main campsite, Mark insisted on having a fire as well at our little site, all day and all night long…

Then it was bed time. I had several flashlights that we used to get back to our lean to, and get ready for bed. We chained Dekken to the lean to so he wouldn't run off. In an adjacent site, which we couldn't see but could definitely hear, they were having what sounded like a young Christian retreat based on the songs, and other sounds. It was a lot of stimulation for Dekken, who behaved fairly well. But after clanking the chain one too many times, Mark decided to put him in the truck, with our leftover pork loin…however, Mark assured me that the food was appropriately secure. The dark atmosphere wasn't too bad except for the noises. There was an indistinguishable animal sound that Mark said was probably a moose. Who knows but it freaked me out. Unfortunately I was getting up every hour to empty my bladder against the side of the lean to due to all the beer I had consumed. Mark snored while I lay wide awake with one of our lanterns burning not so brightly. But we survived the night.

I had planned our breakfast to include the left over pork loin and eggs. Mark went to the car to let Dekken out and get our breakfast when I heard him swear, loudly. Guess who got into the food, again! Why didn't Dekken get into the chips and other junk food instead? Our neighbors (the nice couple) had mercy on us and shared their bacon and coffee. All in all, it wasn't a bad couple of days. In fact, we are planning to go back this year. I guess we're campers. Wish us luck!