Faux Farm Girl

Turn yourself into a dog.

ann — Fri, 14 May 2010 03:12:32 +0000

Jilly’s science teacher gave them their homework assignment through a talking dog. When I saw that I said - “WOW I want to be a talking dog too”. So off I went to voki.com. It’s free to use so just register and log in. Create your character, change backgrounds and record. If you don’t have a microphone on your computer you can text the message and they will give you a voice or use the phone option. Put in your phone number, your phone rings, you record and viola - your voice is now coming out of the character you created. You can add it to a blog, send it in an email or Face Book. Your kids will love it, but you might just love it even more. tomorrow I am going to be a poodle!

Those French!

ann — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 03:38:28 +0000

Donny came downstairs this morning to find a brand new copy of Avatar on the kitchen counter.

“What the devil is that doing there?” he asked his mom.

“What did you just say?” she answered.

“I said, what the devil is that doing there” and he looked at her and followed up with this.

“Devil is not a bad word. I was watching Harry Potter in french and they said that word. It is not a bad word. It is a french word. I am not in trouble for saying that word, just in case you didn’t know that it was not a bad word because you don’t know french.

Donny does not know french either, and why the devil he was watching the Harry Potter dvd in french we will never know.

Spring flowers and The Sock Monkey.

ann — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 02:38:34 +0000

I don’t know if you remember the story of Flat Stanley but he was sent everywhere and had pictures taken of him in all sorts of locations. Well, that is how it is going to be for this Sock Monkey.

I am going to take a photo of him doing different things and going different places and post them every once in a while. Why would I do that you ask? I don’t have a good answer except that I think he is cute and I love his new car commercial. I think I am a sock monkey groupie. That just sounds dirty doesn’t it? Well, get over it. I bought this one out in Lancaster at an Amish store so needless to say he is Amish by birth.

This post was supposed to be about the flowers in my garden and using my macro lens but that Sock Monkey stole the show. Here are the flowers. Enjoy!

Have some pansies!

This is the inside of a tulip. Gotta love that macro lens. Did you guess it was a tulip?

I think this shade of pink is so yummy. If I didn’t think it would look just like the inside of a Pepto Bismol bottle I would paint a room this color.

How shocking!

ann — Tue, 20 Apr 2010 21:52:52 +0000

Joey ran away the other night out at the Faux Farm. Bob took off chasing him down the road in bare feet. He was yelling back to me ” get the car, get the car”. So I get the car and speed up the road and man-o-man, that doggie can run. Just before the big road Joey ditches off to the right into someone’s yard. I stop the car, throw it into park, run out like a crazy person leaving the door open and the engine running and chase him down the yard where he is now running after some scared rabbits. Bob comes around the neighbor’s house from the other side and Joey heads into the woods after the bunnies. Bob, still shoeless, tells ME to go into the woods after him. But I am wearing my new wedge high heel sandals. And I just had a pedicure, and there might be snakes, or poison ivory or bugs or…. I am making a fashion statement and Joey is making a prison break. I run into the woods. I am tripping over logs, branches and barbed wire and I am close to spraining my ankle by falling off my 3 inch high heels when all of a sudden Joey stops. He needs to take a leak. Boys! It’s always the little things that trip you up isn’t it my little man? I run up really fast and I throw myself on top of him and the little fucker bites my hand.

I grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and hauled his little fury ass out there and tossed him over to Bob and said “he’s your dog now”. Well, as much as I was mad at Joey I didn’t really want to lose him to the woods ever again so I went on line and read about the e-collars for hunting dogs. They say they are pet safe and deliver either a vibration, tone or shock (depending upon the cooperation of your dog) through a collar which you operate via a remote control. Think of the power. Petsmart carries them and I am off to get one. Joey has no idea what he is in for. Basically, it makes the incentive to listen (or get shocked) greater than the incentive to do whatever else your dogs wants to do. Bob is hoping I don’t use it on him. Jill told me to “make sure you get the one that has the vibrator as well as the shocker. ” Yeah I be sure to get that one, honey. Then your mom can use it too!!!!!! And perhaps it can give me a new hairdo as well!!!

Tablecloth in Venice

ann — Mon, 12 Apr 2010 01:31:48 +0000

It may not be ironed and it may even possibly be a bedspread. But it is being used as a tablecloth. And that is all I care about and we all know how good that makes me feel.

You have to give them a round of applause for even thinking that a tablecloth was necessary. I think it looks great. It just goes to show you, even on boardwalk in Venice, California people know the value of a good tablecloth.

Flowers from the Santa Monica Commnity Gardens

ann — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 03:43:26 +0000

There are 96 garden plots in the community gardens. Some grow vegetables and some grow flowers.

The gates were locked so I had to take these photos from outside the chain link fence.

Even from this distance it doesn’t look like much, but with a keen eye and a good telephoto lens you can appreciate the beauty of this garden.

Ahhh, the color blue, my favorite.

Fabulous purple.

Poppies please.

Pretty in Pink.

Sweet Pea.

Beauty up close and hiding behind a fence. Stop and take a look and don’t rush by so fast.

Faux Farm Girl in LA

I’ll take this call.

ann — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 01:56:38 +0000

Little D needed my sister to arrange a play day with his buddy, Hassan Babbaganoush. I know, it sounds like something from the Middle Eastern deli. I think I had it with pita bread one time. So as my sister finishes dialing, little D takes the cell phone from her and says “let me do the talking” and walks away holding his one free hand up in the air as if to say ” I got it”. Little D is 5. He sits down on the other side of the room and says “Hello, is this Mr. Babbaganoush? I would like to talk with Hassan. This is his friend little D from school. I would like to invite him to my house for a play date. May I please speak to Hassan? Is Hassan home from school yet?” Apparently little D doesn’t get the answer he wants so he repeats all of the above, just a little bit louder and with a little more emphasis on the ” I would like to talk to Hassan. Is Hassan home? Can Hassan come to the phone?” Again, my sister is getting the sense that this is not going so well on the other end of the phone conversation. She attempts to take the phone but little D holds it away from her and says quietly to her, “I amon the phone, don’t bother me”. And once again, he repeats his name, the nature of his call and his request to speak to Hassan Babbaganoush. And once again, it doesn’t go very well. Finally, he is totally frustrated and he hands the phone to my sister and tells her ” you talk to him, he doesn’t get it”. With a name like Babboganoush my sister thinks that maybe he is talking to a relative of Hassan’s, who does not speak any English at all. She is all prepared to speak in slow, loud, single syllables as she takes the phone. We always think that people who don’t speak English are somewhat deaf and so we talk really loud and very slow to them. It is a family thing that we inherited from our parents who also do it to people with crutches and broken arms as if their hearing went when they broke their bones. Anyway, she takes the phone and she says very slowly “helloooooo” and then, in perfect English, she gets this response. “Hello, apparently little D is trying to call his friend Hassan but this is a wrong number. This is the Smith household and unfortunately, there is no one here named Hassan Babbogonoush. But little D sure sounds like he wants that play date, good luck with that”. Click. After all that, she had dialed the wrong number.

The moral (or did I mean moron) of this story is that it doesn’t really matter what kind of phone you have or what network you are on. If you don’t know how to dial the phone correctly, your are going to get a wrong number. Remember, there are only 10 numbers to choose from and you have to pick seven. It is not the lottery so don’t guess at the number and hope you will get lucky! The odds are against you winning Lotto and having Hassan answer the phone if you don’t pick the right numbers. Who’s name is going on the moron board now!

Faux Farm Girl,

Annie

This is Santa Monica

ann — Wed, 07 Apr 2010 04:47:36 +0000

The Pacific Ocean.

Surfing boys.

Beach Volley ball.

Third street Promenade street performers.

The Pier.

Having fun in Santa Monica.

Faux Farm Girl in LA

Cousins

ann — Fri, 02 Apr 2010 06:48:58 +0000

The is Jill with Bob’s cousin Peter’s 6 year old twins.

They live out here and visit us at the hotel each year when we are in town. They think Bob owns the hotel. So did Bob, until they booted us out of his favorite room. Since we are on a higher floor this year we have a much better view of the pier. The kids ran into our rooms and checked everything out, from the TV in the bathroom to the big bed in our room. Yale flopped down on my bed, looked out the window and saw the Ferris wheel on the pier. “Oh Uncle Bobby, you are so lucky, you have your very own Ferris wheel in your backyard” she said with the biggest smile. She never asked to go on the Ferris wheel but just sat there and watched it go round and round. And then she said “it is a happy thing to see that, isn’t it”. I never thought about it that way but ever since then I wake up each morning and look at the Ferris and think “How fun is that? A Ferris wheel in my backyard”. It’s a wonderful happy way to start the day.

The is my view each morning when I wake up.

And the view is just as great at night! What a wonderful way to fall asleep, watching the lights of the Ferris wheel go round and round.

Faux Farm Girl in LA

LA Day 3, Bikes and Botox

ann — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 04:28:05 +0000

Riding bikes again in Venice beach. Moved up to a hot pink 3 speed, with a basket. See if those kids ask me for free pot now. Rode past the Dr. Kush office, located in a store front on the boardwalk and had to stop ask about it. Here’s the dope on the kush. Which, by the way. I had no idea was a secret special word for pot until today. How 60’s am I? Not at all, I am from the 70’s which makes me way younger than those kids thought I was. Punks! Kid with placard touting Dr. Kush told me that you make an appointment with the doctor, he takes your vitals and you tell him your pains. He then determines that medicinal marijuana is the drug for you and gives you a prescription. You take said prescription to marijuana dispensary and get your drugs. Try not to pass the kids looking for free weed even though they have parked themselves outside the dispensary like bank robbers at the ATM. By the way, Dr Kush shares office space with Botox At the Beach which quite frankly was a lot more alluring to me than the pot which would only make me tired and hungry. The Botox on the other hand would return me to my youth, which is a lot more appealing to me these days than getting high. Pot is only good for a few hours, Botox lasts for 6 months!