She's a known squirrel killer

The problem is the dog isn't a big fan of frolicking creatures that nature brings us to brighten our days. With the temperature cooling to the degree of "let's open the windows" Fahrenheit, we let the breeze and the crickets lull us to sleep. And in the morning we hear the birds chirping bringing us out of our slumber. It really is a sunshine and lollipops kind of atmosphere and adds a peaceful calm to the household.
But when a couple of geese decide to park themselves across the street from the house and squawk at irregular intervals, mayhem ensues. Since the dog is a known squirrel killer, she has an overwhelming sense of power when it comes to her turf. Her turf is basically the street we live on, if anyone dares walk their dog past our house she will let them know in no uncertain terms that they are intruding. She also has a white hot hate for skateboarders.

Wild animals really piss her off. They wander the neighborhood without boundries, she's jealous. So my morning and early afternoon consisted of squawks and barks, barks and squawks. The geese wouldn't leave until they were good and ready and now the dog is spent, sleeping it off on my bed, barely able to keep her eyes open. The know squirrel killer missed her mid-morning nap.

I promise to post more as soon as I get the FaceBook monkey off my back.

Isn't it funny how an innocent little "invite" on FaceBook can lead to a total, life consuming obsession? What the hell do I need a virtual farm for? But as I type I have another window open on my computer so I can keep an eye on my crops. FaceBook will be the death of me.

The husband and I actually saw farm stuff up close a couple weeks ago, we went to a county fair. It was a work related thing for him and he dragged his city girl wife along. At this fair, while walking amongst the farm people, it's where we decided our children are way too spoiled. Farm kids lead a entirely different life than spoiled city kids. We weren't sure exactly what these farm kids were doing but their days are spent a lot different than ours. We wandered into a barn and sat on some bleachers, because the guy on the speaker said they were starting in 5 minutes.
"Starting what?"

"I don't know."
"Well, we better sit down."
There were several different farm animals at different stations with a person in charge of an animal and these kids kept going to each station with a score card they gave to the person. The husband and I sat perplexed, noticeably perplexed.
"Alright, I'll take a picture."

After about three, 5 minute sessions, because that's all the time they were allotted for whatever they were doing, I leaned over to the husband and said, "This is boring the living snot out of me."
He was up off the bleachers before I finished the sentence. This is when we stumbled into a field of tractors. Which was even more boring because they didn't even move. But the husband reminisced about the summers he spent on his aunt and uncles farm and showed me the kind of tractor he use to drive.
"You drove a tractor just like that?"
"Yep."
"Before you had your drivers license?"