Why did you start blogging? 

I started this blog in 2006.  I used it as a way to keep in touch with family and to share my scrapbook work.  Back in the day, scrapbooking was my passion and blogs were what all the cool scrappers were doing.  I used this blog to house my resume, to share my work and get my name out there more.  My work was published in magazines (paper and online) 17 times!  And I spent some time on 13 different design teams!  I even wrote a few articles for scrapbook magazines!  The article below, along with an album I created, was published in Handcrafted, Volume 8 by Stampington & Co.

What is this about chickens?

Oh, I'm so glad you asked!  In this house, we are animal lovin' fools. I must add, I was also born with a touch of farmer in me. So for years, having backyard chickens has crossed my mind. Every time I would bring it up, I was met with a resounding no. But this girl, she's a persistent one! I guess I just wore them down until the answer yes {actually, more like an I guess so}.

I spent months researching different breeds and narrowing down what ones I wanted. One day, I just took the plunge and ordered them. I just jumped in blindly with both feet. I kinda roll like that sometimes. I think that might be a quality of mine that drives my Mama nuts.

You can read here What I wish I had known before getting chickens.

Also, I'm a little obsessed with homesteading and being self-sufficient.  I make 99% of our food from scratch. I can, freeze, dehydrate and preserve. The beginning years of just spaghetti sauce have now turned into canning everything I can get my hands on! Including being obsessed with making my own stocks {chicken, beef and ham}.  I also bake bread weekly, and have been known to go through 150 lbs. of flour within a year (I buy it in bulk 50 lb. bags).  You can read my top favorite bread machine recipes here and here.

Where were you born?

I was born in a little town in New York.  Three days later I was adopted by a couple from Pennsylvania. They were the most amazing, loving parents any child could ever dream of. My childhood was truly magical.

My adoption was never hidden from me, I grew up knowing I had two sets of parents when other children only had one. Oh, how happy that made me. It made me different! I have a sneaking suspicion that may have been where the seed of 'loving to be different' was planted in my heart.

Tell us a funny story.

This story is one of my families favorites. Me, not so much. So, let me take y'all back a few years...

My grandma was a patient in the hospital and I was staying overnight with her. She had a nice little sweet-as-pie roommate who we will call "Edna". Edna was 91 years old and she was so sweet and soft-spoken. On this evening, Edna started getting a "new" IV antibiotic which made her start acting a little off. I should have thought something was up when Edna asked me if the yellow things on the floor were off the trees but...I let it go {mistake #1} I mean, if your 91 and you want to say a few CRAZY things I think you are entitled to.

Grandma fell asleep around 10, hallelujah. I was sitting in the chair by the bed reading a magazine. Edna woke up and started crying so I scurried over to help her. I wanted to help her and keep her from waking Grandma back up. She didn't know where she was or why she was there, which broke my heart. She was so super scared and asked for a drink of water. I walked around the bottom of the bed and poured her some water {mistake #2} When I went to hand it to her she screamed "get out of my house" and punched me in the face. Y'all, she punched me in the face.  Let that little gem sink in for a minute.

During the day, Edna had serious difficulty walking. She certainly couldn't walk on her own and had to use a walker. After she punched me in the face, she didn't need her walker at all.  She chased me like she was a 20 year old spring chicken.

She chased me while yelling for the police, saying I was stealing her jewelry and money. Some where along the way she picked up her bed pan and hit me in the head with it. Repeatedly. It was empty, thank the Lord!  I kept thinking "a nurse is going to come running in and rescue me any time now". Nope, said nurse never came. I'm convinced they knew it was happening, but it was so entertaining they just hated to break it up.

She chased me out into the hallway and a little ways down the hall. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the nurses came and got Edna off of me.  She kept telling them about the woman in her house stealing her jewelry and money. 

I stood in the hall and cried my eyes out. I'm sure the nurses laughed like crazy about that one. I can assure you I was not laughing.

My clothes were soaked. We're going to say from the water she threw on me and not the other option, because I know that bedpan was empty. Just go with it and humor me. I had to go call my husband to bring me clothes. So I go outside and call.

me: Joe {sobbing uncontrollably}
him: What's wrong? Is Grandma okay?
me: Her roommate just hit me {more sobbing}
him: What? What roommate? Edna?
me: Yes, she thought I was stealing her jewelry or something. She hit me in the head with her bedpan. And punched me in the face.
him: Silence. And quiet laughter.

Then I thought I'd call my Mama. Because you know if you want sympathy, you call your Mom! Except that call went just about the same way. And it ended with her saying "You know an elderly woman just kicked your butt".

Joe brought me clothes and Edna, bless her heart, was moved to a different room that was private. And I settled into my chair-bed for the night and slept with one eye open.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be!?

If I had to choose where I would live, it would still be my little Small Town, USA. I adore this town...it's my heart, it's where I'm rooted, it's where I grew up, it's where I've made tons of memories and now it's where I make memories with my family. It may take us forever to get to a store, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I can walk next door to my Mama's and across the road to my Aunt's. I can let my chickens run through the yard, which they love (except when my naughty hens are roosting on my Mama's back porch railing). I can sit on my porch and watch Amish buggies drive past. Every person in town knows everyone, and every person from towns around knows my sweet Dad. There isn't a single other place I would rather live!