Around Town with Carol on Whitebriar Farm: Book 2

By Carole Lokan-Moore

Over 300 stories of children and critters here on Whitebriar Farms could not be contained in one book, but is a "book set". There is no rhyme or reason to the "numbering", so don't think I missed anything, but even with mismatched numbers on chapters, realize they are in chronical order, as the experience came along. God has blessed me many times with a wonderful family and the ability to show people thru words, the wonderful life that can be had on a farm with animals and children.

- Carole Lokan Moore, aka, The Farmer's Daughter

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664109995

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Copyright © 2021 by Carole Lokan-Moore. 826050

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced

or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic

or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by

any information storage and retrieval system, without

permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and

incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination

or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual

persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely

coincidental.

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021920513

Rev. date: 11/23/2021

Contents

An Egg is laid

So who takes a chicken to an Antique Car Show?

When you say Good bye to animals you’ve loved.

What’s missing when I don’t have a church to go to.

The Best Farm Animal Story Ever

The disastermous blue berry crumb cake episode

The Lion Dog meets the Donkey

The Lion Dog meets the Donkey

Episode 3 of Lion Dog and Donkey

"Christian Warrior arrives at Whitebriar

Day to day living 2020 during the Coronna Virus lock down

Rustlers on the ranch in 2020

A Man Named Sue or "A Rooster named Violet

The Corona Substitute Speaks pantry

A Lass and a Laddy, Spring 1918

The Palm Sunday Donkey

Black Velvet comes to Whitebriar

Would you be a St Dismas, if you lived during Jesus time

Left Behind

Good Things Come, even from the Corona Virus.

Thinking about Bridges

So you always wanted to own a bed and breakfast

A Pygmy, a pot bellied pig, and a Piglette...

where did I get so many pigs.

Magical Pets Who Defy Logic

The Leprechaun Hunt that never was

Why did your parents choose your name?

Scotland’s Highlands and Islands...a trip to remember... an amulette of purple

Setrting up for a tea party

The Story of Onions

Mini’s nest

Ducklings have arrived

Waiting for the chicks to hatch

Keeping Honey Occupied

A light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe?

The Cooper Street Rodeo

Cushman Colonial Creationsm, Bennington Vermont 80 year Family owned

Had a moment to check in... Worried about making order out of Choas" Pray for peace...

The Covid Summer of poultry babies

A Covid Fourth of July, 2020

Birthdays come but once a year.....

The Covid Season of Abundance 2020

The Street Dog comes to the farm at Whitebriar

It won’t fit in the coffin

The Secret Gardens at Whitebriar Farms

I should have been an under takers wife

I should have been an under takers wife

Honey’s Hose Antics at Whitebriar

J. Chein and Company and our Grand Father, Richard William Lokan.

It’s Not easy to become a poultry farmer in New Jersey

Christmas’ age creeps in but memories are awakened....

The Covid Christmas at Whitebriar

The Gigantic People sugar sdatcookies....2020

Miss Scarlotte & the Black Bird Gang or Mini goes into retirement. 2020

Just what do you do with an Old Pig??? Feed it, water it, and love it....nuf said

The day after the da after New Years....2021... Hope your new year is better than last year....

Do twins run in our family????

The legacy of having Goats St PattyDayPatty Day kids & The Ephiphany kids. 2020-21

The Maple bowls at Whitebriar

What to do with all your prized collections? Coloring books and Crayons

Honey’s second Year at Whitebriar Farms

Profits of being a farmers (for Book 1)

The St Patty’s Day Herd replaced by The Ephiphany kids (This is for the first book)

Easter Egg Hunt at Whitebriar

The Horn

The Spring trim

The Scars Covid has left on our families

The Best Egg Hunt of the year

Easter Bunny comes to town

The Roughness of spring

Chicken Soup on Whitebriar Farms

Remembering Easters of the past

The French Poodle at the Birthday table

The Calendar

The Painter on the Bicycle

"Warrior’s Song

The Wool Witch is Born

How did I ever, get so tied up with electronics

The Blind Bag lady of Riverside

Do all churches pay their choir directors? Ic)

Orange, fingerlike, vegetable loved by Bunnies....the carrot

Food that goes rotten in the night incomplete

Mini’s Pumpkin heads...a story for all seasons

The Romance of the Camden Amboy

Joyce Kilmer’s Trees have nothing on mine

A Soldier’s Unrest.. Is Memorial Day a Joke?

Jumpetta and the band of leghorns"

You are what you eat

Keeping memories around you, keeps you happy.

The Best Fourth of July Ever

Jaimie, The Professional Rabbit

Gallery

An Egg is laid

Spring of 2019 brought at warm Easter, and three days, there after, arrived two baby chicks and a duckling. A grand moter had bought them for her five year old grand son, but found them to be Too stinkey. Owning a Home for Wayward Farm animals for the last five decades or more, the word was out, If you have unwanted animals take them to Whitebriar’s farm, and Mrs. Moore will love them forever....

One chick seemed to be growing faster than the other so we named her Maxi, and the smaller one Mini. The Duckling grew quickly and we named him, The Lone Duckling as a take off of the old Tv cow boy show, The lone Ranger. Eventually L.D., his nick name, grew enough to be placed with the other 7 white Pekin ducklings who roamed the back yard.

Maxi, the bigger chick, continued her weight gain, and leg stretch, and was eventually put into the Gorilla Cage, with the other spring chickens. No we never h ad gorilla’s but for as long as it took for Bill to build the cage, I asked: What are you building A Gorilla Cage and the name stuck. Either way Maxi was assimilated into the Barred Rock (black and white speckled hens) and Buff Orfington’s (big yellow birds) and became part of their flock.

But the smaller hen, Mini, never seemed to grow, so she continued in Henry’s wire pen. Oh, did I forget to mention, Henry is a 9 year old Guinea Pig, who welcome the company as he lived in the back room of the Organic Café. Henry’s two tone yellow and white fur covered an abundant body, due to his proximity to the kitchen at the café. His voice could be heard each time you walked past..and of course, he always was given plenty to eat.

Henry didn’t mind sharing with the duckling, and two chicks, but as body weight became more, the welcome relief was had when Maxi and LD were put in the bigger pens next door. Only Mini and Henry were in the plastic bottom tray, and wire top rack of this rodent pen. Henry loved the attrition of chicken pellets to his vegetarian diet, and a report was set up between this Poultry and Rodent, to one that is unknown to me, even with 50 years of animal care.

When Mini was lifted from the pen and put in the travel bag, Henry’s voice was heard loud and clear....where’s she going....or so I surmise since I don’t speak Guinea Pig very well. And vice versus...when Henry would be lifted out to sit on the lap of a visiting child, Mini’s voice would be heard in alarm. How could it be that two opposite species do actually communicate. If we took this as a theory, there might be hope for the peoples of this world to all get along...and not need a tower of bable...who knows.

About Mid July, sounds were being herd from Mini, in such that might be comprehended as the beginning of a rooster crow. Had we miss sexed Mini, would she have to have a name change to Manny, because she/he was a rooster? Our ears listened each time a practice call was made from the pen, and it was by mid August, that the sex of this poultry was at question.

But then in the third week of August, the summer had finally begun to drop the temperature from 90 to 70, there was a sound from the pen that was heard by only Melanie, our Café Manager/cook. It was not a rooster call at all, but the refined voice of a mother hen who had just laid her first egg. As I came in the door Melanie had a tiny little egg in her hand. Mini’s laid her first egg. The smiles on our face and the glint in our voice could be heard by ne and all. Apparently, Dominic, our neighbor Student, had come by to visit with Henry, as he often did, and said, Did you see, Mini laid an eggs.

So there is no longer a question as to the Mr. or Mrs. Chicken question here in this pen. The facts (the egg) are in. Mini is a hen. Her very small egg will be added to the other organic eggs in the box, and perhaps that dozen will be bought by a family who has a child. I’ve seen it happen before...kids who don’t like eggs, will warm up to them if it’s a special miniature egg, grown just for children.

The moral of this story is to never give up being who you are. Don’t let other’s name you or align you for something you are not. Just keep on doing the best you can with the situation you h ave at hand, and move forward in a positive way, and you too, may be able to reach the golden Egg and be proud of your efforts, every day.

So who takes a chicken to an

Antique Car Show?

In the 75 year since my husband’s birth, it seemed that age was taking it’s tole as it does on all of us eventually. After his stroke, we decided to cell the Caprice sitting in the garage for some two or three decades. We needed the money to pay the bill’s, but some how, the money was found between hospital and rehab, and the utilities were paid, the car insurance covered, and there was no need to sell the 73 Caprice.

It had been offered for sale on line for a good 9 months, getting bids up to $13,500, sight un seen, left to sit with the engine never turned over....but no one crossed my palm with a bunch of bills, and thus, the car sat in the garage. One day, Domenic, our neighbor teen, helped and blew up the Michelin tires, which amazingly still held air. A vice President of Michelin NA wanted them in trade for a new pair, but when he retired the next guy had other priorities.

We looked on the original build sheet, and ordered the same tired from Tire Rack, and began the process of getting the Car on the road. A Fuel pump, one repaired fuel line, a new set of front brakes, oil change, points plugs, and she was ready. A trip to motor vehicle set her up with QQ antique tags, and she was on the road again. Because of this registration her full insurance coverage went from $500 year for partial coverage, to $200 per year for full $15,000 coverage, for this limited edition of 7,000, Caprice Convertibles that were made in 1973.

What a great present to give Bill for his birthday, and thus on that day, three big blue helium balloons were tied to the wiper, and the presentation was made. Rides to the River and Back were given to all the guests, in this Caribbean Blue vehicle with it’s white rag top, covered by the boot, and the white interior shown like new.

Bill’s dream was to show his car to the public, and so we registered at the Annual Riverside Auto Show., August 17, just one month to the day of Bill’s 75th birthday pool party at Whitebriar. Bill would be content to sit, and stare at his car and talk to people about being the original owner, the repairs, the registration, etc. but I am not a sit still person. My sister in law Bonnie, always says, You just have too much energy. I gave up sugar decades ago, so it couldn’t be that.

So I packed the Parrot carrying case, up and put the Mini Chicken in to it. If I had to be there 8 or 10 hours, I could at least, publicize our animal tours for the whole family, and let this little yellow chicken with a few black tail feathers, help me get attention. I am know for being a person who always wants to be in front of the hedge, where I have two daughters, and a husband, who are happy behind the hedge, so people never know what to expect from me.

I wondered how Mini, who had been raised by hand, here with the Guinea pig, inside a small rodent cage inside my café. Sure I held her once a day when I changed her pen, but how would she do for a full day....it’s always a challenge when it comes to animals...you just never know if it’s a good day for them or not. Mini rode in her parrot travel cage in the back of the convertible, with her face turned toward the mesh window. I’m sure she had no clue as to what was happening...Heck oh heck...I didn’t know, so how could a little pea brain, of a chicken know.

We pulled into our spot next to our Insurance man, who was using us as his advertisement This Classic Caprice is insured by Farmer’s Insurance, A classic insurance company, or some such words were printed and framed for us to put on the dash of the Caprice. Two folsing chairs, an umbrella stand, and umbrella, were pulled from the trunk along with a small table on which to display the document book. The day was set, Bill was in his chair with a cold drink on this 100’ degree day, and Mini and I were ready for the public.

There wasn’t much fan fair, I just held her in my lap, and waited for the passing children to say: Hey look, that lady has a chicken....and that was our clue. I’d turn and extend Mini to the children and ask if they wished to see how soft she was, and of course every kid wanted to hold her as well. Mini was delighted, or at least I think she was cause she didn’t act in a negative way, so I can only presume, she was content.

As the children petted the soft yellow feathers of the Mini chicken, I handed a green business card to their parents. We do a wonderful animal tour $25 for the whole family for a one hour hand’s on tour....we’re just down the train stop 4 miles at the Beverly Edgewater Park Station. at the Green Café, .. I continued when I could. The Green Card was taken greatfully, and I answered their questions : Oh, it’s also a Bed and Breakfast, or I didn’t know we had a tea room so close to home...and thus, the publicity end of my day had begun.

Mini was content to sit on my lap, and only once, did you leave me a message of her breakfast, which I brushed off with a napkin. In her travel case, I had a bowl for her water, so periodically, I filled it and held it in front of her beak, and believe it or not, she would dip in and streth her head up as the water ran down in her throad. I guess she felt enough at home with me that she could take a drink would fealing threatened, and so she did.

Hundreds of kids petted the yellow feathers, and promised to comeand see the rest of our animal family here at Whitebriar. It got to a point that mini would sit on my closed hand as I had my fingers wrapped around her legs for safety. The ribbons I put around her neck as a leash, had long fallen off, and the bows around her ankles, to be cutzie had since dropped to the ground. She was a chicken, and that was enough to attract attention.

At the end of the show, we brought her home to henry’s cage,and gave her another big bow of water, and some chicken pellets. Henry ate with her, and I’m sure the two had a wonderful evening conversation, once we were no longer in sight. But the most marvelous thing was, the very next day, Mini was particularly vocal, as are many hens when they reach child bearing age. And it was then that we found the real treasure of the car show....Mini had laid her very first egg.

So when you think the day is goiong to be ho hum, and perhaps you are planning to make entertainment for yourself, by taking a chicken to a car show, be prepared to be out done, as the chicken has the last word....and the Yolks on you.

When you say Good bye to

animals you’ve loved.

It’s hard enough in farm life, when you have hatched, fed, watered, and cherished your farm animals who become pets, but when they are lost to removal, it’s even more tramautic. After a decade or more of having our Vet Tech, she is moving on to, Literally -- Greener pastures and we’ll be saying Goodbye to her menagerie of rescued farm animals.

It was great for a very long time, to have an animal person, just a few streets away from our farm, and as we get older, we are depending on her and Rob for more and more, which they are not, now, able to give. So the parting of ways, will be tramatic for all humans and animals concerned, but it is a necessary transition.

The biggest loss for us, will be the cow...really a steer, whose neutered mass, has grown in our hearts and in our field, to hundreds of pounds. Purchased as a partnership with her sister, the cow was not harvested in the past two years because there was no room in the freezer. But now it’s time to buy a new chest freezer and enjoy the Steak, Roast Beef, and chops.

The sadness comes when you have heard the sound of the cow, when ever he saw the truck, which every day without fail would bring the old bread, vegetables, fruits, etc. from the food pantries, as snacks for the herd. The blast is so distinct, that you couldn’t miss it, or get confused between it, and the Donkey’s heehaw.

Named: Leonard because upon purchase, she said: He looks like a Leonard, and thus Mr. Leonard Brown, of How now brown cow fame came to reside in our field. We provided most of his nourishment aside from round hay bales, and we filled the water trough every day with fresh cool water. Animals this large use $90 per month of water, less some for evaporation. But the tubs were always filled, and if they were not, the sound of hard hooves clanging on the metal trough would be heard...I want a drink they would say, in their own way.

Mr. Brown has an appointment at the Butcher’s, a traumatic event for the vet tech and us, because he has been such a character for so long in the field. In his abundance, he would throw himself around like a calf...not realizing how much he rally weighed if in deed, he fell on you or, learned up against you in a hard fashion. Cows are not known to be aggressive, as long as the Testestrone glands were removed at an early age. Mr. Brown will be missed.

The pair of donkeys in the field, who also invibed in the luscious of every day fresh bread, rolls, bagels, lettuce, vegetables and fruit, won’t find such a bounty in most other places. It’s a full time job driving to the pantry loading a truck full of boxes of food, then driving back to the farm, and spending another two hours, tossing the treats over the fence. The crunching, and biting of 200 lbs of carrots one day, and 7 boxes of lettuce the next day, make for a plentiful herd in the field. The Spotted jack, and the beautiful Jenny known as PETA, will be missed as well.

Star, the apple of our Vet tech’s eye, has been pastured elsewhere, as Mr. Browns amorous behavior was stressing her out, but her lovely Palamino son, Little Dickie lingered on in the field and had a wonderful time, being friends with the gigantic Pennsylvania Dutch Draft Horse, known as Waffles....he’s the same color as freshly baked breakfast treat. Dickie is smaller than expected and we’re hoping for a growth spurt in his third year coming up.

LaRue, is the famous Barrel Racing Winner, who with her white socks and blazed face, gave a terrific showing in the season of 2019 winning many ribbons up and down the east coast of this country. LaRue never showed any animosity to any of the smaller animals, and was a true lady in all aspects. Her kind temperament will be one we will wish we had again.

It worked for a long time, but as the field became over grazed, even with an abundance of Pantry food and Round Bales, it was obvious that something had to change. The trailers and farm vehicles were left un trimmed, and became a weedy mess. The debri from the round bales which were rolled into the field, were left strewn about, and needed to be taken to the dump. The cut in fence, was left with jagged poles which needed caps. The unsightly addtin of double gates to accommodate the barn, were tied together with bailing twine, and threatened to explode if one of the big guys leaned on the new exit.

But time goes on, and all the farm animals will be re homed as the Vet Tech sees fit. A new pasture with much more grass, will be rented, and the herd in whole or in part, will be giving pleasure to some other neighbors of some other farm, in some other area of Burlington or Ocean counties.

It’s a window in the lives of those who were involved, and it worked for a long, long time, but not any longer. Good bye to those fine farm friends, and the noises we became so familiar with over the last decade or more. Good luck LaRue, Waffles, Jenny, etc. Thanks for the Memories Leonard, and we shall still serve the special Brown Cow, Ice cream soda (Pennsylvania Dutch Birch Beer and Ice Cream) and remember all the good times we had with "Mr. Leonard Brown, the Brown cow for whom our Organic Green Cafe’s favorite drink, was named.

What’s missing when I don’t

have a church to go to.

My husband said yesterday, I was a vagabond, choosing on the day which of three churches I would attend on that particular church. When I was still driving, before the eyes got bad, I would attend the 8am service at the Catholic church...used to be called St. Joseph’s but now is called the Church of the Good Shepherd.

When attending a Catholic funeral years ago, I noticed the tombstone that St. Joseph’s had at the edge of their front steps, and it touched my heard. It was just like a grave marker that would have been at a cemetery, but there was no body under this stone. The words echoed, loud and clear, in honor of those who were denied life. (referencing Abortion).

I knew that the Catholic church was the direct descendant of Jesus and his Paul on whose life, God built his church. So there never was any conflict about the Catholic beliefs and mine. Some where along the way, I got turned off by the man made rules, but as long as I didn’t get involved in a political discussion, I just went to the early 8 am service, because I wanted to be part and parcel of the original church.

Then one day, Joanne came to me and said: Since you are not Confirmed a Catholic, Father Jerald would appreciate your not taking the communion, but getting the blessing in stead. Well, I listen to EWTV (the Catholic tv station) and I hear the Pope’s daily message at 5am in the morning, and believe I heard him say, Everyone is welcome at his table...but I guess not with Father Gerald. So, I went up with the communion line, and put my hands across my chest, and bowed my head for some one to lay a symbolic cross upon my forehead for a blessing, but the celebrant assistant, didn’t know what to do. Dah...haven’t been back...

But after the Catholic service, I’d jump in my Jeep, and head two blocks down to my family church, St. Stephen’s Beverly’s Episcopal church in time for the 9am service. Well this worked out for many years, until summers came and all the churches changed their timing...Now I have to decide, which one I’m intending to celebrate with...catholic or Episcopal...and I didn’t tell you yet about the Moravians.

Seems my three great grand father and mother, were Devout Germans of the Moravian Faith, and founded the Palmyra Moravian church, and his son, founded the Riverside church. So now the brain waves are flowing, and my heart is wringing...Am I a Christian who is a Catholic, an Episcopalian, or a Moravian by blood line? So for about 6 years, Bill drove me 20 minutes down the highway to the Palmyra church. All those years of my Nanny Pray, saying...You have family buried in that church cemetery plot, paid off, when I found the Hintermeier plot with 7 graves. Aunt Cassie, my grand mother’s sister, and her infant child Lydia, after my Grand mother were the one’s I personally had known. The older generation, his wife, his son and his wife, and an unnamed infant, were relatives but I never knew them. The the Hintermeier’s founding two churches just 8 miles away from me, it appeared that I should get involved at this location.

I worked the summer Bible school at Riverside two summers, and then went to work with the Palmyra Moravian for the next few summers. As my eyes faded, and the steps to the basement where the classes were held, and my inability to help the children glue things on the craft section, I opted out, and stayed in the church with the music director, and helped keep the peace in the pews, as a hundred unaffiliated children from the neighborhood, came together, for free, giving their parents a day off during the summer break from school. Eventually I sent my letter of resignation stating my eyes were worse.

The Moravians had a annual meeting, which all churches usually have, and a luncheon was given with it. Of course, Bill’s general rule when it comes to churches is Feed me and I will come. But as the meeting progressed, and Bill and I made suggestions, the words of Non members (only attendees for the last 5 years putting our $200 check each month) were not appreciated. I’m a lot thicker skinned" than Bill, so he refused to drive me down, and since I have given up driving some 3 years ago, I just pulled in my flanks, and went to the local church where I could walk.

For a Brief time, we attended Saturday night services in the chapel at the Episcopal church, run by Ron Paice. He encouraged each in attendant to read part of the Evening Prayer service. Even Bill read when he was asked by Ron, and of course, I just listened, and was pleased to hear the word of God come out of Bill’s mouth. But soon after, Bill got his nose out of joint because the Lord’s prayer was said twice, once in English once in Spanish...Bill didn’t like the Spanish. So he used that as an excuse not to attend. Without a ride, I couldn’t either.

Feeling left out now that I had No Moravian churh, or Catholic church, my eyes failing, I decided I had better re align my relationships of 32 years perfect attendance at St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church in Ebeverly. Unfortunately, Pastor Anne Wrede, retired in February, and a variety of pastors were in and out weekly, as they were available...but no body permanent. The Two St.Stephen’s churches, the mother church in Beverly, and it’s Mission church, in Riverside, had joined as the "United Churches of St. Stephen’s some half decade ago, at the contratulation of the bishop...for shared services. We now share a secretary with two other churches, which makes the week covered by staff, even if they are in three different locations...they have contact numbers to handle any emergency.

So the choices of going to a church, any church, any where, is endless. I’ve spent Lenten services at the Beverly Methodist, Lutheran, Baptists, Roman, and even Jewish, as the shared Lenten suppers and services each year in lent, so I have many choices. This summer I helped, Pastor Heidi at Beverly Methodist open a Blessed Treasurers< thrift store by bring several truck loads of stuff from our friend’s home, after his death. His only heir was in Afghanastan, and the realtors would not touch the house, until the personal things were gone...

So I started walking down to the local Beverly episcopal church. First week I left half hour early, but only got 3/4 way, to the railroad track, when Lukie (a dog) and his owner, Dennis, stopped and asked if I needed a ride. My answer was: Depends on what time it is.....needless to say it was nearly time for the service, and I still had several blocks to walk, so I got a ride to church. Next week Dennis picked me up and brought me again, and he let the dog at home, and dressed to be my companion for the morning service. He had said: I always wondered what type of service was held there. So he got the chance and I got the ride.

But I realize that I am married to a man who is a man, and is two year’s older than me, and statistics show, his demise scheduled before mine. If I want to be affiliated with a church, I must participate now and become active. At St. Stephen’s Annual Meeting, I refused to go, because I knew I had issues to bring up, and being nearly blind, I should Keep my mouth shut. I knew I wanted to be a board member, Vestry, but also knew I couldn’t rad or be 100%, so I opted to not attend. I’m sure my fellow congregation members, thought it odd, my not attending the Annual Meeting.

Some times, when you are given a gift from God, and you try to use it, you come off looking like a know it all. But if you have God in your back pocket, how can you go wrong? Sic months went by and another two eye surgeries, which brightened my view...still can’t read, thread a needle, or drive...but I’ve got more light than beore, I feel more confident, and don’t need as much help crossing a street, going up a curb, or entering a building, and perhaps, I can be of some help to the church. Maybe this is the job God has given me, but I had to travel to those other churches before I could understand his purpose for the rest of my life.

In the spring of 2019, when the Bishop came for his annual visit from the Diacess of Trenton’s Episcopal church, his e mail was in the bulletin, asking for ideas, as to how to grow the churches. I sat down to the computer and gave him an idea, to rent rooms in our large Tudor Style Parish House which had laid empty for a decade or more. A Men’s boarding house, which would be allowed un the NJ Air B N B law" which just went into effect. The e mail was sent, but no action, or even communication came back from the diocess, so I guess Bishop Chip, didn’t like the idea.

I spoke lightly at coffee hour, and other gatherings about it, but knew that the Vestry would have to make the move, if they wanted the property to produce an income that could pay for the maintenance, up keep and insurance on the Parish house. I wasn’t ready to take on the Vestry, after being a hap hazard attendee for the last few years....

Another idea, that I suggested at that notorious Moravian Annual Meeting was to set up a list of parish and family members, who were contractors, plumbers, electricians, babysitters, dog walkers...I know they are all expensive, but I’d certainly rather give it to a church member, who could then put a little more’ in the collection plate, to keep the church health. I putched it at the Coffee hour and some one said, You should take that to the Vestry"....So this Thursday is the Vestry meeting, and I’d like to attend...unless I chicken out before that. I can’t pitch two ideas in the same meeting or they will think I am flying on some funny weed. Nope don’t smoke, Don’t dope...

So here we are at the end of September, with the first ECW meeting of the season on Wednesday, and I’m planning to attend. Perhaps I can use these women to soften up the vestry members, (Don’t know who they are..might be some at the ECW meeting). Maybe I can get some feed back from other women, who might have ideas toward the same. Who knows?

Since all our property is owned by the Diacess, it would mean Chip’s approval, if the vestry did want to go ahead with either idea. The City of Beverly would have to be involved to get permission for a BNB type facility. And the lawyers would need to do a opinion as to if it would change the status of the Non profit status of the church or not. Whew...sounds like a lot of work to get a Parish House turned into a productive income.

As with anything.....Nothing vendured, nothing gained..but todays lesson, indicated that we are all given talents, and that to flaunt them and leave them Unaddressed is not going to make God Happy. To use them in a productive positive way to better people’s life, is another story, hopefully one I will write in the near future.

So the question is, Why do I need a church. I think my Monday’s are the best day of the week, because on Sunday, I asked for God’s forgivenss (and got it) for all the stupid little things I did and what I didn’t do during the past week...with the permission of God himself...to try harder this week, and improve...and follow the example His son set for us. When I go to church, I feel better. I can truly find the peace that passes all understanding. Thank you God. I’ll do better.

The Best Farm Animal Story Ever

I once wrote a Halloween story, about the Best Halloween Costume Ever, where a girl gets stuck in her dog outfit, that is so realistic, her elderly neighbor thinks she is a dog, and hooks her up to the chain at the kennel. But Now, I think This is a good second, and it too happens around the autumn of the year, just before Halloween 2019.

In a Lacking business here at the Organic Green Café, we were getting discouraged because it seems people still, after all these years, don’t understand the concept of Organic....when I explain it, I relate it to eating Grand mother’s cooking..no cryovac plastic bags with half cooked meals that you re heat....Organic is peeling the potatoes you dug from your garden, snapping the beans you picked out of the yard, and slicing a tomato that you grew on the vine.

Eleven years, and with no money for advertising, we had to think outside the box...Perhaps, I thought if I can’t get the healthy cooking aspect across to them, I still have the farm and the animal tours. Maybe I can approach Johnson’s farm in Medford’s idea of brining in the people to see the critters and stop by the café on the way in.

But how do I get the message out to the public. Being in an Old Fleet Bank Building, dark brown brick, seated far back from the corner, almost difficult to spot, without the clock & weather sign which use to prevail on the corner of Green at Cooper Streets, Edgewater Park, N.J. The Scalloped ropes of twinkle lights from the front door to the side walk had not generated much interest over11 years, so drastic measures had to be made.

I wrote up a flyer which would be 1/4 page, and I’d go to print it at Staples.....but then I thought, right here in town we have Mpac Printing, why not keep the money in the neighborhood and keep all the small business folks in the black. James was very accommodating, and agreed to a discounted price when I offered to put his advertisement on the back. A color photo of farm animals was chosen and the 8 1/2 x 11" paper was slashed in 4, making quite a nice little flyer advertising the Farm Animal Tours, $35 per family (we don’t count so bring the neighbors) with a $5 discount coupon. James did a great job creating the art work.

Now, How do I get this wonderful 1/4 page into the hands of families who would come take a tour, walk thru the quaint café, buy some cookies, a piece of apple pie, or cake? It was mid October, and the brain was running out of ideas to distribute the flyers. My pm Manager, wasn’t interested in walking the streets and sticking on in the door frame of each house in the neighbor hood, like our previous manager who was an exercise garru did.

In an effort to be seen more in the community, we decided to get active in the business community of neighboring townships. Being the long time secretary (no body else wanted it) for the Beverly Edgewater Park Business Association, nick named BEBA, under President John Schoen, Now deceased, I put out my feelers and found an active Delran Business group. The die was cast, all my wonderful ideas to promote small business were received with open arms, and I was invited to participate in some of their events, even though I don’t work or live in their community, I’m only 5 minutes down the road.

My insurance man, Joe, who works for Farmers out of the Delanco office, resides in Delran, so there was a connection. The board decided to participate in Delran Harvest Festival at the township park right next to the Delran High school. It was a Trunk or Treat, or maybe I said it wrong but you lined up your vehicle with the trunk open, in our case, it was a F 150 truck with the tail gate down. Bill threw three bales of hay in the back of the truck, bought a few colorful table cloths at the Dollar store, and gathered the yellow mums from next to my gate, and we were off to the park.

Only about 5 cars were there when we arrived at 5, but within 45 min, another 30 arrived. I guess folks had to get home from work, cause it was a week day. They jumped out of their cars, popped up their trunks, and began to decorate....yep, decorate their trunks. There were monster teeth attached to the top and bottom of the trunk which made the interior look like a big mouth......

Spider webbing was stretched from bumper to bumper, shafts of corn stalks were tied to each side of the bumper, fresh pumpkins sat on the ground, and the imagination of thinking outside the box, but iin this case, Outside the trunk, was in full swing. There were glo sticks in some, but most hooked something up to their battery and had twinkle lights, just like it was inside some one’s house. Being our first experience with this type of substitute for going thru the neighborhood to strange houses and wondering if the candy was safe, the town implemented this event in lieu of walking around town. Some towns, actually, put a curfew, to keep the mischief down.

Numbers were put on shoulder banners, for those who wished to be considered for prizes, and trunks were also judged, if you registered ahead of time. Then the line up for the parade, from small kids in the first group to families in the last group...everyone paraded around the bevy of open trunks...both cars and trucks...and we clapped and cheered when the whole family of bees in their yellow stripped clothing came past. I think they won the family prize.

We had pulled out the bales of hay, making a semi circle, closed the tail gate and had it be the back drop when it was covered with the Dollar Store orange table cloth which matched the same on each bale of hay. A little theatre was set up right there behind our truck, startled between two other cars with their tail gates open wide for distributing candies o the kids. Of course we had candies but because we are teachers, they also go a pencil.

In each bag of candy we folded up one of our $5 off coupon for the Farmily Farm Animal Tour. But these teachers were not just going to give out goodies.....I needed to capture the attention of the kids, so I said, Sit down and make your self small, so you don’t scare Minnie. Immediately, the oohed and ahed at look, she’s a chicken"...and the story began.

Minnie & her big sister came with a duckling. It was a lady who grew up in Europe and said, it was her tradition to put a baby animal in each Easter basket, and thus her 5 year old grand son was thrilled...But come 3 days later, Grand mom said, I don’t remember them being so stinkey, and she gave them to our Moore’s home for wayward farm animals.

Within a month the larger chick and the duckling, had grown large enough to be put into our flocks outside in the duck yard. This chick, however, didn’t grow. If she were put in with the big kids, she’s had been pecked, maybe to death. Animals don’t like new or different things in their pen...territorial, I guess. The only cage we had was already occupied by Henry, the guinea pig.

We were amazed that Henry was willing to share