FARM REPORT

This is the Foot Farm and toes are our passion. We soak them, scrub them, and rub them. We apply lotions, scented oils, paint them and adorn them with flowers and jewels. Our lovely toes take us wherever we want to go and never do they question why we want to go there. Look down at your tootsies and contemplate just for a moment your life without them. Think of the splendor of being able to feel wet sand sliding beneath the soles of your feet on a warm beach. Would you miss sticking them softly into furry slippers, pink stilettos or sexy silver sandals? What good would 150 pairs of shoes do you with out the toes our workers here on the foot farm treat with so much tender loving care?
This is just to remind you to always take great care of your lovely toes. Love them no matter what. Flex them and wiggle them often. Take a nice long bath and put them up on the edge of the tub, wave at them and blow kisses. Thank them for bringing you to every moment of bliss and pleasure that you have ever enjoyed. Cover them with bubbles, lather rinse and repeat. Dip them in warm peach paraffin or cover them with scented sea salts. Thank them every day for being the incredible instruments of lovely transportation that they are. If you ever for an instant think that you can do with out them think again. Our manager would like to remind you that we live to pamper toes. We deem them the most perfectly formed part of the body. If you think our work frivolous and unimportant, we ask you think for one moment if you lost those pink painted toes. If they fell off one day never to be found again. If you woke one morning and they were gone forever. Bring them to us faithfully and let us file clip and rub them. Most of all never ever take those ten little piggies for granted. Our color for the week is Bunny Nose

FARM REPORT

The Foot Farm would like to invite all writers to the first season of Story Survivors. We will be holding write-ins across America and choosing thirteen lucky scribes to move to the farm. Once here they will be required to move into bare housing on the Foot Farm and work along side our workers learning to harvest toes like pros. There will challenges to overcome.
Who writes the best first person short story where the main character is involved in a life threatening situation with a bottle of nail polish? Eliminations will be heart wrenching, judging will be brutal. Thirty days of writing until challengers’ brains are spewing smoke from their nostrils. Housed three to a room they will have only one dictionary between them. No PCs or Macs only a manual portable Smith-Corona typewriter, onion skin paper, four number two pencils and one pencil sharpener.
The judges will be brutal yet honest in their critic. There will be tears, emotionally charged arguments and retribution when plots are mysteriously leaked. A romance will develop between two of the challengers. One challenger plots against the other writers by stealing their onion skin paper. Somehow it will come down to the final four writers. . Whose story will be chosen? Whose adverbs will reign supreme? The Foot Farm will become wildly popular and workers will have trouble keeping up with the demand of visitors who want to visit. Get ready, writing samples are being submitted and the lucky thirteen are being contacted to bring their ideas to the Foot Farm. Our color for this first season will be “Scarlet Starlet

FARM REPORT

Farm workers traveled this week to stay at Mabel's House. We stepped inside of history. Bathed in it, slept in it, and it inspired us. In a steamy hot bath scented with lavender we looked to the left and saw what the hands of man could never hope to create. Surrounded by the color and words of D H Lawrence painted and written to soothe the soul of this woman who lived a life dedicated to filling the world with beauty,drama and inspiration.

As a writer I begged to soak long enough to be worthy of being in her space. I sat in the drawing room and felt the intense conversations of parties long ended but forever suspended in soft yellow light. Serenaded by a city of long tailed birds.

Artists still come to sit in magnificent sturdy chairs at tables piled high with hot scones and eggs with black beans chilies and cheese. They meet, they talk, and they find love. They laugh and live as their passion decrees. It is as she would have loved it to be.
Writers still filling their pages with words written on black sticky courier typewriters in the little rooms downstairs. Photographers cannot resist stopping to unload their bags of lenses.
There is magic in this place. Magic that crosses the centuries, spreads out over a huge meadow and drapes itself over the mountains where you can see the wind. It speaks to me, calls me and wraps its clear blue sky around me like a long lost lover returned to claim me. Farm workers have left a piece of themselves in the cave of an ancient woman grinding corn on a stone. Their hot pink toes were painted with flowers and appreciated as small works of art.

Farm Report

Days on farm have been sad and stressful lately. There was a fire on a neighboring farm.
A horrible accident, our workers could only stand and watch as neighbors, we cherish so much, were lost in the flames. There is no way for us to know whether they suffered or were lost by the force of the explosion. Things on our place have been dragging ever since news of the tragedy reached us. Production has been affected by sadness. Work songs we usually sing have been replaced by sleepless nights punctuated with sounds of burning wood and dreams the orange hue of hot flames.
One of our best workers was hit with news of illness in the family. We gathered around to give our support and love in the only way that we know how. We stayed up late and did each others feet. We polished, painted, rubbed and scrubbed until we all felt better. Workers fell asleep in exhausted heaps and woke the next morning feeling somewhat relieved. Happy to be able to look down at toes painted Most Honorable Red.
We have not been fazed by news stories of monkeys being murdered on street corners. Monkeys on display in book store windows, and monkeys who say that Our President should fail. At the monthly meeting of farm managers the conversation was filled with excitement. Our President was going to speak. We listened and nodded our heads at the words of encouragement that we heard, and smiled at a cute little girl who promised she would never quit. As we continue about our business, squeezing as many feet as possible into our days, biking to visit our neighbors and taking classes to elevate our minds, we are confident. We are so glad that he had time to grab a cold one, kick back and watch the game; have a lovely dinner, be rested relaxed and restored.

FARM REPORT

We hosted a lovely pasta night this week. Workers from neighboring farms in our area came over for food and conversation. It was a lovely night. The conversation was dominated by the dreaded economy. We agreed we all need golden parachutes and bailout money. Reality set in and we shared our views on the President’s economic policies. All of our neighbors, even those from the most prosperous farms are on board with the saving, planning and conserving philosophy that the first family is bringing to the nation.

Budgeting is now the in way to live, think, and behave. One farm has frozen all of its credit cards in huge blocks of ice. They couldn’t bear to cut them up. Even the littlest farm hands are into the budgeting way of life. It’s become chic. One of our neighbors suggested that we read Total Money Makeover by Dave Ramsey. Excerpts were shared over walnut cake and apple pie and all farms have decided to read this book.

To stem the rising economic tide our farm has begun an aggressive marketing strategy. We decided we needed to talk directly to some new feet. Next week will be all about writing the copy for a new radio show.

Workers from our farm were invited to share a great vacation. We were sadly disappointed when plans were abruptly cancelled. We are still crying in our soup about the loss of vacation time. Life can be stressful slinging feet.

FARM REPORT - POST INAUGURAL EDITION

In the midst of moving the base of farm operations Farm Workers received the opportunity of a lifetime, an invitation to attend the inauguration of the 44th President of the United States. After much discussion about schedules and finances we decided that we could not pass up the opportunity, and then the real challenge began. We needed to secure accommodations, we had to get travel plans to get to the big event.
Workers called in colleagues and found rooms at the world famous Diva Den located just steps from the capitol. Farm workers were ecstatic at the sudden opportunity. The Diva Den was booked for our dream inaugural weekend. Even though the workers at the Diva Den were busy putting the finishing touches on inaugural ball gowns they pushed fabric swatches to one side and made room for our workers. An opportunity for rail tickets to the big event popped up and workers snapped them up, deciding to worry about how to get back to the farm later.
When we got off the train in the Capitol the atmosphere was electric. People were smiling and talking and laughing with total strangers. The entire city seemed as if it had landed at a long awaited immense family reunion. We all knew each other and smiled and nodded as we passed each other, we each shared the same favorite relative who was being honored. We were all holding the bible for him.
Workers attended a few parties in a city that was ablaze with parties. Homes were decorated in tiny red white and blue lights and flags. Pictures of the President were mounted in every window. Ben’s Chili Bowl had folks ten deep at the counter and lined up around the corner and down the ally. Chili dogs are the new national snack since the President stopped by for one. People were dancing on the street corners and eating crab cakes at Busboys and Poets on 15th and K.
The finest legal minds from Howard University celebrated by toasting every father, mother, grandmother, and grandfather, every nannie and pop-pop upon whose shoulders the President now stands and they debated long into the night mirroring the great discussions and debates that had made this night possible.
There were elegant balls serving champagne and caviar and house parties serving rabbit stew and gumbo. More stories and tales then workers will ever remember each one more meaningful than the one that came before it. Even though we were crushed against each other, cold and shivering, praising our President with gloved hands; millions of ears leaned on his every word. It was a moment felt through our collective ages down to the first naked foot that touched these shores. Everywhere, everything stopped and the world turned to hear him. All eyes, all hearts are fixed on the 44th President. He has changed everything in the blink of an eye.
Workers watched in wonder as he surveyed his opportunities, his head steady and his mouth set and determined. It has all changed. We were there, the color was love.





Farm workers wish to thank the following for thier contribution to our incredible Capitol Experience....Effe a fabulous friend and Veronica host of the Diva Den;Dr. D, Rick and Theresa Ellis for thier outstanding hospitality, Lauren and John Graham for being wonderful as always, the Honorable Charles Rangle for the best view in town! Of course much love and honor to The President of the United States.

FARM REPORT

Renovations and additions are now complete, the farm is up and running smoothly. It was hard work. Workers spent many hours hauling equipment to the new location but thankfully we are all settled and back to our chores. We have added new services to our already extensive menu and that brought us tons of new visitors and of course new tales.
To welcome our workers to the neighborhood we were invited to a party. The neighbors are eccentric to say the least. Tales were told of one who had his house renovated into an exact replica of TGI Fridays. We wonder what a birthday party must be like in those digs. Would waiters appear and sing that hokey birthday song? Now, the tale of two dads. These guys were so involved comparing new high end SUV's and talking on slick crackberries they forgot their real mission was to take the kids to Chuckie Cheese. Poor chillin got left on the curb! The Eagles won the football game, we know this because our workers got to see it at the party. A wall sized HD projection screen. We are dismayed to report that certain sportscasters need to trim their nose hairs.
Our quote of the week "the higher you go up the flagpole the more your ass shows."

Workers are reading Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen and praying for tickets to the inauguration. Our color this week..."Marooned".