Actress and comedian Roseanne Barr made a big move to her macadamia nut farm in Hawaii after deciding to adopt a healthier lifestyle.
She even made the decision to eat a diet higher in plants!
Along with her longtime partner Johnny Argen, the aspiring farmer has been enjoying her quiet life on the 46-acre property.
Barr paid $1.78 million for the 2,212-square-foot Hawaiian refuge in 2007, which has stunning 360-degree views of the verdant grounds around the property.
The house, which has three bedrooms and three and a half baths, has served as Barr’s peaceful retreat in her senior years.
It gives Barr great pleasure to bring her granddaughters to the farm amid the peaceful surroundings. She once posted a cute photo of herself and her granddaughters walking over a large field of grass, showing a tender moment between a grandparent and a grandchild.
While appreciating the sweet moment, fans couldn’t help but remark on how different the legendary comedian she used to be was from the grandmother role she currently plays.
Barr gave an honest look into her life when she posted a picture of herself soundly dozing among boxes, clothes, and a laptop. Instagram users joked about the photo, captioning it, “Shop till you drop.” One user even suggested, “Fire your housekeeper!!!!”
Another person said, “No, she doesn’t need to fire her housekeeper [sic].” She is the one causing all of the mess! How depressing to see her like this! Extremely depressing! I am aware that nobody is flawless. However, no one would want to see her like this—she’s a huge celebrity! Yes, everyone has bad days from time to time, so you have every right to express that, but really—no way! You are far superior to that!
“Love Roseanne but I thought you were [sic] looking at a homeless camp [illegal substance] addict who passed out,” commented a third commenter.
Oh no. Individuals can be very rude at times!
Despite the divergent viewpoints, it’s obvious that Roseanne is still admired for her comedy and genuineness, whether she’s navigating farm life or sharing intimate moments.
How does Roseanne Barr seem to you? Tell us in the comments below!
I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom
When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.
Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.
“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.
At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.
Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.
As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.
Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.
“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.
“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”
George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”
Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.
“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”
“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.
“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”
Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.
As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.
“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.
Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.
“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.
Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.
“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.
Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.
Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.
As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.
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