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Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Primeval Fire


Saturday our church had our annual hayride/fish fry.  It was awesome as usual; fun times with friends, laughter, and great food.  This is a big fall tradition for our church.  And, as the evening progresses and darkness falls, the children especially look forward to the tradition of the bonfire, toasted marshmallows and hotdogs.  They anticipate this as much or more, I believe, than all the rest of the activities.

There seems to be some primeval call to experience the four elements with wild abandon; does there not?  Look at the extreme sports; they most all deal with pitting oneself against nature, the force of gravity to the earth, to walk on hot coals, spit fire, to fly faster, dive deeper, or go spelunking into the most inaccessible cave possible.

This struck me as I watched the kids; mostly boys, around the bonfire Saturday night.  And I have seen one of my own nephews exhibit this behaviour.  They wanted to keep throwing fuel on the fire; make it bigger, make more sparks kashoosh upwards, to get as close to it as possible and not get burned.   There was that urge to push it to the limit.  

We humans seem to do this to prove our superiority over nature.  Or maybe we just like to flirt with danger.  I don't know; I am no psychologist, but it was just interesting to watch the children interacting with the flames.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

A couple of Maxwell House Finds...

When we cleaned out the aforementioned Maxwell House I tried to salvage as much as I could of things that could be of any value.  I didn't take pictures of much of it, maybe I ought to take more pics of the things I found, but here are two.  

In the cupboards and on the kitchen counters I found this set of Corelle dishes.  I believe there are 24 pieces in total, all in perfect condition, no chips.  I have my own set of Corelle, so I am torn as to what to do with it.  Should I keep it, should I sell it?  I dunno.  We just don't use this many dishes, and we'd never use the cups, or the different sizes of bowls and plates.  I think I will just sell it.

This is my collection of lotus blossom bowls.  I like them.  They make me happy.  Why, I don't know, but they do.  I have never bought on new.  My first 3 or 4 I found at an estate sale.  The others I have added from yard sales. 


I found 2 of these in the Maxwell House.  One was intact, one was chipped.  I added the good one to my collection and am using the chipped one as a water dish for the cat.

Thankful things:  (Hmmm...this isn't so easy on this post, oh, I know.)  Yes, I am thankful that even in the midst of a disaster of a house I was able to find a few nice things. Something to keep and something to pass along to someone else. 

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Some Summer Pics-The California Trip 2015

Because I hadn't blogged all summer, here are a few pictures from our California trip.  Here is Ellen on the airplane on the way over to Denver, I believe.  Before we leave on our trip she sweats about it; she is a born worrywort, from both my dad and her paternal aunt.  

But once we are in the air going she does great; mostly she reads or colors.  In this pic she is wearing her "Grace" American Girl hat.  She bought this herself; saved up her allowance and birthday money and paid for it herself.

Notice that her hair is not braided nor pulled back.  After a 12 or so hour journey her hair wasn't just tangled, it was dreaded.  Serious dreadlocks.  Next year we will do things a bit differently.

Below is a picture of the tail end of our journey that started on June 18th. We did not get to the Eureka/Arcata Airport in McKinleyville until about 4 am on June 19th.  

All the flights out of San Francisco were cancelled.  The next flight at 6 am was full.  The next flight after that was 10 pm; it was likely to be full as well.  

Picture Ellen in a panic and myself very close to.  But they got 2 vans to DRIVE us up, overnight, from San Fran to Eureka.  The drivers were Asian, barely spoke English, and believed in driving at about 85 mph through the mountain passes.  Lovely.  But we got there and here is a pic I snapped of the van we rode in.  

Here is a picture of Rattlesnake Grass.  At least that is what my dad always called it.  He did his best to eliminate it from our property.  There is a patch of it along the road to the park from where my mom lives.  You can guess how it gets its name.

Here, on June 24th, is a picture of Ellen checking her wingspan.  I have tried to get a shot of this every time we go to CA so I can put them together as a growth chart.  But I never have collated them all yet.  I ought to.   

This year Ellen FINALLY started going down the slides by herself.  I was glad to see this.  Every year she has grown a bit and does things differently.

We went to the Made in Humboldt fair.  This year they had an Australian animals exhibit.  Ellen enjoyed this very much.  

We went out to eat a various places.  At Mazotti's in Arcata I had an Italian soda.  I hadn't had an Italian soda in ages.  Well over a decade I believe.  It was very good.

We did go to the beach a couple of times.  Here is Ellen at Moonstone Beach.  Very arguably the prettiest beach there.  The tide came in while we were there and was got to watch it wash up the river that runs into the ocean there.  We also go to watch a couple of surfers do their thing.  Ellen was fascinated by that.

That was pretty much our trip.  Except for the cool kids' play area in the Chicago O'hare airport:
Ellen enjoyed herself greatly here; even made a few friends while we were waiting.  And since we had a 5 hr or more layover, she had plenty of time to play and make friends.  I even made friends with a lady named April.  She had two kids there too.

That's all for now.

I am thankful for: A safe round trip to California.  Sand between my toes, animals from a different country, family to love and laugh with, a daughter who loves to travel.  Beautiful scenery.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Maxwell House...Chapter the Second

Hubby fell a few trees and bull-dozed around and on the other side of the house and bush-hogged, so it looks fairly nice from the road.

This is the view from the front of the house; which actually faces north, away from the road.

Below is the sun room.  I love this room.  It wasn't part of the original house; they added it on much later.  There are no heating/cooling vents in it at all, but they put in 7 or 8 outlets.  Maybe for fans or  The big windows set is actually an old panel of individual panes that they must have found somewhere and had installed when they added this room on.  We ripped out the nasty carpeting and installed laminate wood flooring.  It made a world of difference.  

We brought in a friend and had a painting party: we painted every room but the sun room.  Then we had both upstairs bedrooms  and the front room and hall carpeted (this is the room where Ellen was standing amongst the trash in the other blog post):

The kitchen looks much nicer now that it is cleared out.  We didn't redo the floor in it, but did a great deal of scrubbing to get the stains off the linoleum.  Surprisingly enough under the stains it was in quite good condition.  We did put in a different used fridge and a new range.  

Now we are waiting for someone to come along and love it.  If it were in the right location we'd move into it ourselves.  But since that is not feasible, we do have a couple intent on moving in this week, sight unseen.  They are coming here from Ohio.

Thanks for: A job well done.  Friends willing to pitch in and help. (Of course we paid him, but that's just common courtesy.)  Tenants who will appreciate it.  Laminate wood flooring.  Scenes of beauty in our neighborhood.

Monday, September 14, 2015

The Story of the Maxwell House

When I moved out here in 2004 I vaguely remember hubby and his family discussing that a Mrs Maxwell had passed away and wondering what would become of her property which was situated across from my in-laws place.  Hubby professed his interest in purchasing said property; maybe 10-15 acres and the house pictured below.  The heirs to the property, Maxwells having no children, said they would consider it and there the issue was left to simmer on the back burner for the next 10 yrs.  

Last fall hubby finally got the heirs to capitulate and sell us the property.  We did not actually want the house, we wanted the 10 acres across the road, next to my in-laws place.  Mostly so that no one else would purchase it and put up a dwelling.  But also it will be nice to graze calves there.  

Believe it or not, in order to actually get them to sell the place to us we had to agree to give them 9 ( count them; NINE, months to clean out the house.  There are also two outbuildings, one only partially visible in the above pic; the white thing to right of center.  They still have to the end of 2015 to clean out the storage sheds.  

Anyway.  Their date to hand us the keys to the house was June 30, 2015.  They came for a few hours once or twice, but didn't do too much in the way of cleaning until about June 15th.  And I say "cleaning" loosely.  

After we got the keys, hubby went into the house and found the following:

This is what we call the sun room.  The first door you walk into.

Random items on the sofa in the sun room.

Fifteen-plus year old food in the cupboards.  There were actually eggs in the fridge.  Hubby broke one open, it had actually completely dried up.

The contents of one bedroom.  There was another bedroom almost as bad.  The dining area was piled up like this too.  

The basement.  Just one small corner of the basement. There must have been 4 or more washing machines down here.  There was also a chest freezer that STILL had food in it.  Of course it had quit working awhile back.  It was so nasty.  Hubby lugged it out without opening it.  Hubby lugged out every bit of the basement junk himself.

To say the least; the Maxwells were hoarders.  You name it, they had it.  Much of it was dated from the 70s.  It was a nightmare to clean up.  But we got'er done.  

Now; to work on my thankfulness deal.  I am thankful that though my house is cluttered and I fight it all the time, I am not this bad.  I am thankful I CAN let go of things, donate them and pass them on to others while the items are still usable and not saturated with an indescribable stench. I am thankful for the chance to clean out a house and find various treasures to reclaim.  That part was interesting.  I am thankful that our family worked as a team to get it cleaned out.

Thursday, April 9, 2015

879 Poetry

Here's one I enjoy.  I dunno why I like it, somehow it speaks to me. 

The Cremation of Sam McGee

By Robert W. Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
      By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
      That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
      But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
      I cremated Sam McGee.

Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."

On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.

And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."

Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the curs├Ęd cold, and it's got right hold till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead—it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."

A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.

There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate those last remains."

Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows— O God! how I loathed the thing.

And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.

Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May."
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."

Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared—such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.

Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.

I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.

And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said: "Please close that door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm—
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
      By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
      That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
      But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
      I cremated Sam McGee.

Whee...yet more

I certainly have a way to go, don't I?  Let's see, I've got 120 so far, that makes only...eeek!  Lots more to go.

919 the wren nest out in the milk barn
918 A church that sings hymns
917 Hollyhock seeds that sprouted after a storage of 7-8 yrs
916 A debt-free life
915 Thunder clouds seen from an airplane

914 Toilet paper

913 An empty tomb and all it signifies

912 The in-dwelling of the Holy Spirit, without which I'd be lost

911 Pepper seeds sprouting...yay! They are notorious for NOT sprouting. But I soaked them 24 hrs before planting them.

910 Jointed Teddy Bears
909 Betty Scurlock's chocolate peanut clusters.
908 Bella pulling Ellen's sled in the snow
907 Paper dolls
906 Real frosting on a fake Valentine's cupcake box
905 A glass cherry to top it off
904 Scarf blowing in the breeze
903 The glass barometer
902 Wing imprints in the snow
901 Hearing the 1st peeper sounding in late winter
900 Sprouting green bean umbrellas in the garden in spring
899 Melted chocolate on toasted marshmallows (who needs graham crackers)
898 Ellen -who wrote her name on my handwritten list on the counter ha
897 The smell of a used-book store
896 Rose buds in spring
895 Kittens
894 A grown cat romping like a kitten
893 New pencils
892 playing games with family
891 Vanilla lattes
890 Juicy red-ripe watermelons
889 Ellen's beauty mark in her right cheek
888 Sand dollars
887 Sea shells
886 A good cup of coffee
885 with cream
884 Ice patterns on the pond
883 Graham crackers and milk
882 An owl hooting at dawn
881 The chitter of tree frogs in summer
880 Gilligan's Island re-runs such silliness!

Thursday, March 19, 2015

A Few More things to be thankful for

937 the face of a cow...for some reason they make me laugh
936 the poetry of a horse in motion

935 the smell of clean cat fur
934 smell of cold air during a snow fall
933 cat's chirrup
932 watching Bella the Border Collie in full run
931 raspberry jam
930 emerald moss-covered rocks in brown oak duff
929 oregano
928 color of canned cherries in a jar
927 my apple corer/peeler/slicer
926 walking through crunchy leaves
925 singing out loud in the milk barn
924 reading to Ellen
923 singing silly songs with my husband
922 smell of good leather
921 new shoes
920 Winnie-the-Pooh

Monday, March 9, 2015


Back when Hubby and I first got married we occasionally spoke about having a dog and agreed that it probably wouldn't work as we were so close to the highway that we'd have to pen it up...etc...etc. THEN along came Ellen, whose romantical ideas gained from reading cutesy books about puppies and the like were impervious to Mom's logic concerning the work and aggravations in the owning of sitch.

A bit over a year and a half ago the pleadings hit their peak. Mom remained strictly opposed, Dad caved. However, such an addition must be made to eventually contribute to the good of all; namely support itself in one way or another. Thus, in March 2014, the following was added to our menagerie;

Bella: The Dog I Didn't Want

Cute? You bet. BUT; who mostly takes care of her? The person who didn't want her. Namely Mom, which would be me, as it were.

Pain in the butt? You double-dog bet! A Border Collie is not really a breed for a kid for one thing; very, very high strung and wants to chase, chase, chase and is prone to nip whilst chasing. Very, very smart as well. She knows good and well not to be caught when she's out of her kennel; and won't go in it if she has the faintest inkling she'll get shut back up in it. Does she poop when she's out of her kennel running around? I trow not. Verily after most every walk when returned to her kennel does she vent her opinion of being locked back in with the laying of a doggie doodle or 3 or 4. Who cleans it up? Not the one who paid for her, not the one who wanted her. The first hasn't the time, the second makes more of a mess than I care to deal with every day.

And lest we forget, TDIDW must earn her keep. To that end when the weather clears up and is agreeable to sitch she must be trained to herd cattle. Who is going to do that, I ask you? Not the one who wanted her, not the one who paid for her. We have a DVD some dude from OK made on how to train cattle dogs. Fifteen minutes a day for 30 days should do the trick. We here are all a bit dubious about it, but we shall give it a try. She already knows “sit” fairly well, and is learning “down” which means she must lie on the ground. We really need to work on “come” and “stay.” Then evenually will come “way to me” and “come by.” One means left and the other means right, but beats me which is which.

The second way she will earn her keep is by reproducing. This brings on issues the like of which I do not wish to discuss. Needless to say the every issue concerning this is messy.

If she were to see all the black marks against her TDIDW would likely whine in despair and never look at me again. But I have learned to be thankful for her. (To a certain extent....I certainly wouldn't cry at all if she found herself a good, dog-friendly home where she'd be loved. Then my cat and I could live in peace.)

I do love to go for walks, but before TDIDW came along I'd usually get busy with inside things and not get a chance to get outside. But now I see that furry face peering from her kennel and my guilt gets to me so we go walking most weather-agreeable mornings after Ellen's off to school and the chores are completed. We go mostly down in the creek bottoms and up the back ridge. She has the greatest time chasing squirrels and rabbits. Occasionally she will go after deer, but not often. She was born to run and I love to watch her skim along the field like a bullet. I like to watch her and guess by her behaviour what animal she is smelling. In the bushes when she wags her tail while she's sniffing I imagine she's located a rabbit trail. Then sometimes when she crouches down and kind of slinks warily along staying close to me, I believe she smells coyote. They are all over back down there.

This winter, in the snow, she actually has been a great help to me. I hitch her to Ellen's sled and away we go; fun for Ellen, exercise for Bella and I. And Bella seems to love it too, though she only really puts her heart into it when she is heading toward calves to bark at. Or to the front porch to get a treat that I usually carry with me to give her. We all get a laugh at her digging in her claws and hunching along like a miniature sled dog. “Mush, mush” Ellen will call, and we laugh again.

TDIDW is always glad to see me, is very affectionate with her greetings and never gives me any backtalk. So all in all, she is worthy to be on my 1000 gifts list.

Friday, February 20, 2015

Back at it again

The weather has been winterish here this past week, Ellen has been home from school and there have been many, many things to do.  But without further excuses or ado:

949 puffed chickadee on the bird feeder
948 milk on my Honey Bunches of Oats
947 the perspicacity of a titmouse
946 the haunting cry of a gull
945 the swell and crash of ocean waves
944 daffodils in spring
943 the family I was blessed with, growing up
942 the clank and spin of the windmill
941 a printer with a scanner
940 the awkward grace of a giraffe
939 God's sense of humor when He created the giraffe

Monday, February 9, 2015

Well, hmmm...

I was going to do this daily, make it more fun, post pics and tell stories and whatnot.  But it's proving more difficult than I'd thought.  I will try to do better, but I'd also like to get this done and not be listing these for the next year.  Ha!  Here's a few more.  There's a bit of food favs in this particular list.  It must be because I am trying to limit my calories and want some more! (Edited to add picture of Ellen reading...that's better!)

979 a nice, ripe Bosc pear
978 gnarled oak against a bright blue sky
977 the glow of a sycamore on a dim winter day
976 cat purring in my lap
975 dew on roses
974 popcorn with orange juice
973 fresh pineapple
972 sliced bread
971 my bread machine
970 homemade sour dough bread
969 butter melting on toast
968 the feel of rich black dirt
967 the homey clucking of contented chickens
966 chickens scratching
965 chickens fluffing in a dust bath
964 honey bees buzzing in a clover patch
963 shared laughter
962 a new journal
961 daughter who loves to read
960 daughter as silly as I am
959 really good acapella music
958 Bluegrass gospel
957 the click of sealing jars
956 box turtles rustling through dry leaves
955 the smell of alfalfa
954 Matilda the cat
953 the song of a whipporwill
952 the knock-kneed charm of a new calf
951 white chocolate brownies
950 rocky road brownies -these 2 are the only kinds of brownies I can make with any vague success

Monday, January 26, 2015


983 deer dancing in the field at dusk
982 the silhouette of a deer against a pink dawn
981 a double rainbow
980 the smell of the ocean

This is slow going.  Not because I have trouble thinking up things that I am grateful for, but because I get caught up in trying to think of how to illustrate them.  Pictures are more fun than just plain words on the page. But quite a few of the greatest gifts from God are not those you can really capture on film.  I guess some of these you could.  But when magical moments happen and there is no camera to hand sometimes the picture on your heart is sweeter, however fragile it may be.  

#984 Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting

Because it's good!  And because, really, I think in the past 8-9 years I've bought maybe 2 tubs of ready-made store frosting.  The stuff made from real ingredients is so much better. 

Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting

6 oz semi-sweet chocolate (6 squares-chopped or 1 cup of choco-chips)
1/4 cup water
8 oz cream cheese softened
2 cups confectioner's sugar

In a small pan over low heat, melt chocolate and water.  (Or use microwave if you prefer)  Stir until chocolate is melted and smooth.  Cool to lukewarm.  In large mixer bowl beat cream cheese and chocolate mixture on low speed until blended.  Gradually add confectioner's sugar, beat until smooth. 

Thursday, January 22, 2015

From a pressure cooker to the surf...

989. My pressure cooker. Hubby gave it to me for my birthday the first year we were married, I believe; though I can't quite recollect quite that far back in time. It may have been a rather unromantic gift (though neither of us can be accurately accused of being romantic in any sense of the word) but it sure has been an invaluable tool in the kitchen.  I use it at least once or twice per week; beans, pork steak w/ taters and carrots...etc.  It's great to put a meal in it...10 minutes later; DONE!

988. Homemade ice cream  It saves quite a bit of money.  Hubby likes ice cream most every day.  I used to buy it, but it has skyrocketed in price.  Silly me.  We live on a dairy forevermore...milk, cream, free eggs from mother-in-law.  I just make it in the freezer; that way, no wasting of salt, ice electricity or time.  Funnily enough, Ellen doesn't like it that way.  She'll eat store-bought "keem" as she used to call it when little, but not homemade.  Excellent.  More for hubby.

987. Pepperoni pizza.  I was going to say homemade pepperoni pizza; which, when made correctly is better than store-bought, but any pepperoni pizza is good....mostly.  

986. The sound of ice rattling in a glass of cold water.  With beads of condensation dripping down the sides of the glass.  It's mid-January now and maybe I am dreaming of summer, even though I don't really like summer in Missouri.  But it beats chopping ice.

985. The sound of the surf.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Finishing the 990s....

A couple of days ago I realized that the beauty of doing this One Thousand Gifts countdown on a blog is that you can just use pictures for your gifts.  How super easy is that!?

996. Surviving is a good thing.  January 15, 2015 was an eventful day, to say the least.

995. 50 degree temps in the dead of winter.

994. When we sing a popular song in church that everyone knows and EVERYONE actually sings out loud.

993. A slow cooker!  Dump stuff in, turn on and go live your life while dinner cooks!  How much easier can it get?

992. Getting letters in the mail.  I need to work on writing more snailmail letters to my pals.  I think most of them have given up on me anyway.

991. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy Movies  -I know they didn't follow the books exactly and there are parts they added that I don't care for, but there are scenes I watch over and over.

990. Homemade hot chocolate; not those nasty packets from the store, but the real things you add yourself: milk, cocoa, sugar.


Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Beginning my list of Thanks

One Thousand Gifts Ann Voskamp

Based on the book “One Thousand Gifts” by Ann Voskamp I am going to make the focus of this dairy blog to be my very own list of 1,000 things to be grateful for, from January 2015 until finished. Some things I will just list, some things I will expound upon. Thus begins: A Thousand Dairy Thanks. Happy reading...

November 2014 Gary and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary. I am amazed at how quickly it has gone by. It seems as though I have always lived here, and yet again it seems as though I just arrived. Strange how that happens. In any case here I am. And it is in truth November 6, 2004 that is listed on our license. So it must really be 10 years.

And the thought has just occurred to me; I shall start at 1,000 and count back to number ONE. Pray for me as I do this. HA!

A Thousand Dairy Thanks

1,000. A husband who doesn't like sports. (Laugh if you must; but this was on my list of specifics I gave to God when I asked for a husband. And this fact alone reassures me that God DOES answer prayer!)

999. A husband who doesn't watch TV. (We have never had a TV hooked up in this house, ever. The only reason we own a TV is because Gary won one as a prize here 2-3 years ago. We hooked it to the computer for a brief while as a monitor, but it now resides in the top of our storage shed. Long may it gather dust.)

998. Ten years of marriage without an argument. (Not that we have never differed in our opinions; we just agree to disagree and that's it. )

And the above does not mean either that we have never had our ups and downs. Which brings me to my story for the day. Ten years ago when I came here the adjustment was quite difficult at times. But living on 80+ acres there is room enough to get out and walk off my anxiety. This I did many times. I cannot give the exact date or month, but I remember that first winter I was here I did quite a bit of exploring in the creek bottoms. Down there in one particular area is the 'boneyard.” This is where many of the dearly dairy departed are laid to rest. But being in a watershed area it floods off and on and washes various bit and pieces of bones along the bottoms. Or else the coyotes drag them around. In any case along one fence I encountered a skull. I vaguely remember I was in a dark mood at the time; so I ups and hangs it on a post. It is still there this day.

I do not know who she was, but this gal certainly has seen better days. This fence is right in the flood zone, so many waters have washed underneath her, but here she has perched through sun and snow and rain and flood for the past TEN years. And in death there is also life and renewal. Just this past winter I noticed something;

In her cranium, where her small brain used to be, there is now neatly curled grasses and moss. 

997.  In death there is life.  And as a Christian this is a Spiritual fact I cling to.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

Hot Diggity Dog!


After a year of messing around trying to get back onto this blog I FINALLY did it!  I  can hardly believe it!  Now I have to stop Facebooking so much and blog more. 

 Quite a few people have commented on my Blind Calf Story.  Apparently that post comes up whenever anyone does a query on blind calves.  And I think I did that post several years ago.  So I had to go in and approve those comments. 

So much has happened since November 2013, which is when I last blogged.  I don't know where to start.  In celebration here is a random picture of a cow with her calf.