I AM

Baby face WHO? I can't help it if I am so cute. Get me a hambone while you are up, K? 

This is my new friend, Smooch. He is a pretty pooch. He is still just a puppy at 68lbs and a year old. He is a cow dog, an American Cow dog. Some call him an American Bull dog, but I think he's more of a cow dog. 

The Truth Vindicated: "This is my commandment, that YOU love one another" - May those who carry the Name of Jehovah act with loyalty'

Sitting with warm tea and thoughts of staying strong reminds me of when I would go see my grandmother on my mothers side. She was always a strong person to me, not real big, never loud or bossy to others (was firm only when I needed it) Like walking into a brick wall when you got out of line. She was one to be gentle and always warm hands. I knew she loved me even when it seemed impossable to get anything past her. "bu' gramma, I want that" I'd say in hopes of appealing to her generouse side. She'd look in my eyes and say "Does it hurt you to 'want' that?" "Yes, it does, gramma, I REALLY want that" I'd reply (not knowing it was the set up for a turn around) "Well, then you best quit wanting it, if it hurts that bad" she'd say in a very concerned way. (That didn't work, how about if we turn it around again) 'Well, bu' gramma, its just that I'd like to HAVE it. It don't hurt to want it, ju

W ell, time has gone along and I find I am no longer at the farm I was living on at the starting of my Blogs. It happens when you go though fast paced changes, lives lived, lives lost, changes if time and coin, it is but lost. Time gone bye and I have grown older, while others have grown colder......its true. I loose thought of what yesterday was about. Looking, not knowing, of just what tommorrow brings. When time stands still in the middle of the day, long into the evening, past twilight, for nothing is what the lives of too many remain to be. Sound the alarm, ring the farm bells, shout and make a noise. Yes, we still are here. I too know why God hates a divorcing....... I will be lost into a dreaded world where morals are in derision and so many have not vision. I know that the fiber of my long gone ancestors lives in my blood and soal. They were all survivors of plagues and famons with a constitution of strong moral sense. I shall pray to God for the endurence of

The morning wake was not thrilling. I am yet to be really going. I should get some warm tea going. Throw a bit of wood in the woodstove. See what breakfast I can sum up. Listen to the news of not so much who got shot in Kansas City but how many. I find the best to start my day is a humble prayer of thanks for the many things I do have and the burdens I DON'T have. Peace is such a wonderful place to be. A scripture for meditation through out the day. Now if I can figure out what day it is.

Once again in a slow March, seems very slow, even too slow and chilly and wet. In my childhood I guess this didn't count so much for some reason. Now as the air is supposed to warm, it still carries a bite to the bone. Spring not here, winter not gone. Ah, but I will miss these days even soon, when the summer is hot looking at a July Moon. Seasons yet, as I grow older, summers hot, and winters colder. I must start my day.

Home is where the heart is. Home is where the Hearth is. For me, I want to imagine a warm little cabin in the midst of a small clearing in a big woods. Inside are rocking chairs, goosedown feather beds/comforters, fresh milk still warm from the cow, and bright red skivvies with the hatch in the back. Reading outloud to my granddaughter, now 1, about the old tales of long ago. Where has story telling gone? Sitting by the homefire, telling stories. When grandpa stole the bobcat cub and wrapped it in his coat. The mother bobcat caught the scent and chased him on his cob pony all the way home. The bulldog set up a ruckus when he heard them coming and as the old mother cat let out a squall, the pony leaped up on the back porch and jumped into the kitchen and the bulldog went under the porch. His mother heard it all and cought the pony before it took the cook stove out. Grandpa was a great rider, but with the cub in his coat, he fell of as they went through the door and he slammed the d