Morning

Early in the morning, there's a time that seems almost magical. You can't really assign a specific time to it, but it's when the fog is just about melted off the mountains. The spider webs glisten like jewels and there's still a slight breeze left from the night before.

Garage Sale Addiction

 I know I have a garage sale addiction. I know I do and I'm trying to keep it under control. I only allow my self three a day on Friday and Saturday on the way home from work UNLESS it's a special occassion (like a community sale). See? I don't make any special trips. I'm in my car-which cuts down on large purchases and that of farm animals.Before you juge me-this is what I got for $3.75:
a christmas tree skirt-with an elaborate cut out lace fringe
2 really cool snowflake cookie cutters
a blouse
some boots to wear to feed the animals
an owl salt and pepper shaker set that came with a tooth pick holder
and a large pendant that could be put on a necklace or broach
and I had a lot of fun

Happy Father's Day Daddy

A long time ago, when I was a young girl I would often wind down my summer days playing in the yard. I'd either be in a tree or playing in the sand at the foot of the hill, but I'd be in the yard with one ear cocked towards the road. As soon as I heard my Dad's motorcycle, I would race him to our driveway. As he pulled in, I'd be there hopping up and down begging for a ride "just ONE time around the block". It was one time around the block for me, but it often became many more for him as I was the oldest of four and there were often neighborhood kids standing in line too. It never occurred to me that he might be tired or that he had just worked all day. I don't ever remember him telling me no either.  Dad, if you're reading this I want to say thanks for all those miles on the motorcycle. I want to say thanks too for being a rock after my mom died. Her death taught me that no one can ever take tomorrow for granted. I don't call as often as I should. I'm three hours away, but
there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of you. I want to  make sure you know how much I love you. I love you very, very much. I always have. I don't think I've ever told you how proud I am of you. You came from a small delta town to a big city finishing your college degrees working full time after fathering four kids. Becoming a mom came easy for me, I had the best teacher in the entire world. You never had that luxury. You never knew your father's love  or discipline or had his guidance. You had to self teach yourself a whole lot of things. All in all, I think Gramps would have just as proud of you as I am but for the record I love you more.

Happy Father's Day Mike

Sunday is Father's Day, so I'm taking the day before to proclaim it Stepfather's Day. Mike, You are so much more than my mom's husband. You've been a wonderful dad and Grandpa and friend. I can't imagine our lives without you-you've taught us how to work on things, how to fish and canoe, how to balance a heavy work load with family. I hope this picture doesn't upset you, but I love the smiles on both of your faces. I hope Father's Day puts this kind of smile on your face again. Wish I could be there in person but know that I'm thinking of you and that I love you very much.

Laughter in the wind

 My sister Robyn came up for a visit this weekend. Saturday we attempted to eat out a decent restaurant (failed) and stayed up drinking some wine and talking. Sunday, started a whole different ball game. Horses were caught and chocalate gravy on the table by eight, followed by a catching and releasing of the ducks-they were caught in the chicken pen and released into the pond with the other ducks. Casey and Lauren took the horses out while Robyn and I checked river conditions and visited a very old cemetary. Then it was bathing suits on under clothes and we headed to Low Gap Cafe. There, the food did not disappoint-there was steak, frog legs, rhubarb pie and lots of other goodies. Then we headed to the Buffalo River to get some swimming done. It was great catching some rays and watching Lauren and Casey play like little mermaids.
On the way home, Robyn's got the top on the convertible down. We've all got our swim suits on. The sun is shining and the mountains are gorgeous. We're all singing at the top of our voices and dancing as much as you possibly can in a seat belt. There were smiles and giggles all the way around. I heard a familiar laugh. It sounded so much like Mom I turned in my seat to look, but I didn't see her. It could have been any one of us-sometimes we all sound like her, but I like to think it really was her and that she was laughing at her girls. It felt really good to laugh and sing and dance and be in the sunshine with people that you really love.

Gettin' Right with Jesus ( pray for me)

Yesterday was Sunday and all over the world people were going to church and talking to Jesus and giving him praise. I'm not one that goes to church every Sunday and until quite recently we had a pretty decent relationship. I pray on a daily basis-giving a lot of thanks and usually making requests for people in need. I talk to him driving to work, riding the horse or motorcycle, cleaning, and just walking. I talk to him just like a friend and just like a friend can do, He pissed me off. Really, really pissed me off.  It's been over a week now and I'm still mad at him for taking my mom. I know He created the universe. I know He is all-knowing and with that knowledge, He knew how much she was still needed here. We made plans for Memorial Day-plans to pick blueberries-and preordered "Turkhens". I understand He has a master plan, but he could have given me some kind of heads up. She could have looked sick or sad when I saw her just five days before her death. God could have given me some kind of signal to stop and talk to her more than just an hour. He could have nudged me forward to give her one last hug instead of just squeezing her hands. I don't understand why these things could have such a huge impact on the world and they might make me feel a little bit better. I guess it's all part of the "Master Plan" but that doesn't mean I have to understand or like it. I'm trying to get past that angry stage. Already, I know that I had my mom a lot longer than my dad had his mother. Longer than my husband had his. I'm thankful that we had the relationship that we did. There are lots of great memories and photos for which I am eternally grateful.  Really I am, but then something happens and I pick up the phone to call her and that anger resurfaces followed by a stab to the heart. I guess at some point I should feel blessed-I have so many people around me that care and want to make things better. My children have been incredible. My remaining parents (all three of them) have been towers of strength and good examples for me to follow. My husband has shown me a caring side of him that I never knew existed. He's always been sweet and lovable, but he understands and shows compassion in a way I never thought possible. It's one thing to know how much creamer to put in my coffee or when to give me chocolate-it's another thing to know when to just hug me and say the right words. He understands the need for speed to get past a cementery and looks the other way when I laugh hysterically when someone mentions "Amazing Grace".  I guess I should offer another prayer of thanks, but I'm still working on the anger issue.

A long walk before the funeral

I took a long walk. I'm not sure of the distance, but I wanted something to hurt other than my heart. I figured I had succeeded when my calves started to twtch and sweat started to seep into variuos nooks and crannies. I went down an old logging road. Past the gates that block the road. I started to scream. loud and hard from the bottom of my broken heart. Then I screamed some more. I saida lot of things that my mom would not approve of. I wailed until my throat hurt as much as my heart and my tear weary eyes. Then I started back and I thought of how much she had taught me. She taught me how to live with heart ache and disappointment and fear. She cried with me so many times.Making me feel loved and leaving me wanting to shake it off and do anything to see her beautful smile. I want to make her smile one more time. This buttercup is going to suck it up. I am going to make her proud of me just one more time. I'd like to think of her elbowing Jesus in the ribs telling Him that she gave birth (pointing) to that one there.