So close...

Cliff once told the story of the time he was in college and took part in a 750 voice choral and orchestra presentation of Handel’s Messiah. He said he was pretty sure there were a few measures during the Hallelujah Chorus when all he could do was just stand there and listen. I can only imagine how all that magnificent music sounded from within.

I went out around 5:30 this frigid morning (it was only -3 today at 5:30) to feed the horses, muck their stalls and de-ice their water. I’ve been doing this 5 times a day and twice a night since Wednesday and have yet to see or hear any traffic either on our road, which is drifted shut, or on the paved road ½ mile away, which is also drifted shut, right at our corner. (Yes, directions to our house include the phrase, “Turn off the blacktop…”) The only sounds that I’ve encountered on these adventures through the storm to the barn have been howling winds and the crunching of my boots on the show.

On my way back to the house, much to my surprise and delight, I heard the sound of a snow plow off in the distance. He was so far away I couldn’t even see his familiar flashing lights. But I could clearly hear the sound of his blade scraping on the pavement and the “beep beep beep” when ever he had to back up. All I could do was just stand there and listen… while the opening measures of the Hallelujah Chorus began to run through my head. The music, however, faded away when I realized the snow plow was moving away from me.

Sigh…..

Praying for Daylight

Well, friends, here we are again. Remember the picture below of the six foot drift that hasn't changed since it landed? Well, it's now taller. And wider. And surrounded by more drifts so I can't get to a good place to photograph it without making my way through waist-deep snow.

And it COLD. -6 F or something like that.

And our furnace isn't working.

And our lane is drifted completey shut.

But, hey! Our power is still on, so we can have space heaters going to take out the chill. And both the satelites are working, so I can blog and watch Food network.

We have a really good barn, so my horses don't have to be out in this brutal weather. (Bubba is an Arabian, you know, so he's not cut out for this kind of stuff.)

The wind finally quit blowing. AND we have a Good Neighbor who will be coming to help dig us out some time today.

We are safe at home, not out on the roads. Except for my brother-in-law who is stranded at a truck stop in Iowa, but he's been there and done that before, so I trust he's hanging in there until he can get back on the road and head for home.

And I had the opportunity to photograph some very impressive sun dogs yesterday. I'll be posting them as soon as I get them developed. (Still haven't gone digital).

So there you have it: the bad news and the good news.

Happy Friday, Everyone!

Snow pictures from Nebraska:

The Place - we were stranded here at home from Wednesday through Sunday.



The back yard. This drift is about 6 feet high. It hasn't shrank an inch since it landed.



The horses were glad to get out of the barn when it finally stopped snowing. They were inside for three days.





I think the final tally here was about 14 inches fell from December 23-26. The high winds made travel impossible until Sunday the 27th. More snow and expected on Wednesday the 5th, followed by below zero highs for several days.

Peace Be Upon You!

I know I haven't posted in a while, but what a way to come back.. Enjoy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnLqoRtUAVg

Another rerun

This was Happy Trails in the CBC Post, July 1998

A person does not have to spend very much time shopping for a horse before coming to the conclusion that what a buyer thinks a word or phrase means and what the seller thinks a word or phrase means mare sometimes two different things entirely.

For example, if an ad in the paper says a horse is “gentle” the buyer might take it to mean that the horse is willing to stand quietly and cooperatively for pretty near anything from grooming and saddling to farrier and vet care. On the other hand, everybody who has a horse to sell has put “gentle” in their ad, so it might not mean anything at all. Or if a horse is advertised as “bombproof,” the buyer thinks it means the horse won’t spook around traffic or when pheasants fly up from nowhere. But what it really means is he’s probably so old he doesn’t have the ‘git’ to run away from anything and anyway, at his age, he’s probably seen everything from the horse drawn milk wagon to space shuttle and you couldn’t scare him if you wanted to.

I ran across this list in Horses USA magazine:

What the ad says What it really means

“Friendly” comes up to you in the pasture,
but you won’t be able to catch him.

“seasoned” tired

“good with kids” doesn’t like adults much,
might have a sore back

“man’s horse” you’ll have to be a weight
lifter to stop this one

“needs experienced rider” bucks, spooks, runs away, rears

“good prospect” the horse may be able to
perform as required in a few years

“broke” green-broke

“green-broke” halter broke

“halter broke” once looked at a halter

“loves trails” hates arenas

“successfully shown” no one was killed at the one
schooling show he was taken to

There’s probably a lot more a person could add, but you get the idea.

I’m thankful that God’s Word does not require any tricky interpretations. It says what it means, plain and simple. When it says, “You shall not commit adultery” Ex 20:15, it means you shall not commit adultery. It doesn’t mean, “You really shouldn’t commit adultery, but go ahead if you really can’t resist.”

And when it says, “You shall not steal” Ex 20:15, it means you shall not steal. It doesn’t mean, “You really shouldn’t steal, but if your broke, go ahead.” What do you suppose it means when it says, “And my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:9 It means God will supply all your needs so you won’t ever have to steal.

It isn’t all on the negative side. It says in 1 John 1:9 that “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

And how can we know that this is all the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? Because God can’t lie (Numbers 23:19) and it all came from God (2 Timothy 3:16).

This was Country Roads in the Blair Enterprise February 13, 1992

I know, in this day and age, that it is extremely unpopular to create male-female role models for your kids, but in my family it just sort of happened. Before we knew it, the mom was in charge of certain chores and the dad has his own realm of duties to perform.

For example, the mom (that would be me) in our household does most of the cooking and housework. We never really sat down and designated those duties as “mom’s job,” it just happened. The mom is also in charge of the stern ‘just-wait’ll-I-get-you-home” looks the children earn when they are misbehaving in public.

The mom also has the privileges of going to the bank on payday, going to the grocery store when necessary, and going where ever else is necessary to keep a family functioning. (Or dysfunctioning, if you prefer.)

The dad in our family, among many other things, is in charge of silliness. It’s his responsibility to offer silly answers to silly questions, laugh at bad jokes and make up nicknames for things that happen around the house.

For instance, when our daughter was a colicky infant, her dad started calling her “Tiny-ranasaurus Rex.”

And one morning, she got a little carried away with the sugar on her cereal, and Dad promptly dubbed it Mount Sugar-Man-jaroo. It did look a lot like a sugar volcano had erupted in her cereal bowl.

If he can’t recall the correct name for the latest cartoon craze, he has a tendency to make up one of his own, like Jeenage Nontant Muja Turtles – or something like that. Or if he can’t quite remember the words to a song, he throws in something that has neither rhyme nor reason or anything to do with the original song, but he does have perfect pitch, and he has been known to juggle while he sings.

This often evokes the response, “Dad, can’t you ever be serious?”

I think it will be awhile before the kids truly appreciate their dad’s sense of humor and the fine fashion in which he has handles his responsibilities in creating levity in a world that doesn’t always offer a lot to laugh about, but I’ll bet long after they have grown and moved away from home, whenever they hear the French National Anthem, the words they sing to themselves will be, “I took my fish to church on Su-un-day!”

Reruns

This one is from the CBC Post (Country Bible Church’s monthly newsletter, which I edited from 1997- 2002) I wrote a column entitled Happy Trails. This one was published in November of 1997 and since my birthday is this Friday, I decided to do this one for you.

While I was growing up, my family had three birthdays to observe in November: my sister’s on the 12th, mine on the 13th and my dad’s on the 14th. Since I am the youngest, everyone has always wondered how I managed to be born on the day between the two existing birthdays instead of on one of them, or during another week entirely, but I’ve never been able to explain it, and it really doesn’t matter, since I had no say in it at the time. But I always did felt special having my birthday right next to Dad’s. I guess I thought it meant I had a head start over the other five of his kids on being his favorite.

I don’t’ remember any huge family celebrations taking place over the course of the three birthdays, but mom always had a flair for Angel food cake, so there was usually at least one of them around.

Dad never wanted any fuss at all made over his birthday, something I have come to understand completely the past few years. I remember a few times when I had somehow gotten come money and did some very careful shopping for just the right birthday present for Dad. He always carried a big red or blue bandanna in the back pocket of his overalls. One year, I noticed some of them were getting frayed and worn looking, so I bought him some nice white ones. He opened the pathetically wrapped package I presented to him and dutifully expressed pleasure in the gift by saying simply, “Hmmmm. Ain't those nice?” He was a man of few words, Dad was.

I’ll never forget the summer of 1969. Dad was driving truck for a frozen food company and I got to ride along with him on a run to Denver. I remember it was very hot and the truck had no air conditioning, so we rode with the windows down. That, and the roar of the truck engine pretty much eliminated any small talk, other than, “How much further?” and “When can we stop and eat?”

One stop that stands out in my mind was at a rest stop along I-80. There was a pond behind the restroom building and Dad and I walked to the water’s edge and saw some carp swimming close to the shore. I threw them a few Cheetos, which they gobbled up and then we both laughed when Dad threw in his cigarette butt, and one of them gobbled it up just as greedily as if it were a Cheeto.

In a tragic turn of events, a few short months after that vacation with Dad, he suffered a massive heart attack and died at the age of 56. I didn’t feel much like having birthdays after that.

In an effort to preserve Dad’s memory, I keep a small collection of his “things.” In addition to a few photos, I have his wallet and a coin purse that he kept in his pocket. And a white handkerchief. But one of my favorite things is a piece of paper that he wrote on. It is a receipt from Oakland Memorial Hospital dated November 18, 1955 and signed by Dr. H. Tibbles that he “received from John E. Gatewood the amount of $98.00 in payment for the delivery and five days of care for his wife and baby daughter. Dad’s signature is on it. Looking at it gives me comfort. I am his daughter, He paid for me. “Paid in full” it says across the bottom of the receipt.

I have another Father who paid for me. Only it cost Him way more than $98.00. He paid my sin debt in full by the blood of His only Son. I am His. And because of that payment, I won’t ever have to die and I’ll someday be reunited with the people I’ve missed so very much since they left this life for a better one.

Now THAT makes me want to throw a birthday party!

Reruns

Okay, here’s the deal. I wrote a personal column called Country Roads for the Blair Enterprise from 1992-1994 or so. And then I wrote one I called Happy Trails (my attempt to be Spiritually insightful) for our church newsletter from the late 90s through 2001 or so. And then I wrote one called Loose Threads (it was mostly about quilting) for Country Lanes magazine for a couple of years. So since I am having trouble finding time to come up with new stuff for this blog, I am going to start posting reruns from one or the other of the three columns I used to write. This will be my chance to make all the corrections I wish I had made before they hit the news stands, so some of them will be edited for… well… whatever they need to have edited out of them in order to make me look more intelligent.

Here’s one from Country Lanes September 2006:

21st Century technology provides us with endless opportunities to buy gadgets. The one that captured my imagination recently is the communications service that comes with certain makes of new vehicles. According to the radio ads, a calm friendly voice speaks to someone who is on the brink of panic because they have just locked their keys in the car with a couple of toddlers. The tech sends out a signal to the car from some remote location, unlocks the car and the caller bids adieu singing the praises of the company and its representatives.

What we really need to do is get our sewing rooms logged onto this emergency communications network. Then, at the touch of a button, we could get on the line with someone who could send out a satellite signal and locate our add-a-quarter when it goes missing. All the while, this person would be speaking in soothing tones; the conversation might go something like this:
Rep: “You’ve reached the Sewing Room Rescue Network. What can I do for you today?”
Quilter: “You’ve gotta help me! My add-a-quarter is buried on my sewing table and I need to get this project finished by tomorrow!!
Rep: “Okay, ma’am, we’re here to help you. I’m just now sending out a signal and your add-a-quarter should begin to beep any second now so you’ll be able to find it.”
Quilter: “Yes! I hear it now! Oh thank you so much! I’ll name my first grandchild after you!”

The Sewing Room Rescue Network would be absolutely invaluable when it’s time to rethread and set the Serger to a new stitch. That might require its own satellite hookup: they could be kept pretty busy.
Rep: “How can I help you today?”
Quilter: “I’m desperate! U have to get this dress hemmed in time for my daughter’s wedding and I can’t get the Serger set for the blind stitch. I’ve tried rethreading and resetting a dozen times and it’s just not working! Help!”
Rep: Okay, ma’am, try to calm down. I’m locating you in our directory and I see you have the Turbo 4740 Model. What you need to do is hold your tongue out the left side of your lip as you thread the needles. And ONLY use your right foot on the footfeet when you get ready to go. But remember, this routine only works on the first Tuesday of the month, so if you need to hem another dress next week, use ONLY your LEFT foot. Would you like me to stay on the line with you while you try that?”
Quilter: “Yes, would you, please?”
Rep: “I’d be happy to. That’s what we’re here for.”
Quilter: Okay, I’ve got it threaded now…. Stepping on the footfeet…. It works! Oh, thank you! You’re the greatest!”
This Sewing Room Rescue Network could also provide emergency supplies of fabric when you only need one more fat quarter to finish, Or just another half spool of thread when you run out and you only one more row to go.
Wait a minute: you already have a Sewing Room Rescue Network. It’s called your local quilt shop!

Not long ago, someone commented to me that I’m “always busy.” It made me wonder what “not busy” would look like in my life.

I wouldn’t be so busy if….

…I didn’t have a Bible to read the first thing every morning.

…I didn’t have a devoted husband to spend weekend days with.

….I didn’t have a daughter to help get settled in a new apartment.

… I didn’t have a son to talk things over with.

…I didn’t have two horses to ride… feed… water… clean up after… how sad would that be?

… I didn’t have Bible verses to memorize.

… I didn’t have a precious friend who sends me her newly published books to read.

… I didn’t have a brother who is glad to see me when ever I drop in.

… I didn’t have sisters, nieces and nephews to blog-visit.

… I had no flowers to water.

… I didn’t have a friend giving me excess tomatoes from his garden to can.

… I didn’t have blog buddies to keep up with.

… I didn’t have a job to keep me occupied Monday through Friday.

… I didn’t have a new recipe to try.

… I didn’t have a quilt to finish.

… I didn’t have a camera and images to make with it.

… I didn’t have awesome music cd’s to listen to.

… I didn’t have a good church to attend and a great preacher to listen to.

… I wasn’t singing with a Gospel Quartet.

And since I am not ready to give any of those things up, I guess I’ll be content to be busy.

And that’s all I can think of right now.

What would “not busy” look like for you?

This is rather introspective, so if you’re looking for a chuckle. This probably ain’t it.

I am now a Starbucks Barista. I don’t know what Barista means, but it’s what I am now. The Starbucks I work for is located inside the Hy Vee store where I have been a cashier since March of ’07. Did you know that “Starbucks” is named for a coffee guzzling character in the Melville novel Moby Dick? Neither did I.

My new job comes with some down time, so I keep a tiny notebook in the pocket of my apron and write down stuff that runs through my feeble mind. This is not something I had time to do working at the grocery department cash register. I rather like it.

And in case you’re wondering why I haven’t been blogging much lately, it’s ‘cause I’ve been busy. I took a second job with a team writing the History of Country Bible Church, Blair NE. This is the church I belong to and it’s fairly young – less than 30 years old and we want to get the history of it’s beginnings on paper before those who can tell it leave us.

I am also working on a novel – please don’t laugh. I’ve finished one (entitled One Square Mile) and am about halfway through the next one. So please forgive me for not blogging as much as I used to.

Anyway, here is something I put in my tiny little apron pocket notebook during my down time.

Thing I Wish I’d Learned Sooner About Raising Kids And Other Relationships:

The difference between “firm” and “harsh.”

The precious nature of time in the development of relationships.

The fleeting nature of teachable moments.

The tremendous rewards of selflessness versus the unrelenting regret of selfishness.

Hobbies can wait.

Encouragements are more effective than reprimands.

The tremendous difference between expectations and potential. (This needs elaboration. Maybe next time…)

The way the words are spoken is more important than the meaning of the words.

That time may be all you can afford to give, but it’s really the only thing they need.

How about you? Can you add a phrase that captures something you wish you’d learned sooner in life? Or am I the only slow learner here?

Cliff; I know what you’re going to say; “Never fry bacon in the nude…”

Okay, so maybe there is a chuckle here for you…

I am Back and I missed you..

I have a very specific reason for being absent, I am writing it up now for a Tuesday post.

How have y'all been?

I do need to catch up... so for now.. Happy St. Patty's day, Happy Easter, Memorial Day and Independence Day!

Is this a great summer or what!?!

On Independence Day, I got to see two parades; one at 10 Am and the other at 5:30 PM. What fun!

And then, last weekend, I went to a rodeo on Saturday and was in a parade (with my grocery store float) on Sunday afternoon. When I got home on Sunday, my son Jack carved some time out of his busy schedule to go horseback riding with me.

Could it have been any better?!

Well, yes.

Earlier in the week, I had ordered a couple of items online and was looking for them to arrive on Friday. I wasn’t very surprised to see the UPS man pull into my driveway on Monday.

Well, guess what.

Give up?

He brought me my very own copy of Montana Rose by Mary Connealy along with a note that it was sent to me by request of the author. What a wonderful surprise! Mary is a lifelong friend of mine and this is her 4th book to be published. You can learn more about her by going here or here.

The perfect Midwest summer weekend.

Yes, I took pictures. Maybe I’ll get them posted tomorrow.

I'm SO proud.

This photo that I took is gracing the COVER of the most recent issue of The Panorama, a nice little shopper that is published in Tekamah.



And this one:



was the cover photo for the March 12 issue.

I love getting published on paper.
And just in case you're wondering, the flag is the one that flies at the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha. The title of the picture is "The Star Spangled Banner."

The second photo is "Sunrise Over County Road 15."

And yes, I'm still using 35 mm film. I even bought another second hand Pentax with auto-focus, auto-wind and rewind, zoom and built in flash. I'm accumulating quite a nice collection of cameras.

Happy Wednesday!

Making Bricks Without Straw

Remember the story of the Israelites in bondage to the Egyptians? (See Exodus) The long awaited Deliverer (Moses) had at last come to Egypt to confront Old Pharaoh and tell him to “Let the People go.” So what did Pharaoh do? He declared the Israelites had to continue producing their daily quota of bricks, except that he refused to continue supplying them with the necessary straw.

So the elation they must have felt at the appearance of the promised Deliverer was immediately squelched by the punitive and unreasonable work assignment. Instead of leaving Egypt, they were subjected to a more cruel bondage. A testament to the belief that circumstances are never so bad that they can’t be made worse.

Making bricks without straw.

And think how they must have felt about Moses at that point. They probably wished he’d go away so their taskmasters would bring back the straw. Never mind that they would still be slaves. In Egypt, for crying out loud – the place is a desert!

So anyway, I have often had times in my own life experience when I feel like I’m being forced to make bricks without straw. I’m in such a circumstance right now. The details are unimportant; I think you can get the picture.

I’m also in a Romans Chapter 7 sort of mode.

I know the things I SHOULD be doing, but I don’t do them.

And yet I keep doing the things I SHOULDN’T be doing. “Wretched (wo)man that I am!”

And then I remember that following the experience of making bricks without straw, came the parting of the Red Sea and FREEDOM!

And Romans Chapter 8.

So I know circumstances are bound to improve and so will I.

Meanwhile, I have my blog buddies to keep me cheered up.

I've been doing some remodeling over at Nellie's.
Check it out and tell me what you think.

My grandniece, Kendra, who blogs over at Nerd's Corner made the neatest video for a class. She is in 7th grade. Her mom is my niece, cdroses, who pops in here and leaves a comment once in a while. Kendra's grandma is my sister, Sue

Kendra's video is here. It takes about 4 minutes to watch.

Grab a kleenex.

PS, Cliff and Paul; I fixed the link to Nerd's Corner.

Where is eveyone going?


Looks like a graduation.


Look at all the graduates!


There's a familiar face in there somewhere!


Here she is; my favorite member of the University of Nebraska at Omaha Class of 2009:

Emily K: Magna Cum Laude with a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Writing

Don't we look proud?

Hello everyone!

My friend, co-worker, and fellow Blogospherian Shelby had a very profound post up over at her place. I encourage you all to visit her and offer a few encouraging comments.

If you scroll down a ways, you can see some terrific pictures of her recent visit to NYC.

My son, Jack, would appreciate it if you went over to his place and had a looksee at his latest couple of posts.

Also: LOOK! I figured out the live link thing!!!

It used to be said that an extroverted person “wore his heart on his sleeve.”

Well, now a lot of people wear their stories on their chests. Or occasionally on their backs. Since I come face to face with about 125 people every day, I can’t help noticing some interesting T-Shirts.

Here are some I remember:
On a middle-aged straggly haired woman, missing two front teeth: “This is NOT the life I ordered.”

On a gray-haired grandma:
50% sweet
50% sassy
100% American

Being who I am, I remember anything that goes with a picture of a horse:

“Are you gonna cowboy up…or just lay there and bleed?”

“Cowboys are like fine wine;
They start out like grapes and it’s our job to stomp on them and keep them in the dark until they turn into something we would want to have with dinner.”

Written upside down on the back of the shirt: “If you can read this, put me back on my horse.”

On the front: “You ride like a girl” On the back “….. you WISH.”

“If you think I’m a quiet person, it’s because we are not talking about horses.”

And I used to have one that said:

“I love Jesus,
My Horse,
And then it’s between you and the dog.”


On some hurried, harried mothers:
“I childproofed my house, but the kids keep getting in.”

“All stressed out and no one to choke.”

On a college kid:
“It’s only funny until someone gets hurt…
Then it’s hilarious.”

I’ve never seen this one, but Emily says it’s out there”
“Waterboarding – Yes We Can!”

Scarlet or Joe; please translate?
“Iglesia Nueva Jerusalen”

“Los Tigres Del Norte”

What’s the funniest t-shirt you’ve ever seen?

Moving right along....

...or not


Some of you may be wondering why I haven't been posting.

Well I'll tell you...





...I don't know...

Time just gets away from me.

Anyway, following are photos of my latest project: my container garden.

I started with some livestock mineral containers that my landlord very graciously gave me. Randy helped me drill some holes in it for drainage.



Then, we added rocks.
I don't know why, but all the research said to add a layer of rocks. On top of the rocks, I put a layer of horse manure (I have an infinite supply), and then some top soil I bought at the garden center. I figured, purchased top soil would probably be weed-free. Also, it was on sale 4 bags for 5 bucks.



Our cat, Goldie a/k/a Mr. Gold wanted to help with the chicken wire I used to keep the rabbits out of my containers.



I planted gold tomatoes, red tomatoes, tomatillos, jalopenos and green bell peppers. I saved one container for an eggplant and will get that in as soon as the eggplant bedding plants arrive at my garden center.



We put down some landscape fabric for weed control and sat the containers up on "rails" for adequate drainage.



And there you have it: My Container Garden, thoroughly inspected by Mr. Gold.


So... what have you all been up to?