a tale of tails, tenacity, and tedium, as told by me, usually barefoot and bellowing

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Omega

When we take our first breath we are unaware it is the beginning of our journey toward death. Hopefully we learn our choices have consequences and for every door that closes another opens.  With guidance we should gain a sense of responsibility and morality.  Our contentment or direction may change but we still travel our road to death. The In Between Times are full of changes, love, sadness and goodbyes.

In 2008 I began to blog about my journey.  I've shared my dreams and my life.  You've become familiar with my love of the land, animals, and the people around me.  You've laughed, cried and prayed with and for me.

I'll never write a best seller nor paint a masterpiece nor make a great discovery that will change the world but YOU, my great blogger friends, have given me a delightfully varied view of this large world. It is time for me to laugh more, love more, spend less time on the computer and more time with my family, my life and my choices. As I continue on my path from birth to death I bid you adieu with sadness and with joy for having met you.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Molly's Buckle


We lived in the valley where I live now.  Dad and Mom decided we needed to be closer to the highway to catch the school bus otherwise we would be walking over a mile in all kinds of weather one way to catch the bus. They purchased a small house from a couple that had belonged to their daughter who had moved away.

In those ancient days it was proper respect to call elders you didn't know by Mister, Missus or Miss and elder friends were addressed by Aunt and Uncle.

That placed us close to neighbors, Joe and Emma Rose, in their grandparent years with their children grown and gone. I adopted them, or they me, I'm not really sure which was true. They quickly became Aunt Emma and Uncle Joe.  I was there when ever I could obtain permission.

They had a Catalpa tree that reached the sky.  I could climb to the top and sway in the breeze with no admonition. It was heavenly!

Aunt Emma's kitchen always had great smells and Uncle Joe's barn always had surprises to discover.

AND they had a horse. She was almost a true black with the longest mane I'd ever seen.  Her tail touched the ground.  In the middle of her forehead was one bright white star.  Molly would present her head to be scratched and hugged no matter how small you were.

Molly could pull a plow and turned our garden many times.  I was able to ride her, too.  In fact Molly would willingly walk with five children on board at a time.  I learned Molly had been a show horse with many ribbons and trophies ridden by Aunt Emma and Uncle's Joe's daughter. Molly was twenty-three when I met her.

In the barn Uncle Joe and I found part of Molly's old show halter with the buckle still attached.  He removed the buckle and handed it  to me.  He said I could think of Molly every time I held it.

Life changes.  Aunt Emma and Uncle Joe moved closer to their son.  Molly went with them.

I still have Molly's buckle. 
Oh, the memories I have when I hold the buckle in my hand.
Thank you, Aunt Emma and Uncle Joe.
Thank you, Molly.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Frying Goldfish

Yep, that's me!  The girl in a dress (oh, the horror! Where are my overalls?) with Mr. and Mrs. German.  I'm guessing we've been fishing.

Dad worked road construction. Sometimes we traveled with him.  We would rent a house or a cabin and stay until Dad's job was done. We always came home to the farm but summers were extra special.

I was very lucky.  Our neighbors raised goldfish in long metal aerated tanks. Part of my "job" when I came to visit was picking out the floating goldfish. I was allowed to feed them to Mrs.German's cat.  During all this fun I decided it just wasn't right to feed the cat RAW goldfish. I presented my idea to Mrs. German. She was happy to comply.  She gave me a big jar lid and a fork and allowed me to stir and cook to my heart's content on their heating stove in their living room!  Of course the fish never got hot.  I tip toed to reach the top of the stove then I would politely and properly serve the cat his "cooked" meal.  The cat seems to enjoy the special service.

Mrs. German just smiled. Mr. German seemed to enjoy pulling my braid.    I was in trouble many times for slipping away to visit the neighbors without asking permission first. Mother taught me that lesson well.
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