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

Thursday, July 31, 2014

My Many Hats...

There are many hats we wear in a life time, some all the time, some only a few times but the importance of that hat is not lessened.  I had a postal hat but I've laid that aside as I have many hats in my past. My current hats include but limited to those below.
At The Shop hat
Sweating boat-loads hat
My Wife hat
My construction/repair hat
My explorer hat
My cattle feeding hat
My cattle working hat
My rock hunting hat
and a hat I don't wear anymore.

We wear our hats with pride or in hiding due to our choices but we all have hats.  Wear them well.  Be proud of the hat you wear...change 'em around just for fun.  Maybe wear someone else's hat for awhile and look at the world differently but love the hat you wear.

Monday, July 28, 2014

The Moon

The moon
She calls me
To follow
The moonlit night
She holds her lantern high
And cries follow
Beneath the moon lit sky

Open Link with Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Sunday, July 27, 2014

The Sunday Whirl...Art?

After the hunt
The skill
The thrill
Unfolds again
In my memory

With shallow mind
Hallowed space
Centers me
To dabble
With paint
And reflection

Of color
Painted image
by me

Magpie Tales' Royalty

Tess Kincaid's prompt at Magpie Tales
We'll never know
Your life
Collecting bits and pieces
We guess
Fill in the gaps
My question is
Did you birth Anubis?
My painting

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Trash To Treasure For Poetry Jam

Someone threw 
This tub away
I became it's foster parent
Invited it to stay

First it watered horses
As they walked by
The horses left
The tub stayed high and dry

Sad to see the tub
Sitting all alone
Then came Bonnie
A water lover to the bone

The lilies weren't happy
Being chewed and torn
Because of busy Bonnie
A new idea was born
So this poor discarded tub
With no purpose at all
Became the lily reserve
And a unique water fall

I Am Not Just The Photos

I wondered today what my attitude was the first July I posted.  I have republished the exact post from that date. Funny, how not much has changed and yet much has changed.

Thank you for reading my 2045 posts since September '08.  I have reached 503 followers.  I am embarrassed by not having time to read each post of yours every day.  Know my thoughts are with you when my words are not.  I promise I will improve soon.

Without further adieu my July 25th post from 2009.  Thanks every one.

...placed here carefully with a few words. When I have lots of photos, I have fewer words, so tonight I shall ramble, photoless. My picture may become clearer that way.

It is always hard to talk about yourself, truthfully, but I shall try. I am a housewife of thirty-seven years, a mother and a postal employee for almost as long. I have two grown daughters and three grandsons, the eldest, Andrew, lives with us. So at a time when we are supposed to be preparing for retirement, we are treading in the dangerous waters of puberty, this time with a boy.

Also, my husband is the emergency manager of our county, we both work outside the home and afternoons and weekends we try to farm, if there are no disasters going on. Now, you who farm know this does not work. There is always a fence down, a cow out, armadillos in the garden, Copperheads in the yard, roosters crowing, horses running and no time to get it all done. There are posts to cut, hay to stack, cows to feed, horses to groom (my pleasure), rocks to pick up, washes to fill, wood to cut, brush to burn, plus all the normal maintenance.

We are on the family farm, after traveling full circle. I was raised on a farm, my husband was not and his dream was to have a farm. Here we are, one following his dream of farming or cattle production and one following the dream of owning horses. We never dreamed of all the stuff in between. I knew, but hubby was not so clear on it since he had never actually lived it.

I was raised by Depression Era parents and was taught to make do, hubby goes to the store. I can make lye soap, hubby goes to the store. If I had a piece of material and the girls needed clothes I made them. Hubby went to the store. Hubby has learned, now, we make do and recycle things and has become quite good at it.

I had early visions of being a veterinarian but did not want to have my parents pay for all those years in school so I married the man I love. Shortly after I began my career and made a big circle and have landed back home again.

I love horses, I paint, I read, I write, I live, I photograph, and I cook and clean and do laundry and, whew! I am tired already!

Farming is a good life yet farming is a hard life. You learn about life and death up close and personal each day you help deliver a calf or foal. You worry when the dogs are a little off or a cow is overdue, or a horse stepped funny on that last walk by you. You know you're gonna butcher that calf but you name it anyway. I have cried with a dead animal in my arms.

I really don't know what I intended to say when I started this, so I'll stop. I think I wanted to say life is good, even when it is difficult, it is good.

Friday, July 25, 2014

Thursday, July 24, 2014

I Think...

All heroes don't wear capes.
Everyone can get along.
Tears are as real as
Mark Harmon is not the only guy
who can rock this haircut.
Funny faces are fun.
Fires can be like revenge
especially with thorny plants.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Let 'Er Burn!

Hubby couldn't stand it.
He had to strike the match.
I cleared some more
and more.
Hubby had a great idea.
Far easier than carrying it to the pile.
Stoking the fire was easier too.
I just couldn't cut fast enough.
The next project waits.

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Work Continues...

Oh, no, not more brush piles!!!  I am on a roll!  The weather has been perfect for trimming.  I think I have pulled some twenty foot briers out of trees.  I have seen ground I have not seen in years.  Life is good.  I am seeing progress.
And one more pile almost gone.
Hubby had a great idea.
Far better than me carrying arm loads at a time.
Two piles gone.
Many more to go.

Monday, July 21, 2014

A Moon Beam For Open Link...

I tried to pick
A moon beam
From the rug
Where it lay
Slipped right
Through my fingers
Went on its merry way

I thought of fairies
Star dust
About children
Who have an octopus
For a pet
And wishes

I clapped my hands for Tinkerbell
I searched for the rainbow
I gathered stardust in buckets
I cried for the children
Then with only love
And a little magic
I caught a moonbeam
For Open Link at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads
 Inspired by Brian Miller's Who Can Tame The Tides//"

Saturday, July 19, 2014

An Early Morning Tale

These hands pained me this morning telling a weather change was coming.  My hands did more work when they weren't knotted and gnarled from age and accidents.

Warming by the wood cook stove I waited for the coffee to perk. The percolator was a welcome sound that ushered in the day while I made plans.

These knotty fingers have sewn quilts and stitched up wounds.  They have birthed babies and spanked children when it was the common practice.  They have milked cows and have made biscuits all without a thought of them ever failing me.

Pulling my shawl around me and the chair closer to the fire I listened to the rhythmic sound of the coffee pot. Billy Jo, bless her heart, had brought an electric coffee pot.  It still sat in its box unopened. No reason to use it since there was only me.

Husband gone this past winter, two children passed before the age of reason.  Just me now in this old house that had been so full of life years past.  This is where my marriage bed was.  I did my duties for my husband all these years.  Tried to bear and raise my young ones, tried to a good wife and mother.  Here in later years the grands used to gather around this old chair eager for my words and stories.

They have their own lives now and it's just me and The Duke who warms by the fire with me every winter morning. 

Most of my friends have already passed.  That's the sad thing about aging; the people you know begin to die off.

The coffee finally perked to perfection I poured a cup, black as I always take it, holding it in both hands for the warmth as the coffee cooled.  The tin cup that belonged to my mother's mother not only warmed my hands but also warmed my heart.

I continued to sit, rocking a little, smiling at old thoughts of passed times.

I patted the old dog.  He woke when I said, "It's just you and me."  The dog looked at me a moment and laid his head onto his paws to rest.

My grandson would be coming soon to take me to get some "staples" I needed.  

I smiled, closed my eyes and rocked in the warmth of the past.
The grandson arrived.  The smoke rising from the chimney caused his own memories to come to life as he walked toward the house to greet his grandmother.

The dog whined then howled as he reached the door. This was odd behavior even for The Duke.  When the knock and shout went unanswered the middle-aged grandson opened the door.

He found her in the rocking chair pulled up close to the fire.  Her favorite coffee cup laid spilled beside her.  

When The Duke howled again, the grandson knew the matriarch was gone.  Still warm in her chair she sat as always with a smile on her face that said the journey home had been a peaceful ride.

The Duke howled.

The grandson kissed his grandmother's cheek, swallowed his tears and reached for his cell phone, punching in 911.
Unexpected for Poetry Jam

Friday, July 18, 2014

I Met Another Me

She laughed often
Cried easily
Loved the days more

Following her dreams
She wore paint on her clothing
From masterpieces
Along with horse hair

Her journal was filled
With magic
And sketches

Meeting her
She asked.
"Why not you?"
I could only cry
For Fireblossom Friday at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Showing My Bloomers

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