Floating My Doll

I don't remember when she came nor if she had a name.  She never wore clothes.  She was a handy size to haul around with me on my adventures. She was about eight inches tall, stuffed rubber with eyes that closed, and varying cut lengths of reddish brown matted hair.  The only seam was where her head attached to her body.

Naked Friend was a constant companion. She was my ultimate "Action Figure".  She climbed trees with me because I could tuck her in my waistband as I climbed.  She liked dogs.  They liked her and sometimes carried her for me.  I kept a hay string so if the going got rough I could tie her to me or even drag her along. Naked Friend did things I never could.  She jumped from trees bravely and landed uninjured. She rode cattle (more often than I) and even explored the underside of the outdoor toilet. Oh, the adventures we had!

The hay string could be her safety line so I tied it permanently around her neck. It gave Naked Friend such a sense of security she began to have more and more adventures.

Our friend and neighbor lived down the creek from us. Mom and Dad visited often.  Naked Friend and I always went too.

Uncle Ray's creek was the continuance of ours with springs joining it along the way.  By the time it flowed below Uncle Ray's front yard it was too big for me to enter without an adult. The creek was in view of Uncle Ray's porch so the adults could watch me while I played BESIDE the creek.

Naked Friend was far luckier.  She entered the stream with her hay string around her neck.  The current would grab her and rush her to the end of the string as I ran along side on dry ground.  Back and forth, back and forth, Naked Friend floated and I ran. It was the highest form of entertainment for a four year old tom boy (who didn't really like dolls).

I thought of Naked Friend (named for this story) and told the tale to my hubby.  He was shocked and appalled as if I were a serial killer or something.  I said, It was just a doll. He shook his head.

Oh, the imaginative adventures of a country child!  I think Hubby will be watching me next time I'm around him with any kind of rope.

May our imagination and sense of adventure never fade.

Ping Pong Work and Chip Board World

Fill the sink, clean the floor, put dishes in the water, clean the stove, start a load of clothes, empty the trash, wash the sink of dishes and put in some more.

Ping Pong.  Here.  There.  Back again.  No one's keeping score as long as the ball is in play. I'm sure there's a more relaxed way of doing but I bounce.  I seem to accomplish few things during the play but when all is said and done chores are completed.

This past couple of weeks we've tried to replace Andrew's floor.  The chip (Commingled Half-baked Interfused Paste) board had reached the end of it's life and was slowly disintegrating. This repair entailed removing carpet, padding, tack board, chip board, glue, two inch steeples and taking it all back to the two by floor joists.

This has been a comedy of errors.  Not only are our bodies not cooperating, the minds went on strike too.  I'm a firm believer of planning, measuring, and doing both again before a cut is ever made. We discussed which way to run the plywood...yes, plywood is replacing this mess of sawdust.  We decided first this way, then that and finally, because I couldn't remember which way we had decided I drew a big arrow on the floor so I would not forget again.

To see two non-agile people step/walk across two inch boards carrying power tools and big boards while praying we keep our balance would have made a great little movie.

I've laughed many times at old cartoons where a character would saw a limb off while they were standing on it.  Well, I even tried that, kinda.  I cut two slices through chip board in one section and stepped to the next to cut two more strips so they could be pried up with a crowbar. Having finished that cut I promptly stepped onto the previously cut piece and plummeted to the ground, grateful it was just under two feet. Didn't have to pry that chip board off...it went with me.

Slowly we have battled the deconstruction and the reconstruction.  To quote Hubby, "I ain't no damn carpenter!" but we've managed.  One more sheet and a tiny spot of piecing and we will be ready to lay the floor covering.

Another challenge was doing this without removing the furniture.  It has been the biggest jigsaw puzzle we've ever tried to piece together.

In The Sand

Possessed
By my workaholic attitude
I do silly things
Like I'm Super Man
Or Wonder Woman
Or Grand Gardener

Today
I pulled
On a very rotten limb
Until it broke
And fell with me
Hitting the ground first

My darling witnessed this
Offering me a hand up
No, thank you, I said
I just want to lay here
And ponder my stupidity
A moment

As the nice swing sand
Stuck to my sweaty parts
I thought some day
I'll be found
Like the poor bird
Dissolving in the fence

I lay long enough
Just looking and thinking
That Hubby checked again
To see if I was breathing or broken
He said, You have sand in your hair
As I took his hand this time

Join the fun at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads and Poets Pub

This N That And My Own Accident

No pictures, Blogger is playing games so words are taking long enough.

We got rain!!!!!!!!  Wonderful, life-giving rain.  I can already see the grass greening up.  Hope we get enough to get a good winter pasture started because we certainly will not have hay from here.

I was grateful when no one was hurt in the truck accident.  I am also grateful no one was hurt, well, not much, during the execution of my graceful accident last night.

As you have read I have been repairing and working in where it's cool...and yes, I'm keeping the chair.

I have also been painting on canvas.  My end product was strange and like no painting I've completed before. 

My plan was to paint two canvases for each side of our bed to balance with our matching lamps, chrome and glass side tables and a foo-foo lacy back drop.  Sounds horrible, right?  One canvas to represent me in some way and the other to represent Hubby.

My paint usually does better than it did this time.  It made me paint this horrible dark picture with a tornado, a cave, stormy skies, cascading water and some unidentified metal thing hovering over it all.  I puzzled over this.  I looked close and far away and still didn't really know WHY I had painted this.

Soooooo, I decided to hang it on the wall just to get the feel of it 'cause it sure wasn't feeling right on the easel.

I retrieve the drill, have a screw, screw it in, screw it out and then decide I'm not tall enough to get it right.  Here's where you can laugh and the accident begins.

I climb on the bed, can't quite reach the spot I need so I stretch my left toe to brace on the metal cross frame of the (stupid looking) cute little side table, you know, the one with glass. I hold the screw in place, start the drill and all hell breaks loose.  The glass breaks, the lamp drops to the second shelf, the painting flies through the air, I bounce off the wall and back to the bed and slide into the floor.  But, by golly, I'm still holding that drill!

I sit for a moment and think how stupid can some one be...use the right tools like a step ladder!  I notice blood, lots of glass, and my over turned table.  I'm angry at myself!  Now my tables don't match any more.

I go to the kitchen for the trash can, the broom and dust pan and a wet rag to clean up my bloody foot prints.  Picked up glass, set the lamp BESIDE the table, cleaned the floor and examined my filleted foot.  I discover I am grateful for the fillet.  It was about three inches long on the bottom of my foot.  If it had gone in instead of across the glass would have been completely through my foot.

So now, my next project is to repair the side table.  Oh, and the painting...I've decided I don't like it at all!

Rock Hollow Called Me...

So I listened.

Found a feather on the way

and placed it in my hair.

It was cloudy when I started.

All the way I prayed for rain.

I entered my favorite place and was saddened.  The tornado and the ice storms of years past have left damage.  No rains have fallen big enough to wash the debris away.  It's still my favorite place, just harder to navigate.  Rock Hollow carries the rain fall to the creek below and is home for many living things.  I kept my eye out for snakes with camera in hand.

The Poison Oak was healthy and the ferns still grew so there had to be some moisture deep in the ground.  On top it was dry.  I slipped in leaves, I clung to rocks, I crossed logs and climbed to my heart's content.

The farm trio found something interesting.

To give you some perspective,

the rocks here are huge.

Then I fell...

This is the view from where I lay.

I'm still enjoying the beauty

 but now my behind is hurting.

I thinking, Oh, no, I didn't tell anyone where I was going.  I want my ashes scattered here so I was happy to lie there for a minute or two letting my body tell me if it was okay.  I may not have gotten the rain I prayed for but a Higher Power was watching after me.  Above is where I fell...right in the spot that has no big rocks, plumped my behind right into the safe zone.  Guardian Angel or dumb luck?  You decide.  Oh, I'm okay, I'll be bruised but I'm not broken.

My little tumble was from here to there.

I was hot and rested.

Taking in the beauty of my favorite spot...

Rock Hollow.

These puppies were glad to be home.