Doing what I love...makes all the difference

I've spent the last couple weeks up at my shop, Burlap & Roses...trying to restyle every last inch of it and freshen it up a bit.  It's a daunting task...ask my mom.  She came and got the kitchen area all spruced up.  It's ready to go!  Thanks, Mom!


In between rain drops, I moved everything out of the garden shed, power washed what I could, spritzing and spraying everything else.  It's a garden shed...you'll have to forgive me if it's not completely pristine.  I've neglected this area for the last couple of years.  It'll be so much more put together this season.  I can't wait for my "guests" to visit.

Prior to this year, 2011, I had another full-time career in real estate.  It was fun and fulfilling for me until about the last 4 years.  I've been in real estate for 15 years.  I decided to get out of the business right around December 1, 2010 and have not looked back.  The difficulty is always in making the final decision.  For 4 years, it weighed on me.  Once that was done, I was free to move on with my life and get down to the business of living my bliss.  


When I had responsibilities to the buyers and sellers, I had the pleasure to work with, it seemed like I was always running from here to there, always watching the clock, the cell phone, email and such; stressed to the gills and worrying that someone wouldn't think I was paying enough attention to them and their needs.  I "knew" I was, but it was always a concern that I had.  


As I work at the shop or at home on various projects for Burlap & Roses, I still find myself "heading to check on" one thing or another.  Then, as if a continual weight is lifted from my shoulders, I remember that I don't have to do that anymore.  I relax and remember that I'm doing all that I have to do now.  Following my BLISS, I continue on!  


I get inspired by many, many things.  People, places and things.  Mostly, I get inspired by the beautiful pictures of compelling vignettes, artistry and creativity of others in home decor magazines and now through the many "friends" I have made on Facebook.  Inspiration is found in some of the most amazing places, and sometimes, in just the simplest thing~


Doing what I love has made all the difference in my life.  I invite you to share with me in my journey.

Revisiting a "vintage" thing...the Library

My latest read!

I just closed the book I've been reading...the last page~goodbye.  It was good... suspenseful, dangerous, but a love story...I'd say not my typical read.  

I checked the book out of the New Virginia Library.  We've been frequenting it here lately; tiring of the expense of buying books...of which I will still do for my own library.  I've often thought, through the years that I should go to the library for books, but just didn't do it.  I shall do it more often now.  

As a young girl, my mom would take us to the library all of the time.  I can still picture it in my mind.  I think it's still there...it should be!  If I remember correctly, it was rather new at that time.  It'd be considered "vintage" now.  But, "vintage" makes it even better in my mind.  There is just something about a library that makes it special to me.  Volumes and volumes of history, story telling, fact and fiction.  Rows and rows of shelving, standing end to end like soldiers.  

On my shelves

Many a class history paper was written after spending hours at the library looking at an encyclopedia...what an old fashion thing...even for me.  I love Google and use it often.  But, whenever I run across an old encyclopedia, atlas book or history in pictures book...I have to take a minute to touch it, feel it, even smell it.  I've purchased many. There.is.nothing.like.it.  

Just one of my bookshelves

I LOVE books~the reading of them, the look, the feel of them in my hand...even their scent.  Some are more comfortable than others.  Their size can be cumbersome or comfortable.  You can tell the age of a book just by it's scent.  The yellowing of the pages adds to the charm.  I've even started designing with them, the ones that have been forgotten, mistreated, damaged.  

I am a book and magazine junkie. I've tried to get my fix on the internet...but, it's just not the same.  I truly am sickened by the thought of a bookstore closing and how horrifying if a library would close.  This alone is reason enough for me to support my local library...both in reading and donating.  

I sat in the library at our high school a couple of months ago for a meeting and it felt so good to be there.  A place of peace and plenty for me as a young girl...I was taken back to my school days and the memories made there.  I don't know where my earliest love of books came from.  Maybe from being read a Little Golden Book as a wee one.  My youngest daughter found some of them at a resale shop a while ago...ones she remembers from her childhood and she bought them; for her niece and new little ones to come... maybe her own children some day.  

I find it so lovely that now, for baby showers, so much of the time, books are given in lieu of a card.  The giver writes a little note on the inside and signs it. What a terrific way to start a library for ones own.  The tradition and timeworn sensibility is continued for generations to come.  I can picture my grandchildren's chubby little hands holding them, bringing them to their mommy, daddy, grandpa or me for a little cuddle and reading time. I want them to love books...the reading of them, the look, the feel of them in their hand...even their scent. 

Lessons learned and new understandings...and I have FAITH

My cousin made a comment the other day on Facebook regarding her happiness and contentment in her life.  She finished the statement off with "Thank you, Lord!"  Yes, thank you Lord!

I responded with this, "The hard part is having Faith in Him when things aren't so rosy...but, Faith I do have and that gets me through the rough spots."  And, it does!  

At the end of last year, December 31, 2010, exactly; I took a leap of faith and put my real estate license into referral.  I've never looked back.  I applied for several jobs~now I have an understanding and empathy for the unemployed looking. See, a lesson learned and a new understanding.  I gave it a few weeks, then I had to make a decision.  I also believe that a job never came about because my heart and soul is with my shop and the expansion of it, developing the B&B and making better use of our farm in "today's" market.  

I've never been one to put my goals in writing and map out a plan to achieve them.  This has been no different!  I'm haphazard that way...but, I know my heart and I know where it leads me.  It's not on paper, but it's in my head.  I decided it was time to "follow my own advise" to so many others, "if you do what you love, what makes you tick, success will come!"  AND, I turn 50 this year, and I can't think of a better time or age to make a change!

My hubs and children have not been so "excited" about what I've done, wondering "what is she thinking," I'm sure.  It's not been the wisest thing financially, either.  However, let me stress here, I was in real estate...an independent contractor, and with that, no sales~no moola; so, having a steady and normal income is not something our household was used to.  And, real estate has been ODD at best the past few years.  I enjoyed much success in real estate...it just didn't hold my interest anymore.  As I said, I've not looked back.  

Now, what my hubs has witnessed is how things just come together and weave themselves in and out of our life.  One thing leads to another and things just take shape.  He said to me one day, "it is funny how things just seem to come together for you".  Oh, ye of little faith.  I live with gratitude in my heart, mind talks with God all the time...and Faith.

I'm reminded of this constantly.  As I said, leaving a career in real estate may not have been the best decision~OR, maybe it has been!  When the other stresses and demands on me are gone, I can get to the business of my LIFE.  The life I'm supposed to live...the life I have imagined.  

We also had an investment property that was draining us financially... Something had to go...and it did~we sold it!!!  I hope we never get to where we were again.  I like living a more "authentic" life, where less is more!  Lessons learned and new understandings.

We're strapped like we've never been before.  It's been fun, actually!  I shop wiser, we eat at home more, and my meals are planned with longevity and frugality in mind. We started getting books at the library, instead of purchasing them.  I put things back on the shelf that I otherwise would have purchased without a thought.  We got rid of the frivolity in our household...no home phone, we didn't use it anyway!  The Directv is out of our budget, too.  It's all been well and good.  I actually think I could live without t.v. completely.  I find I'm more active and look forward to creating, rather than watching a program.  It's really, really been good.  And, regular t.v. offers more than just a few channels now...who knew?  If anything, I have gotten "wiser" as to what I spend, where and when.  It's certainly been a time of adjustment...but like I said, it's been really, really good!

I'll sell something from the shop when I'm there working, a forgotten refund check will come; I say "NO" more, rather than "Yes" to everything.  And, I've put it out there.  I'm not ashamed or embarrassed.  I'm willing to sacrifice for the things I really want.  My life is more in balance and I'm happy and content!  

And, I have FAITH.  I always have had.  I've always felt that I had guidance and safety from the Man upstairs.  He's led me thus far and he'll lead me further.  With that said, if I fail, my Faith in Him will continue...it always has.  He's never forsaken me.  I.Have.Been.Tested.  There's always a lesson learned, a new understanding that one would never have had, if they had not walked down a certain path, taken a different turn or kept the monkeys on their back.  

Here's a funny thing...I'm finding dropped coins all the time.  Not just pennies, but nickels and dimes.  Each time I see one, I'm reminded that God does provide.  Sometimes I pick them up and sometimes I leave them, hoping someone who really needs them will find them.  It's just a gentle reminder to me...it inspires me!

"The hard part is having Faith in Him when things aren't so rosy...but, Faith I do have and that gets me through the rough spots."  Lessons learned and new understandings...and, I have FAITH!

How does it happen...

It never ceases to amaze me...mainly, because it seems these things only happen to me, but, today, when I went out to feed the calves there was one in the hay ring...on top of the remaining hay...how does this happen?  And, more importantly, does this stuff happen to other "farmers"? 


I completed my feeding chores, went to lift, move, tilt...whatever I could do to free this calf.  I lifted, it kinda kicked.  I moved to the other side, lifted, it kicked.  Hmmmm...what to do, what to do?  


Well, as I stood there pondering, the goofy thing went right through one of the openings.  You may be asking, "did it make it out that way?"  NO! NO! NO!  The head went through, the body...and then, it got stuck at the hips...really, the hips?  The calf must be higher at the hips, because it's certainly not wider!


Now what was I going to do?  I didn't have to ponder that too long, the calf took off with the thing hooked to it's hips.  Oh.my.gosh.  My worse fear is that one of them is going to be maimed or die while on my watch.  Was this going to be the first one?  


It took off, I stood there in disbelief.  It bucked, it shuffled, it bucked some more.  The other calves stood and watched...just like a few days ago; another story.  Low and behold, it bucked and shuffled and bucked it's way out of the thing.  And, non worse for the wear!  I shook my head, the other calve buddies moved toward him, as if to say, "whoa...you okay, dude?"  

Another story...another time; just know it had to do with a calf, a feed trough and me, standing their, shaking my head in disbelief.  Again, I ask, does this stuff just happen to me?

My gear after doing chores.  I can't wait for warmer temps.

A promised sleepover...an adventure

Kendall, left and Grace, third cousins, got to have a sleepover
at our house.  It was an adventure.

These two...well, they're quite a pair.  Third cousins, pretty darn good friends. Lots and lots of energy and creativity to match.  Whew...

It started a few years ago, when the girls were younger and here for Christmas or Easter.  They had a pretty darn good time playing and didn't really want to leave.  I told them I'd have them over sometime for a sleepover. Well, we just now got it accomplished. 

Both of the girls are rounding out their Kindergarten year.  Maybe this worked out to be the best time to have gotten this together.  Still cute and funny and enjoy most anything life brings to them.  Not too bossy, not too homesick, not too argumentative.  Yep, just about the right age to have the sleepover.  It was perfect timing, I'd have to say.

Both were giddy with excitement as the week turned into days, into mere hours of coming here.  Their moms shared their excitement through Facebook messages and the pressure was on for me to "have my act together".  They were expecting great things...oh, brother!

They arrived around two o'clock on Saturday afternoon...rip roaring and ready to go!  If only we could have gotten the moms to leave, the party could have started. They had their sleepover last fall...now, they needed to let the little girls have their fun!  Finally,(and I'm really only teasing) they left and we set out on our adventure. 

Arms full of glue, glitter, pretty papers, scissors and the like, we started on our first craft project.  It was most enjoyable.  They both have active imaginations and knew exactly what they wanted to do.  Neither had the need to copy the other, they just did what they wanted to do.  And, they did very well. 

About an hour into the crafting, my oldest, Courtney called and asked if we could be over around five to feed the bottle calf and play with the lambs.  No prob! 



Note the pink dress and jeans.

So, off we went to get the girls dressed for the farm. 
Note to Kendall's mom...bibs, boots and no white tennis (just had to remind her again).  What I came to realize is...Kendall's mom most likely doesn't stand a chance when it comes to her wardrobe.  Kendall is a girly-girl, no doubt, and likes...um, loves to wear dresses and tights.  Let me just share with you;  Girly-girl aside, that Kendall is up for most any action...she'll just be dressed to the nines. Gotta love that kid!

  

Grace is saying "been there,
done that, no big deal"



Grace on the other hand, she had all the gear and when she had it all on, she reminded me of a little GAP kid modeling the latest look.  Grace gets to visit her grandparents farm quite often, so our little side adventure wasn't as big a deal to her, as it was for Kendall.  She's no ninny and was up for anything and quite patient to let Kendall experience what she already knew.  Gotta love Gracie!

Once we were done visiting all the animals at Courtney's, we headed back over to our farm where there were more chores to do.  We jumped on the 4-wheeler and took off.  Chores done, now chow time.  The girls were famished.  Kendall joined me in the kitchen and Grace had a captive audience in Steve(he's hurt his back and horizontal most of the time).  Grace reminded me of myself.  She loves to play school, just as I did.  Steve made a great teacher and she, a great student. 

Kendall and I made homemade pizzas. Yummo! They turned out great. She was not a moving target, so I was able to get a photo of her. Grace on the other hand...this is like the third photo I tried to get of her and Steve...I gave up. 

Needless to say, bedtime couldn't come fast enough...for Steve and I, let alone the girls.  Kendall was ready for bed, poor Grace was too, except for her extra runny nose.  She meandered down to us for a bit...meanwhile, Kendall fell asleep.  Finally, we all were in bed and sleeping soundly...UNTIL the thunder and lightning started.  I was thinking to myself, they'll sleep right through it...yea, right! 

 

Sunday morning was mild, but soggy.  The girls played on the front porch in their pj's and winter coats.  I was able to sneak out and do the chores without them wanting to tag along.  When I finished, I came and got them and we went for a 4-wheeler ride.  The chrill of their screams...OMG!  A sound like no other.  All in all, they loved the ride...and I did, too!  They really are good eggs and silly little girls.

 

Unually warm, we made it down to the pond for the final hours of their stay.  They had a blast.  I usually am down there with my nephews.  And, I found that these little girls played just like the boys do.  Dig, dig and dig.  They wanted to fish...I said no.  They wanted to swim...I said no.  I told them we could do that this summer when they came for a sleepover again...

 

The moms came, we visited, they left.  I was in a vegetative state for most of the rest of the day.  A promised sleepover...an adventure equals a day of rest for two adults.  They wore us out.  Gotta love those girls!

While there...take in the views

It's funny (odd) to me that I don't enjoy my farm more.  Sometimes, days, weeks, months pass by, and I never venture out and take in the sights and views from our place.  One thing this getting up early and going to do the chores has done, is made me wander around and enjoy the views.  We have a magnificent one, I must say.  I'm also finding lots and lots of things that need to be done...but on this particular day, it was all about the views.

Busy filling the buckets with feed, throwing it out in the feedbunks and chatting it up with my "boys", I haven't really stopped and just taken it all in.  But, the other day I did, and looking out over the feed lot, to the south pond and beyond was so uplifting and refreshing.  I.must.do.often.

Early morning has always been my favorite and I've
just gotten out of the habit of getting up and getting my day started.  I haven't needed to be up and out the door at any given time on most days.  I'm working on changing that, though.  Trying to get my body clock back to the way it used to be.  I'm up early on most days, just not ready to go anywhere...I want to clarify that.

On that particular morning, about 8:30, this is the view from one vantage point on our farm.  It's lovely, don't you think...even in the dull, gray, quiet of the lingering winter  Wide open spaces and views for miles.  Ahhhhhhh!  My lungs filled with crisp, freshness.  My breath crystalized in mid~air.  There was an awakening to my senses.  An awakening in my soul; and I just breathed...

Gotta love the men in my life...

Here they are...all 61 of them.  Cute, aren't they?  We've been along just fine for the most part...however,  the mud and muck got a little overwhelming for me the other day.  Going from feed bunk to feed bunk proved to be quite a task, as it was like quick sand and my boots were getting stuck.  I fell!  Yes, in the mud and muck (aka poop). Luckily, not face first and only on my knees.  BUT, it scared the muck right out of me...I was up in no time, hollering at the calves to scare them off so as not to trample me.  They are hungry come feeding time with only one thing on their mind and nothing, not even me, the feeder of their food, would stand in their way.


After that, I decided something would have to change, so I called Tanner, my son, and asked him to come on the weekend and help me move the feed bunks around.  Remember, my hubby has hurt his back, so I'm the 'FARMER' in charge.  He said, YES! without hesitation.

I love the men in my life...I especially love the two legged ones.  These past few weeks have proven what a blessing they are to me...to us.  Our daughter, Courtney, married a farm-boy, too, and without Chad, I don't know what we would've done the day the calves came here.  Then, he graciously supplied us with a load of wood for our woodburner.  I love him.  He's my comedy relief, he's the keeper of my daughter, he's the keeper of us, when we need him.  I love him!

Tanner...he's my first love.  He's my one and only son and he's the best.  When he was a little guy and into his teen year's, I always got a sense that my hubby, his stepdad, was competition for him...in taking care of his mom.  After all, it was pretty much he, his sister and I for several years.  He was the "man of the house".  I've felt that again these past few weeks.  Not the competition, that's long subsided (I think) but that it was his role to take care of his mom.  He makes me want to cry...I love him so!  AND, he gave me my first grandchild...now, that takes the cake! 

One never really knows how they did raising kids until after they are grown.  I think to myself, as I sit here writing this, I did okay...his step dad and I did okay.

I'm a GLAMOUR fashion "don't"...chore time fashion

As I was putting on my clothes...(my getup) to go out and do the chores, I was quickly reminded of a time, quite a few years ago, when I wore another "getup" to my guests amazement. 

On the acreage we originally lived at, there were 9 cres in CRP and running right next to it were another 9 acres that my hubs had row cropped.  This made a perfect scenario for evaluating the effect of land being set aside for a period of time vs. land that had been worked for the same period.

On this particular day, a few employees from an agriculture business came out to prepare the ground and do their study. 

At that time, there was not a restaurant in town for them to go eat lunch, so I thought I would go out and invite them in to eat.  It was a hot, hot August day...and, my hay fever was in full swing.  Oftentimes, when it was really bad and I had to go outside, I'd wear a mask.  It helped tremendously, so I put it on, along with my shorts and rubber boots and headed out to do the inviting.  I fully intended to explain "why" I had the mask on, so they'd understand the reason for it.

For the study, the group had dug a six foot trench, and were down in it.  As I approached, I could see their heads bobbing up and down and unbeknownst to them, I was making my way out to them.  As I got closer, they could hear my boots squeak and squawk as I walked.  As I looked up, I realized they had, too, and I've often giggled over the looks on their faces.  What a sight I must have been.  A Glamour fashion "don't".  After making fun at my "look", they quickly accepted my lunch invitation; nice conversation ensued over lunch. 

As my photo shows, I don't have the regular "farm girl" gear.  I hate being confined in coveralls, my winter coats are too nice to wear out in slop.  AND, these days, I get way too hot, so, I dressed in whatever was at hand, that didn't matter if it got dirty, wasn't confining and was layered. Thus, the "getup" shown above. 

It's all about fashion...and this was another Glamour fashion "don't"  However, I'm perfectly clear on the fact that the cows don't care!

61 calves, a semi, a John Deere tractor and a super rainy, muddy day...let the fun begin!

Well, day one~first feeding down and all is well on the farm front. 

Steve, my hubs, hurt his back again(the first time was Jan. '07) and so, the past few weeks have been an adventure, again!  He went horizontal.  Not able to sit or stand for two weeks, right leg affected, a trip to the ER, with a two day stint in the hospital have been part of the ordeal.  He finally ruptured the disc, where before, it was just "bulging." Doing much better after an epidural in the back, he was finally able to go back to work, and all was well!

We normally get calves at the first of the year.  Not quite ready for them at that time, we knew it was getting a little late and now the back problem.  Well...we had to get them bought, so, the call went out to his buyer.  Our son came over and helped me finish getting the lot ready; our son-in-law said he'd come and help me, too. 

So, the call came in and the cows, 61 of them, would be delivered on Tuesday.  Perfect, (son-in-law Chad has Tuesdays off) ...except for it has been pretty warm, so the frost was coming out of the ground, topped off with a rainy, rainy day.  Hmmmm?  Would the semi be able to make it down the half mile lane to the lot?  THAT WAS THE QUESTION...THAT WAS THE PROBLEM.  NO! 

So, leave it to the John Deere tractor...it was able to pull the semi, loaded with the calves up the lane.  Okay, that worked...until it got stuck again.  Back up, hook on, didn't work!  Back up, unhook, re-hook, unhook...finally, unstuck!  Too much messing around for me...

Meanwhile, the rain came down, the mud went up, Steve did too much, I got after him, the son-in-law finally explained "why" to the trucker.  I don't know if he was worried about the guy thinking Steve was being coddled too much, or if the guy would think I was being far too bossy (can't imagine that) whatever it was, I was worrying about the same thing, so I'm glad he told him what the deal was.  Except, he said "mother" is worried about him hurting his back, he has back problems, which then made me say, "I'm not his mother, I'm his wife".   Didn't want him to think I was THAT old, or, that I was pulling the Charlie Sheen card and the boys were my "gods". There was laughter...at least it explained what was going on, to my relief...and Steve's. 

61 calves, a semi, a John Deere tractor and a super rainy, muddy day...let the fun begin...

Hands...I've always had a fascination with hands.

Hands...I've always had a fascination with hands.  As an adult, I look at my hands and those of my family and I sometimes see the "genetics" of it all.  Who do my hands look like?  My cousin Tony has hands like my uncle's, who has hands like my Grandpa Herb's, his dad.  My Aunt Dorothy's hands remind me of my Grandma Grace's; her mom.  I see that my Aunt Elaine's girls hands look like hers, but hers don't look so much like Grandma Grace's; I sometimes think my hands look like my mom's, but I also think they look like my dad's side of the family.  They inspire me!

Even as a little girl, the crooked fingers of my Great Grandma Heifner and worm-like veins on my Great Grandma Breton's hands were imprinted in my mind.



Grandpa Herb and his mother,
Grandma Heifner

Gnarled and bent to the side, arthritis had Grandma Heifner's hands in it's grip.  At one time straight and feminine, just like she was.  At her death, small and delicate, just like she was.  I was much younger when Grandma Heifner passed away, so I don't remember allot about her everyday comings and goings.  She seemed old to me, even then, BUT, I do remember her hands.



Grandma Breton with
 Gr. Granddaughter Courtney



Grandma Breton's hands were narrow and long, encased with skin as delicate as an onions.  Made transparent in the aging process, it didn't take much to bump and bruise.  Even as her eyesight left her, she was able to crochet~her hands knew what to do...by memory.  It was her hands that traced my youngest daughter, Mackenzy's face as a newborn.  She said she'd be frugal because her nose was small. She could not see then.  I remember her hands.

Their hands, at one time, were strong and capable.  Many a household task was performed with them.  A spanking~here and there, surely met their palm. Cookie dough rolled out, a piece of butterscotch candy put in a grandchild's hand. 

I don't know if either played the piano or any other instrument; sang or were masters at anything, really. But, I'm confident that a nose was wiped, a tear swept away, and hundreds of meals were prepared.  A helping hand was lent, a finger lashing now and again.

A garden planted, fruits and veggies picked and put up for another day.  A baby's back patted, diaper's changed, clothes hung on the line, finger puppets games played.  And, we can't forget a hug and a pat on the back.  

Crooked fingers and worm-like veins were imprinted in my mind.  And, as I sit here, writing this, I'm trying to remember if I knew their hands any other way; and, I don't think I do.

Hands...I've always had a fascination with hands.  They inspire me!

The Cardinal's visit

A crimson red cardinal is a sight to see.  They are beautiful.  They feel like royalty to me.  If there were to be a king and queen of the bird species, to me, it'd be the cardinal. 

I enjoy seeing the many birds that come and go from our birdfeeders on a daily basis.  They are just cute to watch and make me happy.  I can count on one hand the times a cardinal has been seen by me at the feeders...anywhere, actually. 

The very few times I've seen one up close and personal have been times that have been unsettling for me.  I find that very interesting.  I've spoken and written before of the two cardinals that showed up right after my Aunt Kay's funeral.  I was sitting on my front porch, with my husband, and two cardinals (my aunt's favorites) perched on a bush just over the rail by my arm, sat for just a few minutes, as if telling me, "all will be okay."  Then they flew off.  I found comfort in that.

Today is one of those days.  Life just seems to be out of balance for me right now.  I'm unsettled, a bit nervous and simply put, "out of sorts".  I've been here before, as most of us have been.  I'm ready to shake this feeling, though.  Need to shake this feeling.

As I sat down on my comfy couch, pondering the same things over and over, coffee in hand, I looked out my window and there sat a beautiful crimson cardinal.  All will be okay...all will be okay.  It almost brought tears to my eyes. 

It's amazing what seeing that little red bird did for me.  Hope.  I love that word.  I think it's very powerful and if a person doesn't have it, life can be challenging.  I think Hope helps us to survive the unsettling times, the nervous and stressful times.  Without hope, we have nothing. 

This crimson cardinal made me see again, the hope for my future.  It put a little bounce in my step and got a different thought process going for me.  Don't we all need that at times? 

I pray often.  Sometimes it's just me having a little talk with God.  I always feel his presence...always.  But, today...the past few days, I've needed a bit more, and I fully believe, God new that, and sent me the cardinal...

A crimson red cardinal paid me a visit today.  It was telling me all would be okay.

Lunching with my First bestie

Cousin Linda, Debbie & me/Lake Ahquabi

For as far back as I can remember, my cousin, Debbie, was in my life.  Not just as my cousin, but as my bestie!  I really can't think of too many times that an event for either of us was not shared. 

Of course, the daily ying and yang of life occurred away from each other, but, the monumental events:  Christmas, Easter, birthdays, stay overs, and even some vacations and such, included each other.

On a whim, I called and asked her to lunch yesterday, after seeing on Facebook, that she was on vacation from work.  I'm so glad I did.  Even today, our lives are intertwined and we continue to share some of the same events life has to offer. 

As little girls, we played little girl games.  We stayed over at Grandma's house together, stayed up all night playing games, giggling and in our teens, making calls to teen lines.  I witnessed her driving the mini bike into the fence and she stood up with me getting married(the 1st time).  I think we fell off Lucky, the pony together and were teased incessantly by our uncle Jack and Jerry.  I think Debbie was tormented by "bugs" and me, I screamed "icky acky"as I was placed in amongst a pasture of horse manure. 

Debbie's parents belonged to a camping group and I was often invited to go along on these camping events.  These were some of the best times of my childhood.  Teen dances...man, what a treat!  The venue would be crowded with 13, 14, 15 year olds.  Dancing 'til we couldn't dance no more...or, maybe the music stopped.  I can't really remember.  All I remember is that is was FUN!

During this same time frame, Debbie would come and stay overnight.  Time and again.  And, time and again, it seemed something strange would happen.  Ummmm, for instance, we were awakened by lights flashing and cops knocking at our door when our car was stolen, tornadoes hit, a man was found in our ditch passed.  She thought of herself as a "jinx".  It was very strange.

One Easter she spent the night with us.  We were up after the Easter Bunny made an appearance.  I can remember we were playing some game on the kitchen floor and one of us saw an Easter Egg that had been hidden.  Well, we started looking and finding and of course, eating them. 

We had our children together.  I babysat for her and her for me.  We shared the deaths of our grandparents and an aunt together.  Although our lives somewhat went their separate ways, I know my love for her never did!  I knew I'd always be there for her if she needed it and her me.  Yesterday was just one of those days.  She didn't really know it, but I'm glad it worked out.  I needed a little "cousin time."  Being one to believe that things work out the way the are supposed to, I found that, once again, the stars aligned again for me when I needed it.

After all, who else shares the same stories as you do.  The same order or understanding of events; a timeline that curves and sways in and out of life's moments together, more than a family member.  For me, it was my cousin, Debbie.  We entertained at the Polk County home with my church...we STILL can do the motions to Put Your Hand in the Hand of the Man Who Stills the Waters, Deep and Wide and others.  And, let me tell you, it's not beyond us to step into those motions and song with even a mention of those times.  Christmas Pageants...memorizing our verses.  Selling "goods" to raise money to go to church camp. 

As we hit our fifties together...one before the other, but I won't mention details, we found ourselves still in sync with each other.  Yesterday's topics:  menopause and grandchildren.  We have gracefully moved into the next phase of our lives.  It's a most interesting time for sure. 

There are many other moments, events, ups and downs.  I'll save them in my memory bank and bring them out at another time. 

For now, for as far back as I can remember, my cousin, Debbie, was in my life. Not just as my cousin, but as my bestie! I really can't think of too many times that an event for either of us was not shared...

The Humbling Years

The humbling years...yes, I think my forties will be considered MY humbling years.  As I enter into my 50th year of living on this earth, I say good-bye to my forties.  Although I've always been one to feel that each obstacle, stumble, heartache, smile, laugh, and triumph are all part of my life's story, I think I shall be happy that my forties are over.  Not literally, but figuratively speaking. 

Ever since I can remember, I've had a feeling that I would not make it past my forties.  As I was reminded one day, when I made this declaration to some co-workers, a gal piped up and said, "well, you still have a year to go".  We laughed, but I was taken aback by her remark.  It was made as a joke...I think?!?!  But, I have thought on that quite often, and, as I normally do, wonder how many times I've made a remark not meaning to hurt anyone...that would not be in my nature, but just being misunderstood.  With that said, it's important, I think, to choose your words carefully and how those words are presented.  One of the biggest lessons for me is that I'm quite often misunderstood and I'm always alarmed when I've found out I've hurt someone and not even realized it.  Whooo...that has been a biggie! 

My forties, I've been personally tested in my family relationships.  I've been taken to task with things I've said or how I've said them.  I've learned the real meaning of family, and of course, friends.  I've realized it's okay to let go of relationships that are not healthy and I've realized that to have a friend you have to be a friend. 

Have I learned and grown through these years...YES!  Mostly, I've learned that I have a voice, that my feelings are real and should not be poo-pooed away.  I've learned that standing up for myself is where it's at, because no one is going to do it for you.  And, I've even learned that sometimes relationships aren't whole...and not because of me, but because of something in the other person.  One time, my son gently reminded me that a particular situation was not "about me".  He was absolutely correct.  I don't have to be responsible for everyone and their happiness or struggles.  Right then and there I made the conscious
decision that I can't take the blame for or hold the bag for every situation that occurs around me.  I don't have to fix everything. 

I'm more sensitive than I realized and that others won't know they've hurt me if I don't tell them.  And, I've realized that if they've hurt me, but aren't really on my radar of relationships I need to uphold, then it really doesn't matter.  AND, I've learned that others may have, and most assuredly do have, those same realities about me, too, and that's okay. 

I've always had a fondness for the past...cherish the stories shared through the generations.  But, this past 10 years and most definitely the past 5, I have a whole new eagerness to learn and get acquainted with my ancestors.  The who and where's.  I'm almost hungry for it.  One of my favorite quotes that shares space on a photo frame chalkboard is this:  "It is not that I belong to the past, but that the past belongs to me."  I have no idea who the author is, but it resounds within me.  I am my past and it me. 

The past...at one time, it may have been considered that I was running from it.  Not any more and certainly not for a long, long time.  I like who I am and where I came from.  My story, however crazy, happy, humbling it is, is mine to tell.  Have I told it well so far?  Will my children rise up and call me blessed?  As I said, my forties have been my humbling years.  I have far to go and I've already been walking for miles...

Maybe, my fear that I would die in my forties, is fact...not literally, but figuratively.  Will I take the lessons of the past and use them to enhance my future?  Will I continue to make the same mistakes...I sure hope not.  Will my path lead me to continue what's been right and good in my life?  I sure hope so. They certainly have a place in my reflections.  One can only move forward, righting wrongs, saying the I'm sorries, showing forgiveness and trying to be a blessing to others...in simple, ordinary, but quite possible life altering ways.

I think, the BIGGEST and most IMPORTANT thing for me, in the midst of all my ups and downs, struggles and triumphs, I've been reacquainted with ME...who I really am and what's been right all along in my life.  Sometimes, the perceived realities in our life can take hold and begin to "form" us.  In my case, I felt like they were suffocating me.  Then, at one of my class reunions a few years ago, one of my classmates said to me, "You were always the nicest girl that came over from Norwoodville"  Hmmm...I knew I wasn't the most popular, smartest, prettiest or athletic, but, someone thought I was the "nicest".  Now really, what's so bad about that?  That one comment reminded of a past relationship I had with someone and a comment she said to me.  She accused me of being "too nice."  How can one be too nice?  TOO NICE, Really?

So, as I round out my forties and head straight into my 50th year...I think I shall continue to be nice, I think that's a great thing to be called.  I will reflect on the trials, tests and tribulations of my past, just to be reminded of who I really am and want to be.  A nice person who cares about her family, friends, acquaintances and community at large.  To carry with me that "kindness should not be mistaken for weakness" and to make this world...mine and yours, a little better place to be.  And INSPIRE you to do the same.  Ahhhh, the humbling years.

Grandma made sure...

It's Christmas time and my thoughts return, once again, to my Grandma Grace.  She was very special to not only me, but to my whole family.  We were loved and accepted...no holds barred.  Her love was unconditional and you most definately felt loved and wanted and I'm pretty darn sure I'm not the only grandchild who felt this.  And, I'd be surprised if her own children or extended family didn't feel this same way.

Grandma has been gone for 21 years and to this day, I head to the phone to call and tell her about something that has happened.  I stop short of the phone and remember.  I miss her every day of my life.

When my birthday comes around, it's her card I long to find in the mailbox.  Always appreciative of the other cards I receive, quite frankly, non compare.  Please don't get me wrong...it's just that my Grandma was just that special to me and continues to be so to this day.

She was blessed with 7 children and many grandchildren. If my memory serves me correctly, at her death, she had 26 grandchildren.  There were several added and now, the greats and great-greats have been added.  She would have loved that!

I mention this because, at this time of year...Christmas, she never once left anyone out of a gift.  AND, to this day, although I'm appreciative of the gifts I receive, and the givers, non means as much to me as hers did.  It's her gift that I miss receiving to this day.

Now, her gifts were not over-the-top, expensive or one-of-a-kind gems.  No, hers were simple, everyday useful things.  Maybe a pair of gloves, socks, underpants.  Actually, now that I think about it, I don't really recall what we did get.  So, you see, the gifts were not the kind worthy of antiquity.  No, hers were symbolic of the joy of giving and making sure everyone had "something" to open...her never ending way of making sure we were all included and accepted.  LOVED!

A few times, I know others had to pinch hit for her.  I got to step in a couple of times myself.  It was pure joy to get to do this!  Socks for the boys...I remember socks for the boys.  For some reason, this is what I remember.  And, everything was wrapped as well.

One of the traditions that she had was each of the grandkids (at least us older ones) got a pair of red flannel pajamas or nightgown on our 2nd Christmas.  She made them herself.  This was one tradition I wanted to incorporate into my gift giving, but, I've fallen from "Grace" on that one.  AND, I only have one grandchild.  Mind you, she had several
grandchildren... boom, boom, boom.  A very prolific family.

She was a special lady to many.  Family first, neighbors and friends.  We were loved and accepted...no holds barred.  Her love was unconditional and you most definately felt loved and wanted.  I can only hope to be half of the grandmother she was to me. 

The Doe and cat...a mystery

One of the best things about living in the country is the splendor of watching wildlife up close and personal.  If one were to linger awhile and take in the view, they'd be surprised at just how much wildlife there is in our own backyards. 

If we can't see them, we surely can hear them!  On schedule, coyote's begin their chatter...one to the other.  Are they close or are they near?  At times, one cannot tell for sure. 

Much quieter and more polite, deer are grace on four legs.  I love to watch the deer.  Blessed with the opportunity to view them frequently from our home, they are amazing (inside a fence, of course) to see jumping, ever so swiftly, gently.

On one particular morning, I got to witness the most surprising and lovely thing.  Peering out a window from my bedroom, I noticed a doe walking along the fence line, which had a distinct path from our calves travels earlier this year.  The doe seemed quite apprehensive as she wondered down the trail.  Looking here and there, I wondered what she was looking for.  Not really acting like she wanted to jump the fence, she walked along back and forth.  Hearing but not seeing...

Eventually, out from the grass-lined fence came a black cat (I hope this didn't bring bad luck to the doe).  They looked at each other, then the cat scampered away.  Now, this is the most interesting part.  The doe followed the cat.  Keeping 10 steps behind, the doe continued to follow the cat into a patch of taller grass.  Of course, the cat was hidden, and the doe just paused, kept an eye on the moving grass and then followed along. 

It was the sweetest, yet most unbelievable thing taking place.  As I went about my business, I stopped again to peer out the window.  The doe was still there...looking around nervously.  The grass was not moving.  Where did the cat go?  I stood and watched for a bit longer.  A mystery to not only me, but the doe, as well.  She continued to look from one place to the other.  She seemed at a loss...where did her little friend go?

After awhile, the doe gave up and walked away.  I wonder what made her follow the cat?  I've not seen either since.  It was a lovely sight to see.  A most enjoyable way to while away some time.  A delightful memory to bring out every now again. 

The doe and cat...a mystery.

What Price Freedom...

Today is Veteran's Day.  A day that is celebrated every year on November 11th.  A few year's ago I wrote a piece titled, What Price Freedom.  I'm sharing it again today.

What price freedom?  For most of us, we don't pay a price at all~it's here for the taking!  For the mere pleasure of living a life of freedom of choice, freedom of voice, freedom to live in a peaceful society, freedom to have an education, go to the church choose, support the causes we cherish, the freedom to send our children off to school...knowing that they'll come home.  There is so much we take for granted!  More took for granted than what is appreciated.  I mean really, really appreciated!  At what cost do we have our FREEDOM?  AND, more importantly, whose paid the debt for us?

My thoughts, in the quiet moments of the day, turn to the families who've paid the price for our freedom.  Those whose sons, daughters, husbands and wives, mommies and daddies, nieces and nephews, sisters and brothers, have paid the price...their lives.  As with most things, until something happens "closer to home" one never will have a true understanding of a situation.  And, unless it directly happens to "us", one does not get the full impact of the devastation.  Of course, we can empathize with the family, we can mourn with them, but we never, ever will understand their loss.

*at the time I wrote the original, the following was pertinent at that time.  A few weeks ago, three service men from Iowa lost their lives.  They were not in combat. They were, however, doing what they do every day, every week, every month...to make sure that we~America, are in the ready for any disaster that may occur...that may put our FREEDOM and safety in harms way.  One was a nephew of my son-in-law.  One of our own.  The fact that I was able to put a face with a name and name with a family I know, broke my heart and brought me to tears.  I saw first hand the price they paid...for my FREEDOM and YOURS!  "Brandon" had entered the armed forces post 9-11.  He most assuredly knew he'd be defending our country...and he did.  He served in Iraq for approximately 8 months.  He came home, but passed away during military training at Fort Bragg.

Whether we agree, disagree or are indifferent to the conflict that the United States is involved with today; the ones we've been involved with in the past and will surely be committed to in the future, the mere fact that we can have a view and can voice it, is reason enough for me to honor and praise our young men and women for their commitment to our country.  the defending of it, the willingness to fight for it...for you and me.  With the knowledge that ultimately it could be a cost them and the family loves them so.  Today, in America, they don't have to do it.  They choose to do this.  In many countries, it's still mandatory to give a certain amount of time to the military.

November 11th is designated Veteran's Day.  A day to honor and remember those who have given of themselves to their country and the freedom's we all enjoy.  What can we do to show our appreciation?  I leave that up to you individually to decide.  Maybe you'll do nothing, maybe a note will be sent, maybe a prayer will go out.  We all hear stories from those who served in Nam, Korea and maybe even the World Wars.  How can we honor and acknowledge each of them?  Those involved in the earlier conflicts were enlisted.  The fact that service to our country is "voluntary" today is probably due, in part, to the causes these men and women fought for.

Again I ask...what price freedom?  Well, freedom isn't really free at all, is it?  To those who have served, are serving, thank you.  It's because of you that I can drive or walk down the road and not fear a bullet.  My daughter can attend school along with my son.  I can work a job that I enjoy and make a decent living.  I can go to the church I choose, believe or not believe what I want, spend or save my money how I see fit, feed my family, help those around me and not be persecuted.  I can dress how I like.  I can walk with my head held high and my face uncovered...or covered, if that's what I choose.  I have a say in my household, elect whom I want and so much more.  Do we really have an understanding of what our FREEDOM is all about?  I leave you with that thought. 

And this folks, is the view from my front porch.

It was my kind of day

It was joyous, refreshing, relaxing, contemplative...an absolute delight!  That's right...yesterday was my kind of day!  The temps were comfortable and prime for baking and cooking.   I had a great nights sleep, so upon waking, I had the energy of my earlier years.  Sometimes these days, that's not the case.  Without going into detail...suffice it to say "I'm mid-lifing it!" 


So, with an abundance of energy, clear thoughts and focus, I started the morning off my making banana muffins.  The bananas...they, too, were prime for baking.  Yummo!  I've had my favorite recipe for years. It's simple, but good.  Muffins are one of my favs to bake and are always nice to have on hand for a quick snack. 


That done, I was off to the next thing.  Using the last bit of roast leftover from last week's meal(s), I chopped, sliced and opened a few cans.  Dumping all into a pot, I let it simmer all morning long.  I must say, it was delish! 


Here's my recipe:  leftover roast, cooked to perfection, chopped or shredded into bite size pieces.  One
X-large can of tomato juice.  Three tablespoons of beef broth granules.  Fresh onion chopped.  One can each:  carrots, green beans, corn...whatever you have on hand; liquid and all.  Frozen peas(or canned).  Four potatoes (red) peeled and chopped to bite size pieces.  One bag of shredded cabbage.  Simmer, simmer, simmer.  Serve with a variety of breads.  I must say...another YUMMO!  and, leftovers, too.

Good and hearty.  My meal was complete with a large glass of milk. 


As my day continued...I was on a baking craze, I pulled out the pie crusts I had in the fridge.  Now, my intention earlier this fall was to make apple pies.  Our trees were ladden with them.  But, time got away from me, I was sick for a few days...one thing led to another and they didn't get made.  But, I was determined to get something made.  For interest, I decided to use what I had on hand...which actually, turned out to not be as much as I first thought.  However, I was determined.  Six pies later, I ended up with:  one cherry, one blackberry, two oatmeal and two pecan (with oatmeal).  Oh, and the pecan...I ran out of Karo syrup, too, so I added some honey to complete that requirement.  They turned out beautifully.  With that said, I prefer all Karo and all pecans in the pecan pie.  I'm a purist that way, I guess!

So, my day ended with a hearty bowl of homemade soup, dessert of pie and one very happy  hubby...he's a dessert kind of guy and unfortunately, I'm really not. So having dessert readily on hand is not on my radar. Now, to find freezer space for all the goodies.  I'm bound and determined to have these around for awhile and not eaten in a matter of days.  We'll see how that goes. 

It was joyous, refreshing, relaxing, contemplative...an absolute delight!  That's right...yesterday was my kind of day!  And this folks, is the view from my front porch.

Don't Hog Your Journey...



My cousins, lil sis and me, circa 1968...
we're each a part of the others journey



"Don't hog your journey, it's not just for you." As I was listening to the Today show while working, Hoda Kotb was sharing a story. While on a plane, she was visiting with the gentleman sitting beside her. Chit-chatting away, she had mentioned she had had breast cancer. She asked him not to think of that if he ever thought of her in the future. He turned to her and said, "Don't hog your journey, it's not just for you." I kept thinking of that statement and have decided that I agree with it. What if no one ever shared their story~their journey...good or bad. My world would certainly not be as rich and full as it is now. I would not know of another's happiness, adventures, struggles. I would not be who I am today without knowing of another's journey.

Hoda's story is great, and deep, and more than just her breast cancer...for sure! We are all more than just one part. We are, shall we say, the sum of all our parts. I am a woman, a mother, a wife, a daughter an entrepreneur...the list goes on and on. But, it's the sum of all of these things that makes me who I am today. I enjoy sharing my journey...it gives me great pleasure and I hope it adds to your journey, too.


The other day, I stopped by the "Music in the Park" event held at the city park in town. In amongst the music...which was very enjoyable, I heard someone get up and give a testimonial. I wonder, did his journey make a difference to someone else in the crowd. It did mine and I'm sure another's. Then I have to think...what if he didn't share his "journey"? What if he kept it to himself...I would not have known the depth of his story...his courage in sharing it. It has stuck with me...and, it removed me from my cares and woes and opened my mind, my heart, to another's struggles and triumphs.


Life is a Journey, isn't it? Sometimes we're on a mountain, sometimes we're in a valley. Most of the time, I'd guess we're just motating along on the plaines. Enjoying life, taking one day at a time, doing what needs to be done and just cruising along. To me, it's the mountains and valleys that we grow the most. We are pushed to our limit, only to find our limit can be pushed. We read something or hear of someone else's journey and we gain strength from it. We realize we're not alone. Somehow, we come out on the other side because of it...but don't necassarily understand where it came from. What if no one shared their journey? Who would be a better, stronger, wiser person because of your journey? Maybe your journey is told by your actions. How you reach out to your community members, volunteering, donating, a struggle overcome. Our journey's are shared in many different ways. The key is that it's shared.


"Don't hog your journey, it's not just for you." I would not be who I am today without knowing of another's journey. And this folks, is the view from my front porch.


Beth Voltmer lives on a farm in rural New Virginia