Tuesday, December 19, 2006
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Sunny Thursday morning. I need to scurry to the barn. I have not yet fed the critters their morning rations. My head seems to have aquired the splitting brain ache that filled Jer's head. Such a beatiful day to waste being sick.
Wednesday, December 13, 2006
Jer seems better today. He was up sometime through the night, boring around (as Drew would say) 'Took it upon himself to ingest an ibuprophen; he just recently, last night with two parents pumping and prodding, realized he could swallow one of the little brown miracle pills. I think the combo of the high fever and the desire to get us to quit harrassing him was the primary reason he choked the pills down. Now pill monster has been born. I will have to threaten serious bodily harm to keep this beast under control. He is quite independent as it is. 'Seems to think he should make major life decisions all on his own. Like maybe, rearranging the living room furninture, or setting up his own play dates, inviting large families over for dinner without informining his parents, etc.
Though that musky barn spell is feeding my spirit with calming energy, I must head to the house and make sure Jer is not doing any more self medicating.
Two dear friends took the time yesterday to grab me out of the bad place I was headed and point my rebellious little woman--child head back to the cross, and my sweet saviour. I could expound but the need to head to the port a john is pressing in. Perhaps I will humble myself at a future time.
Should I or shouldn't I?
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Jer is one sick pup. A fever, runny nose, upset stomach, general malaise. I will call the DR tomorrow if he is not better. I hate if when my kids are sick. I feel so helpless. If I was a better prayer, maybe I would be more confident in God's healing power. But...I know better than that anyway. His healing, health, temperature, are not based on my abilty to pray well. God's grace is thankfully not based on us at all, our ability or lack of ability in any way.
I suppose I am preaching to myself here. I want my boy well. And, I sure do not my weaknesses to stand in the way of that. Maybe that is why we are supposed to talk to ourselves, not listen to our flesh fueled doubts. He lies here sleeping fittfully, half groaning. Please Lord, pour your healing mercies out on my baby boy. In Jesus name, let healing flow, let the fever come down. Jesus, take away the discomfort, ease his pain. Let your rivers flow.
It has always been easier for me to write almost anything than to speak it in words.
Time maybe for me to start stepping out and taking some baby steps in this area.
What do you think?
Oh Tory, where are you?
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Here I am. Just a'hang'ng out. Got a real pain in my back, coming from that bad place under my left shoulder blade.
I also have a tight spot in my lower right side. Funny thing is, I think I pulled something trying to put my chaps on yesterday. Oh yea...it is darn funny; so please do laugh. Last time I tried them on, the chaps, I had to have help. And there are pictures to document the harrowing ordeal it. Scary pictures.
So why would I ever try them on again, without losing twenty pounds? Heh, just dumb vanity I suppose. I do have a horsey friend though who showed me how I was putting them on wrong. Wrong enough it could maybe make a difference in how they fit. Or so I thought. Getting them on, around the waist, is not a problem; it is the zipping up the sides that can get challenging. The zipper runs from just below the hipbone all the way down past the toe of your boot. That is if you can get the zipper to the toe of your boots. My hips are the nearly insurmountable mountain. The zipper just seems to stop, snagged on some invisible blockage.
The pain in my lower back is I believe from bending over backwards while tugging furiously on a small strip of copper alloy. Adding to the trial was the tangled black fringe flopping unrestrained into the would-be path of my errant metal nemesis. The combination of my upper body twisting around nearly 250*, tremendous physical effort tugging and pulling, while attempting to keep the zipper path clutter free must have strained a muscle or two.
The chaps did end up zipped hip to toe, however I believe I had them hung a bit too low on the mountainous hips; there seems to be a fine line between resting firmly on the hips and just hanging on for dear life. Before to long they were sinking farther and farther down my leg. Yes, I did remove them but not before I strutted about in front of all equine friends. I am sure I gained their increased respect and a longing in each of their horsey hearts for that day soon when we will feel the brisk wind in our manes and the winter sun our backs. I am sure it was a collective covetous sigh I heard as I slipped around the corner to privately drop the drooping suede drawers. I am positive it was not muffled snorting.
What do you think?
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Well,I must get off to bed. Now, that I have opened the gate, perhaps I will contiue to push on and write again soon. Thanks Tori for the egg on.
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Old song here again. Now,,,just a few minutes I felt like writing. Only a few short minutes later I can hardly keep my eyes open. It seemed as if I were going to burst with unexpressed musing. My heart pounding and my thoughts racing. It seemed only natural that my page would quickly fill with the joys and dissapointments of this very hectic day. Oh well, At least maybe now I will be able to sleep.
Friday, October 20, 2006
We hear it all the time, "So sad they had their whole life ahead of them." truly though, are our lives our own? No, not if you believe in a creating God, by whose design we were all made, for His glory, for His pleasure, to work and to serve Him in all things. Nope, this life our ours is not ours. Just reading Larissa's entry in Ians Blog, brings it all into focus. "http://prayforian,com" "a new prayer"
If we view our lives from a human perspective, through secular eyes, through the eyes of the world, how can any mildly observant, moderately intelligent person believe that they have control over days and events of their own life. Each of us are only one raspy breath's moment from eternity. One slight error in judgment by the driver of a car, mine, yours, the guy from Cleveland; it doesn't matter. The lives we live are held together quite tenoulsly by a sinewy thread of cell tissue and brain matter. I have many more thoughts here, but my eyelids are getting heavy; for lack of an afternoon nap my consciousness is being drug me into the numb abyss. I will finish this ramble soon.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Today I used the circular saw. I wanted to be able to write, "Today I mastered the circular saw." Mastering the saw would be a bit of a streach. I did use the saw, a couple of times. Now, that in itself is quite a feat. The saw has been on the floor, where my workbench should be) for several months. My son Ben was working on a few projects for me a while back. He moved on to other things, the saw stayed. Old Circ has called my name a few times before, but today was the first day I got my girl on enough to pick it up off the floor, plug it in, and press the big spikey blade against a one by two or so, and squeezed the trigger. More than a few scraps cluttered the floor before I carved out the two chunks I needed to put together the lead rope hanger I was building. All went pretty darm well until the final screws needed to be driven in; something happened and the bit jammed. Drew arrived just in the nick of time. After some serious, "What in the He*% are you doing." He did drive in the last few screws, while commenting all the while how he was going to rip it down later and rebuild it better. My injured pride aside, the board was hung, the ropes were draped as planned, all because I over came the fear of the saw.
Of couse I was careful...with the saw. Well, Jay Leno is on cracking bad jokes so I think I am going to quit for now. I was glad to hear from my dear friend Emily Musser. Emily is one young woman who is very dear to me. She truly lives her calling and wears the mantle God has given her. I cannot wait to see where HE has her now.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Yep, 48 years young; at least that is how I feel...today. Today has been a pretty good day. Went to the barn this morning; communed with all my critters. The work can be a bit hard, and this morning the temperature read 23*. I had to layer up to keep warm, but after fifteen minutes or so the first layer got peeled off. Funny how quick you can heat up working.
Physical work is not something I have filled my life with prior to becoming a horse owner. Not that I did not shovel share of manure as a kid, we had ponies and cows, and goats. We had to work in the garden, do chores around the house.
After high school, and my first college drop-out I spent almost a year working for Royal China, a dish pottery in Ohio. The kilns used for baking the green ware were not too far from my work station so it was always very warm. Hot! My job was strenuous at times, lifting stacks of greenware I had stacked on a waist-high board to a shelf an arms length ahead and above. I guess I had forgotten how hard that was for eight hours at a time. But then I was quite young and the $3.10 we made on third shift seemed like a fortune. I said it was a while ago. Minimum wage was only $1.65 and I had worked for that for several years. The pottery sweat shop seemed like the dream job.
All that being said, the physical labor of the animal care seems to be therapeutic. Barn work brings that immediate gratification found when hard work's evidence is quickly demonstrated. The grateful munching and snorting of the horses is almost melodic. A horse will stick its nose down in the water bucket and quietly draw a long, long drink; except for Sonny who sounds like little kid blowing bubbles in the bath tub, or maybe in his chocolate milk. Now that is a funny sound. When he brings his dripping nose back up, he shakes his head, snorts and goes back to munching. Sitting, drinking a cup of coffee while the dogs, cats, and horses eat their morning fare is one of the most relaxing, peaceful moments of the day.
So this morning I went to the barn, all bundled up against the cold. Ice almost an inch thick sealed off the outside buckets and water dishes. The electric heated buckets are still on a shelf in the feed room, taking them down and using them means watching the electric bill soar. So for now I will chip away the ice until freezing temps become more regular and the ice fills the buckets instead of just skimming the surface.
I let the new horses out into the main pasture this morning. I figured it was time and they could celebrate my birthday with a little extra freedom. I celebrated with Drew up at the house sitting at the kitchen table; watching those two introduce themselves to Cool and Sonny kept me from the shower and made us late for church. Missing that preformance though would have lessened the joy of the day. The fearless chocolate pony quickly goes nose to nose with Cool who is never anxious to socialize with new folks. She snorts indifferntly, but does not back away from the show. Mr. Fearless sachets over to the cows and sniffs noses with the larger meaner one. Typically the cows are quite intimidated by the horses. Justifyably so, since Sonny thinks thier purpose in life is his entertainment. When he is bored tormenting his mom, or trying to get Cool's attention; Sonny's cow pony breeding surfaces and the shorter, rounder mooing pasture-mates are soon running in several directions at once.
Funny, I want to write about the joys of my birthday, today's smiles and chuckles, but I keep relaying more general details of my daily life. Maybe, that is what made today special, its ordinaryness. The difference is I think I paused a bit longer to enjoy and appreciate my life. Simple, physical, visceral in sound and smell, spirital, I did not even get to that. The fact that Jesus chose to be born in a barn is never far from my thoughts. It truely amazes me that the hay, the manure; that perfect perfume of warm horse flesh; all evidence of the common life the Creator chose this as his nursery. His first sounds, the incredible musical muching of large teeth on hay, contented snorting, a calf complaining impatiently for his morning grain, kittens mewing; a symphony of animal melodies providing the lulaby for the Child King. How blessed am I to daily sit in awe, listening to the same holy song.
Wow! and that was all before nine thirty this morning. He is so so good.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Did that wind blow today or what? Or what? Yea, it blew. Looking out the window the sun was shining and the day seemed filled with the promise of adventure. Janet, one of my horsey friends, and her kids were coming over...So as I dressed I was looking forward to introducing Janet's sons to our new "push-button" ponies.
Jer was already outside doing the barn chores, getting everyone fed and watered. For some unknown reason he forgot to clean the stalls; he claims he did not see the mountains of manure I had stacked just inside the doors of two stalls. He would have to almost climb over Zulu's poop pile to hay her. Guess he just missed it. The day did not dissapoint us in the adventure zone, but now alas, I am too darn sleepy to share the exciting details.
Friday, October 13, 2006
A horse of course (horse pictured w/Jer is Cool, not a new horse)
For those who do not have a horse of have had the joy of hanging out with them, have I got a story or two for you.
We recently added two new equines to our barn family. One, a short stubby guy; he looks sort of like a chocolate cake with a mane and a tail. The other a strawberry roan; I have always wanted a roan. He, Poco, is small enough to be considered a pony but large enough to haul Jer around at top speed. These two new guys, both geldings, are going to bring a lot of laughter to the farm. Buddy, the chocolate cake, loves to sit down on his haunches like a dog. Other horses might lie down in the warm sun, or jump up quickly after a luxurious roll in the mud or sand. Not this guy, He just sits there front legs up in front, rear legs...one under his bum and the other streached out to the side. Remember he is not much bigger than a large rotwiler so the comparison to a dog is not much of a stretch. The two of them are inseparable, waking, eating, just hanging out side by side, as if velcroed together. Except of course Poco does not do the sit like a dog thing. Sometimes Poco leads the way; this must irritate Buddy as he often nips the larger horse in the butt or flank. Almost as if he knows Buddy can't help himself with his impulsive orneriness, Poco just plods ahead ignoring the biting pony. Every once in a while Poco must get fed up, with the unsolicited nibbling, one of his short back legs will fly out to one side almost striking his little friend, most missing on purpose. The fake kick may be meant to remind the pesky pony that he is the bigger one, and could retaliate if he wanted.
Now I wanted to tell today's story about Cool turning on the light in her stall, yes, by her self. Stuck her head out the window in her stall door, streches it around and either her nose or long tongue swats the switch up; lights on! 'Bout scared me out of my wits, as I was closing up the barn and all was dark before she showed off her latest trick. Oh well, maybe tomorrow.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
I found this on my computer and thought it was kinda cool. It has been a bit since I had written it. Like finding buried treasure.
February 18, 2004
Leviticus 7: laws of the different of the different burnt offerings are discussed in this and the preceding chapter: the burnt offering, the grain offering, the sin offering, the trespass offering, and the peace offering. Each offering has its own purpose and set of accompanying rituals, spelled out meticulously by a meticulous God. Just reading quickly or even a thorough read-through will not give the insight needed to truly absorb such a visual, literal passage. Much is here in this primordial passage, and should not be overlooked by modern Bible students, as Old Testament rhetoric. Every word of His Word is as much for today as it was for the ancient ones. If the offering is not presented in the proper way, particularly with unclean hands, unclean processing, the one offering is to be banished, cut off from his people. God demands purity. We had a great high priest who has taken all sacrifices onto Himself. However, we must still approach His throne with clean hands and a pure heart. Never, will we be sinless until eternity yet; we must repent and keep from known and willful sin. We cannot expect blessing and answered prayers presented by lips that deceive, lie, or callously injure others.
Matthew 25: 14-46 This passage describes the parable of the talents. WE must use the gifts God has given us or suffer punishment and the possible removal of those gifts. We also read about the Âleast of theseÂ passage. Famous for the sheep and goats division where Jesus makes clear that service to the lowly and weak is a vital, imperative, requirement for his disciples. The disobeying, inconsiderate ÂgoatsÂ too are cast aside and told he never knew them. Sobering words. Should we ignore the cries of the needy, within our realm of advantage; we will be held accountable.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
ok, so it is not even a close parady of the old song. guess which song and you will show your age.
I wish I had started earlier to tell the current horse stories. suffice it to say, i rode cool today; she was better. jer got out the new pony and john shilling rode him bareback while jer led him back to the barn. see,now aren't you wondering about the new pony? we have two new additions to the stillwater barn community. i guess i will just have to wait until tomorrow to fill you all in on that adventure.
ok, again, the only you all here is my onw alter ego who reads this blog regularly.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Rode Cool today. It felt good. Not that the experience was without challenge. Seems like there is something irritating her back under the saddle. I cannot figure out what is causing it. I have moved the saddle, changed pads, loosened the saddle, and still after a ride she has a swollen spot on her backbone, about four or five inches below her withers.
I thought I would try a new headgear. Well, an old headgear. I have a western, cool-looking side-pull bridle. I had bought it for Sonny, but it was too small. I wondered if it would fit the sassy girl. I think it was a bit too large really. It seemed to fit in some ways but was uncomfortable around her mouth. So, changed back to the regular one I normally use. Thought I might get a bit more pressure and increase my level of influence. Maybe next time.
We rode for almost an hour and a half. She went back and forth between wanting to fly and not being able to drag herself out of a walk. But, overall it was an ok ride. When I got her back to the barn, she seemed to be sweating where Katie said she should be. I think the big thing is I just need to ride more regularly. I suppose I am a bit over cautious after taking that little toss into the air. Hesitation and fear are two big enemies of successful riding, and training. Cool has been working well of my legs and minimal rein pressure. Success? I guess.
Now as far as the rest of life. Ian...seems to be better. The threat of brain death has passed. Still many hurdles are ahead. Funny, when Ned and I were in Old Navy the other day, I kept seeing Ian-like clothes. I pray for the time when he is again strutting around in his easy self-confidence, sure of himself, but not arrogant. Pleased with his image, but only because he is comfortable in his own skin, and enjoys wearing it. Amazingly, his pretty face is nearly unscathed. I noticed that the other day, even his trademark hair casually lay behind him, almost waiting for him to run his fingers through it and toss it around. Jeremiah is remarked that both he and Ned seem to enjoy playing with their hair. Young ones, see things.
Ok, I am beat. Riding stiffens my bones, and I did not sleep much last night. My prayer would be that God would continue to build some kind of routine into my days. That I would be productive, and pursue my Savior more passionately.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
There will be not catchy title to today's scattered ramblings. A disconsorted explantion had been pecked out on the lost in the invisible cyber dump version. I guess I feel like I need to write, to record the current events of the week.
Saturday morning only a few miles from my home a horrific auto accident occured. So often we heard how most car accidents happen withing ten miles from our homes. In only a brief moment countless lives have been permantly affected; only a few miles from my home. The young man was further from home, from his home. He lives maybe twelve or fifteen miles from the scene. He still lives. Hours have passed since we were told he would enter eternity soon. Still he lives.
I hear a door close. Drew is home. Randy is coming with him, he too is here.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Monday..usually not the greatest day of the week. Yet, today was not so awful. I succeded in making a decent dinner, served a bit late, but still satisfied the hungry men.
Took Randy to the Dr.s, which made him very happy, happy that I took time out just for him. Randy is often dissappointed by his perceived lack of personal attention. So for me to go into town just to take him someplace, someplace he could have easily taken the bus, was a big deal. After his appointment I brought him out to the house. Randy did a few chores for $$ and I napped a bit.
I helped Jer with his homework which he finished before dinner for the first time ever. No tears were shed, not even any real whining or complaining. Randy had gotten him started and Jer just kept at it until he was finished. I had to rein him in a couple of times but for the most part he plodded along until all was complete. Victory for the school boy. God is good.
'Rode Cool twice today. Once before I went to town, if only for a few minutes. I had taken Drew a few sandwiches and a bottle of water. By the time I got back home I only had a short time before I had to leave again; this time to get Randy. And by the way, suprisingly, I was on time to pick him up. Another point for mom.
After tossing the meatloaf in the oven Jer, Randy, I led Cool up to the arena. She was a real good girl. Jer rode her for ten minutes or so. After that Randy rode; I was so blessed. She just went around the big oval like an old tail mare. As good as she was at a walk, she was a bit hesitant to pick up the pace for Randy. He had her at a Corto for a few paces but then she would get antsy or stay at a walk. After Randy rode I took my turn.
Tonight my horse gave me all I expect and more. True she is not ready for the trail, but as the sun sank in the western sky my girl Cool proved that the day is coming soon when her and I will scale the big hill across the road.
Monday, September 18, 2006
I gotta quit for now, I need to get a nap...Will finish story a little later
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Monday, September 11, 2006
Fifth anniversary of the September 11 tragedy; sure is hard to believe it has been five years. In five years how many lives are still scarred? Still waiting for “closure” to come? So often I hear about closure; how someone who has painfully lost a loved one or suffered some other significant trauma needs to find closure. I wish I knew where that was kept. I have lost both of my parent-in-laws, my mother, heard my twenty year old son diagnosed with MS, endured my own health issues, and lived in a love-challenged marriage for over twenty years. I am not so sure that closure exists. We continue to live our lives gingerly placing one foot in front of the next, one day at a time. Everyone who breaths air carries a basket of pain uniquely their own. If they have experienced God’s all compassionate grace, the burden will lighten and even be lifted. But the painful memories will still live on in a corner of their heart. Pain is what gives evidence of life, and as a result allows a person to experience joy, contentment, and love. Without pain’s power we have nothing to compare to life’s pleasures. Would closure eliminate that pain? Some pain has no explanation, no logical reasoning to elucidate its occurrence. Finding the killer of rapist or perpetrator of one’s assault may bring a chronological ending to painful event, but it will not eliminate the action or the actor. And hence not remove the painful wounds or scars. Does closure release a person to continue on living? I believe for that to happen a person must make an internal decision. We must choose to turn our eyes away from the pain, and to focus on God’s love; other loved ones who may need us desperately. If we can acknowledging the presence of heartache, realizing its power to propel us forward, and harness that power for our own betterment. Others will then also benefit from our experience and Glory will be give to a God who loves without condition and gives a peace that passes all understanding not as a replacement for pain, but as a healing balm, that allows us to endure all worldly afflictions until He takes us home to paradise.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Thursday, August 31, 2006
My friend died last night. Not one of my inner circle; someone I had hoped to at some point get to know better.
I remember reading in Guideposts a while back and article written by a woman who was struggling with an aging family matriarch not giving the her, a younger but mature daughter, mother, room at the holiday dinner stove. I forget most of the details; how she resolved the dilemma. Now, though I long to have her problem. My mother, my mother in-law are both gone, with the Lord. Having only one sister-in-law, there is just me to create "the holiday meal". Five sons, a husband, I have failed them; falling short of the creation of a festive, warm, family holiday season. Even thinking about it makes me tired, Then depressed. More tired. More depressed, since I am too tired t and depressed to feel like doing the holiday deed.
Still, my husband has stepped up and made some darn good holiday meals. The meals are good, but the holiday lacks the woman's touch. I whine, that I lost my mentors too early. Not just their teaching, leading, but our family table lacks the glory of the gray. The gray haired ones who have lived longer, laughed and cried more, hurt more and been hurt more. The table misses their rounding out.
I miss them.
Now, my friend's family has lost their matriarch, a woman not many years my senior.
Heartache descends upon a woman's spirit from many directions. I must step up and shoulder the mantle bequeathed upon me. Wear the honor I did not wish for. Jesus fills our lives with blessing, but He sometimes gives gifts we would like to return; gifts we may not want, but gifts He knows we need. Without a doubt what He has ordained is for our good, the good of those around us. For His Glory.
Friday, August 25, 2006
If I choose to look back on today, its happenings, and heartaches, which I think I will not, not look back on, that is; but if i chose to do that, I think might be saddened by the sublime and not so sublime jabs that were tossed about. Words that cannot be sucked back into the vocal cords, words that once spoken aloud take on a life and subjective truth all thier own, distinct in their interpretive meaning to the speaker, the spoken to, and the just happend to hear about. A day with no words, just silent wordless interaction; a day like that could turn out to be a sober relief to the illict and careless dagger-like utterings that slice and dice without reserve. Phrases and paragraphs slink about as jungle gorilla fighters. Fighters pose as innocent allies, yet their ammo when relased never misses its vulnerable mark.
Good thing I do not choose to look back on today. I might be saddened.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
I wish I knew how to put into words the deep resonating kind of satisfaction I have been experiencing lately. Seems like the horses, the chores involved in their care; the muscle streaching activity of riding and training, just fills me to the overflow with a sense of accomplishment. But it is more than that, it is if in a way I have come into my own, sounds like some sappy 60's song. I guess I "found" myself. Truely, I wasn't even looking for myself. I was pretty ok with were I was. How can dirt and sweat, and manure and mud give me an emotional buzz like I have not know.
Obviously, this is not bigger than my relationship with God, or deeper than my love for my family. At 47 years old though, it is good to be secure in a nitch, a new nitch at that; secure and content in a new adventure. Yup, I played in the dirt, and it was just alright.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Drizzling damp a little grey
shaggy blades misty green
patchy gooey brown bespeckles
the day dawns still and silent
dreary outdoors remains apart
warm fluorescent, soft white too
illuminate the inside
where living breaths
beating souls share trials, triumphs
out there time marked by
golden rays warm and drizzly gray
take turns counting days, and years
inside children laugh and grow
tears of joy and sorrow flow
mother's hand lets slowly go
her heart holds fast to scraps
crinkled scribbles, wilted weeds,
and memories of green and tweed
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Since I could read and write I have memories of writing. Recording little rhymes, childish scribbles, rambling observations, mournful regrets, and pityful poor-me's in more than a few now yellowed and battered spirals, journals, and stapled together scraps. Scraps, little snippets of here and there ponderings and muddled musings. Now I am tired, and can muddle no more.