….on a hot, hot, hot summer day, what could feel better than a run through the sprinkler?

Both of these youngsters, Wyatt (2 1/2) and Chip (7) thought it was the perfect idea. But Wyatt doesn’t call it a sprinkler…this budding little farmer calls it the “irrigator.”

Back inside, the farm theme continued as tractors seemed to be the toy of choice today. Wonder why??

When we had a little tickle-fest and the outcome was a case of hiccups for this very verbal young lad, he said, “Mimi, I have the hookups.” Needless to say, this Mimi cracked up.

Mimi got to Wyattsit because Mommy had a meeting after work today. After naptime, we turned on some music and Wyatt demonstrated some of his newest dance moves. This little boy loves to groove, with the Wiggles being his very favorite group. But equally requested are some of Laurie Berkner’s songs, especially “Victor Vito.” As a matter of fact, this is one of Mimi’s favorites, too. For those of you who are not “up” on current musical trends among the toddler set,  my advice is to get Laurie’s CD….it’s good for kids of all ages! Our seven-year-old Emma’s favorite is “Fruit Salad Salsa,” two-year-old Lucy loves “Bottle Caps,” and we all adore a sweet lullaby called “Moon, Moon, Moon.” I sometimes sing these in my sleep.

It’s such a nice diversion to sing and dance with a little one for a while. In real day-to-day life, we’ve had the sure-nuf dog days of summer to deal with this week, but we’re hoping for relief soon. In the meantime, the “real” irrigator is running fulltime on the new Bermudagrass field, trying to boost growth for a third cutting of hay. Hurry, September!

….I’m rejoicing for this very special, sweet blessing.

This dear little angel has found a new home with our cousins, Leslie and Debbie McPhearson. After more than a year of wrangling with paperwork and details and officials, Les and Debbie are in Ava’s home country in Central America, preparing to bring her back with them next week. My heart soars to think of their excitement and happiness at finally seeing this long-held dream fulfilled!

Debbie is my husband’s first cousin, but she feels like my niece. When we were first married, Debbie and her two sisters were little girls. A few short years later, we moved to Mississippi and lived only two hours from their Birmingham home, and the bond between us grew. The girls’ mother, Mary Lou, and I became dear friends, and Melanie, Debbie and Sherry were adored by our children. It was a privilege to watch all three of them grow into beautiful, talented young women with fine husbands and families of their own.

Debbie and Les are sending their daughter off to college in a few short weeks, and their son starts high school at the same time. Now, they’ll also be helping three-year-old Ava adjust to a new country, a new family, a new language and a new home. I salute their courage and determination to have seen this journey through, and I’ll continue to pray that the transition is smooth and the joy unbounded as this new little one adds another happy dimension to their lives. God bless them, each and every one!

….I’ve been thinking.

Sometimes I get so tired of thinking. My mind is seemingly never still, even when I’m sleeping. I often wish that my brain had an “on/off” switch, so that I could simply turn it off sometimes. The thinking, thinking, thinking is sometimes not a good thing for me, because I have a good memory and it often haunts me. But lately I’ve been trying to handle thoughts in a positive way. When I find myself thinking about things that are upsetting or negative, I try to make a conscious effort to replace them with the things we’re supposed to think about….you know, the “whatsoever” things.

So… earlier today, I was driving into town on an errand for my husband. Back home, my kitchen counters were covered with tomatoes waiting to be made into salsa, and there was an overflowing bucket of green beans, as well. The dryer had just buzzed that the sheets were ready to be put back on the bed, the kitchen floor was begging to be mopped (once the vegetables were taken care of), and flower beds needed a drink. And my hair was a mess! I sure didn’t want to go to town and be seen. So as I was driving, I was thinking of how irritated I was to have to leave my important work and run the errand.

Flash! The “whatsoever” exercise came to mind, (old dogs really can learn new tricks if they practice hard enough!) and I deliberately put my irritation aside. “What to think on?” thought I. I looked down at the speedometer and realized I was over the speed limit, so I put the brakes on, punched the cruise control, and thought, “If this is all I have to worry about, I really don’t know what worry is.” I didn’t have to worry about having enough money to buy gas to put into the truck before I headed to town. I just had to worry about holding the truck under the speed limit. I was reminded of the fact that, although I have wanted many things, I really have not known true want in my life. Right then, I thanked the Lord for taking care of my needs and for allowing such an abundance of material blessings into my life.

Then I thought about a book I recently read called One Thousand Splendid Suns, about the plight of women in Afghanistan. The disturbing yet compelling story made me realize that, compared to the lives of the women in that country, my life is a complete bed of roses, smack dab in the lap of luxury, right in the middle of the land of milk and honey. Right then, as I drove down the highway, I thanked God for the privilege of being an American woman in the 21st century, for the freedom that we enjoy to live our lives as we choose. And I thanked Him for a husband who cares about me, who would never abuse or hurt me, who appreciates the things I do to help him. And I wondered why I was ever irritated about having to give up a teensy little hour of my precious time to run an errand for him!

Then I thought about an article I saw earlier this week in the newspaper about the plight of women in some war-ravaged countries in Africa. The atrocities they experience are beyond my comprehension, and the thought of what they suffer is almost unbearable. The headline said, “Rape doesn’t describe it,” and the article made the point, with graphic descriptions of things done to women. It is so easy to not think about those things, but that doesn’t make them go away. And right then I asked God to help me never take for granted the life I have, the privileges I enjoy and the heaped-up blessings that have come my way.

By then, I had tears in my eyes that probably made it unsafe to drive, so I had to put aside the intense thoughts and, going back to that thought of not having to worry about buying gasoline, I decided to make a list of 10 things that I am really thankful for today. Here’s my list, some of it based on these things I’ve just mentioned. It’s not a complete, comprehensive list and it’s NOT in order of importance; it is what I’ve thought about today:

1. I’ve never known want, true want, in my life. I’ve had everything I ever needed and much, much more. Thank you, Lord!

2. I’ve never worried about my husband leaving me or physically hurting me. When we married 37 ½ years ago, it was a lifetime commitment that we made. There’ve been troubles and hard times, but the idea of splitting up never came up. It just never was an option. Thank you, Lord, for the solidity of our imperfect but happy marriage!

3. My children have been a blessing to me. Thank you, Lord, for all three of them! One is a tremendous challenge, and I often feel that I’ve failed him, but there is one thing I know about even him: he knows You. Thank you, Lord, for the promises in your word concerning our children.

4. I’ve been richly blessed with good health and a sound body. My aches and pains and minor illnesses have been just that: minor. And complaining about a mind that won’t turn off? Good grief! Thank you, Lord, for my good mind, that I can reason and learn and understand.

5. I’ve been able to stay at home, to be a real homemaker and not have to leave every day to go off to work. I know how to work and I do work….hard!….and I’m thankful for the things I can do. If it became necessary, I am confident that I could get a job and earn a paycheck, but thank you, Lord, that I’ve been able to be a homemaker and mother and housewife first. I’ve never been ashamed to be simply that.

6. I live in a beautiful place that is a daily blessing to me. Thank you, Lord, for putting me in this place where I can see trees, clean water, hills, wildlife, wildflowers….all the things I love so much. I don’t have to just imagine them; I enjoy them every day! Again, thank you, Lord!

7. My extended family has been such a blessing to me always. My grandparents taught me so much and have been so important in my life. And blessings upon blessings, I got to know and enjoy my husband’s grandparents! Thank you, Lord, for our grandparents, and help me to be that kind of Mimi to Emma, Wyatt and Lucy.

8. When we moved back to Missouri, I missed my Mississippi friends so much. I prayed for You to send someone my way, Lord, and in Your time, you answered over and over again! Even now, twenty years later, You’re still doing it….sending new friends my way! How exquisite it is to make a new friend when I’m 55! This is really icing on the cake, Lord. And you know I love sweets!

9. Thank you, Lord, that I like to do things. I love my hobbies of sewing, knitting, gardening, reading, writing, and I’m so grateful to be able to pursue them. There’s never a single minute, ever, that there isn’t something I want to do. I can’t imagine a life of not wanting to do something creative or stimulating. I remember a little sampler I made once that perfectly describes me:

“I pray that, risen from the dead, before the throne I’ll stand,

A crown perhaps upon my head, but a needle in my hand.”

Lord, can I help make robes or something?

10. And last, but NOT least, thank you, Lord, for my faith. Sometimes it is weak and sometimes it doesn’t get fed, but that’s my fault. I can’t imagine life without it. Lord, give me a stronger and stronger faith.

This seems like a long rambling post, but today it needs to be written, for me, if not for anyone else. If you’ve taken the time to read it, I hope it strikes a chord. Have a happy weekend! (Dear Lord, thank you for weekends!)

…life is full of blessings…and challenges.

Last week we enjoyed having our daughter, Sarah, and her little girls, 7-year-old Emma and almost-2-year-old Lucinda, visiting on the farm. Sarah has always loved to be busy and had several things she wanted to do while home. We went to the nearby creek nearly every afternoon after Lucy’s mid-day nap, so that the girls (and Mimi) could play in the water. Chip enjoyed going with us, as he is very much the water dog.

(Emma and Lucy in Bryant Creek)

On Wednesday, Sam, our son-in-law, drove down to join us on a canoe trip (we call it a float trip). Our stream is crystal clear and cold and the surroundings are simply heavenly. Lucy stayed with our neighbor, but we decided that a seven-year-old in a life jacket was old enough to float, so Emma went along and enjoyed the whole day. We picnicked on the creekbank and stopped often to swim. Stan caught a few fish in the rapids, no keepers but nice little bass and perch. We had the creek to ourselves, with only herons and kingfishers and a multitude of other birds to keep us company, as well as the occasional deer. I wished, time and again, that I had gotten a waterproof disposable camera…but alas, I didn’t, so we don’t have pictures of the day…just good memories.

Saturday was lake day. We went over to our little place on Bull Shoals and took out a pontoon. Susannah, Derek and Wyatt came, too, as did our niece and her new husband. And Sam’s sister, Buzz, also came down from Kansas City and was with us. I stayed with the little ones for their naps, so no one got cranky or too tired…but we all slept well that night. A whole day on the water makes you feel like your bed is floating…floating….rocking you to sleep.

(Poppy and Emma on Tex)

There was a birthday bash for great-grandma, with yummy steaks, fresh garden vegetables and homemade ice cream and birthday cake, and horseback rides and four-wheeler rides and bike rides and green-bean picking in the garden and a cookout in the barn with Sarah’s high school buddy and her three little girls….all in all, a busy but fun week.

(Above, Lucy, Wyatt and Emma)

All, that is, except for the call that came at 10:30 Thursday night, waking us just as we fell asleep. The message was grim: the big hay barn was on fire, fully engulfed! Nine hundred big round bales, representing two months of hard work, up in smoke in a matter of a few hours! Four rural fire departments responded, but there was nothing to be done except keep it from spreading. Hundreds of people stopped to offer to help and to watch as if in a trance….such a big fire! And it’s still smoldering today, but almost through. The state fire marshall came and determined there was no evidence of arson, so now we’re dealing with our insurance people. Thankfully, it was insured!

And all, that is, except for the afternoon we spent in the emergency room with my mother-in-law. She has been having heart problems and was scheduled to receive a pacemaker tomorrow…but TODAY decided against it! I’m praying she has made the right decision, and I’m praying she’ll be better now…maybe it was mostly anxiety from the adjustment to widowhood and the aloneness that she hates. I’m praying she’ll come to terms with that and be able to find contentment and peace.

And all, that is, except for the phone call from a dear friend whose son was nearly killed in a boating accident on Sunday. This young man had a very close call and is in ICU on a respirator, with an injured lung and shoulder. If the boat had hit his head, he wouldn’t be here now. God just wasn’t through with Trey, yet….his mama told me that, and it must be true. One of his companions had fire-fighting training and knew CPR….pulled him from the bottom of the murky river where he was taking in water and sinking and did mouth-to-mouth and saved his life. I’m praying he’ll be okay and will not take his young life for granted, ever again, after this harrowing experience.

Life is just like last week. It’s full of good and bad things, rejoicing and grieving, full of laughter and tears, heartache and happiness, helplessness and hope. And at the end of it, I’m so thankful for all of it….that the lost hay was “just hay,” that my mother-in-law is feeling a tiny bit better, that our young friend’s prognosis looks better each day….and that we have precious little ones in our midst who keep us laughing and having fun!

(My mom, Sarah, me, Stan, his mom, Susannah and Wyatt, with Emma and Lucy in front….the sons-in-law didn’t get in this shot)

Now can I take a nap????

….I really haven’t had time to write this week. It’s been business as usual on the Diamond T, with cattle work continuing as first priority, followed closely by hay making. I kept our little grandson, Wyatt, for two days. He has had a virus and didn’t need to expose the other two little ones at the baby-sitter’s, so Mimi got to substitute. And I took my mother-in-law to the doctor two other days. She is dealing with heart issues, and we’ve been assigned a cardiologist, after she spent four days in the hospital last week. So my Monday list has few items crossed off this week…but that’s okay. What’s left will just move to next week.

On Wednesday, while I was keeping Wyatt, we were reading books and getting ready for naptime. I cuddled him close, kissed him and told him, “You’re just the sweetest little boy I know!” This little 28-month-old fellow looked up at me and said very earnestly, “Mimi, I not a boy, I a man!”

On the one day I was at home this week, I spent some time in my sewing room, working on a table runner for my mother. I usually don’t get much sewing or quilting done in the summer months because there is just too much outside work to be done. But Mother’s birthday was last Saturday, and I knew she had been wanting a runner, so I just got in and made it. Now I’ve got to quilt it and bind it….and maybe by fall, she’ll get her completed table runner.

Above is a picture of my sewing table, with pegboard loaded with sewing notions on the right. And below is my old mail sorter, which is stocked with fat quarters. The little black sewing machine on the top is the one my grandmother gave me when I was 8 years old. She helped me make an apron on it that summer while she was visiting us.

We’re looking forward to a visit in a week from Sarah and her two little girls, Emma and Lucinda. We’ll spend some time at the lake, go to the creek, ride the horses, visit the great-grandmas, and do whatever they want. I’m planning to do lots of cooking ahead of time so I can just enjoy. And I’ll be taking lots of pictures of the little girls while they’re here and will soon be able to post some new ones of them!

Did you notice in my profile pic that I have a bit of a grimace on my face? I’m trying to smile, but it doesn’t come across too gracefully….looks a bit like I’ve got something unpleasant in there. Truth is, I do….invisalign braces. Twenty years ago, when Susannah was 7 and got braces, I also went through the process…for three years, I was a metal-mouth. I’ve been faithful to wear my retainers at night, but these darn teeth have got a mind of their own. They are determined to show me they can move at will. When the dentist suggested the invisaligns, I decided to try them, to preserve all the effort of 20 years ago. I’d forgotten how sore one’s mouth can be! Now that I’m on my second set, it’s getting easier, but talking is with a bit of a lisp, and I’m back to serious teeth-brushing again (every time I eat.) I’ve never been the sort to “do a lot” to myself, have never colored my hair or spent lots of money on makeup. But for some reason, I hated having my teeth look so bad. So here I go again….pardon me while I go floss….

…it’s time to work cattle.

It’s not quite 6 a.m. and though the sun is peeking over the eastern horizon, the moon has another three hours of duty before it can “call it a night.” The air is nice and cool this morning, and it’s good to have an early start.

The horses know the drill; for the last three weeks, there have been cattle to work almost every day. When June started, they were a bit out of shape and soft, but the daily routine has them fit as a fiddle and ready to ride. Derek, our son-in-law, saddles them and ties them up while the other guys get the gates set. 

This isn’t the prairie and these aren’t wide-open plains, but the pastures are large and we use horses the same way western cowboys did, to gather up herds of cattle and bring them into the corral to be worked.

That’s Ernie on Bud, Stan on his trusty Tex, Phillip on my Lucky, and Derek on Bandit. We use quarter horses. There’s no way we could run this ranch without the help of brothers Ernie and Phillip. Phillip has been with us since he graduated from high school more than 25 years ago, and Ernie has been here more than 15 years. Derek, our son-in-law, came on board in March and seems to love the ranch.                                                                                                                                                                               

My job this morning (after making coffee and breakfast and packing lunches for Derek and Stan) was to handle the gate. Because the herd had to be moved across a county road, the men wired gates together to keep the livestock from heading down the road when they came through the gate. (Can you see the orange gates behind the cattle below?) But since people live on the road, I stood by the gate to let them through…but no one came, thankfully. Then, when the cattle were almost to the crossing I ran down to the other side and turned them, keeping them from heading down that way. It takes a lot of talent to be the cattle turner!

Calves that were born last fall are weaned and sorted into groups according to size; smaller ones will be fed a while and the bigger ones will be sold right away. There has been a lot of good grass this spring, so most of the calves have gained well. Each of the remaining animals goes through the chute and its head is caught in a headgate, which allows the men to do whatever needs to be done. The baby bulls among the calves born earlier this spring get to experience the unpleasant sensation of being turned into steers. The young calves all receive vaccine to protect them from several diseases, and they will return to the pasture with their mamas until late fall. Everything gets a dose of wormer, which is in a liquid form and is squirted down along the back. The mama cows are preg-checked if they aren’t obviously nursing a calf, and if they haven’t bred back, they are culled to be sold. (There’s no place on a ranch for an unproductive cow!)

Our cattle are divided into herds that fit the size of the pasture where they are placed; the herds range from 50 to 200 cows, depending on the acreage available. Some days the men will finish by shortly after noon, and when working the larger herds, it’ll take all day. Because they are gathered into a corral which can be tightly packed, it’s important to monitor the situation and not let them become too hot; heat can be deadly to livestock. After all the cattle have been worked, the ones that have been sorted off are trucked to other locations. The horses are brought back to their pasture by our house where they are brushed and fed. They usually go straight to a dusty place and roll in that as soon as the saddles are off. The vaccines go back into the fridge at headquarters, and syringes are washed up, and the rest of the day’s chores are done. By the time the sun sets, we’re ready for bed, usually able to fall asleep quickly… 5 a.m. will be here again before we know it!

What will be your legacy when you are gone from this life? Will your heirs wind up with your curly hair, your blue eyes or your short legs? Will you pass to them the tendency to have high blood pressure or diabetes or glaucoma? Will they inherit your musical ability or your dexterity in handling tools? Will you leave them your grandmother’s special cut-glass bowl or your great-grandfather’s pocket watch? Will you leave them a fortune or a debt?

While it is not possible to completely control all the things that are passed from one generation to the next (freckles, sticky-out ears and flat feet), there is another aspect to this legacy business that you can definitely control. And that’s the part I want to talk about. To start, I must first tell a little story.

In 1986, I was working for Dr. Pat Gill and his wife, Mary Nell, in their medical office in Macon, Mississippi. Dr. Gill was a family doctor and a family friend to us. When they needed some extra office help, it seemed like something I could do, to earn a little extra money and to learn something, too. The clinic was small, with only one nurse and two lab technicians who also helped Dr. Gill with patients and did all the x-rays, blood work, etc. Mary Nell handled the office and I helped her.

It was a great job! The Gills just naturally made everyone part of their large, extended family. The setting was casual and comfortable, and they made it easy for me to learn. I can’t think of a happier work setting than that office.

Mary Nell had grown up in Macon and her parents still lived on the small farm where her father had grown up. Mr. Spence and Mrs. Alice Guy were old-fashioned and sweet and were often in the office, either to see the doctor or to just visit Pat and Mary Nell.

One sultry, summer morning in August, Mrs. Alice popped in and invited all of us to come out to the farm for dinner, just as if we were all her children. (The noon meal was still dinner to her; the Guys ate supper at night.) Dr. Gill began smiling in a big way, and everyone’s mood suddenly became very light…I knew I was in for a treat!

As soon as Dr. Gill finished seeing the morning patients (and I was instructed to not take any names after 12:00, as we so often did), we put the “closed” sign on the door, and Diane, Cindy, Debbie and I loaded up and drove out toward Mashulaville to the Guys’ farm. Dr. Gill and Mary Nell followed in their car.

The house was as old-fashioned as could be, with high ceilings and wide doors. It was truly southern, with a wide center hallway and big open doors at both front and back; screen doors kept flies, bees and critters at bay. There was no air conditioning, but it wasn’t hot in the house. The hall acted as a breezeway, and the high ceiling accommodated the warm air comfortably. There was an old-fashioned parlor at one side in front, and the dining room was opposite. The kitchen was behind the dining room. Mrs. Alice had it smelling really good, with mostly vegetables from their sizable garden for dinner. I can’t remember the meat, but I do remember new potatoes, butter beans AND field peas, (both!), squash, cole slaw, sliced tomatoes, biscuits dripping with butter, and if there was any room for dessert, Mrs. Alice had a bowl of fresh peaches, sliced and sweetened, served with her special tea cakes.

Tea cakes are almost like sugar cookies but not quite the same. Every good southern cook makes tea cakes frequently, often keeping a cookie jar on the counter filled with them. There is much debate among cooks about the quantities of eggs, sugar, extract and the other simple ingredients. I just know I never met a tea cake I didn’t like!

When we finished eating, we walked around the yard, looking at Mrs. Alice’s day lilies, crepe myrtle, and other late summer flowers. The surprise lilies were springing up everywhere. Everything was kind of overgrown, but it was wonderful! The bees were buzzing and the muggy air was heavy with the fragrance of the honeysuckle that claims everything in its path in Mississippi. It would have been the perfect time for a nap, if we hadn’t needed to go back to work.

Before we left, I asked Mrs. Alice if she still played the old pump organ in the parlor. Of course she complied, accompanying Mary Nell who sang a lovely song out of the well-worn hymnal on the stand. All the Guy girls are musical like their mother (part of her special legacy!) but Mary Nell is especially gifted.

We went back to work, all talking about how we’d enjoyed that special time with the Guys. A couple of days later, Mrs. Alice came by the office and I asked for her tea cake recipe. She wrote it for me on a pad given to us by a pharmaceutical sales rep, one of many stacked by my desk. Later I had to call her and ask her about the flour, for she had forgotten to write that down. And seven-year-old Susannah helped make the scrap of paper a real treasure by writing Mrs. Guy’s name on it…you can see it there now.

Fast forward more than 20 years to today. I was wondering what to cook this morning. It’s a hot, muggy summer day, perfect for iced tea and porch sitting, and it made me think of Mrs. Alice and her breeze-cooled kitchen, smelling of country vegetables cooking on the stove and tea cakes fresh from the oven. Sounds like just the menu for today!

I can still hear Mr. Spence saying grace and see Mrs. Alice pumping on the old organ, laughing (always laughing!) and showing us around her yard. Mrs. Alice did not know that she was giving me a gift that summer day in 1986. She simply took the time to fix a good, home cooked meal and shared it with me and the others there. But for me it is a memory that I’ll always treasure, far better than any material gift. It was her legacy to me.

What kind of legacy are you creating for others to inherit? It does not take a lot of money or unusual talent to pass on something that will be valued for a lifetime. Mostly it takes time and the willingness to share something of yourself. Your may pass on your arthritis or your dark complexion, but be sure to think about those other things. Mostly, give the gift of your self, as Mrs. Alice gave us that day.

….Mimi had a fun day babysitting Wyatt!

This is one busy little boy, let me tell you! He turned two in March, but since he started walking at 8 months, he has hardly slowed down. Along with his active nature, he has a sunny disposition….which also means he loves to be outside in the sunshine. We spent most of the day outside, playing with Chip…

…..and chasing Mimi’s chickens. Above, he is trying to catch  Hi-Step, the little banty rooster. But even busy little boys get tired…. and have to go inside for a nap sometimes. For 3 1/2 hours, he slept! You can imagine how I spent that time…cleaning up the kitchen, doing laundry, sorting the mail and cooking supper.

It was happy, happy times when Mommy got here at 7, for she had been gone since last Thursday. She, Aunt Sarah and Aunt Buzz, along with three other girlfriends, went to Portland, OR, to run in the Helvetia Half-Marathon. It was a great time for sisters to spend together, away from babies, husbands and all the cares of everyday life. They all survived the run, spent a couple of nights in a beach house at Seaside, ate crab, saw the wonderful rose garden and made some happy memories together.

And Mimi, Poppy and Wyatt made some memories, too…wish we could keep those curls forever!

….it’s SUCH a busy time! There is WORK everywhere, and everything needs to be done yesterday. There is hay to cut, rake, ted, bale and haul into the barn for stacking. There are silos to fill with haylage. There are cattle on every hillside with big calves that need to be weaned, and they all need to be worked (given wormer, shots, etc.) There’s a new field of bermuda that needs to be sprayed. Sprouts are growing thick and fast in every pasture and need to be brushhogged. The men are putting in 12-hour days, trying to accomplish all these tasks.

I’m just the go-fer around this place. It’s not really WORK, but it’s what I am asked to do. I shuttle people between fields and barns and equipment. I run to town for baler twine and horse feed. I meet the equipment dealer who is delivering the new haybine and pay him (a huge price, I must say! This check would buy LOTS of pretty fabric or yarn…but who has time to think about quilting or knitting?) I carry my husband’s lunch to the field when he calls and says he can’t stop long enough to come to the house to eat. I even climb on a small tractor and spend a few hours tedding the hay when no one else can get free to do it.

How do I keep from getting overwhelmed? Well, truthfully, sometimes I do. But then I take a deep breath and think, “It’s only this season that is so busy. This, too, shall pass!” And I remember to take a look around me.

This morning I went to check out a pasture where we thought a gate might have been left open. As I drove along the dirt road, the orange blossoms of the butterfly weeds demanded to be noticed.

That pretty little butterfly couldn’t help but notice! He’s happily WORKING at getting his morning drink.

This old cabin could testify to the fact that, regardless of how busy we are and how we choose to spend our days, one thing does not change: time marches on.

It was probably a young man who cut these logs and used them to build a home for his family. He and his bride might have raised 10 or 12 children in this one-room affair. Don’t you know that these young parents were busy, too? They didn’t have fine tractors with which to break the ground, or mechanized cutters to condition hay as it was mown. There weren’t any chemicals to handle the weeds, only a hoe and someone to operate it. I hope they had lots of boys to help with the work, because work was WORK back then!

As I came back down the dirt lane, I saw one of my favorite sights–a scissor-tail flycatcher sitting on the barb-wire fence. These beautiful birds have only begun to come into the Ozarks. If you’re an Oklahoman, you know they are your state bird. But we’re not quite used to them yet, and when I see one I still get very excited. So glad I had my camera along!

They won’t let me get close, so I’m thankful for a zoom lens. Wish you could see them take off–it’s a lovely sight, as they scissor their tails to get aloft. It requires some effort on their part…they have to WORK at it, but the reward is a soaring, swooping, dipping flight across a flower-strewn meadow.

One of the boys of summer was taking a break from his paying job….he has a lot of girlfriends and I can imagine that they get pretty demanding. He has to WORK hard to keep them satisfied. 

Do any of you grow roses? I’ve tried and failed. I’ve WORKED at it…planted and sprayed and fertilized…and watched them suffer and die. I’ve given up on the tame kind and choose to simply enjoy the wild ones. And really, what could be more beautiful? The weathered, broken old rocks make the perfect backdrop for the varied pink shades of the flowers.

Now that my WORKing trip down a country road is over, guess I’d better get back to WORK…painting my new screen door for the breezeway.

Don’t y’all WORK too hard!

   ….I had to take Stan’s lunch to the field. He was chopping haylage, working hard to get ahead of the rain that is predicted for tonight and tomorrow. So, how did it take 2 hours for me to make a 30-minute trip? I made one simple mistake…I took my camera with me. There it sat, on the kitchen counter, just begging to go along, so how could I resist?

So off I hurried, to a part of the farm that is about 8 miles from where we live. I found my hungry husband, handed over his food and headed back down the dusty county road. At home there was dirty laundry, floors to be swept and a garden in great need of weeding. But that camera on the seat of the truck beside me had other ideas.

At the end of the county road, I stopped to take a quick shot of the old Brixey store. Until last fall, when the postmistress unexpectedly passed away, this old structure had served the community as country store and post office for ever and ever. The lighter-looking spot above the porch is where an official red, white and blue sign proclaimed, “Brixey, Missouri 65618.” But the passing of the postmistress also signaled the passing of Brixey, as well. The postal service decided to close the post office out, relegating it to history. This place resonates with memories for scores of folks who remember when the country stores were busy places of commerce.

By now, I have decided to take the ‘scenic route’ home. It’s just too beautiful a day to not explore some of my favorite places. (Above,the Lower Brixey schoolhouse is another decaying landmark. My mother-in-law attended 8 grades here and then taught for several years as a young woman.)

A beautiful bluff marks a bend in Spring Creek.

An angler brings in a Rainbow Trout.

Rockbridge, Missouri, was the first county seat of Ozark County. Now it is privately owned and is a trout fishing resort. But the beauty that drew early settlers to the place is still evident. The old grist mill, above, is a proud reminder of the days when pioneers would line up for their turn to have corn or wheat ground. My husband’s great-grandfather was one of those early ones; my mother-in-law remembers her father going to the mill when she was a girl, about 70 years ago.

This special place is the only one I’ve found where wild azaleas grow in our area. It’s a steep hillside, literally covered in these beautiful plants. This year, the late freeze curtailed their blooms for this year, but today I found two plants, each with a single bloom. Can you see the delicate pink?

The prettiest little butterfly was happily working on this daisy patch along the roadside.

My roundabout trip home brought me by the little church and cemetery where my father-in-law was buried last February. What a sweet and special place this is! This cemetery dates back to the 1880s; some fieldstones mark graves of Native Americans who were some of the first buried here. My husband’s great-great-grandparents are also buried here. I love to wander around, looking at the names and dates and admiring the unusual grave markers.

There are several like this one, crafted of native stones and inset with granite name plates.

This stone is quite elaborate, at least for this cemetery. Dr. Haynes died in 1890; “he was loved in life and lamented in death.”

The decaying cupola on this old barn speaks of more prosperous times, although Ozarks settlers were seldom very prosperous. It was hard to make a living in these rough hills, but people worked hard and persevered and built solid homesteads. I wish this barn could have been saved. I love old barns!

So I’ll finish with one last old barn. This one is just down the road from my house and belongs to my good friend, Marie. It has been the subject of many paintings and photographs through the years but looks as if it may be beginning to sink into the ground. It’s so hard and expensive to maintain old buildings that inevitably they come to the end of their road. And I’ve finally come to the end of mine, too….hope you enjoyed going along with me.