Latest Musings

East and West Meet in Colorado

After a quick trip west to Colorado Springs today, for a friend’s birthday party, I started home, full of plans to arrive before evening and get a few remaining trees and perennials nestled into the ground.

The first Emergency Broadcast warning signal hit radio waves before I arrived at party – for the southeastern portion of the state.

Two hours later, as I headed the opposite direction, the tones rang again, this time for heavy rain, wind, hail and lightening for regions just south of me, from a storm moving in from the west/southwest.

As I drove ever eastward towards home, the beauty of Mother Nature’s canvas captivated me.

Amazingly, the camera was packed in the truck, and I made the command decision to engage in play, instead of hurrying home to work on Ye Olde Projects To-Do List.

Taking the ‘long way home’, I stopped here and there, to capture the skies and landscape.

I hope you enjoy this taste of the Plains of Colorado – for ya know, I think it is Heaven’s Place on Earth….

(Please forgive the little shares regarding my mind chatter as I moved through space and time, attempting to capture my love of where I live.  The beauty without reminded me of my  frustration within, over modern accepted norms that insist, 

This is What IS!

I can only reply

Nope, not Really – THIS – Over Here! Is What it is really about….

Eastbound and Down…

Thank goodness it is the holiday weekend – and most travelers already at their western mountain destinations.

I confess to purely enjoying the relaxation from Intense Defensive Driving practices to avoid those speed demons, who quickly become impatient with campers pulling trailers full of toys, motor homes, farm or ranching equipment, making their way, slower than wished for, by so many.

I have often taken to the shoulder (and sometimes, the ditch) to avoid a head-on while the demons race around the slower paced folks in the years since I returned here.

I’m asked why I still gripe about this – it is how things are…and my reply is always the same –

But what IF the Hurry to Get There means, One Never Lives Long Enough to Arrive!?

And just how did we come to accept this racing from Point A to B as example of fine living?

Yes, yes, you’re right – I’m becoming an old fart.

One of the many little queries of Life I have that drives others insane over me and my view of all the possible answers –

But today, I was blessed with light traffic.

I could take my meandering time, without risking Life & Limb,  to pull over and snap some pics of the amazing cloud formation of the storm moving in from the southeast…Overshadowed by the storm arriving from the west.

(The upper dark cloud layer is the first wave of the storm moving in from the west – the Towering white clouds with gray base is the storm from the southeast.)

Every Silver Lining of hope is held aloft by the dark clouds of disappointment.

Racing Against the Storm

As I moved ever eastward, I stopped to capture moments as the dark fury, lightening and rain nipped at my heels and the fluffy white & silver lining of hope morphed into the storm I was moseying over to meet –

Every single wind tower was turning – How I caught them, in still form, without a blur, is a miracle and mystery to newbie-digital-camera, me. 🙂

From ridge far east of Colorado Springs, the western storm had moved far enough east enough for me to capture the profile of Pikes Peak.  A view that was, a mere 15 miles earlier in the journey, veiled in the dark mist of moisture from the sky.

Gazing over the green landscape, and the view of the Peak, I thought of my farmer brother, who says,

It always rains – Usually two seconds before it’s too late.

Take Me Home, Country Roads

Tired of highway travel, I turned off onto the dirt roads of home, to meander my way through the landscape I grew up with and love.

A landscape that holds the new wind towers, still in controversy in our neck of the woods, along side the wind power innovations of the past.

I’ve often been surprised to view on computer screen, later, how many pictures I captured during a day of following those I serve, the innovations of the Past bumping up against the creations of Now.

Perhaps my Love of History heart rules where I choose to point the camera, without me knowing about it. It could and does, often happen – for us all.

Alas, the auto-settings camera usually focuses on one – making the other, blurry –

Just as if, digital cameras, too, can’t yet decide which time in space they want to live in, either…

Which makes me feel better about  the whole conversation…

Here, I must pause in beauty and say, I was sorely disappointed in the many bloggers and pals I follow in the arenas of PermaCulture, Environment, Politics and such conversations.

For, in wake of the Paris Accord news item and U.S.A. leader choices, weeks ago….

Ever SO many of you Chose to list Cattle Ranchers as one of your Top 10 Bad Guys contributing to problems – many of which, have not chosen to publicly niche themselves as Vegans/Vegetarians – therefore, I was rather disappointed…

(Yes, I immediately wrote my spiel, it sits in ‘draft’ status, right now…but, thought I maybe ought to let it sit until I got cooled down over the points made by the commentators…)

“Disappointed” is not entirely true…

I was, in fact…

Mad enough to spit nails.

Here’s a glimpse of what Cattle Ranching looks like, here – true, I only need drive north towards the other great metropolis on the Front Range to see examples of feedlots where cattle eat from concrete trenchers and growing calves play King of the Hill on piles of feces, but I don’t count those things as end-all-reality – for, out here, they don’t exist .

(Don’t try to count from the road, while checking on the herd – they may be resting in sandy creek bed, or hiding in the grass of properly cared for land,  all hidden from your roadside view – 

Park the truck, get out on foot to walk the acres and make sure ya don’t have a mama or child in distress.   That’s how it’s really done.)

Did you, seriously, just include my Neighbors in your “Top 10 Evils / In face of Paris Accord” post?

Okey-Dokey – If ever you make your way to my neighborhood, let me know –

You and I will take a drive and you can get a taste of some of the fine folks that earn a living, care about their herds, depend upon Mother Nature and give her a helping hand whenever they are called upon to care for and protect her creations.

They who run the gamut each season from Joy of New Life to Heartbreak over those times when Life is Hard –

But also know full well –

Should they break any of the ‘Universal Rules’ in order to turn a fast buck?

They will lose all they love,

…in a heart beat.

If You Persist in….

Lumping my neighbors in with Robber Baron types…


You and I will just step outside and discuss it – I may not win, to your mind, but you are sure as hell gonna know you was in a fight.

That’s all I have to say about that.

One more pic, taken a day or so, here, after the I had time to hear about the breaking news of the Paris Accord media blitz, and my temper was on a firestorm anger, while logically trying to understand any of it – proponents and detractors…

June 7th -my oldest son’s b-day –  the last ‘Time Off” I took – before Today – Location – appx. 15 miles as the crow flies, northeast of today’s (above and July 1st) cattle pics.  We had a hot, windy, fire warning, dry spell in between the two moments in time, but somehow got blessed with green prairies, despite it all…)

I shall now move back from my own demons of the mind,  to the graciousness of the heavens and all they view on the ground, as they swiftly move over lesser mortals… 🙂

Sunset on the Plains

The blues, greens and purples were highlighted by the yellows, oranges and reds as the Sun gave her last fiery kiss goodnight.

Leaving us all with such hope and beauty, our journey through the dark is taken in trust – Trust we will once more be greeted and kissed Good Morning, in a moment.

Albeit, from the opposite horizon.

I think of these things as darkness envelopes the land.  I travel not far in feeling from the time of my ancestors who waited for the promise of tomorrow, via the gift of light.

Sun kissing clouds in the east goodnight

Happy Independence Day

I may not be self-sufficient or independent – I’m blessed to have neighbors who know my name and show up with what’s needed, when it’s needed as long as I’m attempting to pull me own weight.

I may sell hours of my being to earn my daily bread, and I may, when overwhelmed, chafe, against the chains that bind me to the expectations of our modern world and ‘stealing time’ to just be and enjoy.

Not certain when, if ever, this lifetime, I will reconcile in my soul, these two realities who live side by side.

But today, for a moment, I lived Free – free of the clock, free of demands, free of anything but enjoying the moment –

A moment in time, to truly embrace the abundance, grace, wealth and beauty of all that surrounds me.

No matter when you celebrate your Independence, I wish these things, for you, too.

All Call for “Help! Can’t Find the Original Published Story!”

After another fruitless search, to find what I wish to share with Son #2 on his upcoming birthday – I’m ready to put up the flares for “SOS” and hope one of my WordPress community-bloggy pals who are much better at searching Google than I am –

Your Mission – Should You Choose to Accept It…

(LOL – Sorry – couldn’t resist!)

In my childhood, Dad shared a story with me.  I believe it was something he came across in a Reader’s Digest – but not certain on the publication…

A mother wrote a final letter to each of her three son’s before passing away – the gist of each stage of life was listed out, but I have no memory of details except, as follows:

Son #1 –

You were the child of our early years, when we were working to build a life…how full of hope we were, but we didn’t always have the time to play…

Son #2

You arrived in our middle years – when we didn’t have to work so hard, but ……

Son #3

You arrived when we had it good – and had plenty of time to play and enjoy you ….

She closed each letter to each son with (paraphrasing)

“A mother is not supposed to have favorites –   Therefore, be kind to your brothers,  look out for them and never let them know, I always loved you best.”

I told this story to each of my sons

So they would understand they each had different personalities/ways of being, etc., that I loved best – without making either of them feel like they had to live up to the other –

Would love to share the original copy with Son #2 on his upcoming birthday – but dang if I can find it – 🙂

Thank you for any/all assistance!


This Message will self-destruct in 5, 4, 3….

Just kidding – your computer is safe –

Heaven’s Cyber Cafe – 2017

Hi Son – been too busy living and working give into the darkness that strikes me every year, at this time  – but as thunderstorm clouds approached from the west, this afternoon –  I was carried back through time and realized, with a start –

You would be a whole, big, 27 years old tomorrow, had you lived.

Tonight, at this time, 27 years ago, I was walking the halls of Rip Griffin’s Truckstop, in Limon, Colorado – very pregnant and not willing to cower, hunched up, in ‘protected space’ from still raging weather and further threats of yet more tornados.

I grumpily informed those trying to keep me in protected spaces of my need to walk out the charley horses plaguing my legs –

I was most likely in early labor, to bring you forth, then, but what did I know, at such a young age? Did I ever tell you about Wade?  He walked the glass window lined halls, with me, to keep me company.  (or perhaps he was placed on ‘guard duty’ for the crazy pregnant lady….who knows, for sure?)

The drive over to work some hours earlier was fraught with driving rain/wind and poor road conditions.

When I finally reached the gateway to Limon and found it guarded by law enforcement, I was informed of the tornado that had wiped out downtown.

(Not completely true, but in the dark of the night, who could fully tell, in the dark?

The battery operated radio delivered the  announcements proclaiming what was true less than a mile from my location and I had no way of knowing if really true or not – although I did laugh when one enthusiastic announcer said the ‘whole town’ was leveled – which I knew not to be true.  Even two weeks later,  when I visited to show you off to my friends and co-workers, downtown still looked and felt like a war zone.)

You arrived in my world on the tail winds of a massive summer storm – and left just as quickly in a whirlwind of events that I still pull out in attempt to fully understand how something so precious can disappear in a heart beat.

So Far, So Good, this season….

Not like 2 years ago, when your brother and I moved quickly to the cellar and waited for the sirens to quit blaring every 15 minutes or so….

Tornadoes & You –

So many springs have come and gone since that year you arrived, and those that have passed since you departed.

Except for the loss of you, Mother Nature and God have taken pretty good care of me, thus far – for didn’t I drive through the storm, somehow missing all of it to arrive in Limon, AFTER the full force of the storm reached out to touch the earth?

Was I not moved from the bedroom wiped out by huge tree, that just 3 nights before, I had slept in?

Have I not witnessed the fury over the years, without coming in harms way?

Have I not been blissfully unaware as the hand of the Grim Reaper lurked in the darkness around me, as I drove deserted highways, over the years?

And you…

Didn’t you, even while throwing words that hurt my mother’s heart, in your rebellious years, always have my total trust?

For you had the knack for being the devil who fought me tooth and nail when asked to help with dishes.

Then, turning angel, “Yum..cookies!  Thank you for deciding to make umpteen dozens of them, today…”

As I try, heartily, to immerse myself in the joy and beauty of each spring, to find a way to separate the beauty, grace, and blessings of your arrival from the fury, destruction and havoc caused by the same arrival season of spring storms –

I cannot – for, in the deepest part of my soul, the wild energy, awe inspiring moments spent experiencing both them and you – well – to me, they feel the same.

Both joy and fear – wild elation at the raw, untamed power that sweeps through a life and yet, fear  I might somehow miss one blessed moment contained in the darkest of times.

Here, Now –

We are getting along okay  –

Your brother has one year of college under his belt, a good summer job (which he got by pounding the pavement and filling out applications on Monday after end of semester AND hired same day…so proud of him.) and is contemplating his options for service, on either domestic or world service.

And he, too, has been gone a year, from my everyday ability to hug, say I love you in person etc.  Not a far away as you, but not daily, right near by.

Funny, how when I was pregnant and dreaming of each of you, the true weight of the day you would once again be gone on to your own adventures never really crossed my mind.

I miss you – I miss him.

For me, you two are the finest human beings it has ever been my pleasure to know.  Simultaneously, you each are tough and compassionate…

…pull your own weight and know how to ask for help.

My Gemini twins, born 8 years & 3 days apart – with their Airy ways that, by turns, provided what was needed to keep the hearth of my soul burning bright and could also blow me right into the firestorm of temper.

You, who stood strong and fast, in face of storms, braved walking into high-heat embers, then cooled it all into oblivion by a simple word or gesture.

Missing you, both, sorely, tonight.

And now, since I took my sweet time writing to you, I can say,

Happy Birthday, babe.

LUBP (love you a bushel and a peck, and a hug around your neck…)



Fly-By Update

I took pictures – I’m working on more projects than I care to take the time to list – but, simply have to share the beauty, how ‘do nothing/or at least, not today’ slow to implement permaculture looks like and small satisfaction over beds with growing miracles, weeded, seeded and protected for moisture/weeds look like – once I actually got a day or two to get ‘er done.

(Understand, the get ‘er done part courtesy my mother – who announced last month she would arrive for short layover of 2 days, in early June, that only 12 of the 178 bulbs she planted last fall had come up yet, at her ‘new home’ north of me and, to fulfill her love of being in the ‘garden’ in spring, she was washing rocks and replacing weed guard – and wondering what went ‘wrong’ with the bulbs….)

So, like any good daughter would, I asked for two days off from work – otherwise, I would have been gone while she was here – I sent pics of blooming things and planned what to ‘putter’ around with for us to work on –

Here’s the Breakdown:

May 22nd

Irises – East Side. Will need separated, definitely, this coming fall (last fall went from hot/dry to cold/blizzard so fast, didn’t get done…)
Irises & Rhubarb -South West Dry Bed – needed splitting, last fall – but going strong, even with lazy gardener ways –
Poppies flourishing among native grass. They shall ‘pop’ soon! Surrounded by weeds, as weird weather & busy schedule last year meant 3 failed Amaranth plantings.

May 26th

More blooms appear in southwest, harsher conditions, bed
Rhubarb is my pride and joy, this year – and wonder – do you suppose Rhubarb is the ‘pie plant’ referred to in Laura Ingall’s Wilder’s Little Town on the Prairie and The First Four Years books? 🙂
The first poppies arrive amidst last years leavings, weeds, etc….and some rain causing spots on lens capturing the moment….
Is this the surprise purple/cream irises that showed up last year, that I didn’t plant…or not? Time will tell –
Native plum trees, garlic and….ta-da- lots of weeds!

June 1st

Front area weeded, seeded with low growing wildflower mix and used biodegradable seed mat for early protection.
North side of area around poppies weeded, seeded with taller Butterfly western mix
Not pictured, earlier today – the bees swarming around the poppies – no stings, no buzzing, no nothing but joy and beauty while we each went about our business – 🙂
Lost 3 rose seedlings to the last, hard cold storm, so replaced with Caragana (pea shrub) just did 1, cuz peas/beans and garlic/onions supposedly non-companions – Caragana seedling is stick with small green leaves mid-way down.  Rose, Garlic, a few perennial Welsh onions that survived last fall’s planting, and weeded/seed areas a a mixture of marigolds, and 4 kinds of carrots….we’ll see how this all turns out – 🙂
Rose bush that was buried by roof fall of heavy wet snow – How I love survivors! Garlic and some dusty miller seedlings planted here – not sure the dusty miller will take off, but decided to try
Tomorrow? Seed amaranth/buckwheat in bare ground to west of rhubarb/iris to prepare for fall moving of transplants from rhubarb and irises AND, (sigh) weeding, seeding, protecting better, the Native Plum/Garlic west bed – who has been patiently waiting…. 🙂

Happy spring/summer – 🙂

And, for fans, of the fly-by/buzz the tower – a lil’ clip – 🙂

Tornados, Blizzards and Such

So, I had scheduled the Rhubarb, Humans and Storm to auto publish – operator error OR I’m once again at mercy of the fates in cyber land –

So, my post from nearly 2 weeks ago, after trying to publish with correct date, was finally just published with wrong date (May 18th)- and too tired to know if my error or not – and don’t care to waste time researching –

Cuz, it’s nothing, here in my locale, to be talking about tornados, rain & floods one day, fire danger the next and then posting about winter storm warnings/snow/freezing temps –

Sometimes, we get all the warnings, in one day, doncha know – 🙂

Which is why I love my moniker as native Coloradoan – cuz, that means we are tough and rather fly by the seat of our pants, right?!?  🙂

Yesterday, after long awaited arrival of local youth entrepreneur that is more in my reduced budget plan for this year than professional help, arrived to tackle the jungle I haven’t even made first pass at –

While I moved vehicles out of the way, informed youngster of possible hazards, courtesy of storm-removed tree parts and displaced rocks in size of 1″ or more in grassy areas via snow removal activities and deteriorating road base in driveway/street level  –

….Um, yeah, the mower was turned off while he listened and then resisted re-start activities – sigh –

My fault and I freely confessed to nixing the whole thing while talking about the project and risk assessment – 🙂  Some walking around the place while things rested, help arrived to start (Dad) etc., we had wonderful conversation – I learned more about where things are at in his world and he learned more about my ole fart perspective –

After windows of beautiful weather, interspersed with snow that threatened/nixed my plans, but the grass here, just LOVES!  4/5ths of the jungle (aka, my corner lot) was whipped into shape by hired help.

After month or more (been working alot – in time twilight zone – heck, for all I know – 2.5 seconds has passed or 1000 years…. )

…with only 6 or so tornado/thunderstorm/winter storm  watches/warnings – etc.

…I figured I better snap some pics for who knows what the morrow will bring?

(As I speak, it’s calendar wise, 2 days later – hourwise, 54 hours later and we’ve had rain, temp drop, snow, turned the wall heater back on, too warm, wind howling, opened the door to see how much snow, and yup, it’s raining….sigh….)

So, once again, I pray to the powers that be – “If works with your Big Plan – can you protect my seedlings, once more?  The Rhubarb, still!, almost ready to harvest – the Irises and Poppies are almost ready to show up – show ’em some love in form of protection, if temps dip again…please?”

And I snapped pics, this past Wednesday, just to prove – the ‘au naturale, dryland bed, continually expanded, and carefully protected & provided for, in everything except irrigation, aggressive weeding and planting in perfect rows (i.e. Lazy Gardening…) did, at that moment, show great promise –

Needed to share, just in case, the Big Plan doesn’t include my lil small loves – – 🙂

Irises amongst the Rhubarb

Not sure if next pic is early stage heirloom purple and white iris, already on place and ‘saved’ from mowing activities, or offspring of burgundy/cream one that showed up via surprise, last fall – space in bed is last year’s surprise burgundy/cream spot – early bud color looks similar to heirloom ones – hopefully, they survive to bloom and I get to know, later, which witch is which!

And, well, the one poppy on the place, in spring of 2013, carefully guarded from cultivation activities, has so many great-great grandchildren showing up this year, I didn’t even bother to count.

(I stopped counting how many poppies last spring around 41  – ya know? What’s the point, now? From one to many and I was satisfied in what I had learned – or thought I had learned –

Sometimes people, plants & animals don’t need you to fix or interfere to help – they just need you to hold the ‘safe space’ for them to reach their full potential in and it will happen on their timeline, not yours….


Rhubarb, Humans and Storm

This spring has been an interesting one – dry, warm winter means much local pondering & conversations regarding what ‘bugs’ that lay humans low may not have been killed off with wet & freezing winter weather, while I work to meet Spring Frenzy time while energy sapped from setback in health.

I also mentally move, continually, between quietly thinking I can ‘get by’ ignoring outdoor work, while doing other work for awhile, in light of given chances for late spring blizzard,

To  the alternate reality of walking my place, viewing the landscape and realizing if I don’t get in the garden, soon, I may well have a runaway wildlife sanctuary of green things on my hands….including some aggressive inhabitants that don’t play nice.

I continue to have one ‘trouble’ spot of bindweed that has defied all attempts at eradication through weeding and other such means –

I am seriously considering whether I can hold out, for one more year, keeping it contained to that spot, without resorting to chemical assistance –

If I give in for EZ now, solution, pick a calm, non-breezy day and deliver directly via a q-tip or eye-dropper, cuz, that’s the least risky way, right?  🙂

Something has got to give, and quite frankly, from my perspective, I cherish my ‘made it! despite black thumb gardening attempts’ plum trees that are the prime target of said invader.

I’ve also gone from worrying over whether the beautiful rhubarb will ‘make it’ to ruby red harvest time through spring snows, to considering whether today would be the day it falls to high winds, hail and tornados.

It’s not that I technically have had time to seriously ‘worry’ about such possibilities – but it makes a funny “what humans choose to worry about” story, does it not?

Death of Rhubarb possibilities via a foot of heavy snow OR turbulent spring thunderstorms – all in space of a week.

Alas, even though the home area was under tornado warning today…

…Even though the deep blue/purple horizon to the west indicated massive storm system approaching from both north and south….

…Even though I caught the tail end of the Emergency Broadcast blaring from radio, when I re-entered my vehicle to return home after running errands…

…and I also arrived home to view text message from local Emergency System, informing me how to take cover, in event of ACTUAL tornado, etc., etc.,

As the afternoon/evening wore on, I chose to visit my back doors step, often, to view the sky and smell the air.

I watched the clouds play across the sky and lifted my nose to smell the crisp air that carried not one tinge of the (?acrid?  charged? words defy description…) smell learned and logged in my brain, long ago.

The smell that can send me into hiding/cowering mode, in a heartbeat.

Today, while gazing at purple skies, I also listened as the host of local birds filled the air with chatter and song….

Observed aviation hunters riding high in the sky, gliding and floating as if the landscape of the heavens above were calmer flight paths than the space held by my top branches of Grandfather Ponderosa Pine tree.

I finally listened to Mother Nature and decided, “Tornado-schnnormado – We are safe – for now -”

But the fear was there, all the same

Fear of chaos caused by summer storms that arrive after dark, and move unseen across the prairie, unless Lightning chooses to reveal them.

Of Fingers of Fate that reach from the heavens to twist, toss and destroy – I know just a tad about such things and while I strive to laugh in face of a white-out blizzard driving experience, summer storms that play in the dark run the cold finger of fear through the deep soul part of me.

Yes, I cleared the staged piles of gardening materials off the top of my door-in-the-floor gateway to cellar haven.

I also opened all the windows to prevent pressure glass explosions AND to increase the odds of hearing the warning siren if it should sound from a few blocks away –

And then laughed at myself and my “back-up plan” activities, when the dark clouds went north and south of here – in the perfect split I’ve observed so many times over the years, here in this locale.

I returned to ‘work’ in front of the computer, came up for air some hours later, to realize it was dark and listened to the gentle, soothing, pitter-patter of rainfall gracing this space.

I’m not sure when late in day thunderstorm fears will lose their grip on me –

But I sure do appreciate the times when I can laugh at myself, my fears and go to sleep to the gentle melody of rain falling.

When the distant flashes and rumbles of electricity at play are too far away to startle me into fight or flight mode.

Spring Synchronicity

Recently, a patron at the library wrote out a quote for me, attributed by said patron, to “Fred Anonymous” – which tickled me.

I folded it at the end of a long day and shoved it into the deep pockets of my jeans for the journey home.  I, somehow, managed to remember to retrieve it before doing laundry – and now, it shall go on my ‘wall of inspiration’ over my desk at home -the little quote, scrawled across recycled scratch paper, that intrigues me.

Fate whispers to the Warrior, ‘You cannot withstand the Storm.’

The Warrior replies, ‘I am the Storm’

I like it, even though, deep inside, I seriously question if the Storm is of Summer variety, whether I’ll meet it  in way that speaks of Warrior status – given my understanding of what the term, “Warrior” precisely entails –

Most likely, I’ll be cowering in my cellar, waiting and listening – which doesn’t really sound like Warrior status-worthy, just now…

But I like the sentiment –

It’s a boon to be reminded of  the beauty and grace portions of the Storm, even while one waits to see what it shall do – to ponder just what they share in common with the Storm – and what they fear from something they are intrinsically connected with.

Warrior bestowed-status or not, me, you, we – are all the Storm – in all it’s potential for destruction, tempered by the gifts only the Storm can bring.

The Comfort of The Known

I sit here, listening to rain patter down –

It’s April, in Colorado, and while every cell in my body tells me I’m risking the investment of $ spent on 7 gallon fruit trees, by foolishly leaving them in protected. albeit outdoor, area… overnight – well….I’m leaving them.

I did check the weather forecast and hope they are getting ever better at such forecasts – 🙂

You are free to laugh at my simple trust in Mother Nature and her kindness, patience and tolerance with me and my ways, especially if I post pics tomorrow, of yet another spring blizzard that killed living things I signed up to take care of….

But for now, in this moment of time and space – I’m carried back to my youth –

Of visiting my grandparents in their home east of the Mississippi –

A retirement trailer, with a back bedroom, with a metal roof – and the coziness of hearing the patter, patter of raindrops, without leaving my snug and warm nest.

The security of a child who can sleep in, on this rainy, drizzly day –

The soft murmur of voices known, even when words aren’t clear or understandable as they drift from the kitchen at one end of a single-wide to the bedroom located at the other end.

For the heart knows the timber and depth of Dad & Grandpa talking over morning tea and coffee – even if the ears and mind cannot make out the details.

The lighter tones and different melodies of Mom, Grandma, sisters and aunts, join in as they catch up as best they can in the time they have together, all while breakfast is cooked and placed on the set table –

The smell of bacon or ham eventually alerts the adult me to the fact the soft patter of raindrops falling and the soft crackle of morning meal frying in a skillet blended together until the two sounds melded to create a multi-leveled symphony that still speaks of home, loved ones and safety.

For some, the peaceful day means burrowing and snuggling deep into the nest of warm quilts and soft bed – drifting back off to dreamworld,

Trusting completely in the nest guarded by so many who love and the knowledge there are so many things to love here & now.

For others, the tummy awakens and insists the soul and mind withdraw from dreamland, the body be galvanized into departing the nest to stumble forth and for all pieces to make their way to the kitchen and take part in the symphony the household is creating, in real time –

Without rehearsal – without previous plans – nothing but the practice of each instrument, daily, going about greeting the new day.


Sigh – if weather forecast is correct, I’m truly, tonight, wishing heartily I could travel back in time to when I was 9 years old, go to sleep, and magically….


awaken to tomorrow -once more in the time place of this memory.

At the very, least, I wish I wasn’t on duty tomorrow –

I’d really like to awaken, hear the gentle & slow delivery of moisture, snuggle under the covers, and drift back off into dreamland…

Sleeping in is, I believe, my only option – unless scientists and my bones are mistaken and I awaken to massive snow dumps that relieve me from needing to be elsewhere – cuz I signed up to do so – but result in shoveling, tunneling moisture from areas I haven’t yet figured out, yet, to naturally water other areas, given slope, grade, improvements, without me ever moving it, meself –

I’m pretty certain I won’t awaken to the smell of cooking bacon…unless I’ve learned to cook while sleeping.

However, Oakley, the wonderdawg, might just surprise me – 🙂