Crows for me

Two days of continuous rain had everything soaked. Two days of no sunshine made everything feel blah. Two days of being forced inside created cabin fever. Sitting in the den, looking outside, I saw three crows seeming to enjoy the drizzling rain. As I looked at them, I wondered if anyone ever wished they were a crow. If people were to imagine themselves being a bird I would think they would want to be an eagle, or a blue bird, or a cardinal, or some other interesting and beautiful bird. Who would want to be crow? Why would someone want to be crow? The bird we would choose to be are the one's with beautiful colors, one's that could fly the fastest, one's that could sing the prettiest songs. A crow has none of the traits we consider to be desirable. Even a crow's sound can be loud and annoying, caw-caw. Who would want to go around all day saying caw-caw, caw-caw? Even a crow's color may not be the most desirable. Who wants to be a black bird when you can be a blue, or red, or yellow bird? Often times in the fall when outside riding a horse, or walking, or attempting hunting, it seems like crows are nature's alarm system. They seem to tell everything within half a mile I am outside.  I don't recall seeing crows in the summer months, but every fall they faithfully show up to charm us with their caw-caw. A crow, I am sure, has a purpose. I'm certain there are people who find them fascinating and beautiful. 

As I saw the crows in the back yard, I started wondering about their purpose. What purpose could a black cawing bird have? My intent was to write this blog about how everything has a purpose, even crows. Wanting to know a little more about crows I visited Dr. Google. Copied and pasted below is the second article I came across. I had my moment of amazement, and it was not what I expected. I never made it to an article about what purpose a crow could have. I was intrigued by this article, and was satisfied this is what I needed to learn from crows. 

American Crows are highly social birds, more often seen in groups than alone. In addition to roosting and foraging in numbers, crows often stay together in year-round family groups that consist of the breeding pair and offspring from the past two years. The whole family cooperates to raise young. Winter roosts of American Crows sometimes number in the hundreds of thousands. Often admired for their intelligence, American Crows can work together, devise solutions to problems, and recognize unusual sources of food. Some people regard this resourcefulness and sociality as an annoyance when it leads to large flocks around dumpsters, landfills, and roosting sites; others are fascinated by it. American Crows work together to harass or drive off predators, a behavior known as mobbing. - https://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/american_crow/lifehistory

Aren't we highly social people, more often seen in groups than alone?
Don't we often stay together in life-long family groups?
Doesn't it take our whole family cooperating to raise our young?
Aren't we the most intelligent specie on the planet, and work together, devise solutions to problems, and recognize unusual sources of food?
Aren't we resourceful, and aren't we sometimes socially annoying?
And this is my favorite.....
Shouldn't we be working together to harass and drive off our greatest predator, satan? Shouldn't we be mobbing satan on behalf of those we love and care for?

"Somebody's Prayin'"

Somebody's prayin, I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me
To protect what I can't see
Lord I believe, Lord I believe
That somebody's prayin', for me.

Angels are watchin', I can feel it
Angels are watchin' over me
There's many miles ahead 'til I get home
Still I'm safely kept before your throne
'Cause Lord I believe, Lord I believe
Your angels are watchin' over me.

Well, I've walked through barren wilderness
When my pillow was a stone
And I've been through the darkest caverns
Where no light had ever shown.
Still I went on 'cause there was someone
Who was down on their knees
And Lord. I thank you for those people
Prayin' all this time for me.

Somebody's prayin', I can feel it
Somebody's prayin' for me
Mighty hands are guiding me
To protect me from what I can't see
Lord I believe, Lord I believe
Somebod's prayin' for me...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHtWhnZU2Xo

This song is in my iTunes playlist. It often rolls around to play. It's encouraging that perhaps someone was praying for me in a time of trouble. It also encourages me to pray for others that come to mind who are facing trouble and difficulties.

Seeing crows has taken on a different meaning for me.

What do we say?

Singing and music have never been a strength of mine. If I ever sing in the shower, I make sure no one is around. If I sing while driving down the road, I make sure the music is so loud I can't even hear myself. Singing at church is done in a muffled tone, so not to scare the congregation off before they get to hear the preacher. Needless to say, I can't carry a tune in a bucket. Some of my family are blessed with the gift of a beautiful voice. However, this gift was not one God chose for me.  Occasionally I get the privilege of standing beside or in front of a lady who has a voice as beautiful as an angel. I'm always secretly hoping the people in front of me think it's me who has that magnificent voice. Well....... my wish finally came true. I was singing at our ladies bible study during the opening hymn, and there was a lady behind me with a voice to die for. Her ability to sing far out done any dream I ever had for singing. I belted out my pitiful tone, just because I knew she would drown me out. The song ended. I felt great. I got to sing loud and proud, because I knew my singing was covered up by her sweet voice. We dismissed in prayer and headed for our classes. After class we returned to the sanctuary for a lecture. A lady who had stood in front of me during the opening hymn spotted me, and smiled. She said 'You sang beautiful while ago'. I smiled and nodded. What do I say? Do I let her think it is me? Do I set her straight? I spoke up with a smile (almost a laugh), 'That wasn't me.' She quietly sat down in front of me, and we opened our hymns to sing another song. I am certain after that song she knew it wasn't me. The woman who was behind me earlier had sat somewhere else.

Listening to the Holy Spirit can sometimes be a challenge. Sometimes I listen to the Holy Spirit in the shower, when no one is around. Sometimes the Holy Spirit talks while I'm driving down the road but the music is so loud I can't hear him. Sometimes the Holy Spirit speaks to me at church, but I'm afraid speak up more than a muffled 'amen', so the congregation won't wonder what's wrong with me. The gift of the Holy Spirit is freely given to all who acknowledge and accept, even me. Occasionally I get the privilege of standing beside, or in front of, someone who always seems filled with the Spirit. Someone whose face always seems to glow because they have been in the presence of God. Sometimes, I secretly hope the people around me think I'm filled with the Spirit too. It's contagious. The Spirit makes others want to be filled with the Spirit. Well.........my wish can come true. The Holy Spirit's ability to direct, and help me, far out does any dream I've ever had. I can belt out my pitiful attempts at life and know the Holy Spirit can multiply my efforts, if I back up and give Him space. Our life can be filled with great joy and enthusiasm, by allowing the Holy Spirit's indwelling power to lead. We cross paths with different people every day. Perhaps someone will look at us and say, 'you helped me when I needed it', or 'you prayed for me', or 'you encouraged me when I was sad', or 'you did a great job'. And when someone gives us a compliment, do we just smile and nod. What do we say? Do we let them think it's us? Do we set them straight? I sat by a lady at supper a few nights ago. I was giving her compliments for a job well done on something she is in charge of. She took her index finger and pointed up. She said 'It wasn't me, It was all Him'. She knew to give credit where credit was due. She knew it was God working thru her. Do we point up, speak up, and say 'That wasn't me, it was all God'. And when life proceeds on to another chapter, will the people you've crossed paths understand it wasn't you? Will they understand it was the Holy Spirit in you, directing you, and know it was all God.

A quilt from a quilt show in Little Rock, AR

Kindred Spirits and Bosom Friends

When my daughter was younger, there was a movie she used to watch called 'Anne of Green Gables'. I think I may have enjoyed the movie more than my daughter. Anne was a red head tomboy orphan who was always up to something. The movie follows Anne thru her life as she grows up, and allows the viewer a chance to see quiet a range of shenanigans that seem to follow the girl everywhere she goes. During the course of the movie, the little tomboy blossoms into a well educated beautiful woman. It was in this movie that I first heard the phrase 'Kindred Spirits' and 'Bosom Friend'. Anne used them in the following way:

"Kindred Spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world."
-L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
Anne made this comment about a lady who previously had gotten crossways with Anne, but in the end Anne realized there really were some similarities they had in common. 

"A bosom friend--an intimate friend, you know--a really kindred spirit to whom I can confide my inmost soul. I've dreamed of meeting her all my life. I never really supposed I would, but so many of my loveliest dreams have come true all at once that perhaps this one will, too. Do you think it's possible?
Anne said this to Marilla shortly after she arrived at Avonlea.


The honesty of Anne's words cut straight to the heart. Don't we as women all wish for a true 'kindred spirit', or a true 'bosom friend'? 

Growing up shy, bashful, and backwards created huge obstacles in finding a kindred spirit, or a bosom friend. I had a tendency to confide in my horses, talk to my horses, enjoy my horses, and dream about my horses. Taking time to establish a strong relationship was too much stress for someone so shy. It was just easier to build a relationship with a horse. Funny I know, but it worked for me. I could stay in my comfort zone of not communicating, not exchanging thoughts and feelings, not worrying about if or when I'd last talked to someone, and enjoy the solitude with a large warm blooded animal. The effort it would take to establish a kindred spirit or bosom friend was too great for this shy girl.

I think the years spent with my grandma in her later years, and becoming a grandma myself, required me to go at a slower pace than usual. The slower pace gave me time to become more reflective, and think more about what was actually happening around me. In both of these relationships I started to realize it was the small things that meant the most. It was the flowers picked, the hay bales jumped, the dollar store visited frequently, the drive to a cousin's house, the books we read, the Thomas trains pushed, the pinto beans and cornbread we ate, the apples we picked from the back yard, and the peaches we picked at the orchard, these were the things I treasured the most. I was taught in both these relationships we have but one turn in life. I think it was the realization of the one turn in life that opened me up enough to give space to the possibility of a kindred spirit or bosom friend.

Finding someone you can consider a 'kindred spirit' or a 'bosom friend' is a true rarity. There are a couple women I consider have earned a ranking in my book as a both a 'kindred spirit' and a 'bosom friend', they are my grandma (Modenia) and my sister (Cindy). With both these women I have felt, at times, they knew me better than I knew myself (and that is scary). However, they were  neither judgmental or critical. They always listened with an attentive ear and loving heart. Offering advice only when asked. Giving a nod of the head in agreement with me, or giving me a long pause in the conversation if they disagreed. I got the point, and they never had to say a thing.

There have also been a few women I consider to be a very strong 'kindred spirit'. Each relationship occurred at a time, and in a place I totally was not expecting. They blossomed on their own with very little nurturing. They just showed up out of the blue. I think God put them in my path at a specific time in my life because it was just what I needed to get me thru. He knew what I was going to need before I did. He went ahead of me preparing the way by placing these women in life. I'll not mention their names, but I have thanked God for giving them to me just when I needed them. Each 'kindred spirit' has it's own unique set of blueprints, which create our unique relationship. There are still struggles within myself to open up, but the rewards received from each of these relationships have been worth the risk.

As women, perhaps we can look for that special lady who needs encouraging, lifting up, prayed for, talked to, or just called. We can make a difference. I've had women make a difference in me, and I'm not sure they even know. If the opportunity presents itself I will tell them what they have meant to me. It was the small things they did, the gesture of kindness, a prayer said for me, the acknowledgment that I was in the room, a smile given when I was feeling down, or maybe by an email or text just to say hi.

Many kindred spirits are in this world. Take the first step, open the door to the possibility of creating a kindred spirit. Who knows, in the end you may find yourself a new bosom friend. Wouldn't that be the biggest treat of all?

Excess baggage

In fifty years of life, and thirty one and a half years of marriage, a lot of 'stuff' can accumulate. This 'stuff' creates memories and piles up all over the house. Our house is no different than any other, except Tim and I tend to be pack rats. I have a tendency to hang onto 'stuff'. Some good, and some bad.

Some favorite 'stuff' I have held onto is:
- My dad's wallet that was in his pocket on the day he died. I have kept it just as it was when it was given to me. Inside can still be found pictures of my mom, my brother, my sister, and myself in the accordion plastic file. Other items still in the wallet are: a blank check from dad and mom's checking account with First National Bank, his last AQHA membership card for the year 1980, a business card from Bonds Brangus Farms listing dad as manager, a notarized card dated May 1, 1977 where David Pryor approved his appointment as a law enforcement officer, his drivers license with an expiration date June 30, 1982, an ID card from the Faulkner County Sheriff's Dept. signed by Charles Castleberry, a Faulkner County Law Enforcement officer membership card, and other various cards and documents.
- Hundreds and hundreds of photos. Everyone of them is a treasure, but some how most of them are stored in boxes. Tim has tried to give me the task of putting them on dvd, but there are way too many for me to want to tackle that task. I told him the kids can have that task after I am gone.
- A crown from a children's Christmas play. I asked Tim to dress up as the The Great Late Potentate for a children's Christmas musical, and he agreed. He dressed up in a costume that looked like a purple gown, and there was a crown that perfectly matched his gown. He actually pulled off singing and dancing in a baptist church without getting kicked out. The hat holds a special place in my heart because of his gesture of unconditional kindness and willing spirit.
- Some of my children's teeth they lost when they were young children. (By the way they came in handy when our daughter misplaced her tooth she had just pulled. She was distraught. Remembering the canister holding her previously lost teeth, it was only a few steps away. I opened the canister, and took out a tooth. Going back to where she was still searching for the misplaced tooth, I spoke up "I found it". The tooth fairy never knew the difference.)
- My mom's wedding gown (Don't tell my sister), and a picture of her wearing it with dad at her side. They made a beautiful couple.
- Mom's engagement ring from dad. She received it when he proposed by the old one lane bridge south of Wooster.
- A portrait of Jesus that was hanging over my grandmothers bed on the day she died.
- A couple what-nots from my sister telling me how 'good' of a sister I am. (lol)
- Videos of both sets of my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary.
- A hunk of horse tail cut from my favorite horse. Boss was the best horse for 32 years, until he died. He helped raise my kids.
- A saddle blanket given to me by my dad. It was one of the last things I remember him giving me. Even though it has red fringe on it, I have worn it proudly on different occasions at horse shows.
- A four generation portrait with my grandma, my mom, my daughter, and myself. I'll be forever proud we took the time to have it made.
- A Good News Bible given to me by JoEd Woodward, my Sunday School teacher. The bible reads like a story book. As a kid it was fun to read, and kept me in the Word. There are so many notes in the bible, I like to look at it and see what inspired me at the time.
- For 32 years I carried a card in my wallet. It was the size of a credit card. On the face of the card was a picture of a blue bull. The bulls heart was red and looked like it was about to pound out of his chest. The card read 'My heart enlarges at the sight of you'. It was a card Tim gave me when we were dating. I thought it was the cutest thing. I carried it for 32 years until it got so brittle it was falling apart.
- A pair of my daughter's first black patent shoes she wore to Sunday school as a tiny infant.
- My oldest son's first bible given to him by the pastor that married Tim and I.
- A couple of my youngest son's black vest he wore as a young child. 

Some unfavorite 'stuff' I have held onto is:
- Clothes I have out grown, but keep expecting some day I might wear them again
- Books I started reading, but never finished
- Negativity
- Grudges I should have let go of a long time ago
- Clutter around my house, and in my closets, that sometimes is overwhelming and gets discouraging
- Books and magazines that need to find a new home
- Worn out blankets that obviously have no value and never will
- Broken or worn out pots and pans that have no use
- Guilt of not calling people I care about just to say 'hi' and check on them
- Sorrow of missing a wedding, funeral, memorial service, birthday party, etc.
- An unappreciative heart for a kindness done to me
- Apologies not given
- A bad temper
- Stubbornness

Both the good and bad define who I am, and who we are. We are to live a victorious life for Christ, not one of guilt and condemnation. While we sometimes feel guilty and condemned for the things we do, and have done, with God's forgiving grace we can live a life glorifying to God. If we are designed and made by the Great Creator, don't you think he wants his creation to celebrate life? A few weeks ago I came across a verse that spoke volumes to me. 'He was pierced for our transgressions. He was crushed for our iniquities. The punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.' Isaiah 53:5. Something REALLY amazing to me, is the verse was written thousands of years ago and in 2015 it was just what I needed.

The Great Late Potentate's Hat 

 My daughter's shoes from infancy

My oldest son's first bible

 My youngest son's vest from childhood

 My dad's wallet

 My mom's engagement ring

 My children's baby teeth

 A four generation photo with my grandma, mom, and daughter

Bible from JoEd Woodward

The Visitor

Tim has been traveling to Africa for the past 5 years on mission trips. About 10 years ago the Lord laid it on Tim's heart to learn about drilling water wells. As a result of Tim's knowledge the Lord called Tim to Africa, by means of Bro. Bobby Bowman, to drill much needed water wells. God can take little and make it into much, if someone has a willing heart to serve. This was the case with Tim. His actual knowledge of drilling water wells was very little, and his knowledge of drilling with the type of rig required for African soil was zero. The lack of knowledge did not stop the work God had planned for Africa. With willing hearts, many teams have trekked to Africa to provide a necessity we take for granted. During the years spent in Africa, Tim created many friendships and working partners.

In September I had a meeting with an African Tim had met, and formed a friendship with. Over the past few years a storm was tearing apart our marriage. During the course of the storm if anyone wanted to talk to me, argue with me, discuss with me, or say whatever they needed to say about our marriage, I would give them time and space. A couple days before my 50th birthday, I received a text from this African. (I will refer to them as 'the visitor' because they informed me it was all God's doing, and to leave them out of it. With that being said, I will leave their name out of this and just call them 'the visitor'.) Tim knew the visitor was in the country, but had no idea they wanted to meet with me. I felt their intention was to talk about mine and Tim's relationship. I didn't answer right away because I was busy. I intended on answering later, but forgot. The next day I received a phone call from the visitor. They requested we meet, and said they had a word from God. I agreed to meet, and we met at Cracker Barrel the next day. When we met, the visitor took the opportunity to pray right away. We began talking, and shortly after was interrupted by our waitress wanting to take our order. Once the order was taken, the talking resumed. I don't remember all that was said. However, there were two things I do remember about the conversation: 1. The visitor was persistent in telling me the battle was not between Tim and I, but was a battle between God and satan. 2. The visitor was persistent in me agreeing to let Tim move back into our house.  #2 was so difficult for me to agree to at first I said 'no'. The visitor didn't budge. The battle they were fighting was for God, and they wouldn't give up. The visitor even made the offer to get in the floor and beg, if needed. I begrudgingly agreed to his request. Our food had arrived earlier, and had grown cold. We ate and visited more. After eating he prayed again, and gave all the praise and glory to God. We left Cracker Barrel with the understanding that I would call Tim first chance I had and tell him the good news. I was hesitant, but the visitor was very excited. I had to drive the visitor across town. As we were driving, my cell phone started ringing. Who do you think would call? It was Tim. I showed it to the visitor, but didn't expect what he said. "Answer it, and tell him the good news." I couldn't believe what he was saying. Was he expecting me to tell Tim to move back into the house, while he listened? Yes. I answered the phone, hesitantly. The words felt like glue in my throat. The visitor evidently could see beyond our current circumstances, and was obedient to the task God had given. I was still stuck in the past with all the hurt feelings, and disappointments. I couldn't see past all that 'stuff', and my selfishness. With the words flowing out of my mouth, the receiver of my conversation had grown quiet. In 30+ years of marriage, I had never known my husband to be at a loss of words. Quiet frankly, Tim was speechless. If our relationship had been in a better place, I would have fallen out of the truck laughing so hard at his speechlessness.  As we talked I could hear the visitor behind me saying 'praise God', and 'yes Lord'.  His triumphant, joyful feelings could be felt in the words he was saying. Tim and I spoke for only a couple minutes, and made arrangements to meet where he was working.

I stopped to drop off the visitor at a church, where he was meeting someone. The visitor asked me to come in, and tell the good news to a mutual friend. We went inside, met the friend, told the good news, went to the sanctuary, knelt down at the podium, the three of us held hands, and prayed. It was a moment worthy of being included in my baby book. Wiping away tears, I left to go find Tim.

Our initial greeting was a feeling of hesitancy, but also a feeling of relief. The storm we'd been going thru had us both battered and damaged, but the hope before us lifted our spirits enough we managed to share some hugs and kisses. We are slowly putting our relationship back together. We still struggle, almost daily. It is a gradual process, but with God's help we will be victorious.

The visitor continues to encourage me during the restoration. Here are some text sent to me by the visitor in the days following our meeting. I have been blessed and encouraged by them.

Note to self: You have to fight for what is yours.

Note to self: Fight on my knees, and don't give up.

Note to self: Pray more than I talk with Tim, and let prayers become my talk.

If only every marriage could have such a visitor at a time of crisis, our world would be a better place. God knew my hard heart needed the persistency of this visitor. Listen, Listen, Listen.....You have to fight for what is yours. Fight on your knees, and don't give up. Pray more than you talk, and let prayers become your talk.

Neither of us are perfect people, but we are purchased people (paid for in full at Calvary).

The Tornado Dissipated

There was a lady about 2 years ago who had a dream. She’d never given much thought to dreams, mostly because she never remembered what they were after she woke up. However, this dream was different. It was specific, and she couldn't get it out of her head once she woke up. It was a dream about a tornado, and it was tearing up everything she loved in it's path. A short time before the dream, unaddressed marital issues, that went back 15 years, were coming to a head. Arguments became more intense, and there never seemed to be any resolve. Poor communication skills of 30 years had finally erupted into a massive storm. When she had the dream, she felt it was pointing directly at what was happening in their marriage. The marriage was gaining momentum, but in a negative way. Their marriage was picking up debris of hurt feelings, unresolved arguments, past deeds never resolved, hot tempers, frustrations, hurtful words, heated disagreements and a lot of finger pointing. She was ready to leave the storm before it got any worse. Over the course of 2 years of struggles, it did get worse. The storm kept hammering at their 30 year marriage. During the midst of the storm they went to counselors, a marriage retreat, and tried living separate. Nothing seemed to help. She could remember the day her heart shut down. It was like a storm cellar. The storm wasn't going to get to her, because her heart had shut itself up. It was the most empty feeling, but she felt safe with her heart shut away from the storm. Her husband's heart, on the other hand, had opened up. New doors were opening. Things were being revealed to him from God, but her cold closed heart wouldn't give his attempts a chance to show how he wanted to do their relationship better. A cold closed heart is not an easy thing to get opened. God tried in different ways to tell her to give it a chance, but she was determined, and wasn't budging. She felt the hurt was too much, and didn't want to go back. 

It was a God thing that opened her heart. We'll discuss the opening of the heart at a different time, but for now just know it was a God thing. She had a visitor. It was the beginning of the opening of her heart. It was the visitor that convinced her to give him a chance, and let him move back into the house to work on their marriage. About 2 months ago when he moved back in, she had a dream. It was another dream about a tornado. This dream was different than the first dream she had. In this last dream, the tornado dissipated before it did any damage. She’d never given much thought to dreams, mostly because she never remembered what they were after she woke up. However, this dream was different. It was specific, and she couldn't get it out of her head when she woke up. It was a dream about a tornado, and it had left everything she loved alone. She knew God had put their marriage back on track. Debris from the storm is still flying around, but the tornado is gone.

Why do we let our relationships become a place where satan can wreak havoc in our lives? Why do we turn a blind eye to the storms brewing in our lives? Why does it seem our efforts are useless sometimes? Why can't we listen to the prompting of the Holy Spirit, give God a chance, and see what He can do?

The Eagle

Today I went to feed. As I was coming back from feeding the bull, there was a large bird sitting on an old dead tree in the pasture. It immediately got my undivided attention because of it's white head. I couldn't believe it, but there was a bald eagle sitting in a tree on our farm. I'd never been close to a bald eagle in the wild. I drove as fast as I could to the house to get my camera. I started taking pictures from a distance, because I was afraid it would get scared and fly off. I was driving our Kubota, and was able to get close enough to get some great shots of this magnificent creature. Our great pyrenees frightened him once, and he flew to another tree close by.  Cautiously, I drove as close as I could to get additional pictures. Again, our great pyrenees got too close to the tree and it flew off. This time I could not follow it. Bald eagles are not normally seen around this part of the state. I feel blessed to have gotten to the opportunity to see this bird so close.

"But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."  Isaiah 40:31

You can't see it in the picture, but the eagle is perched close to the top of the dead tree.

He 'really' cares

Labor Day weekend my mom and her husband, my sister and her husband, my aunt and her husband, and a good friend and her husband were all camping on the Sylamore River in Mountain View, AR. Earlier I had decided to ride up to visit. Tim, my husband, Kaden, my grandson, and myself headed out. We decided to go see Blanchard Springs Cavern before going to the campsite. My grandson had recently become interested in caves, and I thought this was the perfect opportunity to introduce him to a real cave. That morning we left home, and drove 2 1/2 hours straight to the cavern. We took the hour long walking tour to view and learn about the cave. After the tour of the cavern we decided to do a little fishing at Mirror Lake (located in the National Park). It was 95 degrees and sweat seemed to come from every pore of our body. We were happy to find a tree towering over the wooden pier. The shade from the tree helped a little, but it was still hot and sweaty. We fished about an hour, and didn't get single bite. Not having any luck at the fishing hole, we drove a few hundred feet to the natural spring that flows into Mirror Lake. The head of the spring was a short walking distance from the parking lot. The coolness rising from the natural spring made the walk pretty enjoyable. We spent a few minutes taking pictures of our grandson playing in the cool water, and headed back to the truck. The day was getting late, and we knew family would be gathering at the campsite. We decided to head to the campground to visit, and wait for supper. On the drive back, Tim reached behind his drivers seat and pulled out a bag. He reached into the bag, pulled out a tube of Old Spice Deodorant. He pointed it in my direction and said 'It don't matter to me, but you might consider using some of this before you get around those women at the campground'. I was caught by surprise! Was he telling me I stunk? He tried to assure me again by saying he didn't care what I smelled like, but using the deodorant might be a good thing to do. I tried to laugh his comment off, but finally took his gesture as being sincere. I took the deodorant, and applied to my armpits. I now smelled like a 'man', but at least I didn't smell like nasty armpit sweat. During the process of peri menopause, I have noticed my body odor being a little stronger than usual. I guess that day it was even stronger than I thought. My Women's Secret Deodorant had not held up. Tim, Kaden and I continued our drive back to the campground. It takes a gentleman to 'really' care, and tell you that you stink in such a kind and compassionate way. We got back to the campground, visited with the campers, and waited for supper. What a treat we had that night. The menu was a shrimp boil with all the trimmings. We ate until we about popped, and no one could smell the stink that had been radiating from my armpits a couple hours before. The Old Spice worked.

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Whoo Pig Souie

Spring of 2015 I took my first quilting class. It was by well known quilter and author, Debbie Caffrey. I was excited to attend and learn as much as I could. I practically knew nothing about quilting, and was a blank page waiting to be filled. Before classes began we were to purchase necessary fabric, tools, notions, and obtain a copy of the book that would be used during the class. I decided to make an Arkansas Razorback quilt for my oldest son. After getting all the required items, I was ready. During the class we went over each of the different quilt patterns in the book we could have chosen to do. Somewhere during the discussion I remember hearing the easier quilt patterns were found at the front of the book, and as you work your way towards the back of the book the harder and more difficult patterns were at the end. Evidently I did not get that memo, because I had chosen to make the very last pattern in the book. I was going to be making the most difficult pattern. What a task for a newby. I finished the quilt top a few months ago, and was proud of the Razorback theme on the quilt. I contemplated having someone else quilt it, and had even gone so far as to get a price for the job. In the end I decided to quilt it myself. It was a challenge! I am glad I decided to quilt it because was a gift for my oldest son's 29th birthday. Somehow it just meant more giving it to him knowing I had quilted it. My mom was gracious enough to sew the binding on, so a big thanks goes to her for helping me out.

The Prayer Rock

About 10 years ago I had an interest in making jewelry. I'd taken classes on making jewelry using raw materials such as silver, copper, and brass. Purchasing the metals in a sheet, cutting them, soldering them, polishing and buffing them you could form and create beautiful pieces of jewelry. It was an art form I greatly enjoyed. During that time I would shop on eBay for stones to set in the pieces I had made.  A couple purchases of stones I made were not of pre cut stones. They were stones still whole and uncut. I can't recall what prompted me to purchase the stones, because they would not have worked in the type of jewelry I was making. I ended up placing the stones in the console of my truck. One of the stones I began using as, what I'll call, 'my prayer rock'. The prayer rock stayed in my console for months. I would use it as a reminder to pray. Whenever I was in my truck and sitting idle, such as a stop sign, stop light, fast food joint, etc., I would take the rock in my hand and pray. The rock was smooth to the touch and was soothing to hold. Evidently when I cleaned out my console I removed the rock with all the other stuff from the console. The rock became missing for a while. Some time later the rock resurfaced, and once again I was comforted by the use of my prayer rock. Thru the past 10 years the little rock has somehow kept resurfacing. A few years ago I remember finding the rock outside. It was mashed down in dirt that once had been mud. I saw my rock, and of course I could not leave my prayer rock behind. It took some digging, but I retrieved my rock. Like I said the rock seems to keep resurfacing.... well, the rock has showed up recently. Somehow it has made it's way into my sewing room that is on the back side of my barn. The other day my grandson saw my rock and commented on it. Of course I had to tell him the story of 'my prayer rock', and the journey we had together. It must have struck a cord with him because he wanted to pray with my prayer rock. So, there in the middle of the sewing room we prayed. We have prayed more times since that first introduction of the prayer rock. The little rock is used with each of us holding an end of the rock as we pray.

Puppies

July 29 I found 7 precious puppies. Our Great Pyrenees had been expecting puppies. I couldn't find her for a couple days, and was worried about her. Then on the 29th she came walking up to the house, and it was obvious she was no longer pregnant. I followed her and found the beautiful puppies under a shed behind the house. They are now 5 weeks old, and just adorable. I wanted to share photos of them with all the other dog lovers out there.

We are all broken

Our Great Pyrenees are great dogs. I bought them to help protect the house. However, being true to their breed, they love to go scouting about and often roam. This past spring I decided to get a German Shepherd to do the task the Pyrenees seemed to be uninterested in. She is a beautiful black and tan German Shepherd. We named her Martha. She was growing and turning into a beautiful dog. One day my son came to the house, and as any puppy will do, Martha got too close to the truck. Her left rear foot got run over. From the injury it looked like her foot got stuck under the tire, and she tried to pull her foot out. The injury to her foot was so severe it de-gloved her foot. Not only was her foot damaged, but her hip was broken. After a trip to the vet, she spent the night to wait until surgery the next day. After I received a call with a quote for the 2 surgeries (one for the foot and one later for the hip), I told the vet I probably just needed to put her down. I was devastated. I'd never made a decision to put a dog to sleep before, but the expenses were enormous to save the leg. The tech on the phone, giving me the quote, asked me to consider amputating the leg. She said many dogs do just fine with 3 legs. I told her I would think about it. After hanging up a thought kept running thru my head 'we are all broken in some way or another'.  'We are all broken in some way or another' just kept playing in my mind, and after one more phone call I decided to have Martha's leg amputated. Even now when I see Martha, or someone comments about her having 3 legs, I keep thinking 'we are all broken in some way or another'. She was a dog worth saving, and we are people worth saving (even broken). Christ is the source of fixing our brokenness.
Martha is a great dog. Her registered name is 'Mighty Martha'. She truly is a treasure, even broken. I took my grandson to Bentonville, AR to Amazeum (a children's museum). On the way up he went to sleep, and slept for about 2 hours. When he woke up, he asked if we were about there. I told him we were getting close. He said 'I'm missing Martha already'.

Long Arm University, Seattle

Getting a Gammill Long Arm Quilting Machine set up and running was only half the battle. I needed to know how to operate it. Searching for Long Arm schools I came across Long Arm University, Seattle, WA. It sounded like an adventure to a part of our beautiful country I'd never been to before. I enrolled for the class, got my airline reservation, and was ready to go.

Having arranged my schedule to leave a day early, I planned to have some time to do a little site seeing. Before leaving home I was looking on-line for local tourist attractions. I settled for whale watching. I was going to see (Orca's) killer whales!! I chose a small boat with a maximum of 6 whale watchers to get a more personal experience. After arriving at the hotel on the first night, I looked on my computer to see where I would be driving the next morning to get on the boat. To my surprise, it showed the drive to be 3 1/2 hours away!! Oh-my, I hadn't done enough research when I booked the tour. I had a difficult time deciding if I wanted to drive 3 1/2 (three and one-half) hours one way to see whales. I text my sister to whine, and asked her if the drive would be worth it. She said 'yes'. I thought she was nuts! I made up my mind to go, with her encouragement. I was dreading the drive. After texting her I got on-line to see if there was a shorter way. I found a ferry going to Friday Harbor, where the tour was at. The ferry was about 2 1/4 hours from me. I could catch the ferry, shorten my drive, and ride it to Friday Harbor where I needed to get on the boat. Problem solved! I made reservations for the 8:30 AM ferry. I would leave at 5:45 - 6:00. The next morning I woke up suddenly, and felt like I was late. I looked at my clock, and my alarm had not gone off. I mistakenly set it for PM, instead of AM. I was already late, but I headed out anyway. I set my google map for Anacortes Ferry, and took off. Morning traffic in Seattle is bumper to bumper. I was getting further behind schedule, but kept going. Arriving in Anacortes Ferry at 8:26. I figured I was too late. I pulled up at the pay booth, and told the attendant I had a reservation for the 8:30 ferry. She said I was just in time, but there wasn't enough time for me to ask questions. I'd never been on a ferry before. She motioned me toward a line of cars. I pulled to the end of the line just as it was loading onto the ferry. Once our line of cars loaded, the gate to the ferry closed, and the ferry took off from the dock! I had made it! (God watches out for those who can't watch out for themselves). I got out of my car, and walked up to the passenger lounge. After walking around checking out the ferry, I found a couple of women (looked like kindred spirit) sitting on some benches. I sat across from them, and started a conversation. We talked for a while, and I told them I came to Seattle to learn how to operate my Long Arm Quilting Machine. To my pleasant surprise, they quilted also. Now I know why I felt a kindred spirit with them (God makes wonderful women in every corner of this great country). We had a great visit. At one time during the conversation I told them about my luck in finding the ferry because I was going to have to drive 3 1/2 hours to see the whales. At my astonishment, they began to laugh. They informed me the ferry was 'the only way' to get to Friday Harbor, and there was no road. They assured me I could not drive to Friday Harbor!! (God watches out for those who cannot watch out for themselves). I enjoyed Friday Harbor and the whales. It was an adventurous day. I made it back safely to the hotel, and was exhausted.

Classes began Friday morning, and ended Monday afternoon. There is no way to tell all that we were taught. It was 4 days packed with tons of information. Everything from loading the bobbins, patterns, thread, business cards, work orders, fabric quality, dealing with difficult customers, binding, templates, etc.  It was definitely information overload. I met 4 wonderful women also interested in long arm quilting. Some of the ladies had machines, and some were just checking out the possibility. Each of us was at a different place in our quilting journey, but each of us had passion for the quilting process. It was a great group of women! Our teacher, Cindy Roth, made each of us feel right at home. The classes were in the most perfect atmosphere, at her kitchen table. Cindy opened up her home, and treated each of us like we belonged there. Such a relaxing way to conduct class. The added benefit I was not expecting, was at the conclusion of classes Cindy provided each of us with cd's to refer back to when we had questions about anything taught. What a great gesture and a great treasure. Instant information when we run into a problem.
Longarm University, Seattle, WA

If I were someone considering getting a longarm, or if I had a longarm, I would seriously consider attending the Longarm University classes. The days are packed with information from educated instructors that have been in the business for years. They can answer any question you have about a longarm business. It is an all inclusive set of classes for anyone considering a longarm business, or just anyone wanting to learn about the longarm machine.