Archives for category: Animals

Welcome. We are glad to meet you.
We welcomed 2014 with fires indoors and out. Gathering the wood for the outside fire was especially soulful for me. While not the same, it is similar to taking food from Nature. I am grateful for the trees.


We enjoyed our traditional meal of ham (baked this year), hoppin’ John, and greens. I don’t know that any of us really believes that these foods will bring us health, fortune, or wealth. I do think we each enjoy knowing what to really expect a few days a year, New Year’s Day being one of those.



We began our Three Kings Day conversations. We welcomed our newly made kings to the table with some folded stars and the Christ Candle from our Advent Spiral. We are grateful for the Light that led those Kings to honor a sweet baby king. We’ve only talked (and occasionally baked) about the day in the past years. I’m hoping it is something more memorable as we move into this new year.



Rest is where our bodies and hearts are headed now. Rest.














Our Christmas seasons can be fraught with gift needs and wants, places to be, people to see. There are gifts wants and needs and people we would like to see, but no fraught (fret?). Not this year.


I grew up in a family with faults far too numerous to count and far too in the past now to dredge. But there were some really cool things, too, that I have chosen to carry into this moment in my life. Like the sincere appreciation for homemade gifts. So, many years I make some if not all of the gifts even when I know they are not appreciated. I had the recipient in mind through the process and so the gift is a piece of me on behalf of my family.



This year there are not so many homemade things. I don’t know why. There just isn’t. And it’s OK. I’m not in the least bothered by it as I would have been in the past. I don’t know why. I’m OK with not knowing why.


My Husband comes about the holidays in a different way than I do. He likes to go and look a half dozen times and then pick up a few things here and there. Stealing a piece of a text with my Sister …

That’s a big part of what gets his mind in the right place for the holidays. Funny how I just want to be home and bake and make while he wants to be out and about. This year, for the first year, I am perfectly OK with whatever. I have no stress. So odd and awesome at the same time.

And I am OK with that. This year. Typically I get my granny panties all wadded up over it. Not this year. I don’t know why not this year, but not this year.


As I type this I am just laughing at myself. There is a brief squabble over what color the next loom band ornament should be. There is a science experiment debate over proper microscope management and there is a miniature schnauzer in desperate need of a good grooming on my lap. It’s comical. And I’m all good with that.


I am grateful for the odd and awesome.

And I must.

My heart is tugging on me to blog but I can’t keep my thoughts in one direction enough to know what I really want to blog. So I’ll just lay down what is on my mind at this moment.

I just processed the meat from the buck Reade took. I am grateful I know how to do that and have the experience from last year with my Husband to know what to do by myself this year. I should have involved Reade, but really this was just one of those things that I had been putting off and today seemed like a good day to do it, so why bother with extra hands? I know I shortchanged him.

While cleaning up the blood on the grinder, counter, and sink, I was reminded of Walt’s leg wound and how no doctor ever said anything about it in the show. You see, I am not much of a TV person and would truly be fine if the TV disappeared before the end of this post. Yet there is this show my Husband and I have recently started watching. He was up early over the weekend and flipping through the Apple TV and decided to watch the Breaking Bad pilot. I watched the next episode the next morning with him before the kids woke. And, well, a few very early mornings with coffee, together we have watched almost all of Season 1. I will not say I “love” it as I do not love any television. However, it is very engaging. Only because the characters could possibly real people.

And that thought of the horrors, very real ones in their own way, of that show lead me to think of my recent reading of The Hunger Games. I didn’t think I’d ever read it much less want the kids to read it. But the oldest received a Nook for Christmas and the only thing he wanted to read on it was that damn book. After a few weeks, I caved. And read it very quickly. As did I. And we were able to discuss it along the way and even now as he is into the next book. I still think it is a WRETCHED story and in my opinion its only redeeming value is its anti-government themes. I can even relate the fictional stories as real-right-now-happening-to-us moments regarding the Capitol and the Gamemakers. But those are children. It is the most distasteful thing I have ever read. I cannot get over the fact that it has won so many children’s book awards. That honestly disgusts me. And it disgusts me that my two oldest have read it. Honestly, I have shame.

And if it were possible to have covered my eyes and ears through much of the book, I would have. Just like I do in many parts of Breaking Bad.

See, I am not a violent person as the government tried to convince the public that anarchists are. I can’t watch movies like Fight Club, Nightmare on Elm Street, or even Apocalypse Now. Not that only violent people like to watch those things. I just don’t. I don’t like to read or see fictional things when people are struggling with physical or moral challenges. I won’t even read the book where the man interviews a dying man. I won’t do it. There are plenty of real life, everyday moments where suffering must be endured… knowing a precious friend suffered a tremendous loss in death. knowing I couldn’t keep a loved one from suffering in death longer than she wanted. knowing that people cannot be mended. knowing that the end of today will bring one less day with my family. knowing that my government wants to enslave me in a tighter cell than I am already in. knowing that my President and much of the elected class despises me and everything that I believe to the depth of my soul.

Why would I seek more pain? Why would I intentionally subject myself to such horror?

And now, after all those words…as I see the sky darkening and outdoor chores left to be done…my words are gone. All I can think of at this moment is this song…

There is Victory in Jesus

{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your moment here and look for others at SouleMama.


Today is Thanksgiving. I am simply grateful. Our sweet family is here together relaxing and enjoying what has been gifted us by our Creator.

The food is ready for its final cooking/baking.

Beef Rib Roast
Smoked Ham
BBQ Green Beans
Mam-Maw Squash Casserole
Sweet Potato Cassserole
Corn Pudding
Sausage Dressing
Mam-Maw Biscuits

I am on the deck sitting in the sun knitting.

Sawyer is beside me doodling in his new doodle book gifted him by Xan.

Rebekah Anne is sitting with me also, working on her first complete cross-stitch project.

Kelly Mae was sitting with me and quizzing me (translate “ribbing me”) about my inability to Black Friday shop. But she has moved onto the barn with the others.

The others are at the barn with my Husband helping Reade set up to flesh the deer hide from his hunt this morning.

It is quiet. Simply quiet. I am simply grateful.


{this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your moment here and look for others at SouleMama.


This morning I ran into town to pick up a kitten from the vet. Sailor had managed to get into the fishing gear and get a fish hook in the paw. Poor fella.

We came home, I watched him reacquaint with his siblings and mom and then decided that at that moment, while the house was still quiet, I would feed the horses. So, wisely, I switched shoes to a pair I wear into the barn and I watered and fed the horses and set hay out in the pasture.

It sounds simple and clean enough. And it can be. But not usually. It does mean walking through gates, or if you’re lazy like me, crawling through fences, avoiding mud, getting hay down from the loft and scattering it in piles in the pasture.

Got the job done. Put away the tools, made sure the feed bins were closed. Then realized what I was wearing.


Good pink shorts and a white linen long sleeved top. Yes. White linen. Oh well. I think it’s still clean.

Last December we welcomed into our home a homeless young female. Well, as so many young people who are given a hand up, she turned it into a lifetime of dependence when she got knocked up at about 5 months old. Really.

But with a lot of love, understanding, and attention, she birthed 5 kittens. 3 white, 2 black. The father should be easy to find.

About 3am, Kelly Mae, midwife to the animal world, was “…shaking. It’s like Christmas!” Blackie had laid down beside her on the sofa and had birthed her first three. After I gently scooped Blackie and her babies up and placed them all in her bed, Kelly Mae made a pallet and continued gently encouraging her.

All 6 will be spayed/neutered earlier than the vet-recommended 6 months. Short generations run in families. Ask me how I know.

And I’m going to now put those two freshly-washed sofa cushions in today’s strong sun.



I am home alone. I cannot think of too many times this has happened in the 12 plus years since Reade was born.

My Husband was finishing up some bush-hogging and I had just finished making some hors d’ourves and had set them on the patio table when he came in and said he had to leave and any child that wanted to go and could fit in the truck could go. He is taking a piece of equipment to his dad. I think it is his dad’s PTO. I am not really sure. Sadly, they have lost a sweet pet and that pet must be buried.
That’s what we do here. We bury our pets. We have had very gracious people help us when we needed a big grave for a horse or a delicate grave for our precious Hydro. My heart immediately hurt for my Husband’s father and mother. And for the dog they still have. She will miss her companion.
So, while Reade and Mike moved the tractor thing and started the truck, the girls gathered some wild flowers from the edges of the yard. We set them in a sweet cobalt blue glass bottle Kelly Mae found while digging below the dam and we tied a sweet little piece of ribbon with hearts on it. It’s only a token nothing, but genuine no less. And I said good-bye to them all with, “Be reverent.”

And so that’s how I am home alone. It’s so quiet. I decided to document the moment by grabbing the laptop and bringing it outside. I am listening to crickets and frogs. The sun is getting lower. The sky is a bit overcast. Rain is forecasted for the three or four days ahead. And I am home alone.

Knitting around kitten a real challenge.