Snug in the covers of sleep and dreams, I felt the warm wet spread slowly across my naked stomach. The dream being too real life, I grabbed the top of the sheet as I tried to roll over. Meeting resistant and acknowledging the weight on my chest and stomach, I slowly opened my eyes. The golden eyes staring back at me were inquisitive and demanding. Startled, I screamed, flinging the bed covers across the room. What was that? Where did it come from? Why was my stomach wet? That odor was horrible and was that poop on my bed? Where did that animal go? The demon cat had arrived and we did not start out on a good note.
I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to clear my head of sleep and get my body in motion for the day. Was that really a cat on my chest this early? Looking around at the scattered bed clothes, the stench of cat urine hit my nose along with the strong poop smell. Gathering the bed clothes, I headed to the laundry, dumping my load into the bleach filled hot water. How in the world did a cat get in the house and where did it come from? We did not have a cat. I headed for a hot shower to remove the waste from my skin, cautiously watching for the varmint that deposited its load of waste on me and the bed.
I heard a strange screech from under the bed. Yes, it was a cat. As I scrubbed from top to bottom, I remembered that Hubby and Friend were turkey hunting this morning. That meant hubby had left early and should be home around lunch. Did Friend bring a cat along this morning? Friend had several cats, but he would never part with them. Where did this cat come from?
Getting dressed and restarting the washer - I was going to make sure these sheets were clean, I started breakfast. Yep, there it was - an empty can of cat food sitting on the counter and an empty dish on the floor. So, friend had come bringing gifts this morning. I returned to the bathroom to check for a litter box. Nope food for the stomach, but no depository for the waste. I finished my breakfast and headed to the barn for a litter box.
I was still contemplating the cat under the bed, not quite ready to get down there and welcome the devil feline that had used me for its litter box this morning. I remembered seeing black and white and those beautiful gold eyes. I am a cat lover. There isn't much more I can say - I love cats. They are warm, cuddly and soothing to the mind and body. You cannot make a cat a pet, but a cat can make you his master.
I heard the car as it started up the drive and started out to meet Hubby and Friend. Friend put Hubby out way down the driveway - I wasn't aware that I was yelling like a banshee, but something must have tipped them off. Friend was gone in a minute and Hubby was walking slowly to the house with head down and shuffling feet. "I guess you found the cat?" Well, you could say that. "No, the cat found me!" That crazy grin never left his face. He had found me a present and was so proud. He just didn't think past his nose.
Hubby had told me of the cat that was found in the bath house of the park where he worked. The lights, motion activated, would come on and off at night and he went in search of the villain. It took several nights, but Hubby found the cat in the bath house and Friend took him home. Friend's other cats never accepted the new feline, so he made him a gift to Hubby.
That was just the beginning of me and the demon cat. Named Oscar, called Big O (for big old cat), this cat grew to be huge. Armed with deadly claws and long fangs, he has ruled home and hearth for many years. He lived inside for many years. When he started slapping my ankles from under the bed, bringing blood and leaving ugly gashes, we made him an outdoor cat. Weaving between your legs, Oscar would give you one chance to answer his request for a rub, if ignored, he would bite whatever was was close, fangs digging in deep with claws bared and ready for a fight. We were here for him and when he demanded attention, we were to respond. It has been a real trip for us and Oscar.
Oscar is probably the sneakiest cat that has claimed us. He can still enter the house undetected to be found curled in the closet, under a chest or out of sight in a corner upstairs. He can slip in and out quietly, quickly, and unseen.
Not long ago I opened the feed room door to find Oscar stalking a squirrel - well, the squirrel was in the feed box chowing down on the chicken scratch and Oscar was watching him intently. When the door opened, Oscar pounced, the squirrel jumped on me, I screamed and the squirrel disappeared up the wall of the barn. Oscar returned to his position of guarding the feed box as if nothing had happened, but looking at me as if I had really messed things up.
Oscar and Baby Red (our "put out" dog) got along tremendously. Oscar slept on Red's back for many years and when Red died this past Spring, Oscar mourned him greatly, going off food for more than a week and refusing to sleep at night. He roamed and screeched at night, sleeping during the day. I destroyed their pallet when Red died and replaced it with a smaller one, which Oscar refuses. Oscar still makes a morning trip to Red's grave to start his day.
Oscar and the chihuahuas do not get along at all. Zero and Sandy snap at Oscar's behind and Oscar slaps Zero and Sandy across the porch. With four years of snapping and slapping you would think they would at least learn to tolerate each other, but it hasn't happened. I think maybe there is too much age difference.
Strange as this old cat is, he is gentle as a lamb with the babies. He follows my angels around and finds a good spot to lay and watch them play, guarding them closely. He has been dressed in bonnets, socks, and shirts with no problem and seems to enjoy the attention of my angels.
We don't know Oscar's age. He was found in 1996 making him at least 13 years old. He doesn't run and leap with the same vigor, but can still catch a squirrel and once in a while brings me a bird. We know he won't be with us for many more years. The animals that have been discarded by others seem to make the better pet. No, we didn't start out on the best of terms, but we have been down a long road together. Oscar is not my favorite pet and I haven't forgotten our tumultuous start, but he has been a blessing to our family.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Bugs
For four and a half months, we have played, worked, rested and eaten on our porch with mosquitoes and flies. Here comes the middle of August and the spiders show up everywhere - inside and outside. Why? Are they getting ready for Fall. I hate walking along and having that icky web catch me across the face or arm. It gives me the hibby jibbies.
Late summer always bring the sugar ants and the spiders out. I am ready for a good frost!
Late summer always bring the sugar ants and the spiders out. I am ready for a good frost!
Monday, August 24, 2009
The Stalker
The fear never left her. Why couldn't they go away and leave her alone?
Read a taste of a novel I am working on - click on the title.
Read a taste of a novel I am working on - click on the title.
Update on Belles Farm
I stepped out on the porch this morning and was met with a cool fresh feeling on my skin. The autumn is slowly moving on us, bringing the cool mornings and hot days. I don't know that I am ready as winter is not my favorite season. There is never enough green in the winter - the dead season. That is probably why I love my cedars - they provide the green of life and growing in the bleak cold days of winter.
I am getting the ground ready to plant my late summer garden. I am ready for the greens and I am replanting the squash. My tomatoes are looking spiny as they always do at season's end. I have pruned them and will give them a good drink with fertilizer today. I have taken several cuttings from these tomatoes and started the upside down baskets with them. The plant are a beautiful dark green with loads of blooms and several small tomatoes growing. I look forward to having tomatoes a little longer this year.
Today is shrub moving day. I have several shrubs that need to be moved and I want to do it now rather than waiting until spring so the roots can recover during the winter dormant season. I have moved my lamb's ear and tried to gather all the errant seedlings into one nice spot. Lamb's ear spreads like wild fire with all the little seeds scattered throughout the yard and small ears poking up everywhere. Hopefully I have contained most of them at least until the next breeze scatters more seeds.
My Althea has bloomed more this year than any time in memory. The violet seems to be competing with the rose colored bush and the race is neck in neck, but I do believe the rose is winning. My sunflowers are beautiful. The heads large and ready to open in the next week. I only have a few plants as I seem to be feeding all the foul in the county with every seed that goes in the ground.
My pear trees have not produced this year as well as in the past, but the fruit is still large, sweet and juicy. The squirrels love the blooms in late winter. Climbing high in the trees, they sit and crunch the center of the blooms leaving a blanket of white under the trees. I plan to have a large pot of squirrel dumplings this winter. They have ravaged my fruit trees, tomatoes, bird feeders and chicken feed. I have some expensive squirrels in my yard that will make for good eating.
I am getting an egg a day from one of my little hens. I hope that all three will be laying soon, but cooler temperatures are coming and will be lucky to continue with the one a day. The neighbors chicken has hatched two biddies, but only one lived. The tiny thing chases her around the yard, hiding in the tall grass at the edge of the wood when I go out for feeding. They are so fun to watch and the old red rooster is as protective as the mother hen. My own rooster started crowing this weekend and he sounds so funny. Rather high pitched for the first few days, he now has a strong tone. So far his clock is set right - the other starts crowing at 2:30 in the morning.
The writing is coming along, but I have been busy for a couple of weeks and not able to attend as I need. Keep me in your prayers.
Belle
I am getting the ground ready to plant my late summer garden. I am ready for the greens and I am replanting the squash. My tomatoes are looking spiny as they always do at season's end. I have pruned them and will give them a good drink with fertilizer today. I have taken several cuttings from these tomatoes and started the upside down baskets with them. The plant are a beautiful dark green with loads of blooms and several small tomatoes growing. I look forward to having tomatoes a little longer this year.
Today is shrub moving day. I have several shrubs that need to be moved and I want to do it now rather than waiting until spring so the roots can recover during the winter dormant season. I have moved my lamb's ear and tried to gather all the errant seedlings into one nice spot. Lamb's ear spreads like wild fire with all the little seeds scattered throughout the yard and small ears poking up everywhere. Hopefully I have contained most of them at least until the next breeze scatters more seeds.
My Althea has bloomed more this year than any time in memory. The violet seems to be competing with the rose colored bush and the race is neck in neck, but I do believe the rose is winning. My sunflowers are beautiful. The heads large and ready to open in the next week. I only have a few plants as I seem to be feeding all the foul in the county with every seed that goes in the ground.
My pear trees have not produced this year as well as in the past, but the fruit is still large, sweet and juicy. The squirrels love the blooms in late winter. Climbing high in the trees, they sit and crunch the center of the blooms leaving a blanket of white under the trees. I plan to have a large pot of squirrel dumplings this winter. They have ravaged my fruit trees, tomatoes, bird feeders and chicken feed. I have some expensive squirrels in my yard that will make for good eating.
I am getting an egg a day from one of my little hens. I hope that all three will be laying soon, but cooler temperatures are coming and will be lucky to continue with the one a day. The neighbors chicken has hatched two biddies, but only one lived. The tiny thing chases her around the yard, hiding in the tall grass at the edge of the wood when I go out for feeding. They are so fun to watch and the old red rooster is as protective as the mother hen. My own rooster started crowing this weekend and he sounds so funny. Rather high pitched for the first few days, he now has a strong tone. So far his clock is set right - the other starts crowing at 2:30 in the morning.
The writing is coming along, but I have been busy for a couple of weeks and not able to attend as I need. Keep me in your prayers.
Belle
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Skinny Dipping
Yes my grandchildren will exclaim, "Oh Nanna, How gross!" and I will laugh because the thought of my grandparents skinny dipping is hilarious and embarrassing and sad - all at the same time. It is just one of those things that you really don't want to envision. They don't seem to understand that at one time you were not gray haired, with a jelly belly roll around your middle, you didn't always have that fat sling under your arm and, no, those blue and red broken veins did not always cover your legs. At one time you looked really good in a two piece swimsuit. Hard to believe, isn't it?
About twenty three years ago, hubby and I had the urge to ramble for a day. It was a perfect summer day and we had a few hours before we had to start our Wednesday night women's pool tournament. We headed to the Flint River at Spewell Bluff. It has always been one of our favorite spots. We enjoyed walking the woods, climbing the mountain and swimming to the boulder.
We stopped at the convenience store and got a Coke and a pack of crackers and headed up to the bluff. We stopped at the lookout enjoying the view of the river. The dark thread of water ran around and through the mountain over the rocks and disappeared into the trees. Higher than the hawks that were searching the river for food, we sat and watched - so much to see and oh so peaceful. From our viewpoint we could see no one on the river. We made our way up and down the mountain road and entered the park. There were no cars around and it looked as if we had the river and the park to ourselves. This was very unusual as the Bluff is a favorite during the summer months.
We started walking and listening. The river was beautiful and everything was so quiet. We had a favorite spot we liked to sit in the rocks and let the water rushed over and around us, but today we didn't come to swim. We just wanted a few hours of peace and quiet. We walked around the point and up the edge of the mountain. Sitting down on the rocks, we watch the river as it rushed over the rocks and around the bend. It didn't look as calm at the edge as it had from the lookout, but was still beautiful.
I was wishing I had brought my suit and so had hubby. It had really gotten warm and the water was very inviting. With no one else in the park and no fisherman on the river, we decided to sit in the rocks in the buff. Shucking off our clothes we walked across the rocks to our favorite spot and settled in. The water felt so good rushing over us, pounding our shoulders and back, giving us a good massage while calming our weary minds and bodies. Relaxed and close to sleep, we head the talking. Modest me automatically went into a panic. Hubby told me to just sit still, no one could see anything but out heads and the fishermen would just go on by. I had settled down by the time the boat rounded the bend just to really panic when a voice over my head said "Hold up there. I need to check your license." Where in the world that game warden came from, I will never know, nor how long he had stood over us waiting on the boar to appear. See, I told you we were relaxed!
The fishermen - my father-in-law and brother-in-law - instantly recognizes us and while motoring over to the game warden decided to sit and chat a while. I couldn't move. Hubby finally advised that he didn't mean to be rude, but that Dad and Brother really needed to move on down the river. Brother realized what the problem was and could not stop laughing. Dad looking hurt and confused kept repeating "okay son, okay." The game warden tipped his hat, commented on the weather, an bid us a good day. Still not sure we were alone once more, it took hubby quite a while to get me to come out of the water.
What had been one of the most peaceful days I could ever remember turned into a mass of confusion and panic. It still is fresh in my mind 23 years later and as I am sitting here writing the story my face is blushed and my heart beat accelerated. Many years later, hubby served with the same game warden. Gentleman that he is, he never mentioned the incident. Thank you, Mr. Gore!
About twenty three years ago, hubby and I had the urge to ramble for a day. It was a perfect summer day and we had a few hours before we had to start our Wednesday night women's pool tournament. We headed to the Flint River at Spewell Bluff. It has always been one of our favorite spots. We enjoyed walking the woods, climbing the mountain and swimming to the boulder.
We stopped at the convenience store and got a Coke and a pack of crackers and headed up to the bluff. We stopped at the lookout enjoying the view of the river. The dark thread of water ran around and through the mountain over the rocks and disappeared into the trees. Higher than the hawks that were searching the river for food, we sat and watched - so much to see and oh so peaceful. From our viewpoint we could see no one on the river. We made our way up and down the mountain road and entered the park. There were no cars around and it looked as if we had the river and the park to ourselves. This was very unusual as the Bluff is a favorite during the summer months.
We started walking and listening. The river was beautiful and everything was so quiet. We had a favorite spot we liked to sit in the rocks and let the water rushed over and around us, but today we didn't come to swim. We just wanted a few hours of peace and quiet. We walked around the point and up the edge of the mountain. Sitting down on the rocks, we watch the river as it rushed over the rocks and around the bend. It didn't look as calm at the edge as it had from the lookout, but was still beautiful.
I was wishing I had brought my suit and so had hubby. It had really gotten warm and the water was very inviting. With no one else in the park and no fisherman on the river, we decided to sit in the rocks in the buff. Shucking off our clothes we walked across the rocks to our favorite spot and settled in. The water felt so good rushing over us, pounding our shoulders and back, giving us a good massage while calming our weary minds and bodies. Relaxed and close to sleep, we head the talking. Modest me automatically went into a panic. Hubby told me to just sit still, no one could see anything but out heads and the fishermen would just go on by. I had settled down by the time the boat rounded the bend just to really panic when a voice over my head said "Hold up there. I need to check your license." Where in the world that game warden came from, I will never know, nor how long he had stood over us waiting on the boar to appear. See, I told you we were relaxed!
The fishermen - my father-in-law and brother-in-law - instantly recognizes us and while motoring over to the game warden decided to sit and chat a while. I couldn't move. Hubby finally advised that he didn't mean to be rude, but that Dad and Brother really needed to move on down the river. Brother realized what the problem was and could not stop laughing. Dad looking hurt and confused kept repeating "okay son, okay." The game warden tipped his hat, commented on the weather, an bid us a good day. Still not sure we were alone once more, it took hubby quite a while to get me to come out of the water.
What had been one of the most peaceful days I could ever remember turned into a mass of confusion and panic. It still is fresh in my mind 23 years later and as I am sitting here writing the story my face is blushed and my heart beat accelerated. Many years later, hubby served with the same game warden. Gentleman that he is, he never mentioned the incident. Thank you, Mr. Gore!
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Shirtless in the Garden
Aunt's can cause all kinds of problems, talk you into doing most anything and be proud as plum with results.
Click on the title above to read my story.
Click on the title above to read my story.
News Bulletin!!!!
That precious chicken is not a chicken - it is a rooster! No wonder he keeps getting out - everyone knows the male species has to roam!
Now I don't worry so much - he can always find a way back in the hen house!
Now I don't worry so much - he can always find a way back in the hen house!
Thursday, August 6, 2009
One of my precious chickens has found an escape and will not stay in the pen. I have watched her and searched to find the loose spot to no avail. She has me whooped! I think the beautiful rooster from next door has taunted her into misbehaving and he is probably my problem. See - it is always temptation that is to blame never the guilty party. But I am not sure God gave chickens a choice - they just act on instinct. Come to think of it, a lot of humans are that way too; they have returned to their baser nature and their animalistic tendencies show themselves causing all thought or reason go out the window. Anyway the blasted chicken is out and I can't get her in. All prayers are appreciated.
My tomatoes are still going strong and the pepper plants are loaded. I hope that the rain over the earlier part of the week helped everyone else's garden as well.
I have spent the day cleaning out my book collection and trying to decide which ones to get rid of. Yes, I am selling some books. Some of you know that I never give up a book. I still have my geography book from the 4th grade that Mom and Dad had to buy because a couple of pages got torn. Well, I have it at any rate. It has been hard for me today; I can find more reasons to hang on to those books than to get rid of them. The only problem is, I can't get in my dining room with all the books on the floor, buffet, table, and anything that will hold a book. I have multiple copies of some of them, so those are easy.
I have to make a choice and that is never easy for me when it comes to books. I want them all. I do the same things with greeting cards. I have stacks of those stored away and there are days I pull them out and just let the memories flow.
Well, the waiting is killing me! The manuscripts are submitted and I am waiting. Here's to hoping it want take as long as it has in the last few months. Again, all prayers are needed. Thanks for the visit and appreciate you letting me vent. Til next time - Love to all!
Belle
My tomatoes are still going strong and the pepper plants are loaded. I hope that the rain over the earlier part of the week helped everyone else's garden as well.
I have spent the day cleaning out my book collection and trying to decide which ones to get rid of. Yes, I am selling some books. Some of you know that I never give up a book. I still have my geography book from the 4th grade that Mom and Dad had to buy because a couple of pages got torn. Well, I have it at any rate. It has been hard for me today; I can find more reasons to hang on to those books than to get rid of them. The only problem is, I can't get in my dining room with all the books on the floor, buffet, table, and anything that will hold a book. I have multiple copies of some of them, so those are easy.
I have to make a choice and that is never easy for me when it comes to books. I want them all. I do the same things with greeting cards. I have stacks of those stored away and there are days I pull them out and just let the memories flow.
Well, the waiting is killing me! The manuscripts are submitted and I am waiting. Here's to hoping it want take as long as it has in the last few months. Again, all prayers are needed. Thanks for the visit and appreciate you letting me vent. Til next time - Love to all!
Belle
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
In A Funk
Yeah, I am in a funk. My thoughts are a bit scrambled right now, and my energy level is at a 5 on a scale of 1-10. I think maybe the ups and downs of the heat are the major cause.
The garden is like most mid summer gardens - just growing - not anything spectacular, but still producing squash, cabbage, okra, tomatoes, and peppers. Cucumbers are not doing a thing and I blame that on the erratic rain fall. The ground is drying out too much between the showers and the sun is hot as hades. I am waiting till late afternoon to turn some dirt for the late summer greens and decide on a spot for the potatoes. It is time to get them in the ground but as we have a real late frost, it will be okay.
It is really sad that we let the joy of the first shoots breaking the ground dissipate and the garden flourishes and we become apathetic in the harvest and maintenance. Melancholy, that is what I am today. Yesterday was a day of joy and today - melancholy.
The summer flowers are beautiful and all but the weakest are blooming with gusto. I can hardly see my gazing ball as the cosmos has grown so tall and thick as to shade it from view. The sunflowers are reaching for the hot sun and getting taller and taller. I know it is not the time, but I moved 2 elephant ears to a spot in my backyard garden. They had almost died from lack of sun and are not a deep green and putting out new growth. Right time or not, that was a good move.
I dropped by a local store the other day and they have dropped the prices on all seeds to a dime a pack. Good time to pick up some, put in the freezer and have ready for that early garden next spring. There were lots of different varieties of lettuce which can be container grown throughout the winter. I have a nice section of porch on the north side of the house that is protected from blowing winds and rain. It is the perfect place to winter the plants (covered of course) and to keep some nice winter container crops. Doesn't get any sun though so I have to move them during the week to the east side to keep them going.
On another subject-
My grandchildren are growing up and developing wonderful personalities. I have had such a pleasant summer with my grandchildren. The oldest girl ask me on Saturday why they were called grand children. My reply - because you are so great! On her last visit, she kissed the top on my head and told me I was beautiful - and everyone wonders why I love having them around! Can't wait till they come back!
Belle
The garden is like most mid summer gardens - just growing - not anything spectacular, but still producing squash, cabbage, okra, tomatoes, and peppers. Cucumbers are not doing a thing and I blame that on the erratic rain fall. The ground is drying out too much between the showers and the sun is hot as hades. I am waiting till late afternoon to turn some dirt for the late summer greens and decide on a spot for the potatoes. It is time to get them in the ground but as we have a real late frost, it will be okay.
It is really sad that we let the joy of the first shoots breaking the ground dissipate and the garden flourishes and we become apathetic in the harvest and maintenance. Melancholy, that is what I am today. Yesterday was a day of joy and today - melancholy.
The summer flowers are beautiful and all but the weakest are blooming with gusto. I can hardly see my gazing ball as the cosmos has grown so tall and thick as to shade it from view. The sunflowers are reaching for the hot sun and getting taller and taller. I know it is not the time, but I moved 2 elephant ears to a spot in my backyard garden. They had almost died from lack of sun and are not a deep green and putting out new growth. Right time or not, that was a good move.
I dropped by a local store the other day and they have dropped the prices on all seeds to a dime a pack. Good time to pick up some, put in the freezer and have ready for that early garden next spring. There were lots of different varieties of lettuce which can be container grown throughout the winter. I have a nice section of porch on the north side of the house that is protected from blowing winds and rain. It is the perfect place to winter the plants (covered of course) and to keep some nice winter container crops. Doesn't get any sun though so I have to move them during the week to the east side to keep them going.
On another subject-
My grandchildren are growing up and developing wonderful personalities. I have had such a pleasant summer with my grandchildren. The oldest girl ask me on Saturday why they were called grand children. My reply - because you are so great! On her last visit, she kissed the top on my head and told me I was beautiful - and everyone wonders why I love having them around! Can't wait till they come back!
Belle
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Memories of Bicycles
Remember the days when you ran out the back door, grabbed your bike and didn't come home until you were hungry?
Remember the feeling of the wind blowing in your face and the breeze created from you riding was enough to keep you cool?
Remember the smells as you rode - the honeysuckle blooms, the wisteria, even the wild onion in the pasture?
We never got tired, my sister and I. We rode all day and never got tired. They was always something new to find while riding, a frog trying to escape our poking and prodding, a snake skin left in the ditch, katydids hiding in the grass, and after a good rain, a turtle slowly crossing the road. There was always something to find that would hold our interest for hours.
We would race like crazy from one field road to the next. It didn't matter the type of bike or even the brand, it was always the strongest legs that won the race. The roads were dirt and there wasn't any concrete for miles. Riding on hard packed dirt and across the grassy yard built the muscles of our legs and strengthened our coordination. A stray clod of mud would throw you slap off a bike or twist the handlebars and jab them right in your stomach.
Mom and Dad didn't have many rules to our bike riding, but we couldn't ride anybody on the handle bars and we couldn't ride on the handle bars. My cousins usually spent a week or two with us in the summer. My sister and my youngest cousin were always getting into something. As the oldest, I was always held responsible for their actions. I was kept really busy during their visits. It was a little after 5:00 one afternoon and I was in the backyard. I heard my sister calling me and told her I would be there in a minute. Running and crying, sis told me I had to come now. I took off, asking as I went what had happened. Sis informed me it didn't matter, I just needed to fix Mike. When I hit the kitchen, I knew there wasn't any fixing Mike. He was skinned from forehead to feet. Blood, mud and grit in every pore, scratch, cut, and all the spaces in between. Again I ask what happened and neither would tell me. I started the cleanup process to access the damage and Sis kept yelling I had to hurry. Then I realized, it was time for Mom to come home. They didn't want to be in trouble and I was suppose to fix it. I also knew I was in a heap of trouble.
Needless to say, I did get Mike clean and patched with no serious wounds detected, but the scratches were everywhere and they would just have to heal. There was no way to hide the damage. And yes, Sis was riding Mike on the handle bars and lost control. They got a tongue lashing and Mom lit into me for letting it happen. Mike was healed before his week was up, much to his chagrin. Mike loved each and every scar he had earned. They were his badge of honor, proof he was truly a little boy. That was the only serious bike accident I can recall and it amounted to a lot of blood from a lot of scratches, but nothing life threatening.
You know it didn't cost anything to ride a bicycle. There was no gas to buy and yeah we had to patch a tire now and again, but that was nothing. We didn't buy fancy bikes, the fancy ones wouldn't make it in our neck of the woods. It was cheap entertainment that offered exercise and education.
I still get the itch to ride a bicycle. We keep bicycles at the house - just in case. I jump on and take off - the knowledge of riding never leaves you - and then I slow down and eventually stop, out of breath with legs twitching. I stand straddle that bicycle and wonder how in the world I will get back to the house. That 450 feet to the house seems like 10 miles. But I slowly make it and wonder what happened? When did I get too old to ride a bicycle?
Remember the feeling of the wind blowing in your face and the breeze created from you riding was enough to keep you cool?
Remember the smells as you rode - the honeysuckle blooms, the wisteria, even the wild onion in the pasture?
We never got tired, my sister and I. We rode all day and never got tired. They was always something new to find while riding, a frog trying to escape our poking and prodding, a snake skin left in the ditch, katydids hiding in the grass, and after a good rain, a turtle slowly crossing the road. There was always something to find that would hold our interest for hours.
We would race like crazy from one field road to the next. It didn't matter the type of bike or even the brand, it was always the strongest legs that won the race. The roads were dirt and there wasn't any concrete for miles. Riding on hard packed dirt and across the grassy yard built the muscles of our legs and strengthened our coordination. A stray clod of mud would throw you slap off a bike or twist the handlebars and jab them right in your stomach.
Mom and Dad didn't have many rules to our bike riding, but we couldn't ride anybody on the handle bars and we couldn't ride on the handle bars. My cousins usually spent a week or two with us in the summer. My sister and my youngest cousin were always getting into something. As the oldest, I was always held responsible for their actions. I was kept really busy during their visits. It was a little after 5:00 one afternoon and I was in the backyard. I heard my sister calling me and told her I would be there in a minute. Running and crying, sis told me I had to come now. I took off, asking as I went what had happened. Sis informed me it didn't matter, I just needed to fix Mike. When I hit the kitchen, I knew there wasn't any fixing Mike. He was skinned from forehead to feet. Blood, mud and grit in every pore, scratch, cut, and all the spaces in between. Again I ask what happened and neither would tell me. I started the cleanup process to access the damage and Sis kept yelling I had to hurry. Then I realized, it was time for Mom to come home. They didn't want to be in trouble and I was suppose to fix it. I also knew I was in a heap of trouble.
Needless to say, I did get Mike clean and patched with no serious wounds detected, but the scratches were everywhere and they would just have to heal. There was no way to hide the damage. And yes, Sis was riding Mike on the handle bars and lost control. They got a tongue lashing and Mom lit into me for letting it happen. Mike was healed before his week was up, much to his chagrin. Mike loved each and every scar he had earned. They were his badge of honor, proof he was truly a little boy. That was the only serious bike accident I can recall and it amounted to a lot of blood from a lot of scratches, but nothing life threatening.
You know it didn't cost anything to ride a bicycle. There was no gas to buy and yeah we had to patch a tire now and again, but that was nothing. We didn't buy fancy bikes, the fancy ones wouldn't make it in our neck of the woods. It was cheap entertainment that offered exercise and education.
I still get the itch to ride a bicycle. We keep bicycles at the house - just in case. I jump on and take off - the knowledge of riding never leaves you - and then I slow down and eventually stop, out of breath with legs twitching. I stand straddle that bicycle and wonder how in the world I will get back to the house. That 450 feet to the house seems like 10 miles. But I slowly make it and wonder what happened? When did I get too old to ride a bicycle?
Strawberry Flavored Crickets
We have been fishing again. One day the fish were snubbing their noses at our meal worms and red wigglers, the next we got a nibble at the crickets, and then a slam dunk - strawberry flavored crickets landed a good dozen bream and one lost huge catfish.
Didn't have an apple core handy when we came in from fishing on the second trip, and had most of the hundred crickets we had taken left over, so Hubby dropped a couple of strawberries in the cricket bucket to hold them over until the next trip to the pond. Those crickets demolished the strawberries by morning, so I dropped in a couple more. That afternoon, the bream were hitting like crazy and we had now decided to use only strawberry flavored crickets.
Fishing is not good for anything but relaxing. Don't listen to the tall tales of how much exercise you get - you don't! I know it sounds good, but it just isn't true. It is addictive though. You will forget all about walking your 2 miles or swimming for an hour or most anything else you should be doing. And that isn't all - you want to go back over and over again. Housework, yardwork, feeding the animals are just not important. The fish are calling and you have to go!
It doesn't even matter whether you catch anything (but a bite once in a while makes it real nice). Find a creek bank (next to most bridges), a pond, a lake or a river and throw a hook in the water. Thoughts ramble through your head and problems seem to take care of themselves, worries watch completely away and relaxation sneaks up on you.
If you know of a child that has never been fishing, make time to take them - heck, invite their mom and dad along. they probably have never been either. Get kids out from in front of the TV and off the streets - take them fishing!
Didn't have an apple core handy when we came in from fishing on the second trip, and had most of the hundred crickets we had taken left over, so Hubby dropped a couple of strawberries in the cricket bucket to hold them over until the next trip to the pond. Those crickets demolished the strawberries by morning, so I dropped in a couple more. That afternoon, the bream were hitting like crazy and we had now decided to use only strawberry flavored crickets.
Fishing is not good for anything but relaxing. Don't listen to the tall tales of how much exercise you get - you don't! I know it sounds good, but it just isn't true. It is addictive though. You will forget all about walking your 2 miles or swimming for an hour or most anything else you should be doing. And that isn't all - you want to go back over and over again. Housework, yardwork, feeding the animals are just not important. The fish are calling and you have to go!
It doesn't even matter whether you catch anything (but a bite once in a while makes it real nice). Find a creek bank (next to most bridges), a pond, a lake or a river and throw a hook in the water. Thoughts ramble through your head and problems seem to take care of themselves, worries watch completely away and relaxation sneaks up on you.
If you know of a child that has never been fishing, make time to take them - heck, invite their mom and dad along. they probably have never been either. Get kids out from in front of the TV and off the streets - take them fishing!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Early Learning
Is it because spring came so early or because school started earlier? Either way, it feels like it should be late spring or early fall and it is only mid summer. The long lazy hot days of summer are not yet past. Children have been robbed of the last 4 weeks of summer only to get longer breaks in the coolness of fall and winter and the early spring. Those wonderful lethargic days, too hot to play hard, just made for lazing around and letting the body rest before reasserting the mind on it search for more nourishing fodder of which to grow. Teachers have had their vacation cut short also. Are they rested enough to tackle another year of training and educating?
Do they really feed the mind nourishing fodder in school these days or are they just teaching what is needed to pass state tests? Do teachers really enjoy teaching or is it just a way to make money? Who decides what needs to be taught in order to pass those infernal tests and who makes up those same tests? Is the creativity of the teaching professional limited by having to follow so closely the lesson plans devised by the higher ups that are focused on passing the state tests?
Elementary schools of the fifties taught first the letters, including their sounds; then the writing; then the math; then the reading. Writing over and over again, flash cards, more writing - a child would think their hands were going to fall off. Teachers came up with innovative games to help us learn and it worked. We had repetitive writing exercises and worked in groups with flash cards while the teacher worked one on one with those that were having problems. We learned and it stayed with us. We read to the class, the teacher read to the class and we learned that reading was important. The written word was important and that correct grammar mattered.
My teachers knew they were teaching the future of this great nation and what they taught governed how these future leaders would perform. They took their time and did it right. They focused on the learning not on the tests.
Today is the first day of school for a multitude of students. These children are our tomorrow. Parents, help them to understand the importance of learning and how much fun it can be. Teachers please take the time to teach and instill the joy of learning in these children. It can make all the difference in the rest of your school year(s) and theirs.
A nourished mind stays inquisitive and eager to learn.
Do they really feed the mind nourishing fodder in school these days or are they just teaching what is needed to pass state tests? Do teachers really enjoy teaching or is it just a way to make money? Who decides what needs to be taught in order to pass those infernal tests and who makes up those same tests? Is the creativity of the teaching professional limited by having to follow so closely the lesson plans devised by the higher ups that are focused on passing the state tests?
Elementary schools of the fifties taught first the letters, including their sounds; then the writing; then the math; then the reading. Writing over and over again, flash cards, more writing - a child would think their hands were going to fall off. Teachers came up with innovative games to help us learn and it worked. We had repetitive writing exercises and worked in groups with flash cards while the teacher worked one on one with those that were having problems. We learned and it stayed with us. We read to the class, the teacher read to the class and we learned that reading was important. The written word was important and that correct grammar mattered.
My teachers knew they were teaching the future of this great nation and what they taught governed how these future leaders would perform. They took their time and did it right. They focused on the learning not on the tests.
Today is the first day of school for a multitude of students. These children are our tomorrow. Parents, help them to understand the importance of learning and how much fun it can be. Teachers please take the time to teach and instill the joy of learning in these children. It can make all the difference in the rest of your school year(s) and theirs.
A nourished mind stays inquisitive and eager to learn.
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