Sunflower ForestNot

Perhaps for a similar dollar investment, we could have purchased an old tractor (and Charles may even have been caught petting it), but the pygmy CowNots have been a more warm-fuzzy way to eliminate what was last year a virtual forest of sunflowers.

At ground level, it's a pretty piggledy-looking thicket, but even getting a late start on their assignment, the little darlin's have done a good job of clearing our northern view.

It's just a shame that pygmy CowNots don't hibernate.

Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life:

no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.

~John 14:6

~*~ Manly 16 ~*~

For what thanks can we render to God again for you.

I Thessalonians 3:9a

Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! Pick me!

Question of the Week:

compliments of Miss South Carolina

"Why is it that 1 out of 5 young people in

the U.S. cannot locate America on a map?"

1. just got here
2. outcome based education
3. doesn't exist any more
4. all of the above

Because that, when they knew God, they glorified [him] not as God, neither were thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools. ~Romans 1:21, 22

If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land. ~II Chronicles 7:14

Monday Musings

Charles asked, "What are you doing?"

We'd just stepped out the back door, and were on our way to the pond, on a mission to snag two more catfish for Monday night's dinner. I'd stopped in my tracks and was gazing longingly at the lawn tractor. The utility cart was hitched to the back, and it was parked perilously close to my van. There was no peril in the making when Son3 parked it there -- certain peril loomed large, if I tried to back it out, and I know that because of what happened to the sawhorse that time I tried to back the tractor-cart combo out of the barn. Oopsie.

I'm so lazy!" I answered.

"WHAT are you talking about?" asked Charles.

"I was trying to decide whether or not to ride the lawn tractor to the pond. How sick is that?" I replied.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that. You always have so much work to do," came the loving, encouraging reply from Charles. (*good husband* *good husband*)

"Yeah, but I don't do it! That's what I'm talking about!" And we shared a knowing laugh.

I walked to the pond...and back, when the catch o' the day was cleaned. I even loaded the dishwasher (AGAIN!). *unmerited, puffed up smile*

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

I sure hope OAO Daughter blogs about her husband's magical, mystical, inexpensive swim trunks he bought in Costa Rica, since she forgot to pack any into his suitcase before he left: Add water, disappear -- not the man, the trunks.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

I recently tracked down a cherished friend from the past I've had no contact with in more than three decades. She was my other mother, my drama coach, my own mother's best friend, and a light in my child life. My friends today might be impressed by (or frustrated with) the swell job she did teaching drama -- if I'm not the queen, I'm at least a lady in waiting. Betty's the only person in my life who's ever been able to convince me to sing a solo, and reflecting on days long past, I suggested if she could remember who was in those audiences, she should send notes of apology. True to form, she wrote back a lovely and gracious paragraph comparing Dumbo clutching the feather as he flew, and I fixing my eyes on the overhead light fixture as I croaked out "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," threatening to put Alfalfa out of a job. Everyone should have a Betty.

Betty's cute-as-a-bug, engaging, 10-year-old daughter has grown children of her own. How'd she do that!? *sigh*

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Okay, okay, I admit it -- I am (make that WAS) a little puffed up about our Beautiful(Not?) little chickens...until this came in an email from OAO Daughter: "I was going to comment on your blog, 'This is photographic evidence that adolescence is awkward,' but I forgot that you don't take comments any more. So, there's your comment. :)"

Later, when I'd voiced my (wounded,) dissenting opinion in a phone conversation, she gasped, giggled, and said, "Oops, I'm sorry."

AlmostChickens only a mother could love?

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

I was tossing into the dryer the other day a wet washcloth with an assignment to wrest the wrinkles from the dry shirts I'd left lying in the machine for two days. I considered stuffing myself in there with them and taking a few spins. If anyone's tried that, let me know if it works.

The law of the Lord [is] perfect, converting the soul: the testimony of the Lord [is] sure, making wise the simple. The statutes of the Lord [are] right, rejoicing the heart: the commandment of the Lord [is] pure, enlightening the eyes. The fear of the Lord [is] clean, enduring for ever: the judgments of the Lord [are] true [and] righteous altogether. More to be desired [are they] than gold, yea, than much fine gold: sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb. Moreover by them is thy servant warned: [and] in keeping of them [there is] great reward. ~Psalms 19:7-11

*POOF* It's a Chicken!

Well...almost

Remember the little fluff balls?

What happens to a chick in 4 weeks is amazing.

Thou, [even] thou, [art] Lord alone;
thou hast made heaven, the heaven of heavens,
with all their host, the earth, and all [things] that [are] therein,
the seas, and all that [is] therein, and thou preservest them all;
and the host of heaven worshippeth thee.
Nehemiah 9:6

Annie's Cappuccino Is Rude

It's not polite to stare. Tell it to Cousin Annie's cup o' cappu, which was watching her one recent morning. It's remarkable enough that the beverage had an eyeball, but I was particularly delighted to discover the propensity for snapping odd photos -- and emailing them -- is genetic. I hope Annie didn't send it to anyone else, because they just might not understand. But then, one (or many) might wonder what's wrong with ME, since I slapped the photo into a graphics program and enhanced its wonder...then I sent it back to her, and now I'm setting it out for the world to see.

Last week I took a picture of my new shoes. Yes, I put them on, aimed the camera at my feet, and snapped. I wasted no time sending the photo to my dear friend out west, and she's apparently still trying to figure out what to say, since that email has lain unanswered for days now. Listen, Zoomer, I ain't going to no fancy dress balls over here. I think they'll be grand around the campfire. The non-responsiveness to my W*M purchase may have something to do with the fact that she wears Birkenstocks. *snorting & ducking*

Sometimes it's the little things: little cappuccino eyeballs - ugly little shoes - crazy little nanas.

O taste and see that the Lord [is] good:

blessed [is] the man [that] trusteth in him.

O fear the Lord, ye his saints:

for [there is] no want to them that fear him.
Psalms 34:8-9

Pronoun Practice

OR

My dear, old (*snort*) friend and I were talking just last week about our granddaughters, age two, not yet mastering the consistently proper usage of pronouns: After a toddler stumble, "Ow, I bump you toe," or with arms up-stretched, "Hold you, Nana," which would result, of course, in said granddaughter being squished like a buhg.

So when Nana & Little Britches and Nana & Sugar Plum spent the weekend together, it was amazing to witness the girls' progress with pronouns:

"That’s my Nana."
"It’s my Nana."
"No, it’s my Nana!"
"My Nana!"

"My cup."
"Mine."
"No, it’s mine!"
"It’s my cup!"

Sadly, the girls had nearly identical shoes, which prompted a few tears as they practiced my and mine, and Nanas scrambled to inspect shoes and untangle the mystery of which girl is right this time, and where’s the other pair?

One is affectionately touchy-feely, and the other is don’t you dare touchy-feely ME, so Nana-voices were to be heard throughout the weekend reminding and encouraging, “She doesn’t like that,” and, “She just wants to give you some love; she likes you.”

But there were plenty of good times and the making of memories. The little butterflies (one sporting a Superman bandaid for an owie) played with and fed the friendly CowNot.

There was a boatload of fun aboard the YachtNot.

And by Sunday afternoon, Miss TouchMeNot was offering Miss TouchyFeely some hugs.

Sunday evening (and all of Monday, if we’re to be honest) there were two exhausted Nanas. Nanas know how to share, and thus shared the thought: We really must do this again…when the girls are 17!

Thou wilt shew me the path of life:
in thy presence [is] fulness of joy;
at thy right hand [there are] pleasures for evermore.
~ Psalm 16:11