Thursday, July 31, 2008

Phatso & Phase 10

Son4 and I had no sooner sat down at the living room table for a game of Phase 10, when that Purrley cat appeared in my play space, immediately positioning himself in an I'm-here-for-the-duration repose. I gave a shove to his stumpy tailed back half, he barked a couple of times (he's awfully sassy), then he jumped to the floor. I hadn't even arranged my hand yet, when I noticed the sneaky, persistent feline had merely leapt from the floor to the other half of the table.

What a (lovable) slug he is. This next photo reminds me of the day I noticed a visiting friend studiously picking at Purrle's nose. "Suzie, what are you doing?"

"Purrle has some dirt on his nose. I'm trying to get it off."

"Suzie! Those are freckles!"

Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice. Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. ~Philippians 4:4-5

Ruffled Tomatoes

Not only did someone switch spikes in the tomato bedding plants, so that we're harvesting an abundance of Roma tomatoes we didn't know we'd planted, but the majority of the beefsteaks are ruffled. I'm not complaining. One doesn't get more than a slice or two from the frilly fruits for topping burgers, but their shape intrigues and amuses me.

Many of the Romas harvested thusfar have already met their fates in salsa and spaghetti sauce. Never look a gift tomato in the face. What's that mean anyway? What is a gift horse? I did look those tomatoes in the face. Worked out swell for me.

God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, Hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things, by whom also he made the worlds; ~Hebrews 1:1, 2

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Don't Ask

Having utterly failed throughout the afternoon at convincing the Plum to eat her lunch, around 4:30, I scraped it into the trash.

Very shortly thereafter, I said, "SugarPlum, I'm fixing your dinner now. Are you going to eat it, or am I just doing this for nuthin'?

"Umm," she pondered momentarily. "You're just doin' it for nuthin'."

No man that warreth entangleth himself with the affairs of this life; that he may please him who hath chosen him to be a soldier. II Timothy 2:4

Chicken Parade

Grand Marshall: MIDAS

Lining Up

*cheers* - *whistles* - *applause*

Grace be with you, mercy, and peace, from God the Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, in truth and love. II John 1:3

Tuesday, July 29, 2008


Or would that be a stretch? Let's just go with one good deed deserves another.

When Son3 and Pierre came in from the woods, Son3 spied some burrs in Pierre's coat, leaned over, and began removing them for him. Suddenly, Pierre was plucking burrs from his pack leader's bootlaces, while his own were being wrested from his coat.

You pluck my burrs, and I'll pluck yours.

Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets. ~Matthew 7:12

Monday, July 28, 2008

Apple TreeNots

We think perhaps because none of the fruit trees were allowed to bear fruit last year, due to a late frost, they stored their goodies and packed a punch this year, because all are heavily laden with fruits. We propped some droopy looking peach tree branches but didn't perceive the apple trees were in any danger until half of one tree went down in a storm a week or two ago.

The other apple tree seemed to be faring well until today. Oopsie.

We still have half of one tree and a little under two-thirds of the other.

I'm glad we didn't lose all the fruit this year (she says in her best Pollyanna impersonation). ºÜº

So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants: we have done that which was our duty to do. ~Luke 17:10

Saturday, July 26, 2008

The Week of the Baby Birds

First things first: This blogpost is a labor of blog dedication, because a spider the size of leviathan just ran past me, and since I cannot be convinced that eating me all gone is not the mission of every spider on earth, I can't EVEN believe I'm still sitting here. Furthermore, the arrangement of my computer armoire is such that I must hold the keyboard in my lap, so typing while my feet are tapping -- to keep the monster at bay -- is quite the irksome, but necessary, trick.

Now the week of the baby birds, which is a bit disingenuous, since it was more like the week of the smackdowns, but we won't go there...

When Charles noticed a bird flying into the bed of his truck with a worm and leaving it without, he went outdoors to investigate and found this baby bird perched in the bed. If uploading the photo degrades it, said bird is the little yellow blob to the right of the wheel well.

Just in case you couldn't spy the creature in that photo, here's a closer shot:

Ugly little thing, and it didn't blink an eye or twitch a feather throughout two photo sessions.

For Katie's sake, we won't talk about what I cloned out of the photo, but suffice to say it was uglier than the bird. Oh, and sorry, bird. Just tellin' it as I see it.

Know therefore that the Lord thy God, He is God, the faithful God, which keepeth covenant and mercy with them that love Him and keep His commandments to a thousand generations. ~Deuteronomy 7:9

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Lady and the Beast

First I accidentally broke the egg yolk. Then I dripped onto the breakfast tray some of what remained fluid after frying the thing. Next I clumsily rammed into the door facing with the tray and slopped milk over the edge of the cereal bowl. On my return trip from the Bammy quarters, my sandal flew off my foot, and said nekked foot strode onto the muddy, squishy grass. Now each step was an exercise in trying to keep a wet foot planted in an open shoe...which is a size 7.5, for the record and because it looks more like a 12 in the photo, and which would be a cryin' shame on this shortlike person of mine. We're talking platform. But then, I guess I could never be accidentally pushed over. I'd be like one of those inflatable clowns with sand in the bottom. *boing-boing*

Oh, the photo. Just as I stepped onto the final stone, I noticed an amusing print. (Well, it amused me.) Of course, when I looked back, there were two.

Who lives here?

Sometimes it's the little things that make me smile.

For bodily exercise profiteth little: but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come. ~1 Timothy 4:8


We had a storm last night, not especially spectacular in any way. I was mostly oblivious to its approach and nicely surprised when I uploaded photos later in the evening, for someone had snapped this shot:

What didn't escape me was the phone call about an hour later from The National Weather Service, asking what size the hail had been, producing in me a strange blend of Wow, are we ever important, and This is how they garner and disperse weather facts -- they phone piggledy people in the middle of nowhere and ask what happened? That, my friends, is funny.

If only we could think faster: "Pea size? Oh, no, no, no. Bowling ball. You should see the carnage!"

I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men; For kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty. For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Saviour; Who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth. ~1 Timothy 2:1-4

Are You My Mama?

This funny little baby bird went hopping, flapping, and squawking to one of our hens, begging for food.
She fed it.


Boast not thyself of to morrow; for thou knowest not what a day may bring forth. ~Proverbs 27:1

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Say Something Funny to Me

Ever have one of those mornings?

This is NOT my recommended cure for ailing souls, and I've never done this before in my life, but I decided to look for a joke this morning. I've done all sorts of strange and new things in this, the fifth decade of my life.

A joke. What's up with that? I found one though:

The farmer's son was returning from the market with the crate of chicken's his father had entrusted to him, when all of a sudden the box fell and broke open. Chickens scurried off in different directions, but the determined boy walked all over the neighborhood scooping up the wayward birds and returning them to the repaired crate. Hoping he had found them all, the boy reluctantly returned home, expecting the worst.

"Pa, the chickens got loose," the boy confessed sadly, "but I managed to find all twelve of them."

"Well, you did real good, son," the farmer beamed. "You left with seven."

NOW I'm going to go listen to some hymns. There's one in particular I'd like to hear, and I'm not even certain of its title, which may be "I've Never Been Sorry." I've only heard it sung in a medley by Kurt LaBouve, and I have the CD. It has a fast-paced, uplifting tune to it, at least as Kurt sings it: I've never been sorry - that I trusted His name. Every morning I find Him - exactly the same. ºÜº

Another thing, though, about one's fifth decade is that one tends to forget things, and I can't remember where I put that CD. *laughing*

For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this; Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. But if ye bite and devour one another, take heed that ye be not consumed one of another. Galatians 5:14, 15

Sunday, July 20, 2008

A Weed in the Corn Patch

Gotta love our weeds.

Prove all things; hold fast that which is good. Abstain from all appearance of evil. ~1 Thessalonians 5:21-22

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Meal Planning

Do we have anything for me to grill today?

Umm, I dunno. I kinda think maybe not.

Charles lifts the freezer lid.

Why are you talking about grilling something, when I made enough English toffee yesterday to get us through today?

I dunno. Have you looked at it though? I think there's barely a plateful left:

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled. ~Matthew 5:6

Friday, July 18, 2008

When Buhgs Ate Kansas


Charles brought in this sunflower for me to see. Sunflowers aren't as large or beautiful as the magnolias in the South, but they're our version of a whoppin' big flower. It happens that someone munched this one. I sized the image for clicking, just in case you like to see buhg-munchin' up-close-and-personal. I do.

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? ...Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof. ~Matthew 6:28-31, 34

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Favorite Things - WoodWick

If you have a scratch 'n' sniff monitor, come closer. You won't be disappointed.

WoodWick candles
Fireside fragrance

This one is in the bathroom.

When Mr. and Mrs. Piecrust came to visit a couple of years ago, she and I ventured out on a little shopping trip and landed at the Sunflower Nook. We were preparing to leave the shop, when the scent of a Fireside WoodWick candle, alight on the check-out counter, attacked us. "Where are they!?" and we both scurried into the candle room before returning to the counter, clutching our prizes. If my memory serves me, there was a scuffle over who was buying what, but we both walked out with candles in our bags. I think I bought hers, and she bought mine, and yes, we're both that silly. [*finger to lips* shhh ... She's sillier.]

The wooden wick crackles as it burns. The dreamy fragrance blankets an entire room and sometimes beyond. There's no better candle on the face of the earth. [If you know better, don't burst my bubble.]

Favorite thing -- WoodWick Fireside candle

Blessed be the Lord God, the God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous things. And blessed be his glorious name for ever: and let the whole earth be filled with his glory; Amen, and Amen. ~Psalms 72:18-19

Monday, July 14, 2008

That Newest Chick

Awww, baby.

And thou, Solomon my son, know thou the God of thy father, and serve him with a perfect heart and with a willing mind: for the Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth all the imaginations of the thoughts: if thou seek him, he will be found of thee; but if thou forsake him, he will cast thee off for ever. ~1 Chronicles 28:9


No one had been in the pool since last Monday, and we'd given it no attention other than refreshing chlorine tabs, so when I went out there yesterday, I was pleased to see it was looking pretty good. Nevertheless, I set myself up to vacuum and descended into the waters cooled on Saturday by GlobalWarmingNot, when it was 59º at 11:00 a.m., in Kansas, on July 12th, but let's not go there, lest I be tempted to begin naming all the people who should be living in prison -- rather than mansions -- with life sentences for treasonous acts and perjury. Whew! That was a long, rabbit trailing sentence. Buhgs. Stay on topic.

I was not long in the water when I was horrified to discover the pool was full of margarets. My apologies to anyone named Margaret, because that's a lovely name, and I'm sorry all over myself to borrow it for use in place of a word I can't force myself to type, and if I've lost anyone at this point, as much as it pains me, I will type the word larva, and that's the insect stage to which I'm referring. I'm talking hundreds of margarets. I could hardly believe I was staying in the water, but it was either that or dynamite the pool, the latter not being a reasonable option.

I quickly set aside the vacuum, grabbed the skimmer, and began the long, arduous, disgusting task of scooping margarets out of the pool, the entire time wondering if we'd not had enough chlorine in the water, yet thinking we surely must have, because they all appeared to be dead. Eventually, I thought I had them all and began vacuuming, stepping ever so gingerly and squeamishly around the pool and wondering if dead margarets sink at some point.

Some 30 or so minutes later, Charles came upon this scene, and I began telling him my woeful tale of sharing the pool with hundreds of margarets. He, being much more about science than I, began expressing his wonder that any buhg (other than mosquitos) would make deposits in water. Just doesn't happen. Well it happened here.

He was still considering this, when I mentioned the sparse, oddly colored debris I was vacuuming from the floor of the pool. "Oh, I know what that is," he said. "It's the pollen from Sid's corn. ...Wait a minute. Let me see one of those things." So I scooped a couple of margarets, which did seem to keep presenting themselves, in spite of my close inspection and best effort to remove them all.

"Those aren't margarets! They're the little pods off of corn tassels! They blew into the pool from Sid's corn."


He stepped into the corn field and returned with a spike of margarets, still an orange-purple blend, because they hadn't been bleached by chlorinated pool water.


Well, they sure looked like margarets to me.

It was some time before I recovered from the trauma of temporarily co-habitating with maragretnots. In fact, I may be permanently scarred, because Charles was to eventually tell me to stop calling them margarets. "It was corn!" And if I've scarred you by allowing you to think through several paragraphs that they were margarets, sobeit. We're supposed to share one another's burdens. Amen.

I joined Charles on the deck then, and before long he exclaimed, "Look! Look at this thing. It's so shiny." I turned to see a beetle he'd captured.

"Oh, I know. Those are in the pool all the time. Aren't they beautiful. ...Wait, let me get the camera." I usually take the camera to the pool with me. Ya nevuh know when something photo-worthy may occur -- like the appearance of a gilded beetle.

"Well, wait," Charles said. "Do they bite?"

"No, I don't think so. They're in the pool all the time."

"Well, hurry up."

I took my shot, then told him to let me get another, because I had no way of knowing whether or not I was capturing the beetle's gleaming glory. Indeed, I hadn't in the first photo. In the second, I caught the shine, but the camera focused on the apple tree, so it's blurry. (Some year, I'm going to have to read the camera manual.)

I'd no sooner clicked a second time, when he hollered, "OW!"

I gasped, and feeling like a heel for giving a false assurance that buhg wouldn't bite, I said, "Did it bite you!?"

Then came the sheepish response, "No, but I thought it was going to. It kinda felt like it was going to." Neither of us could figure out why he'd hollered ow, because he's never met an insect or critter that struck fear into him, and he'd experienced no pain, so we both got a great laugh out of his most odd outburst. I'm still chuckling over it today.

And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. ~Genesis 1:26