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I love nothing better than to get up, sneak a peek out my window, and see some new, wondrous view from my spot on Sand Mountain. I call my little place Big Woods. Where we are located has been logged. Having been part of thick forest at one time means most of the remaining trees grow straight up toward the big sky. We have a field of sage grass on one side which meanders down the mountain and various thickets that fill in spaces that dip between the rolling acreage. These areas provide perfect hiding places for white-tailed deer that like to come out in the mornings for their morning stroll, lots of rabbits, squirrels, and all sorts of bird-life.
We keep a bird feeder full so we are visited by bright gold finches, rose finches, cardinals, wrens, red-winged black birds, and myriad other birds. The hummingbirds congregate around their feeder perched on the rail of our deck, sometimes a dozen at a time. They have become so tame, my husband is able to sit with a lid full of their feed in his hand and they will light on it to eat.
Last evening, I saw something I have never witnessed before: a clear-winged moth. This insect strongly resembles a tiny hummingbird. I actually thought it was a baby hummingbird until we got a better look at it and realized it did not possess a beak. It drank from the hummingbird feeder though, and the flowers around the deck.
Our granddaughters, Micaela, age 7, and Elizabeth, 16 months, were here with us as we sat outside in the evening and observed all the nature God had on display. Earlier in the day, we had picked blackberries. Micaela and I made a cobbler. We have good health. Does life get any better?
Nature has a way of grounding your senses, reminding you there is a vast order to life, yet it is wild and you are part of it!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
content
I knew better, but I did it anyway. I convinced my husband, Rusty, that we could handle five grandchildren together this weekend. They range in age as follows: Micaela, 7, Nate, 6 (almost), Gabe 4, Asher, 2 1/2, Elizabeth 15 months. They came on Saturday afternoon and spent the night. I don't have time to tell you everything they did, but here's a little of what you would have heard at my house if you were a fly on my wall.
"Elizabeth, do NOT stick your hand in the potty." She looks at me like I'm a complete numbskull who doesn't understand that she is bound by some cosmic bond with the potty and MUST stick her arm in the potty...which she does, again and again. The biggest problem with this is sometimes the boys forget to flush the potty. NOTE TO SELF: Keep anti-bacterial soap around when Elizabeth is here.
"Asher, I told you not to sit on the water-spout." "But, Nana," he says, "it tickles my bottom." He proceeds to back-up to the water-spout toy we have set up in the yard to let it tickle his butt before he plops down on top of it.
"Micaela, don't be a tattle-tale," when she runs to me to tell me Asher has squashed the water-spout that she wanted to squash. Somehow, everything and anything that is not right, broken, or just plain wrong is caused by her brothers. And yet, she mothers them constantly.
"Elizabeth, get your hand out of that potty!"
"Nate, are you sure you can eat that much?" He has a huge portion of chicken, corn on the cob, a pile of potatoes, and garlic bread on his plate. I've never heard him say he didn't want dessert, but he turned down pound cake with sliced peaches. Shortly, when I saw him looking a little green around the gills, "Nate, if you're going to be sick, run to the potty!" What concerned me was he actually ambled off toward the bathroom. About thirty minutes later, he decides he does want dessert. That's my Nate.
"Gabe, please don't ride your bike that fast if you don't know how to use the brakes." I repeat this request several times, but it is ignored several times as he careens down my driveway at breakneck speed (well, it seems like breakneck speed to me) until he goes out of control and crashes. Repeatedly. Scuffed knees with sniffles each time. He gets up and does it over and over again.
"Elizabeth, get your hand out of that potty!"
Rusty arranged for the four older ones to 'camp out' in the 5th wheel in our driveway. Somehow, I get Elizabeth to sleep in her port-a-crib. He took the boys for a 'hike' down our road and they pilfered blackberries growing on a lot nearby. Micaela and I sat outside and watched a lavender tinted sunset and listened to the cricket chorus. Fate smiled at me because at 10:30pm, Rusty has the boys and Micaela in the camper and I am alone in my bed....aaaahhhhh, yes! See, I told you we could handle it,
Sunday morning after I prepared a gazillion waffles, they all had baths, we dressed them for church and their dad picked them up! We did it!! We were only fifteen minutes late for church!! We rock!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
cheerful
www.youtube.com/watch
My friend Cyn Mobley forwarded this You Tube. Wow!! Double Wow!! Talk about a wake-up call. There is so much in this video to discuss.
First, I'd say some will think it controversial with perhaps racial overtones. I'll let you, the viewer, decide. My opinion on that is no. I don't find racism under every rock I pick up. I'm a realist. Often, what is just is. If the shoe fits, etc. You get my drift.
Second, there is a connection to the issue of education, or lack thereof, in the United States. Let's just go ahead and discuss why it is that nationalities, such as Chinese or Indian seem to score far better percentage wise than American students on standardized tests. I would predict we could blog this ssue from now til next year and we wouldn't have agreement. But, let's do it. Why do we not hear about this on the media? I'll answer that: all indications are that mainstream media must at all times appear to be Politically Correct. In other words, don't bring up anything that will appear judgmental or somehow disparaging of any particular race or creed. I won't say religion because religion is fair game at all times.
Third, what does this say about the United States and where we are headed in the not too distant future? Thoughts of this discussion makes me shiver in my house shoes this morning.
Fourth, the exponential growth of communication technology is astounding. The facts speak for themselves, but when you really see it in bold print- you can't look away. It's in your face and you better learn to deal with it.
Watch the Youtube link above and give Queenb-write a shout out. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
It's our day to honor those who have given the ultimate price for our country. When you speak of these fallen heroe's, words like honor, duty, and character are commonly used. I get choked up every time I see the red, white and blue colors furling in the breeze over the backdrop of white crosses on a green manicured cemetery. Each cross represents someone's husband, father, brother, son or daughter. They are not numbers, they are people. People who had dreams of a future. Maybe they wanted to come off the field of war and become a simple farmer, a trucker, a preacher, a doctor, a lawyer. Maybe they had dreams of raising their own sons and daughters in a better world. One thing is certain, they served.
They might not have had strong feelings about the reason for the war itself. They may have been drafted into service. But, they went. They didn't run. Their country called and they answered. For that I honor them. I try to think of them as individuals because it makes it so much more personal. That one man/woman lying in that one grave under that one white cross served his country, lost his life, and now I can live my life in the freedom that the United States of America offers.
My only concern is that we are now living in a time when there is no draft. A segment of the population, for the most part, a lower income segment, that now serves the whole of America. The statistics show that the higher the income, the lower the chance of volunteering for armed service. Where is the sense of duty to our country? The sense of honor? Is it obsolete?
Our country may be lost one day, not in the battlefield, but because of what we failed to teach in our homes and schools. Let me know what you think!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
contemplative
Some of you may know that I had 5 of my grandchildren this weekend for a while. I think they're great. I love spending time with them. Each one as their own personality and it's fun to see them developing. BUT...there are those moments when I'm wishing I had a bag of tricks. The following is one of those moments:I fed the kids some chicken noodle soup and quite a bit of it ended up on Asher's shirt. He's 2 1/2 years old.
"Nana, I dont want this," he says, pulling the wet shirt front out. So I take him to the bedroom, take the wet shirt off, and slip one of my t-shirts over his head because it's a little chilly.
"No, Nana, this don't fit," he says. (He does not like things to be loose on him.)
I can tell he's not going to keep it on, but say, "It's one of Nana's shirts," thinking this will somehow make the t-shirt more appealing. But he continues to fuss saying it is a girl's shirt and takes the shirt off. Lightbulb moment occurs.
I pull another one of my t-shirts out and slip it over his head saying, "Here, this is one of Papa's shirt."
He walks off very happy wearing my purple nylon gym top.
These are the boys: Nathaniel (the sometimes serious big brother), Asher (the sweetie with blonde curls), Gabriel (the charmer, his blonde curles have been cut)
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood: cheerful
Barbie has had so many different jobs, I'm pretty sure she's the spokeswoman for the National Association of Multiple Personality's. I've had a few different jobs, too, but the one she somehow missed was mother. She had a friend, Midge, and a niece, Skipper, that I remember. She and Ken never married and don't tell me they weren't sharing covers.
Don't you all agree that childless women don't age quite as fast? Barbie is my exhibit #1 in this premise. She still has flawless skin, bright eyes, and beautiful legs with no varicose veins. Of course, who knows about her hair, it was always bleached. Still, I never played with a Barbie in my life and I still can't relate. She may look better than me, but darnit, I've at least lived a little. I didn't pretend to work, I worked. I had those chidren and, yes, I may have a few more wrinkles because of it. Yes, I've had both joy and heartache in the process, but that's called life.
So there, Barbie. I challenge you to grow up, get a life, adopt a child. Get involved with a children's organization; maybe as a foster mother. Do something productive of with your next 50 years!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood: contemplative
My butt is fuming right now. In case you all haven't already suspected , in my past life I was quite the control freak. My job lended itself to filing deadlines and humiliation if you were not on the ball with your stuff. Since I've retired from the legal world, I've let up. BUT, in my little world I've got my girls, my grandkids, my husband who's off working wherever, and my writing. My writing is what I selfishly do when I work everybody else out of the way. Yes, I know that sounds bad, or good, whichever way you happen to come by my acquaintance.
That being said, I had the New South writing contest deadline which is TODAY. I had my grandson Aidan with me this last weekend. I completely take responsiblity for not having the story ready to send off last week. I got off on a tangent with another story my mind wouldn't let go. Okay okay, you can't say anything I'm not saying to myself.
Yesterday, I met with my writing buddy, Wendy...great meeting. Afterward, I go to the post office with my envelope addressed and my story, Crystal Candy, tucked inside. I had the SASE envelope already addressed back to me sticking out of the envelope and asked the postwoman to put return postage on it.. She smiled and did it. Then chitchatted while she obliged me by taping the whole thing. Now nice, I thought. I left feeling so good about myself. Everyone happy, my writing good and on schedule for the most part. Aaahhh...yes, I am in control I'm sure my subconscious was thinking.
NOT. I just got my mail. The postwoman put my story and the envelope addressed to New South in the SASE envelope. My mouth dropped open when I pulled it out of my box. I kicked myself all the way back to the house. Now, I'm blogging rather than outside working. I am so hoping this venting helps me fume away my aggravation!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
crappy
That's most of us, the general folks. Then there are people like Officer Freeman from Chattanooga. The police officer who recently ATTACKED a greeter at a local Walmart for daring to try to stop and check Officer Freemans' receipt. Another officer was with him (why they are shopping at Walmart while they are on duty, as has been established, I don't know...that's another blog) stopped and let the greeter check his receipt. But Officer Freeman thinks he's special.
HOW DARE this old man stop Office Freeman!! He is highly offended and shoves the old man down! A bystander tries to stop the altercation from escalating and gets thrown against the plate glass window which shatters. BUT, Officer Freeman is not arrested.
Shocked are you? Yes, most of the folks around Chattanooga are too. We would have been scrambling to figure out how to get bonded. But now, don't forget, Officer Freeman is special. He's not like us general folks who shop at Walmart.
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
cranky
SometimesYaGottaDance.wmv
The economy is bad. Winter here in the corner of Tennessee/Georgia is cold, cloudy and depressing. I would love to go on a bike ride, but it's too miserable outside. Just about everybody I know is fighting a cold; sniffling, sneezing, coughing, or, or in the case of my grandchildren, dripping suspicious looking green mucous from their red noses.
I really don't want to overdose on Prozac. I've considered trying to just just sleep through the winter. There is a local phomenon that pretty much announces spring has arrived. That is the arrival of the famous Sand Mountain hummingbirds. Would the fast and furious buzzing of their wings awaken me? I sure don't want to sleep through spring.
In the meantime, I've decided I just gotta dance! Dance while I write, dance with my grandchildren (no, it ain't pretty, but it sure is fun), and dance with those around me I hold dear. You better watch this video so you'll be prepared when I break out in one of my slick moves. Maybe you too need to dance!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
creative
This isn't an easy topic and I'm ashamed that I hesitated to post this. Yesterday, was Sanctify of Life Day and I was forwarded this petition by a friend. While I don't want to offend, or use this blog as a bully-pulpit, anyone that knows me well, knows my views on the value of life. If you feel strongly about the sanctity of life, please pull up FightFOCA.com, listen to the webcast, and consider signing the petition. As an illegitimate child who could have been aborted, I value the decision my mother made not to do it. I have heard discussions for many years now on the growning inhumanity of some in our society. I believe it is purely a reflection of our inhumanity to the unborn.
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
morose
Being my age (no comments on that please), I've not gotten here without having met a few people over the years that were impressive in some way or another. Doris Kearns Goodwin was the latest. I met her last night after her appearance in Chattanooga to talk about her latest bestseller: Abraham Lincoln's Political Genius, Team of Rivals. Of course, I've seen her on t.v. and read articles she's written for many years, but I have to say, in person, she is even more entertaining. A tiny, slip of a woman with a librarian's presence and who possesses comedic timing, she regaled the audience with story after story of ole' Abe. Many were poignant, many were knee-slapping funny. Ms. Kearns also wove into her speech other stories involving Pres. Lyndon Johnson, in whose term she served as an intern and, of course, co-wrote his memoirs. Also, she related stories about JKF, FDR, Hoover, and T. Roosevelt.
Listening to her speak about these historical figures reminded me of what I haven't read, what I haven't studied, and what I still want to do. I enjoyed the time immensely, but it's also impressed upon me that I, too, can study and become, at least, more informed about the history around me.
Example:
Nathaniel: "Nana, I like California. We rode and rode and ...."(the next words were unintelligible . When he lingers on his sentences he sometimes begins to speak gibberish until he picks up his next train of thought.)
I was fully prepared to simply wait for him to find his thought again. But Micaela wasn't.
Micaela: "Nathaniel," she says in a bossy tone, "that's not real words." She turns to me, "He does that sometimes," waving her hand as if that explained it.
Nathaniel : I believe he was offended at her dismissive gesture of the hand. He exploded back at her, "Yes, it is!"
Micaela: For a millisecond, his anger silenced her, but then she recovered: "Well, it's not good English anyway," she yells back.
Nathaniel: Gave her back a dismissive wave of his hand.
I left the room to keep them from hearing me laugh.
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood:
awake
Apparently, Ginger has decided to go on a diet. As far as I know she's never weighed more than 4 lbs. I admit her diet may be considered bland compared to other dogs who get scraps from the table, etc. But I've never noticed her turning up her nose at the Science Diet she's always had. That is until this last week.
For several days now, she'll run to me and give me that 'come hither' look, which, of course, I do. I follow her into her her designated spot in the laundry room (I don't want to hear any groans- she likes it...the heat from the dryer and all). When I check her bowl, I see she's barely touched her food. She'll turn round and round, and shake her bony body just a little to let me know she's excited at the prospects that I may give her the dog bones instead.
I did it a few times because I thought it was so cute. You know, a dog getting her way. It was adorable. That is until I realized she was hardly eating her Science Diet food. So we are now in a batte of wills. When I check her bowl, she looks at me with this big black eyes, begging me for the dog bones. I don't and she turns her tail to me and curls up in her spot , intent on ignoring me.
The problem is, she doesn't have a lot of weight to lose. One of my more smart-alecky girls calls her Rat-dog if that gives you a better picture of her. We'll have to see who wins.
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood: amused
Foget carpe diem or seize the day. My Thunder Rock Writer (TWR) friends and I are setting out to seize 2009. As our TWR member, Nansy, says: Go big or go home! We're going big!
Make sure you follow along at www.thunderrockwriters.com to catch our upcoming events and activities. Today, we met and laid plans for the year. Some pretty fun and exciting stuff is on the horizon. If you're interested in the craft of writing at all, better stay on our trail.
Not only are these gals smart and talented, they're pretty fun to hang out with too!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood: bouncy
So my husband and I recently were traveling through Oklahoma, a place neither of us has ever been before. We're in a hurry to get to our destination, but itching to do a little exploring. I found an interesting tourist spot on the Atlas called "The Five Civilized Tribes Museum" in Muskogee. Well, we just had to stop.
Perched on top of a hill in an aged bricked building, we found the museum to be a delight. Although, the stories represented inside regarding the five tribes broke our hearts. We found the five tribes were Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Muscogee (Creek) and Seminole. The building is the historic Union Indian Agency and the first to be built by the United States Government to house the Superintendence of the Five Civilized Tribes.
Of course, we were drawn to the Cherokee display since we are so familiar to their history since we are both from Cleveland, TN near the Red Clay Campground where they were housed before The Trail of Tears. We looked at pictures of the proud, educated, industrious people and suddenly found ourselves reading diary entries and letters from a missionary family. This family wrote of day to day interactions with the Cherokee families and their heartbreak of how the United States government were treating them. I was close to tears by the time I got the end of the last entry. The letters were dated and signed by their name and then read 'Red Clay Campground, outside Cleveland, Tennessee'.
If only we all could learn the lesson that we are connected to everyone in some way, the world would be so much better.
- Location:Kitchen Table
- Mood: contemplative
Let me set the storyline here. Rebecca asked me to help with the kids while she escorted their homeschool group to this event. I pictured this endearing scene with the children watching the stage with enraptured gazes. Am I losing it or what? I will give Micaela the prize for being the most attentive. The others, however, were a little underwhelmed. I made it through til the halftime break (yes, I'm using football analagies since I was pulled and shoved) and went to the restroom with two midgets. We shuffled with half-steps down the hall, down the stairs to make it to the bathroom through I'm sure ten thousand women and other midgets. Okay, I may be exaggerating the numbers.
Oh, did I mention the pouring rain while we were parking and figuring out how to get the aforesaid kids into the theatre? Did I mention the fifty or so school buses fighting for room on Broad Street? Did I mention the parking ticket Rebecca got for not putting a $20.00 bill in the slot that only wanted $5.00?
(I will take time to mention that it was NOT the homeschool kids that giggled hysterically when the adult male ballet dancer in his very tight tights with his male anatomy very well outlined.)
As I said earlier, why do we do the things we do? I suspect the kids I was with this a.m. would have been just as happy to watch The Nutcracker on a video. But, we want to expose them to culture and drag them to a gilded theatre to watch it on stage. Why....why??
- Location:In The Big Woods Atop Ole' Sand Mtn
Every morning I get up early when there is a frayed edge of ashen gray outlining Lookout Mountain in the distance. I watch the lights flicker on Covenant College and wonder what the folks over there are getting up to do. Are they teachers worrying over preparing lessons or students worrying over learning those lessons? I drink my coffee and mull this and other thoughts over. I think about my blessings. I'm thankful that I don't have to work right now but wonder if I should be! I'm thankful to live near my five grandchildren. I think about my husband who is working hard and not able to be home right now. I think about my 3 daughters and the choices they are making in their lives. It reminds me how God is ultimately in control and I'm so glad for it!
I also think about our future on this little plot of ground and pray for God's blessings and that He allows us many years of joyful living on it. May we also be a blessing to those around us!
- Location:Big Woods
- Mood: contemplative
- Location:purple chair
- Mood:
giddy
Now, I want to give a shout out to my friend, Julieanne Hale. She gave me the encouragement to send it in. Thanks, Julieanne. Success is even sweeter shared with a friend. You're a keeper.
- Location:purple chair
- Mood: cheerful
