I Stand Corrected

In one of my very first blog stories, I referred to someone as a "redneck." I've been informed that the term I should have used was "old school country", and I beg forgiveness because I truly never meant to use the word redneck as a derogatory description of this warm-hearted man I was writing the story about.

I, Queen of the Tenderhearted, never meant to hurt anyone's feelings and it just makes me cringe to think I might have even remotely hurt someone's feelings by calling them a redneck. So, I'm sorry and I'll try to be more careful in the future when describing people in my silly stories.

If anyone that hails from the South wants to refer to me as a "Damn Yankee", then please feel free, although I would like to point out that technically Oregon didn't have a thing to do with the Civil War (at least not that I know of), therefore I couldn't really be considered a Yankee. According to Wikpedia though, a Yankee is "someone from the North who comes to the South for a visit and then goes back. A Damn Yankee is someone from the North who comes to the South and stays!" It goes on to say that "Southerners assert that Yankees are loud, verbally aggressive, arrogant without reason, denigrating, ignorant, demanding, xenophobic (I don't know what the heck that means!) and possess no class or character."

I can honestly say that I am none of those things, with the exception of "ignorant" in that I carelessly referred to someone I have come to love and cherish as a friend, as a redneck. Please forgive me!

Bye-Bye Bombshell

When we first got our beloved Tubby, we bought him the most beautiful doggie bed. It was suede on one side and soft, furry lamb's wool on the other side and we just knew he would love it. We proudly presented it to him and the first thing he did was walk up to it, sniff it all over and then he proceeded to hump it. Not quite the reception we were expecting, to say the least!

I'm sure my jaw dropped to the floor and I covered my eyes, while Sid cracked up and rooted him on. This dog was disgusting! When it was obvious he was never going to use his bed for anything but a "girlfriend", we decided to give her a name. Sid named her "Bombshell" after Bombshell McGee.

From that first day on and all throughout his first year with us, Tubby and his Bombshell have been a hot and heavy item. He got to be so rambunctiously enamored with her that we had to move her out to the porch because he'd make so much noise attacking her non-stop all throughout the house. Heavy breathing, snorting, grunting and growling. The only thing missing was the corny background music. Doggie Porn in my living room. Gross!

Once we moved her outside, Tubby had a routine. Every night around eight, like clockwork he'd go to the front door and grunt in frustration until we'd let him out to be with his gal. He slams through the screen door and runs right to her and immediately climbs on top. No "Hi Honey, how was your day?" or whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Just wham-bam hummina-hummina and let's get busy! Isn't that just like a man? He'll stay out there with her for an hour rolling her from one side of the porch to the other, taking breaks every so often to catch his breath. He's definitely got record-breaking stamina, that's for sure. Sometimes we have to go out there and take her away from him before he gives himself a heart attack from overexertion. And let me tell you, that's no easy task! He about climbs up your leg to get to her when you hold her up to take her away.

Lately, we've noticed poor old Bombshell has been looking a little worse for the wear. She has holes in her where he's chewed her up and her stuffing is falling out all over the place. Sid decided it's time we sent her packing, so today he loaded them both up in the jeep for a ride to the dump. Of course Tubby was in heaven, "loving" on her the whole way down the road. Little did he know these were the last precious minutes he would have with his worn out Love Monkey.

They arrived at the dump and Sid climbed out of the jeep and yanked her out from underneath Tubs and tossed her into the bin. Tubby just watched her fly over the edge of the bin and looked back at his Dad like "What the heck!?" You had to wonder what was going through his mind as he looked back while they drove away and left her behind.

They drove straight into town in search of a new girlfriend and Sid found the perfect replacement at Tractor Supply for only $10. Now that's a cheap date! She was soft and furry and just the right size and Tubby fell in love with her instantly. He initiated their courtship all the way home and right now as I type this, Tubby lays next to her on the living room floor, snoring away. Wonder what we should name her? I'm thinking "Floozie" but we'll probably just end up calling her Bombshell too. The lengths we'll go to for love!

Ho! Ho! Ho! and Away We Go!

Well, Thanksgiving came and went in a whirlwind of chaotic jubilation this year! Mom flew in the weekend before and it seemed as though we never stopped to take a breath from the minute I picked her up at the airport. We ran our little legs off shopping and sightseeing, getting the house ready and preparing food that whole week. Every evening it was well after midnight before we fell into our beds and every morning we were up with the roosters crowing. No rest for the wicked, I guess.

Not that we stood any chance of sleeping in even if we'd wanted to, with Hubby out deer hunting at the crack of dawn every morning! He got an eight-point buck his first day out and brought it home to pose for pictures. The poor thing had it's tongue lolling out the side of its mouth and Sid was holding up it's head, grinning from ear to ear. The proud and mighty hunter! He got another buck Thanksgiving morning, much to our dismay. No sooner had he got the first one all cut up and packed away in the freezer and here he comes pulling another one into the yard while Mom and I are frantically slaving away in the kitchen trying to get veggies cut up, making the dressing and getting the bird ready for the oven. And then he had the nerve to bring in freshly cut venison tenderloin for us to fry up for his breakfast! Yuck! As if we had time for that! Men!

Dinner was a success and even our two desserts turned out good, despite the fact that it was my first time to make either one and we had to tromp up the hill to borrow powdered sugar from my sweet friend and neighbor late the night before. It's a pain living so far from the nearest grocery store.

We had two days of stuffing our faces and visiting with family, playing trivia games and sitting out back by the fire and then it was time to pack up the truck and haul Mom back to Okie-homa.
I thought we'd never get everything crammed into that truck what with all the stuff she was taking back with her and all the bags of loot we'd bought while out shopping. And we couldn't forget our precious Tubby. We could never leave him behind!

The 12-hour drive went faster than we thought, especially with Sid at the wheel. That man has a lead foot if I ever saw one! Poor Mom was praying fervently in the back seat while I watched out for cops hiding on the sides of the interstate and at every on-ramp. We spent two days at Mom's doing honey-do projects for her around the house, visiting with family and taking Tubby to see my 96 year old Prampa. Prampa was tickled pink to finally meet our slobbery bundle of joy and I think Tubby was just as excited to meet him too. We took lots of pictures and made a framed collage of all the photos for Prampa's bedroom wall. It was hilarious because Prampa had had some teeth pulled the week before and so he and Tubby had matching snaggleteeth on their bottom jaws. So funny!

After hugs and kisses and a long, tearful goodbye to Mom on Monday, we headed back home to Tennessee. Tubs was such a trooper and didn't seem to mind the long ride at all, which surprised us both. We thought for sure he'd be having a fit cooped up in a car that long, but he was really good. We stopped at a casino right before we crossed out of Oklahoma and into Arkansas and actually won some gas money, which was fun. We weren't in there more than 20 minutes and came out with $160 of the Thlopthlocco Indian Tribe's hard-earned money. Still not sure how to pronounce it, but thank you Chief of the Thlopthlocco's!

The drive through Arkansas was pretty uneventful until we got within 35 miles of Memphis and the rain turned into a downright snowy blizzard! Totally caught us off guard and woke us right up. Who needs Starbucks when you've got a snow storm to keep you awake?! The next four hours we drove through snow all the way home. I had a death grip on the passenger side door the whole way and my right leg was so stiff from me ramming it into my imaginary brake pedal on my side of the truck. There were fingernail indentions in the vinyl on the door and I was praying a hedge of protection around us the whole way, alternately wishing I had an iron skillet to bonk my maniac lead-footed husband over the head with at the same time! He's a wonderful driver and all, and we did manage to make it home in one piece, but I'm sure I've got at least a dozen more gray hairs on my head than I had when we left!

I never was so glad to see our sweet little house on the hollow then I was that night. It was after midnight when we finally landed in our cloud of a bed. I was plum wore out and didn't even object when Tubby hopped up to lay beside us. In a matter of minutes, both my boys were snoring away and I soon followed. When did holidays get to be so stressful? And now it's almost Christmas. Bah Humbug!

Gobble Gobble Gobble

It's the weirdest thing, but I swear these turkey around our place seem to sense that Thanksgiving is just a week away. The week before the holiday, they veer from their normal routine and seem to just disappear. Every morning, like clockwork, they would come down the hill and across the road into our yard, peck around my bird feeders and then move on to the donkey's trough, then under the fence and up through our trees and back over the hill. But the week before Thanksgiving, you never see or hear them. It's like they know they need to make themselves invisible to hungry hunters looking for that perfectly fat Tom to put on the dinner table Thanksgiving Day.

This morning on my way to work, I was remembering Thanksgiving's past. It seems like nearly all my memories of Thanksgiving growing up were spent with my Daddy, as that was our holiday to usually spend with him. He'd pick my sister and I up and usually we'd travel over the mountain to be with our then-Stepmother's family who had this huge horse ranch in Central Oregon. It was the grandest house we'd ever seen with acres of land we could snowmobile over, a big pond for ice skating and a gigantic barn full of beautiful Arabian horses. I remember the kitchen was huge and there was every kind of food you could imagine and it seemed like the house was full of hundreds of people all talking and laughing at once. The feast would last for what seemed like hours and I remember the dining room table was so long it probably sat at least 50 people! Even the kid's table was lavishly spread. We were always in awe of Thanksgivings there.

I remember one year, Daddy surprised us with a Thanksgiving trip to Hawaii! No one told us where we were going until we actually got on the airplane and we were so excited. That year, instead of the traditional turkey, we went to a Thanksgiving Luau on the beach where they roasted a whole hog in a sandy pit. The pig was covered with banana leaves and cooked real slow until it was melt-in-your-mouth tender and there were all kinds of different dishes and fresh fruits and desserts that we'd never had before. It was a welcomed change from our cold winter Thanksgivings in the mountains! We went from bundled-up-in-warm-coats weather, to bare-legged-on-a-sunny-beach weather.

The past few years, our Thanksgivings here at home have consisted of men and football. Usually my husband invites his best buddies over and I'm the only girl in a house full of men watching football in the living room and devouring my hard work. I love it though. Thanksgiving dinner is the one meal I actually enjoy cooking and I have a routine down pretty good after all these years. It's a far cry from my first attempt at cooking Sid a Thanksgiving meal in our first apartment more than 20 years ago. That year I forgot to take the neck and giblets out of the cavity of the bird and I used about 12 sticks of melted butter to keep my dressing from drying out in the oven. It was so salty we couldn't stand to eat it. And don't think Sid ever lets me forget it either. At least my dressing is edible now!

This year I'm so excited because my Sister and her Honey and my sweet Mama will be here to spend the holiday with us. Mom can help me in the kitchen and Tiff will bring a punkin pie and board games and it will be so much more fun than watching stupid old football on TV all day! We can build a fire out back if the weather is nice, and walk off our dinner back to the pond and visit. I can't wait! I've already got my list all made and everything planned out and am counting down the days for more Thanksgiving memories to come!

Colorful Promises

The early morning weather forecast today called for an 80% chance of rain. When I got up, the weather lady was just saying the rain was about a half hour away. I walked into the kitchen to make coffee and could see the sun shining on the hillside across the road, but there were dark clouds looming behind it.

As I stood at the kitchen window watching the turkey come across our yard, I looked up at the hillside again and saw the most beautiful bright-colored rainbow arching it's way from one side of the hill, across the road and over the hill on the other side, behind our neighbor's house. It was so beautiful with that dark backdrop behind it and the bright sunshine on the green hillside in front.

All the leaves on the trees were shining in orange, yellow and red below the rainbow, almost like they were competing with each other to see who's colors were the brightest. It was so pretty, and the promise of a beautiful day!

I went out to feed the donkeys and as I stepped off the porch the rain had come up over the hill and into our yard. I looked over my shoulder and the rainbow had gone and the clouds had covered up the sunshine. I love this rainy weather. It reminds me of home in the Pacific Northwest. I wish I could have just gone back into the house and crawled under the covers to listen to the rain on the roof the rest of the day.

Ricky's Adventure

Video 19
Ricky is the oldest son of Roscoe and Ranita Raccoon. He's one of six siblings and he has always been the most mischievous of all the raccoon children. The furry family of ringtails live in a log on a peaceful hollow in Tennessee. They have a clear-water creek running through the woods they call home and lush green meadows throughout the hollow where they run and play with their friends the deer, rabbits, squirrels, possums, fox, chipmunks and even the stinky skunks, who all live nearby.

Ricky's favorite thing to do is to explore, and he does his best exploring late at night. He makes his way through the woods under the watchful eye of Hootie-etta Owl and all the other creatures of the night. Ricky makes his way through the trees and most often his wanderings find him farther and farther away from the safe boundaries of the woods. His Mama is always warning him about the dangers of wandering too far from home. She's tried to tell him of all the troubles lurking at nearby farms and yards, where farmers set traps and dogs with big teeth hide underneath porches and behind barns, waiting for critters like Ricky to amble by. But Ricky just can't seem to resist the thrill of the hunt. He knows there are treasures to be found near the farm houses and barns where "people" live. He finds all kinds of shiny objects he takes home to his brothers and sisters and almost always finds something delectable to eat in the big tall cans on the sides of houses.

One particular night, Ricky hit the midnight-snack jackpot! One of the farmer's dogs had knocked over a garbage can and litter was scattered all across the yard. There was a half-eaten baloney sandwich, a bag of crushed cookies, some fruit and some fish bones. He found a bright shiny silver can with sweet gooey-goo dripping down the sides. He picked it up in his clever little hands and tipped it forward so the goo would trickle down into his eager little mouth. He stuck his snout into the can to lick the sides and couldn't seem to get enough of that heavenly goo that tasted like sweet ambrosia and made his whiskers tingle. He stuck his head in further so his tongue could reach the bottom of the can and he slurped up the last of the tasty treat. Yum that was good!

Oh, but now Ricky had a real problem. His head was stuck inside the can and no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn't seem to get himself free. He shook his head back and forth, wiggled his ears up and down, but nothing seemed to work. He tried to walk but he couldn't see and he kept bumping into everything. Every time he bonked his head into a rock or a tree trunk, the can would ring so loud it made his teeth rattle. He'd run in spurts, back and forth across the grass, then plop himself down on the ground and roll all around trying to get himself free of the can. It seemed like hours he was wandering around blindly, not knowing where he was or what was around him. He wished he could call for help, but no one could hear him with his head inside the can. Oh how he wished he had listened to his Mama now! What was he going to do?

All of a sudden, he felt something near him in the grass. What could it be? Oh please, don't let it be one of those big dogs with the long pointy teeth! But no, it wasn't a dog, it was a "person!" And the person was actually trying to help him get loose of the can! Hooray! I'm going to be saved! The person tugged and tugged on the can until finally Ricky could see and smell and breathe in the cool air. And look! The night had passed and it was now daylight! Boy was he ever going to be in trouble for being out so long!

He hurried off into the woods as fast as his little legs could carry him, chattering all the way and telling himself he would NEVER venture that far away from home ever again!

Boogie Nights

For those of you who know and love my sweet, adorable and cherub-faced Mother, you'd never in a million years believe she used to be quite the Disco Queen back in the 70's. Mom and her best friend Charlene, used to go disco dancing on Saturday nights at a club downtown called "The Loft" and some nights they'd come back to our house with two of their favorite dancing buddies for a late night meal. The babysitter would be sent on her way and then Tiff and I would curl up sleepy-eyed on the couch in the family room and watch the disco continue in our very own kitchen.

While Mom and Charlene were preparing something to eat, the guys would turn on the stereo, move the table against the wall and dance right there on our kitchen floor. Mom's favorite dance partner was the spitting image of Deney Terrio from Dance Fever! He had the white John Travolta outfit on - white bell bottom pants with a white vest and a silk shirt - and he had the thick, dark, wavy hair. He was about a foot shorter than our Mom with her high-heeled platform shoes, but they sure did dance great together. He would grab Mom away from the stove and twirl her around the floor and Mom would show us these crazy disco moves that left us stunned! We never knew our Mom had it in her! I still tease her to this day about her old disco days.

Well, I said all that to prepare you for this funny story about a trick Sid played on her this weekend. Last week, we bought Mom her very first official cell phone. She had one, but it was one of those old timey granny phones that didn't do anything but call out. No fancy bells and whistles, no texting or picture taking. We got the phone home, programmed her numbers into it, took a few pictures for her library and set it up, including a special ringtone. And I mean special! Sid downloaded Boogie Nights by the group Heatwave as a ringtone! After he got it all programmed in, he turned the volume up as loud as it would go and we mailed her the phone.

Mom got the phone on Saturday and that night she called me for a mini-lesson in how to use it. I told her the basics - how to turn it off and on, how to text, how to make a call. The next day, I just knew that Mom being Mom would have her new phone with her so she could show it off to her sister at church. So, Sunday morning, when we knew Mom would be deep into the morning church service, we dialed her new number! I was laughing hysterically even before we dialed the number.

The phone rang and rang and rang and I laughed and laughed and laughed. About fifteen minutes later, Mom calls and Sid answers the phone. "Did you kids just call me? What in the world?!?" Mom cried in her high-pitched frantic voice. Turns out, sure enough, Mom's new phone was on and at the bottom of her purse and right in the middle of church it started singing Boogie Nights! I could just picture Mom looking around trying to figure out where in the world that music was coming from. I could see her sister's face and Mom's embarrassment when she realized it was coming from her very own purse! And Mom couldn't remember how to turn the darned thing off, so she just picked up her purse and made her way across the pew and down the aisle of the church as fast as her little legs would carry her, with Boogie Nights playing loudly the whole way! I'm laughing so hard as I type this that tears are streaming down my face! She was so mortified that she stayed in the lobby of the church for a full fifteen minutes before she returned to her seat. When she sat back down, Aunt B asked her who in the world that was calling and Mom smirked, "My silly son-in-law!"

It was priceless! I wish I could have been there to see it all happen in person, but I'm sure if I had been, I would have wet my pants! I still can't stop laughing just thinking about it. I expect she'll be calling me tonight for further lessons on how to use her new phone, and at the top of the list will be "How do I change this silly ringtone?"

Starry, Starry Night

Last night, hubby built a fire out back and we had our dinner under the stars. I baked some chicken and made au gratin potatoes, sweet peas (his favorite, but not mine!) and jalapeno cornbread and it was the prettiest night for stargazing. After we finished eating, we just leaned back in our chairs and watched the skies. We saw several airplanes criss-crossing with their blinking lights and Sid saw the first falling star of the night, streak across the sky. It was behind me and I was so disappointed that I didn't get to see it too. We kept watching though, and visiting, telling each other stories about our day and listening to the crickets chirp and all the other night sounds you hear when you live so far out in the boonies. Then, all of a sudden, we both watched as another falling star streaked across the sky right above us! I squealed with delight and was so excited to see it that I forgot to make a wish!

Later, as we loaded up our dishes to go back inside, we heard the distant howl of a coyote. We hear him often at night and he usually howls three or four times, then a few minutes later you'll hear the whole pack come crying down the hillside. It's such an eerie sound with their yelps and sharp cries echoing down the hill. Sends chills up your spine to hear them and know they are so close.

It sure was a nice night, and I'm so glad it's becoming Fall again so we can enjoy the outdoors like that.

Pilfering Pears

We have two pear trees in our front yard and every year they produce the fattest, juiciest pears ever. To look at the trees, you'd never believe fruit could actually thrive and grow on their scraggly branches. One of the trees actually has a huge hole right in the middle of the trunk, but it still gives out fruit every Fall. We've been told that way back before our house was even built, our land had a pear orchard out back, where the donkey pasture is now. These two trees are the only two survivors of that orchard. All through late August, September and October we're picking up pears by the wheelbarrow full and carting them back to the donkeys. Neighbors have been known to come by on their horses on weekends and stop to pick up a couple to snack on during the ride, and we have one lady that comes every year with her husband to pick as many as they can for her famous pear preserves. We bought a special tool that has a basket on a long stick for people to use to pick the high branches, and we store it in the tree with the hole in the trunk, so anyone passing by can use it.

This year, it seems our pear crop might be in danger of surviving the October harvest! I've been noticing we have an abundance of critters pilfering our crop before its even fully ripened. In one weekend alone, I witnessed two squirrels perched high on a branch, both munching away at pears. They pluck them from the tree and sit there gobbling away. I also watched a red-headed woodpecker, pecking away at several pears, squawking loudly while he ate. I've seen deer come into the yard late in the evening, nibbling the pears that had fallen into the yard, and I sat and watched the fattest little groundhog you ever saw, stand on his haunches in the middle of the yard and eat two pears, core and all, and then waddle back into the culvert of our ditch, where he currently lives. Last night three big, black crows came caw-cawing into the trees and I watched one of them knock a pear from the tree and then fly down and spear it with his beak and carry it across the yard. He stopped every few feet and proceeded to peck away at the pear, then speared it again and carried it further across the road. At this rate, we might not have any pears left for that annual batch of pear preserves that sweet little couple makes down the road!

It's fun to see all the joy our two forlorn pear trees are giving all the neighbors though, including the furry and fine-feathered ones! Maybe that's why these two pear trees have hung on so long all these years. The attention keeps them going. I hope and pray they continue to weather the Spring storms, so they can keep us entertained for years to come!

Terrible Tubby! Horrible Hubby!

I have this routine most weekday mornings. A half hour before my alarm goes off, I somehow wake myself up and trudge into the bathroom to turn on my hot rollers for my hair. Then I trudge back to bed and crawl back under the covers until the alarm goes off. I turn it off and usually lay there another 15 minutes. By this time, Tubby has parked himself on my side of the bed and is staring me down because he's ready to go outside and do his business.

I get up, let him out the front door, then proceed to putter around in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, taking my vitamins, putting my hair up in rollers and getting my clothes ready for the day. This takes about 15 minutes, which is usually plenty of time for Tubs to get done sniffing all the tree trunks and peeing on all my plants and flowers. Normally, by the time I get my curlers in my hair, he's sitting on the front porch waiting to come back in, however this morning that wasn't the case!

I stepped out onto the porch and called his name but he was nowhere in sight. I went to the back door and called him, but no Tubby. All three donkeys started yelling to be fed, but I didn't have time for them right now! I had to find my silly dog! Exasperated, I put on my slippers and went back out the front door to try and find him. I walked around the entire house and yard, calling his name (in my pajamas and hair rollers, mind you!) but couldn't find him. Where in the world had he gone? I walked down the fence line toward the back pasture, no Tubby. I looked over toward the neighbor's garden, no Tubby. By the barn across the street, no Tubby. I stood in the middle of the yard, panicked now that someone had driven by and lured him into their car. I was just getting ready to go inside to wake up Hubby and tell him Tubby was gone, when there the little brat was, way over in the neighbor's front yard, staring me down like nothing was amiss. Boy that dog makes me mad sometimes! I called him to me and he took his own sweet lumbering time doe-dee-doeing back over into our yard and up the porch steps. I was so mad my hands were shaking and I was seeing red! I scolded him and told him to get in his crate, but of course he had other plans and proceeded to run through the bathroom and into the bedroom where his Daddy was still sleeping.

I had to go in after him and literally drag his 80 pounds of furry stubbornness out of the room and into his crate. Bratty brat! What a way to start the day! My blood was boiling! Luckily, all the commotion hasn't awakened his sleeping Daddy and I was able to continue to get ready for work. I finished getting my clothes ready and put my make-up on, then stepped out of the bathroom and there was Tubby, laying outside the bathroom door waiting for me! "How in the world did you get out of your crate?" I grabbed him by the collar and proceeded to drag him back in. "No! No! Bad boy!" I must not have latched the door right the first time.

I got dressed and went back into the bathroom to take my curlers out and brush through my hair, spritzed on some perfume and walked back out and there he was again, sitting in the doorway of the living room! Good flippin' grief! How did he get out again? I grabbed him again and this time he extended both of his front legs ram-rod straight right out in front of him and dug his nails into the carpet. He did NOT want to go back to his crate. But back in his crate he eventually went, and this time I made double sure the latch was closed right on the door, all the while wondering in the back of my mind if maybe we had some sort of magic Houdini Dog or a playful ghost!

I was just getting ready to go back into the bedroom to kiss Hubby goodbye when the bedroom door opened and there was Sid standing there with mischief twinkling in his eyes and holding back a terrible case of the giggles. HE WAS THE CULPRIT! That ding-dong husband of mine had been pretending to be asleep when all the while he was sneaking back and forth from one side of the house to the other, letting Tubby out of his crate! And here I was, scolding poor Tubby! That dog was probably so confused. "What the heck? Mom puts me in my crate and Dad lets me out. What's up with that?" I chased Sid through the bedroom and into the bathroom where I could hear him laughing hysterically about what he had done. These boys of mine are giving me gray hair! Arrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!

Barnyard Mayhem

My favorite friend and neighbor called me this morning all upset because one of her chickens had been attacked in the night and it was suffering. She said when she went to let the chickens out of their coop for the day, the poor chicken was laying there with one eye gone and when she touched it, it started flopping all around. Her hubby had already left for work, so she wanted to know if my hubby would come up and kill the chicken for her to put it out of its misery.

I hung up the phone and gave Sid the scoop and he pulled on some jeans and his boots and headed out the back door. A few minutes later, here he came around the corner of the house with a shotgun in one hand and a baseball bat in the other and when he saw the look of horror on my face, he raised both arms up in the air and let out an evil roar! OH MY GOSH! I called my sweet friend and told her he was on his way, armed with heavy arsenal, and she worriedly said, "Oh no, my poor chicken!" and you could tell she was already having second thoughts. I told her maybe we should just put the chicken in a sack and wring its neck, but she said no, she wanted him to put a sock over its head and chop it off! Lord have mercy! I'm sure glad I had to go to work. . .

As I pulled out of the driveway, my husband flagged me down. "Are my sunglasses in your truck?" he asked. I handed them to him and as he put them on he said, "I don't want those chickens recognizing me, in case I have to go up there again some time." What a dork!

A half hour or so later, my husband called me at work and he was laughing so hard I could hardly understand a word he was saying. He said when he got up there to our neighbor's house, she decided to go ahead and let him shoot the chicken so he followed her out to the barnyard and asked which one he was supposed to shoot. He said she pointed to a chicken and said, "That one there!" and KABOOOOOOM!!! he shot the chicken! Then she screamed, "Oh no, not that one, THAT one!" and pointed to another one and KABOOOOOOM!! again. Another chicken dead! I said, "Oh no, you killed TWO of her chickens!?" and he said "Yes, and she sure seemed upset about it!" I told him she'd never call him for help again! He told me I better call her to make sure she was okay, so I hung up and dialed her number.

When she answered, I said "What happened? I'm so sorry!" Turned out Sid was pulling my leg and he didn't really kill ANY of her chickens, including the injured one! Once he got up there, it was running all around with the other chickens and seemed to be okay, even though it only had one eye, so they decided to just let it be. Sid told her to get an eye patch for it and name it Captain Morgan. Good grief!

So, that's how our morning started off today on the hollow. Never a dull moment around our place, especially with my silly husband! Sheesh!

Crazy Silly Dream

As my family can well attest to, I am the world's craziest dreamer! I could write best-selling fiction novels and script award-winning movies and television shows with some of the dreams I have! They are always so vivid and unbelievable.

I was telling my Mom and Sister about one wacky dream I had last night, and Mom said "Girl, you could write a book just on your dreams alone!" so I thought I'd blog about it instead. And before I get started, no, I did not eat chocolate before bed last night! (Chocolate can make me have some super extravagant dreams, for sure!)

Anyway, last night I dreamed I had a big booth in an antique mall, and in my booth I had this old Victorian wicker baby carriage for sale. It was white and very ornate and I'd had it for sale for a long time with no takers. I was only asking $125 for it, and that was a steal! Well, I was working in my booth, straightening things up and dusting, and this old man came up to me. He was from Transylvania or Romania or something because he had that kind of "Count Dracula from Sesame Street" kind of accent. He was a dealer in the mall too, but he really creeped me out.

He came up to me and said "I av somsing very impor-tant to show you. Come vith me." and he led me over to my antique baby carriage. He said "Look here." and pointed one of his gnarly old fingers at this little glass dome in the middle of the handle to the baby carriage. I assumed the dome housed the mechanism to steer the baby carriage left or right, but he told me that sometimes, that little glass dome housed something "very special."

He asked me if he could take it apart and see if what he suspected was true. I told him sure, no problem, and then I went about my business while he carefully took the dome off the baby carriage. Awhile later, he came to me and tapped me on the shoulder and very dramatically said, "Behold! It is true and I av found it!" He handed me this beautiful solid gold pin with a big stone of some sort in the center, encircled with gorgeous pearls. I was totally shocked! The gold was brilliantly polished and the stone was shining so brightly, as if it had never seen the light of day. It was totally untarnished. He told me it was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars! I was so excited and despite his creepiness, I just hugged him and thanked him over and over.

Wierd, huh? I sure have some doozy dreams! Then, the rest of my dream carried on with ghosts and children that could see ghosts, and me and the children chasing the ghosts up and down a staircase in an old Victorian house.

Me and hubby are going to a big antique auction tomorrow, so you can bet if they have any ornate baby carriages for sale, I'm going to be bidding on them for sure!

Assembly Required

The last weekend of May was a busy one at our house. While out exploring one Saturday, hubby and I stopped at an Ace Hardware in Bellevue and bought four adirondack chairs for our yard. I've always wanted a set, and they just happened to be on sale. The only hitch in the giddy-up was, the chairs came in a box and the box was stamped "Assembly Required." Oh boy!

We opened one of the boxes on the display and got the instructions out to see how hard it would be to put one together. The salesperson assured us it wasn't hard at all if you were organized about how you laid it all out and as long as you just took things step-by-step. Hubby seemed up for the project, so we bought four "chairs" and about nine cans of red spray paint and headed off for home.

We couldn't have picked a worse weekend for an outdoor project! We were in the midst of a record-breaking heat wave with temperatures in the 90's and it was miserable, but as soon as we got up Sunday morning, we found ourselves out in the backyard tackling the first chair. Sid set up a big piece of plywood on top of two sawhorses for our table and we laid out all the pieces of wood and bags of hardware. First step was to paint all the boards. After they were dry, we got out those handy-dandy instructions and started with chair number one.

About an hour later, we had the first chair together and boy was it ever beautiful! Exactly what I had always wanted and absolutely perfect! One down and three more to go! Poor hubby spent the entire day painting, waiting for paint to dry, and then assembling and later that evening, we had four perfect chairs around our fire pit.

While we were building chairs in the backyard, another "Assembly Required" project was happening on our front porch. It seems that two sets of red finches decided to build nests in each of our ferns and they must have been busy all day because that evening when I went to water the ferns, there were two perfectly formed nests that hadn't been there the evening before.

Now, a few weeks later, we've been enjoying our beautiful new chairs and the finches have filled their nests. One nest has five newly hatched baby birds in it, and the other has two tiny blue eggs. All of us are reaping the benefits of a job well done!

How does your garden grow?

My boss has the most beautiful yard and garden! He and his wife are out working in it for hours at a time, and you can sure tell by how gorgeous it all looks. It's like entering a different world when you walk through the gate and venture down the stone paths. Everywhere you look there's something different to marvel.

Gorgeous flowers, lushly thick green grass, ivy, statues and ornaments, birdhouses, yard art hanging here and there along the fences and from iron posts, even a rusty old bicycle parked amongst it all, with a flower-filled basket hanging from the handlebars.

They have a beautiful stone pond with water gurgling and trickling a musical tune and raised beds out back filled with all their vegetables. Cabbage, spinach, tomatoes, beans, potatoes. Everything you can imagine! He has bamboo poles that he harvested and dried in the rafters of his barn and he positions them into teepee's and grows beans and sweet peas up them. He has rocks and carefully-placed stumps with pots of flowers here and there, and boxes he made that hang along the gate and fences filled with bright colored masses.

The yard is filled with trees and flowering bushes and shrubs and every kind of flower imaginable. Lilacs, irises, petunias, peonies, tulips, azaleas, lavender, poppies, daisies, clematis, wisteria. Purple, red, white, yellow, pink and blue. All the colors of the rainbow everywhere you look.

He has several different roses in pinks and yellow and red and everything grows so lushly and abundantly. What a wonderful haven for all the butterflies and bunnies too! God has blessed their hands with the magic touch because the whole yard just flourishes with beauty.

I hope someday I can have such a beautiful garden at my home to escape to. What a peaceful place they have created and how proud they are to share it with all of us!

Good Vibrations

Boy have we had some doozy storms so far this Spring. We had a big one whip through last night around 2:00 a.m. and it kept us up well into the early morning, as two more bouts came through one right after another.

Our poor dog Tubby is just scared to death of the storms. When the wind starts blowing and the thunder starts booming, you'd think it was the end of the world by the way he acts. Last night when the first crack of lightning shook the house, poor little Tubby jumped up in bed with us quicker than Jumpin' Jack Flash! He crawled in between the two of us and started shaking like a leaf. It felt like our bed had turned into one of those fancy vibrating beds the hotels have! We couldn't calm him down at all. His eyes were glued to the nearest window and every time he saw a flash light up the sky, he started shaking even more because he knew that boom was right behind it. Poor little guy.

He hates it even more when the weather person is on the screen and all those colored maps are tracking the storm. He watches that tv with his head bobbing up and down like he can understand what they are saying. You just wonder what all the thoughts are going through his head.

But since it's just now April and May is right around the corner, I imagine we'll have plenty more storms to come to liven up the household. I just hope poor Tubby can endure it without giving himself an ulcer.

Wish upon a firefly. . .

Last night when I took Tubby out for his evening walk around the yard, I spotted the first firefly of the season! I treat the first firefly sighting like you do when you wish upon the first star in the night sky. You make a wish real quick and then hope it comes true before the summer's end.

I looked all around the yard, but this one single firefly was the only one flitting around, blinking his bottom on and off in the dark. I've heard this is how fireflies call their mates, by blinking on and off in the dark, so I imagined him flying around calling "Fiona! Where are you? It's me, Freddie, your long lost love!"

I sat on the porch steps and waited for Tubs to do his business, and thought about fireflies and where they went during the colder months and how was it they knew when to come back? And what makes their rear ends light up like that? They are so fascinating and magical and when they cover the lawn and trees and bushes, they look like tiny, bright twinkle lights.

Summer must be coming early this year and I can't wait for Freddie to find Fiona and all the other fireflies to come out and dance in our yard!

A Country Drive

These are the things I saw on my drive to work this morning. . . One lone turkey Tom with his tail feathers fanned out, prancing in a field and calling for a mate. A squirrel running along a fence with a nut in his mouth. Kids waiting for the bus in the rain with their raincoats and umbrellas. Pink and white dogwood trees blooming everywhere. A beautiful green field with five deer eating their grassy breakfast. Three tiny black-and-white spotted calves standing in a pasture. A long fence row lined with tulips blooming in red, yellow, white and purple. A duck sitting on a fence in the rain! Had to do a double-take on that one! Two starlings taking a bath in a mud puddle on the side of the road. Purple red bud trees blooming, surrounded by green green green everywhere. What a beautiful way to start the day! Happy Spring!

Oh What a Night!

Last night was our first threatening Spring storm of the season, and boy was it a doozy! All day long the newscasters were preparing us for the worse, which was supposed to happen sometime in the evening. It's so nerve-wracking to have all the local stations on constant alert, interrupting your normal television programs for severe weather updates and watching the graphics on the map as they tracked the storm coming in from the west. Then as it gets closer and closer, they start putting up charts that show times of arrival and then it really gets scary. All along the way they're reporting damages in the first-hit counties and at the bottom of the screen you see the warnings as they post them for flash flooding or worse yet, tornadoes!

Hubby was stuck in Nashville working a hockey game, so it was just me and Tubs, riding out the storm together. Poor Tubby was a bundle of nerves and shaking like a leaf. The wind was blowing so hard and the rain was hitting the house sideways in sheets. We could hear the CLANG!BANG! of a loose sheet of tin on the roof of the barn across the road and our screen door kept thudding against the front porch. The lightning was intense and the thunderboomers shook the whole house.

I had our "tornado" bag all packed, just in case, and had Tubby's leash hooked on his collar. I had the candles and hurricane lamps set out around the house with a box of matches by each one. The power went off twice, but thankfully it came back on. When we have these scary storms you can't help but wonder if this will be the one that picks our house up and carries it away. Will this be the night one of our walnut trees comes crashing through the roof? Are my donkeys safe out there in the barn? I wonder if I can make it to the neighbor's storm shelter, or should I just pull all the blankets and pillows into the tub and ride it out? A million thoughts and worries go through your head.

And just like that, the worst of it has passed us by and the winds die down and the newscaster moves on to other counties and I breathe a sigh of relief that we were spared.

On my way to work this morning, I got to see the aftermath. Huge trees that I pass every day, snapped in two like twigs or completely uprooted. Big sheets of rusted tin from barn roofs laying by the side of the road. A neighbor's grill laying in the middle of the yard where it was blown off their back patio. The creeks and rivers were all filled to the top and whooshing over the banks, and driveways along the way were all washed out with gravel across the roads and tree limbs scattered here and there.

Thankfully, our house was still standing and we're safe and sound to carry through the weekend. I did however, hear the weather lady say this morning that we're in for another round of storms on Monday and Tuesday, so I guess we'll start all over again with the nail biting then. Poor Tubby! I don't know if his little heart can take all the stress.....

Happy Birthday Tubby!

Today our Tubby turns two years old! We thought his birthday was this upcoming Friday, but after a trip to the doctor's office yesterday, we were informed his birthday is actually today. I guess this means I'll be baking a cake tonight when I get home from work! Probably carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, since that's his Daddy's favorite! Yum!

Happy Birthday Tubby! We love you!

Visiting with Prampa

When a man is 96 years young, he tends to have a lot of stories to tell. Sunday night, I called my sweet Prampa and spent about twenty minutes on the phone, listening to him do just that. . . tell me stories!

Normally, you can't carry on a very good phone conversation with Prampa because he's so hard of hearing and you find yourself either yelling into the phone or having to repeat yourself over and over. But for some reason, this particular Sunday night he could hear me just fine and he was in a good mood and ready to reminisce. We made small talk at first, me asking him how he was feeling, him telling me about his various aches and pains but how overall he felt pretty good for an old fella. He asked about the donkeys, and wondered what kind of trouble they'd been getting into, and asked about Hubby and our slobbery-jowled dog Tubs. We talked about the weather and then about the deer and turkey I'd seen around the house the past few days and then one question led to a story that he remembered and so I sat back and listened as he told one right after another.

The telling of the story is what Prampa does best, but words on paper or typewritten across a computer screen don't do the stories justice. Hearing it first hand, directly from a southern Prampa's mouth is the best way to hear it. His sayings and pronunciation of certain words, his slang and colorful language and the mischief in his laugh, all make the stories come to life and you can just picture it all happening as if you were there witnessing it for yourself. I'll do my best to recount them for the reader though.

His first story came about as I reminded him of a skunk he'd spotted in the garage a few weeks earlier. I had asked him if he'd seen it lately and he laughed and told me no, he hadn't happened upon it again since that first sighting when he quietly closed the door and stepped away. He said he'd had his share of run-ins with skunks in the past and proceeded to tell me about one particular time when he went night hunting with his old dog years ago, when Grandma was still living. He said he'd gone hunting in the woods, trying to tree a possum or coon, when all of a sudden his old dog came upon a big, fat skunk. The dog scared the skunk and the skunk turned tail and sprayed them both. He said they were covered from head to toe with stink and when he got back to the house, he didn't know what he was going to do. It was after midnight when he got up to the front door, and knowing he couldn't go inside smelling like he did, he figured he'd just strip down right then and there and get rid of those smelly clothes. Once he got "nekkid" he realized he was locked out, so he rang the doorbell. Here came Grandma to the front door and wouldn't you know, she turned the "dad-blamed" porch light on! There he stood in his birthday suit for all the world to see with the porch light shining down on him like a beacon! I'm sure he gave poor Grandma quite a shock! Luckily, since it was so late, he says none of the neighbors saw him before he got safely into the house. I could just picture it all as he told me.

The next story he told me was one of his many fishing stories. Prampa has always been an avid fisherman. To this day, he goes fishing with his buddies as often as he can. This particular story was about a time when he and his friends decided to do a little night fishing at a lake north of their home town. He said they stopped at a creek along the way to catch some crawdads to use as bait. When they got to the lake, it was pitch dark and they grabbed their poles and buckets and headed down the bank. Prampa picked himself out a spot, pulled out two poles and baited his hooks and threw the lines out in the water. He sat down and looked to his right and there down the bank aways sat an old black woman looking back at him. She had her pole in the water with her tackle box on one side and her fish bucket on the other. Prampa said they all fished awhile, pulling in carp here and there and filling up their buckets. All of a sudden, one of Prampa's poles bent way down toward the water and he knew he'd hooked a big one! He said he stood up and grabbed the pole and the fish just fought and fought. The old woman came over to watch and Prampa said she yelled out "My lands! You got a biggun on there, you shore do!" After what seemed like forever, Prampa finally got that fish reeled in and when he pulled it up onto the bank and they both looked down to see what he'd caught, there was a big, black, slimy, three-foot long eel! He said that old woman's eyes got round as saucers and she hollered out "Laws a mercy!" and ran straight up the bank as fast as she could with her arms above her head, screaming the whole way! He said they fished for three more hours that night and that old woman never did come back for her stuff. She just left it there on the bank! He laughed and laughed.

I asked him what in the world he did with that eel and he said he put it in the bucket and took it home! When he got home, he said he put a little water in the bathtub and put the eel inside. The next day when he went to check on it, it was gone! I asked him where it went and he said it had slithered out of the tub and onto the floor so he had to pick it up and put it back in. He said it was too slippery for him to grab hold of, so he had to run outside and get some dirt on his hands so he could get a better grip. "Ewwww!" I said, "Did you end up eating it?" and Prampa proceeded to tell me no, he himself didn't but his father-in-law did. He said you can't really ever "cook an eel done" and I asked him what he meant and he said no matter how long you cook an eel, you'll always have blood on the plate. Yuck!

After a few more stories about his days trapping coyotes and other furry varmints, I was tuckered out from all the laughing and I could tell he was too. We said our "I love you's" and "good-byes" and the rest of the night I thought about Prampa in his striped overalls that he always wears and what a character he is and how lucky I am to have him in my life!

Vivid Imagination

Last night, I dreamed I was in a strange house in Hawaii. There was a terrible storm and all the power had been knocked out and I was standing in a room with a sliding glass door, looking out into the dark when all of a sudden a huge tree was uprooted and blown against the house.

The tree came alive and it was clinging to the side of the house, looking in at me through the sliding glass door, moaning and groaning. It's limbs were flailing about like arms and legs as the wind blew it around and it had a face, kinda like what I would envision a sasquatch to look like, hairy and brown. It was hanging on for dear life and it's legs (roots) were tilted out behind it in the wind and it just kept on groaning and groaning.

Then Tubby came to me in the darkness, probably awakened by the groaning tree, and he kept rubbing against my legs and pulling on me to follow him. We stumbled through the room and down a dark hallway and then Tubby led me to a cardboard box on the floor, full of tiny black and white kittens, all mewling for me to feed them. I knew I needed to find them some food, so I went outside and started climbing the steepest hill I've ever seen in my life and when I looked down at my legs, they were muscled and tanned and powerful and I couldn't believe it was my very own legs! I've never had such beautifully toned legs!

I kept climbing and climbing and was amazed at how well I was doing when all of a sudden I had reached the top and I was enveloped in a huge mass of hockey players running out of a building in their uniforms, where they had just won a huge championship game. They were all running and cheering and one of the players grabbed me up in a massive bear hug and twirled me around and around. Then he put me down and looked into my face and for some reason I just knew he was going to kiss me, so I ran away, back into the house to find the kittens.

As I went room to room in the dark house, I came upon a young girl and boy. It was like I had night-vision goggles on or something because I could see them, but they couldn't see me. The girl was turned toward me and I could tell she could sense I was there, but she couldn't see me. She was reaching out toward the bed where the boy laid and he was reaching up for her at the same time, but she never took her eyes off me. The boy patted her on the back and she thought it was someone else touching her, so she screamed his name "Jesse!!!" and the look of horror on her face was somehow comical to me because I woke myself up laughing out loud at the frightened look on her face.

This is what happens when I drink hot chocolate before bed! Sheesh!

Newest Neighbors

My favorite friend and neighbor finally got the chickens she's always wanted! They are adorable and she couldn't be more excited about them. The first day they were delivered, she said she must have walked back and forth to the coop to check on them at least ten times, all the way up to 9:00 that night! I probably would have done the same thing if it was me. She and I both are so attached to our animals.

She started out with a rooster and five hens and they are already laying eggs for her each day. She says she gets about three to four eggs from them daily, which is awesome! No more buying eggs from the store!

The rooster is beautiful and she named him Lil' Jerry. He's part Dominique and is mostly white with black spots. He's very handsome and regal and quite the protector of his harem. The hens are Black Sex-links and they are so fat and cute. Their bottoms have downy fluff feathers that poof out and their necks have varied sheens of red in them. They are so pretty. She named one Tiny because it was the smallest hen, and one she named Lucy because she had the most red on her head and neck. You have to pronounce it Luuuuuuucy though, like Ricky Ricardo on "I Love Lucy."

She's got them in a temporary home for now, out by the goats. The shed is adorable and cozy and she has two iron hay feeders nailed to the inside of each wall and filled with straw. One of the hens claimed one of the wall feeders right away for her nesting spot and got comfortable. She has an adorable two-story nesting box against one wall that looks like a chicken condo. It has four nesting boxes on top and four on the bottom, but none of the hens liked that for some reason. She also laid some five-gallon buckets on their sides and filled them with straw and surprisingly, those were what the hens loved the most and fought over for nesting spots. The hens would crawl into the buckets and sit down in the straw and then remove or add more straw with their beaks as needed to fluff them up or thin them out. It was so cute to watch.

In the corners of the shed, she had placed tree branches across to form roosts for the chickens to sleep on and they'd fly up there to roost. It was just so cute and rustic. This house is just temporary for them though, because her husband is building her the most adorable chicken house. It's almost complete, but he's trying to finish the fencing around the chicken yard so the foxes and hawks can't get in and harm the chickens.

I'm so jealous! I wish my husband would let me have my very own chickens too, but he says I've got my hands full enough with three donkeys for now. I'm going to keep trying to wear him down though. When and if I ever get my own brood of chicks, I'll be sure to let you know! Until then, I'll just enjoy my new neighbors as much as I can!