Don't Wait

As the New Year begins, out of habit, I make resolutions. The older I get the more lax I get at making them. By now if I’ve not disciplined myself enough to conquer the intentions, I’m betting they probably don’t have a chance.
What I want to share with you was not a resolution, but an intention. An intention left undone. Today I carry a handwritten list in my bill fold as a reminder. A reminder to "do it now".
I had good intentions to have Danny over. Danny was Brad’s younger brother. He was fun loving, had a heart of gold and would do anything for you. He had gone through some rough times and was living alone. I had good intentions. I would ask him over for supper,sometime soon. But I got busy.
He's on that list that I now carry in my purse. The list where I had noted to wash the car, take back the coat, buy batteries, look at new fencing, check on tractor tires, call the bank, have my hair colored. Those busy activities were checked off. “Have Danny over for supper” was not. I never got around to it. I never had Danny over. He died a short while after listing my good intention.
I will carry that note with me forever. And with it the regret of not taking the time to check him off my list.

Resolution Reccomendation

Cease from Anger.
That’s what my daughters suggested I do when one of them had the idea that we exchange New Year’s resolution recommendations for each other. Brad thought that was a bad idea, but we did it anyway.
They think I’ve been overly distressed. A little angry. Afraid I’m going to “stroke out.”
Well I probably am, have been, will continue to be, will try and work on it, and probably will.
But I’m betting that anyone that realizes what’s going on in our country is probably feeling pretty angry right now too. If not, ignorance is bliss, or they have a government job.
I’ve experienced a lot of emotions during my life: sadness, jealousy, embarrassment, fear, and anger to some degree.
Anger doesn’t just occur. It stems from something. I believe in my case it’s fear and frustration.
I grew up during the Cold War. Nothing was more feared than the A bomb during the 50’s and nothing scared me more than the “test” performed daily on our black and white T.V. suggesting that “in case this was an actual emergency” we would follow the instructions. Heaven only knew what that “actual emergency” was. I was pretty sure it had something to do with a mushroom cloud, crouching in a corner with our heads between our legs and a fall out shelter.
During the 70’s the Vietnam War also put the fear in me. I was a newlywed. About a month into our marriage Brad received his draft card; lucky number 11 and “bam” he was drafted. We awoke early on a cool September morning. I kissed him goodbye, and he left to board the draft bus for a two hour drive into OKC for a physical, thinking he would never return. God blessed him with an accident that cut his finger off when he was a year old (I’m sure his mother and dad didn’t think that was a blessing at that time, but they did when he returned home that evening on the bus. He had been “rejected” as he couldn’t use his trigger finger..
During those years fear was overwhelming. But not frustration. We knew who our enemy was. It was other countries; Japan, Germany, Vietnam. Not my own. Today that war is here in the U.S.A. being waged on Americans by Americans.
We’ve never maneuvered this territory before. We’ve never felt this kind of fear and frustration. Our enemy has always been on the outside. Today that enemy is sitting in the White House, in Congress, in our nation’s Agriculture Department etc. We’re losing sight of who our friends are. Who can we trust?
I believe as an American if you’re not displaying some anger and frustration about what’s going on, you’re probably not aware of what’s happening to our country; the Socialist Tsunami, Islamic sympathizers-Christian bashers gaining control of our school’s curriculum, senseless legislation being ushered in by radical environmentalists and animal activists who know nothing about running a business, but who have been given the reins to run ours.
You bet I’m angry. The past year I’ve watched the dismantling of my nation. I was really counting on my grandchildren being able to grow up in the same nation I grew up in (fear and all). Right now I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.
The Lord said to turn the other cheek if someone strikes you. On the other hand he must have gotten pretty angry when he turned over the tables of those selling items in the church. He also suggested that when you do become angry, not to sin. I’m trying to figure this all out.
I’m aware of my anger and frustration. But I’ve read that there is good anger and bad anger. Anger that fires you up to get things done. I’d like to think that’s the kind I’ve got. In the meantime, I just turned on Joyce Meyer. It may be a coincidence, but I hardly think so. I think I’ll be ordering her new book, “Frustration and How To Deal With It.” Seems like I’m not alone.

It's Life

This is my backyard. This is our office. It's located in my backyard. So are the loading chutes, sheds, barns, silos and molasses tanks (tanks full of molasses that cattle find extremely tasty and nutritious.) Loading cattle here has been a common sight for as long as I can remember.
Tonight we loaded bulls. It started to snow when they were loading. I hope the driver and the bulls get to their destination safely.
The bulls have been in my backyard for several weeks. Getting fat. Getting ready to go north. Getting ready to...uh... go to slaughter, or should I say "harvest." Not too long ago that word reminded me of wheat. Kind of like the word "gay" used to make me think of someone happy.
Anyway, today our "politically correct" friends recommend we don't refer to the word that actually describes what has taken place since Adam and Eve. The word that describes what has taken place for centuries to insure human survival. No, today we must treat the word like candied fruit. Sugar coating reality. We might offend tender ears if light is shed on the gruesome origin of food, clothing and consumables.
However you want to say it, it still results with meat on my table, leather for my shoes, buttons on my coat, crayolas for my grandkids, deodorant for my underarms, perfume for my pulse points and footballs. It means I can carry a purse, wear gloves, eat ice cream, and enjoy butter on my bread.
I've watched this cycle of life and death from the time I was old enough to walk. I love cattle. I love animals. I was sad when those bulls loaded on that truck tonight. For the past few weeks I'd been watching them and listening to them. They fought each other. Bellered. Bawled. And dug up dirt here in my backyard.
Tonight their fate was sealed when they boarded the truck. It's part of life.
But it's not keeping me from praying for their safe arrival.

chainranchlady.com

Oh, Poop

It's been quite a week. I had the opportunity to spend the night with my youngest daughter, her husband, and their 3-- under 4. She made Christmas goodies and I organized cabinets. That night I had a new "teeth brushing" experience. Their bathroom lighting was a little dim, so was my sight- absent my glasses. The tube looked like Crest, felt like Crest, squeezed like Crest but it sure didn't taste like Crest. Boudreaux's Butt Paste just doesn't have that same fresh minty flavor.
After leaving their place, Brad and I had the opportunity to take 4 of the other 6 (3 under 4 and a 9 year old) Christmas lightseeing. Prior to the light viewing, begging resulted in a stop at the Golden Arches. The playground was just as you'd expect...packed with hoards of gleeful kids playing in a less than sanitary environment while parents watch on as their little ones perform grotesque antics.
After witnessing a boy of 5 or 6 laying face down licking the carpet I questioned our sanity in bringing them their during flu season. Nearly an hour into having more fun than anyone should be allowed, it dawned on me that I was missing a girl. I called her name, no answer.
The other 3 were alerted to scour the tubes. Nothing. Just as I was going in to search myself, the blond haired beauty appeared from behind the shoe stand. An angelic demure smile on her face. As I approached her the smell hit me. Brad motioned something to me."What?" I mouthed. He motioned again. As I picked her up, I realized why startled glances were being shared. I can only say it ended with a trip to the dollar store to get a new set of clothes.
After the dollar store stop we headed to the lights. The excitement was more than they could bear but soon dwindled as the lighting disappeared after entering the park. The entrance was beautifully lit but that's where it ended. The 80 mile round trip to view a few lights at the entrance of what used to be a lighting extravaganza, and the disappearance of the rest, was a little disappointing and hard to explain to two 4 four year olds---but nothing that ice cream wouldn't fix. The 40 mile trip home was quiet except for an occasional ice cream slurp.
The rest of the week resulted in more busy bodies spilling, pooping, dropping, breaking, crying, burping, laughing, stuttering, questioning, hugging, spilling, dropping, crying, pooping.............
Yea, it's been quite a week...and I wouldn't trade it with anyone, poop and all.

Merry Christmas
Andy
chainranchlady.com

Not So Far Away

Consolidated Six (Con 6) , the country school where most of the community received their education was a large lonely looking blond brick structure that sat solitaire in the middle of a field several miles from our house. My dad and his sisters attended school there. When the school was closed in the late 50's the building became the hub for community activities ranging from serving as a voting precinct to the gathering place for many, many holiday get togethers, the grandest being the Con 6 Christmas Program. The faithful Con 6 Club ladies met monthly to organize these activities which were anything but mediocre. The dinners were served on white linen tablecloths with linen napkins. Emmense effort was put in every detail.


"The Con 6 Men's Quartet" consisted of (L-R) My Uncle Lloyd, our good friend and neighbor Bud, my dad, and our mailman, LeRoy. These guys could really sing. My dad and Bud can still carry a great tune. Uncle Lloyd and LeRoy have since passed on.
Those days were filled with wonder and excitement. It was a simpler time, a time I thought was gone forever. Well, I was wrong. Our daughter & son-in-law, and their three children have moved home from back east and are managing a portion of our ranching operation. They now live in a community much like the one I grew up knowing. The hub of their community revolves around a country church in the middle of nowhere...but don't let that fool you. The citizens in that area are many and they turn out religiously to celebrate holidays, assist those in need, and hold bake sales & auctions to raise money for missions, all with generosity and open arms.
Our kids had a house warming/ blessing this past week. Our family traveled over to this community to join in the celebration. It started with a meal of chili and stew, homemade cornbread, pies, and cakes at the country church and ended up with everyone traveling to their house where the minister blessed their home and family. It was a wonderful experience. Each visit to that community takes me back to a time I only thought had disappeared. I can't wait til next week-my daughter is in charge of the community Christmas Program. My contribution:
Making C-h-r-i-s-t-m-a-s letters.

Grateful

After venting in "Wasted" a voice of positive gratitude is in order. It's easy to complain about life's problems, it's a little harder to take the time to be thankful for what we are blessed with. I try to thank the Lord each day for all he's blessed me with. We're supposed to thank him for our trials too, those make us stronger. I have a hard time with that one, but that's what we are suppose to do...I'll try to do better.
I'm Grateful The Lord Has Given Me:
His grace, forgiveness, and mercy; Brad, my folks, my 94 year old grandmother Hazel, my kids, my sons and daughters-in-laws & their families, my 9 grandkids, our health, living in the U.S., being raised by christian parents & grandparents, our secretary-Linda, our abundant supply of food, my dishwasher, my washer and dryer, running water, Ronald Reagan, our great employees, the fact my house has heat in the winter & is cool in the summer, my church family, my vehicle and fuel to go in it, country churches, small town grocery stores, electricity, the fact that I can walk, talk and get around, laughter, small towns, big towns, beautiful sunsets, beautiful sunrises, pets, Marty Robbins & Johnny Horton, education, traveling, eating out, growing up in the 50's, being able to fix Thanksgiving dinner, having all our kids and grandkids living nearby, good preachers, good music and being able to sing along with it and listen to it, dreams, growing up country, good coffee, good tea, pumpkin pie, fresh water, Glenn Beck, books, thrift stores, babies, little kids and their great stories, big kids & any morsal of conversation they might share, old people and their great stories, people excited about life, weddings, good restaurants, being able to run, good running shoes, comfortable boots, swimming pools, having 8 years with my Aunt Mo, warm clothing & Cuddle duds, small town commitment and loyalty, our founding fathers, veterans, Woody Guthrie's ability to write great ballads, good teachers, good friends, good chocolate, horses, spring- summer- winter- fall, the Bible, good bread, hot springs, massages, pedicures & manicures and the people willing to give them, did I say living in America?, living in Kansas and getting to know and appreciate it, our banker, my sweeper, my Total Gym, the air I breath and life. These are just a few of the things that I'm thankful for. I would write more but he's given me a beautiful day to enjoy- Sunshine and No Wind!

Stupid Human Tricks

This could have been far from funny, but we can look back and laugh now.
One hot summer afternoon my folks took my brother and I to the Little Sahara Sand Dunes, an area covered with acres and acres of sand used for recreational purposes. In the 60's the dunes didn't have much there. Today it's covered with dune buggies and thousands of people...I still haven't figured that out--what draws a person to want to get hot and sandy in the middle of the summer. Anyway, that day 40 plus years ago, my folks met another couple there and we had a picnic. This couple had no children and we soon became bored. The picnic area was a good distance from where the car was parked. After lunch we headed back to the car. The car was new and we were infatuated with its new unique gadget. We thought we'd go experiment with it. The push button trunk opener was one of the most amazing things we had seen. Being bored kids we weren't satisfied just popping it and shutting it, and popping it and shutting it, and popping it and shutting it. We decided to take turns getting into the trunk. I got in first. He shut the trunk and popped it. Out I came. Now it was his turn. He got in, I shut the trunk, pushed the button...nothing........nothing at all. I pushed and pushed. We had popped it one too many times. In a muffled voice he said, "Aren't you going to let me out?' I said, "Mont, it won't open." He frantically piped, "don't tease me." I told him I wasn't teasing. He began to scream, and kick and scream. That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, leave him yelling and screaming locked in that sweltering trunk and run to get help. Today we both are claustrophobic.