Monthly Archives: April 2008
>I am trying really, really hard to post pictures of our trip to the ft worth botanic gardens, but I can’t find them. I used my new camera and I think the images downloaded into outer space. Actually, I can see them on the computer, but when I try to find them through this posting thing-y, they’re not there. So, I will have to wait until my daughter comes home and can fix it. I wonder if she’s sorry yet that she made a blog for me. Probably getting close. Oh, well, yesterday was her birthday and I am suddenly reminded that she owes me! Forever!
>I believe it’s time to introduce the animals. We’ll start with Bonnie aka My Birthday Present. She is a Yorkie, a big Yorkie. We’re glad, though, because she needs to be sturdy. After all, she’s not living the fu-fu life – she’s a country dog and in charge of everything and everybody. One of her favorite places to take a nap is under my bed with her face peeking out from under the bedskirt. I think she knows how pretty she looks there. But, don’t let looks deceive you; she can be pretty and sweet, but mostly she’s rough and tough. A terrier through and through.
Next, but really first, is Maggie. She is definitely head dog at 14 years old. She’s a Springer spaniel and as sweet and loyal as a dog can be. Stroking her head is like running your hand over the softest velvet imaginable. She’s having a hard time getting around these days; her back legs don’t work very well and she can hardly see or hear. She has no duties, just enjoying her twilight years and “mothering” any kitties that come along. Dooley is in this picture with her. Can you tell where one ends and the other begins?
My youngest daughter found Dooley in the street, almost dead, and brought him home in a box. He was tiny and could hardly lift his head. I nursed him back to health and then Maggie took over. Then, we all got ringworms, but that is another story. A very funny one, by the way. Oh, and Dooley has 6 toes on each front paw.
Here’s Minnie Mae. She is head cat at 15 years old. She has no patience for the other cats (that’s putting it nicely – she hates them!) I always wanted a Calico cat and we found her at the lake. She was wild as could be, but I caught her with some turkey lunch meat and she’s been with us ever since. I am sure she has no regrets!
This is Raggs. He appeared in our backyard as a teeny, tiny kitten and was raised by Maggie. He hardly lets us touch him, but he’s cute and sweet – and huge. He’s a great, big baby and still sleeps with Maggie. We haven’t seen him in a while, though, and I fear the worst.
And, Jack. Black Jack is how he started out. Then, he went to live with my future son-in-law and became Black Jack Brown. Now, he’s back with us. But, he’s still Black Jack Brown because I like it that way. We found him at the lake, too. He was smart enough to endear himself to my husband which guaranteed him a new home. He is one of the most affectionate cats we’ve ever had. He’s big and feels like mink. We love him. Even after the night he spent locked up in my car. Need I say more?
I have to include Rocket. He belongs to my daughter and son-in-law, but is part of the gang while they are in school and living with us, but looking for a little house to buy or rent. He is a Cairn terrier and looks like a little wolf. He is a good, funny boy and we will miss him when he moves.
So, that’s the gang. They are so much fun – and so much trouble!
Okay, I knew it already. But, now, I’m 100%, absolutely, positively, no-doubt-about-it sure…I married the right person. The other day, he walked in, opened up his work-gloved hand and said, “Here’s a dead thing for your dead area.” Most of the things in the picture were “gifts” he brought me because he knows me. I like collecting things I find outside and have a little place I keep them (I had always thought of it more quaintly as my nature collection, but now it will forever be my dead area because it makes me laugh.) True love…
PS…he also brings me things like this
…just so you don’t think he only brings me dead things.
> I don’t think anyone has ever sat in this chair but me. So, I guess that makes it mine. It is in a corner of my bedroom and I sit here in the morning with the window open, the curtain pulled back and praise the Lord with the birds, the wind, whatever is raising its voice at the time. On a perfect day, I have a devotional (usually with Oswald Chambers), read my Bible (I’m reading through the Gospels), sing a hymn (or five), memorize a Psalm (just finished Psalm 33) and write in my journal. This is the way I always wanted to start my day, but life just wasn’t sympathetic to my plan before. Now I have time to take better care of myself spiritually and physically. Which seems backwards. I wish I had had this peace and strength while my girls were growing up. Looking back, did we just fly through childhood by the seat of our pants? Yes. But God heard our “Help me, help me, help me! Thank You, thank You, thank You!” prayers and we made it. Maybe, somewhere in my heart, I had a chair where I met with Him and that was good enough for a loving Father who understands us better than we do ourselves. Who forgives, forgets and covers it all with His grace. Thank You, thank You, thank You!
Well, during the writing of that first paragraph, all three kids called with a problem or question, Bonnie barked frantically to be let outside, when I went out with her I saw that a cat had thrown up in a chair on the porch, the concrete truck is on its way to pour sidewalks around the house and because of a heavy rain it will ruin the yard, all the animals are in the house to be kept out of the way of the workers, Rocket wants to eat Minnie Mae (the cat in the utility room)…I will sit in the chair in my heart today.