Thursday, March 27, 2014


There was once a man. A man who was a hero to a small girl. Later he became the monster in her bed. But in the beginning he was her hero. Later, when she became a woman grown, a woman who had battled her demon and won, she thought she had forgiven him. Not forgotten, but forgiven.

For many years they lived a truce of sorts. She was able to love him as she thought a daughter should. He loved her as a father should.

The man aged. His body began to fail him. He fought cancer and won. Life continued on. The man aged well for many many years. Then his senses began to fail him. First his hearing, then the ultimate blow to him. He lost his sight. When that happened he lost his will. It seemed as if he had given up on life, given in.
He mourned these losses, especially his sight. He became lost in anger. He began to disappear.

Then one day he fell into the very pit of hell.
He suffered a massive body destroying stroke.
As the woman grieved for the hero he once was, one day she had a fleeting thought and ask herself, "Is this his punishment for the evil he had brought into her life and the lives of others?" Oh the guilt that wracked her with this thought. She told herself no, and no again. He had never openly voiced his sins of the past, but had openly ask his God for forgiveness. So, no, and no again, she told herself, God does not punish in this way. She forgave herself for the thought, and once again forgave him.

As time passed he did not heal, only became less able, more frail,  and the woman grieved for him, for what might have been. She grieved because he could no longer function as he wished, as all those who loved him wished. He had lost the ability speak, the ability to  swallow, the ability to control all bodily function. There were still times when he could express himself. A sound, a nod, an eye blink, a squeeze of the hand, a smile. All of these he shared with those who loved him. Except for the girl who had lost her hero. He did not respond to her touch, to the sound of her voice. She felt as if she had disappeared. She was filled with pain.

Then, one day, not long ago, his body betrayed him even more. It began to shut down. He was placed on a ventilator and the family was told they  must search their hearts for answers. Did their hero wish to live this  way? Completely reliant on others to fulfill his every need? Reliant upon a machine to pump the gift of life into him?

His loved ones fought, they wailed, they grieved. Finally the woman who had lost her hero decided to ask him,  "Do you want to live this way? Do want this machine to govern your life for you?"  For the first time in so many months he responded to her.  His eyes met hers. He answered her. "No, no and no again."
As grief held her body rigid, the woman began to feel a sense of peace. Her hero of old had had his say. He had been able to express his wishes. It would be his wishes that would be fulfilled.

But, suddenly there was a turnaround for him. He slowly gained strength. The family began to hope. Their broken but much loved hero would return to them. But as so often happens hope was soon snatched away.
He became very very ill, was rushed to hospital. Life saving measures were taken.  His loved ones were questioned once again. Answers were given. The last to be ask was the woman who as a young girl had lost her hero. Eyes wide open she looked at those she loved so fiercely. They were all so hopeful, so filled with fear. She did not have the courage to answer as she knew she should. She answered from ages past, she answered as a little girl who idolized her hero. She answered, "Do what must be done to keep him living."
He lives this night. Dependent upon a machine to fill his body with life.

This night when she left his bedside, when she left her family who were so filled with hope. She left feeling as if she had broken a promise to her hero of old.

She grieves.

Monday, October 22, 2012


I'm becoming a farmer, not your usual kind of farmer though.

I've kinda been a farmer all along. But, I didn't do any of the work. I rented the ground out to another real farmer.

I found a USDA farm program that is going to pay me grow wildflowers! I love flowers! Someone is going to pay me to grow them!  Amazing!

I was so excited when I placed my bid...imagining my backyard filled to the brim with lovely lovely blooms, butterflies, bees, maybe even quail! 

My imagination was running amok.I didn't think about the work involved in creating all of that beauty. I mean, yeah, I researched  it, I knew it would be a lot of work. Special rules to follow. I knew there will be no beauty the first summer,  I've grown small patches of wildflowers before, I know it takes a few seasons to get the flowers established, the first summer it will look like a field of weeds. But I also know, that as year two comes around the beauty will arrive. 

But...then...I won my bid. Oh My Gosh! Oh My Gosh! 

The ground  is bordered by forest, there will be thousands of tree seedlings I will have to remove each spring, acres and acres of seedlings removed singly, by hand! The flowers have to be mowed each fall. I have 5.33 acres of  tillable acres. Doesn't sound like much does it? But when I stand in my backyard and look over those 5+ acres while thinking of having to mow those 5.33 acres each fall, then my breath stops for moment and my heart falls into my stomach.

There needs to be buffer zone between the wildflower habitat and the forest. Which means I have to clear a strip of land all around the field that is at least 20 feet wide, a strip of land that is currently filled with young trees and shrubs.

 In three years I will have to disk one third of the field, and continue to do so for two more years. All the while searching out and pulling 5.33 acres of tree seedlings.

I am an immediate person, I often begin a new project thinking I must have all the tools necessary immediately.  So, I started pricing the machinery that is required. Gulp! That's when I really began to worry. Thinking, oh my, oh, oh my!  I will need a tractor, a flail mower (still not completely sure what that is), and a cultivator, tiller or a mechanical something that will disk portions of the soil for me.  I freaked, completely freaked when I started pricing the machinery. So costly. Definitely will not be buying new. I've already determined that when I get to the tractor buying stage, my  tractor will most likely have been built in the 40's or 50's, anything newer is many thousands of dollars!

Once this all became reality, not just a pretty dream, I really began to worry. Asking myself, "How am I going to do this! I  am a mechanical numskull!  I can occasionally fix my small lawn tractor when it breaks down, but most of the time I rely on a very good friend to fix it with me. Yet, I'm going to buy a really old, very used tractor and other miscellaneous machinery??? Who, me? "

In the blink of an eye, I had myself in a frenzy of self-doubt. So full of doubt I had to get a grip. I had to say,"Hold on girl! Who says you can't hire someone to do the first spraying, cultivating and planting this spring. Who says you can't rent the equipment the first year? You?  Then you need to step back and think logically."

I have somewhat gotten a grip on my wild frenzy of self-doubt. I still have the tendency to think I must do all of this by myself. I still lean toward the need to buy all of the machinery now. But, I also know, I can do this. I will do this! I will make mistakes. I may even screw it up royally!


I kinda like these dreams. I imagine how the field will look in 2 or 3 years, and I smile. I dream of looking out my back door and seeing, breathing in, acres and acres of flowers. Big smile.

More dreams... I think of flowers, and think...bees. Bees? I dream of  learning how to be a beekeeper, and selling honey. Okay, I'm still not thinking completely logically. Let's tone down that dream a bit. Hmm, how about allowing a beekeeper to place hives along the perimeter and me having a share of the honey? Yum! Wait, wait, lets not put the thought completely away. I could raise bees. Sure I could. At least, I know I'm not allergic to bee stings, that's a good place to start? Right?

After three years of being on my married, I'm still not used to making decisions without consulting someone else. Its all me now, nobody else can tell me they've decided for me. The biggest change in adjusting my thinking, in learning I don't have to fight anyone for for what I want, is realizing that I have to trust myself. This takes patience. I have become slow to make decisions. I mull them, stew them, mull them some more, mire myself in what ifs and self doubts. Eventually I get there. So slowly. The decisions are not  always the best ones, but, they're my decisions, my choices. It's all on me.. I can live with that.

Each day that passes I come closer to fulfilling my dreams. I'm taking baby steps instead of the giant leaps I once thought I would take. I am learning to let time take me where it will. I'm still impatient with my patience, (though some would call it procrastination). When I slow my thoughts down, when I allow my worries to float away on a cloud. I know my someday will come. My little dreams will become reality.

Something that will never change. I will always question. So, once every so often I have to take several deep breaths, let them out slowly,calm my thoughts, and then I can continue along my path...only next year it will be a path filled with wildflowers. Big, big smile!

Friday, March 30, 2012


I hope with all my heart this documentary will be watched, will touch souls, and most importantly,

Tuesday, February 07, 2012

Today's Economy

A man walked into a pharmacy and was observed wandering in a rather confused way up and down the aisles.

The sales girl asked him if needed help.

The man responded by saying he was looking for a box of tampons for his wife.

The clerk directed down the correct aisle.

A few minutes later,he deposited a huge bag of cottonballs and a ball of string on the counter.

The Clerk, confused, said, "Sir, I thought you were looking for some tampons for your wife?

The man replied, "You see,it's like this. Yesterday, I ask my wife to pick me up a carton of cigarettes, and she came back with a tin of tobacco and some rollingpapers. Saying, "It's sooo-ooo--oo-ooo much cheaper."

So, I figure if I have to roll my own, so does she

Wednesday, January 18, 2012


"You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness."
~Jonathon Safran Foer~

Friday, April 15, 2011

Who I Am

Creating, becoming, always taking in what those in my life give to me.


These gifts from others, they are great, if only we accept them.

Each encounter we experience helps create who we are.

If we let it happen.



I am learning to accept these gifts.



So much pain we bring into our lives.

Do your remember time as a child?

Each day was a forever day.

As adults we wonder not where the days have gone but where the years have gone.

They are here with us if we arise and come out from under our interminable searching.

If we make the decision each day is a blessing.


Have you ever ask yourself who you most admire?

Now go further.

Then ask yourself why do you admire them?

The answer brings us so close to who we really are.

When we see what we admire, we see what we are searching for.

If we are open to that search.

We create, we become.


For what seems like forever I have searched for the perfect me.

There is no perfect me.

There is only the me I create.

The me I am becoming.

The me I will forever become.