BLUEBIRD BLUEBIRD ON MY SHOULDER

The day a newborn baby arrives a new set of parents are discovering life has given them new purpose. They become as focused on this tiny helpless creature as a hungry tiger eyeballing a rare juicy steak. A shy timid woman can instantly become as ferocious as a infuriated pit bull as she protects her young. Parenthood also affects fathers. It causes fathers who are best buds with everyone to clean the old shotgun as his daughters date arrives. (YES, HE DID!!!) The parental right to protect offspring is a common factor in both man and beast.

The eastern bluebirds nesting outside our bedroom window are raising their second brood this year. Their simple abode is nailed to a light pole that sits in the middle of a flower garden boasting bold bronze cannas, brilliant colored gladiolas and delicate balsams . I was watering the area admiring the floral bonanza when all the sudden a juvenal bluebird poked his head out of the house, took one look at me, screamed and jumped as if he was determined to commit suicide. He was mature enough to flutter his young speckled breasted body only two feet off the ground. Thinking how awful I must look to terrorize the gray little thing to that extreme and feeling responsible for the ordeal I thought I could capture the down covered escapee. That is when the protective parenting kicked in.

Out of the sky streaked a pair of turquoise bluebirds with their rusty red breasts shinning in the sun like a couple of B-52 bombers in attack mode. I stepped back to watch the clan as they chattered away like girlfriends catching up on the latest gossip. The parents flew under the fluttering fledgling gently guiding him back to the nest. I have heard of such things happening but never witnessed such a sight. "Bluebird Bluebird on My Shoulder"... not quite but I will never forget the gentle love of these protective parents.

YOU GOTTA' STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES

Today is deep clean Friday. I have been hard at it since 5:00 am this morning. The water bed has been stripped, bedding washed , slurping mattress burped and all put back together again. The tub jets are cleaned, toilet scrubbed and sinks are shinny as a sunny day. The furniture is dustless and the floors are spotless. Laundry washed, folded and hung. I have yet to take the filters out of the furnace and wash them but that is next. Did I mention it is only 8:00am??? Why, you ask? Besides the fact that I am just a little crazed when it comes to cleaning. I do this so I have the remainder of the day to enjoy my rose garden and get as dirty as a child in their first mudball fight. Time to transplant, weed and dance through my colorful gardens. Close your eyes and inhale. Enjoy today....'cause "YOU GOTTA' STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES!"

GYPSIES TRAMPS AND THIEVES

'MY BAD!!! No, I was not born in the wagon of a travelin' show nor did my Mama dance for the money they'd throw. My Papa really NEVER preached whenever he could. But me... I almost shoplifted Tuesday. It was all quite innocent. Really, I am not known as a wanted felon 'round these parts but the whole event left me totally unraveled knowing I could have walked out of the store without paying.

I was checking out my two week buyout of food and supplies at our local Walmart Supercenter. My checkout gal was not a happy camper and I was pulling out my best tricks to improve her day. Using my most cheerful voice to uplift her spirits , I helped load the bags into my basket. Nothing I did put a smile on the unhappy clerks mug. I grabbed the checkbook to pay for the goods reaching to raise my purse I saw a box of Schick Quattro titanium blades resting beneath it. Visions of security alarms went off in my head. I could just imagine my Sunday school class, grandchildren and Kids Church watching as I was handcuffed and carted off to prison. Knowing I would most certainly die incarcerated being no flower gardens to tend in the Big House, I quickly grabbed the box and tossed it to the clerk who was rolling her eyes... again!

I did not manage to place a grin on my grumpy clerks face Tuesday but the gent behind me doubled over with a big belly laugh watching the whole event. I felt a tad embarrassed as I looked behind me, the whole line was smiling and laughing. Sometimes God works in the most mysterious ways! I left the parking lot smiling myself singing "Gypsies Tramps and Thieves" all the way home.

DEVIL OR ANGEL

Meet Lucifer. He is the rubber snake my very ornery father introduced into our family many moons ago. He waltzed into our family room with a Wal-Mart bag and handed it to my soon to be daughter-in-law. Dads way of welcoming this sweet girl into the family. Since then Lucifer has been the subject of many pranks startling friends, family and salespeople alike. I have used him as a visual in Kid's Church and a decoration in several themes. His most important job is warding the barn swallows away from our carport. Messy little birds they are!

A couple weeks ago Lucifer was curled up on the car where the swallows were staking their claim from above. It was Thursday and I ALWAYS mow on Thursdays. I also always move the car to the lot behind the house where it is safe from flying objects that could be hurled from the mower.(rarely happens...but...just in case) I flung Lucifer over the edge of the carport roof, mounted the lawnmower to begin my two hour task. Don't get me wrong, I love to mow. One might say I am obsessed with it. Hey, I like my grass even. Nothing wrong with that, right?

I was sporting along full throttle down be-boppin' to the tune in my head. I had no thoughts of Lucifer or where I had flung him. Hypnotized in the mow zone, I zipped around the corner of the carport carefully mowing a strip along the path when it happened. Out of nowhere a big black snake dropped from above. I'm telling you, this chick almost lost her bladder! Body shaking, heart pounding louder than a drum and shrieking like a tree frog, I managed to stay on the moving mower......just barely.

Today I put Lucifer back in the bag and placed him on the shelf in the closet where he resides when he is not working. Next time I get him out will I use him for good or evil? Will I be a Devil or Angel? ' Just depends!!!

THE MONSTER MASH

Thick green slime the color of mossy mold mixed with clumps of lumpy brown sludge. No, not creamed spinach broccoli soup. This was the condition of my pool one week ago. You heard me, the pickiest farm chick in the Ozarks had the nastiest job in the world. This was due to one of the three tornadoes that hit the Ponderosa last spring. It came terrorizing the area with it's wrath lifting the winter pool cover, top ring and side supports from the pool scattering it randomly over the acres. I was able to retrieve the parts and use the pool last summer but it was not strong enough to endure a winter cover with the strong winds the Ozarks are blessed with.

Last Friday I began draining the smelly snot textured gunk from the pool. As the cesspool lowered, I would climb in moving the siphon hose to a deeper spot draining it as low as possible. I knew the remainder had to be bucketed. This process was going on when I spotted something in the water. I tried to examine the creature as I stood outside the bio hazard. Was it part of a snake? Oh my gosh... what had I been wading in? That green gook could contain all kinds of stuff. Undesirable creatures like the mosquitoes on steroids I had been swatting all day, satanic snakes, big warty bullfrogs, or The Lock Nest Monster!!! I grabbed the pool net and began to pull the five fingered creature out. It was Hubby's metal fishing glove. Not Locke.

I had the mess bucketed out by noon Saturday and was ready to clean the putrid stains from the liner. Using a jug of bleach, half a jug of laundry detergent and lots of elbow grease I had the pool liner it's beautiful blue self ready for the fill. This week the weather is warm, pool is crystal clear and the only Monster Mashes I will be dealing with are the oldies blaring from the radio as I enjoy my swim. Ah, summer has arrived!!!

THE CHICKEN DANCE

" The Holy Ghost Will Take the Chicken Out of You!" This song has been ringing from our Kid's Church the past quarter. I just closed out Super Sleuth lessons on the Holy Spirit by Young Explorers. It has been a difficult lesson to par down to my younger children but it has also been a fun lesson. It involved magnifying glasses, fingerprints and crimes to solve. Observing me from the outside one might conclude I am totally prim and proper. HA!!! Get me with a gaggle of children and I warp into Peter Pan shocking most adults in the room.

Last Sunday I concluded the final lesson of this series and wanted to review the material covered over the last fourteen weeks.
I was asking questions about the upper room experience with hyper bodies and little eyes glued on me. First we covered the wind blowing..."whooooooooo," wildly waving our arms in the air. Then tongues of fire appeared over everyone, wiggling fingers over our heads. " What happen next?" I asked my little crew. A very bright four year old girl excitedly raised her hand. Jumping to her feet, bouncing like a paint mixer and hyperventilating she shouted out with her most confident voice....THEN IT STORMED!!!!

Tuesday I changed Bob (the Tomato)Holmes look along with the entire Kid's Church to Camp Jesus but these young hearts will always remember their lessons on the Holy Spirit. They will sing the song. They will remember the chicken walk we performed dancing around our chairs clucking and scratching like a brood of hungry chicks while the adults in the room shook their heads and rolled their eyes. Most of all they will remember the wacky Kid's Church director that taught them the Holy Ghost WILL take the chicken out of you.

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY

The Ponderosa was jumping yesterday as we celebrated Hubby's birthday. This is the farm boy I have been married to for thirty six years. I knew he was a keeper when the sorority sisters and I had a hankering for doughnut holes one winter evening and decided to call MY boyfriend because everyone recognized this fella would do anything to make Nezzy happy. Not only did he say he would trudge through the nights snow, the moon eyed hunk went from shop to shop looking for glazed doughnut holes. Can you believe Springfield was out of the tiny treats??? Ringing the doorbell with the most salivating box of assorted doughnuts he apologized for not fetching the requested morsels. Yes, this was the guy for me!

The only thing he wanted for his birthday was the traditional angel food cake sporting creamy rich chocolate icing and a good meal. I figure this man puts up with all my quirks and obsessions while still managing to spoil me, it's the least I can do. I hit the kitchen with the gusto of a lovesick teen whipping up this luscious cake and his favorite cashew chicken dinner. Yummy!

The next three months this amazing man will endure every chance I get to remind him that he is the old one. It is custom that I lay it on thick as a triple cheeseburger as I sing," Happy, Happy Birthday Baby!!!"