Cow Patty Surprise

FALLING

2012-02-09T16:52:00.003-06:00

Here on the Ponderosa I've fallen when it's been colder than a nuns toes on a ice packed ski slope and slicker than wet okra in a soapy sink. When my friends worry 'bout me fallin' out here in the middle of nowhere I just laugh 'cause in the cold months I'm padded better then the Michelin Man and simply bounce back up. Warm weather is a whole different story.

I did fall hard several summers ago when Farm Boy was outta state. It was hotter that a tire fire when I was haulin' mulch for my flower beds as I hung my Croc flippy on a rock and went down. I laid there rollin' in the dirt sweatin' like Richard Simmons to the oldies thinkin' I could lay there for days roast bakin' 'till tender in the sun and nobody would ever know. My kiddos have often joked about gettin' Mom one of those "I've fallen and can't get up thingies"....gee, 'could'a used one. I finally sucked it up and literally crawled to the house lickin' my wounds.

'Seems if there are grandkiddos involved, I'll fall to the floor faster than a speedin' ticket. Yep, give this Ozark Farm Chick a kid and I'll go down faster than a pregnant pole vaulter in lead tennis shoes. I'm usually the photographer but I've noticed most of the pictures taken of this chick, I'm crashed on the floor. It's just the way I fly!!!

When I'm with the grandkiddos I want to be present, right there in the middle where the action is and I'll fall harder than my sister's first attempt at Triple Chocolate Souffle' to get there. Bein' Grandma Muzzie makes my heart sing and my spirit soar. See me grinnin' like a mule eatin' cockeburs???

I'm well aware how abundantly blessed I am. Shoot, if I were any luckier I could sit on a fence and the birds could feed me. Isn't it wonderful to know as humans we don't have to be perfect. In life there are times we're gonna fall like a giant boulder off an overpass where the Father is immediately present with outstretched arms 'just waitin' to catch us with His unconditional amazin' love! Without Him in my life I'd be so helpless I couldn't pour the rain outta my camouflaged manure stompin' boots with a hole in the toe and directions stamped on the heel! I'm sayin'....

Well shut my mouth, God has blessed this rockin' Grandma with eight perfect grandkiddos and a heart to love each and every one like the first. I've fallen and fallen hard~ again and again. In 1977 LeBlanc and Carr sang these lyrics in their hit single, "I'm falling, woah, I'm falling , I'm falling in love with you." Just when I thought my heart was stuffed full as it could get, I found myself singin' these lyrics as each grandkiddo was added to the brood. Heck, there's even room in this overflowin' heart of mine to love God more and more each day. The heart's a miraculous organ that way.

It wasn't 'till 1980 when LeBlanc came to know Jesus that he realized the real power of love. It was then he began recordin' Christian themed music like "Say a Prayer" and "Person to Person." It's glorious when the love of grandkiddos washes over me like a warm shower and even better to feel the Heavenly Father's love saturate my very soul. This chick feels fine as creamed country gravy to know I'm loved so intensely that He will always be there for me when I'm "Falling!!!"

God bless ya'll!!!

THE GOOD LIFE

2012-01-31T15:31:00.002-06:00

Farm livin' makes this Ozark Farm Chick happier than a gopher in a fresh plowed field! The directions to the Ponderosa may include words like miles, county lines, last or gravel road. We might of used the Big Blue tractor's loader as scaffolding a time or two. I've hosed the kids and myself off many a time before goin' in the house and Lacey or Frilly are the names of farm critters, not the latest Victoria Secret fashions. Early mornin' prayer often covers rain, cattle and crops but it's our life and I love it!!!!

Not to say farm life isn't hard and cash runs low before the next crop or calves are ready to move but if I won the Publishers Clearing House Sweeps tomorrow, you'd find Farm Boy and me still farmin' these Missouri hills and hollers.

Every once in a while somethin' truly special happens, somethin' unexpected....prizes of generous giveaways that thrill me more than a midget with nine inch stilettos. Something to make me shove the furniture back, do my happy dance and shout, "I won!!!"

Back in November I won this spectacular Holiday book by Matthew Mead over at Blue Bird Notes. Koralee is just sweeter than a warm bath filled with decant Belgian chocolate. I referred to this book time and again durin' the holidays. Koralee's charmin' blog is as beautiful as it is soothin'. I just love visitin' this special lady and know you will too.

Then when I thought life couldn't get any better, I won a $30.00 Kroger gift card over at Terra's place Sitting on an Oak. Oh, this girl's a precious treasure. Her blog is filled with informative ways to get the most bang outta your buck. Ya'll will find everything from couponin' tips to money savin' recipes there. Ya sure want to pop over and gab a great pointer or two.

Yep folks, I've been gratefully feelin' the good life. If I felt any happier, I'd drop my harp plumb through the clouds! Originally "La Belle Vie" this 1963 Tony Bennett song hit number eighteen on the U.S. Pop Singles Chart. This chick is richly blessed to live nestled smack in the middle of nowhere, lovin' Matthew Mead's Christmas book and enjoyin' the harvest of wild salmon, chicken breast and tilapia fillets I purchased with the Kroger gift card. I can sing that God has granted me to truly live " The Good Life !!!"

ENEMY'S CAMP (Guest Post)

2012-01-23T10:53:00.002-06:00

Uglier than an August outhouse struck by lightin' and meaner than a sizzlin' skillet full of rattlesnakes, the demonic monster can rear it's satanic head when ya least expect it. The joy of a new life and the hope of a perfect family is every gal's dream . At least it was for this precious new mama 'till the wicked beast rocked her world like Teen Town on a Saturday night. This courageous woman geared up for battle armin' herself to fight the diabolical cancer of Malignant Pleural Mesothelioma.

Folks, I'd like to introduce ya'll to my guest poster. She's fought Satan himself and is here to tell her remarkable story. I'm pleased as punch for ya'll to meet Heather Von St. James, Mesothelioma survivor. Welcome sweetie...............

I've always viewed the world through rose colored glasses. This became an important aspect of my personality when I was diagnosed with cancer at the age of 36. Nothing in my life had prepared me for that moment and I had an important decision to make: to choose between despair or to choose life.

I was diagnosed with malignant pleural mesothelioma 3 1/2 months after giving birth to my first and only child. It was November 21, 2005. I was unprepared to hear the words "you got cancer" during such a joyous time. Instead of wallowing in self pity and blaming the stars for my fate, I decided to keep my head up and continue viewing the world through rose colored glasses. I couldn't let down my baby. She had the right to be raised by her mother.
One thing that may surprise many people is the positive aspect of cancer. Naturally, it is one of the worst diagnoses you can receive but it really helped to change my life for the better. I wasn't going to allow myself to be a victim so I tried to treat the situation lightly. This would help to remove a lot of the fear of the diagnosis and give me a chance to help others by giving them hope. The world's best mesothelioma doctor was also there to give me the hope I needed to go on.

I actually gave my tumor a nickname: Punxsutawney Phil. My surgery was to occur on Groundhogs Day, 2006. Groundhogs Day became "Lungleavin Day" as this was the day I lost my lung. We still celebrate "Lungleavin Day" on the first weekend of every February. This is not a celebration of the loss of my lung but a celebration of my survival and a celebration of life and of defeating fear. It is a hopeful celebration and I look forward to it every year.

Another great positive of my cancer diagnosis is all the wonderful people I have met after my diagnosis and during my treatment. These people are some of the strongest, most hopeful and passion filled people in my life. They inspire me daily and keep me happy and hopeful. I have met other survivors of mesothelioma, people going through their treatments, people trying to inform the public of the dangers of this disease and many others. These people who I hadn't known before are now my friends.

As incredible as it may seem, my cancer diagnosis and survival has enriched my life by introducing me to these amazing people and giving my life more purpose. I hope to continue inspiring others and giving hope to other mesothelioma patients for years to come.

I have to confess, This Ozark Farm Chick is cookin' on the front burner today after readin' the the positive attitude of this beautiful strong woman. The odds were not in her favor and I know that Heather had to be scared as a sinner in a Ozark twister but this little lady has earned alotta stars in her crown. She's turned her bowl of lemons 'round and put Satan under her feet by dedicatin' her life to helpin' others with this horrific cancer. Please take time to visit this extraordinary gal at "The Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance Blog. "

Thank you Heather for sharin' your miraculous story which has tugged at the heartstrings of others as it has mine. Just like Praise Workout who sang this amazin' worship song from the 1995 Brownsville Revival era, she knows ya don't have to be in Pensacola, Florida to stomp out the old devil. Heather can now truly sing that she's been to the "Enemy's Camp!!!"

God bless and keep you Heather and never let go of those 'rose colored glasses'!!!

THE TWIST

2012-01-13T15:27:00.003-06:00

Other than bein' stickier than a three year old's cotton candy fingers at a three ring circus, the day began just like any ordinary summer Sunday. This chick get's up to put on her Bare Minerals face while Farm Boy fixes his weekly Big Top Breakfast. Hub's goes to check cattle while I clean the kitchen, make the bed and do my hair before walkin' out the door for church. Hubs teaches the Adult Sunday School Class while I teach a Pre~Teen Class then Kid's Church.

We often laughingly chant, "day of rest, day of rest, day of rest" while dartin' out to the car. Seems like our Sundays are busier than a one armed cab driver eatin' a meatball sub. The weatherman on the radio confirmed our day was gonna be hotter than an honeymoon hotel makin' the humidity stickier than a prickly cockebur. Just another day in the Ozarks. So we thought!

That Sunday evenin' we drove into Tiny Town to attend evenin' services we call 'Share and Prayer'. The meetin' was amazin' but we couldn't see the greenish~yellow tinted sky through the blue stained glass windows. 'Wasn't 'till Pastor George said, "it's lookin' really strange out here," we recognized that all too familiar eerie hew and decided to beat the storm home instead of stayin' in the safe confinement of the churches basement. We hoofed it to our car while the sky colored like a sea sick yellow Lab closed in on us.

We no sooner left the churches parkin' lot 'till the wind started blown like perfume through a High School Prom. Farm Boy turned into a skilled demolition driver as the hail and large debris began poundin' the car. Determined Hubby swerved this way and that down Main Street dodging large tree limbs and lawn furniture landin' in our path.

We turned down Wall Street and if anything, the violence worsened. Suddenly, I morphed into Jamie Gertz who played Dr. Mellisa Reeves in that 1996 Twister movie 'cause I vaguely remember turnin' to Hubs and sayin', "I gotta go Julia, we got cows!!!" This Ozark Farm Chick went through a tornado when I was five and they are my biggest fear. I gotta tell ya, between the hail, the limbs and the stuff in the road all I wanted was my Mama!

I realized the unrelentless storm was followin' us like a starvin' dog chases a meat wagon when we hit the highway headed toward the Ponderosa. We met a car flashin' lights warnin' us of limbs on the highway. Then a pick~up flashed us. Oh this can't be good...a tree!!! My panic didn't lessen as we swerved this way and that avoiding downed trees and giant limbs. The storm hung over our head like a three day hangover on a drunk no matter how fast we traveled.

I was scared baby, and desperate measures were in order. I've been known to remind God Himself that He can calm the storms. Shakin' harder than the Parmesan Cheese shaker at Pizza Hut, I prayed and prayed hard as we came to the end of the blacktop and entered our dirt road. Oh, Lord...please let us have a house!

Oh my goodness glory, what a mess things were. My cottage garden, birdhouses or bistro set will never be the same. Ya'll can only imagine what this did to my OCFD (obsessive compulsive flower disorder). I'd removed some of the large limbs before I snapped the pictures but we had a house. Praise God! One limb came right down the corner of the house with enough force to plant it deeply in the ground. God had answered my prayers...again!!!

Our lives may become tangled more than a ball of knittin' wool attacked by a litter of frisky kittens or twisted like a crown of thorns yet the Maker can pull us apart and put us all back together stronger than ever. He does it with ease and compassion no matter how violent the storms may come. All we have to do is ask, call his name or just simply whisper the name of Jesus. Yep folks, He loves us that much. How awesome is that???

Born in Spring Gulley, South Carolina, Ernest Evans was raised in the projects of South Philadelphia, Pennsylvania with his parents and two brothers. Facin' the twist and snares of life he formed a street~corner harmony group at the ripe old age of eight. Life was not easy for this fella but God took his tangled life and molded him into a great performer of his time. It was his boss, Henry Colt, owner of Fresh Farm Poultry who tagged Evans with the nickname, 'Chubby'.

A great twist of fate is that Dick Clark invited 'Chubby' to do a private recording for American Bandstand. After completin' an excellent impersonation of Fats Domino, Clark's wife asked the young singer's name. Evans replied, "well my friends call me 'Chubby'. Clark's wife then substituted 'Checkers' for Domino. Hence the name...'Chubby Checkers'.

This hit song was released in 1960 from Checkers very unlikely twisted fate. Whether life becomes as twisted as big old elm tree's roots or it's the physical storms that scare the bajabbers outta ya, I'm so thankful we can call on the One who stills the waters when we tangle ourselves into "The Twist!!!"

God bless Ya'll!!!

HAPPY TOGETHER

2012-01-06T10:46:00.001-06:00

Washer's spinnin, dishwasher's hummin, dryer's tumblin', all surfaces are dustless and even the Tidy Bowl man would be proud to float his boat 'round in the toilet. Yep folks, it's Deep Clean Friday where everything on the Ponderosa is spit shined, vacuumed and buffed to a shinny glow. I didn't want ya'll to think I'd fallen plumb off the hay-wagon and neglected the cleanin' over here. Ya'll know how cleanin' makes my heart sing and rocks my world but this Ozark gal wasn't deep cleanin' thirty nine years ago. Nope, I was gettin' all gussied up to marry the man of my dreams. Hey looky there...Farm Chick's got gams!!! Anybody remember Betty Grable?

January 6, 1973 was one horrifically ice covered day in the Ozarks. Funny how the day before we were all runnin' around in our shirtsleeves like it was summertime. The weather can sure change on a dime 'round these parts. Nothin' but nothin' was gonna stop these two moon~eyed soul mates from sayin' "I do!" We were swoonin' over each other worse than a boxer too darn dizzy to duck.

Our poor best man, Farm Boys big bro, ended up drivin' all night though the dreaded Ozark ice storm. My lovely flowers were delivered to the wrong weddin' and I received theirs. It was too treacherous for the professional photographer to travel from Springfield to Stockton so after askin' the guests to share we ended up with a few Kodak Brownie pictures to document our wedded bliss. Kinda like us our pictures are showin' a bit of wear and tear. Thirty nine years will do that to ya...ya know?

We toasted the big day with glasses filled with purple passion punch right after the mischievously handsome little ring barer stepped on my train rippin' it plumb off. Thank heavens for big old diaper pins!!! I would walk over hot coals in a heatwave for this fella. He fills my heart and makes my toes curl. For 39 years Hubs has been the tiptoe to my tulips, the icin' on my cake. Whew~fan me now, I'm still swoonin'! This Ozark Farm Chick has uncovered the secret to a long and happy marriage. Are ya ready? Grab a pen, ya might wanna take notes. It's double sinks and separate closets all the way baby!!!

Our marriage may have literally started out on a road more slippery than a freshly buttered ice-rink but I wouldn't trade the past thirty nine years for all the gold in Midas' treasure chests. Oops...my bad, I left out the most important secret to a successfully jubilant union. More important than a dog to a flea is the third person, God. He's hung in there like a hair in a biscuit through thick and thin blessin' us every step along our life's journey.

I can't control my love for this hunk of a Farm Boy any more than a cross eyed teacher can control her pupils. In fact we're both known to still be a bit moon~eyed. Studies show we have seven completely compatible soul mates out there in the universe. I don't buy it 'cause we sing, "me and you and you and me , no matter how ya tossed the dice it had to be." "The only one for me is you and you for me....So happy together!!!"

This Chick can shove the furniture back and do my famous happy dance while beltin' out the 1967 song 'The Turtles' recorded knockin' 'The Beatles' "Penny Lane" outta of the top slot of the Billboard Hot 100 for three weeks. This fabulous tune was rejected over a dozen times before 'The Turtles' jumped on it. Imagine that! Looks like persistence not only pays off in a extraordinary marriage but in great songs too, for now I can bound joyfully and sing, "we are so HAPPY TOGETHER!!!"

Love ya and happy anniversary Farm Boy!!!

WHY CAN'T EVERYDAY BE LIKE CHRISTMAS

2011-12-28T13:37:00.002-06:00

Grinnin' like a hungry cat who just landed in a well stocked Aviary, her shinin' faced beamed as she said, "today I'm marrin' your son and you will really be my mom." December 1, 1995 , Geek Son married The Latin Lovin' Hillbilly and we gained another daughter. Our family was blessed more than Christmas dinner after the fast at a monastery when this one joined our happy clan.

On December third my sweet Mother-In-Love celebrated her 84th birthday surrounded by family and a big old cake piled high with icin'. Doesn't that smile just light up a room? Born in 1927, this lovely lady has seen more in our world than most of us could wrap our brains around. She is now livin' in an assisted livin' facility and lovin' it more than a fly loves sticky buns on Christmas Mornin'. Mom and my wonderful Father-In-Love would of celebrated their 65th weddin' anniversary on the eighth of December along with my Brother-Out-Law's (just kiddin') 49th birthday.

This handsome dude loves football and the Colts almost as much as he loves that Banana Split Cake. Zacharie is the oldest of our 'bonus' grandkiddos. He's a great big brother to Alexis, Jacob and little Ian. This awesome football player holds down a job as he hold up his grades. My heart bursts watchin' him grow into the super young fella he is. Zach celebrated his 17th birthday on the tenth. Woohoo....party on!!!!

Mischievous as a hyper Blue Heeler pup in a box full of kitties, this happy gent celebrated his birthday on the twelfth of December. This Ozark Farm Chick can't look at Joel without seein' my daddy all over that jubilant face. Oh how that smile melts this gals heart. He's a builder, a scientist and a lover of God. Did I mention he's a climber too? Yep, if we ever lose this one we've learned to simply look up. He climbs walls folks!!!

The Latin Lovin' Hibilly in all her orneriness was born December 14, 1975. Ya need rear view mirrors on the back of your ears 'round this one. Geek Son made his very dramatic entry into this world December 18th, 1974. This Mama's so very proud of the man, husband and father he's become but someone had to put a stop to all these celebrations. As Barney Fife said, "Nip it...Nip it in the bud!"

When our beautiful Social Butterfly found the Monarch of her dreams, ya know the one that made her little heart flutter, flip and go pitty~pat, a December weddin' was brought up. Miss Social said, "Oh no...Mama won't allow anymore hitchins or babies bein' birthed in December." This union took place in January. Ya'll know what happens when Mamas not happy! Heeheehhee! Let me tell ya'll, I've popped more than few proud buttons over this one too! She makes my heart sing.

Our Decembers are packed tighter than a clown car.....then we have Christmas. Here on the Ponderosa we are celebratin' Christmas on December 31st. It truly doesn't matter to this chick what day we celebrate as long as we celebrate together. Shouldn't we all be celebratin' the birth of our Lord and Savior everyday anyway? 'Just sayin'.......

Saturday on the Ponderosa the tree's 1,100 lights will be lit, the Christmas music jammin' in the background, the dinner table filled with all the trimmins and the fresh cider table filled with decant homemade candies. Farm Boy will gather the grandkiddos 'round his big old recliner to read the true Christmas story from the Bible. Presents will be opened as laughter fills the air but most of all we will celebrate Jesus. Yep, like Elvis sang on his October 15, 1957 single and on the United States best sellin' Christmas Album ever, "For if everyday could be just like Christmas, what a wonderful world this would be!" Just like Mr. Presley, I want to always celebrate Jesus each and every day so I ask, "Why Can't Everyday Be Like Christmas?"

GOD BLESS YA'LL. MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAVE A VERY WONDERFUL NEW YEAR!!!

SUGAR AND SPICE ( Winner announcement)

2011-12-20T16:55:00.002-06:00

Sweeter than Granny Walden's Karo Pie, this little dancin' queen had her Grandma Muzzie's 'Happy Dance' perfected by her first birthday. Born October 14, 2005, little Miss Sarah Grace truly graced our family with her infectious smile and the energy of a Duracell battery.

One glance from those sparklin' chocolatey brown eyes as big as saucers can melt your heart faster than this Ozark Farm Chick can leap over a corral panel with a wild~eyed bovine breathin' down my knickers. This nectarous Fairy Princess is too darn stinkin' cute and knows how to use it baby. Honey Pie will roll those big browns when she's in trouble and say, "I love you Mommy (Daddy)!!!"

Miss Candy coated Pippi Longstockin' broke her little wing flyin' off the arm of the sofa a couple years ago and sported the cutest tiny purple cast. Her Mama, The Latin Lovin' Hillibilly, braided her pigtailed braids 'round a coat hanger for that year's Christmas program. The teen gals backstage had a blast and a half flippin' the braids up...then down each time Gracie was offstage.

Her spiraled curly Shirley Temple look gained her a flower girl position in my nephew's hitchin'. Sarah Grace was most enchanted with the chocolate fountain. It is the factor in most girls dreams isn't it??? I know, I need to hit more of those Chocoholic's Anonymous meetings.

"Oh, my dolly finally came," were the words squealed when she opened the present we handed her. See, Sarah asked for a Hearts for Hearts Nahji from India doll that arrived late the day before her birthday. We left for Texas before Sleepin' Beauty awoke on her big day so she didn't get her dolly 'till a week later. I must confess...Grandma's heart sank like a cement block. I felt baaaaaad!!!

After her dolly came I think ya'll can tell that Miss Gracie had a very happy number six. I swear that smile could light up New York City at Christmastime! Folks, don't let all this syrupy sweetness fool ya though. If the need arises she can be tougher than a two dollar steak takin' both her big brothers down at the knees but most of the time Sarah is sweeter than Charlies Chocolate factory on it's best day.

It was 1963 when an English rock band sang "Sugar and spice and all things nice, Kisses sweeter than wine, Sugar and spice and everything nice, You know that little girl is mine." My little Sarah has a big old piece of my heart and just like The Searchers, I too can belt out how much I love my little" Sugar and Spice !!!"

Ya'll hop on over and congratulate Shug over at 'My Steps Of Faith' who's sweeter than a warm bath filled with decadent Belgian chocolate herself. She is the winner of a signed copy of "Social Climbers" written by that generous Beth over at ' Social Climbers'. Congratulations Shug and a big old Ozark 'thanks' to Beth. Woohoo!!!!

VOGUE (Giveaway)

2011-12-12T14:33:00.001-06:00

Uglier than a bucket full of armpits and thinner than an Amish phone book, Farm Boy buys these half starved sale-barn cattle to pretty up and fatten out. Believe me, these hungry bovines eat better than a empty bellied three hundred pound trucker at an all ya can eat buffet when they belly up to the feed bunks here on the Ponderosa. It sure doesn't take these Stravin' Marvins long to plump up and slick out.

Heck, these two beauties could join Beth over at" Social Climbers" for a Monogram Monday. Just look at how these two high society 'it' gals are monogrammed to the kilts. Folks, don't get your bloomers in a bundle, these ladies were previously monogrammed prior to landin' on the Ponderosa.

Shockin' as an electric fence durin' a thunderstorm, this Ozark Farm Chick was once a sorority girl herself! Yep, I've climbed a social rung or two myself but these days I'm a bonafied 100% Farm gal. Now, if ya'll a want in on the well kept secrets of the Main Line Socialites, I've got the book for you! Even an country lass from the Ozark Mountains can run with chic elites sportin' names like Bibby, Coco and Lilly followin' Beth's advice. Do ya feel as confused as a hungry baby in a topless bar dropped smack in the middle of a social settin'? The 'Preppy Bible' holds the key to your grip on scalin' the social ladder.

That sweet generous Beth over at" Social Climbers "is givin' one of my lucky readers a signed copy of her book "Social Climbers". Now, if that won't sweeten your bitter tea! All ya have to do is comment. That's it. I love the KISS method. Ya know, 'keep it simply sister' but please go visit this special blogger and say 'howdy'! Go, put your feet up and sit a'spell.

In 1990 the real 'it girl', Madonna, wrote and sang, "All you need is your own imagination...So use it that's what it's for...go inside, for your finest inspiration...Your dreams will open the door." This hit song is an upbeat dance~pop tune with heavy influences of the seventies disco era. After readin' Beth's book, you too will be strikin' a pose and singin' "Vogue !!!"

Ya'll have a blessed and beautiful Christmas.
" Social Climbers" can be purchased at Amazon.com.

PRINCESS ( A Winner)

2011-12-01T10:24:00.003-06:00

Better than a speckled pup in a red wagon on Christmas mornin', she knew she was a princess the day she was born. Her brothers welcomed her as royalty straight into their arms and protective big brother hearts. Born September 17, 2003, Honor Elizabeth graced this earth and our family with a heart as tender as Granny Walden's farm fresh warm apple dumplin's.

Hubby sometimes refers to little Indian Princess as "Ornery Elizabeth." This Ozark Farm Chick just calls her my "Mini~Me." We not only share September birthdays but looks, creativity, humor, artistic abilities, love of music, mannerisms, a heart for the Lord and His children. As I've said before, watchin' her grow is like steppin' through my own little girl lookin' glass!

No doubt this miniature fudgy faced Cinderella complete with teeny glass slippers will someday find her Prince Charming. Did ya'll notice the Minnie Pearl tag in her crown? She keeps us in stitches with her witty off the cuff humor and her zest for life.

She has written and illustrated a book about her life from birth to her very own family. Honor even had a couple pages dedicated to 'the honeymoon' which had the moon~eyed couple seated at a table complete with a beautiful floral centerpiece. I asked her what a couple did on their honeymoon and she replied, "Well of course Grandma Muzzie, they go out to eat at a really fancy restaurant, enjoy a movie and sleep in very expensive hotels." Silly me, at my age I should know these things...Heeehehe!!! As any best seller, Honor's book ends with "happily ever after."

Yep, this little Princess Bride made her daddy grab his chest, gasp for breath and turn three shades of green when she tried on the dress~up Christmas present we gave her a couple of years ago. Convincin' this dreamy~eyed bride she's not truly a princess is like talkin' a monkey into doin' math equations. 'Just not gonna happen! Mini~Me huffed and puffed and blew out all eight candles atop her birthday cake in one breath. I can only guess what this imaginative doll wished for. Oh, I could just sop this sweetie up with a buttermilk biscuit!!!!

Long before Elton John blew out "The Candle in The Wind" honoring Princess Di, he wrote the music and sang Gary Osbourne's forgotten song on his 1982 "Jump Up" Album. This proud rockin' grandma could sing Elton's very words as my heart bursts, "You make the sun shine on me~ You're one fine lady~ You're my PRINCESS" !!!

Woohoo!!! Ya'll move the furniture waaaay back and do a great big old happy dance with me 'cause folks, we have a winner! Random Generator has selected lucky number 46. Here's sendin' a big old Ozark 'CONGRATULATIONS' to Julia over at " Of Petals and Wool ", please do pop over and congratulate her. She's a real sweetheart and I know she's gonna love Margaret's book, "Sticky Readers: How to Attract a Loyal Blog Audience by Writing More Better" as much as I did!!!!

"Thank You" Miss Maragret!!! She hangs out at: "Nanny Goats in Panties"

GOATS HEAD SOUP (Giveaway)

2011-11-21T20:48:00.001-06:00

Goats are about as scarce 'round the Ponderosa as front teeth on a back woods hillbilly. Farm Boy's daddy had a few curly horned wild critters climbin' the bluffs 'round here the first couple years of our moon~eyed marriage. There was the in and out goat Dad brought my young son. The one they prayed for under the table in Miss Judy's Primary Sunday School Class 'cause, "Mama was gonna kill it!"

Dad had purchased the wee goat from a industrious little fella at the sale barn in Eldorado Springs, Missouri thinkin' it would make an excellent pet for Geek Son. He hated it! The kid stepped on son's feet and butted him when he tried to bottle feed it plus the dang critter stripped the bark off all my strugglin' saplings. Poor little sale barn fellas heart was as broke as the Ten Commandments so Dad made the trip back, picked up the goat and returned it to it's rightful goatsick owner. Nope, no goats...we're all about crazed wild~eyed cattle here on the Ponderosa.

Now, Margaret Andrews over at 'Nanny Goats in Panties' is just wild as a pack of dogs with a three legged cat when it comes to goats. She's a freelance writer who lives in California with her handsome hubby, Mr. Mudpuppy. Margaret's amusin' blog will leave ya in stitches. In fact, she's hotter than a menopausal Nanny Goat in a pepper patch since she's been voted Best Local Blogger makin' KCRA's A-List in 2011. She's published folks. Yep, this sweet gal writes how to tutorials and presently writes for CBS Sacramento's website. Margret has even had a hand or two writing content for popular video games. You'll find her currently workin' on her screenplay and novel. All you cooks out there lookin' for new recipes must check out her goat recipe box. Just sayin'........
Do ya'll ever feel like growin' your blog and gainin' followers is kinda like nailin' jello to a tree? You work hard slaving over a hot computer writin' your little heart out but still feel it's like goin' to the goat house for wool? Well, I've got the perfect book for you!!!

Say you want your blog hotter than a Billy Goat with a blowtorch, just pick up Margaret's book "Sticky Readers: How to Attract a Loyal Blog Audience by Writing More Better." It's a lighthearted funny read yet heaped full of wonderfully useful bloggin' advice. Margaret sent me a copy since I'm in the book! Yep folks...this Ozark Farm Chick is now famous. I'm kinda in the don't section of metaphors and similes (pages 39-41) but accordin' to the expert I can get by with such overkill 'cause I'm Nezzy and it's just the way I fly!!!

That sweet generous Margaret has offered to give a signed copy of this most informative book to one of my readers. Thanks darlin'!!! To enter...just comment....easy peasy!!!

(This sweet little real life goatie belongs to the, The Maaaa of Pricilla )

Filled with hits like "Angie", "Silver Train" and "Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker)", The Rolling Stones released their hit album August 20, 1973. This was after a move in 1972 to Jamaica 'cause it was one of the few places that would let 'em in. Seems bad boy Keith Richards was kicked outta nine countries and this was a way to keep the band together. Ya'll have got to read "Sticky Readers" to help keep cute little goats and your blog outta " Goats Head Soup !!!"

("Sticky Readers" can be purchased in paperback and Kindle versions at Amazon or Barnes & Noble)

IT TAKES TWO

2011-11-14T13:38:00.002-06:00

Makin' this fine lad break out in sheer laughter could depress the devil. Born July 1, 2000 with a heart more tender than my Granny Walden's special lard pie crust, this handsome fella can be as serious as a cardiac arrest. Meet Jacob, one of my three bonus grandkiddos. This sweetheart is the fantastic little brother of Alexis and Zacharie but adores playin' the role of big brother to little Ian.

Mr. City Slicker is an avid soccer, baseball and football player but is happier than a tornado in a trailer park in the kitchen. The boy loves to cook! We are blessed that he has the heart of a helper in any area and doesn't hesitate to jump right in with both feet when he sees a need. He transforms into a real 'terminator' doin' away with the mean varmints in the video games he loves. Jacob was one of several to celebrate a birthday durin' my summer sabbatical here on the Ponderosa. We love that he became a part of our family and I'm not talkin' with the tongue outta my shoe here!

Remember baby Ian? Oh, how this rockin' Grandma loved to hold this little dumplin' and sniff that new baby head! Like a buzzard to overripe roadkill, I'm addicted to that 'new baby' smell but on July the 8th, the little fella had the nerve to turn the ripe old age of two on us. Speakin' of nerve, he also had the gumption to tell this Type~A Neat Freak, "Grandma....you're messssssy" when I dumped the Sesame Street Clubhouse in the toy closet. I'm sayin'.........nerve I tell ya!

This one keeps us in stitches. 'Seems he has the vocabulary of the Wikipedia Dictionary and the humor of a well seasoned comedian. 'Don't know where that comes from? Heeehehe!!! His daddy doesn't appreciate noisy toys but as a baby, Ian learned to flip those suckers over slicker than otter snot to mash the button and turn 'em on. He has an assortment of midget vehicles to ride at his disposal. He'll come cruisin' along and all the sudden come to a screechin' halt announcin' , "Oh no" runnin' off to collect his tool box. Little Tool Man will pull out his drill and wrenches workin' hard under the obviously 'broken' auto. Of course, he always finishes the job successfully.

My beautiful daughter, The Social Butterfly, was perplexed when she couldn't locate her kitchen trash can. After searchin' high and low she had to crack up when she discovered that a little Trash Man had used the missing container to turn his jeep into a 'trash truck'.

He was playin' with his Mr. Potato Head when he saw his mom strugglin' with a laundry basket tryin' to open the door. Takin' after this brother and tryin' to be a good 'helper' he ran straight to the desperate damsel's rescue. Ian held up the tiny plastic hand of Mr. Potato and offered, "here Mama......need a hand?" I know it was about as useless as a one armed trapeze artist with an itchy armpit but it was so stinkin' cutely clever!

We had the privilege of eatin' dinner with Butterfly's family a couple weeks ago. After the meal was devoured Social brought in some chocolate chip cookies askin' if anyone wanted one. Itty~Bitty pipes up with, "I loooooooove cookies!!!" It's never a dull moment 'round this little fella. He celebrated his birthday surrounded by family, gifts and a very sinful Ice~Cream Sunday Cake. What's a birthday without a little chocolate oozin' outta your ear?

Lovin' this one is like sugar in your hand, but not near as grainy. These two brothers hold my heart. They know just like Marvin Gaye and Kim Weston who recorded the hit single in 1965 that,"two walkin' hand-in-hand is like addin' just a pinch of spice." Well, if that don't put the pepper in the Gumbo! Ya can bet the farm that Jacob and Ian know that...." It Takes Two "!!!

A WONDERFUL GUY (I'm as Corny as Kansas in August)

2011-11-03T14:49:00.006-05:00

Sportin' more tassels than a stage full of Vegas striptease artist, she stands strong and tall. Her silky strands blow softly in the wind as her body rustles to and fro in the valley's breeze. The aroma of her sweet perfume arises to greet the afternoon sun. Corn, a member of the grass family, is one of the many crops that are planted here on the Ponderosa. I'm not sure what we were thinkin' this year when we named her our 'Cash Crop'. Now, if that thought wasn't like a lost ball in high weeds!!!

Everybody knows the quickest way to double your money is to fold it over and put it back in your pocket but that' just not the farm way. We take every blessed cent and put it into our land, herds or machinery. Makin' a livin' on a farm is much like gambelin', we're only a hail storm, flood or drought away from poverty. That's why many farmers have jobs off the farm simply to put food on the table for his family. Lord knows, this is one chick who's learned to squeeze a quarter so tight the eagle screams. It's easy to invest a years salary puttin' a crop in the ground. Due to 'fixed' market reports the price of corn fell harder than a drunk on a corn mash wagon at harvest time. I'd be streachin' it to tell you that it's even gonna cover our expenses but we're still as happy as if we'd had good sense. It's just the way we fly!

Poor 'Farm Boy', I seem to only take pictures of him when he's dirty. What can I say? The man gets dirty when he's workin' and he's always workin'. No matter what, dusty 'Pigpen' makes my heart swoon today even more than it did almost forty years ago.

Did ya'll know that an average ear of corn has 800 kernels in sixteen rows? Who figures this stuff out? If ya bagged up a pound of corn, that bag would contain 1,300 kernels. Each year a single US Farmer provides food and fiber for 129 folks- 97 Americans and 32 on foreign soil. Fifty five per~cent of our corn in the US is shipped to overseas markets. Corn is produced by every continent in the world except Antarctica. Truly, I'm not just hangin' noodles on your ears here.

When it's so hot the hens in the hen-house are layin' hard boiled eggs and it's drier than happy hour at the Betty Ford Clinic the leaves and stalks of the corn begin to dry into a crispy brown fiber. As the yellow kernels start to dimple prettier than the face of Shirley Temple, we know it's time to pull in the combine for harvest time on the Ponderosa.

This show tune was written especially for Mary Martin's spunky bubbly personality for the original 1949 Rodgers and Hammerstein Broadway musical, South Pacific. It was later sung by Mitzi Gaynor in the 1958 film adaption. I too can sing "I'm as corny as Kansas in August" or be so stinkin' poor that we have to go down to the local KFC and lick other people's fingers, I can rest in the fact that I'm in love with "A WONDERFUL GUY!!!"

CORNY JOKE: What did the corn say when she got complimented?
ANSWER: "Awwwww......shucks!"

OVER THE RIVER AND THROUGH THE WOODS

2011-10-26T16:47:00.002-05:00

Folks, this chick's wore down like a professional beggar's old shoe. Hubs was tellin' everyone we were goin' on vacation and yes, we did get away from the wild~eyed cattle and off the Ponderosa for a whole week. This is Venus vs. Mars baby and I'm callin' it a "work'cation". That's my final answer and I'm stickin' to it! We just returned from our long trip to Brownsville, Texas to visit my sweet Mama. Don't get me wrong, we go with full intentions of fixin' up and helpin' out as much as we can but I've had the energy of a smashed bug since we returned. Late summer the grandkiddos (I call the Fab~Four) got to make their own little journey to Camp Grandma.

Since the Ponderosa is truly over yonder and in the edge of nothin', we have to make our own entertainment. Ya know how you have good intentions of gettin' pictures of everything you've planned to do and then it hits ya the last day of Camp that you've been too stinkin' busy to pick up a camera, little lone take pictures??? Yeah~ me too... so all I've got to show ya'll is the lonely last day of Camp Grandma!

We went rock climbin'. This is Ethan the clone of his father, Geek Son. This kid is has always been old for his age and knows more than a Philadelphia lawyer. He's generally the first to pull out the leftover fireworks as he loves to have a 'blast' as much as his Rockin' Grandma does. He has a great attitude that spreads just like Kudzu!!!

We hunted for arrowheads and reptiles in the creek bed. Joel is our mad scientist and agile climber. He's always been able to climb up anything slicker than a harpooned hippo on a wet banana tree. If we ever lose Joel we've learned just to look up. He looks like my Dad and also portrays his prankster personality. When I'm missin' my Daddy all I have to do is look at this face and he flashes me the same familiar smile I grew up with.

We collected beautiful rocks. Some we're oddly shaped while others glittered in the beautiful summer sunlight. Little Miss Laura Ingalls...oops...I mean, Little Miss Sarah won the "Most Accidents Award" at Camp Grandma. I swear, this one could get hurt in a padded rubber room! She was injured so often, she'd look like she was gonna start cryin' like a pine knot in a sawmill then we'd look at each other and start laughin'. Cracked me up! Good thing she's tougher than a hungry one eared alley cat yet as sweet as southern tea!

We picked beautiful wildflowers. Prettier than a box full of speckled pups, (Mini~Me) Miss Honor shares my love (sick obsession) of flowers. Durin' Camp Grandma she dissected flower petals and covered my entire deck with a mass of brilliant color. (Sorry, no pics...I was busy feedin' the masses.) She's an artistic little soul with a heart as big as Texas and truly believes that she's a royal princess. Watchin' her is like peerin' through the lookin' glass at my little girl self.

We hiked many miles but someone with tired little feet thumbed a ride to hitchhike the rest of the way home with the help of big brother. Some people are just as cute as the dickens and know how to use it.

It was hotter than a mess of collard greens on the back of Granny Walden's old wood cook stove that week so there was lots of swimmin' where Honor lost her fear of the water. She sure gave the 'boys' a run for their money!!!

I had trouble keepin' the Toothless Wonder's water wings on her. She wanted to fearlessly swim across the pool without 'em. We struck up a bargain where she wore the wings the first half of the swim then she let Grandma Muzzie stick close by the last half. See that florescent lime green mat floatin' in the background? 'Doesn't float so good anymore. Heehehhee!!!

Look out Ester Williams, we performed synchronized Olympic water maneuvers with grace, style and attitude baby!!! We ate things like Frog Eyes, Shriveled Bat Wings with Possum Poop, Sugar Coated Moths and Slimy Blood Worms. We never, ever eat 'regular' food at Camp Grandmas. 'Wouldn't be prudent!

When we tired of hikin', climbin', swimin' and smashin' giant boulders we still had the energy to battle Galactic beings and conquer the universe. They do have the genes of that caped wonder 'Super Nezzy', ya know?

Most of all we had loads of smiles and heaps of fun. "Over the River and Through the Woods" was originally written as a Thanksgiving poem in 1844 by Lydia Maria Child from her childhood memories of visitin' her own grandparents home. It wasn't 'till 1951 the Andrews Sisters and Danny Kaye put it to music as the song we know today. I pray the memories made at Camp Grandma will make my grandkiddos sing happily forevermore, "Over the River and Through the Woods" to Grandmothers house we go!!!!

HAPPY TRAILS TO YOU!!!!

ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME

2011-10-18T04:00:00.002-05:00

Charmin' as a long shot candidate on Election Eve, Angel has had a horrifically difficult year . August 2010 this beautiful gal had a tumor removed from the base of her brain-steam and was diagnosed with Medullobastoma .She was lifted with God's love and masses of prayers as she seized the moon with her teeth and beat the cancer odds. I have to tell ya'll my heart was heavy the day she told me she was tired of the fight. Her bony body was unsteadily frail and she was so stinkin' skinny she'd need to run around in the shower to get wet. Doctors found puttin' weight on our Earth Angel was kinda like tryin' to put a dress on a worm. I'm pleased to say that Angel had her last souped up mega blast of chemo in September. Three weeks later it hit her like a ton of bricks when she lost her hair...again! She tells me it's difficult to remember a time before she had cancer. It's been all consuming for her.

Angel Dawn is now a full fledged seventh grader attendin' Tiny Town Middle School. Her favorite part of school is lunch (the girl does love to eat) and gettin' to participate in PE with her friends. The spunky little doll says havin' cancer has made her trust others, especially her family. Like any teen she loves the music of Taylor Swift, Avril Lavigne and Zach Brown. Although she still adores purple, she's quite smitten with blues and greens too. Angel is ecstatic that she's able to go outside and do 'normal' things like pick up walnuts and play with her animals. I saw the old twinkle return in her eye when she boasted "I jumped this week!" I have observed that she has become more self~confident and outgoin' through her illness.

Today she is stronger and has plumped up a bit. Isn't she prettier than the precious perfectly spotless lamb of Passover??? Ya gotta love that smile! She occasionally misses her friends at the hospital but doesn't miss the needles one bit. Angel returns to the hospital monthly to have her port flushed and every three months for a cancer recheck.

The girl's as happy as a hog in slop when she's in the presence of animals. She wants to be a Veterinarian or Board Animals when she grows up. Her current menagerie consists of six goats, five cats, twenty chickens, four callin' geese (forgive me, I have not self~control), five ducks, twenty~eight rabbits and the gerbils are multiplyin' to rapidly to count. Eat that Dr. Doolittle!!!

Amy Grant sings "God only knows the times my life was threatened just today." This Ozark Farm Chick must confess that watchin' Angel fight her battle tried my faith to the max this summer. The 1984 song that won the Grammy Award for Best Gospel Vocal Performance states, "If your asking me what's protecting me, then you're gonna hear me say: ' Got His angels watching over me, every move I make." Angel Dawn can belt out first hand that He's got His
"Angels Watching Over Me!!!"

Please read Angels amazin' story here (Pretty Little Angel Eyes) and here (Earth Angel).

*Angel is a neighbor of the Ponderosa. She is also one of my Sunday School students and a member of my Kid's Church. Would ya'll join with me in prayer that she remains cancer free?

PUPPY LOVE

2011-10-10T15:41:00.002-05:00

Her name could have easily been Hatchet, Buzz Saw or Wood Chopper but 'round here she's known as Pepper. This little Blue Heeler is wound tighter than a new girdle and has the jaw force to gnaw through most anything. Bred in Queensland, Australia, these popular ranch dogs are cultivated to herd wild~eyed cattle by 'nippin' at their heels. That's how she came to acquire her second name, Nipper. She joined the Ponderosa early this spring where she practiced her 'nipper' skills on this Ozark Farm Chick's naked heels. Now, that's about as cozy as wearin' barbwire panties. Ya'll should of seen the back of my heels! Ouch!!!

I do declare, trainin' Pepper Nipper not to jump on others or chase cars is goin' slower than a bread wagon on biscuit wheels down a dirt road. When this little prunin' expert sees cars or bodies she's off slicker than a chased greased hog on a downhill run. I swear she was more obedient as an itty~bitty puppy than she is now. She's gotta be in those rebellious 'teen' years.

Pepper has cluttered my otherwise immaculate yard 'cause anything she can drag, carry or kill ends up smack in the middle of it. She could chew the north end off a south bound polecat (skunk) or most anything else. She has pulled the drain tubing outta the bottom of my car, eaten the corners off the house, bedded down in my daylilies and massacred a forest of cannas. 'Chews 'em off right at the base folks and hollers, "timber"! The other day I was workin' in my rose garden when she nipped off all open blooms off slicker than a schoolmarm's leg. Hubs tried to convenience me our little Nipper was just helpin' deadhead and truly wasn't out to slaughter my beautiful gardens. Nope, this chick's not buyin' it! It's a conspiracy...she's disserverin' my efforts.

Puttin' all her trouble aside, Pepper Nipper is as smart as they come and very affectionate. She's always at my side (or on my heels) and will forever be my protector 'cause she's loyal that way. The song written and sang by Paul Anka for his girlfriend Annette Funicello (yep, they were really datin') hit the Billboard Hot 100 single chart in 1960. Donny Osmond's 1972 version is the more familiar adaption we all know and love today. Although Pepper tries my patience to the max and back again, I've definitely found myself fallin deep into this "Puppy Love"!!!

IT'S GROWING

2011-10-03T14:45:00.002-05:00

Barren as a freshly spaded female dog, this ginormous hole in the ground sat empty and lifeless a good part of the summer. We had just enjoyed a wonderful Ozark shower before the bulldozer was summoned thinkin' it would make for an easy dig. Mr. Burly Tobacco Spittin' Dozer Man uncovered earth that was drier that lizzard spit on a hot rock only an inch below the surface. The in-ground silo was dug just awaitin' some form of life.

Meanwhile, down in the bottom land there was activity takin' place. Hubs had planted a couple of the fields in dwarf sorghum this year. Yep folks, ya heard me right, this stuff was "dwarf". Can ya imagine if we planted the "giant" stuff? In spite of spring floods, tornadoes and summer drought this species of heavy headed grass yielded a whoppin' 311 tons. Woohoo baby, the cows are gonna eat high on the hog this winter just like my hunka'~ hunka' burnin' love who's outstandin' in his field! I love this man!!!

The chopper ate it's way through the fields like a hungry 'coon knawin' on a juicy ear of corn fillin' up one truck's appetite after another. We chopped our sorghum into silage (livestock feed) but with over thirty varieties it abounds in uses. It can be used to make syrup, molasses, fodder, alcoholic beverages, feed grain and seed. The trucks ran hard fillin' up our big barren hole in the ground where it suddenly took on a hue as green a gourd guts.

Tractors packed the green morsels down as tight as a camel's derriere in a sand storm while the trucks continued pilin' more in. The heat of the product began to radiate the sweetest smell arisin' from the once comatose cavern. New life grew as nature's enzymes worked hard to produce a priceless commodity. The choppin' crew said, "we ain't never seen a crop like this before!" Our phones began ringin' almost immediately with farmers wanting to book and purchase the quality livestock feed. Ya'll gotta remember...it's Tiny Town...word travels faster than an hyperactive auctioneer high on coffee can holler, "sold!"

I got to thinkin' that big old hole in the ground is kinda like a life without God, empty, barren and unproductive. Then ya plant the love of the Lord in our hearts and it simply makes us priceless children of God. Now, ya'll gotta love that transformation more than fresh molasses drippin' off a homemade biscuit. My Mini~Me asked Jesus into her heart a little over a year ago and kept it to herself for awhile 'cause she didn't want to hurt her daddy's feelings. She thought he might feel bad 'cause she now had a Second Daddy~God the Father. Doesn't that just melt your pea~pickin' hearts?

This summer Miss Honor decided to take a stand and be baptized, her public obedient declaration that she has decided to follow Jesus. Our little princess is not barren. The Temptations said it well when they sang,"like the rose bud blooming in the warmth of the summer sun," in the song written by Smokey Robinson back in 1965. I'm just pleased as punch to say that little Honor's faith, walk and relationship with God..." It's Growing!!!"

IT'S A MAN'S MAN'S MAN'S WORLD

2011-09-27T20:35:00.002-05:00

The day was prettier than a fat spotted pig standin' smack in the middle of a Missouri cornfield. It was June 18, 1997. 'Twas the day Geek Son had a job interview and my lovely daughter~in ~love , The Latin Lovin' Hillbilly, had a late stage doctor's appointment. This Ozark Farm chick was the designated driver for her appointment in the Big City. "I've been leakin' all mornin, is that a problem," was the question. "Hon, your water is breakin'... ya need to call your doctor right away," was my reply. Plantin' both feet firmly in the ground the well rounded Latin insisted we eat first. Mexican!!! She'd heard those stories how you couldn't eat while in labor so off to a Mexican Restaurant we went. Nope, this one couldn't survive on ice chips alone. Our Hillbilly sweetheart called her doctor's office as soon as the last bite was consumed. Faster than a hound can suck an egg we hoofed it off to the exam room where our soon to be mama was whisked away to the hospital. That was the day I called Geek Son away from his interview. Comin' by it quite natural, the babe ate salsa and chips before he had the teeth to eat 'em. Meet Ethan Issac, the center of attention at his first birthday party.

He was the first grandkiddo to ride a tractor. Yep folks, gotta start 'em young 'round these parts!!!

Ethan or 'Ike' as we sometimes call him, was the first put in the old washtub to eat his chocolate Easter bunny. Ya'll know what a twisted neat freak I am. It worked so dang well, I'd do it again!!! Matter of fact...I did. Heeehehehee!

This clone of his father, is an bright inquisitive child who drank in every experience with enthusiasm and gusto. He's always been a sweet tenderhearted child who has never gotten to old to give his Grandma Muzzie a great big squeeze.
As he got older, he grew a patch of hair on his chest, a mustache under his sniffer and he started talkin' like a briny pirate. 'Just one of the many great birthday parties The Latin Lovin' Hillbilly has thrown her handsome pirate.
Faster than the swish of a cow's tail on a humid Ozark summer day, Ethan appeared to become a rebel. I said appeared ya'll, don't let the vision of this fine young man fool ya. He's a kind thoughtful young man of God.
Sure shootin' this is one fella makes this rockin' grandma more blessed than the first mosquito that entered a nudist camp. My heart is full. Just as James Brown sang back in 1966 in his number one hit on his Billboard Top R&B single, Ethan has a fine strong foundation for walkin' right into " It's a Man's Man's Man's World !!!"

BTW: Geek Son still works for the company today where he missed that first interview. :o)

SOUNDS OF SILENCE

2011-09-19T16:00:00.002-05:00

Whew!!! I bet ya'll didn't know this Ozark Farm Chick could hold her breath the whole blessed summer. It's quite a feat for a gal as full of wind as a corn eatin' horse. "Grandma Muzzie has amazin' lung capacity" was announced by my Grandson, Geek Son Jr., after Camp Grandma last year. "Who Can Hold This Note the Longest" was the game and I'd bet the hills and hollers of this Ponderosa ya'll can guess who was the grand champ of that contest. I've always been able to hold my breath or belt out a note like a ovulatin' she~whale on the hunt for her ever lovin'hunka~hunka burnin' love from the ocean's deep.

Summer gobbled up my energy and time like a teenager on steroids devours pepperoni pizza. Hi, my name is Nezzy and I confess I became a little more than overwhelmed. Bein' the all or nothin' Type~A gal I am I just couldn't do both the blog and life justice. I remember sittin' a the breakfast table askin' Hubby just how the heck I kept up last summer as he reminded me I was too sick with those stinkin' shingles to do much of anything else. When the man's right he's right!

Words like floods, plantin', replantin',Forth of July bash, elder-care, tornadoes, Alzheimer Disease, farm hands, heart surgery, wheat harvest, birthdays, Camp Grandma, more heart surgery, glorious flower gardens, baptism, cattle, a major move, sorghum harvest, more birthdays and assisted livin' have flooded my family and my heart this summer. Dang it all to thunder, I haven't even enjoyed my Deep Clean Fridays for a month. I know...what is this world comin' to? I do so apologize to ya'll for just droppin' out. Thanks to all my wonderful blogsisters who have checked in on me over the summer. Ya'll make me happier than a duck on a June~bug. I know I have the best friends in all of Blogland.

Well tie me to an anthill and fill my ears with jelly 'cause if I don't write soon. my already cluttered brain is gonna burst faster then an overfilled water balloon. The posts are pilin' up in the old cerebellum faster than the manure in the low lands 'round here. Besides ya'll and writin' makes my heart sing.

Unlike those good old boys Simon and Garfunkel back in 1966, "The Sound of Silence," is not my cup of tea! Hopefully ya'll can find an upliftin' story and a good laugh when ya drop in instead of "The Sound of Silence"!!!

A SONG FOR MAMA

2011-05-07T12:10:00.002-05:00

Prettier than a spotted heifer in a pansy patch , she could charm the dew right off the roses with her bright smile. Christy Brinkley certainly had nothin' on Mama 'cause she was definitely an Uptown Girl all the way. Yep, she was about as country as the Macy's Day Parade or the last curtain call at a Broadway show.

She was accustomed to fancy dresses, high heals and Sunday's hats with white gloves. She was oblivious to toilets flushin' and fresh water flowin' from the kitchen faucet. A bath was enjoyed effortlessly as was the food purchased from the corner market. Mom was footloose and fancy free enjoyin' the company of great friends and livin' the single life. (Mom's on the left) That was until she fell like a rock for a solider boy who was stationed at Sandia Base in Albuquerque who was as country as cornbread. They married living there 'till Dad was discharged from the army. Now ya'll know ya can take the boy outta the country but ya can't take the country outta the boy so they were off to Missouri faster that a hungry roadrunner can snatch a lizard!

This was Mom's either fish or cut bait moment. Through sheer determination and a bit of stubbornness she seemed to adapt faster than green grass through a goose. Suddenly goin' for a swim on a hot summer day included a stock tank or a nearby pond. A leaky barn roof always took priority over the leaky house roof. Her shoppin' list not only included groceries but items like fuel filters, tires, overalls or spark plugs. The hair on the back of Mama's neck would stand at attention when Dad would say, "could ya come and help me a few minutes." She knew that she'd be returnin' a few hours later doin' only Lord knows what.

Movin' a city slicker to the country is almost like teachin' a pig to dance...it's a waste of your time and it irritates the pig but this gentlewoman did it with grace and style. She learned the language of her new found Hillbillyland. The words my Granny Walden spoke like put it in the 'safe' (cabinet) or I've got to go to the closet (outhouse). Yep, Mama watched her Mother~In~Law leave the house and walk around the bushes goin' to the 'closet'. It was a world they might relax on the 'davenport' (sofa) and if there was a chill in the air, cover up with a countypin (quilt).

Mama learn to handle critters she'd never seen before with ease and that lookin' at the ingredients for a supper recipe just might remind her to do her chores. Talk about Venus and Mars, this Farm Chick can't imagine the culture shock my Mother endured in the city to country transformation but she thrived and soon became a mother herself givin' all she had to her new baby daughter!

Here's this Ozark Farm Chick supported by the arms of the most important woman in my world, my Mother. This child bearer was an encourager and a prime mover in my life. She nourished me both physically and emotionally. She pampered me, kissed my boo~boos all while bein' my biggest motivator. She taught me humor and how important it is to laugh at myself. Most important of all, she taught me how to be a mother and a grandmother. I'm blessed with an amazin' role model I feel privileged to call Mom! Now, I'd be lyin' like a no legged dog if I said that the city didn't come out every now and again 'cause she dressed me like this.......

I'd be as baffled as Adam on Mother's Day without my precious Mother. She has grounded and centered me teachin' me both love and grace. I want to offer this song written by Babyface, sang by Boyz II Men and produced by Motown Records November 11, 1997, "A Song For Mama", to my sweet beautiful Mama on this Mother's Day. 'Love ya Mom!

ONE..... (Two Giveaway winners)

2011-04-27T13:18:00.003-05:00

Would ya'll look who I forgot! Isn't she a single sweetie? Yup, after I made that long, long slideshow of my collection of bunnies I left out one lonely little wide eared floppy legged bunny. I'm not sure this Ozark Farm Chick agrees with the song that bears the title of this post. "One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do" is the first line of the song that Harry Nilsson wrote and recorded.

I kinda like one. One is a good strong number. It stands alone firm and tall. When ya think about it, it only takes one to be happy and enjoy a beautiful day. It takes one to flash a smile to a lonely stranger or indulge in a decadent piece of chocolate. (Mmmm. I'm droolin' like a teethin' four month baby here.) One can read, exercise, snap the perfect photo or paint a masterpiece. This chick can enjoy aromatic flower gardens, relish a good book or belt out a great tune without the help of another livin soul. Heaven knows I'm the only one 'round the Ponderosa deep cleanin' and I sure don't require any help enjoyin' a scented bubble bath. There needs be only one to be creative, write a story or make a difference. Most important of all, it take only one to worship and praise God. Yep, one is a perfect number!
The second line of this song says, "two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one." Wrong! I'm not even gonna go there...wouldn't be prudent but two is a very lucky number for me 'cause I have two fabulous Happy Easter winners. Yep, usin' Random Generator, Miss Tracy over at My Thoughtful Spot and Miss Deb at Smith Family Cookbook each won a $25.00 gift certificate over at The Rusted Chain for a wonderful piece of jewelry! Woohoo!!! Don't that just make your toes curl? Thank you Beki for your generosity. Congratulations to both Tracy and Deb, please enjoy your new baubles. Hop on over, pat 'em on the back, say howdy and tell 'em Nezzy sent ya. If ya haven't check out The Rusted Chain...go... do it now...your in for a treat better than cold chocolate ice cream on a warm summer day!

I'm not so sure that Mr Nilsson knew what he was talkin' about when he wrote 'One' but the world truly loved it when the rock group Three Dog Night snagged it and cut a single in 1969. 'One' soared like a hawk after one of my songbirds to #5 on the Billboards Hot 100. Nope, this chick doesn't believe that one is the loneliest number nor do I buy that two can be as bad as one 'cause I adore bein' hitched. I'm one gal, one child of God and one farm chick who simply loves bein' "One"!!!

Easter Parade (Woohoo Giveaway)

2011-04-18T15:54:00.005-05:00

The Easter Bunny was born or hatched (that one is still kinda bogglin' the greatest scientific minds) in southwest Germany. Often refereed to as the Easter Hare, he was recorded in written publication durin' the 1500's. This Ozark Farm Chick is quite smitten with the chocolate version. MMMMmmm, my tummies rumblin' and the thighs are quiverin' just thinkin' about the savory little fella. The first edible Easter eggs were developed in Germany during the early 19th century concocted with pastry and sugar. The notion of the delightful Spring Bunny was introduced to the United States by German Pennsylvania Dutch settlers. Although the Chocolate Easter Bunnies are my favorite this chick also collects her fair share of the adorable cottontails. Yep, tucked here, yonder and there, ya'll can find a bunny hidden 'round almost every corner here on the Ponderosa. They make my heart flip! Aren't they the cutest???

To celebrate Love, Spring and Easter that sweet Beki over at The Rusted Chain is offerin' two of you faithful readers a $25.00 gift certificate to her beautiful online store. Now, doesn't that make you skirt fly all the way up? Shoot, she's even makin' me a beautiful personalized necklace for hostin' this great giveaway. Woohoo!!! Her most original and unique handcrafted jewelry has been featured in various magazines, advertisements, upscale boutiques and has been spotted on the sets of shows like Law and Order Criminal Intent. The Rusted Chain features Beki's Christian themed and custom baubles that ya'll can even add a personal touches to. Her Designs are a mix of rustic elegance for today's fashionista's. Beki's a farm chick herself who lives with her hubby and three beautiful youngens in an old farmhouse. Ya'll can also visit her on her on The Rusted Chain Blog where she shares the love of God, her beautiful photography and a little piece of her world. Please go visit both Beki's store and blog. Ya'll be happier than a starvin' buzzard with sun-baked road kill!!!

The love that God has for his children just blows my mind all to thunder. The fact that he loved us all, no matter our faults or failures, so unconditionally that He sacrificed His only Son to die a most horrific death for us. Wow!!! That makes me high as country air! Easter is a special time for all mankind. Some celebrate by participating in festivities like an Easter Parade. This popular melody was written by Irving Berlin in 1917 where he later added words and published the song in 1933. Bing Crosby sang it in the 1942 film Holiday Inn. I want ya'll to enter my Easter Giveaway simply by leavin' a comment to celebrate Easter. Then ya'll can go put on your new fancy dresses, frilly bonnets, shinny new shoes and some new beautiful jewelry by Beki and head out to the "Easter Parade"!!!

Happy Easter and the best of luck to ya'll!

WALK LIKE A MAN

2011-04-11T15:17:00.006-05:00

My dear Granny Walden used to say, "girl...if it has testicles or wheels watch out 'cause it's gonna give ya a whole heap of trouble." This is the same wise woman who told me when she found out I was about to marry a dairy farmer, " you walk into that milk barn and act like ya never seen a cow before, child, 'cause if ya start milkin' you'll be the one stuck with it 'till the day the good Lord takes ya home." I decided my Granny was one smart cookie so I obeyed and never ever milked the cows but let me tell ya'll I've done 'bout every thing else up and down these Ozark hills and hollers that would boggle a three year old's most vivid imagination. We farm wives learn to read our men but I've never ever made it a secret that my favorite sayin' 'round here is, "ya want me to do what???"

In plannin' our fairytale life this Ozark Farm Chick didn't include visions of rakin' hay, drivin' loaded semi's outta swampy mud of the silage pit or pullin' said semi' outta that pit backwards with the big blue tractor. Nor anywhere in our weddin' vows did I say," I promise to stand at corrals covered in sweat, manure and the dust that the wild~eyed cattle stir up to fill vaccination syringes, hand knives for castration, pass dehorners to lop of horns, hold straws to inseminate cows and still have a good meal on at noon for the hungry Strongbacks (farm hands) all while singin', I Am Woman." I am as ya know... (super) Nezzy! Durin' the thirty eight years of wedded bliss to the man of my dreams, I've learned a thing or two about our dog huggin' critter lovin' rural farm fellas.

They can remember the purchase price of the old cow that bit the dust ten years ago, the fertilizer rate five years ago, the seed population from last year, the current cattle market average and crop yield rates but cannot remember the gallon of milk you need without a written note and five reminder calls durin' the day. I've learned that these fine gents will never ever throw out one of those plastic five gallon buckets or any rusty bolt and piece of scrap metal that they may just need someday. We farm chicks know that our men may know nothin' about fashion but they all have a special cap they wear to work, one especially for the local livestock barn, one just for a farm auction, another to plow in and the 'good' one that's put back for that rare vacation.

I would never ever ask my Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love for the use of his pocket knife 'cause we farm wives know that same knife has been used to castrate newborn calves, scrape the manure off nasty barn boots and peel an apple for the hungry man's afternoon snack. I've always had a theory all farm fathers teach their sons to run over their wife's favorite flowers or tiny strugglin' tree so that 'she' will never ever 'let' ya mow the yard again!!!' I can hear 'em sayin' , "ya only have to do it once!" Sure worked that way here on the Ponderosa.

There are just a few items we ever lovin' farm spouses would like for our honeys to know about us. A good farm wife can throw a meal together in two minutes and serve that meal six hours later if necessary. We are as comfortable operating large farm equipment as our guys would be in a barbed wire jock strap. Just sayin'! We don't view a trip out the the workin' pens on a Saturday night to sort cattle by flashlight as a night out. A trip to Bass Pro is not considered the perfect date night. We truly aren't convinced a deer head or a dead varnished fish adds ambiance of our home's decor. We farm chicks love our fellas more than chocolate cake heaped with fudge icin' and we'll do anything for 'em.

Hubs took this picture on the way to Jefferson City last summer. Yes Virginia, there is really an annual Testicle Festival. "Walk Like a Man was the song The Four Seasons recorded under some extraordinary circumstances. March 2, 1963 the voices of lead singer Frankie Vaili and the bass tones of Nick Massi echoed in the recording studio of the Abbey Victoria Hotel which caught fire durnin' the session. The group locked the door and refused to leave before the song that remained at the top of the charts for three weeks was completed. Gotta be a man thing! It wasn't until the firemen broke through with their mighty axes that the group left the building with their hit song in hand determined as a farmer gatherin' their last stray into the herd. I'm thrilled I married my farm fella and wouldn't have it any other way. These country men sure know how to love a gal as we gush and swoon while watchin' 'em "Walk Like A Man!!!"

Whew, fan me now baby!

GOOD LUCK CHARM

2011-03-28T14:27:00.004-05:00

This is one chick who doesn't own a four~leaf clover, wear a penny in my shoe, lug around a horseshoe in my purse, dangle a rabbit's foot from my neck yet I feel as lucky as the proverbial fat cow who wouldn't fit in the cattle trailer to the slaughter house who got turned out to pasture in high grass!!! Woohoo!!!

Back a spell I won Pioneer Woman's new book, "Black Hills and Tractor Wheels" over at that sweet Teresa's place, Grammy Girlfriend! Now, if that don't crank your tractor ya must not be breathin'!!! Let me tell ya'll this is one book I can identify with! Teresa is one terrific gal who adores sharin' her love of God with others and is as about as proud as a Grammy can get when it comes to her adorable grandkiddos. Her blog oozes the love she shares with family,friends and fellow bloggers. She also has a wonderful Christmas blog A Baby Changes Everything. Life has been tougher than a two~dollar steak for her this past year so please, go pay her a visit, sit a spell...take your shoes off!

I have to tell ya'll the blender I've been usin' was ancient and about as useless as a Popsicle stick in quicksand! Tammy over at Flat Creek Farm gave me the great opportunity to enter her CSN Store giveaway for a fifty~dollar gift code. I'd already set my mind I was gonna buy a blender if I won. Imagine my delight when my Missouri Christian sister contacted me that I'd won but wait folks...it gets better. I hopped over to the CSN site to use my gift code and found a Cuisinart blender originally priced $110.00. This Ozark gal usually gets the standard Osterizer blender at Wally~World but this dream was marked down 46% makin' it $59.85. Well, call my mama 'cause this was somethin' I could do and the blender even qualified for free shippin'. Does life get any better? I entered my $50.00 code payin' out of pocket only $9.85 for my beautiful $110.00 Cuisinart that I love more than a chubby farm boy loves cake. Talk about squeezin' a quarter so tight the eagle screams!

Please go visit beautiful Tammy over at Flat Creek Farms where you'll find all kinds of rural things like rooster saddles (now there's two word I never thought I'd use together) and some of the cutest little mini~donkey's you've ever laid eyes on!

I've heard it said, "keep Nezzy away from the magic markers...she's dangerous!!!" Yep, I love to draw, doodle and have a colorful blast, it's just the way I fly. I was doin' quite the happy dance here on the Ponderosa when Kimberly over at Forever Daisies notified me that I'd won her Sharpie and Sticky Note giveaway. Yippee tie yie yay, if that's not just finer than frog hair split four ways! Ya'll know gal can never have too many Sticky Notes or Sharpies so I'm in Doodle Heaven! Kimberly is a precious small town girl who'll do just about anything to get that perfect photo. Wonder if she gives lessons? Her creativity flows through her lovely blog and when it comes to flowers she's just a daisy kinda gal. Stop by over at Forever Daisies and meet Kimberly.

Yep, this is one gal who doesn't need a good luck charm to be blessed. Oct 15th, 1961 Elvis Aaron Presley recorded one lucky pop song that reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and remained number one for two weeks. Born in Tupelo, Mississippi, Elvis didn't need a good luck charm either 'cause everything he touched turned to gold but just as The King sang this fine tune ya can hear this Ozark Farm Chick beltin' out that great old sixties hit "Good Luck Charm!!!"

COLD AS ICE

2011-03-18T13:06:00.003-05:00

I make no bones that I think winter is about as useful as a rubber crutch. This Ozark Farm Chick is a summertime gal. I thrive in my biker shorts, cute little tees and flippies. I adore workin' my acre of flower gardens and afternoon dips in my swimmin' pool. Ya know, the things dreams are made of. This winter has been colder than a cast iron commode on the shady side of an iceberg and I have not hidden the fact that 'Nezzy' has not been a happy camper. With that said, of all things I could collect... I collect snowmen!!! I know, that makes me about a crazy as a sprayed roach but I love the little cold~hearted fellas. You will fine 'em nestled into every nook and corner of the Ponderosa's homestead from the edge of Autumn through the early stages of Spring.

Woohoo!!! It's Deep Clean Friday and I've been busier than a set of jumper cables at a Redneck picnic. Yep, faucets sparkle, furnace filters cleaned, floors shine and the dust mites are gaspin' for air. Ya'll know how clean rocks my world but as I was cleanin' I had little eyes givin' me cold hard stares. I'm thinkin'...it might be time to put my crystal gents with the carrot noses away, Spring bein' Sunday and all. Ponderin' on how each and every snowflake is as unique and individual as God made us, I carefully wrapped each snowman to be packed away. In doin' so I noticed that some of my snowmen have yellowed over the years while others are still pure white. Yellowed kinda like us when we allow sin into our lives. Psalm 51:7 says "Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." Now, I can't take the aromatic plant hyssop used to clean in ancient days to wash away my sins but this plant was also used in religious rituals in comparison to the blood of Christ. That's somethin' this chick can wrap her brain around! Now, if that don't put the pepper in the Gumbo!!!

Ya'll know that goin' to church doesn't make ya a Christian anymore than standin' in a garage makes ya a car. Far to often we are yellowed with unkindness we show others instead of reflectin' love of Jesus. Our hearts can become as stinkin' cold as the little snowmen I just packed away. Spring is upon us, a time of rebirth and new beginnings. I don't want to be like the 1977 British~American band Foreigner who sang "Cold as Ice" on their Billboard Hot 100 list record. As the warm rays of the sun melts winter's remnants from the earth, I yearn for The Son to warm my soul allowin' me radiate the warmth of His precious love. I want to be a servant, a warm lovin' child of God. I want it to never be said of me that "she was...Cold as Ice!!!"

TEMPTATION EYES (a winner)

2011-03-09T13:40:00.004-06:00

The molecular formula is C₁₂H₂₂O₁₁for this edible crystalline carbohydrate commonly known as 'table sugar' . Scientifically the word sucrose or "sugar" is used for any mono or di-saccharide. Realeasin' a whoppin' 1,619 KJ's of energy, this sweet treat when added to food is called sucrose. Hosting 99.98% pure delicious carbs when found naturally is called fructose. Whatever form ya milk it from this is one chick who has a whole mouth full of sweet teeth! Give me a little chocolate and it makes me feel like I've done gone and got Yankee rich!!! Yep, the sweet stuff temps me to the max. Whew, there I said it. I feel better now. Folks, I keep all sweet treats here on the Ponderosa frozen deep in a forbidden corner of my freezer or else I'd be as fat as a tub of lard on butcherin' day and it would take two dogs to bark at me!

If things got any better here for Miss Sarah Grace we'd have to hire someone to come help her enjoy it. Gracie is an excellent eater and here she is demonstratin' how to eat a lion cupcake with all the style that is uniquely hers. This rockin' grandma thinks she's doin' a mighty fine job. Why, eatin' a cupcake like this without wearin' it would be harder than chasin' a herd of cats into a crowded dog kennel! As you can see 'Gracie' has a sweet tooth or two herself. I'm tempted to scoop up this little sugar cube every time she bats those beautiful big browns at me!!!

I've been sicker than a sixth grade boy who snuck into his grand~pappy's bag of chaw this week with a nasty stomach bug. Makin' like Mount Kilimanjaro and runnin' a temp of 103 I've been so weak I'd be hard put to pull the skin off custard but I did manage to use Custom Random Generator. Takin' all the strength I could muster up, I loaded the numbers 1-140. Woohoo....we have a winner of the $40.00 gift code over at CSN stores. I know the suspense is killin' ya'll so our winner is number one hundred and twelve. Our Canadian friend Knitwit over at '2kids, 2dogs, 2cars, 2tired' is the winner. Go pop over, pay her a visit and congratulate her on a great win. I wish I had a big old prize for each and every one of ya! Ahhhh, there's that temptation thing again.

Our lovely blogsister 'Knitwit' will be singin' right along with the Guess Who happier than a spring robin on wet ground, "oh temptation eyes lookin' through my, my, my soul!" Beltin' out like that US rock band back in the 1970's whose single was released by Dunhill records. "Temptation Eyes" only made it to number fifteen on the US Billboard charts but that lucky Knitwit made it to number one. Winnin' $40.00 to spend over at CSN Stores she no longer has to look longingly at all that cool merchandise with those "Temptation Eyes"!!!

CONGRATULATIONS GIRL!

IV'E GOT SO MUCH TO GIIVE

2011-03-01T11:11:00.003-06:00

Hillbilly Entertainment Center

Hi, my name is Nezzy and I am a virgin. I have to confess, lately I have been propositioned temptin' me to give up my pure untouched chastity. Yep, this Ozark Farm Chick is a giveaway virgin and those wonderful folks over at CSN Stores have tickled my fancy so I'm gonna jump right in with both feet like two starstruck lovers in a barn filled with hay and have a grand giveaway! After I saw what CSN Stores have to offer I was on this giveaway wagon like stink on a polecat!!!

These fine folks have just about anything a body could ever want or dream up. They have everything I would ever need for my Deep Clean Fridays, my personal day of the week!!! Sorry, I'm just twisted like that. CSN Stores have washing machines to wash your finest leggin's, vacuums to make your home dustless, great dust pans to sweep it up all up in and even toilet brushes to make the commode sparkle. Bestow my heart they have polish to shine, steam machines....fan me now baby and even fancy soap dispensers. What would a Deep Clean Friday be without a stylish close hamper to put those nasty manure and dirt covered cloths in and a great basket for the clean folded items??? Now if that just don't make your skirt fly up I don't know what would. Oh I love to clean, it centers me and make my heart sing!

These fine folks as CSN carry more stuff that Wally~World and then some. For your kitchen they have blenders that whirl and microwaves galore. Heck, they even carry dishwashers ya can wash it all up in. I snooped though their inventory and found luxury thick fluffy bath towels to toilet seats for the bath. I even spotted a Rubber Ducky there. You can stock your bedroom with everything from mattresses to designer beddin' that'll make your toes curl. For the great outdoors I looked at beautiful patio furniture, bird feeders some of the most charmin' birdhouses ya ever laid eyes on. They even had a selection of lawn mowers for this Lawn Ranger. Ooooh, I do so like my grass even but what I truly want to talk about are television stands.
Shortly before Christmas Hubby bought a beautiful flat panel plasma television that would not fit into our current unflat regular television console. Ya know, kinda like tryin' to hammer a rectangle peg into a square hole. My current console was about as useless as a trap door on a canoe so Hubs brought in this Craftsman Workbench from the barn and thought it would do nicely. Hence, the Hillbilly entertainment center. Well let me tell ya Mable, this chick was online with credit card in hand faster that a fly on a fresh cow patty. I found the perfect little console to sneak into my little television corner at flat panel TV stands at that wonderful CSN Store. Woohoo!!! Now isn't that prettier than a blob of butter meltin' on a stack of wholewheat pancakes???
My Non~Hillbilly flat panel TV stand from CSN Stores.

The fine folks are givin' me a whoppin' $40.00 gift code to give to one of my lucky readers. I'm just so happy ya'll could tie me to a ping and roll me in the mud!!! What do ya'll have to do to enter. K.I.S.S. (keep it simple sister!) All ya have to do is leave a comment. That's all folks! I apologize but this contest is restricted to US and Canadian readers only.
God bless and good luck ya'll!!!

HOW CAN YOU MEND A BROKEN HEART

2011-02-21T11:20:00.006-06:00

Several weeks ago I was hit with something so intense that it stabbed into my heart faster than a champion butcher could debone a chicken. Not childbirth, broken bones nor even a hit in the chest by a seven hundred pound wild~eyed bovine has come close to the pain I have endured. I feel as though I've had a Cardiectomy. Just like a star in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, this chick might as well been a living sacrifice in the underground temple of the Thuggees and let Mola Ram reach into my beatin' chest and yank my heart right out. It has left my spirit lower than an Ozark black snakes belly in a muddy tractor rut. Sadly I am in a position I can do nothing but pray and believe me I've prayed. Forgive me Lord for I am not a patient person...I'm Nezzy, your action figure, a doer, a fixer and a peacemaker.
Yep folks....I'm a Martha. I'm the gal ya see speedin' across the room or yard like a flash of lightin' makin' sure that everyone is well fed, havin' a grand time and gettin' along with one another. I take action. It's the way I fly....I'm just that kinda chick. I see a need, I get~'er~done! Now, will ya'll see me sittin' at the feet of Jesus' soakin' in every sweet breath of His Word like Mary??? You bet your sweet bippy ya would but you could wager your bottom dollar I'd be trimmin' his toenails and scrubbin' his callouses while makin' sure he had his favorite snack within reach along with a nice cool tall glass of iced tea in his holy hand. I'm about as confused as a hungry cow on AstroTurf just waitin' and prayin'. It's Hubby who reminds me that we don't have the answer but we know the Almighty One who does. It is Hubby who recognizes the helplessness in my gaze and tells me, "it'll be allllll~right!" He says it so well. I know it will be all~right 'cause I know who holds tomorrow but that sure doesn't mean I sit still well or the pain is any less consuming.

Barry and Robin Gibbs touched on the subject in their soft~rock adult contemporary ballad sang by the Bee Gees in 1971 released by IBC Studios in London on the Atco Label, "How Can You Mend A Broken Heart." I sing out the words, "please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again!" I know God is in control and I covet your prayers. I'd be much obliged if someone could tell me " How Can You Mend A Broken Heart ???"

Note: A Cardiectomy is a scene outta Indiana Jones Temple of Doom where the heart is removed from a living sacrifice. I have not had a heart attack, surgery,my heart literally removed or any physical ailment concerning my heart. What I'm experiencing is totally emotional.

EARTH ANGEL

2011-02-11T15:52:00.003-06:00

Smilin' like a goat in a brier patch this little lady celebrated her twelfth birthday on January 11th. She said her ice cream and cookie cake was the best part of her special day. This past year has been tougher than the back-end of a shootin' gallery for Angel. Yep folks, that in her real name. Last August a tumor at the base of her brain-stem was removed and diagnosed as malignant Medullobastoma. The surgery removing the tumor compromised her right side motor skills makin' it difficult to perform tasks that most of us take for granted. This 110 pound doll was hit hard with radiation and got so skinny ya couldn't see her shadow on a sunshiny day. Bless her heart, her weight plummeted into the mid~sixties as she lost her own beautiful hair and her skin was burned by the treatments. A test revealed another mass where the first tumor was removed. Angel underwent a second surgery which uncovered only scar tissue this time. To get the nutritional requirements needed to fight this battle, doctors put in a feeding tube. She has been undergoin' chemo treatments weekly and will continue to do so 'till mid~September.

Angel said the worse day of her life was when the doctor sat by her bedside talking frankly with her in detail about her illness and the course of action to treat it. The best part of her journey has been the many friends she has made at the hospital. She just beamed as she spoke of her special friends Kate and Emma who are in a commercial promotin' St. Judes Hospital. Her Christmas was so very special this year filled with love gifts from Physical Therapy, Church, Hospitals and many, many strangers just like you. Angel's Christmas last year was not celebrated with festive presents but only by the love of her family. I have four legal pad pages filled with the love gifts sent by you, my wonderful blogsisters. You guys are the best! This Ozark Farm Chick is still overwhelmed with all the love, emails and prayers ya'll have heaped upon Angel. I do believe ya'll are sportin' your own wings!

Although Angel misses runnin' and playing with her dogs she is beginnin' to write with her right hand again. She is attending school as her condition allows for sometimes chemo shoots her immune system through the basement. Poor gal discovered that two of her best buds moved away during the absence of her illness. She is tried of people tryin' to do everything for her and just wants to be 'normal'. Angel is now weighin' in around 80 pounds and when she hits the 90 pound mark that feedin' tube comes out baby!!! Through it all she has retained her odd but wonderful sense of humor. A nurse asked as she was leavin' the room, " dear, is there anything I can do for you?" Angel piped up, "yeah, you can clean my window." Just as the nurse was about to find someone in housekeepin' Angel finished her statement, "on the outside." She was on the seventh floor!!! She's twisted like that...heeehehehe!!!

Angel told me that havin' cancer has made her more aware of God and has drawn her closer to Him. She once told me in Kid's Church shortly after her diagnosis that if God wanted to take her it was OK, she was ready to go as long as He brought her brother back home safely from that 'Big Sandbox' in Afghanistan. Doesn't that just melt your heart? The girl does live up to her name 'cause she's just a precious selfless Earth Angel.

"Earth Angel" was actually written for the B~side of "Hey Senorita" but a D~J flipped the record and the song quickly climbed to number one on the charts late in 1954. The Penguins first sang the American Doo~Wop tune under the Dootone label on the seven inch vinyl record. Our young Angel loves the songs of Taylor Swift, the color purple and any animal who takes breath. She is a sweet soul whose smile can light up a room and loves the Lord with all her heart. Even though life has been as rough as a old dried up corncob her attitude makes her my hero...my Earth Angel!!!

THREE BLIND MICE

2011-02-02T10:48:00.003-06:00

It's colder than a two day corpse in an ice house and the multi~layers of frozen glaze on the ground range from freezin' rain to fluffy wet snow. Here on the Ponderosa we feed critters....all sorts of critters. This is one Ozark gal who feeds wild birds year round. Rocky the squirrel always has an ear of corn hangin' on the big Oak tree to nibble when a cravin' strikes him and Tiger the Wonder Dog continuously enjoys a full meal deal. The cattle always have well rounded meals and the donkeys tummies are plump. I have to admit I've seen,'coon, 'possum, skunk, armadillo, coyotes, deer, wolves, big cats, lost horses, neighbors buffalo and yes even bears takin' advantage of our generous portions but there is one thing 'round these parts that is about as welcome as an outhouse breeze in the heat of summer are mice. Even worse are their giant kissin' cousins 'RATS'!!! Big fat furry bold overfed rats!

I would walk around the place doin' chores hearin' little movements 'round the foundation. Since the place is surrounded by active birds, lizards and who knows what that will sun on my steppin' stones on a warm day, I truly didn't give it a second thought 'til one day after unloadin' my supplies I noticed somethin' dart by outta the corner of my eye. Bein' the curious chick I am I decided to make like Nancy Drew (didn't ya just love those books???) to take the watch and wait approach. Much to my surprise a well fed rodent zipped straight to Tiger's dog dish grabbed a kibble, devoured it then helped himself to more. Since Tiger wasn't present, 'cause he was at my Mother~in~Love's runnin' with her dog Bobby (Kinda like Dumb and Dumber, did I ever mention that Tiger is about as sharp as a bowl of mashed 'taders???) I removed his dish from the scene. I offered up a delightfully delicious dish of green Decon pellets and impatiently waited. Heaven help me here... I'm not a patient kinda gal! Almost immediately I had three rats feastin' on their poisonous banquet. I watched them devour three large Jiffy Peanut-butter lids filled with Decon then after a playful game of tag 'round the tires of my car one of the little fellas curled up on my doormat and took a leisurely nap. This is the moment I picked up the phone and demanded Hubby to bring somethin' 'stronger' home 'cause I wasnt' havin' no 'Watch Rat' on my doorstep and the Decon was about as useful as buttons on a dishrag at this point!!!

The little furry fellas finished off my supply so I brought their platter in. The next time I passed by the French door there stood three fuzzy varmints searchin' for their dish lookin' in at me as to say, " oh please, pretty please Mam, may we have just one more morsel???" Later that day I put out the 'bait' that was used at our local feed mill to keep such critters at bay, surly that would be the death of my new found friends. Thanks Hubs, sorry for the bossiness but times like these call for a chick to be a bit demandin'. Heck, these Super Rodents were cartin' off my ten pound supply of Hombri Mini Blocks off faster than I could put 'em out. No doubt for the big orgy they were were plannin' to have above our family room that night. I made the little ferrous tenants my famous poison peanut-butter balls. Ya know the ones my dear DIL said, "If Mom kicks the bucket, were not takin' anything outta her freezer 'cause we'd be dippin' 'em in chocolate and eatin' them!!!! The ones that almost always insure sudden death but this time my deadly treat didn't work any better than a rubber-nosed woodpecker in a petrified forest. This was war!!! Somethin's eatin' my storage building!!! Really, gnawed a big old hole right through the thing and it has big thick wood siding. I purchased some Just One Bite, a warfarin free product as was the Hombre, and placed it everywhere. I made the peanut~butter balls outta it, I mixed quick set concrete and granola with it. It's been several days since I've heard the pitter patter of little toes or the gnashin' of teeth. Hopefully... I've seen the last of their antics!!!

This English nursery rhyme and musical round was published in "the Seconde part of Musics Melodie in 1609 by the teenage author Thomas Ravenscroff. We as humans are far too often as blind as those three blind mice. We walk around with blinders so busy and burdened with cares that we can't see the 'Light' that surrounds us every blessed day. God is our light but folks Satan is workin' overtime. He is out to steal our joy, ruin families and darken our days. Today I beg you to pause, take off those dark glasses and enjoy the rays of His real truth. Bask in the warm lovin' light that our Heavenly Father brings 'cause I sure don't want to end up in total darkness like one of those "Three Blind Mice!!!"

THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD

2011-01-24T12:24:00.004-06:00

The road is long, eleven hundred and forty-five miles down and eleven hundred and forty-five miles back. There are times the miles seem to crawl by slower than a slimy snail drunk on molasses crawlin' up an ice hill in January. I knew the trip would be a difficult one but this Ozark Farm Chick had no clue how stressful it would be. We have traveled this road many times before but this time the trip to Brownsville, Texas was for my Daddy's memorial service. It would be the last goodbye and a time for closure.

I was lookin' forward to leavin' the frigid temperatures behind but dang, if we didn't hit ice in Temple, Texas and the the temps in Brownsville were colder than a bankers heart on foreclosure day at the widow's and orphan's home. I didn't expect the shingles to come along and play tag over the Grand Tetons on the second day of the trip. I'd rather jump barefoot off a six foot ladder into a five gallon bucket full of porcupines than to speak in front of a room full of adults but Mom requested me to offer up a tribute for my Daddy . Yep, I sucked it up, swallowed my fear, shoved down my emotions and presented it just for my sweet Mama. I had this Norman Rockwell vision of family time togetherness but the days were full and crazier than a run over dog. I have to praise my children for jumpin' in to do whatever it took to support my Mama and contribute to the beautiful service.

Dad himself was a giver and would of been so proud of the generations he helped to create. He sure was delighted to be a grandpa himself to my two in the photo above. Dad was there to pick me up when I fell. He's the one who always made sure I had 'enough' money. He's the one who brought a truck filled with ten bred heifers to help stock the Ponderosa. The one to put Geek Son in his first saddle. The man who told me with conviction that Social Butterfly would survive her heart surgeries and grow up someday to make me a grandmother. What can I say? The man knew his stuff!!! I just pray that I can offer love and support to my family in a way that would make my Daddy's eyes light up and plant that big old ear to ear grin of his face.

Dad was honored with a twenty-one gun salute and the most beautiful flag ceremony I have ever witnessed. A slide show of Dad's life was presented throughout the service. The family released red, white, and blue star balloons were soared into the heavens and a wonderful meal was shared with dear friends and family. Just like our journey, life is like a long and winding road. This was one of the last Beatles song that Paul McCartney wrote back in 1969. Paul actually had Ray Charles in mind as he wrote the words but the road didn't go there. Just as I am elated to be back home, I know in my heart my Daddy is too, 'cause he too has traveled "The Long And Winding Road."

GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIME

2011-01-12T05:15:00.004-06:00

The Ozark skies were grayin' and there was a crisp wet feel in the air that confirmed a dreaded Missouri ice storm was headed our way. It was January fifth nineteen hundred and seventy three. This Ozark Farm Chick could be heard beltin' out the song, "I'm gettin' married in the mornin'! Ding dong! The bells are gonna chime....", from Mama's little country kitchen as I prepared the rehearsal dinner. The circumstances were definitely not desirable for the perfect dream weddin'. Mother Nature had blessed us with a most horrific ice storm as a wedding present, the wrong flowers were delivered to me and mine were a guest at another weddin', the photographer did not show...Heck, he didn't even bother to call. The handsome little ring bearer ran across my train and ripped it from my dress. Just a typical hitchin'...right??

Well this is one gal who wasn't gonna let a few mind blowin' disasters keep her from marrin' the man of her dreams. I AM Nezzy ya know!!! The Best Man drove all night and delivered the groom's parents and grandmother. Even though they were sittin' in different towns the flowers were switched, just in time. Who needs a professional photographer when ya have a future sister~in~law with a trusty brownie flash camera willing to snap away??? Oh my goodness glory, thank heavens for the extra diaper pins we discovered in the church's nursery to pin the train back on my dress. Despite the horrific circumstances we said our, "I~dos'!

Thirty eight years ago I sang the song that Alfred P. Doolittle sang in the 1956 musical "My Fair Lady" as I cooked and listened to my Grandmother Dow (Ma) gigglin' at me in the background. Thirty eight years ago on January sixth I married the man on my dreams after beltin' out that old show-tune song...."Get Me To The Church On Time!!!"

.........and they moved to the Ponderosa and lived happily ever after! I just love a happy ending.

You've Got a Friend

2011-01-04T13:10:00.003-06:00

The tendency to strongly desire the best for one another could depict friendship. Some characteristics of a good buddy might be showin' sympathy and empathy. Ya'll want your friend to be honest, understandin' and compassionate. I don't know 'bout you but I want to trust my friend and receive emotional support. I'm not askin' too much here, am I? Friendship is completely a give and take relationship. The Good Book says in Proverbs 18:24 that , "A man that hath friends must show himself friendly: and there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother. We all have access to Jesus...the perfect eternal friend but baby we're mortal and need those great flesh and blood friends too. In that category this very blessed Ozark gal has had some chummy bosom chums. Yep, we're tight like a wet swimsuit two sizes too small on a long ride home from the lake.

When I was just a young chicklet I had the best girlfriend a gal could ever hope for. (That's me next to my little dog Tiny.) Why, we were as tight as pages in a big old book and as happy as a dog with two tails. We met in the first grade 'cause back in the day we didn't have kindergarten. We traveled through elementary school, high school and college together. Where you'd see one you were gonna see the other. Yep, we hung together like long hair in a biscuit. Folks, could I tell ya'll some stories! When we married, we were Maid of Honor in each others weddings but years and miles have separated us in body but not the bond of friendship we share.

I met my grown-up best friend at Church. Not that she replaced my childhood friend at all but it's just a different kinda friendship. She is a sweet spirited gal who loves the Lord with all her heart and my adult years has been better 'cause she has touched my life in only the way a great friend can. I always know my secrets are as safe as a tick on a stiff necked dog with her and I can count on her for absolutely anything. She is my cohort, companion and confidaunt who just makes me as happy as a lone rooster in the hen house!!!

While makin' the long trip back from Brownsville Texas last October, I was about as low as a gal could get. Knowin' that I would never see my Daddy again and bein' so far away from my family, it was the toughest trip I've ever made. Under the best circumstances, it is a difficult drive. The one way the journey is 1145 miles long. We had spent the night in Arkansas where I know my good old bloggin' buddy lived. I knew she lived in Tiny Town and that she worked at the Post Office. We got up the next mornin' and I asked Hubby if we by any chance traveled through Tiny Town and he said, "no...but we could."After travelin' up a mountain on the windin' roads where ya saw the road below had me shakin' like a scared cat in a dog pound, we reached the Post Office of Tiny Town where I requested Gail. "She don't work here,"...."She works over in Teeny Town." My Hubs bein' the hunka hunka burnin' love he is drove me to Teeny Town as exhausted as we were to meet my beautiful bloggin' buddy. It was a delight and the highlight a very difficult trip. I took one look at her and she took one fearful look at me. ( Ya, see....she thought I was a postal inspector....heeehehehe!) I told her to ," get out here and give me a hug!" She did and we hugged and talked and hugged and laughed and did I mention we hugged??? Pop over and meet the sweetest gal, Gail...."At the Farm."

Look at this!!! I won the lottery over at Teresa's at "Grammy Girlfriend". She also has been a great bloggin' friend who is a big believer in sendin' real cards by real mail. Just look at this lovely box, it was chucked full as Pappy's belly after Thanksgivin' Dinner. Not only was it filled with beautifully assorted cards there was a gorgeous ceramic 'laugh' hanger. She included a book, "Your Late Again Lord", the impatient guide to God's timing. How'd she know.....I want everything YESTERDAY? There were winter envelopes with snowmen on 'em. Just happens I collect the little cold hearted fellas. A 'Cooking Light' magazine with recipe makeovers for a healthier me and a 'All You' magazine filled with $24.00 worth of coupons. I clip 'em...I'm just that kinda chick! If that wasn't enough there was a beautiful John Rossini "Life Itself" calendar that I can slip in my purse. I keep my life in these things and this one is already filled out and ready to go. How did she know??? Thank you Teresa my friend. Please hop over and wish her a great New Year, the last year really threw her some life challenges.

Yep, this chick is as wild as a peach orchard hog about the many great friends I have been blessed with. In 1971 Carol King wrote a song that won the Grammy Awards both for Best Pop Mail Vocal Performance and Song of the year. Jame Taylor sang the song and Warner Brothers produced it on a little seven inch vinyl. Remember those??? The song ,"You've Got a Friend", has been popular throughout the ages with lyrics like "when your down and troubled and you need a helping hand." I just want my friends to know that in this new year of ours that no matter what, no matter where, "You've Got a Friend!!!"

HAPPY NEW YEAR MY FRIENDS!

DIZZY

2010-12-22T14:10:00.003-06:00

It all begins on December one, when Geek Son and The Latin Lovin' Hillbilly celebrate their weddin' anniversary. My dear Mother~in~Love celebrated her eighty~third birthday on the third of this month. The youngest Brother Outlaw had his birthday on the eighth which was also my In~Laws anniversary. Dear eldest grandson, The Cool Dude, turned sixteen on the tenth. My sweet Daughter-in-Orneriness , yep...that would be the Latin Lovin' Hillbilly, lit her cake ablaze on the fourteenth and Geek son blew out thirty-six candles on the eighteenth but young Tex, man of many faces and cute as a box full of six week old puppies, celebrated eleven years of bringin' sunshine into our lives on the twelfth of this very full and dizzy December.

This is Joel who climbs walls with the greatest of ease. Boy mechanic, who can build anything he sets his mind to. No medium is safe within this one's reach. From boards to boxes the adventurous lad always has something goin' on up his sleeve. It is a joy to see him growin' into a fine young man of God. Livin' up to his name Joel, which is Hebrew, "Yo'el"~meaning Yahweh is God and Michael, also Hebrew ,"M'Kah'el"~meaning who is like God, truly loves the Lord with all his heart. Now, this is the kinda stuff that make's this Grandma Muzzie's heart sing.

Now, ya'll don't let the face of this astoundin' mad scientist scare the bejeebers outta ya. Yes, he does have a flashin' lit thingamabob in his mouth. Doesn't he look wilder than a mule chewin' a mouthful of bumblebees? Joel's experiments could give Victor Frankenstein, Doctor Phox (Star Trek Enterprise) or even Doctor Bunsen Honeydew (The Muppet Show) a run for their Bunsen burners. Ya'll know every great mad scientist needs a yummy birthday cake with a beaker full of bubblin' magic potion and scientific equations on it, Right???

Well, this chick's been runnin' 'round in circles busier than a funeral home fan in the middle of August celebratin' family and then we have Christmas. When daughter, Social Butterfly and her betrothed were tryin' to set a weddin' date she told her darlin' dashin' fiance, " Mama won't allow anyone else to get married or birth a baby in December." They married in January. Ya'll know what happens if Mama ain't happy! Just sayin'.........

In 1969 Tommy Roe sang it best on his 7" vinyl from ABC records with his Pop worldwide single hit which contained a whoppin' eleven key changes, "Dizzy". I've been runnin' 'round in circles as busy as a one legged man in a kickin' contest feelin' like Goofy in the video below...DIZZY!!

God bless each and everyone of ya'll. Have a Merry Christmas and a most prosperous New Year!!!

LOVE POTION NO. 9 (Not Wednesday or Wordless)

2010-12-09T12:48:00.002-06:00

Ya'll don't have to have a personal acquaintance with Madam Ruth, know anybody with a gold~capped tooth or have kissed a cop down on 34th and Vine to want a long tall drink of this sweet little potion. This picture was taken several months ago when Ian was tryin' to get a sip of his Grandpa's tea. Oh bestow my heart this one has me in a love trance. Poor little fella's lapper just isn't quite long enough! Heeehehehe!!!

This is one Ozark Farm Chick who has been wound tighter than the girdle of a preachers wife at an all you can eat pancake breakfast just tryin' to get-'er-done. Between the Ponderosa, shoppin', programs, fudge, decorating, gift~wrappin' and a Mother~In~Love who is havin' a heap of problems I can't decide if I've found my rope or lost my horse...little lone have the time I desire to write a readable post.

In 1959 then again in 1971 the d00~wop group, The Clovers, sang from 125th Street, Harlem, of a drink concocted to make you so smitten ya didn't have the brains of a stunted swamp chigger. "Love Potion No. 9" was the song. I become just that brain dead around my grandkiddos. I'm so completely lost in their love my heart almost bursts. This season when we are meeting ourselves comin' and goin' let us remember the reason for the season. Let us drink in the greatest love potion ever gifted to mankind and bask in the glorious love of Jesus. There is just no greater love ever experienced, not even... "Love Potion No. 9!!!

God bless ya'll and enjoy the "Love" of the season.

BREATHLESS

2010-11-22T15:57:00.003-06:00

Look up in the wild blue yonder. It's a big old turkey vulture. It's a seven forty seven. Nope, it's Super Nezzy! Faster than a mad speedin' cantankerous bull. More powerful than a cornered ticked off mama cow. Able to leap tall corral panels in a single bound. This mere mortal Ozark Farm Chick commonly known as Nezzy is now a woman of steel eatin' only a small bowl of Quaker Oatmeal and a slice of whole grain cinnamon toast instead of carryin' Krypotonite.

Mornings begin early here on the Ponderosa and this one was no different. We were gonna load out cattle prior to Hubby goin' to work. Breakfast was finished, Hubs four star lunch was packed and his water thermos filled with cool sparkling iced well water. It was six O'clock AM and dark as burnt toast! I notice the love of my life puttin' on his camouflaged manure stompers and asked what the heck he was doin'. "Off to herd those cattle and separate 'em to load the cattle trailers" was his nonchalant answer. I commenced to tell my man that I'd be as much help as Blind Bartimaeus blindfolded in a lunar eclipse bein' night blind and all when he handed me a flashlight. Yep, not the big cattle stick I usually carry, not a hot shot but a flashlight! As I have often stated, my favorite sayin' 'round these hills and hollers is, "ya want me to do WHAT???" I had that feelin' way down in my innards that this was not a good idea and in so many ways just wrong but bein' the good helpmate I am I bolted out the backdoor in my yoga leggins covered with some old CK jeans, a cute little tee topped with a Carhartt hoodie, my Nike' manure runners and ladies and gentlemen....my trusty Maglight! I am after all Super Nezzy!

We blindly corralled and penned the critters then began sortin' and cuttin' them out according to sex and size. I was flingin' gates open and stepin' in to turn certain bovines when all the sudden I flung the gate open at Hubby's command and a group charged. I did not have my stick, all I had was my Maglite which did not detour the black furry animal who ran right into me nestling it's head into my chest. Nope it wasn't cooing or sayin', "do ya love me Mama," he just wanted me outta his way....now!!! The Dark Knight pushed his nose just under my ribcage below the Grand Tetons liftin' me up off the ground. Lord have mercy, I thought I'd gone to meet my maker! Still hangin' on to my defense weapon with my left hand, the Maglite, I placed my right hand on the head of another bewildered steer and pushed myself back touchin' my tooties on Mother Earth once again. Gotta love that solid ground!

Baby, I was breathless. Gettin' hit in the chest with a full throttle locomotive will do that to a gal. I leaned up against the corral to locate my lungs , catch my breath and count all my fingers and toes. After we loaded three cattle trailers, I took my achy~breaky body and my useless Maglite back to the house to lick my wounds. As soon I a caught my breath I kinda felt like that rockabilly piano poundin' Louisianian who was the kissin' cousin of Mickey Gilly and Jimmy Swaggart, Jerry Lee Lewis. Singin' his boogie woogie country gospel rhythm and blues songs, Jerry's 1958 single fit my situation perfectly. When I think of the animal I came eye~ball to eye~ball with feelin' the heat of his stinky corn breath and the slime from his slobbers I just wanna sing, "You leave me aaah breathless...ah."

"BREATHLESS!!!"

Daddy's Girl

2010-11-15T14:28:00.006-06:00

He cradled my entire tiny body in his big strong hand as he reached out to greet me. The first words I heard from him was, " Well ,would ya look there??? She's a real farmer..... why, she's already milkin' and spreadin ' manure!!!" This Ozark Farm Chick was the firstborn and the only boy my Daddy would ever have. Mama loved dressin' her perfect precious baby girl satiny dresses piled with poofy layers of ruffles and lace but Daddy clothed me in cowboy outfits and countrified bibbed overalls. He showered me in cap-guns, cowboy boots, cowboy hats and yes, even my own pony. Later on he taught me how to fish amazin' him by casting both left and right handed. Heck, I could even cast upside down which always put a big old smile on his face. This was a man who wasn't big on affectionate hugs, kisses or sweet sappy words but if he liked ya~ you knew it, he would shower you with gifts and look out baby if he loved ya 'cause restraint was not in his vocabulary.

Daddy had a bit of an ornery streak in him that ran through his whole lifetime. As a boy he once told his sister he was gonna buy the little one room High Point School he attended when he grew up and burn it to the ground. Bein' as ornery as a cornered banded bull he in fact, did just that! We had a little old spinster neighbor lady who called late one cold December evening in a panic fearin' that Dad's hayfield was ablaze. As it turned out, it was just the aura of the red Christmas lights that adorned the old well house the prankster decorated in the middle of the big pasture. My best friend and I were chewin' buttons the cold snowy mornin' the jokester decided to try out his new four wheel drive pick up as he drove straight over the steep hill our house rested on instead of takin' the gravel road 'round the hill. Squeals streaked from my children as he chased them around his house snappin' his false teeth in his hands sayin, "I'm gonna bite you!!!" He once took my son to Charlie's Country Store in Filly to get any bottle of soda pop he wanted. Seein' three year old Geek Son 'round the corner with a liter of orange pop as big as he was totally cracked Dad up and of course bought the colossal thing. He initiated my DIL into the family with a WalMart bag filled with the most realistic rubber black snake ya'll have ever seen grinnin' that grin and sayin', " Here, I bought something for ya!"

He's the one who taught me how to saddle and ride a horse and make snow igloos. The one who showed me why you don't shoot a shot gun strait up in the air. Yep folks, he got a big belly laughin' hoot outta that one! He taught me how to drive a car and the control the big tractor after I ran it into the only truck in the wheat field. I received loads of Dad advice like, always carry enough money to get home when ya go out on a date and never look at anything after you've already purchased it. Helpful things like it doesn't cost any more to run a car full than it does empty. How to stand in front of runnin' cattle turnin' them into the workin' pen and even how to jump those corral panels if necessary. He taught me about castration, vaccination and dehorning the wild eyed bovine critters. Even as he walked me down the isle on my weddin' day to marry the man of my dreams ( or as Dad called him, "that long haired hippie guy") he was sayin', "it's not too late my little chicklett....you can still back out. That long haired hippie became the father of his grandchildren, son and treasured confident.

Mom and Dad moved from their Missouri farm in Stockton to Brownsville, Texas where Dad no longer had to feed cattle in the ice and snow. This is where Dad began his long battle with leukemia and many other forms of cancers. Shocking his doctors by surviving impossible odds time and time again, Hubby and I often called him Timex..."takes a lick and keeps on tickin'! He lost this battle the middle of October. He will live on through his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. This little great-grandson dude is Dad incarnate. When Joel was born Hubby called him 'Little Bill' and when he gets that ornery gleam in his eye and grins that familiar grin I can see my Daddy. Dad was a lover of the Grand Ole Opry that I often heard echo from his bedroom on the Saturday nights of my youth. Kinda like Red Sovine who hung out with the likes of Minnie Pearl, Charlie Pride and Hank Williams. Daddy fed on Sovine's truck drivin' hit's like Teddy Bear, Cryin in the Chapel and Lay Down Sally but I long to belt out Red's 1974 hit song 'Daddy's Girl' loud and strong.

You will be missed but this Ozark Farm Chick will forever be 'Daddy's Girl'!!!

LOLLIPOP

2010-11-01T12:35:00.005-05:00

By porin' some sugar in a sauce pan then stirin' in a good portion' of corn syrup, water then enhancing the concoction with a flavoring that will delight your taste buds and bring your brew to a rollin' boil ya'll can have a lip lickin' sweet treat in about twenty minutes. The edible candy on a stick dates back to 1784 where it initially was referred to as soft instead of hard candy. The word 'Lolly Pop' is broken down into 'Lolly' meaning tongue and 'Pop' meaning slap. Today's modern reference dates back to the 1920's where lollipops were rumored to be invented by George Smith who started brewin' these hard candies in his Connecticut home namin' them after his race horse "Lolly Pop". How fast can you get to the center of a Tootsie Roll??? If you would like to try your hand at makin' these candied sticky lickers just click on this 'tacky' recipe. Heeehehehe!

This confectionery sweet darlin' delight just celebrated her fifth birthday on October, 14th. A luscious dessert to our family she is always spreading sweet fondant blessings through her good natured kindness and consideration. Named Sarah Grace,the youngest of four, has lived up to her Hebrew name meanin' princess. Grace originates from the English language simply meaning full of grace. If that one just doesn't crank the rusty tractor so we just call our sweet little bon-bon Gracie.

This Ozark farm chick knew she was gettin' both granddaughters real ballet slippers and leg warmers for their birthdays but durnin' an intense conversation Miss Sarah Grace told this rockin' grandma she wanted a pretty pink Hot Wheels Car...with glitter. My response to Gracie and her siblings was, "Do they make pink Hot Wheels Cars...with glitter???" With 'nos' flyin' from all directions and heads shakin' back and forth like they were watchin' a ping pong tournament, I knew this was not goin' to be as easy as slidin' off a greasy log backward. Well, not wantin' to get caught with my pants down I flew into action buyin' a Lamborghini gold Hot Wheels car, pink paint and clear silver glitter nail polish. That teeny~tiny car got two coats of pink paint for four days in a row then two glitter coats for two days. Yep, I was havin' more fun than a tornado in a trailer park and was as pleased as punch on how the pink sparkly little Lamborghini turned out. The astound look on Sarah's face and the dazzle in her eyes as she pulled the little car out of the bottom of her ballet bag made the effort so worthwhile. Why, Geek Son even said he wanted one so I asked him what color??? He answered, "Pink of course...with glitter!"

Her smile is as warm as the bright sun on a summer day and sweetness is her orb. Just take a look at that face and tell me ya don't want to eat this child up. In 1958 Beverly Ross and Julius Dixon wrote " Sweeter than candy on a stick, huckleberry, chimry or lime" for their single 7" RCA record "Lollipop" sang by a female quartet. In viewin' the video I noticed a familiar face doin' the cheek-poppin' sound for the song. Yep, I was correct..it was a very young Andy Williams. After a little research I found the video was filmed during the Chordette's appearance on the Andy Williams Show. In my mind this song was written for Sarah Grace ' cause each and every time I lay my big browns on her I just want to belt out, " Lollipop lollipop , Oh lolli lolli lolli "Lollipop"................

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

2010-10-23T11:41:00.003-05:00

Cleanliness is next Godliness may not be found in the Good Book but this Ozark farm chick takes this old wives sayin' as bona fied gospel. It is after all it is my favorite day of the week! I sport affection, delight and passion toward Deep Clean Friday. Woohoo!!! I know, I'm obsessively twisted but clean makes me ecstatically blissful, it makes my toes curl. Yep, on Fridays ya can find me vacuum in one hand, toilet brush in the other, happier than a hungry tick on a bloodmobile. Creeks arisin' or wild~eyed stampedin' bovine is not gonna detour this demented chick from spotless mirrors and disinfected faucet screens. The floor glistens, toilet sparkles, furnace filters dustless, carpets fluffy makes everything perfect in my little corner of the world. These are the things that make me happy and ya'll know what happens if Mama ain't happy!

Let me take ya back in time. Just before my body blew out in shingles I received an email tellin' me that I had won this adorable Middleton Collectible Doll doesn't she look like a real livin' breathin' baby?

This precious little bundle of joy came from Oz Girl over at City Gal Moves to Oz Land who is the sweetest little city gal gone country givin' every reader a little old taste of her rural country life. Please, go pay her a visit, ya'll won't be disappointed! I have to tell you when this angelfaced dumplin' arrived I opened the box and just seein' the tiny baby wrapped snugly in plastic... well...I panicked! My endorphins surged while the survival instincts of a mama lion kicked in as I hastily ripped plastic wrap right and left freein' the helpless babe from total suffocation. I gently lifted her out of the box supporting her floppy little head into my warm safe maternal arms. She is weighted and feels just like a live baby and I swear as I move 'round a room.....her eyes follow me! Just sayin............

The next giveaway I won was truly an unexpected surprise. Heck, I didn't even know I entered the darn thing. I just love The Suite life of Lucy and Ethel and am always flappin' my jaw over at their place. Guess I flapped at just the right moment and won a this wonderful novel ,"Not A Fire Exit" written by Christopher M. Finlan. Sweet Lucy also threw in her mama's ( JoAnn Derden)latest beautiful CD, The Story of Noah's Ark. JoAnn's musical interpretations are just amazin' and this is comin' from a chick who knows her tunes! The Suite is all about beating and finding a cure for SMA, Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Helen wrote a book called "The Jeffrey Journey" and how this devastating neuromuscular disease turned her world upside down givin' her precious baby boy his angel wings. Ethel's son , 'Kevin Dude' as I like to call him, just celebrated his birthday and is seventeen years old and is battlein' the effects of SMA. Please go pop over and wish handsome Kevin a happy birthday!!!

Then low and behold right after I returned from Texas I found out that I won a giveaway over at Just Between Me and You where you can meet The Grandmother with the Yellow Hair, Maggie. There you can read about her hilarious antics in law enforcement and if your not real careful you just might run into Mrs. Pearl. Now, if we aren't gonna have a heyday for breakfast 'round the old Ponderosa with all these goodies. Just look at this Pillsbury Grands Mini Biscuit Prize pack, isn't that just the bee's knees??? I have a VIP coupon for free biscuits, a $15.00 gift card for whatever this chick's little heart desires, a delightful biscuit basket, a cow salve (butter) dish and spreader. Just butter my buns and grab me a biscuit 'cause this sure puts me standin' here in high cotton!!!

That's not all folks, if ya order right now....oops...sorry, I got a little carried away. While trippin' to Texas I made an appearance at Grandma's Briefs. Yep, two places at once. I'm talented that way. I was grilled to a buttery golden brown, flipped every so gently and served up on a golden platter. This is a lovely little sight is where we rockin' grandmas can brag and maybe offer a bit of advice on the wonderful world of Grandmas. You can read my grillin' at Grandma Briefs and while your there give that beautiful Lisa a big old shout out. Tell her Nezzy sent ya!

Since I've been busier than a one armed paper hanger with jock itch, I thought I better be takin' care of business combinin' a hodgepodge of posts attempting some sort of catch up 'round here. "Ive been taking care of business every day, taking care of business every way", as goes the song written by Randy Bachman while he was still a member of The Guess Who. The BTO song "Taking Care Of Business" was featured on their 1973 album, Bachman-Turner Overdrive II. "I've been takin' care of business, it's all mine. Takin' Care of business workin' overtime," is how you'll find this spastic chick most days out here smack in the middle of the Missouri Ponderosa.

PRINCESS

2010-10-15T12:32:00.002-05:00

Jezebel was the name his new baby sister would sport. After all, we were all told the anticipated baby girl's name was in the Bible. Her mom and dad primed her older brother to have a suitable answer for those pryin' kinfolk who weren't beyond pumpin' the innocent young lad for info. She was the baby who came to her mother in a dream and was given the name before conception in that very dream. She is a true princess, a notable archduchess and delights us in livin' up to her royalness. She is my Mini-me a true reflection of my young self. The uncanny resemblance is not only in looks but actions, abilities and mannerisms. So much so it sometimes scares the bejeebers out of this Ozark farm chick.

Honor Elizabeth is a continual joy to our family. Her name even glorifies God. Honor meaning integrity and Elizabeth meaning God is my oath. She kept quiet about her salvation for almost a year not wanting to hurt her daddy's feelings 'cause she now had another Father, her second Daddy. The little aristocrat even shared her brand new 'real' ballet slippers with her little sis. Her heart is big and her imagination is massively bigger. "Mama, when will my Kitties hatch?", she asked with her tiny outstretched hand filled with a smooth oval rock her brother had placed there convincing her it was a kitten egg. Her mama tossed the ripe kitty egg into the backyard never to be seen again. That was 'till a white stray Mama cat appeared during an Ozark ice storm delighting our girl that her kitty egg had indeed hatched. The egg not only hatched but the miracle feline gave birth to four fluffy fur balls in their garage that winter. As her mama found the last fuzzy babe a suitable home Honor discovered another kitty egg. Not takin' any chances the 'kitty egg' was sent home with that last kitten.

Honor celebrated her seventh birthday last month. Her party just happened to fall on International Talk Like a Pirate Day. Now, if ya have never heard of this enthusiastically awaited yearly event ya don't know my adventurous Geek Son's family. They all dress up to the last eye patch and parrot. Yep, my grandsons have gone to church wearin' not only pirate garb but eyeliner! Pirate flags fly high on their house during this day and buccaneer signs are hung throughout. They have startled neighbors, delivery men and pets alike. Havin' a party on International Pirate Day kinda' cinches a birthday theme, don't ya think???

Well, that's it in the bag. No wait, that's Honor in the bag as toothless as a hillbilly after his first bar fight. Isn't she simply precious??? Melts you heart doesn't she? "You are my princess, you make me smile~~You make my life seem worthwhile," sang Elton John on his 1982 studio album Jump Up which featured the song "Princess". Honor is a special young lady who loves the Lord with all her heart and is always kind and considerate of others. Just like Elton I can proudly shout and sing I love you Hon, 'cause you are my "Princess"!!!

Private Eyes

2010-09-15T18:32:00.005-05:00

We hide behind our pseudo fictitious names protecting our identity. We live in places called 'Tiny Town' smacked right in the middle of Nowhere, USA to secure our safety in undisclosed locations. We marry men who sport names like Hubby, Stud Muffin, Lumber Jack or Farm Boy. We have children called Geek Son and Social Butterfly and yet the thing we fear most as bloggers can happen. One day your readin' your comments and chills dart up and down your spine when someone gets a little too up close and personal. The anonymous word slinger who knows more than you have disclosed desiring to become more intimate than you ever imagined leaving you as wired as a freshly stretched barbed wire fence. Strange unexplained events begin to happen to both you and your followers.

This was the dilemma word smith blogger Paige McDonald found herself in after receiving such anonymous comments on her blog, "Blogging My Brains Out." Things escalated after attending a BlogHer conference in Chicago discovering that some of her bloggin' buddies had been violently murdered. Escalating the terror-stricken author's life is an ex-husband, a jealous dramatist sister, two daughters and her Mother. Toss in a suspicious detective and the FBI and ya got yourself a plot that would make ya turn all the lights in the house on, pull the covers over your head and cry "Mama!!!"

Teresa Moody has taken our fears and written a daunting novel that will unnerve your safety net next time a comment gets a little too personal leavin' ya'll as scared as the first fatted cow in line at a slaughter house. "Tess" is a person of letters and has thrown together several books since 2003. The latest just happens to be the one I won in her giveaway over at Six Feet Under called " Anonymous."

Tess is a urban Midwest wife, mother of three children plottin' on sendin' her to an early grave, a photographer and writer. Now I know where my "Super Nezzy" cape went! You can find your copy of "Anonymous" today at Amazon.Com. Get your copy, lock the door, grab a blankie and be prepared to sing that 1981 rock and roll~rhythm and blues tune from the sapphire eyed duo Hall and Oates, "Private Eyes." Beware fellow bloggers 'cause "private eyes are watching you, they see your every move!!!"

I SHOT THE SHERIFF

2010-09-03T19:45:00.002-05:00

Not really, although I did shoot the Grandkiddos. Yep, this Ozark farm chick doesn't have the whole clan together very often and was as giddy as a dressed up school girl on prom night receiving the complete cooperation of the whole clan to rip loose and start shootin'. So I grabbed my weapon at hand and commenced pointin' and shootin' yellin' out things like, "say pizza or booger-bite" 'cause I'm goofy like that. Hey, I'll do headstands to bask in the presence of those smiles!

Marian McQuade of West Virginia first suggested the idea of Grandparents Day to honor senior's contributions to our society. In 1973 Jennings Randolph introduced a resolution to Senate to declare the Sunday after Labor Day, National Grandparents Day. It wasn't 'till August 3, 1978 President Jimmy Carter signed the proclamation puttin' Grandparents Day on all our calendars. Like if ya have grandkiddos ya need a special day to go hog wild spoiling 'em.

This rockin' Grandma is as happy as a dead pig in the sunshine to introduce you to the whole coalition. We'll start in the back row with Zacharie who will be sixteen in December and thirteen year old Alexis next to him is holdin' year old Ian who is just jumpin' at the bits to pull Sarah's hair! That deep thinking thirteen year old Ethan is right behind the ten year old jokester, Joel. Sarah will be five next month is just too darn cute for her own britches is standin' beside her big sister Honor, this little princess will celebrate her seventh birthday this month. That last handsome dude is Mr. Jacob who is the big 'one-O' and is makin' like a fencepost to prop up his big bro. Whew, what a tribe!

September twelfth is National Grandparents Day and my heart is burstin' with love and pride. I have eight happy healthy very talented blessings to count. God has blessed me more than I could of ever dreamed. This rockin' Grandma 'Muzzy' can often be heard belting that oldie single Bob Marley and the Wailers made popular waaaaay back in 1973 , "I Shot the Sheriff" but this is one grams who will stick to just shootin' the grandkiddos!!!

PRETTY LITTLE ANGEL EYES

2010-08-26T14:21:00.006-05:00

Angelology is defined as the theological study of angels reflecting the descriptions in the Bible who are often depicted as winged supernatural creatures. The spiritual messengers can be found in the Hebrew Bible, New Testament and the Quran. Their job descriptions include protecting, guiding humans and carrying out God's tasks. A brush with some famous all-star angels might include Malachim, Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Seraphim, Malach HaMavet, HaSatan, Chayot, Hakodesh or Ophanim HaMekavah. My angel encounter involves this bright eyed joy who is in my Sunday School Class and Kid's Church. Born January 11, 1999 this intelligent young tween is the one who always asks to devour my object lessons. What can I say??? The girl loves to eat! She has a deep relationship with the Lord and a broad compassion for others far beyond her years. Angel Dawn has been an irreplaceable helper to me 'round church doin' anything I ask of her without hesitation. She's as country as a baked bean sandwich and loves animals more than anyone this Ozark farm chick has ever met. Ya' can tell by the vast four legged menagerie she keeps around her at all times. This sweet eleven year old lassie is also fightin' the battle of her life!!!!

Angel awoke with a headache so intense that she was unable to attend Sunday services about seven weeks ago. Now this is one little gal who loves, loves, loves Kid's Church. I often begin Kid's Church with, "The best part of my week was....," Angel always answers, "Right now...here!" That night she was taken to the nearest approved hospital who transported her to Barnes in St. Louis where they found a tumor at the base of her brain stem. A successful operation removed the tumor was sadly malignant. Yep, free spirited Angel was diagnosed with cancer. Those old 'C' cells were dividin' rapidly with their uncontrolled fury she was hit with a double barrel of radiation and chemotherapy. The surgery left her right side motor skills compromised and four weeks into treatment Angel had lost twenty pounds and her hair. Isn't she just a livin' doll in her new wig??? Ya'll gotta love that smile! My best friend and I wanted to bless her beyond the prayers we'd been bombardin' the heavens with so we piled in the car and spent a day in the Big City doin' a little Angel shoppin'. Big old Angel tears whelped up in us all as she read her card. I think she was just a little overwhelmed with all her goodies but her concern was for the other children who received no gifts. That's our Angel!!!

This is Long Tall Dave. He happens to be the Ringo Starr drummer of our Tiny Town who promised Miss Angel he would shave his head as slick as a cue ball when she lost her hair. An angel in his own right, Long Tall not only shaved his head, he gave Angel scissors to make the first cuts. Now, if that didn't make her happier than a woodpecker in a lumber yard!!! God bless ya Dave, your a brave man!

We spent a special day in Kid's Church Sunday with our precious Angel just listening to her struggles and prayin' with this young lady of God. When asked to finish the statement, "The best part of my week was.....," she answered, "I only have ten more radiation treatments!" The wisdom of a child will always amaze me. The little cherub stated that she knew there was a reason God was allowing her to go through this battle but she also knew the He was right there with her to fight the fight. Look there...over her shoulder... can ya see Jesus watchin' over her? He has come to her in other ways, like the hospital worker who took time from this day off to take her to the most beautiful flower garden she'd ever seen! The nurse who told her that she had dimples 'cause that's where the angels had kissed her. The unknown stranger in a local restaurant who left the waitress at the register a hundred dollars just for Angel. I covet your prayers for a miracle in this little jewel's young life. Angel has charmed many just as that doo-wop foursome, the Halos, sang in 1961 with those "Pretty Little Angel Eyes!!!"

Our prayers are with you Angel

BEEP! BEEP!

2010-08-16T13:47:00.002-05:00

'God is forgiving' is the Hebrew definition of the name Ian. 'A happy blessing' is the interpretation Bible scholars give the Hebrew name Ashyr. All this Ozark farm chick knows is that I was happier than a gopher on diggin' day when he was born into our family. He makes my heart sing!!! Baby Ian blessed us with his arrival 7/8/2009 and has been a babblin' bright eyed bundle of joy ever since. The little guy celebrated the big number one last month with a grand party filled with cake presents and loads of love.

Of course this rockin' Grandma and Gramps had to get something every one year old needs...his first car! Yep, complete with a key which turns the motor (err-err), a cell phone that rings, a shifter that makes shiftin' sounds, a radio that plays his favorite tunes, a gas hole that glug-glugs and a horn that goes beep, beep, beep! Mr. "Lighting McQueen can be used as a push toy or driven as a car. Now, doesn't that just curl your toes?

This sweet talkin' boy took to this mix between a Corvette and Dodge Viper that has the characteristics of Steve McQueen and the voice of Owen Wilson like a duck to water on a hot summer day. Ian's sweet babblin' jibbers are becoming sweet, sweet words. When eatin', and let me tell ya'll...the kid loves to eat, he'll say "more peese and kank kou." It's just never too early to be polite. The little fella knows who butters his bread and bakes his biscuits. Why, just the other day he told his sweet mama while she was puttin' on her face, "mama pitty!" Learn young, don't they??? Heeehehehehe........

Yep, he's a toddlin' charmer who can down a bowl of strawberry short-cake faster than a bee stung stallion can move to the other side of the horse pen. God blessed us richly when he added this one to his creations and our hearts. He'll be wavin' bye-bye as that old 1958 novelty tune of the Playmates is playin ' on his car radio and you can hear him leaving 'cause his horn goes beep-"BEEP! BEEP!

JIMMY CRACK CORN

2010-08-05T16:39:00.005-05:00

Tall strong bamboo like stalks wavin' their green flag like leaves in the hot summer breeze tossin' back it's shiny pale yellow silks like
a perky cheerleader in a room full of thick-necked football players. The Indians called it maize, English speaking folks call it corn but this Ozark farm chick calls it 'roasteneers'. MMmmm, pass the butter baby!!! Our corn reached as high in the sky as a lovestruck giraffe during mating season. Then the choppin' crew moved in.

Corn is a grass that was domesticated by indigenous Mesoamerica people in prehistoric times. Around 1250 AD the whole dang continent was growin' the golden grain. By the fifteenth century traders and explorers took it back to Europe shoppin' with it just like cash. Ya'll think that would fly at the Tanger Mall in Branson??? Just sayin...........

The many varieties of corn range from Dent to Waxy and if ya'll will allow me to take on the character of Benjamin Buford "BUBBA" Blue from the movie Forrest Gump, I'll tell ya'll some of the multitudes of food we ingest made from corn. Stand back...here goes....there is corn on the cob, sweet corn kernels, cornmeal, cream corn, cornbread, corn porridge, popcorn, corn polenta, corn mash, corn flakes, hominy, corn grits, corn alcohol, corn pudding, corn salsa, corn chips, corn oil, corn starch and corn syrup........whew, I'm breathless and this chick has the lung capacity of a hot air balloon.

Several other uses that are not for human consumption are silage (used to feed livestock), dog and cat food, fish bait, plastics, fabrics, adhesives, herbal supplements and bio-fuels.

America will harvest 332 million metric tons of corn this year. We harvested 671 tons of processed silage packed down and covered in plastic to 'cook'. Makes for some mighty good eatin' for the cattle. It was hotter than tarnation during harvest and this chick cooked for the Strongbacks (crew) and helped hubby cover the swelterin' steaming pile with plastic. Did I ever mention that farmin' is hard work??? Yep, there I was sweatin' like a tall glass of ice tea on a humid day crawlin' up and over dragging massive sheets of plastic beltin out' that old 1840's song that was later recorded by Burl Ives, "JIMMY CRACK CORN!!!"

WHEN I GROW UP (TO BE A MAN)

2010-07-29T11:54:00.004-05:00

He came into the world with his fathers temperament showin' off his exuberant lung capacity for all to be aware that he'd dropped anchor on this earth. He was the baby that we gently stroked, rocked and walked incessantly simply tryin' to discover any magic trick that might soothe the beast within. Even though he could holler louder than a stuck pig, this tiny little squealer had my heart. Yep, this Ozark farm chick was a goner...it was love at first sight.

This little unequivocal clone of his daddy had an imagination that reached to the moon and back and yep, he knew how to use it. He could hold full intensive conversations with invisible beings and build massive complexes with materials only seen by his clever pint-sized peepers. Doctors visits and waiting rooms were never dull or boring. The little fella once crawled through the entire Springfield Zoo on all fours risin' only to tower over smaller animals (and children) to belt forth his humongous grizzly growls.

He's the innocent youngun who crawled into my lap with his pudgy little arms wrapped around my neck and announced quite boldly, "There are no bombs on eBay Grandma Muzzie!" Why, during our last Camp Grandma I gave the boys some fireworks left over from the previous year to 'shoot' some time and this one came inside for a roll of black tape which I delivered immediately 'cause I'm just that kinda Grandma . Then he nonchalantly responded, "unless you have a problem with sparkler bombs." (This request was only done for my reaction...the tape went quickly back to the tool box) Now hold on to your bloomers, the lad can't help it....the pyro gene runs in our family. We never run short on pyrotechnical alpha males during the Forth of July Bash. Besides, we've got to keep some trainin' in the bull pen ya know.....some are gettin' a little long in tooth for such explosive shenanigans. I won't go there, you know who you are!

The Earth and our family was blessed the day Ethan Issac (Ike) arrived. He entered the life of a teenager by reciting both I Corinthians thirteen and Philippians four from memory at his thirteenth birthday party. Soundin' like the boastful rockin' grandma chick I am, he's quite the young gent. Able to speak Latin and takin' first trumpet chair at District Honor Band , Ethan also has his own lawnmowin' business during summer break. Maybe a little OCFD (Obsessive Compulsive Flower Disorder) runs in the family too...Heeehehehe! He is a polite young man of God, a wonderful big brother and a great help to his Mom and Dad. Now, if that doesn't make this chick's heart sing ya'll best call the coroner and check my pulse. This gals proud as punch to burst her buttons as Ethan sings that Beach Boy's hit written by Brian Wilson and released by Capitol Records August 24, 1964 , "When I Grow Up To Be A Man!!!"

Note: No fingers, toes or grandkiddos were injured durin' this blog

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS BILBO.~~~MINOT, NORTH DAKOTA~ (Travelin' Man)

2010-07-16T14:00:00.003-05:00

Wishin' my mammary glands would shrink is something this gal never thought she'd do when she was a young farm chick just commin' into her womanhood. In the midst of my shingle outbreak the Zora trekked from my backbone 'round my side to the tip of my left Grand Teton, Alfred. The blistery mass also made a beeline from my breastbone to Alfred's peek attacking from the other side . Poor Alfred was blown up like a banded bull gone bad and felt like a bowling ball strapped to my chest. Everything has gotten better but I continue to have a belt girdled around me where I'm experiencing posterpetic neuralgia along with swelling that leaves poor Alfred playin' peek-a-boo over my brand new Warners. This is where the docs would prescribe ya anything from antidepressants to morphine. Ya, like this natural woman is gonna do that! The hyperesthea (oversensitivity) and paresthea (pins and needles to numbness) are kinda' entertainin' to play with. I can press on my forehead and feel it beside my nose on my cheek. A spot on me leg when touched sends tingly sensations to my ankle...freaky huh? What a girl won't do for amusement stuck out in the middle of nowhere. I AM takin' it easy... well, as easy as a chick can take it on a busy farm and do so appreciate all the prayers, well wishes, emails and surprises delivered by Larry the Mailman. I am blessed. Do I have the best followers or what?

I am so gonna miss the best little ranch hand I've ever had. Yep, that little Bilbo said he was tired to the bone and packed his little purple bag and travelin' trunk 'cause he's a real travelin' man at heart. He told me he didn't care if he didn't see a tractor, lawnmower or bovine for a very, very long time. He'd had enough of farm livin' and should be landing in Minot, North Dakota today. He'll be spening time with Jessica over at IT'S NOT THAT BAD. I'm bettin' sweet Jessica, her hubby and adorably delightful children will show Bilbo the time of his life. Hopefully he can rest up and recover from gettin' down and dirty here on the Ponderosa.

Right off of Billboard's Hot 100 1961 number one hit singles, I can hear the little garden gnome singin' "I've make a lot of stops all over the world" just like that handsome Ricky Nelson. Yep, from Buckingham Palace to the Ozarks that Bilbo is a tried and true "TRAVELIN' MAN!!!"

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS BILBO? or "IV'E BEEN EVERYWHERE (even Mtn. Grove, Mo.)

2010-06-11T13:44:00.007-05:00

They exploded across my back like fireworks on the Forth of July spreadin' burning embers of blisters that played connect the dots with my body leavin' lunar craters in their wake. More huddled on my chest nestled between the 'twin peaks' Alfred and Drooper. (Don't ask...Hubby named 'em...been that way since the beginning of time.) Like ants on a log they traveled up the back of my neck and into my hair. Others popped up on my face like acne outbreaks of an awkward pubertal french fry eatin' teen who hasn't washed his fourteen year old face with soap in days. Swelling invaded bands around my body leavin' bruises like I'd gone eight rounds in the ring with Danny Lopez. It all started five weeks ago with a nasty virus and a wrenched back that took me down like a two hundred pound lumpy muscled quarterback. By the end of the week I'd shaken the virus and beaten the backache when I was hit with a savage case of shingles. These things have ravaged my body now for four weeks and have just been everywhere. Kinda like Bilbo the little traveling garden Gnome who belongs to the Dirt Princess. I was sure glad to see him and was desperately needing some major help 'round the Ponderosa.

I had promised to instill some well valued work ethics in this smooth operator who had become quite the Casanova playboy. He is a garden gnome and really did need to get back to his roots. The first thing the little Don Jaun did after his arrival was to check out the cottage garden for any saucy little fairies. Then he threw on his sexy shades and grabbed a tall glass of iced tea to lounge out at the bistro set. Well this Ozark farm chick will have none of that! I'm sick and need all the muscle I can get 'round here so I handed him a shovel and he loaded up a wheelbarrow full of mulch. Golly gee, I almost lost Bilbo when he fell in a mole hole in the rose garden. After rescuing him he was on to the next job. The corn field needed a good weed sprayin' so Bilbo hopped on the big blue tractor and went to work. He later climbed to the upper field to feed and count the Soul Sisters, a group of heifers who had never seen the likes of the miniature farmer. Needless to say, little Romeo was plumb tuckered out. Arisin' early the next morning, 'cause that's what we do on the Ponderosa, I put Bilbo on the lawnmower while I kicked back to enjoy the fantastic view. That's when it happened.....total revolt. Tuckered testy Bilbo jumped into the fountain for a cool dip and insisted on real vacation. He even threatened to pack his bags before sunset, saddle up Tiger the Wonder Dog and head out over these hills and hollers.

Just like Johnny Cash sang in 1959 and my singles, Bilbo can sing "I've Been Everywhere" man. If you would like to host Bilbo's vacation please leave a comment tellin' him why you would like him to visit your garden and follow the rules below. We'll throw your name in a flower pot and select Bilbo's next destination then I'll pack his bags and he'll be on his way!!!

RULES

#1) COPY & PASTE these rules into your post on Bilbo if you receive him. The post must be titled WHERE IN THE WORLD IS BILBO: (your city). If everyone copies the rules, then the person you send it to will know what to do. If each post is titled the same, we can keep track of Bilbo and follow him on his adventure. PLEASE do not forget to copy and paste these rules into your post if you receive Bilbo.

#2) In order to participate you MUST leave a comment on the post about Bilbo with the blogger that has him. That blogger will draw names from the people who left comments on that post. Once the winner is selected Bilbo will be on his way to see your garden.

#3) When you receive Bilbo please take a photo (or photos) of him in your garden as well as a photo of yourself with Bilbo.

#4) Rules are linked to http://northmobilegardensociety.blogspot.com/ . Please leave a comment on The Dirt Princess' page so she can keep track of him and let other bloggers know where Bilbo is, and post where bloggers can see his latest travel.

#5) Please try to get Bilbo out the door as quickly as you possibly can. If at all possible please try not to keep him more than 7 days. We want to get him to as many places as we can in 6 months.

#6) Bilbo will travel for 6 months, April 21, 2009- October 21, 2009. If you have Bilbo at the end of this 6 month time frame, you will ship him back to the Dirt Princess at http://northmobilegardensociety.blogspot.com/.
Of course he has passed his expiration LOL!

#7) When Bilbo arrives back with the Dirt Princess, there will be a great post letting everyone know where Bilbo has been, when he visited as well as links to the bloggers posts that had Bilbo.

#8) There will be a list enclosed with Bilbo for each blogger to sign once they receive Bilbo. That list will be sent back to the Dirt Princess.

#9) Should anyone have any questions please contact Dirt Princess at

http://northmobilegardensociety.blogspot.com/.

#10) The blogger that is has possession of Bilbo is responsible for shipping him to the next blogger. Please handle him with care. He is ceramic.

#11) Bilbo may be shipped to countries outside the United States. We want everyone to join in on the fun!

#12) If you would like to throw in a little something with Bilbo to ship the next blogger, please feel free. Add to the excitement. See what Bilbo brings you when he arrives at your door step.

LUCK BE A LADY

2010-05-17T15:18:00.002-05:00

It's not everyday ya get a two-fer in a great giveaway but this Ozark farm chick sure knows how to rub the old magic lantern. Now, even a blind hog finds an acorn every now and then but this lucky rockin' grandma found the whole dang bushel. Sweet Michelle over at ladyswordandtherose gifted me with this charmin' little summer dress. Michelle is a wife and mommy of three beautiful children. She has an enthralling christian blog about a vast array of life's battles. Don't ya know we all have a few of those smackin' us in the face just trying to tatter our joy? Please, go take a gander, I promise she won't let ya'll down. Thank you Michelle, I'm just beamin' with delight and tickled pink over this darlin' little dress!

Her sweet Royal Highness Princess Mary Poppins' in her dress~up weddin' dress just happens to be just the perfect size to step into the cute summer frock this year. Why her ladyship will be the belle of her Sunday School class. When her royal self outgrows it..................

.............the little twinkle toes of this chubby cheeked Royal Princess Toadstool (Mario Brothers), will step right into this fashionable attire and be the best dressed chicklett of any high pitched squeelin' little girls birthday party.

Yep, I'm as high as country air and happy as a puppy in fresh cut grass. I have been blessed. This is one lucky lady who's been running 'round the old Ponderosa all day beltin out Frank Sinatra's 1965 signature song, "Luck be a Lady!!!"

QUE SERA SERA (Whatever Will Be Will Be)

2010-05-05T11:48:00.004-05:00

She can be as delicate as the soft crepe petals on a lovely jeweled Poppy gently swayin' in a soothing breeze or as ferocious as an irritated badger on it's last nerve when it comes to protecting the spawn of her loins. This child-bearer was present at your debut counting all your wiggly chubby pink digits and memorizing every cell of your being. She commands respect simply by walking into a room while indulging and promoting your sometimes ridiculous creativity. This forbearer obtains the capability to make you feel loved despite the most disastrous circumstances. Webster defines a mother as a female parent but this Ozark farm chick knows a mother is so much more!

This song from Alfred Hitchcock's 1956 film "The Man Who Knew Too Much" staring Doris Day and James Stewart becoming sweet Doris' signature tune often filled our home. Mama could be heard singin', "When I was just a little girl I asked my mother, what will I be?" God blessed this chick richly with a special Mom. She cradled and nurtured me when I was ill takin' any pain away with her tender kisses. The woman changed many dirty diapers taggin' me "Stinky Britches!" She would humor me as she sat an extra plate on the table for my imaginary girlfriend and softly smiled when I insisted that she button John's bright red coat. ( Yep, John was a girl, I'm twisted like that!) She is the one that came to my rescue when I had to see if you could really get your toe stuck in the bathtub faucet just like Mary Richards on the Dick Van Dyke Show or the time as a tween I pulled the top drawer from the dresser to smell the sachet I'd placed in my underwear drawer below and got my head stuck. Let me tell ya'll Mama had the patience of a saint 'cause with my curiosity and imagination this little farm chicklett was a handful. She is also the woman who made me want to dig a hole and pull it in behind me never to see the light of day again my Junior year when she innocently walked up behind in front on a group of friends and casually asked, "are you ready to go Stinky Britches???"

"When I have children of my own they ask their mother, what will I be? Will I be handsome, will I be rich? I tell them tenderly...", I can still hear Mom singin' these words. Her face gleamed with joy as she sang to her first grandbaby. Mom was right there to watch over and help ride herd on this little guy. She was the first on the spot to help out when our perfect baby girl was born with an imperfect heart. I was torn between my three year old fella and my sick baby girl who took round the clock care when Mama jumped in to lessen my load. She cheered with a tear in her eye and a song in her heart as both children graduated, married and blessed her with beautiful Great-grandkids. Yep, just as Mama sang, "Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be...the future's not ours, to see..que sera, sera", once again Mama was right.

The picture above is filled with Mothers. Mothers who are bountifully more than just female parents. I see Great-Granny Moon who loved and lived life well over a hundred. I was around ten years old when I was privileged to witness the bonfire of a hundred birthday candles blazin' on her cake. She blew them out herself. My Grandmother Dow who I called "Ma" was just an amazing woman who lost her husband at the age of forty-five and maintained the most positive attitude I've ever known. My own precious Mother who will celebrate her eighty first birthday in August. Me??? Why I'm the skinny little thing with her mouth wide open, no doubt beltin' out a tune just like Doris Day's "Que Sera Sera!"

Thanks Mom....I love you!!! HAPPY MOTHERS DAY

FAITH CAN MOVE A MOUNTAIN

2010-04-19T10:10:00.004-05:00

Taller than one of Granny Walden's elevated folk tales or a lofty as a menopausal giraffe's migraine headache we all have a mountain in our life. It can as gigantic as the Earths tallest Mount Everest which towers 29,029 feet in the Asian Himalaya mountain range or as challenging as the northern frigid Alaska's Mount McKinley reachin' a massive 20,230 feet extending her snow-capped head above the arctic clouds.

Calamities of life load us down like a miner's pack mule on a narrow rocky path with life's mountains. Ya'll know the kind that rock your world and turn your insides wrong side out. The ringing phone in the middle of the night informing you of a loved one who just joined the angel band. The face of a surgeon when he tells you that your tiny precious baby girl will probably not make it through the night or the next operation. The tone in your veterinarian's voice tellin' you that some strange weed is killing off your prized hog herd. Financial disasters that have your heart weighted down like a chubby prisoner in a striped jumpsuit chained to a ball and shackle. Yep, these are just a few of the many mountains that have been tossed this chick's way but let me tell ya baby, there's victory in them there hills and the weapon of choice is called FAITH!

The Bible tells us in the Gospel of Mathew 17:20, "If you have the faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, move from here to there, and it will move." Now, those of us that are gettin' a little long in tooth might even need some spectacles or a giant sized magnifyin' glass to even spot a little old mustard seed so we're not talkin' a whole boatload of faith here. Today I challenge you to use that faith to move the many mountains Satan throws in your life path. I've been absent, missin' in action and lax in bloggin' lately. I have been movin' my own little mountain with a potato diggin' fork, a tall white plastic bucket,a big yellow wheelbarrow and a whole lotta faith. The week has been productive. The corn crop is in the ground, fertilized and all. We loaded out three forty foot gooseneck trailers of cow calf pairs and I made a dent in my big old dump truck load of hardwood mulch that forms my mulch mountain.

Guy Woods wrote song lyrics in 1952 that stated," faith can move mountains darling you will see, I can move mountains if you have faith in me." Forget the wrenching convulsion of the charlie horses in this Ozarks farm chicks girlie gams. Never mind the throbbin' spasms that spur the pulsating tenderness in my fifty seven year old lumbar, my acre of flower beds will be dressed and the trees circled with wonderful weed preventin' mulch. I'm keepin' the faith baby singin' right along with Nat King Cole 'cause "FAITH CAN MOVE MOUNTAINS!!!"

"YOU'VE GOT TO CRAWL (BEFORE YOU WALK)"

2010-04-05T13:13:00.002-05:00

Crawly things can be the "niggets" of unfamiliar spirits that go bump in the blind darkness of night. Other creepy crawly subjects can be made up of things like cantankerous cockroach cooties, slithering slippery slimy snakes, spooky spindly spiders or even the black lace thong on a farm chick's derriere runnin' wild~eyed cattle up and down these hills and hollers but my present favorite crawly thing is my youngest grandson, baby Ian.

During Sunday breakfast a week ago Hubby asked if I'd like to make a trip to Ash Grove after church. Well baby, do frogs eat flies??? Silly boy had to know that question the no-brainer of the century . My answer was," Yep, yes, affirmative, amen most definitely positively I want to go plant my very special noisy grandma kisses on those plump little cheeks. Not lettin' any grass grow under my feet, I started gathering things like a wild woman 'cause it seemed like a coons age since I'd snuggled the little fella up. A lot can change in a month ya know?

After church services and stoppin' in Springfield to split a juicy giant burger at Ruby Tuesday's we headed toward Ash Grove. A girls gotta take nourishment, ya know? Walking into the breezeway there he was in his mama's arms....a smiling bright~eyed bundle of love smackin' the glass in the door with his chubby little digits lettin' grandma know we've been spotted. Ian's two sharp little teeth glimmered through his grins in the sunlight. Oh, it was good to have him back in my arms again with warm cozy snuggles, wide faced smiles and open mouth bird kisses but what was up with Mr. Independent? The kid is on the move showin' off his newest motor skills. Up on all fours the coordination for the full throttle crawl isn't there yet but the little booger can travel doin' the 'worm' faster than a big fat caterpillar bein' chased by a curious hungry cat.

This grandma chick sang, played, kissed, bounced and took pictures gettin' my grandma fix. It was a wonderful day! In 1971 the songwriting team of Holland-Dozier-Holland (HDH) wrote a song sang by 8th Day "You've Got to Crawl (Before You Walk) not long before the group fizzled. This rockin' grandma can be heard belting' out the lyrics loud and clear to baby Ian, "you've got to crawl before you walk back into these arms of mine." Until next time baby.... 'cause "You've Got to Crawl (Before You Walk)!!!

SEALED WITH A KISS

2010-03-26T12:30:00.003-05:00

Abominable Snowmen, Yeti, Forodwaith, Yuki Daruma or just plain old Frosty the Snowmen all melt away like a big old triple scoop bowl of Cappuccino Chocolate Chunk ice cream when the toasty spring weather begins warm the frozen earth. A snowman is an anthropomorphic icy sculpture of a human. The first documented snowman was noted by Bob Eckststine in his book titled "Book of Hours" in 1380. The largest snowman ever recorded was in 2008 in Bethel, Maine who towered a grand twenty~two feet, one inch tall. Heck, these cold hearted fellas even celebrate their own holiday on January 18th known as World Day of Snowmen. I've made no bones about my own abomination towards those tiny frozen lace doilies floatin' from the sky or how I loathe the nuisance of feedin' critters and replenishing the woodpile in it's cold repulsive layers. Ya'll get the picture, I dislike snow intensely finding it most unfriendly but even to my surprise, I collect snowmen. I know.......isn't it a shocker?

Yep, this Ozark farm chick has 'em stashed everywhere. They come out before Christmas and hide in the ivy or hang around the fireplace. My little recipe holder snowman enjoys sittin' on my kitchen cabinet. They hang off doorknobs, hunker down in baskets and snuggle on the sofa in the living room. As much as I despise the snow I love all my little snowmen tucked in every nook and cranny of the Ponderosa's homestead.

Today as ya'll know is deep clean Friday. The day I enjoy chasin' those dust bunnies right out the door. The day germs are destroyed and everything shines brightly. Oh baby I've got the cleanin' bug bad but folks it's also Spring. Time to bring out the fresh garden pillows. Time to open the windows and air out the house. Time for the snowmen to be gathered and packed away safely 'till next year. I found myself singin' (I know that's hard for some of your to imagine...heeehehe!) that old 1960's song of Gary Lewis and the Playboys,"Sealed Withe a Kiss." "Though we gotta say goodbye for the Summer," I,m beltin' out as I pack these well rounded gents away thinkin' maybe just maybe as the last snowman is laid to rest and the box is closed it'll be "Sealed With A Kiss!"

HAPPY SPRING EVERYBODY!!!

PLEASE MR. POSTMAN

2010-03-17T14:26:00.002-05:00

The word blessing is defined as something promoting or contributing to happiness, well-being, or prosperity. The subject of blessings is incorporated extensively in the Bible. There are three Greek words utilized to translate the word "blessing", a verb, a noun and and an adjective. They each mean "praised," "to call on Gods power" and "fine speaking" sequentially. This farm chick finds blessings come in all sizes and just as many forms. I feel blessed to awaken to the smile on Hubby's face when the sun arises in our Ozark holler beaming over the treetops toppin' the hill. My heart flutters watchin' the bluebirds busily furnishing their nests to raise their broods. Butterflies and flowers excite me and hummingbirds astound my very soul. I find joyous blessings waltzing with the granddaughters and doin' the Irish jig with my grandson. Yep, I did! I am continually blessed with the sweet comforting voice of a good friend but other day I found a blessing in my mailbox of all places!

I received a surprise package from Teresa@Grammy Girlfriend that has heaped my days full of blessings. Just look at all this loot! I'm tellin' ya'll this was like blessings raining from heaven filled with three wonderful CD's. Sheila Walsh's ,"All That Really Matters" worship, Sand Patty's, "Hymns of Faith Songs of Inspiration" and Women of faith, "Extraordinary Faith." Now if that don't make your skirt fly up, nothin' will! I have enjoyed this music so much while working 'round the Ponderosa. I do love beltin' out a good tune!!! I received a beautiful bookmark with scripture that can also be used on a key-chain to hide God's word in you purse. Heeeheehe! But that's not all folks....wait....cards, beautiful cards, just look at 'em! Have ya ever seen anything any cuter? She must of know how much I love to send cards of encouragement. Teresa is on a one woman campaign to revive sendin' snail mail cards to bless those you love.

Teresa is a God lovin' wife of her "one of a kind" hubby, Mama to two gorgeous children and Grammy to Parker, Austin, Jack and Grayson. She loves football, movies and is all about family. She is a colossal Disney fan. I think she's a bit smitten on that Mickey. She also has her Christmas blog, "A Baby Changes Everything, where you can always get the Christmas Countdown and enjoy the song the blog is named after. This Christian sister is on a card givin' giveaway frenzy. I tell ya'll the woman has gone plumb wild! Really visit her blog and enter her card giveaways so you to can be a blessing too. Go....visit....sit down and stay a spell at her beautiful blog but while you there leave her a comment for a chance to win some cards so you too can be a blessing just spreadin' the love. Why before you know it ya'll be singin' The Marvelettes 1961 single hit song askin',"C'mon deliver the letter, the sooner the better", "Please Mr. Postman???

SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW

2010-03-08T14:27:00.003-06:00

Life is a characteristic differentiating between something that has a self-sustaining biological process from those that don't. Biology defines "life" as the state distinguishing inorganic matter from active living growing organisms. This Ozarks farm chick firmly believes that life begins at conception. Be it attained in the heated throws of passion between two moon eyed lovers or the plannin' and breeding of livestock, I believe that life begins the moment the egg and sperm unite and the microscopic cell divides. A youngster raised on a farm never has to question life or how it begins. It is all second nature to them when they hear daddy talkin' about turnnin' the bulls into the cow pasture. Our little punks got to experience the miracle of birth as soon as they could toddle around under our barn boots watchin' mama pig, cow or donkey bring a new baby animal to the Ponderosa. Another subject completing the circle of life that country young'ens learn to accept is....death.

Exactly one week after Dead Dorothy went down she finally succumbed to pneumonia. Hubby and I had high hopes working diligently to save this poor depleted animal. Dorothy did not have to overcome the Wicked Witch of the West but starvation put her in the unstable shape she was in. The sky did not fill with Flyin' Monkeys but she was unable to take nourishment on her own, so we drenched her with needed nutrients twice a day. Winkie Soldiers did not try to keep her captive but immobility took it's toll on her already weakened body. Hubby would put her in a harness standin' her up with the front loader of the tractor for short periods of time prodding her to put weight on her frail legs that couldn't hold her 355 pound body up more than a few seconds at a time. A deadly field of poppies did not put her into a comatose sleep but fluid started filling her lungs. This could of been treatable if the wheezin' bovine was mobile but sadly she was not.

We had little sparks and glimmers of 'Kansas' that gave us encouragement. One morn' Dorothy put up a bit of a fight struggling against the drench bottle. Fight in an animal means it still has spirit and at least a modest amount of strength. She began drinking a little water and eatin' the tiniest bit of feed by mouth! Woohoo, I danced... Ya'll know it doesn't take much! Then she began to rattle just a bit and we knew she would be sayin' goodbye to that yellow brick road. She would never see Kansas or a sale barn again. Friday evening Dorothy gave up the fight and entered that big old Emerald City in the sky. This chick will just have to rest in the fact knowing that we did everything in our power and Dorothy finally made it home "Somewhere Over The Rainbow!!!"

WE'RE OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD!

2010-03-01T16:20:00.003-06:00

Meet Dead Dorothy. She arrived on the Ponderosa last week malnourished half starved to death. Her mange ridden coat lacks the luster and thickness of a critter prone to holdin' it's head in a feed bag. She is what we call here in the Ozarks a Swamp Rat. No disrespect to all you lovely wonderful southern ladies I love so much. A Swamp Rat is an animal who has been trucked into our area from states like Louisiana and Mississippi to be auctioned at a local sale barns. Dead Dorthy is suffering from starvation, stress and shipping fever. Movin' cattle from warmer states to cooler states works well in the summer but in the winter months...not so much. "Oh baby, I got 'em cheap," are the words I hear flyin' from proud Hubby's lips.

Hubby is accumulating a band of small cattle to feed out for market. He has enlisted the help of a wing man, The Ring~Master who owns a sale barn. A paper thin emaciated cow and her puny skinny calf were ran into the ring to sell and Hubby bought the pair for a mere $265.oo. What a bargain even though I constantly remind this burnin' hunk of love it's only a bargain if they live. The calf was really too old to be on it's bony mama but I'm thinkin' the ring~master threw it in 'cause he didn't want to get stuck draggin' the deceased critter off. Now if ya have ever been to a sale barn ya know it's an exclusive men's club in it's own rite. These guys have their own verbal language only those who belong to the club understand and a sign language they have no problem nodding and answering 'yep' to. In one of these exchanges Hubby understood that this cow~calf pair was part of a divorce that neither party wanted to feed. The cattle trailer arrived at the Ponderosa unloading the cattle purchased that day and the cow was put in the cow pasture and Dead Dorothy was to flourish in the weanin' pen. Yep, the man always has a plan. He's just that kinda' guy.

The first morning that I went up to water the clan at the weanin' pen where poor Dorothy had her heavy head hanging six inches off the ground. Nope, this is never a good sign in cattle. Ya'll want their heads high and ears up. The next morning this farm chick spotted Dorothy layin' flat on her side with her Twiggy legs stickin straight out like road kill. Her sides were not goin' up and down nor was her tail twitchin'. I hollored as I was banging on the metal panels and saw no movement. The other calves walked over and nudged her poor famished body gettin' no response. Now granted I didn't climb over the corral and poke, prod or nudge her but she was lyin' there lifeless as a virgin on a blind date. I'm a farm gal ~I know dead when I see it! First I called time of death then I called Hubby to announce Dorothy had passed.

Saturday morn' Hubby trots into the house singin'," she lives, she was probably sleeping soundly." Now folks, this calf was more than napping, it had to be in some kind of deep comma trance 'cause there was no sign of breath or a blessed miracle dropped from above and revived her. She was call a code and page Dr. McDreamy gone. Dead Dorothy is unable to eat normally so we are 'drenching' her. We take a contraption with a long tube and fill it with milk replacer and squeeze it down her gullet. Much like a NG tube in a human. She has not stood on her own four legs in a few days. Tonight when Hubby gets home he will take the tractor and lift her onto her legs with the front loader. This could be a Kodak moment except it will be dark and I'd only have the light of the moon and the light of a tractor so it could all be a little too scary to show. Thankfully Dead Dorothy's mama is doin' much better than she is.

I almost fainted when I saw the small vaccine bottle of Draxxin costing $355.oo or the Micotil at $150.00. The small $25.00 bag of milk relpacer was nothin' compared to that. There is an abundance of time and a mint put into a sick animal. Most farmers would just give up the ghost and put the poor animal down but Hubby is a wizard when it comes to doctoring cattle. Both Dorthy and Hubby believe that if she clicks her hooves together three times and recites ,"there's no place like the Ponderosa," Dead Dorothy will be granted a full and happy life runnin' up and down these Ozarks hills and hollers singing, "We're Off To See The Wizard!!!"

CLIMB EV'RY MOUNTAIN

2010-02-19T06:30:00.003-06:00

Here we go...it's Deep Clean Friday! This Ozark farm chicks favorite day of the week. It's been awhile since I posted a Deep Clean Friday and I didn't want ya'll to think I'd fallen plumb off the wagon and stopped cleanin' the old Ponderosa homestead. Nope, no living in filth here 'cause I'm Nezzy and I take cleaning eminently serious. The dishwasher's swooshing, washer's gyrating, tub jets whirling and the dryer is tumbling a big batch a dungarees . Anyone dizzy? All nick~knacks are dustless and the carpets vacuumed. The mud room floor is as shinny as a new lustrous copper penny. The dust-bunnies are washed from the furnace filters and those nasty little germy faucet screens are disinfected. Go ahead, turn me into Cleaners Anonymous, schedule me for meetin's and assign me a sponsor but I can't help myself. Cleaning is like my chocolate, it relaxes me, soothes me and makes me happy. We all know what happen if mama ain't happy!

Now let me take ya'll back a few weeks. The week the temperatures barely rose above zero. The week we had the dreaded Ozark's ice and nine inches of snow layin' on top of it. The week we had scheduled to take the Young Guns to market. The Young Guns were gettin' huge and the market was good. The plan was that we would load them on our twenty foot gooseneck trailer hauling them the the Teeny Town Sale Barn to be loaded on a big double-decker pot going to a larger sale barn south of us. This would take three trips with the long necked trailer to accomplish this endeavor 'cause these Fat Alberts were large in number and ahhhhum, a little chubby.

We started a little after seven that morning with the thermometer also sittin' on a whoppin' seven degrees. I had on my yoga leggins, jeans over the leggins, two pair of socks, at tee, a sweatshirt, a stocking hat, a Carhartt hoodie, Carhartt coveralls, gloves inside gloves and my barn boots. Ya'll worried about my undies? Didn't ya know underwear is optional here in the Ozarks? I was set for the task before me except it was still dark as oil on a tire and the cattle were black. Oh, did I mention I'm night blind? Looking like the Michelin Man blindly maneuvering the snow like a blundering klutz, I was a willing help-meet who was ready for action 'cause I had my big old yellow cattle stick in hand. Taking all factors into consideration Hubby and I penned and separated the cattle without the usual mishaps. Woohoo!!! Soon the first load was off and I was back in the house huggin' my warm fireplace.

Less than an hour later, Hubby was back loadin' the second batch of big boys also without calamity. Yippee!!! This was reason to open the freezer to pull out the leftover Christmas fudge and celebrate 'cause things rarely go as planned here on the Ponderosa. Then ten minutes later it happened with the ring of the telephone. I could hear,"..I.... nee...bring...ep.....and...ug....ak." Cell Phones!!! Ten minutes later the phone rings again after Hubby hiked to a house and begged the use a land line, "I need you to bring some ashes, I'm really stuck on top of a hill." Well, I had just cleaned the fireplace and I wasn't about to put blazin' red hot embers in my car. After pondering a suitable substitute for ashes, I grabbed up some Quickrite dry cement along with a couple bags of ice cream salt and headed out patting myself on the back for my resourcefulness. Instead of taking the blacktop roads that were brined and bladed Hubs took the narrow hilly cow trail country road because it was half as far drivin' the back way as it was to take the highway. I set forth to find Hubby discovering the glossy road was as slick as cow snot. Carefully maneuvering skinny twisted ice packed road, I finally reached 'the hill' immediately turning around to go back to the Ponderosa to retrieve a pick. I so wish I had grabbed my camera to capture the discombobulation that Hubby, his truck, gooseneck and Young Guns were in.

The big brown four wheel drive farm truck had slid wedging its helpless self against a mammoth gigantic tree. Good thing 'cause if it hadn't all would have descended and plummeted over the ledge and down the tall bluff. The gooseneck carrying the cattle had jackknifed just a bit completely blockin' the road. Hubby chipped the ice with the trusty pick, spread the dry cement around the buried tires and began to gun the vehicle's motor smokin' the spinnin' tires and shifting the cattle trailer toward the polar ledge with no avail. I could just see the Young Guns plunging to their death at the bottom of the ravine and there goes our bread and butter baby! Hubby get's out of the truck sayin', " I guess we need to go get a tractor." Well this farm chick knows what that means. My favorite sayin' around the Ponderosa is, "ya want me to do WHAT???" It means this chick is on massive farm equipment she's not confident operating pulling a 3/4 ton flatbed and twenty foot cattle trailer stuffed with obese bovine on an icy Ozark cliff. I could not see this ending well by any stretch of my very vivid imagination. This is when I heard Hubby softly said,"or call Big D." "Yes, Yes, oh please call Big D", I squealed like a cheerleader with new pom~poms. Big D drives an enormous bright-red wrecker that had pulleys, chains and all the bells and whistles for such predicaments. Man help, filled with muscles oozing testosterone and burly man spit. That's just what this job required.

Big D came to the rescue securing the liberating wrecker to the side of the mountain above winching the cattle train up and over the icy hill to the blessed blacktop road. The second load of Young Guns traveled safely to the waiting semi pot at Teeny Town Sale Barn but it was too late for the third load to make the journey. They would have to wait to make the run to market the following week. Just like the title of the 1959 Rogers and Hammerstein's show-tune song, this Ozarks farm chick was sooooo delighted she did not have to mount that big old blue tractor and help that cattle train "Climb Ev'ry Mountain!!!

UP ON THE ROOF

2010-02-10T16:01:00.007-06:00

It was one of those sticky sultry sweltering Ozarks ninety~ eight degree summer days. Ya, know the kind that makes the most proper woman break into a sweat just liftin' a tall glass of cold iced tea to her luscious lips. Mom was visiting, our children were young and the forecast was muggily humid but clear. A perfect day for Mom to entertain the kids while Hubby and I stripped the roof down to its bare necked bones to re-shingle our leaking addition. We had the tar paper, shingles and roofin' nails at hand. I was dressed in shorts, a cute little tee, ponytail and tennis shoes ready for the task with hammer in hand. Hubby and I play well together and we had the old roofing off in no time when out of nowhere like a sonic boom came the loudest clap a thunder this Ozarks farm chicks ears have ever heard. Yep folks, a thunderstorm was movin' in faster than a cheetah chasing a frightened deer. The sky opened up with a cloudburst creating a deluge upon our roof. There was an abundance of white lightning streakin' through the sky over our heads. No, not moonshine but firebolts of lightning discharging atmospheric energy with their vivid flashes. Busier than a couple stumped tailed cows swattin' flies Hubby and I tried to hammer down a barrier when we heard Mama holler like a stuck hog, "It's leaking in the house...BAD!" We desperately needed our shingles. Today I want to talk about another kind of shingles.

Shingles also known as Herpes Zoster is the same virus as chickenpox. The United States reports one million cases of this painful prickly rash a year. If you have ever had the poultrypox you are susceptible to gettin' shingles sometime your lifetime. The virus lives in the nerve roots just waiting like a cat to pounce on a mouse for your immune system to be compromised. It has many long term complications and once you have shingles they are never really gone. They wait patiently in the nerve line until you get sick, lack sleep, get stressed or all of the above and emerge like army of gnawing fire ants runnin' under your skin. This is a subject I have had years of experience with.

What I did not tell ya'll is that when I left for Texas after the big Thanksgiving Dinner , the trip that included the Red Tide, frigid temperatures, windy cold rain and parental duties, that climbing into the car to travel the long 1145 miles I was attacked with shingles. One of the first signs of the agonizing booger is " itchin' like a man on a fuzzy tree" and Elvis is not in the building. I have a natural cure for this nasty condition found in the Prescription for Nutritional Healing Guide. It's cured people who have been under doctors care and hospitalized without results. This chicks kinda like Karl Malden in those old American Express Travelers Checks commercials and I "don't leave home without them." I always mix some up and take it with me just in case.

You mix one tablespoon of sweet almond oil as a carrier then add 4-5 drops of eucalyptus oil and 4-5 drops of lemon oil to it. You use the sweet almond oil to cut the other oil because they can burn you skin if used in full strength. Apply the mixture directly to the lesions at the first sign of and outbreak several times a day. In most instances, the lesions dry up and disappear completely within five days after starting this treatment. When you first start using it you'll think it's not doin' anything then it just starts drying up like grapes in the sun. You can use a cortisone cream between applications to keep ya'll from itchin' like a hound dog with fleas. I just wanted to share this with ya'll so if ya ever get caught with the shingles you won't be like a wounded squirrel in pain, sang by the drifters in 1962, "Up On The Roof!!! "

BUSTED!!! (part two of Money!Money!Money!)

2010-02-03T09:41:00.003-06:00

"Lettin' the cat out of the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin' it back in," was a sayin' heard frequently from my Pappy Walden's soft spoken voice. "Well I am no thief, but a man can go wrong when he's busted," was what Nashville Songwriter Harlan Howard wrote in 1962 for Johnny Cash but the song "Busted" wasn't a smash hit 'till Ray Charles sang the soul version in 1963. Yep, that Charles was known for havin' a lot of fun with his songs and sang it from the prospective of a dirt poor farmer who could really use a government bailout. The floundering farmer couldn't borrow any cash 'cause everyone else was busted too! Sound familiar??? This song might have had a whole different meaning if Granny Walden had a hold of it. Ya'll did not want to be the one to fall in the wrath of my Granny Walden. Everyone in the county knew who ruled that roost and poor Uncle Wilbert was about to be busted as Dolly Parton.

When we pulled in the drive from our Albuquerque trip Mama saw her beautifully open back porch completely encased by lush gourd vines, the woman went off like a cannon during the Civil War. Well, poor Daddy thought he had done a good deed by stringing the invasive seedlings up and keeping them alive all summer. The Battle of You Did~~Who Did was on as we pushed our way with suitcases in tow through the dense green forage into the house. That's when this prosperous independent little farm chicklet had the let that wild kitty out of the bag and divulge my plans of attaining the affluent life of a three year old and how it came to be. I can remember Mama and Daddy shoutin' in unison, "you Uncle Wilbert told you WHAT???" I knew right then and there my bachelor uncle was as busted as a can of biscuits whacked hard against a sharp edged counter and my little heart sank as faster then a horseshoe tossed in a pond.

I had dreams of that new toy Singer sewing machine or a Mickey Mouse doll. I was quite smitten with that Annette never missin' an episode of the Mickey Mouse Club. Maybe I'd buy a bunch of socks so Mama could make sock monkeys for all my friends. My plans for adding some new red vinyl 45's to spin on the old turn table went out the window along with keepin' Mama in those Toni Home wave kits so I could have the curls of Shirley Temple she wished upon my board straight hair. Yes, the dreams of endless cream soda and nickel chocolate bars were no longer in my grasp......so I thought.

Swanked by my Granny Walden and trapped as a southern gal in a six~tier skirt, Uncle Wilbert was ordered to purchase my gourd harvest at the market price of five cents apiece. Nobody ever argued when the verdict came down from Granny. All's well that ends well. It was a rich harvest, rich as the black soil that propagated the seeds planted by my young enterprising fingers. This little Ozark chicklet laughed and danced on the porch that crisp autumn day as my cash crop was harvested and purchased by my Uncle Wilbert who was just soooo "Busted!!!"

(PUT ANOTHER NICKEL IN) MUSIC! MUSIC! MUSIC!

2010-01-26T14:23:00.004-06:00

Gourd is the name given to the hollowed arid covering of the fruit in the Cururbitaceae family. This native curious looking African plant may just be the oldest plant domesticated by two legged mortals. The uniquely peculiar pumpkins were said to be the inspiration for the shape of current contemporary clay pottery. Ha, say that quickly three times! The dried fruit can be used for bowls, bottles and instruments both stringed and drums that are typically found in the Caribbean. Birdhouse gourds can be seen scattered all over the USA accommodating the lodging requirements of the royal Purple Martins. To this young Ozarks farm chicklett a nice crop of gourds only meant money in the bank!

My Granny and Pappy's farm was a short distance from ours so I spent many hours there. Being a most inquisitive child, Mama would frequently say if I asked just one more question she'd go completely nuts and be put in a straitjacket. Soon after such statements I'd be carted off to spend some 'quality' time with Granny Walden. One of my daddy's twin brothers was a bona~fide eternal bachelor who lived in the old farmhouse with my grandparents. Uncle Wilford was the more serious family man and Uncle Wilbert was the joke lovin' prankster of the two. They looked enough alike that I often said I had two Uncle Wilberts 'cause they'd have this perplexed three year old mixed up more than a movin' truckload of cement.

Toward the end of growin' season I was admiring the wonderful shapes and colors of Granny's gourds reaching up toward the heavens clinging to her white picket trellis. That's when Uncle Wilbert approached this gullible juvenile gal announcing that, "ya know,them gourds grow money inside 'em." Even though I always was and am an easy mark, I AM from the Show~Me~State and I desired, requested and demanded proof stomping my tiny feet and jumpin' up and down with excitement of a pirate who has just found a treasure. Uncle Wilbert slowly pulled out his trusty pocket knife that castrated calves, scraped manure from his boots then used to split a candy bar and gently carved the gourd in his hand revealing a bright shinny nickel. Ahhh, there is was shinnin' in the sun! I felt the spark in my big browns, my heart pounded with excitement as I developed my plan. Granny thought nothin' about my questions concerning harvesting and preparing gourd seeds or even the inquisition of planting the dried embryos. Heck, the woman was a saint and even helped me harvest and dry the seeds at her house. This just may have been the beginning of my OCFD (Obsessive Compulsive Flower Disorder).

Spring had arrived and I carefully planted my cash crop around the foundation of our large back porch using my trusty blue plastic shovel. Mama thought nothin' of my enterprising bustle as I was always diggin' in something. Later that spring Mama and I boarded the Santa Fe Red-nose train for our annual trip to visit my maternal grandmother in Albuquerque for several weeks. I can still vividly remember that astounded flabbergasted look on Mama' face upon our arrival home. The home we could barely enter due to the vines that were carefully strung up and secured to the porch roof by Daddy who was under the impression Mama must of planted 'em. The vines that were goin' to supply this youngen' with enough nickels to fulfill any farm chicklet's dreams. Fort Knox eat your heart out! I'd never need to ask Daddy for a nickel to buy a candy bar or bottle of cream soda again. Mama would not be bothered by my request for more change for the nickelodeon (early jukebox) to feed my love of a good song. Yes, this self sufficient industrious child could pick the number one hit song in 1955 and sing along with Teresa Brewer, "put another nickel in, in the nickelodeon, all I want is lovin' you and music, music, music!!!"

KNOCK THREE TIMES

2010-01-19T12:20:00.005-06:00

Mario, sometimes referred to as Jumpman, is an Italian Plumber who lives in a Mushroom Kingdom battling Bowser who has captured the royal Princess Peach. While the Mario Brothers are investigating the perplexing sewers of New York dodging varmints like the Koopa Troopas they run on, jump over and slide through smelly slimy sewer pipe to rescue the fair maiden from the hands of the evil vixen. Oh, how much easier this task would of been if only they had learned to climb like a Capuchin monkey!

Born without a prehensile tail this little fella would have been a great cast for the movie Cliffhanger or Mission Impossible II. He's the one needs no harness or rope to climb straight up a wall like a long legged arachnid. Ya'll know that commercial where the parents lose the boy and he's spread out on the ceiling of their hallway as they look up and say, "we have a climber?" That's our boy! He once scaled from his bedroom at the far end of the house to the living room at the other without touching the floor strategically maneuvering corners and doors like a skilled mountain climber landing on target in my lap. The lad can shinny up a tree faster than a 'coon with a Redbone Coonhound hot on it's trail. He'd give an orangutan a run for it's money. While visiting Texas my sis was in charge of the children as she was taking a head count,"1...2...3...oops, I'm missing one." I giggled as she was tellin' her story and said, "I bet it was Joel, if ya lose Joel all ya have to do is look up." Sure enough the little repeller was up high in a tree givin' my sis a heart attack!

Joel, Hebrew Yo'el~~"Yahwel is El," is interpreted as Jehovah is God. Michael is a given name that comes from the Hebrew Mikael meaning who is like God. Joel Michael celebrated the big '1-0' in December. He has been a shining light to our family. The kids got personality! Not only can he climb but he could challenge Bob the Builder using his creative construction skills. The tenderhearted dude loves the Lord and the life he is full of. He is a master at the game of chess and is also a little prankster. This rockin' grandma is putty in his hands and he holds my heart. To most of my grandkiddos I would say, "just call me if you need me," but not to Mr. Joel. I would use the phrase out of the 1970 hit song of Tony Orlando and Dawn and say, "knock three times on the ceiling if you want me!!!"

JUST AN OLD FASHION LOVE SONG

2010-01-11T09:21:00.005-06:00

It was a time of raging turmoil and yet a time of unclouded innocence. Young men were being summoned from their familiar surroundings to fight a bloody conflict (war) in Vietnam. The bells rang out as the Dow closed above a thousand for the very first time. Even though cars were lining up at the pumps and the oil crises had made OAPEC a household word, we could still fill up the 1965 Pontiac GTO for .385 cents a gallon. Tony Orlando and Dawn were tying a Yellow Ribbon 'round the Old Oak Tree while Elvis performed his final farewell concert in Hawaii. Sherman Hemsley made his first appearance on All In the Family just a movin' on up and Police Story made its television debut. The Miami Dolphins had finished a perfect 17-0 winning the Superbowl. A kitchen could be well stocked for under ten dollars a week purchasing apples for 59 cents a pound, Ajax cleaner for 15 cents, four rolls of toilet tissue for 13 cents and ground round for 79 cents a pound. This sheltered Ozarks farm chick had packed her bags two years before leaving Tinytown behind to go to college and find herself. One warm October evening I went on my first and last blind date. It felt like I had been hit in the gut by the helmet of NFL's star quarterback runnin' full force with the ball as I walked down the stairs of the Phi Mu Sorority house. Hold me back mama~~somebody grab the paddles and shock me 'cause this boy took my breath away!

He could be heard by his Frat brothers broadcasting, "I'm in love" walking into the Alpha Gamma Sigma house after our first date. My sorority sisters surrounded me with enthusiastic remarks like, "boy he really likes you," and " he didn't let go of you one time at the dance." Yes, I guess it was thoroughly evident that I was as twitterpated as a Disney character in his presence. His basilisk gaze made me week in the knees, put my head in a whirl and sent this chick walkin' on air. Evident to everyone except 'The Parents.' My mothers first response was, "I sent you to college to meet a doctor or a lawyer and what do ya bring home....another farmer." Daddy remarked, "well in my mind, anyone with hair that long has to squat to pee!" Yes, his hair touched his earlobes! Oh, how they wanted his number to come up in the draft. My future mother-in-law was NOT gonna sign for her twenty year old son to marry, besides she always wanted her boys to marry hometown girls. The saving grace was that my future father-in-law saw how very smitten we were and besides after raising three boys I think he kinda liked the idea of having a daughter. He loved to tease and I could take it, stir it up and serve it right back at him on a warm silver platter, with that I stole his heart.

On the sixth day of January, nineteen hundred and seventy three the day I dreamed of all my life had arrived. Every bride dreams of the perfect wedding day. I was no different besides I had just been a bridesmaid in such a wedding the week before when the temperature was a balmy seventy degrees. During the rehearsal dinner a horrific Ozark's ice storm set in covering the earth with a solid sheet of glossy ice slicker than snot on a glass door knob. My husbands brother, the best man, drove all night at a snails pace from Searcy, Arkansas picking up his parents and grandmother along the way forging ahead to the wedding. It was not the day I had visualized but it was my day and I was about to marry the man of my dreams so I was determined to make the best of it. Things went array, the florist from a nearby town delivered the wrong flowers intended for another wedding at a different location. In a calm manner,(cryin', screaming and stomping of feet),this was corrected in the nick of time. The little ring barer stepped on my train rippin' it off at the waist. Thank God for safety pins. The photographer booked did not bother to travel the sixty miles of icy roads, or pick up a phone. We just requested the guest to take loads of pictures with their Kodak Brownies. The Stockton Christian Church was filled with the correct flowers, wonderful friends and loving family to share our day. This moon~eyed chick had just said," I do", to the love of her life so it was a perfect day. It was my perfect day!

After a beautiful reception we headed to Branson to begin our life together. In 1973 Branson consisted of the Presely's and Baldknobbers variety shows and Silver Dollar City, all closed for the winter months. Lovestruck people just don't think well. The couple hotels there stayed open where a blizzard snowed us in the Holiday Inn for three days. From there we went to Little Rock and swung by Searcy to visit the brother-in-law and his wife where their Shitshu peed on our bed. Yep, their Honey~ mooned our bed! Slippin' and slidin' all the way, we made it back to the Ponderosa where we still forever sing about our thirty seven years together and how it's "Just an Old Fashion Love Song!"

OOPS I DID IT AGAIN

2010-01-07T12:01:00.004-06:00

Ya'll want me to hedge some stocks on Wall Street for your future stability? How about picking the winning pony at Churchill Downs or if oat munchin' equestrians aren't your thing how about a winning champion Greyhound at the Island Hotel Casino Racetrack? Doggone~it, I could be persuaded to make a wager at the Roulette tables in Vegas or close my big browns and toss some numbers for the Lottery your way. Attention: The Superbowl is comin' up folks so... call me don't be afraid to just call me! Sorry, it doesn't take much to make me break out in song. Heck, I'll even name your firstborn!!! Hi, my name is Nezzy and I do not have a gambling addiction but I sure have been one charmed farm chick lately.

Ahhh roses, this Ozarks gal just adores them. The rose is a perennial flower named from the French word Rosa. There are over one hundred species and are noted for their astounding beauty and fragrant aroma. I know, I have thirty eight of the bloomin' beauties with their sharp prickles and oval shaped leaflets adorning the gardens of the Ponderosa. They produce an edible fruit late in the growin' season called rose hips. These are used to create essential oils, rose water for Asian cuisine and French rose syrup used to make scones and marshmallows. These hips can also be used to make jams, jellies and tea. They are also an excellent source of vitamin C. I've photographed many roses but never ever did I capture anything like the incredible sugar laced rose Gail photographed one frosty Arkansas morning. That is frost around the peddle edges and Gail snapped it reproducing it on the exquisite note cards I won at her giveaway along with The Way for Cowboys New Testament Bible filled with amazing cowboy pictures and fascinating commentary.

Gail, At The Farm is a farmers daughter who returned to life on the family farm. She's an outdoor farm chick who loves horses and critters of all shapes and sizes. She has a wonderfully unique since of humor and as I have found out lately, she can be quite the little trickster. The girl knows how to get even! Gail has an eye for finding beauty in the unusual and capturing her treasure in captivating photos. Ya'll can view fabulous fungi, the rugged edges in dry cracked earth, shimmering ice clinging for dear life onto twigs. You can meet her clan of chickens, cats, dogs and horses who live together as the best of buds. Gail has a heart of gold. She plays Mom to foster dogs until she can place them in a good homes. She also has a full time job where she might have some incite on goin' postal. If you haven't visited Gail and her very interesting blog I strongly suggest you do so...NOW!!! I promise she will not disappoint.

So while I sit chillin' in the cold icy tundra on the Pondersoa, I'm open to helpin' ya'll out. Meanwhile, I may go find another giveaway 'cause this lucky Ozarks chick might be singing as Britney Spears sang in her 2000 hit song, "Oops,I Did It Again!"

THANKS GAIL!!!
.

HERE WE GO AGAIN

2010-01-04T09:12:00.003-06:00

The dingy aquatic webbed footed diver tagged 'the loon' is found in North America, Europe, Asia and debatably Africa. The word loon is sometimes associated with one being a little kooky or just plain loony. Folklore had dubbed this loony description as havin' uncontrolled madness from the lunar phases of the moon where the deranged word lunatic was born. She promised me as her "Loony Winner" I could be as loony as she is. This would mean there are two chicks runnin' free from straight jackets who are erratically crazy, maniacally spinnin' around the bend being foolishly outrageous. This Ozarks farm chick likes to think we are just a couple of deliriously unique gals.

Connie at the Far Side of Fifty is just the sweetest fun lovin' gal ya'd ever hope to meet. This Northern Boonie gal and the Far Guy have two daughters and five perfect grandchildren. She has a diverse blog where you can meet Chance, a lively photogenic Border Collie and view wonderful photos from the past and present. Let her take ya'll down memory lane as she draws you into the heritage of her wonderful stories. Connie shares my love of beautiful flowers (OCFD:obsessive compulsive flower disorder) and great tunes from the oldies. I also have to agree with her that Sean Connery is one class act.

Together Connie and the Far Guy make these beautiful ornaments. Connie designs the ornament and Far Guy cuts out the diamond shape. Connie then burns the outline and applies the paint makin' each and every one distinctively different. Then a name or message is burned on the back followed by a finishing process that would draw the attention of Basset furniture designers. There is definitely a duo effort crafted into each and every charming original ornament.

Ray Charles sang in the 1967 tune 'Here We Go Again', "That there's no way to win," does not hold true with this chick. Au Contraire Mon Frair, I've been livin' in Giveaway Heaven! I not only won one of these splendid ornaments, I am blessed with the message on the back from my dear blog-sister that I can cherish year after year. As I was ripin' into the package pulling out the note card containing a sweet Christmas wish, the 'Loony Ornament' and the beautiful copper hook I found myself singing, "HERE WE GO AGAIN!!!"

THANK YOU CONNIE :O)

FUN FUN FUN

2009-12-29T10:47:00.005-06:00

Exceptionally sinful sumptuous milk, dark and white creamy chocolate snuggled around tantalizing nuts and fruits inspiring your taste-buds and indulging your senses. It was this bag of Brookside Chocolate Covered Fruit & Nut mix that sent this Ozarks farm chick right into a food orgasm. Oh mama, I've died and won the mother load here. The decorated snowmen envelope arriving from Canada enclosed the award winning now empty bag of decadent morsels,(sorry sometimes a gal just can't help herself), an insightful Christmas update letter, two lovely embroidered dishcloths, a colorful package of cocktail napkins and a vintage style Christmas card from Sandy herself. Did I mention the drool invokin' yummy chocolate??? Yep, this farm chick has been one lucky lady. I won! I won Sandy's great giveaway!!

Sandy, aka Doris the Great is a wacky fun lovin' lady who can be found at Aging Disgracefully. She has a wonderful blog where you can learn about her professed admiration of quality chocolate. She shares my OCFD (Obsessive Compulsive Flower Disorder)and my intense hatred of pantyhose. This little gal loves the oldies, bargain hunting and currently holds the title of 'The Queen of Thrift.' Her heart is massively large. She opened her home to not one but two exchange students from two separate countries this school year. Santa's Little Helper even invited working strangers stranded in Canada to her Christmas dinner adding even more variety to her International Christmas. She is a woman that loves God and I'm sure He has a very soft spot in His heart for her.

This Ozarks chick has never had the opportunity to meet Doris the Great but God may never allow this to happen. I have a feelin' if we ever got together we would be a forcefully dangerous duo and the world might never recover. Let's just say if we borrowed father's Ford T-Bird we're probably not goin' to the library. Like the Beach Boys sang in 1964 we'd be out there havin' some "FUN FUN FUN!

THANKS SANDY!!!

DECK THE HALLS

2009-12-22T08:26:00.003-06:00

The stockings are hung by the chimney with care, Frosty and his gang are tucked in warm cozy corners for a long winters nap and this Ozarks farm chick can be found standin' under the mistletoe to swipe a sweet smooch from Santa baby! The fudge and other goodies are piled as high as the big rock candy mountain and the kitchen is filled with the aromas of baked goods seeping from the oven . Oh baby, country roads take me home we've got a country Christmas goin' on at the Ponderosa.

The hours of decorating, wrapping, stirrin' have paid off. Catching up on the eleven days I was running behind are now behind me as you could hear me singing my newest theme song of 'get~er~done.' I see the light! I won't even tell ya'll what my foot looked like after I accidentally knocked the hammer off the mantel or how badly I hurt when my wheel-barrel collapsed taking me down faster than a quarterback after the ball. Poor Mambo, the cat thought I was rollin' around on the ground just for his entertainment. Cats are like that, ya know. Did I ever tell ya'll I'm just a tad bit accident prone?

Close your eyes, inhale...exhale. {{Breathe}} Christmastime is here and this chick is ready for it. I'm ready for the grand-kids to reenact the first Christmas where the Wisemen brought gold frankincense and fudge to baby Jesus. Ya had to be there it was just too cute. So ready for Hubby to gather the clan to read the first Christmas story from his big old rugged looking Bible. I'm ready to thank God for sending his precious Son just because He loves us so much. I am ready to enjoy a silent night and remember why we push ourselves to the max. This chick is ready to thank Our Father for the many blessings He has poured upon us. I want to wish everyone a wonderful Christmastime with your loved ones and that you too remember the reason for the season. May God bless you all as you celebrate together and "Deck The Halls" with the love of Jesus!

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!!!

VACATION

2009-12-16T08:43:00.009-06:00

Steamy heated ocean breezes, the feel of pure sun toasted sand squishing between all ten of my tiny little tooties. I could surly squeeze in at least one warm December afternoon lying on the beach where the temps rarely fall below eighty. Yep,this Ozarks farm chick was leaving the cold Ponderosa's snowy forecast behind and headed to the tropical tip of Texas. My parents abide in Brownsville but that's just a hop, skip and jump over to 'The Island'. Ahaaah! South Padre Island is bordered by the Gulf of Mexico and Laguna Madre Bay. A place where Hubby and I love to escape for a late evenings stroll along the beach and take in the breathtaking sunset. The Island paradise where one can go horseback-riding against the oceans fine mist or grab a boat off the jetties to watch the dolphins dance on the water. South Padre is an excellent spot for a fella' who loves to fish but para-sailing, jet skis, dune buggies or hand gliding are available for the more adventurous lot. Yep, right after feedin' the masses Thanksgiving Day we packed up shorts,sleeveless ware and my 'kini and headed south to a warmer land. I laid it on as thick a a triple cheeseburger that we here headed to a place where the snow won't blow. This chick was commin' back to the Ponderosa toned and tanned!

I can hear the words of my Granny Walden echoing 'round my eardrums, "now, that'll learn ya!!!" Well shut my mouth 'cause I am now eating a bowl full of my boastful words with a big old spoon. Have ya ever heard of Red Tide? Caused by the Karenia Brevis organism, it develops a toxic algeal bloom that can plague shores causing breathing problems, burning eyes and skin irritations. Padre had issued a Red Tide Warning. We had messed with the stuff a few years earlier and developed sores on our legs that rivaled the Egyptian boils. Besides, thousands of dead fish of all sizes had washed ashore killed by the crimson tide left the ocean air less than desirable. Nope, not goin' there, wouldn't be prudent.

The temperatures dropped like a pair of loose uppers eating a caramel apple the day after we arrived never rising above the forties. Did ya hear me???? I said... the highs did not get out of the forties. Did I mention the rain? Tons of rain! Now in Brownsville any cold or rain is normally in and out in less than twenty~four hours but this stuff stuck around the whole trip following us around like a crazed stalker. It was a cold nasty windy winter rain and this chick knows winter when she feels it! The unkind weather beckoned one's heavy red wool winter coat with the hood up. The one left hanging in my coat closet. I had a full beach bag packed that never saw the light of day. I had a supply of CK shorts and cute little shirts to top them off. There was plenty of tanning lotion, swim-shoes and ponytail ties but I did NOT pack for a winter storm in south Texas!!!

Time is always an issue on these trips to visit my parents. As the rest of us,they aren't gettin' any younger and we try to cram as many of their needs as we can into five short days. Dad served on the Sandia Army Base in Albuquerque where the Home of the National Nuclear Security Administration Laboratory is located. In the fifties many nuclear tests were performed such as the testing of the A-bomb. Dad, as many who served during this time, developed a rare form of leukemia that he's battled for well over twenty years. The man's a true survivor who has beaten the odds again and again amazing not only us but his staff of doctors. We just laugh and call him Timex, ya know takes a lick and keeps on tickin'. Mom has had hip surgery and had cataract surgery just before our arrival. Hubby went with Dad and did man stuff like patchin' on the hurricane tattered roof, putting together his table saw stand and helping him set up a debit card. I went with Mom taking her shopping, gettin' her glasses and taking care of other girlie needs. Don't get me wrong, these are things we desire to do while we are there and have the chance.

My Sis, who lives in Brownsville and works on the Island, was not given a day off my whole visit. I was looking forward to some intense sista' time with her but the moments were few. My Mom, Aunt and I enjoyed a lunch at her workplace just to squeeze a little glimpse of her. The big bad evil boss-lady let her off for two days the day I left...go figure!

The night before we left Hubby and I decided we needed to spend a little quality together. It had been rare this trip so planned our date night. Betcha' ya'll are excited for me right now. First we made a trip to a local Mexican grocery store, El Global, to find Mexican Vanilla and true authentic hot sauces to bring home. After that big adventure we headed to Bennigans to split a burger. That's it, but we were together and we had fun. Really, I'm entertained quite easily. The following morning before the sun rose, we hopped in our well heated car and made the 1145 mile excursion back to the Ponderosa. Driving onto the carport I gazed deeply into Hubby's big browns and announced, "I need a vacation!" I hit the ground running and exhausted but I'd lost days in my Christmas preparation that had to be made up.

Yes, in July of 1962 Connie Francis sang her hit song that entered the Billboard Hot 100 ,V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N, adorned with words like, "the weather's warm but were playing it cool" or "we're on v-a-see-a-t-i-o-n, we're gonna have a ball." I know some weekend after the first of the year Hubby will whisk me away to a warm themed hotel room in Branson and this old tired farm chick will have a real "Vacation!!!"

HONEY

2009-12-09T10:13:00.004-06:00

Woohoo!!! A box of beautiful sweet treats were awaiting me when I arrived home from Texas. I was way past exhaustion but due to circumstances still I had to hit the ground running but thanks to sweet Mary at (theprovidentwoman) I feel like a pampered woman. Ya see, I'm dancin' my excited little happy dance 'cause I won...I won....Yippee! It usually doesn't take much to excite this Ozarks farm chick but let me tell you this stuff is great enough to call in the cows and pump molasses into their hay.

My prized box was filled with goodies of simplynaturalhoney products by Naturalhoney from Riley Country. I got a 6oz squeezable honey-bear. Now I've always had a soft spot for honey-bears but this one will be standin' on his pointed little head over homemade hot rolls tonight. A lotion bar, yep ya'll heard me right. I thought it was soap at first glance but it's a bar consisting of Shea butter and coconut oil that melts like butter into your skin leaving it soft and protected from the harsh elements. Heaven knows my abused hands need all the help they can get 'cause I'm always cleaning something! The lip balm is made with beeswax and sweet almond oil. 'Just makes a girl stand on her toes, pucker up and beckon Hubby to kiss her quick. My box unexpectedly contained a little glass bonus jar of honey not mentioned in the giveaway. Mmmmmmm, I'm thinkin' fresh hot homemade Southern Gal biscuits slathered with sweet gooey bee juice here. Let me tell you, I licked a sample off my sticky little fingers and it was good enough to grab a spoon. The last items were the straws that I'm just a little embarrassed about. Since I live a very secluded sheltered life on the Ponderosa leaving me clueless about more things than this chicks comfortable to admit, I wasn't sure whether to add the colorful straws to my bath and lather up or eat the things like Pixie Sticks. Now ya have to understand I debated this 'sticky' situation in my blonde little head for several days. Weighing my options carefully, I snipped the top off a straw this morn' and carefully sucked in a little taste. Since I didn't come up spitin' or bubblin' I consumed the whole straw. Heck, it was to tasty I grabbed another and downed it too! Mary please~please tell me these honey straws are the tasty treats I think they are.

Mary has a beautifully delightful blog so please pop over for a visit, you'll be glad you did. I tried to take a self portrait of myself surrounded by my goodies but my arms weren't long enough to get everything in the pic. Pardon the hair, I was out in the rainy elements all day running around like a mad woman. I also found that taking a pic of yourself is harder than gettin' a donkey to kneel on cold ground. Thank you so much Mary, I will enjoy! Tasty honey sweet and pure as Bobby Goldsburo sang in his tenth album in 1968, " Honey I love you!!!"

THEY'RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY

2009-11-25T12:23:00.005-06:00

They're coming to take me away ho-ho, hee-hee, ha-haaa, to the funny farm where life is...... Hey, wait a minute, hold the presses! I already live on the funny farm. It's called the Ponderosa where the lush winter wheat field radiates a brilliant emerald green. Where well fed cattle graze and happily chew their cud. A land where the birds sing melodies that fill the Ozarks air and one can hear Chalky the donkey braying for a juicy afternoon treat. Ahhh, this is a land where things seldom go as planned. It's a world that could drive a Type-A obsessively organized farm chick totally mad going completely berserk.

I spent last week on my hands and knees vacuuming every thick carpet fiber. Every nook and cranny of overstuffed furniture was sucked dry of any dust particles so completely the dust mites have vacated the premises and are shopping for new dwellings. I have emptied the dirty gatherings on my utility room floor and gone through every blessed dusty speck. The ashes of the fire place have been examined as thoroughly as a CSI investigation. My car has had the same treatment. I searched through trash, Walmart bags and yes even the peanut butter. Yep, this chick loves her Jiff. The local health food store even gave me their dirt to examine. Nasty!!! Bet ya'll are thinkin' this is some strange behavior even for Nezzy. Well, I lost the diamond out of my wedding ring a week ago. It just ripped my heart out because it IS my wedding ring. I have wasted a week digging, searching and turning my knees into hamburger to no avail when I needed to be working on Thanksgiving and packing for the trip to south Texas.

Saturday I had the day planned. I would clean the house (I know, but my name is Nezzy~I need help!) copy and put together next quarters curriculum for Kids Church which I had to be distributed to my helpers Sunday. I'd make the thorn arrangement Pastor had requested for his Sunday sermon and make a huge batch of dressing for the Thanksgiving banquet after services Sunday. My Sunday School lesson would be put together and I would study for Kids Church. Somewhere in here I'd wash my hair and do my nails. Diamond hunting through the week had left little time to do such trivial tasks.

Saturday morn came and Hubby thought it would be an excellent day to vaccinate the cattle that escaped last time and castrate the young bulls. When the wild eyed cattle were rounded~up we poked, cut and wormed the over sized bovine followed by the Great American Cattle Drive down the road to greener pastures. Most the cattle were perfect trailblazers but there are always a few who delight in running though or jumpin' over fences like crazed Olympians. After all trophys were awarded for the highest jumper and the fastest runner, Hubby wanted to go to a nearby town to pick up our new car. Flying to the house faster than a squirrel with a jet pack, I commenced to scrub the manure smell off,twist my hair in a cute little french knot and toss on some make-up. Ya'll know I'm not going anywhere without my makeup! I returned home and kicked myself into high gear. Working like an ant after hearing a winter storm forecast every task above was completed. WooHoo! Does this chick know how to get-er-done, or what? Nothing wrong with me except I'm still amazed how the heck I managed to put the cheese in the hamper. Yes, I did!

Sunday came early and so did my Sunday School class. Kids Church was a blast but I'm always exhausted by the time it's over. The Thanksgiving banquet was delicious and the fellowship even better. I washed the dishes as others helped with clean up and we came home. Day of rest, day of rest, day of rest, right? Oh, Lord I'm sorry but it was warm and I wanted to get a coat of wax on the car before it hit the salty corrosive air of Brownsville, so I waxed the car.

I'm going nuts. My push for perfection and attention to details have me overwhelmed. My day, hourly and minute plans have gone out the window like a bird freaked by a pouncing cat. Forget the fact that our very large Thanksgiving celebration is tomorrow. Forget the packing is not completed nor is the food ready. Here I sit blogging like I have nothing else to do. Why you ask? Because I want to wish you all a wonderful Thanksgiving with your families. I want to tell ya'll to enjoy all the love that surrounds you so much that your lap may never be empty. I wanted to tell you that before those nice young men in their clean white coats take me to the happy home with trees and flowers and chirping birds and basket weavers as the 1966 song of Napoleon XIV goes. I will be in the Texas gulf for a week an will see ya'll when I get back. 'Just wanted to say all that because I fear "THEY'RE COMING TO TAKE ME AWAY"

ABA-DABA HONEYMOON

2009-11-16T12:48:00.004-06:00

Toilet paper in a four roll pack could be purchased for five pennies. A can of Campbell's tomato soup was a mere dime and a ten pound bag of potatoes brought a whopping thirty~five cents. It was a time when a housewife could fill a grocery bag with three cans of cream corn for thirty eight cents, a loaf of bread for twelve cents and treat the family to a T-bone steak for fifty nine cents a pound. Tunes such a "Hey, Good Lookin," "Unforgettable" and the theme to "I Love Lucy" were blaring from Thunderbird convertibles. George Burns and Gracie Allen were burning up the airways along with "Whats my Line" and the "Jack Benny show." Harry S. Truman was President and the United Nations had just opened in New York City. John Hustons dramatic film "The African Queen" staring Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn premiered in Hollywood. The year was 1951 and their song was" Mona Lisa".

Country mouse meets city mouse. He was stationed on the Sandia Army Base in Albuquerque, New Mexico as a Military Policeman. She worked at a local movie theater where she had once told John Wayne over the phone, "Ya, right and I'm Marylin Monroe!" She couldn't get the paint out of her hair from painting their new apartment and he couldn't wait to make her his bride. The wedding would be a simple home ceremony with close family and a few friends.

November 14, 1951 at 7:30 in the evening my mother and father exchanged their wedding vows. Mom wasn't going to let a little paint in her hair ruin her day. Dad had less than twenty-four hours before he had to report back to duty. They told everybody they were going to Santa Fe to honeymoon. Oh, that would have been so lovely but time would not allow such a luxurious trip. Ain't nothing worse than a bunch of MP's barging in on a couple 'cause the grooms gone AWOL, so they stopped at a little Podunk town with a Podunk motel and well.... let's just say there was no honeymoon suite available. 'Nuff said. Dad was back on base in time and what did Mom do on her second night of wedded bliss? Can you say slumber party? Her best friend Emma and some other chicks spent the night at her newly painted apartment gabbin' and gassin' as gals do when they get together. Mom and Dad lived in that little apartment until Dad was discharged from the Army about a year later and the Missouri move was on.

Poor Mama moved from the city where water ran freely from faucets and one could use inside facilities. The town was a small rural community with population less than 300. The farm house was a large two story home with electricity but no running water. The bathroom facilities consisted of a two seater outhouse tucked behind two large lilac bushes. Mom was a duck out of water, a chick out of her element. She was moved to a land which spoke a foreign language. Words like county-pin meant bedspread and a safe was a cupboard used to store flour and dishes. When my grandmother announced she needed to go to the closet my mother watched as Grannie walked out of the house and beyond the front porch. Mom's curiosity was quenched when she discovered the word closet meant outhouse. Who knew?

My uncle came to help Dad put screens on the house and Mom was in charge of preparing the meal. Dad asked mom if she would fry a chicken for them. Not knowing what was to come next Mom answered," sure!" Dad went outside ran down a chicken, rang it's neck, beheaded it, plucked it and slapped its naked body on the table saying "there ya go" as he walked off leaving Mom in shocking despair. My uncle noticed the citified look on Mom face stating, "ya don't know how to dress a chicken do ya?" He then proceeded to teach Mom the ways of the Ozarks and cut the critter up for her. Moms first attempt to help with cattle was during a loading event. Dad placed Mom in a space by the loading chute and told her just to stand there and the cattle would go obediently in. Ya right, if you work with cattle ya know they seldom do what their suppose to. Dad headed the cattle toward Mom. Now if your a city gal and you have a herd of cattle runnin' right at you , what's a city girl gonna do? Of course she's gonna let out the loudest bloodcurdling scream from the deepest depths of her lungs and jump right up in the middle of the hood of Hubby's truck. This granted abundant amusement and entertainment to all the in-laws.

Fifty eight years ago my parents married. I was born in 1952 exactly ten months later. In 1960 I was blessed with a sister , a real live doll to play with. Mom eased her way into country life embracing many years on the farm where she could cut up a chicken faster than her butcher in Albuquerque. My parents have since moved to Brownsville, Texas where Dad will never have to feed cattle in the snow and ice again. Soon after Thanksgiving we will be making the trip to see them leaving the Ponderosa behind where I moved after my "Aba-Daba Honeymoon." Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!!!

I CAN'T HELP MYSELF(SUGAR PIE, HONEY BUNCH)

2009-11-07T08:08:00.011-06:00

Sarai is the original name in Hebrew from which the name Sarah sprang forth. It means princess. Grace is Latin meaning a favored blessing, a virtue name referring to God's grace. This precocious perfect princess just had her forth birthday. Sarah Grace is simply a bubbling broth of personality charming anyone who crosses her path. Ya just look into those big browns and melt like a Popsicle on a humid summer day. {SIGH}

She delights in coloring, loves books and is curious about everything. Our favored blessing is an avid helper and is always right on the spot to offer assistance. Although she is totally different from her big sister Honor, she wants to be just like her. That 'Gracie'(as we call Miss Sara) girl is meltdown cute and knows how to work it.

During Honors birthday party Sara had anyone who would listen trying to help her find her beautiful fairy dress. Guests were lead into her bedroom to search her closet, under her bed and in her toys until her mother announced that 'Gracie did not own said beautiful fairy dress. ' This rockin' grandmas light bulb lit up like a Christmas tree with the perfect birthday present for this enchanted child, a beautiful fairy dress! An inquisitive adult guest then asked the question, "Sara what color will your fairy dress be?" "PINK, I want my fairy dress to be pink," the wide eyed child replied. OK, a beautiful pink fairy dress, how hard can that be? I want to stop right now and personally thank the guest who posed the color question to Sarah, it made my life extremely interesting the next few weeks. I found beautiful fairy dresses 'Gracie's' size in soft heavenly white, fluffy frilly yellows and a most beautiful misty green winged frock I'd ever laid eyes on. The search wasn't easy but with great determination a beautiful pink fairy dress was in the bag. Yep, grandma got'er done.

My son told me this story the other day. All four children were hopping around the house as bunnies. It really doesn't take much to entertain us down here in the Ozarks. Brother Joel raised up with an " arrrrrrrr" swatting the air with his bunny claws. My son states, "Oh no, we have a rabid~ rabbit in our midst." A couple days later Sarah crawls up in her daddy's lap making a wrinkly face going 'arrrrrr' at her daddy. Son asks, "and.... what are you?" 'Cause one rarely knows around that active animalhousehold. Sarah giggled her little giggle and said, "I'm a bunny~bunny daddy!" That's our Gracie!

Our little favored princess blessing who is full of grace brings our family joy every day. I see that wide faced smile and all I want to do is scoop her up like a big dip of cappuccino chocolate chunk ice cream and cover those pink chubby cheeks with my special noisy grandma kisses. As the Four Tops sang on their Motown single released in 1965, "I Can't Help Myself"...(Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch!!!)

RING OF FIRE

2009-10-29T12:18:00.008-05:00

It's untamed unrestrained frolicking flame tempts me and teases me. The romantic forceful flicker freely dancing about inhaling oxygen summons and beckons me into its magical powers. Hi, my name is Nezzy and I love fire. Yep, I adore setting fires. I covet watching the uninhibited consumption of the forceful blaze. Living smack in the middle of the Ponderosa allows me to feed my addiction. I get to burn trash, brush piles and enjoy the heat pushing from my fireplace every blessed day of winter. Hi, my name is Nezzy and I might be a pyromaniac. I once burned a hole in my moms kitchen linoleum floor as a young fire crazed child. When mom left the house to do chores I headed for the matches. I truly believe it is hereditary. My son loves the flame and he married a gal who loves to burn. I caught my twelve year old grandson just sittin' staring into the fireplace announcing he'd rather watch fire than T.V. Today I want to touch on a subject that burns within.

PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT: Wrap up the babies and get the young'ens out of the room. The subject today is for mature audiences only!

Men-o-pause: What the heck do men have to do with it? Rita Rudner once said, "Male menopause is a lot more fun than female menopause. With female menopause you gain weight and get hot flashes. Male menopause-you get to date young girls and drive motorcycles." Well let me tell ya'll, major mood swings, racing pulse, drenched clothes and sleepless nights are not this farm chicks idea of fun. Your temp can swing from hot as a fireplace to livin' in an igloo faster than an Ozarks weather change. This is not your mothers menopause. Our mothers were on birth-control pills and stayed on them during "the change" which I believe kept them from turning into a psycho mama drama. I never saw my mother want to shuck her pantyhose right in the middle of praise and worship service 'cause they were melting into every pore of her body. How do you know your in perimenopause? Well girls, if you have stripped your heating system from your house and put it in the neighbors yard sell your probably there. Your definitively there if you are calming watching your favorite program or reading a good book and get the urge to rip off your clothes and run naked through the cow pastures.

The symptoms differ for each individual at various intensities. One might see a change in their periods. A once monthly visitor might skip a month or decide to come visitin' several times. Until three months ago I thought I would be the only old lady in the nursing home that attendants would have to order tampons for. I could just hear 'em, "Did anyone buy the OBs? Aunt Flow has come to visit Nezzy again!" Weight gain seems to become a problem at this time sometimes causing a menopot otherwise known as the midriff bulge. Seventy five percent of ya gals suffer from power surges (hot flashes). Your internal furnace basically short-circuits putting you on a roller coaster ride of wet hot sweat that soon turns cold and clammy ending with a mass of freezing chills. Ya step out of your wonderfully relaxing bath toweling off to apply lotion that only wants to lather. Nobody promised this was going to be pleasant. Night sweats are just hot flashes that give you menomares and steals your sleep waking you up so you can change your sheets and put on some flippers. If you see your Hubby shivering and putting on more clothes you know you have entered this phase. Others suffer from the forgetful menobrain or fuzzy thinking that is just a form of temporary insanity. These menopausal moments can be rather entertaining. Instead of having another emotional breakdown just dance and celebrate because you finally found the missing toilet paper you stored in the freezer. Some experience mood swings that don't require a mood ring to tell anyone around to stand back and give you your moment. There is hair loss due to the imbalance of hormones and facial hair growth for the same reason. Then comes the drying of the skin and the absence of your natural personal lubricants leaving you as dry as the Mojave Desert. Not needing to be reminded I'm still one hot chick has not been the highlight in my life.

I will try not to dwell upon the fact that this phenomena can last up to ten years. I'm just tryin' to focus on the joy that I haven't chocked the life out of anyone yet. Hubby keeps reminding me in his very wise tone, "this too shall pass!!!"

Ah, I see the light....there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Help is out there in many forms. I decided not to go the way of HRT treatment due to the vast side effects and go au'natural. I am just a natural kinda gal. In the beginning little tweaks helped. I practice yoga, exercised and ate a balanced diet. Aloe Vera gel is a great personal lubricant. Soyshakes are good along with added vitamin E. I added a topical progesterone cream and passion flower as I progressed. Two years later I added black cohosh. A couple years later red clover was added to the mix. Then the walls collapsed and I was having sweats every fifteen minutes day and night with little or no sleep. It wasn't a pretty sight. A topical estrogen cream was added. I tried an array of products tweaking different mixtures and was getting no relief until I tried Menopause Solutions which changed my life! After one dose the hot flashes diminished and I was able to sleep again without the menomares. I was able to drop black cohosh, red clover and passion flower from my arsenal. I get nothing from Menopause Solutions, they are not a sponsor nor even care that they have helped this gal from runnin' naked through the fields. I'm just sayin' when the time comes or the next time ya feel that old power surge running from the top of your head to the tips of your toes ya might want to try Menopause Solutions total system balance instead of fallin' into the "Ring of Fire."

DONT FENCE ME IN

2009-10-21T10:29:00.001-05:00

The past three weeks we have experienced wailing that would put any infant nursery to shame. Mothers diligently screaming at their children at the top of their lungs. Ya know, like the ones you see in department stores who just lose it and go berserk . There have been jail breaks like convicts escaping after an unattended Brinks truck. Stampedes like the ones you see in an old John Wayne western flick. Gooshing gooey mud like quicksand sinking this farm chicks barn boots so deep that when Hubby called out, "catch that renegade!" I helplessly replied, "I can't move, I'm stuck !" The Young Guns have been the most difficult bunch of calves to wean on the Ponderosa......ever! I don't know if any of ya'll believe in the sign of the moon thing but when you work with animals or children it can make a believer out of you. Hubby has the habit of checking the sign in the Farmers Almanac after we work, castrate, dehorn or wean the cattle. Three weeks ago after we penned the Young Guns we settled in our comfy chairs for the evening as Hubby pulled out the almanac announcing, "well, we couldn't of picked a worse time to wean 'em." No truer words were ever spoken.

Our nights echoed of loud blaring sounds from mothers with bulging leaky utters calling out to their obvious starving children who would all sing back in vocal unison ," Maaaaaaaaa!" Sweet uninterrupted sleep was not an option not for just a night or two but nights upon nights. During all this we had jail breaks of the occasional starved baby who weighs between 500-700 pounds push through a barbed wire fence and the secondary electric fence just for a nightcap of warm rich milk. Each and every one had to be retrieved during our flood and deep mud. Did I mention the bear? Yep, Smokey took a liking to the liquid feed which has a molasses base that was placed in the weaning pen for extra nutrients. Cattle just love it but to a bear it's like a rich sweet chocolate truffle to a woman with PMS. The act of a bear dining in their territory sparked more than one stampede not only tearing down tight barbed fences but bending steel posts to the ground. Each evening Hubby would arrive from work and I'd don the barn boots and help capture the runaways returning to the house with my fresh washed hair sporting the smell of cow manure. I just want to wash my hair and retain the luscious smell of my Catwalk Fashionista which lingers on my pillow. You know what I'm sayin'?

Last Saturday gave us a much awaited dry day. A day in which we could vaccinate the calves preparing them for pasture. We usually call in the Strongbacks (farm hands) when we full throttle work cattle but we had already castrated the Young Guns so Hubby and I went solo. We have been working together so long we have this vaccinating thing down to a rock and roll science. I had totally forgotten about the large bull calf who had been saved for a nearby farm. The farm that had backed out of the whole deal. The large 700lb bull calf who was now too large to be castrated would need to be banded. We needed a large burly dude with curly chest hair and some tattoos to kink this animals tail up and over its back in the head gate so Hubby could keep all his teeth while banding the calf's treasured family jewels. Nope, there was nobody 'round here to fit that bill so I became the chosen one. The one who slipped thicker leather gloves on her dedicate tiny hands. The one who reached up and over the head gate not really having enough leverage to do the job. The one who said, "I will NOT reach between the bars to grab the animal!" (Reaching to grab said large hysterical ballistic animal between two steel bars=broken arm, duh!) The one who filled the farm air with her high pitched tones announcing to God, Hubby and bordering farms, "I don't have enough testosterone to do this...I NEED MORE TESTOSTERONE!" The one who did it anyway and gott'er done.

Finally the Young Guns have settled. They have been roaming between the corral and holding lot enjoying their feed , sipping on fresh cool well water, snacking on hay and chewin' their cud. After three long weeks of weaning they are ready to be moved to wider greener pastures where they can roam and await the move to the lush winter wheat pasture. I look forward to silent nights, fresh washed hair and smelling like Cinnabar verses the calf pen. Soon and very soon the Young Guns will be moved and will not be singing that old familiar song, "Don't Fence Me In!"

*If you'd like to read more about the Young Guns see "Daddy Sang Base Mama Sang Tenor " July 28 under Ponderosa

YIPPIE TIE YIE YAY- COWPATTY!

2009-10-12T16:13:00.002-05:00

It is not the stuff dream-filled sandcastles are make of. Rich warm squishy mud oozing between the toes of a barefooted child cannot compare to its sculpting constructional texture. It is the medium Michelangelo,Picasso or Bastlitz would have preferred if they had grown up on a farm seven miles away from civilization or playmates.

I loved playing outside on warm humid summer days with John my imaginary girlfriend (yes, John was a girl) and my little toy fox terrier, Tiny. My mother was most patient as she lovely set an extra plate at the table for John, helped her into her red coat with the big black buttons or calmed down hysterical visitors frightened by my vivid imagination. What's a girl to do if a friendly visitor steps right on your BFF? Poor trembling neighbor! I was carted off the the doctor shortly after that episode to see if I was in my right mind. John and I had a great time together but the best memory was one afternoon spent in the shade of the old maple tree that overshadowed our backyard. John rested in the shade as I sought fresh cow manure filling my little purple plastic bucket. Working in just enough dirt with my red shovel to improve the almost perfect texture, I remember thinking this is going to be the best! I'm going to make my daddy a surprise birthday pie. Not even close to his birthday this would really be an awesome treat. The birthday pie would be placed upon a broken mudflap platter, adorned with rock decorations and stick candles. A creation any little farm chick would be proud of!

As daddy pulled up driving the big black cattle truck, John and I ran toward him full of excitement carrying our prized creation. In my loudest voice I proudly announced , "Daddy look what we've made for you!" He snatched that old mudflap from my dirty stinkin' little hands faster than a five year old could blink as his surprise birthday pie went flying through the summer sky. Devastated my heart leaped into my throat as he yelled," get this kid out of the @&#%$* cow manure!" Daddy did not share Mamas compassion and enthusiasm for John or beautifully creative birthday pies.

Today I can still be found roving green pastures for dried cow patties to enrich my roses and fertilize my hungry flower gardens taking me back to a younger time on a hot summer day when my daddy did not appreciate my cowpatty surprise!!!

GIRLS JUST WANNA HAVE FUN

2009-10-03T09:45:00.000-05:00

Gatherings with our family are usually a riot. I'm not talking the ha-ha this is so funny it's a riot type thing. The fact is when our gentle loving clan get together it often means guns and explosives....or both! Is it not normal for all the men folk to pull out their prized weapons after the traditional Thanksgiving dinner stuffing their bellies tighter than the turkeys and prove their marksmanship to the other alpha males of the family? Let me tell you the Fourth of July is a real blast. Since we live on the Ponderosa in the middle of Ozarks, anything goes. Our pyrotechnical kin go hog wild seeing who can tie the most explosives together and live to brag about it. I'm still lookin' for the neighbor who called the sheriffs bomb squad!

Weddings are not immune to such behavior. This farm chick is always quite interested in whatever unusual grand event might take place at a wedding of a niece or nephew as soon as the announcement arrives. I have had a nephew and his beautiful bride carted off in a hot air balloon for their nuptials. Once everyone in the wedding party wore flip-flops. We have had camouflaged weddings, comical ceremonies filled with quirky songs and antics from the bride and groom that had me rollin' with laughter. The fish fry reception was something I had never ever witnessed. When I opened the announcement of the latest invitation I was enthralled with the question, so.... what's next?

I was ecstatically happy when my two youngest granddaughters were asked to be the flower girls. Something the oldest of the two had dreamed of and longed for her whole life. When asked she told the bride, "well, I'd love to but I don't have a dress!" When the bride assured the little fashionistas she had dresses for them and would not have to toss the petals in something they'd already worn, there was an instant 'yes' from both sweeties. The flower girls did a marvelous job. Truly they did....really..... nope....not any grandma braggin' here. They were the perfect flower girls. Goldilocks (who I call Mini-Me) pulled me down in the receiving line and said with great excitement, "Grandma, I can't believe I am really, truly, actually a flower girl!!!" Dreams really do come true, especially when your five goin' on six.

The only hitch in the wedding was the hitchin' that took place when the pastor pronounce the bride and groom, "man and wife." There were no guns, horses, bubblin' grease or explosives. DARN! The beautifully normal wedding was followed by cascades of bubbles leading to a lovely reception. The flower children were really into blowin' bubbles and the chocolate fountain was a major hit! Especially with the youngest of the two. The happy bride and groom whisked away to begin their new life together but they weren't the only ones who had their dreams granted that day. Two little flower girls had the time of their lives and we all know that "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun!"

BABY I'M A WANT YOU

2009-09-28T12:05:00.000-05:00

Heartstrings tugging to the depths of my irradissant tiny coral toenails. That faraway yearning look in my big brown batty eyes. My achy arms craving soft pure squishy rolls of skin cradled within them. Hearing the forlorn longing noted in my deep sexy voice. ( OK, so I'm stretching it a bit here with the deep sexy voice thing but a girl can dream can't she?) These are the things Hubby picks up on when he realizes that I am experiencing Grandmother withdrawal symptoms again. He knows this farm chick all too well. Reading me like a book he asked if I would like to make the trip to see baby Ian sometime during the weekend for a grandma fix. Well duh......that's a no-brainer!

It had been a very long four weeks since I had kissed those well fed pudgy cheeks and planted one of my very special grandma kisses on them. In baby years that is like....HALF of his little life!!! I was so afraid he would not remember me, my smell and my voice. I feared Ian would take one look at me and scream like he had been visited by the boogie man. I anticipated reacquainting myself having another meet and greet session with the little lad.

Much to my delight as soon as I picked the brilliant baby boy up he rolled his eyes to one side as if he were pulling my voice from his memory catalog then looked me straight in the eye flashing a big full face smile. I melted right on the spot. But wait! He didn't stop there! He cooed, babbled and grinned some more telling me in his baby dialect how very excited he was to see us. He did exactly the same thing with Gramps. After getting my fix and kissing that sweet round face we began the trip home. Even though I am not able visit every time I get an urge I want him to know how special he is and that "Baby I'm A Want You!"

UNDERDOG

2009-09-23T15:34:00.002-05:00

A brave guard dog who always displays protective courage. One who charges at danger with the speed of lighting and roar of thunder. A fighting canine who will chase away those who rob and plunder. A dog who makes any frail farm chick feel warm and all fuzzily safe just known' her trusty companion is near. These traits may describe Underdog but Tiger the Wonder Dog....... they are NOT!

Several years ago shortly after our beloved Scampy passed of old age a tiny stray showed up timidly cowering under the cottage gardens' walkway. I wanted to find another home for this scraggly hungry pup and pick out a 'real' dog but Hubby had other ideas. I can still hear his words, "ya need a dog for protection when I am out on the truck." Yes, I had to agree. I spent much time alone with me, myself and I. We enjoyed each others company while Hubby was away. I did need a good aggressive watch dog. Hubby went on to state what a good cow dog this puppy would make. I was used to Scampy who would stand between me and the stranger who stopped by. Scampy who always barked when someone drove in or walked toward my door. Scampy who we could judge our daughters young courtiers by. She had bit through cowboy boots and even chewed at the tires of their pick-up trucks if she didn't trust the young gents with our sweet girl. Oh, that dog was a marvelous judge of character! Scampy often singed her mouth and fur saving us from our blazing fireworks by grabbing the lit explosive and running through the field with it to prevent her family from harm. Finally, I surrendered naming the little stray Tiger in hopes he would live up to his boldly ferocious name.

Tiger grew up morphing into a fine looking dog. He looks very strong and mighty. He looks like he would be the territorial protector of his home and family. Well folks, let me tell ya...looks could not be more deceiving. It's quite embarrassing to admit how very wimpy this dog is. Tiger is not a cow dog, so not a worker of the cattle. In fact he chases them along with cars. He rarely barks when we have someone come but we can always count on him barking as they leave. If a stray dog visits you can find Tiger shaking like a paint mixer under the car watching the visitor devour his kibbles. Wildlife in our yard is not chased away by our brave pup as he chooses to let them dine also. We have everything from armadillos to cougars and bears 'round these parts. In the mix of all these critters trembles Tiger the Wonder Dog.

I must brag a little. May I? I'm throwing out my chest poppin' my buttons here. Enjoy this, bragging rarely happens when it comes to my beloved pet. There was one time last summer when I was going to burn trash Tiger showed his one and only burst of boldness. As I opened the gate to walk to the trash barrel, Tiger bolted by me with mighty speed almost knocking this chick off her feet. He boldly streaked past me around the barrel gabbing a raccoon who was obviously ill by the neck carrying it away from me. Tiger made sure the 'coon was demised before he returned for praise and a pat on the head. The sick raccoon probably was rabid. Uncharacteristically he saved me that warm summer day. One bout of bravery our Tiger the Wonder Dog has on his resume but no one will ever mistake him for the fearless "Underdog!"