WHEN I GROW UP (TO BE A MAN)

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)

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.)

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

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)

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

 

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)"

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

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

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

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!

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!!!"