LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE TO MY SONG

I've been madder than a dwarf with a long stringed yo~yo! Folks, this has been one tough week on this Ozark Farm Chick. I've sadly been greavin' deeply for a loss I never thought I'd have to face. Farm Boy tried to break it to me gently for he knows my passions but I have to tell ya it went down 'bout as well as the iron tonic Mama used to force me to swallow. Few things will rile me up like this and make me madder than a welfare mom runnin' outta food stamps mid~month.

Hubs said, "your not gonna like this" and I didn't. He knows me too well. Sunday mornin' when the radio clicked on I was not awaken by my beloved oldies that have nudged me from sleep for eons. Nooooo0, I heard Scrugg's banjo blarin' which was 'bout as welcomed as deviled egg gas passed in a telephone booth. My oldies station has gone country and turned my world upside down!!!

I fed piles of quarters into the jukeboxes at Stockton's Castle Drive~In and El Dorado's Cooper Drug store durin' my teen years to saturate my soul with this music. Ya just can't beat the sound of The Beetles, Elton John, The Beach Boys and Connie Frances while sippin' a chocolate ice cream soda or playin' the pinball machines. My first party, dance, kiss and pretty near everything else left to the imagination involved this music. Why, life without these grand tunes would be kinda like goin' to the goat house for wool!

My first clock radio was purchased at a little hardware store just off the square in Stockton. I had saved my money and thought I had gathered just enough to own it. I'd been droolin' over it for months. As I very carefully unfolded my bills to complete this transaction, I discovered I had not saved enough to cover my dream radio and the tax. The kind owner smiled and sold me the radio anyway. Woohoo, my tween self couldn't get the boxed tunes home fast enough to set the alarm to awaken me with the best songs ever. Elvis sang me awake that mornin' with ample time to ready myself and catch the school bus. This vintage boombox stirred my sleep through high school and was my early mornin' companion in college as well as the lyrics which shaped my life.

When my hunka~hunka~burnin' love and I married and moved to the Ponderosa there was one and only one oldie station we could get down here in these hills and hollers. We live so far back in the country folks think a Volvo is a woman's body part. I've faithfully listened to this 'Oldies Station' over thirty nine years. I raised Geek Son and Social Butterfly on these nostalgic melodies. My grandkiddos know 'em well. Heck, my posts carry the names of the songs I adore.

While the dishwashers sloshin', washer's agitatin', dryer's tumblin' on Deep Clean Friday, ya can find this caped crusader super cleanin' freak dancin' and dustin', singin' and scrubbin' or rockin' and rubbin' to the oldies as I get the Ponderosa's abode cleaner than a freshly showered priest on Sunday mornin'. Ya'll know how twisted this chick is when it comes to clean but it makes my heart sing and when ya add some rockin' tunes, life just doesn't get any better!

I can be workin' outside sweetin' like a gal writtin' her fist love letter while workin' in one of my many flower gardens yet be happier than a hungry bird with a french fry as long as I have my oldies to listen to. (Pictures from my rose garden last summer) My afternoon swims will never be the same void of Kool & The Gang, The Temptations or The Carpenters. I fear without my oldies I'm gonna sink lower than a moles belly on diggin' day.



I called the radio station and they acted like I was a half a bubble off plum 'cause I wasn't thrilled with their changes. They scoffed at me when I explained there's a country station on every corner 'round these parts and without oldies, they were simply just another station. I felt like I was talkin' to a rock. My emails have gone unanswered. Colder than a polar bears toenails~ they don't care. Oh Mama, look what they've done with my songs!!!

Don't get me wrong. I love music...varieties of music and will listen to more than only the oldies. I love soft jazz, contemporary christian, praise and worship and most anything playin' in my head but I thrive on the oldies. Miss Safka expressed my current feelins on her 1970 hit album 'Candles in the Rain' as she sang, "Well they tied it up in a plastic bag and turned it upside down." This little radio station is now as useless to me as a screen door on a submarine as I cry out "Look What They've Done to My Song!!!"

HAPPY TOGETHER

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!!!

SOUNDS OF SILENCE

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"!!!

ONE..... (Two Giveaway winners)

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"!!!

COLD AS ICE

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!!!"

IV'E GOT SO MUCH TO GIIVE

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!!!

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

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.

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!!!

CLIMB EV'RY MOUNTAIN

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!!!

HELLO DOLLY

I'm encouraging Hubby to develop a relationship with her. She is strong, so much stronger than this farm chick who finds herself yelling 'testosterone' at the top of her lungs when trying to muster up enough strength to do something I probably have no business attempting. Dolly is long and lean with firm legs strong and steel like. She can lift many times her weight. I've begged Hubby to take her out for a spin 'cause she can waltz across the dance floor like she's floating on air. What red blooded man would not love spending time with Dolly? Yet he resists strongly, beg as I may.

Today is my favorite day of the week. The day I get to snoop out every dust bunny. The day I disassemble the faucets and wash out those germy filter screens. Do ya'll realize how much moldy bacteria and fungi gather in those things? The day I clean the furnace filter, bathtub jets and yes I even disinfect our toothbrushes. I live for Deep Clean Friday delighting every moment of it. I would rather vacuum than shop. Nothing makes me quite as ecstatic as to sit back in the knowledge everything is in spotless order.

Hubby will be working very diligently at his job. He is strong,a very robust strong fella'. Of course he has the advantage of testosterone oozing out his pores allowing bulk and power. When he runs the dairy supply routes he carries twenty-five, fifty, hundred pound barrels of supplies that are used during and after the milking process. His daddy said once before he joined the angel band ,"man, the boy is strong as an ox." The strength is still there but let's face it folks, the man ain't twenty anymore. ( Shhhh, don't tell him , we'll just let him live in La-La Land a little longer.) Hubby's joints are 57 years old, they can forecast a storm front faster than Doppler radar. The elbows, shoulders and neck ache after a day of lifting. I beg him to use a dolly. What's the harm in a little assistance?

As I bask in the glory of a spotless Ponderosa home tonight, Hubby will come in tired sporting aches and pains. Again, I will push this relationship upon him suggesting that he simply say, "Hello Dolly!"

I WILL FIND YOU

Where's Hubby......can you find him???

What a blessed morning I have experienced on the Ponderosa. Arising at dark-thirty a.m. to meet the dust bunnies and lime scale this cleanin' crazed farm chick donned the rubber gloves raring to beat the dirt this excitedly anticipated Deep Clean Friday. I know, I know, "cleanliness is next to godliness," is not found in the Good Book but it should be! The house is clean enough for the Almighty himself to eat off the floor. Not that I would every toss a meal on the floor along with a fork and tell ANYONE to go for it. The throne is sparkling enough for royalty to relax and sit a spell. I admit I need help. I look at my vac the way most women look at the beefcakes on some hunky fireman calendar. Clean makes me happy, I thrive on order. I need to know everything is in its place. But where in Gods green earth is my hubby?

A year ago when we didn't know beans about beans we planted half the bottom land in soybeans. Native to East Asia 5,000 years ago they used the beans as a major food source. According to Ancient Chinese history, in 2853BC the Emperor Shennog proclaimed soybeans were sacred. An excellent protein source, these familiar legumes have been grown for thousands of years as food for millions around the earth sporting many health benefits such as reducing cholesterol due to being high in phytoestrogens which also help menopausal women. FLASH....we 'hot' chicks need all the help we can get. Soybeans have also been used as a feed ingredient for our livestock industry. The complex structure of the plant provides building blocks allowing the production of hundreds of products that ya'll probably never thought might be made of the little green bean.

Things ya use every bloomin' day are made from the greater bean. Take a bath? Oh please let me hear your answering "YES". You have beans in your bath soap, shampoo, hair conditioner, hand cleaners and the candle you are burning by your relaxing bubble bath. Do laundry? Again I prayin' I'm hearing those affirmations out there. We all know mama told you,"we don't put dirty duds on a clean body." You are using beans to pretreat, wash and soften your laundry. Have furniture? Sure hope your not decoratin' with egg crates and pallets to embellish your French Chicken coop style. Yep, tables, chairs and all sorts of furniture are made of beans even the wax and cleaners to keep it beautiful....beans. Everywhere we turn from that box of crayons to fuel additives have been invaded by soybeans. But wait, have ya'll forgotten about Hubby???

He is the first blind date I every went on. That date that has lasted more than 38 years and the sparks are still flyin'. The hardest working man I have ever seen holds a job off the Ponderosa so we can afford to love the land. A job that consists of a liquid feed salesman, dairy truck route, semi-truck grain driver or anything else the boss-man may ask of him. 'Very multi talented this one is. He's the farm boy I still have moon eyes for and still get tingly when he takes my hand. The one I said yes to for this journey we call life. Where's Hubby??? Answer:In this years soybean field. He is the man OUT STANDING in his field! If I really could not find him as Clanned sang in 2004 in the movie "Last of the Mohicans", no matter where you go, I will find you. If it takes a thousand years, I WILL FIND YOU!!!

THE ITSY BITSY SPIDER

Situated on their fine hairy little hinies (settle down girls,I'm not talking Mel Gibson here) are spinnerets which contain several spinning spools that ooze viscid fluid which hardens into fine silken threads. The eight eyed eight legged arachnids extraordinary web has the relative strength ten times that of steel. On this glorious deep clean Friday I had mounds of household chores accomplished by 6:45am. I obviously have not been the only busy little beaver on the Ponderosa.

As the early morning dew settled to the earth, I was greeted by the sight of an amazing spiderweb on the deck overlooking my cottage garden. Intrigued by the masterpiece I was entranced by its novel beauty like an artist is drawn to a fine piece of art. Going totally against my compulsive nature to clean, I walked away from the cobweb, broom in hand to continue the cleaning bonanza going on in the house.

Later in the day I returned to the deck warmed by the afternoon sun to find no sign of the masterpiece or the artist. All things shall pass away. The treasures that truly count are seen in the blessings we share with others. A lesson this farm chick was reminded of by "The Itsy Bitsy Spider."

OH WHAT A NIGHT

Up at the crack of dawn armed with cleaning supplies this chick was a woman on a mission. This is deep clean Friday. Ya'll know how much I anticipate this day. Every corner of the house is dustless, carpets dirt-less, floors gleaming and everything that can be disinfected is void of germs. The laundry is washed, folded and hung. The dishwasher has cycled through and the dishes are resting at home in the cupboards. Oh, there is nothing quite as exhilarating as the smell of a clean house that reeks of my favored mulberry essence. But wait! There's a stinky putrid stench reaching my olfactories, a proverbial distinctive odor that makes me cry, gag, and want to toss my cookies all at the same time. Yep, it happened last night.

Around dark-thirty Hubby started to lock the french-doors before retiring to the boudoir when I heard, "I've got you now you little rascal!!!" Scantly clad in lounge shorts, he dashed to the utility room to don the barn boots, grab his gun and dart to the carport . A skunk, genus Mephitus of the Mustelidae family who are noted for the excessive development of their anal glands spraying their acrid discharge considerable distances. My job was to keep track of the carnivorous quaduped who had picked a spot to hide under our car. Wearing my Victoria's Secret lounge 'jammies and flippies, I stretched out the french-door lighting bottle rockets under the car at PePe' La Pew who was NOT going to move. Hubby was crouched behind the car aimed for the hunt when Tiger the Wonder Dog , frightened from the fireworks, runs and scoots under the car. Did I say he was the brightest canine in the neighborhood? (I have seen this before only reversed... Wonder Dog sleeping under car...enter skunk) Finally after many bottle rockets and bellows of smoke, Pepe' runs out and around the back of the house. Hubby got a shot in that left La Pew sharing an aroma at our back door (crime scene above) and hiding in a corner behind the storage shed that hosts my rock garden.

Hubby and I trailed after him like a couple of spelunkers with flashlights in hand attempting to corner the pole cat to flush him out. Hubby posed at the back of the storage building armed like the hunky warrior he is. Me? Well, I grabbed the water-hose with the power nozzle to blast the smelly cat like creature toward Hubby. Good plan, right? Think again. Somewhere during all this excitement, Pepe' out skunked us once again escaping to join his family dwelling under our abode. They have been tenants prior to the Fourth of July. Not because we haven't exhausted our resources trying to evict them. Admitting defeat, Hubby and I entered our skunk christened home lighting candles as we ventured in. Yep, it's all spotless as the potpourri pot simmers and the candles flicker. I'm gonna' grab a tall glass of tea and take a long summer break because, "Oh What A Night!!!"

YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL

Oh, what a beautiful Ozark summer day. The sun is shinning bright as a brand new penny fresh out of Fort Knox. I have been attempting to complete deep-clean Friday without getting pulled outside by distractions like this beauty. Far beyond the sounds from the dishwasher washin', washer vibrating, dryer hummin' and Jaws the Vacuum sucking up everything in it's path is this genus of plants noted for its showy flowers.

This particular giant plant reaches it's 11" tropical blooms to the top of my carport. Waving it's countless paper thin brilliant flowers like a delicate chiffon skirt rippling in the breeze, calling me to throw down my dust-cloth
and soak up this glorious day. A gentleman stopped by the other day passing out literature and exclaimed as he exited his car, "My gosh woman ...what do you feed this hibiscus???

I'm coming. I'm coming to bask in the day and enjoy the sweet fragrance produced by the deep green foliage and splendid blooms of the gardens God has blessed me with. I'm on my way to soak in some rays and dance in the beauty because "You Are So Beautiful" to me!

HERE I AM STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU

House to the left of me, lawn to the right and here I am stuck in the middle with you. OK, I changed some of the words to protect the innocent but you get the message. I always mow my green acre on Thursday but it rained. I am not talking a little shower here, it poured 4. 7/10" of H2O on the Ponderosa yesterday. This leaves me once again doubled up on my projects donning the super-chick power cape.

I arose at 4:50 am to get started on deep clean Friday scrubbing, dusting and executing all the extras I do on this day. I know, I probably have a problem. Maybe I should sign myself up for a self-help group like Crazed Cleaners Anonymous but I enjoy cleaning. I find it quite soothing . By 9:30am , house in order and clothes tumbling in the dryer, I set off to mow my soggy thicket. It's a two hour mow no matter how I go about it. With full throttle down, by noon I am back in the house dryer humming, pork-chops soaking in their spicy rub and auto-pool cleaner rhythmically tap dancing in the pool. This is when it happens.

I pass by a window and see this deciduous crape myrtle (lagerstroemia incica) waving its big showy clusters at me like a prom queen on a float. Having OCFD ( Obsessive Compulsive Flower Disorder) I find it impossible to resist the dynamite fuchsia crinkly petals that beckon me to join it. Yes, I know, I should be medicated but I love my life. So "HERE I AM STUCK IN THE MIDDLE WITH YOU" thanking God every day for his beauty and this life He has given me. Enjoy this day, I'm Gonna'!!!

GLORY DAYS or GLORY DAZE ?

Constantly looking for their next meal they will starve in a few hours if not fed continuously. Their voracious appetite allows them to consume their body weight in fat tasty morsels in a twenty-four hour period. No gals, I am not talking about your hungry hubbies or even your growing teen sons unless they are digging 200 feet a day to consume up to 200 sawfly cocoons as their preferred delicacies. A mole has launched an attack on my rose garden. These little soldiers dig five inch subways in a crisscross zig-zag manner destroying root systems and zapping the life out of a rosebush faster than Obama can say, "I should have chosen my words more carefully!" This being deep-clean Friday puts me in a huge dilemma.

As a compulsive neat-freak workaholic and thinking I'm super chick, I will throw on the old cape and ..."gett'er done!" Yep, this action adventurer can repair the rose garden and clean every crevice in my house in a day. First, I tackled the rose garden digging on my hands and knees for three and a half hours like a dog looking for his treasured bone. Next, I entered the house armed with a vacuum and a dust cloth wildly cleaning as the washer, dryer and dishwasher implemented their orders.

The climbing rose above is named Blaze of Glory. It is the beauty that lures me into my cottage garden as I try to wind down (using the term loosely) from my outrageously self-induced busy day. I sit here in a daze gazing at my healthy rose garden knowing the house is spotless nursing my battle wounds of scratches and rose briers. More "Glory Days" are ahead of me but right now I think I'll just veg out in my glorious glory daze. Good Night!

Here we go Round the Mulberry Bush

The Ponderosa hosts a Forth of July celebration each year. That means that this compulsive gal kicks into high perfection mode. Hence the lack of blogging lately. I water the lawn to a lush green shaggy carpet then mow and cross mow leaving every blade even. The flower beds are weedless and every flower has been deadheaded, watered and fed. Hamburgers, hot dogs, my famous baked beans, a decorated Forth of July cake with cooked fudge icing, homemade hot fudge and ice cream await the guests. The house both outside and in is spotless, inviting and smelling like mulberry. Anyone that knows me knows my home and everything in it wreaks of mulberry essence.

I was checking my e-mail when I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye and went to explore. Right there on my carport casually eating out of the dog dish was a teen-age skunk (not a baby nor an adult). I observed to see where the little adolescent cat like creature went when much to my amazement he scooted behind this box that covers the air ducts to our family room. The space was less than two inches wide at the base of this box. Yep, we have a skunk under our house! The last thing our party needs is a skunk charging out from under this box while everyone is filling their plates. Hubby pulled in our drive home from a hard days work when I spotted the contemptuous black and white mammals mother. I yelled to him not to set foot on the carport or he would be blessed with the evil smelling liquid they share. Devising a plan he pulled up behind the pool and entered the back door.

Yes,the man had a plan! Grabbing the shotgun he told me to go into the dinning room and make enough noise to scare the mama off the carport so he could shoot her. I did my job carefully not to frighten her too much. Again much to my amazement, the adult skunk went through the same space her teen did. I saw hubby commin' round the carport sporting his ammo and weapon looking for the creature. I told him what had happened when he looked at the space and remarked, "NO WAY!" I am faced with the realization we have a smelly little family living beneath our abode.

Thursday morning around 1:30am just two days away from the big event we were awakened by an odor that brought tears to our eyes. The kids must have had a spat directly under our bedroom. Hubby left without breakfast because the smell had upset his tummy too much to eat. I lit as many candles as possible, brought out the old potpourri pot and aired the joint the best I could. The annual barbecue and fireworks display may go perfectly but the house, well let's just say.... '' it ain't goin' smell like mulberry this year!!!''