I SHOT THE SHERIFF

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

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!

'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

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)

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)!!!