IT TAKES TWO

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OVER THE RIVER AND THROUGH THE WOODS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HAPPY TRAILS TO YOU!!!!

ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PUPPY LOVE

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

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

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


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

IT'S GROWING

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SOUNDS OF SILENCE

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"!!!