BLUEBIRD BLUEBIRD ON MY SHOULDER

The day a newborn baby arrives a new set of parents are discovering life has given them new purpose. They become as focused on this tiny helpless creature as a hungry tiger eyeballing a rare juicy steak. A shy timid woman can instantly become as ferocious as a infuriated pit bull as she protects her young. Parenthood also affects fathers. It causes fathers who are best buds with everyone to clean the old shotgun as his daughters date arrives. (YES, HE DID!!!) The parental right to protect offspring is a common factor in both man and beast.

The eastern bluebirds nesting outside our bedroom window are raising their second brood this year. Their simple abode is nailed to a light pole that sits in the middle of a flower garden boasting bold bronze cannas, brilliant colored gladiolas and delicate balsams . I was watering the area admiring the floral bonanza when all the sudden a juvenal bluebird poked his head out of the house, took one look at me, screamed and jumped as if he was determined to commit suicide. He was mature enough to flutter his young speckled breasted body only two feet off the ground. Thinking how awful I must look to terrorize the gray little thing to that extreme and feeling responsible for the ordeal I thought I could capture the down covered escapee. That is when the protective parenting kicked in.

Out of the sky streaked a pair of turquoise bluebirds with their rusty red breasts shinning in the sun like a couple of B-52 bombers in attack mode. I stepped back to watch the clan as they chattered away like girlfriends catching up on the latest gossip. The parents flew under the fluttering fledgling gently guiding him back to the nest. I have heard of such things happening but never witnessed such a sight. "Bluebird Bluebird on My Shoulder"... not quite but I will never forget the gentle love of these protective parents.

YOU GOTTA' STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES

Today is deep clean Friday. I have been hard at it since 5:00 am this morning. The water bed has been stripped, bedding washed , slurping mattress burped and all put back together again. The tub jets are cleaned, toilet scrubbed and sinks are shinny as a sunny day. The furniture is dustless and the floors are spotless. Laundry washed, folded and hung. I have yet to take the filters out of the furnace and wash them but that is next. Did I mention it is only 8:00am??? Why, you ask? Besides the fact that I am just a little crazed when it comes to cleaning. I do this so I have the remainder of the day to enjoy my rose garden and get as dirty as a child in their first mudball fight. Time to transplant, weed and dance through my colorful gardens. Close your eyes and inhale. Enjoy today....'cause "YOU GOTTA' STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES!"

GYPSIES TRAMPS AND THIEVES

'MY BAD!!! No, I was not born in the wagon of a travelin' show nor did my Mama dance for the money they'd throw. My Papa really NEVER preached whenever he could. But me... I almost shoplifted Tuesday. It was all quite innocent. Really, I am not known as a wanted felon 'round these parts but the whole event left me totally unraveled knowing I could have walked out of the store without paying.

I was checking out my two week buyout of food and supplies at our local Walmart Supercenter. My checkout gal was not a happy camper and I was pulling out my best tricks to improve her day. Using my most cheerful voice to uplift her spirits , I helped load the bags into my basket. Nothing I did put a smile on the unhappy clerks mug. I grabbed the checkbook to pay for the goods reaching to raise my purse I saw a box of Schick Quattro titanium blades resting beneath it. Visions of security alarms went off in my head. I could just imagine my Sunday school class, grandchildren and Kids Church watching as I was handcuffed and carted off to prison. Knowing I would most certainly die incarcerated being no flower gardens to tend in the Big House, I quickly grabbed the box and tossed it to the clerk who was rolling her eyes... again!

I did not manage to place a grin on my grumpy clerks face Tuesday but the gent behind me doubled over with a big belly laugh watching the whole event. I felt a tad embarrassed as I looked behind me, the whole line was smiling and laughing. Sometimes God works in the most mysterious ways! I left the parking lot smiling myself singing "Gypsies Tramps and Thieves" all the way home.

DEVIL OR ANGEL

Meet Lucifer. He is the rubber snake my very ornery father introduced into our family many moons ago. He waltzed into our family room with a Wal-Mart bag and handed it to my soon to be daughter-in-law. Dads way of welcoming this sweet girl into the family. Since then Lucifer has been the subject of many pranks startling friends, family and salespeople alike. I have used him as a visual in Kid's Church and a decoration in several themes. His most important job is warding the barn swallows away from our carport. Messy little birds they are!

A couple weeks ago Lucifer was curled up on the car where the swallows were staking their claim from above. It was Thursday and I ALWAYS mow on Thursdays. I also always move the car to the lot behind the house where it is safe from flying objects that could be hurled from the mower.(rarely happens...but...just in case) I flung Lucifer over the edge of the carport roof, mounted the lawnmower to begin my two hour task. Don't get me wrong, I love to mow. One might say I am obsessed with it. Hey, I like my grass even. Nothing wrong with that, right?

I was sporting along full throttle down be-boppin' to the tune in my head. I had no thoughts of Lucifer or where I had flung him. Hypnotized in the mow zone, I zipped around the corner of the carport carefully mowing a strip along the path when it happened. Out of nowhere a big black snake dropped from above. I'm telling you, this chick almost lost her bladder! Body shaking, heart pounding louder than a drum and shrieking like a tree frog, I managed to stay on the moving mower......just barely.

Today I put Lucifer back in the bag and placed him on the shelf in the closet where he resides when he is not working. Next time I get him out will I use him for good or evil? Will I be a Devil or Angel? ' Just depends!!!

THE MONSTER MASH

Thick green slime the color of mossy mold mixed with clumps of lumpy brown sludge. No, not creamed spinach broccoli soup. This was the condition of my pool one week ago. You heard me, the pickiest farm chick in the Ozarks had the nastiest job in the world. This was due to one of the three tornadoes that hit the Ponderosa last spring. It came terrorizing the area with it's wrath lifting the winter pool cover, top ring and side supports from the pool scattering it randomly over the acres. I was able to retrieve the parts and use the pool last summer but it was not strong enough to endure a winter cover with the strong winds the Ozarks are blessed with.

Last Friday I began draining the smelly snot textured gunk from the pool. As the cesspool lowered, I would climb in moving the siphon hose to a deeper spot draining it as low as possible. I knew the remainder had to be bucketed. This process was going on when I spotted something in the water. I tried to examine the creature as I stood outside the bio hazard. Was it part of a snake? Oh my gosh... what had I been wading in? That green gook could contain all kinds of stuff. Undesirable creatures like the mosquitoes on steroids I had been swatting all day, satanic snakes, big warty bullfrogs, or The Lock Nest Monster!!! I grabbed the pool net and began to pull the five fingered creature out. It was Hubby's metal fishing glove. Not Locke.

I had the mess bucketed out by noon Saturday and was ready to clean the putrid stains from the liner. Using a jug of bleach, half a jug of laundry detergent and lots of elbow grease I had the pool liner it's beautiful blue self ready for the fill. This week the weather is warm, pool is crystal clear and the only Monster Mashes I will be dealing with are the oldies blaring from the radio as I enjoy my swim. Ah, summer has arrived!!!

THE CHICKEN DANCE

" The Holy Ghost Will Take the Chicken Out of You!" This song has been ringing from our Kid's Church the past quarter. I just closed out Super Sleuth lessons on the Holy Spirit by Young Explorers. It has been a difficult lesson to par down to my younger children but it has also been a fun lesson. It involved magnifying glasses, fingerprints and crimes to solve. Observing me from the outside one might conclude I am totally prim and proper. HA!!! Get me with a gaggle of children and I warp into Peter Pan shocking most adults in the room.

Last Sunday I concluded the final lesson of this series and wanted to review the material covered over the last fourteen weeks.
I was asking questions about the upper room experience with hyper bodies and little eyes glued on me. First we covered the wind blowing..."whooooooooo," wildly waving our arms in the air. Then tongues of fire appeared over everyone, wiggling fingers over our heads. " What happen next?" I asked my little crew. A very bright four year old girl excitedly raised her hand. Jumping to her feet, bouncing like a paint mixer and hyperventilating she shouted out with her most confident voice....THEN IT STORMED!!!!

Tuesday I changed Bob (the Tomato)Holmes look along with the entire Kid's Church to Camp Jesus but these young hearts will always remember their lessons on the Holy Spirit. They will sing the song. They will remember the chicken walk we performed dancing around our chairs clucking and scratching like a brood of hungry chicks while the adults in the room shook their heads and rolled their eyes. Most of all they will remember the wacky Kid's Church director that taught them the Holy Ghost WILL take the chicken out of you.

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY

The Ponderosa was jumping yesterday as we celebrated Hubby's birthday. This is the farm boy I have been married to for thirty six years. I knew he was a keeper when the sorority sisters and I had a hankering for doughnut holes one winter evening and decided to call MY boyfriend because everyone recognized this fella would do anything to make Nezzy happy. Not only did he say he would trudge through the nights snow, the moon eyed hunk went from shop to shop looking for glazed doughnut holes. Can you believe Springfield was out of the tiny treats??? Ringing the doorbell with the most salivating box of assorted doughnuts he apologized for not fetching the requested morsels. Yes, this was the guy for me!

The only thing he wanted for his birthday was the traditional angel food cake sporting creamy rich chocolate icing and a good meal. I figure this man puts up with all my quirks and obsessions while still managing to spoil me, it's the least I can do. I hit the kitchen with the gusto of a lovesick teen whipping up this luscious cake and his favorite cashew chicken dinner. Yummy!

The next three months this amazing man will endure every chance I get to remind him that he is the old one. It is custom that I lay it on thick as a triple cheeseburger as I sing," Happy, Happy Birthday Baby!!!"

WILD THING

They make my heart sing! I have actively been attempting grow a crop of beautifully vivid wildflowers beyond the dusty dirt road that runs in front of our home. This is a project that I have worked on for years. Not just a couple nor a few years but decades of hard labor in the trenches covered in dirt and sweat. Yep, decades of digging, pulling, planting and dreaming of the cascading adornment I could gaze at while cooking in my kitchen. Oh what a wonderful sight that would be. ( Is my OCFD showing?) I could imagine the comments of the people who drove by. WOW!!!

Several years ago we hired a long tall gent who sometimes helped with the cattle round-up to power wash our deck. I decided it was also the perfect day to grab my shovel to turn some dirt and seed my dream once again. This fella' was a city slicker who had moved to our rural town from the Chicago area. He spent the day stripping the dirt road off the veranda scratching his head and yelling, "HEY, WHY 'YA DIGGING HOLES ACROSS THE STREET?" Enjoying his confusion, this mud covered farm chick would just smile and wave. This gentleman was most certainly a city slicker. We all know the country is void of streets. City Slicker completed his task leaving the Ponderosa quite perplexed.

Several weeks later long tall City Slicker cornered my grown son at church asking him, "HEY, WHY WAS YOUR MOM DIGGIN' HOLES ACROSS THE STREET??? Not having a clue what had taken place, my son gave the best answer. He paused for a moment drew a long breath and said, " well...that is where mom buries the help she is unhappy with. Thus, leaving City Slicker who cued the question again last Sunday without an answer.

I now gaze out the windows enjoying my glorious wildflowers and watch the sparse road traffic enjoy the colorful display of floral variations. I am ready to show City Slicker this picture and stop the years of confused torture I have put him through. It's been fun but it is time to let him know that wild things make my heart sing.

RINGMASTER

"Come one come all, see the amazing Bucky (hubby)! Come set your eyes on the most tantalizing tasty creation ever concocted. Only one minute and forty-five seconds until you touch those luscious lips to the most decadent oatmeal your taste buds have ever latched onto." The voice riveting louder I hear, "Are you ready... ready for the most unbelievably delicious hot cereal you have eaten today?" This is a tradition that can be heard 'round the old Ponderosa every beautiful Ozark Sunday morning.

I am not sure quite sure how this wonderfully welcome tradition started but it is an event I look forward to each and every week. It all started sometime after the children flew the coop and post dairy. Hubby did not have to rise at the crack of dawn and juice the cows before attending church. For the first time in our married lives we could sleep in a little on Sunday mornings leaving me extremely rushed completing the hair make-up thing.

The blessed event I lovingly call Big Top Breakfast allows this primpy farm chick time to apply make-up while my ringmaster is orchestrating the three ring circus in the kitchen. Yep, this clown loves her Big Top Breakfast and her Ringmaster!!!

SHE ROCKS IN THE TREE TOPS

I have the most unique mockingbird that has been both pal and entertainment around the old Ponderosa over the past several years. (see Aprils archive: WAKE UP MAGGIE) I have feared she had succumbed to the harsh winter or became the delicious entree to one of the ravenous wild creatures that abide on our acres. I had spotted other mockingbirds but not my Mag. Too much time had passed. I had given up the ghost of a hope that she would return and entered step one of the mourning process. The sadness drenched the quietness of my surroundings as I pulled, dug and planted in my many flower gardens. Gazing at the spots Maggie would land to sing her repertoire while performing her own style of dance, my heart felt her loss.

Last Friday afternoon after my attempt to clean without electricity and reading everything I had compiled in my to read pile the storm cleared. The healing warmth of the sun beamed down on the wounded earth I decided to don the old 'kini to catch some rays on my iron deficient albino body. I spread the beach towel, kicked off my flippies, set the timer and stretched out letting the heat of the sun melt the storms wrath away.
Lying face down on the soft towel, timer set and flippies near my head I was in the ZONE!!!

Then I heard it! The most ranting raving chattering noise blasting from the tree at the working pens where Maggie always chose as her prime residence. I raised my head and called, " Maggie is that you???" The commotion subsided and I convinced myself I was mistaken when all the sudden I heard a soft flutter at my head. Raising my head there on the vee of my flippies sat Maggie the Mockingbird who looked me square in the eye and gave me a nod. She flew to her favorite spots to serenade me that afternoon.

This blessed beautiful morning I kissed Hubby's face good-by reminding him to earn lots of money as Maggie's melodies filled the early morning air. Lingering in my mind is the thought on how God gives us the desires of our hearts as Mag rocks in the tree tops singin' her songs letting us know MAGGIE'S BACK!!!

THAT'S THE NIGHT THAT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT IN GEORGIA

There is and old saying in the Ozarks that speaks volumes. If you don't like the weather just hang around...it'a change. This saying has held true throughout my fifty six year life. I have been in shorts preparing for a forty degree drop in a manner of a few hours. We can go from winter to summer as faster than a squirrel can change directions. With sudden temperature changes comes wildly violent storms. These storms usually consist of damaging winds, hail, heavy rain, loud thunder that voices echoes from the Gods and lighting bolts pulled toward the earth. I have never been one to do storms well. I tend to freak. My memory replays the tornado I went through when I was five. Hubby on the other hand is destined to wake up in a tree someday.

Fridays Weather Service predicted major severe storm warnings. This blessed event is not an unusual occurrence in the great state of Missouri. This storm was setting up differently we were warned. The feared monster was developing like an on land hurricane with predicted straight-line winds of 75 to 95 miles an hour and an eye. An eye??? Our storms usually do not posses vision. Knowing this and understanding our area I knew this would mean major power outages. This type-A chick kicked into gear getting this deep clean Friday rolling. Power outages on the Ponderosa means the pump in the well fails to work. Yep, you've got it no power, no water, no cleaning!!! There goes MY perfect world.

I proceeded to start laundry, run the dishwasher, clean the tub jets, save water and restock the 'frig with any form of liquid it would hold. Then just as predicted the storm pushed in with all the fury predicted. The sun hid behind the darkness of the morning sky. The bow echo shoved its big belly through bringing horrible storms consisting of everything Mother Nature had to offer. Warnings were casted fast and furious of rain, flooding, tornadoes and the unbelievable straight line winds. Reports of semis being blown off the road, downed trees, missing school roofs, buildings vanished and sadly deaths.(We had seventeen confirmed tornadoes confirmed in the area and the loss of three lives.) The 75-95 mile an hour winds did indeed show its face as promised taking the electrical poles and lines like a child snatching a forbidden cookies. My washer held a batch of whites that had just filled for the rinse cycle when the heart of my home stopped beating. They would have to wait and wait they did.

Friday evenings darkness brought the realization that we were going to be powerless for awhile. We started stringing extension cords from the generator feeding the refrigerator and freezer. First we protect the food supply. Did I mention I like to eat? We could plug in one more item and of course we chose the T.V. God. With the power outage also comes moments that would never happen with life as usual. The things we never find time for like lounging on a bench Saturday afternoon with Hubby just quietly nuzzling watching the birds feed and the cattle graze. Saturday nights light show of the lighting storm in Arkansas showing under a full moon framed with clouds. A spectacular sight that we would have never even noticed through our busyness. Sunday afternoon we were welcomed to our home with the pulses of electricity running through its veins. Everything became normal very quickly. That I am very thankful for that but I will always cherish those stolen moments the night the lights went out.