Posts

Creamsicle with Whiskers

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The attached photo is misleading. This post is actually about a stray cat residing out back in the barn, but I can't get close enough to 'her' to get a good picture. Why did I choose to post a photo of yummy Creamsicles? Let me tell you the story. The old barn has housed many a stray cat. Most check in for a night or so then keep on moving along. We normally don't see them again. I'm sure some have homes with heat, food, and hopefully lots of loving but despite what they have, they like to wander. Go on an adventure, then head back home for a while before going back out around the neighborhood or, in our case, back out around the fields and old barns. Last year we really took to a particular stray. Every time I would see him, I would hurry to feed him in hopes he would stay around a little longer than before. It usually worked. It got to the point where he would come up from the barn to a certain tree. Then sit there until I brought food out to him. Eventually he di

The Mitten Drawer

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I recently posted a feature about two of my old cupboards all decked out for Christmas, pointing out my love for such intriguing pieces of furniture with nooks and crannies meant to hold special little treasures. More often, special to just me. This morning, with the outside temperature in the single digits, I went to a drawer in one of those cupboards. It is a deep drawer. One of two. It is the one I go to often during the winter. That is because it is full of mittens. Well, not really anymore. Mittens were the intended occupants but that has changed over the years. I didn't realize how much that has changed until I pulled it open and was greeted by a hodgepodge of odds 'n ends of stuff. It was mostly all warm stuff. Like scarfs and gloves. A few woolen socks. A few hats. Knitted hats. But hardly any mittens. Matching mittens, that is. There were quite a few of those small, stretchy black mittens that you can even buy at the grocery store which I always find convenient. That i

The Wild Asparagus Christmas Tree

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Off in the field just outside our back door wild asparagus plants grow. I've cooked a few spears and somewhat enjoyed them. But the real enjoyment of having them as neighbors is watching them throughout the year. As autumn draws to a close, they turn a colorful canary yellow as shown in the 2nd photo. Those wild asparagus plants endure all sorts of weather. The field where they live is wide open to all the elements so when the wind howls, they take a beating. Sometimes they end up flat on the ground. Sometimes they lose lots of their ferny. Sometimes in winter they get buried in snow. Or covered in ice and lose more of their ferny. Spring rainfalls can get treacherous. If the wind picks up, I hesitate to look over in that field, not wanting to see if they survived. So far, so good. One morning a few weeks ago I looked out and discovered it had snowed overnight. A winter wonderland was in place, even on those wild asparagus plants. With my winter gear on and phone for photos in my h

Old Cupboards at Christmastime

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  Old cupboards, like two of mine I am featuring in this Post, have always intrigued me. With drawers and shelves and files, they offer so many options for storing stuff, displaying stuff and hiding stuff. Better yet, stories of long ago are in the drawers, on the shelves and in those files. You just have to listen. And when it is Christmastime, those old cupboards become even more intriguing once they are dressed in twinkling lights or Santas or fresh greenery, candy canes, old crocks, Holiday art and decorations.  I stumbled upon the smaller cupboard at a place opening up several years ago. They were taking items on consignment. At that time, I was just beginning to dabble in art, using mostly markers and having no clue what I was doing. Looking back, I am so glad I went. While the owner did end up taking a few of my pieces, it was a simple cupboard off in a corner that made my day. Of all the stuff in that place, I felt that little cupboard was mine even before I took a closer look.

The Little Tree Off in a Field

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  I noticed the little tree set off in a field whenever I'd go by. Despite the weather, there it would be glowing in shades of gold. Seemingly so proud to be out there with the bigger trees behind him. Standing there as tall as he could, straight as a pin, spreading his beautiful branches as if to say, "Welcome Fall. Welcome Everyone. Enjoy your day." It dawned on me how happy the little tree was to be there. Happy to be feeling the wind and the sun. Embracing the rain. Enduring the wind. Watching the critters run around and the cars go by. In some ways, the little tree is actually the tallest tree in that field. It has nothing to do with his height. It has everything to do with his presence. With his roots buried firmly under the ground, his leaves getting ready to fly away like grown children departing the nest, he stands assured. No frills. No pretenses. Proud of the bark and branches and leaves and roots he comes from. Proud of the stories they tell. Respectful of th

I Kept Thinking of Nellie Olsen

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  The other day I stopped at an Amish farm I’d driven by many times. It had nothing to do with their roadside stand. It was because an Amish woman at another roadside stand told me that one of the three Amish men on their local school board lived there. She told me this after I voiced my curiosity about Amish schools. I explained I liked to write stories. Some for children. Some for adults. I told her I had an idea for a new storyline which included an Amish community. A particular character was the Amish teacher. I asked her if it would be possible for me to visit an Amish school. That’s when she told me about that Amish farm where that Amish man on the school board lived. I never did tell her I had been wanting to visit an Amish school for years. New storyline or not. So, the other day when I finally stopped at that Amish farm, the Amish man on the school board was home. He was more than kind. A half hour later I was parking my car off the road, in front of the Amish school I had per

Handmade Friends

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  For at least ten years now these two handmade friends have been getting together in anticipation of and to celebrate Halloween. In a way, they are related. The decorated gourd maker is the daughter of the brown paper bag pumpkin maker. The brown paper bag pumpkin maker was in kindergarten when he created his paper bag pumpkin. Whatever the handmade decorations made by little ones at home or at school happen to be, they weave their way back on to shelves or Christmas trees or tabletops when the appropriate season calls them out of wherever they were put to rest up for their particular season or holiday to come around again. After all, they have a very important responsibility. They just don't sit on a shelf or inside an old crock as reminders of a holiday. They sit there as reminders of the little hands that made them; a young imagination on full speed, using little scissors and glue if necessary and crayons and pencils; possibly glitter and cotton balls, even pipe cleaners when n