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I like holidays. I do. I like seeing family and enjoying good food and the celebration of being alive and so forth and whatnot. And i like it even more because i know that God likes celebration.  Every time you turn around in the Bible, God is designating another holiday.  He's cool like that. Thing is, i think we do too much celebrating and not enough consideration of why we're celebrating. God's model for celebration often starts with fasting -- then feasting.  The fasting time, for getting your heart in the right place and realizing what it is you celebrate, and so on. I find it interesting that the two American holidays which mark the deaths of those who gave their lives for our freedom, are taken the most casually, often with hamburgers and hot dogs and swimming pools, but rarely with any consideration for what it is we often fail to hold dear.  Our freedom. I heard a speech by a man i'd never heard of, this week.  His name is Dennis Prager ...

The news stinks lately, doesn't it? It seems like pretty much every other day, there is a report of some horrible disaster, seemingly ruining the lives of hundreds or thousands of people, and those reports seem to be closer to home lately.  It's really too much to comment on, or i would be posting every ten minutes about the newest news item. It might be easy to think, for some, that God's not paying any attention. Recently, i've wondered if God was ignoring me when i asked for things completely unrelated to floods or tornadoes.  Just personal stuff. Then i had an unusual reminder that He's listening to every little thing. This is going to seem like i'm side-tracking, but i'm not. When i was a little girl, i recall having board-straight hair.  With the exception of a very unfortunate cow-lick in the off-centered middle of my forehead, not a wave in sight.  Neither a wave to be found in my family gene pool that i could see.  But still, as a teenag...

The news stinks lately, doesn't it? It seems like pretty much every other day, there is a report of some horrible disaster, seemingly ruining the lives of hundreds or thousands of people, and those reports seem to be closer to home lately.  It's really too much to comment on, or i would be posting every ten minutes about the newest news item. It might be easy to think, for some, that God's not paying any attention. Recently, i've wondered if God was ignoring me when i asked for things completely unrelated to floods or tornadoes.  Just personal stuff. Then i had an unusual reminder that He's listening to every little thing. This is going to seem like i'm side-tracking, but i'm not. When i was a little girl, i recall having board-straight hair.  With the exception of a very unfortunate cow-lick in the off-centered middle of my forehead, not a wave in sight.  Neither a wave to be found in my family gene pool that i could see.  But still, as a teenag...

This weekend, i re-homed my beloved rooster, Rocky;  i brought home my new beloved kitten, Columbo; and i started a new batch of chicks in the incubator. I'm exhausted, and speed does not come easily, this early Monday morning. But i find it so much easier to cope with the Monday morning exhaustion when my weekend was well-spent. Happy Monday!  and Hallelujah!

When i was a girl, i oft had a cat for a pet. Cats and i get along pretty well. During the beginning of my marriage, when sometimes it was rocky, i would go to the local pet store and pet kittens for therapy. Lately, in the absence of a cat on the homestead, i've been wanting one.  It has been more than a year since our Stanley disappeared, and i have been wanting a kitty.  Just for having sweetness around.  So i started looking and found a potential kitten not too far from our house. I brought him home yesterday afternoon and named him Columbo.  'Cause that's a good name for a cat. Initially, Columbo was afraid of every movement and every noise and would hide from us and cry and be a very unsociable kitty. But then, possibly by divine inspiration, we helped him associate canned herring with us, and he has become a much more cuddly kitty.  It's amazing what transformations can be made through the appetite. Columbo has taken up residence in our bath...

When i was a little girl, i remember seeing on tv - or having general knowledge - about little children in different areas of the world, where there was not enough food and/or there was little food coupled with communist rule.  Or whatever horrible plight.   I understood that my spirit was not defined by my body, and i often wondered why my spirit got to be born into this body and in this time, a body that lives in the United States, that gets plenty to eat, that has kind loving parents, that doesn't get beaten or abused by Nazis or Communists or Fascists, or whathaveyou.  I remember often thanking God for allowing me to have such a horror-free life.  I probably didn't say it exactly that way when i was six, but nonetheless. . . This morning, while i was preparing my breakfast and taking those first luxurious sips of my freshly brewed coffee, i thanked God and then wondered again.  Why me?  Why do i get to have it so good ?  When so very many have ...

This is me.  Bragging on my awesome husband, who has set out to grow tomatoes in Texas.  What's the big deal?  You've grown tomatoes in Texas?  Well, we haven't. And not too many have.  And we're pretty proud.  Isn't she beautiful??!!!! Earlier in the year, my Hoe-slingin' super gardener, invested in multiple varieties of tomatoes that were bred and/or touted to grow well i our area, where the sun is hot, and the rain will either wash you away or not come at all.  We have lots of different tomato plants.  I'm sure you'll get to see them later in the summer, but this one is the most impressive - an early producer, and i thought i'd share.   Incidentally, i have no idea what kind of tomato it is, but if you're interested, i'll try to find out. We already have one beautiful red tomato on our counter, waiting to be devoured, and it smells SO good. O.k., enough bragging for now. Over and out.