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I have attempted to write a new entry in this blog a few times since April 8.  I have thought about it quite a bit more than that. I have often envied the consistent writers i observe.  But it seems, that this writer requires times of ... what do you call it ... sequester?  Something like that. They say bloggers shouldn't blog about blogging, but.  Well, i guess i just don't care.  I'm not here for a popularity contest, but i do hope that sometimes God can use my words to give a laugh, a smile, a thought, a comfort, a peace, a wisdom, or a guffah to those who read it.  Looks like i spelled that wrong....let's see....that's supposed to be a guffaw?  Yes, the lack of squiggly red lines tells me google thinks that's correct. I think part of my problem isn't really that i don't have anything to say.  It's that i have so many things going on in my mind and my heart and my life, that i can't settle on any one thing long enough to explore it. ...

Today i ran across an article on Facebook, that caught my attention.  The headline reading something to the effect of "FINALLY, WE HAVE PROOF THAT STARBUCKS IS SATAN!" That's not what it said.  But that is what they were getting at. (I'll post a link to the real article later, so you can see for yourself.) Now, i was certainly skeptical that Starbucks had been proven to be Satan, but attention-getting headlines, get attention, and this one got mine.  I followed the link to an article published in an online magazine aimed at Christian readers, written by an author whose column title is given to the idea that she is watching out for us and warning us of what's out there. The writer of the article tells the story of a legitimately displeased Starbucks customer who had been sold two yummy coffee-based wonderments the tops of which were decorated in caramel, by an artsy barrista, one with a pentagram (it's the same star you've drawn since you were six,...

I'm not sure if i know how to say the thing that i want to say. Sometimes, i go for long spells without writing because i don't know how to share the things that i'm learning from the experiences in my life, in a beneficial lighting.  You know, in a way that doesn't come off sounding like a plea for pity. I guess everyone probably wants a little pity sometimes, some acknowledgement that whatever they are going through really stinks, a LOT!  But generally, it isn't helpful. I also don't want to sound like i'm complaining about my life in any way.  Complaining is ugly in general, and  besides that, complaining compromises the process of growth, of seeing past the circumstances, into the lessons that God can teach us through them, if we let Him. But most of the so-called troubles we go through are merely interruptions of inconvenience in our fast-paced, luxurious lives of automation. The legitimacy of our troubles can easily be brought into perspectiv...

 I had thought that the chicken coop would be entering a time of extreme chaos by now. I now have these six itty bitties and their protective mama, six of these medium bitties,    and these two big ol' bitties, who have remained unexpectedly tolerant of all the kiddos wandering around these days.... Every morning and evening and in between, when i visit my growing flock, i am re-surprised by the peace in the coop.  I'm super thankful.  Caring for chickens is great therapy for every kind of stress, and even more so when they're peaceful and happy. On Monday, i have plans to begin incubating a heavy addition to the flock population, which may indeed fulfill my chaotic expectations.  That will be fun too. This is another picture of the mama and her babies because they're beautiful. In other news, our scaredy cat has found a hiding place behind a drawer in our laundry room and does not seem to have a great desire for re...

Ever since it sunk in that my beloved Columbo, my yellow tabby scaredy cat, who i raised from a kitten, really wasn't coming home anymore, i have been keeping my internet eyes open for who might be the next feline presence in our little home. Cats are the exception.  In my home, on our wannabefarmer, we have always had a rule that everyone has a job.  Chickens lay eggs and provide meat.  Dogs protect chickens and guard the homestead.  Ducks make baby ducks for eating. Bees make honey. Crickets feed chickens.  Etc.  Etc.  Etc. But cats.  Their presence makes me happy, and so they get to stay.  And if they can do so without throwing up in the super hero's chair or going doo doo on the floor, they can stay in the house where it's warm...or cool....depending on the season, and they can frolic in the woods as they wish. While we were still in Michigan, i saw a post from someone local who was looking for a country home for a mama...

On the morning of Friday, February 21, hubby and i set out on the long trip home from our visit to my family's home in Michigan.  We had gotten a somewhat late start and were on the freeway for only a few minutes when we stopped at a gas station to gas up and get refreshments and a few souvenirs to take home. We weren't in a huge hurry, and i guess we were in the gas station a little longer than your average gas station visit, and when we were finished and attempted to get back on the freeway to head home, there was a police officer and his vehicle blocking the entrance ramp, pointing in some direction other than the way we wanted to go, and yelling, "go that way!" Since we aren't exactly native Michigandians, or Michiganders, or whathaveyou, we didn't have a clue where we were headed, and blindly followed the other redirected hoards of cars, while i frantically inquired of gps on my cell phone, to try to find the best the back road route, from wherev...

One of the things that impressed me while i was visiting my folks, is how beautifully organized my mother is. She's not organized in the creepy way you see in docudramas about disturbed people or anything.  But really organized.  I noticed when i was looking for a plate or something and saw that the inside of her cabinet was pretty .  Not just stacked nicely.  It was pretty .  "Where, oh where, are my pretty cabinet genes?" They have to be in there somewhere, don't they? When i came happily home to the happiness of a non-snowy Texas winter, i was disappointed that i was disappointed when i walked into my own house -- because my mom's is SO much better.  Well, not her house exactly -- although my parents do have a pretty awesome house, and finished basements are great!  But, what i mean is, she just really keeps a nice house, and i'm kind of jealous.  She's really really good at this stuff.  And i'm....well, not as much. Happily, at the e...