Harvest Prayer

Ah Lord, let it be--
that my life yield such a gold,
abundant harvest!

Pistol Pete

That's the dog's name. Every morning he gets to walk a mile with his faithful owner, who is partially blind. Whenever the dog sees me coming, he sends out a yelp and begins to tangle his chain with the wild hope that I will stop to pet him. If I do, however, he jumps up and puts his front paws on my chest.

That's why the previous owner--a three year old boy--gave him to my neighbor, the mile-a-morning man. I think I could cure the dog of this disconcerting jumping habit by stepping on his hind toes every time he jumped on me, but I don't want to upset the status quo, so I'll leave him ignorantly in his misconceptions of what people like as dog behavior.

Being Specific

On Thursday morning, I had the following conversation with my six-year-old grandson as we ate breakfast at my house:

Zaya: Syrup on scrambled eggs is really good, Grandma. Want to try some?

Me: No thank you, Zay, I'm dieting and trying to avoid eating sugar.

Zaya: Oh. Well then what about fructose? (Pointing to my orange juice.)

Me: I'm not avoiding that. I'll eat fruit.

Zaya: Well what about lactose? (looking at the coffee creamer)

Me: I guess what I should have said was, I'm trying to avoid sucrose.

Zaya: Oh right. Ok.


He keeps me on my toes.

An Old Stump

Do you have an old stump in your yard? The kind that will take a fortune and a steam shovel to uproot? Well, I have an inexpensive solution for you. Turn it into an impressive, nature-coordinated flower pot.

Why I Rarely Take the Camera on Early Morning Walks...

...because they turn into early morning meanders.

Storm Clouds In the South

This evening I noticed a puffy thundercloud away to the south, so Turtle and I, having no obligations because of the holiday, drove out to the countryside and took pictures as the sun dropped down out of sight. We managed to get most of the sky, the evening light, background wheat, and even an old barn or two.

Green and Gold

I can't stop taking pictures of the wheat...in the early morning or the evening.

Everywhere there's gold, and everything's "geared up for harvest". Farm machinery has all been oiled, cleaned, and tested. The combines stand on freshly mowed grass beside the barns and hay bales, like a row of horses faunching at their bits.

Right now, for a few breathless days, the grain elevators stand tall and empty. The railroads only used in June are cleared and waiting for their annual carloads of grain.

Farming families are all taking this Memorial holiday very seriously. They are resting frantically before the busiest time of their year, rushing to the lake, to Branson, or to shop in the city. While they are gone, I gaze along beside the road, and stop in lonely places to take pictures of their wheat. If you look closely into the golden fields here, you can see a few bands and skimming hues of green. That too must fade to white under the high hot summer sky. Then will come the sound of trucks and combines...the sprinkle of spilled over grain along the highway...train whistles...dust in the air...shouts and sweat...harvest!

Why Americans are Fat!

We stopped at a restaurant in the Ozarks: Lamberts, home of the "throwed rolls".

I ordered smoked porkchops, mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and water. they brought the meal to me in a huge skillet and kept bringing free extras--fried okra, black-eyed peas, and grits--to the table. In addition, a boy with a basket of freshly-baked rolls kept throwing them to the customers as fast as they could consume them. He was a pretty good shot, and a good judge of catching abilities-- pitching lightly to the old ladies and spinning straight shots clear across the room toward the mitt-sized hands of young men whose smiles demanded a challenge. Nobody dropped a roll--while I was watching anyway--and, as if the rolls weren't scrumptious in themselves, or the butter on the tables not enough to take them to the next day's calorie intake limit, another young man promptly supplemented it with scoops of sorghum/molasses, which he loudly proclaimed as he carried the bucket from table to table.





Connie ordered a chef salad, because she wanted a light meal. Look at this thing!
It's enough to feed a family! Needless to say, she didn't finish it. Instead, we got a carry out bag and took it to the lodge, where she ate more for supper, and for breakfast and lunch the next day. Finally, it froze and at that point it became tossed salad.

My point is: Arrrgh!

Senior Trip Scenery

We stayed in beautiful scenery for our senior trip--Southern Missouri. The lodge where we lived for a week was fully furnished--all the dishes and basic groceries in the kitchen, pool table, family movies,even a Wii in the den. It was less expensive than renting hotel rooms and much better suited to our schedule.Six bedrooms, six bathrooms, fireplace, screened-in eating porch, washer/dryer--it was a dream house. On top of that, our seniors were amenable and pleasant to be with.
I thoroughly enjoyed myself. That's not to say I would do it again next week: I'm home for the summer and glad to be here.

Here are some of my favorite shots of the scenery. I took them while walking.

On the road, I was either riding along--carsick and closing my eyes, or driving cautiously with both hands on the wheel while the impatient natives formed an angry line behind me. Let's just say I'm a true child of the plains:

I think that curves--while beautiful--are disconcerting and may be treacherous. Hmmm.

Can You Tell My Grandchild Took This Picture?

Senior Trip

There were actually more parents and sponsors than students on the senior trip, or should I say there were two kinds of seniors--a serious group and a silly group.

Here are a couple of the silly seniors posing at Lamberts--home of the "throwed rolls"

Ominous but Beautiful

This evening we had beautiful weather here, cool, but not cold. We gathered with close friends to partake of grilled burgers and more trimmings than the counter could hold, talking about grandchildren, and grandparents and quilts, flowers, furniture, llamas, and the weather...always the weather.

To the south was brilliant, sunlight sky...just a few loose puffs of cloud. But to the north a storm was brewing. I stood in the same spot to take these pictures. Quite a difference, I would say. Thankfully, this storm missed us, but I hear
there was baseball sized hail not far from here.

Tomorrow I depart for senior trip--and the lovely hills of southern Missouri.
I pray for no storms...of any kind.

More Good Intentions

Because of "end of the year" school activities, I've not had enough time with the grandchildren, so they came over yesterday for a while. We strolled up to see the goats at the edge of town. Last year they approached the fence and ate the weeds we offered them. This year they just kept munching grass and ignored us. Zaya and Mim were patient for a while, but they finally gave up, so disappointed they came straight back to the house and retreated to their toy buckets. We only stopped a few times along the way for important stuff--like catching bugs for the bug jar, and playing with the helicopter seeds under somebody's mimosa tree.

Well at least we had good intentions.

For our "end of the year" party yesterday we had planned to go to Norman and help the Salvation Army clean up after the recent tornado. We arrived at school in boots, jackets, old jeans, work gloves and baseball caps--all swathed in sunscreen, carrying crowbars and magnets. We were ready to work. We were prepared for tetanus shots. They called all the teachers into the workroom at 8:15.

Problems. It was pouring rain in the city and nobody wanted a crew of kids and their chainsaw-wielding dads to descend upon the wreckage in the slippery mud...especially if there was a chance of lightening. So we all came up with ideas. Surely somebody needed us. But every phone call we made led to a dead end. It was frustrating, to say the least...especially for the students, who had been excited about helping.

There was another problem also: Lightening had struck the pumps at the COOP and there was no gas for the bus. We would probably be able to make it to the next town for fueling, but there was no guarantee of that. Do we risk it and go to the park?

So the students watched a movie and played in the gym. I worked on the senior slide show for the graduation and finished averaging all my grades for the year. This is the earliest I've ever finished them. Good thing though, because I'm going on senior trip Monday. Yikes, I need to do all my laundry!

Anyway, I was proud of the students. They took it all in stride, and with all those boots it was some stride!

Sophomores and a Seven Mile Hike

This is what they looked like at the beginning of the hike--almost running. It's a lovely day, cool, brisk, perfect for a long hike and so preferable to sitting in desks...















Halfway through the hike. Some took the wrong trail, but they arrived here in time for the all important class picture.
















The trip home. I think the hike was a little more strenuous than they thought it would be. Ah well. They are young. This little nap will restore all the energy they lost.

I feel spoiled...

Long hours at school without a break...the year is almost over.
Just when I was feeling harried, harassed and haggard, three great blessings came my way:

First, a good friend and the mother of a couple of my students volunteered to help me catch up with my pile of ungraded papers...which has been going through an untidy and unmanageable growth spurt. She worked for hours and inspired me to get everything graded--up to today's turn-ins. Blessings on her!

Second, the home economics class invited us to eat a home-baked lasagna meal in the library. Since it was their quarter test, they outdid themselves: settings! candles! waitstaff!

Third, when I finally straggled home, my husband had grilled a steak for me. It was just perfect--not too done. I felt like a grand dame.

Only one unfortunate thing happened today. I had a bad fall.

I fell off the top of my "no sugar" diet and landed in a chocolate cheesecake.
Alas!

Yesterday the Wheat was Green...Today it Started Golding.

I couldn't believe it, but sure enough, this morning on the way to school I saw the sun break forth in golden promises and coax the wheat to glimmer back. This evening as I meandered home--late and tired, but not too weary for wonder--I stopped to take some pictures of this gilded overglow.

Tornado Watch?

We're supposed to be under a tornado watch until 10:00 p.m. but there really isn't much to watch. The horizons are foggy with dust. The sun still shines on the rippling wheat.
What you can't see, however, is the wind. It was lifting me off my feet as I took these pictures, and driving home today was not very easy, as the wide side of the suburban kept getting buffeted. Our plan for tonight was to visit our son's music program...but that county is under a watch also, and the miles between here and there, while beautiful, are also desolate so we are not going to brave it. I guess we will sit here at home, wash clothes, and grade piles of papers...unless, of course a tornado swoops in and blows them all into the next county, which, at this point, would probably not be too unwelcome.





I tried to take a video of rippling wheat--green and supple. If it makes you seasick to watch, I apologize in advance. Believe me, I had to have "sea legs" to stand there filming it.

...For a Mom Who Read to Us

Thanks God,
for a Mom who read to us--
showed us Daniel, fearless in Babylon;
Jorli, alone in the white, cold Alps;
read us Little Pilgrim's Progress,
Christian and Faithful on the perilous path.

We heard about Ruth and Esther and Joseph
About Joan of Arc and Pollyanna, the glad girl.

"Oh Please," we'd cry, "Just one more chapter!"
thus begging our way through many a book--
through Hiawatha's lyrical childhood,
down the Highwayman's "ribbon of moonlight" road,
into dark Sherwood with Robin Hood.

We listened to songs of Arabian Nights,
Heard about King Arthur and his friends:
Lancelot, Merlin, and righteous Galahad!
Dragons! Damsels! Mighty Men!

She taught us courage!
Our slumber was brave,
and our dreams intrepid!

Thanks, God.
Thanks, Mom.