... but I've got my pistol?!

It's these spring mornings when I most often think of my mother. She loved spring like a dog loves a bone. She started checking all her plants, uncovering her Irises feet and could hardly wait to get her work clothes on and her hands in the dirt.
When we were kids, when she would let them, my brothers would cut the grass. Now mind you, this wasn't a little square of sod in a "city" yard. We had about two and half acres and there was a huge hill in front about the size of a football field. The kind of yard you must go side-to-side to cut because it's too steep to go up and down. Mama was the lawn mower purchaser most of my life, in her later years she went to key start models.  She wasn't crazy about waiting for someone to get there to start her mower.  Probably well into her sixties and because she wasn't blessed with great physical strength, she would call one of us to come over and crank her lawn mower. When it was my turn, she always commented "I don't know how you are that strong" (I got that from the Hicks side of the family by the way)  I would finish my iced tea (made fresh at 6 a.m.) and whatever she had prepared for my breakfast) and head into my own day.
Mama always remembered her children's food preferences. If Steve was coming, it was piping hot coffee and if she had any ham or sausage on hand she made sure he had plenty. If it was Crant, there was gravy made for biscuit sopping. For me, she made iced tea and "toasted in the oven, open face cheese toast" my favorite.
To say my mama was independent was laughable. I often marvel at how ahead of her time she was and lest I forget, my daddy who was quite comfortable in his manhood and not threatened by her drive, tenacity and ambition. He was the one who always told me, "You are smart and can do whatever you want in life"... "There is nothing holding you back."  (When if he had his druthers would probably have chosen for mama to remain at home and not work outside the home.) A choice I'm sure he knew was futile to discuss.

Mama was only fifty-two when daddy died. Now as I sit facing my sixtieth birthday soon, I realize how young she actually was. Daddy and the boys hunted all my life, guns were a part of our home, as they were about every other home as well. Now that mama was alone, she always made sure she had her 38 with her everywhere she went outside the community.  So here is my mama, gray-haired and slender built, slightly rounding shoulders from osteoporosis with this long-barrel 38 tucked under her seat and she wasn't afraid to use it.
She would long to see her sister who lived in Pensacola and I would get a late night call, "I'm heading to Pensacola in the morning, I need to see my sister" "I've got my 38, I'll call you when I get there".. Of course there were no cell phones then. We all had our reservations about her traveling alone but.. what do you do? That's just who she was. Arguing would have been a complete waste of time and energy, even though she would have nodded agreeably, hugged you because she appreciated the concern but literally would have laughed in your face. If you offered to go with her and she didn't want company, she would kindly decline you.
Her mother died when she was five and her sister six, she lived out her childhood with her daddy, who she loved fiercely. She walked to the creek and hauled water as a five year old, walked the two miles to church every Sunday, tidied dirt floors when they lived in a tent for a while and had cared for herself all her life. Driving 300 miles to see her sister? Calm down people, the car is doing most of the work, she would say.
So, on this spring day it's my "snuggle Thad day." I get baby snuggles from a sweet baby named after my daddy and a precocious little girl who loves to wear "ip" stick and go to the store for stickers.
I will teach them all how to uncover the Iris feet to assure us of more blooms. We will smell the sweet shrubs that came from mama and daddy's yard, watch the birds at my feeders and laugh. We will laugh alot. One of the boys and I are planting multi-colored carrots this year and we will take walks and have our hands in the dirt. We will hold hands, read books and I hope one day they will remember all these things from childhood fondly.
They are smart, funny and strong like their Grandaddy Hicks, Uncles Crant & Steve and their Honey. My brother still has that 38 long barrel and I'm betting one day it's passed down to a grandchild who will carry it on long trips of their hearts desire, alone. Because that's who they are too.

The Master of muddy lakes.

It's a rainy day, a lone bird calls through the trees, there's lots to do but I'm thinking some of it may not happen. The trees are bare of leaves, the grass is brown and today, the lake is very muddy. Rain fell hard most of the night and more is promised today. I like sunshine. I guess I'm a true southern girl, I thrive on sunshine and heat. Intense, a-little-sweat-on-your-brow heat. I love it!
That muddy lake though, I watch the water trickle in from the bank. The surface is smooth and all the messy, nasty mud is swirling underneath, settling little by little, becoming a permanent part of the lake. 

There are days where everything is very clear to me- my direction, projects and goals, plans for the future. God-willing as my mama used to say. She prefaced everything she said with that statement. "God willing and if I live til spring" It's biblical you know? God doesn't want us worrying about the future. 

From Matthew 6:25-34

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 26 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?27 And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?[a] 28 And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31 Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. 33 But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

34 “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.

There are days when life is as messy and muddy as our lake is today.  It's been a difficult season of life lately. There's been life changes, new plans, health concerns, growing pains and intense losses to grieve. Some are still very fresh. There have been tears and restless nights.  

You know who isn't phased by muddy water?  Ducks. They hurry into the lake like a second grader on a field trip in spring.. with only the anticipation of  the water. They flutter their wings, tirelessly squawk at each other, chase each other around, preen their feathers and waddle out. They are totally spent from the experience but content as they rest on the bank together. 

In this season, I have retreated somewhat to spend more time in prayer and meditation, I'm finding my balance. I breathe in God's Word daily. I'm still learning, He continues to show me more. You know what I've learned? My God is the master of muddy lakes. He calms my fear, my doubts and gives me peace where pain dwells.  

I look at my life some days and see total chaos, not much direction and endless questions... God sees a plan, His complete plan for me. It has included some simplifying of life and I'm okay with that. (more on that subject later) And the trials? they become part of who I am just as the mud becomes part of the lake. Experience always shapes who we are. It changes us in ways we could never have imagined. This pain did not come from God but He will use it. 
So, for today, I may not get much done but I'm healing and growing in faith. I am content today to breathe and know without a shadow of a doubt, my God is with me.  

There will always be muddy waters in life but it's okay, because I know the Master of those waters. 

Time management and the ducks

Check this out. I found this little gem on Pinterest. It's an alarm clock that forces you out of bed, to kill the alarm you must swing your legs to the floor and put your weight on it. Why in the name of all that's good would anyone want one of these?

Technology is everywhere isn't it? From garage door openers to the programmable coffee maker and remote controls that run everything. Seriously, you could sit down in a rolling chair (who needs to walk?) and slide from one end of your home to the other turning on the ceiling fan, answering the phone, turning on the television, fireplace and never getting out of your seat!

Since that clunky old bag phone I proudly carried many years ago, the convenience of knocking out a few important calls while in route or receiving a call to pinch hit for school pick up when young moms are covered up or not feeling well, is indeed priceless. Without technology this would be a missed opportunity, right? I for one, could kiss the guy who first put a alarm and auto-start on a coffee pot. #sheerbrilliance
Waking in the morning from the smell of coffee ALREADY MADE is one of life's greatest pleasures. It's like starting your day on vacation every day. Pure heaven.

To say that life is often hectic, is an understatement. When you are saying "things will settle down after the Holidays" then you look up and it's June, something is wrong. Life it seems is getting more and more out of hand and I notice, we are allowing it.
I often think about when we were young married and had all this free time. We would sit and discuss what to watch on television, mull over current events or just sit and laugh together.
These days we spend fifteen minutes looking for our chargers, [one of us can't seem to keep up with HIS charger], return emails from the day- because we were too busy during the day, grab a quick dinner and fall into bed hoping for a good nights sleep to possibly begin the next day rested. Are you tired yet? All this activity makes my brain tired.

I'm not talking about the kind of tired where you walk into a room and can't remember what you were there for. I'm talking more like "whose house am I in and what year is this" tired. 

Then sometimes God just smacks me right in the face. After a lengthy illness my cell phone died. #theblackscreenofdeath Now I must have a new phone, because... well, someone might need me.
I remember the days when we did not run to the phone to see who's calling. You sat around on the porch lamenting over why you ate so much of Aunt Cora's pie while talking with family. If the phone rang it was seen more as an interruption of life than anything else.
I detest the new phone process.
"You should consider upgrading Mrs Crossley, you have rather old phone technology."
~You know what phones are meant to do young man? Make calls. If you will find me another one that does that, I will be very happy.
"Mrs Crossley, with an upgrade you can stream video live and sync your phone to your t.v. and refrigerator"
~Useful I'm sure but no thank you.

I took advantage of technology and ordered my phone online. Now we wait.

I was unplugged for a week... amidst this painful technologically advanced process something important started happening. Peace. I listened to a cd I haven't listened to in a very long time. One of my favorites. Take a listen here. 

Lauren Daigle, Once and for All 

I went through all the old Christmas decor, tossed the ragged and packed away the good. I've been wanting to do that forever. I sent out long overdue postcards. I piled up on the couch and read. Caught myself watching the ducks on the lake behind our home.  Don and I sat on the screen porch in the dark and talked about his day, my day and when the next camping trip may happen. I looked through cookbooks for something new and exciting to cook, snuggled babies and kissed on a six year old while he told me of his day, all with NO distractions. There were no notification knocks of urgency, no constant calls to pull me in... Yes I managed to get to email and work as I needed. I returned phone calls as well but the distractions that happen on a moment by moment basis were gone. What began as an annoyance at not being connected soon became serenity. Those sounds agitate me now. I'm not sure if it's my age, recent losses or the state of this world but the desire for peace and quiet far outweigh the desire for connection.

I have a shiny new phone now. Guess what? It makes calls even though it was made back in 2014. [Apparently, people can hardly wait to pay massive amounts of cash to have the newest phone technology, only to be upstaged in six months by the next new phone.] Good luck with that. I have no plans of adding all those distractions back to my life. I may be missing a few things as they happen but I think I will muster through.

If it's important, I urge you to use your words and contact me or maybe not? You may be leaving distractions behind as well. Technology is great but there are limitations to it's usefulness.

If you need me, I'll be on the porch watching the ducks. 

Thursday Thoughts with Buttons... Mornings.

Each morning the first thing we do is go where the "Flyers" are. I wear a leash where my hooman doesn't get lost. Oh, I do something she likes before we go out. It's called "sit?" I put my backside on the floor and for some reason it makes her so happy. She rubs my head every time and tells the Old Gray One I'm smart.
Hoomans do not take long to train, you have to be consistent and patient with them. My hooman wears this raggedy old housecoat outside, so embarrassing.  I hope no one sees us. It's early though, I think we are safe.
I do my relieving quickly but it's all the smells that get me. I mean seriously, do you smell all this stuff?  Someone was here since last night. Who was it? Was it the Flyers? I do not trust those Flyers, they sit in the trees and seem to be mocking me. They won't talk to me. They go up high where I can't watch them. [Just thinking about them makes me mad]

Smells, all the smells... HOOGE smells. They were in OUR yard and hooman seems not to care. I'm at a complete loss as to why? She even seems to like the flyers. What for? They don't bring you a ball or anything? I think they are useless.

I have two hoomans and the Old Gray One is slower, his legs seem to not work well in the mornings. It takes him longer to get up and get ready to go outside. I keep hopping around to see if he knows how to hop but he never does it. [I do not think he is very smart but he's cute and friendly] I get my ball for him too and drop it off the bed where he can fetch it. He fetches well. I tell you, so easily trained!

The flyers made me hungry this morning and we go in again. My hooman wipes the bottom of my feet where I'm comfortable. She gives me crunchy food in a shiny bowl and cool water out of the big box in the kitchen. I love cool water. Hooman takes her brown water from a machine and my ball to the outside room and she throws it for me until I sit down beside her. It's going to be a good day.

Thursday Thoughts with Buttons

When my daughter was only a little girl of four or five she begged for a cat. As parents we did our level best to avoid, deter and try to get her interested in other things (for many years.) Finally when she was  thirteen I could justify being a cat-less household no longer. There came a delicate little Siamese named Topaz, a tiny little kitten-gentle, good natured and playful.
In her later years she became "our" cat when Danielle went off to college and she made the move to our bed to sleep under my arm each night. She resided with us until her passing in 2005, at the age of 16. Along the way we gained a husky Maine Coon fellow who relentlessly traded barbs with Topaz. Then came another cat.. who finally passed away in early 2015.
We were (are) for the first time in ages a strangely "cat less" household. Cat toys still occupy little nooks and crannies around the house. One day there will be an awkward conversation around my casket.
"There's something in the casket, see it? It's beside your mom's arm. It's fuzzy"
"Oh, that's KittyWitchens Ladybug. Mother played fetch with him and the Ladybug. It was his favorite." 

I can't seem to discard those little trinkets just yet, it's like those hand prints your children made at VBS when they were small. Still have all those too. I can never decide where to store them but I have them.
I find it a fascinating part of the human condition, don't you? It's a $2 ladybug but it tells more about how much we need and were designed for love than we care to admit. Our brain rejects something for so long, because of what all sanity and reason tells us will be a huge headache in our life. There will be vet visits, cat litter to be cleaned out, behavior issues, extra work and we all know who ends up doing all the care when animals are in a household.
Then your brain ceases to work rationally, your heart takes over at the first sight, snuggle or purr of that little kitten and. . . you now own a cat.

I will admit it feels a little odd that we are cat-less these days. It's hard to mess with perfection, they were three of the very best felines ever and to be completely transparent, it took far too long to stop thinking of them. I can't even entertain the idea of another. We've spent the better part of thirty-seven years with our cat friends.

Life marches on as it has a way of doing and we have another"furry friend" of a different color! I have spoken of him before, his name is Buttons. [Short for Benjamin Button] Buttons is a ball of love and happiness wrapped up in a complex little Mini Schnauzer. He was a gift from a neighbor who loved the dog but had no time for him, with his busy schedule. On that January evening almost two years ago, he became ours and I will forever be grateful for him. He loves us both, nearly losing his mind when his dad pulls in the driveway but he is clearly MY dog. I'm not quite sure how it happens, an animal choosing it's human. Buttons hasn't eluded to any kind of system in choosing a human but I'm thinking it can't just be random? I don't know, maybe this is a subject we should explore further at another time.
Buttons is very vocal and has impressed upon me, his need to feel more involved with the day-to-day running of things. He feels since he's just turned two, it's time he contributed to the blog.

Buttons will not be tackling politics or heavy duty issues because frankly he doesn't care much about those things. He will discuss subjects closer to home- dirt, other dogs, human friends, choosing  happiness every day, home remodeling and has current fascination with creatures that fly.

Look for Buttons first contribution to the blog tomorrow.