Saturday, June 22, 2013

Day Lilies

Two years ago we planted some Day Lilies.

Imagine our surprise when this year they just grew and grew.

and grew!!!!

They are around 5 feet 8 inches tall and the blossoms are 8 inches across.

PLUS, we have a RED one this year.

It's not as tall as the others - only about 3 feet tall.

Not sure where it came from - wasn't there last year!

They are beautiful!

I am so thankful I can see them from the kitchen and living room windows!

Thursday, June 13, 2013


Made a short trip to Oklahoma to see my parents - then on to Weatherford to see my youngest son.  

The wheat is getting ripe but my Dad didn't plant much this year. My brother will help him out again. Not really enough for me to go down to help. 

My brother and I were raised in this environment of farming.  Working the ground. Planting the seeds. Harvesting the wheat. It's a crap shoot at best. I've been told all my life (not by my Baptist Father - but others) the biggest gamblers you will ever meet are wheat farmers. I agree. 

Being the girl, once I was an adult I married and went another direction. My brother, though has always lived close to my Dad and Mom and it falls on him to help every harvest season. My Dad is "tight" - to put it mildly and my brother does this work for "free" - If helping parents is something you expect compensation for. - Other than the whole feeding and raising for 18 years! : )  - Then once I moved back in the area, I helped several summers. Not sure it relieved my brother any - but I did my best.

The thing is, loving the land isn't as simple as it sounds. There are many layers in loving the land. True, sincere loving the land comes from sweating and bleeding in that soil. It comes from taking a chance year after year. It comes from listening to the storms rolling in and praying your crop is safe. It comes from repairing and sweating - and again bleeding over the old equipment.

Being proud of my Dad and his constant risk taken year after year is one of the ways my brother and I love that land. We help, but we don't have the love of it that causes us to take that yearly gamble with all we have. We love that our Dad has given us a heritage of "land." But when we (and I really mean my brother more than me) but when we sweat and bleed in this soil, it's because we love our Dad and all that he stands for. We respect the land, we respect our Dad's work on that land. But to give all I have to take a chance on a living isn't in me. 

I greatly admire people  who truly sincerely have this love.

I am proud of my Dad and all he stands for as a wheat farmer. He truly LOVES the land, not just ownership. Not just being an overseer. Not just having his name on a deed but he actually loves that land.

I'm proud of my brother and all he stands for as the son of a wheat farmer. He loves Dad and therefore, respects his land and all it stands for.

There are many layers of "Loving the Land." I don't want to take for granted all that my forefathers did for me in "loving the land" - inside their layer. - Or my Dad's layer. - or the layer my brother and I live in. It's all important. It's all a part of living off the land. Living on the land. 

It is a gamble. 

It is also a heritage.

San Antonio

We made a short run to San Antonio. Mostly to enjoy the history there. I will admit, being married to someone who loves history works to my advantage. While touring The Alamo, I not only got to listen to their audio history but The Husband filled in many spaces they left out.

He's always quick to point out - at any historical place - "This is their version."  Which always (well often if not always) makes me think of my life and wishing once I'm gone my history could be told in "my version." I'm sure I would be correct more often, kinder than the truth and much much more slender!!!

We did the walking tour of the historical district and read the history of each house.

One of my favorite areas - the Market Place - 
had some great food for dinner there.

Loved the river ride.

My favorite part of the trip was - as always - 

getting home!

Monday, June 3, 2013

Hey, A Girl Needs Her Private Time!

No matter your age, having some alone time is always a necessity.

Let me set this story up for you...

Garage Sale week my oldest daughter and her two girls came to help and to sell outgrown kids toys, clothes and all kinds of useful stuff.

A full week with these girls is more than F.U.N.

We spent much of the first evening out in the playhouse.

At one point, they were running around the yard and I 
noticed the youngest went to the playhouse and went inside.

So, I quietly went down to snap some pictures.

She went inside and sat down.

She noticed me,

Stood up -

and shut the door!