He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. ~ Psalm 147:3

Archive for March, 2020

When a Tree Becomes a Monster

I love trees. And when we moved here, there were none except for a mighty few. So we planted trees. Lots of trees. Everywhere.

Thirty years ago they were just little twigs. Today, they are monsters . . . especially the one planted right beside the house. A Bradford. With giant limbs stretching across our roof and the neighbor’s house and driveway. It’s a nuisance to us and to them. It’s got to come down. In the meantime, Buck is going to cut off as many limbs as he can. But it’s going to take a skilled professional to take it all the way down.

We didn’t plant trees to cut them down. But we were young and dumb and thought all trees were created equal. They’re not. Some trees are better left in the forest, like the Bradford. It may or may not grow in the forest but if it does, that’s where it should stay.


So, my advice to anyone wanting to plant trees,
do your research and find out what to plant and what not to plant. and trust me, a Bradford is one tree you do not want to plant!

 

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Turtles

Digital Art Junky

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I’m one of those people who stops for a turtle in the road, gets out of the car and puts him where it’s safe. Sometimes, I bring him home. Turtles are people, too.

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Life is Tough. It’s Tougher if You’re Old . . .

So, my plan was to help Buck pick up all the limbs in the yard . . . lots and lots of limbs. Big limbs. Little limbs. Way too many limbs for a young person, let alone a shriveled up bag of bones. After thirty minutes of bending and stooping and sweat burning my eyes, I quit!

Not my thing anymore!

Will never be my thing again!

EVER!

I feel like crying.

NO! I feel like cutting down every blasted tree, pulling up every blade of grass and pouring cement!

Then I’ll cry.

A deep, overflowing river.

Long gone are the days of working in the yard from sun up till sundown, jogging twenty miles a week, cleaning the house from top to bottom, and working five days a week. Never again will I run up a flight of stairs, bend over and touch my toes, and press a hundred pounds.

Wait. When did I ever press a hundred pounds?

I’ve never been weak and helpless. I’ve always been able to pull my weight and somebody else’s too. Even as a kid I was strong as an ox. Stubborn as a mule, too. But we won’t go there.

I think you get my drift, especially if you’re where I am at the moment . . . old and tired and frustrated and discouraged and weak and puny and . . .

Stop! The list is getting too long!

When did it happen? When did old age wrap its bony fingers around my neck and choke the life out of me? When did it break my back? When did it chop off my arms and legs?

When I started jogging at thirty-six, I assured myself and everyone that I’d keep on jogging even in my seventies. I stopped at fifty-eight.

One of my many regrets. 

I did take it back up when I was seventy-one. But it was never the same and after my back injury, I had to stop. Even walking makes my back scream. But, occasionally I tell it to shut up and I do it anyway.

So, here I am. Wishing I could do the things I did five years ago and reality laughing like a crazed hyena in my face.

So, back to picking up limbs. Buck finished my job and is mowing, now. He likes to mow. And I’m happy he likes to mow. No. I’m ecstatic he likes to mow. Now, if he just liked doing laundry. And cleaning the house. And taking out the trash . . .

 

A Little Birdie Told Me . . .

Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
Matthew 6:26, 27

Hear the birds chirping? See them fluttering from the trees? Can you Sense their happiness and peace of mind?

Birds don’t worry about stuff like coronavirus or running out of toilet paper. They don’t fret over empty shelves at Walmart or starving to death. And they certainly don’t get their feathers ruffled over clutter on the back porch.

Jesus knows what a bunch of worrywarts we humans are. That’s why He tells us to look at the birds of the air and observe how lighthearted and carefree they are. They don’t work for anything. They don’t store up anything. Yet, God takes care of them. (Matthew 6:26)

God reminded me of that again this morning as I sat fretting amongst the clutter on my back porch and wondering what the heck I’m going to do with it. How quickly I forget that God is in control of every little detail of my pitiful life. Nothing happens to me that He doesn’t know and care about. I don’t have to pace the floor biting my nails to the quick. I don’t have to beg and plead. I just have to trust Him.

Yep! That’s what a little birdie told me this beautiful sunny morning while sitting on my cluttered back porch.

I captured a few pictures while sitting with hubby and our two girls on the back porch. Pepper doesn’t mind posing for a snapshot. Bella, on the other hand, refuses to cooperate!

 

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Birdhouses: Whimsical

If you enjoy birdhouses, welcome to my blog . . .

Digital Art Junky

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Need a Bookmark? Or Two? Or Three?

Since we are restricted to staying home, we have lots of time to catch up on our reading. And if you’re still reading tangible books . . . you know, the ones with paper or hard backs that you hold in your hands and flip actual paper pages, then you’ll need a bookmark. Have no fear! You may run out of toilet paper, but I’ll make sure you NEVER run out of bookmarks!

If you’ve never done this before, just click on as many bookmarks as you like, download to your computer and print. I wish getting a roll of toilet paper was that easy!

If you like cats, you will like these bookmarks.
Free for you to use and to share
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Facebook Covers: New Formatting size for 2020

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Facebook periodically changes its formatting which I discovered when my previous Facebook covers didn’t fit like they did when I created them. So, according to its new formatting requirements, I created a few new ones for you to use and enjoy.
https://www.facebook.com/help/125379114252045

Running Out of Toilet Paper?

Before the advent of modern toilet paper, many different materials were used for the same purposes. Different materials were used depending upon the country, weather conditions, social customs, and status. People used leaves, grass, ferns, corn cobs, maize, fruit skins, seashells, stone, sand, moss, snow, and water. http://www.toiletpaperhistory.net/toilet-paper-history/used-before-toilet-paper/

Hubby got up at five this morning and was sitting in the Walmart parking lot at five-thirty thinking it opened at six. It didn’t open till seven. But that’s okay. He got everything we need for the month except flour and you guessed it . . . toilet paper.

But, we’re still good. We have one roll left in the guest bathroom and two rolls left in the master bath plus two skimpy partial rolls.

Like you and everyone else, I don’t want to run out of toilet paper!

But, what if we do?

Because I’m self-sufficient and despise relying on anyone or anything for me to survive, I create my own resources as best I can. For instance, I went online and learned how to make hand sanitizer: (https://www.healthline.com/health/how-to-make-hand-sanitizer). I haven’t made any yet, but I will because hubby is screaming for some. Too bad I can’t make my own toilet paper. Then again, maybe I can. I haven’t checked that one out, yet.

But, about this toilet paper thing. When my son was born, I always used cloth diapers until he was potty-trained. For three long years, I rinsed the poop and pee in the toilet then washed the diapers in the washing machine. Before I had a washing machine, though I used the washboard. Yeah. I’m actually that old.

No, I’m not going to wear diapers, I’m just saying there are other means of wiping our butts besides using toilet paper. Just use your imagination and do whatever works for you and your family.

Running out of toilet paper is not the worst thing that can happen during COVID-19


None of us are happy about this deadly virus
and none of us were prepared for it. But it’s here and all we can do is the best we can till it passes like staying home, spending time doing the things we love that we don’t usually have time for, playing games, and talking to your kids and your spouse, and calling your friends.

We’ll all be glad when this is over and can get back to our normal lives. This sudden smack in the face has shown me what little control I have over things like COVID-19 and empty shelves at Walmart and people getting sick and dying.

As a believer, I know that God is bigger than COVID-19 and that He is willing and able to take care of me and my family. I know that when I’m afraid I can talk to Him and find peace. I’m thankful that God is bigger than the universe and has everything under control and that I don’t have to worry about silly things like running out of toilet paper because He promises to supply all my needs.

And my God will meet all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus (even toilet paper). Philippians 4:19

Pepper, My Four-legged China Doll

Yes, Pepper is the sweet, prissy-walking, submissive dainty one. Children lover her, but the feeling isn’t mutual. When she’s had enough of their petting and picking her up and rough-housing her, she runs and squeezes behind someone sitting on the couch. She’s just not the cute little play toy they think she is.

Behind all that sweetness, though lies a mischievous imp that sneaks pens off the computer desk and chews them up, or jumps on the dining room table, or countertops – – even the kitchen stove looking for something to get into. I think Bella puts her up to it, though to get stuff she can’t reach, like a loaf of bread or left-overs tightly secured in a ziplock bag. I never know what remains I’ll find on the kitchen floor when I go in there.

When we hug Bella, Pepper jumps all over us demanding our undivided attention. She even thinks that because she’s little and cute that she can get by with just about anything, like chewing the corners of my pillows, or my blankets, or anything she wants. And she’s just about right because scolding her is like scolding a tender-hearted bawling two-year-old.

And just when we think she’s potty trained, she’s not. Yesterday it was raining so we didn’t let her out as often as we usually do. When it slacked up a bit my husband let her out but the little snot just wanted back in. So I checked the den where she usually goes when she doesn’t do it outside and sure enough, there were three turds and two puddles of pee.

I love my dogs, but they can be a royal pain at times. I have to remind myself that although they think they’re people, they’re not. They’re dogs. They act like dogs, they smell like dogs, they shed like dogs, they bark like dogs, they dig holes in the yard like dogs, they scout for food like dogs. They are dogs. A lot of work. A lot of trouble. A lot of joy. That’s why we have them, right?

 

 

 

Bella, My Four-legged Diva


So, it’s raining . . . again. Bella hates the rain.
She’d rather pee and poop on the floor than to go out and do it in the rain.

But, she’s not the Queen. I am. So I stand at the back door, clapping my hands and coaxing her off the deck. She gives me this big cow-eyed, go-to-hades look, jumps off the deck, pees like she’s been holding it in for three days then charges back on the deck.

Oh, no! That’s not the way it works, miss wanna be Queen of the castle. You get your prissy butt back out there and poop!

Another, go-to-hades look, and another and another, and jumping on and off the deck like playing a game of tag, she finally finds her spot in the tall, wet grass and poops!

Then, as if being chased by a grizzly bear, she charges back to the deck where I hold the door open praising her as if she had dug up gold in the yard. With a big, fluffy towel, I dry her off, wipe her four big paws, and without even a thanks mom she dashes toward the bedroom, jumps over my husband lying in bed, and plops down demanding him to share his warm, cozy blanket.

She’s such a diva!

 

 

 

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South Texas Watercolor Artist

Corpus Christi, Texas

THE POETIC SAGE

This site is dedicated to my amazing writing skills.

Digital Art Junky

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Art and Soul

Art is the only way to run away without leaving home ~ Twyla Tharp

Straight from the Heart

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. ~ Psalm 147:3

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