Ornaments
I so enjoyed putting up the tree yesterday. My favorite part is getting the boxes of ornaments out of the attic and hanging them on the tree. There are hundreds of them, yet they each evoke a special memory of a person, a place, or a time. Some were gifts from grandparents and relatives no longer with us, and some from friends that have moved away. There were quite a few that Mama cross-stitched, and several that John and I glued glitter on in kindergarten. We even found one from my friend Jennifer that I didn't know about...she brought it to me in the hospital last year...but I was so drugged I didn't remember it. So it was a nice surprise all over again! What's your favorite ornament?
Day 3...
...and the nausea has set in. I did manage to get my Christmas tree up last night. It looks really good...except I'm missing pictures of a few friends for my ornaments...
pounding
So this is day 2 of the migraine. I just want to crawl into bed and stay there until my head falls off. Instead, I think I'll be hitting the bottle. God bless whoever created Excedrin Migraine. I think there's a very special place in Heaven for whoever came up with this stuff. I wonder how many I could take at a time without OD-ing...
Happy Thanksgiving!
Hope you enjoyed your feast...I sure did!
Kum Ba Yah
So we survived the thundering herd and managed to have a pretty good time, thanks to Hannah and Rachael. They may not be able to follow simple instructions, but they did save our supper. Now that you all have some -er- experience with livestock, we'll expect to see you back in February to work cows...
Happy Joy?
A Prayer for Our Soldiers
Psalm 144
1 Praise be to the LORD my Rock,
who trains my hands for war,
my fingers for battle.
2 He is my loving God and my fortress,
my stronghold and my deliverer,
my shield, in whom I take refuge,
who subdues peoples under me.
3 O LORD, what is man that you care for him,
the son of man that you think of him?
4 Man is like a breath;
his days are like a fleeting shadow.
5 Part your heavens, O LORD, and come down;
touch the mountains, so that they smoke.
6 Send forth lightning and scatter {the enemies};
shoot your arrows and rout them.
7 Reach down your hand from on high;
deliver me and rescue me
from the mighty waters,
from the hands of foreigners
8 whose mouths are full of lies,
whose right hands are deceitful.
9 I will sing a new song to you, O God;
on the ten-stringed lyre I will make music to you,
10 to the One who gives victory to kings,
who delivers his servant David from the deadly sword.
11 Deliver me and rescue me
from the hands of foreigners
whose mouths are full of lies,
whose right hands are deceitful.
12 Then our sons in their youth
will be like well-nurtured plants,
and our daughters will be like pillars
carved to adorn a palace.
13 Our barns will be filled
with every kind of provision.
Our sheep will increase by thousands,
by tens of thousands in our fields;
14 our oxen will draw heavy loads.
There will be no breaching of walls,
no going into captivity,
no cry of distress in our streets.
15 Blessed are the people of whom this is true;
blessed are the people whose God is the LORD.
Through the grapevine...
So I walk in the door at 4:15 and Mama says "I hear the stew recipe is on your blog." I was a little surprised...because I have to show her how to get to my blog if she wants to see it. It turns out that her oldest sister, my Aunt Marie, had called. Now...Marie does not own a computer. "Hmmm..." I thought. "How did she know?" Apparently my Aunt Lois (who has the greatest job in the world...she gets paid to surf the internet, forward emails, and take long walks) had seen the post and told her when they talked. Elapsed time: 72 minutes.
Note to self: save the cell phone minutes and put anything that the family needs to know on the blog. It just saves time.
Shall we gather at the stew pot...
6 gal. Tomatoes
10 lbs. Potatoes
5 lbs. Onions
3 gal. Corn
3 gal. Butterbeans
10 lbs. Beef
3 Fresh Hens
1 lb. Butter
1 C. Sugar
Salt, Pepper, Worchestershire, Texas Pete
Spending the day stoking the fire, stirring the pot, dodging splatters and trying not to stand in the smoke: PRICELESS.
