Last Tuesday,
June 16, 2020 smoke filled our skies,
our eyes, and our lungs
The smoke came into us from the huge fire in Durango, Colorado
And another one on the Indian Reservation called the Six-Shooter Fire
Plus those fires burning in Arizona.
Please…remember to be careful in this hot dry windy time.
Please.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Chapter Two
Okay, enough is enough!
I’ve slept the sleep of the dead. I’ve slept on the kitchen floor where I can keep cool.
I’ve slept in my warm Boomer Sofa where I can stay warm.
I’ve slept out in my bedroom where I can stretch out and roll around.
I’ve SLEPT!
I’m tired of sleeping.
Just say’n
It’s TIME to GO OUTSIDE!
I pushed the back door open, picked up my bum leg, and hopped outside!
There is news out here just I know!
Let’s see check this out.
Now check this out
What’s over here.
OKAY! That’s enough. Time to move off the step.
Into the Garden, I go
Look this way
And That
OOOOOOOOOOOOO BAYYYYYYYYYYYY SMELL THIS!!!
Raccoon…during the night.
Always. RACCOON in the Garden! BAYYYYYYYYYYYY!
Oh! Hi Mom!
Raccoon in your garden
Go figure. Mom doesn’t understand Beaglie talk.
Oh, Well…I’ve known that for years.
Oh! Here comes Dad!
“Come on Boomer! Let’s go!” Mom called me.
GO!
You Bet!
We are back to having wind
…not a soft breeze, or a lovely gentle rush of air
But the blazing strength type of wind which whips your words away in a huge rush
The kind of wind which bends trees and drys out the land
Still, it’s all good.
Irrigation water has been cut back, causing us to change it every 8 hours, three times a day.
I think the Gods are watching us…
To see if we care about the gift of land, and sun, and air
We try to be good stewards. It’s time-consuming, but very rewarding.
Then of an evening, we like to watch the world slow down.
Each and every day
Priceless.
“No! I would not want to live in a world without dragons, as I would not want to live in a world without magic, for that is a world without mystery, and that is a world without faith.”–R.A. Salvatore, Streams of Silver
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Sometimes I am so, well, — happy
The farm is just so beautiful
The farmyard is beautiful
The sunlight waking the earth from a wee sleep during the night is stunning
Brilliant light on the un-farmed parts, where the wild critters play remarkable
The air around the yard rich with the smells of lilies
A feast of color for the eyes
The heady aroma of roses
The happiness of our land squeezes my heart
Then while out setting water for the last time….walking in the exact same spot we have walked ‘for-ever’
I realized the pink rock I had set tubes by for years
— Was a perfect little gift from the Universe in the form of a heart!
From my world to your heart,
Linda
As a child, I often wondered (sometimes worried) where does God Live?
When I asked ‘those who know’ they always pointed to the sky
Somewhere way up there far, far away
Or, if I were at church, my Sunday School teacher would say “Here in God’s House”
Now, that REALLY got me concerned, because AFTER ALL, here we were all tromping around in GOD’S HOUSE
And God was NEVER Home!
Of course, over-time, Momma explained to me that God lived in our hearts
Which became truly confusing, because I could never really feel a BIG, All-Encompassing person, with a white robe, white hair and beard, and scary fiery eyes —-in my heart.
Wouldn’t my heart be too heavy for my body then?
My paternal Grandmother (who was a STAUCH Presberterian) said, “No, Linda…not a physical person in your heart…but a feeling in your heart”!
Still very confused I took my worry, my small child’s concern to my maternal grandmother (who was a staunch Baptist)
Who told me to pray about my question to the Heaven/God and see what I learn.
“O!”
New thought!
So I prayed. Every night. Every morning. Asking where God lived.
I was sitting outside on the cement step with my maternal Grandfather when I thought to ask him the question—“Where does God live?”
“Why, Sweet Thing, he lives everywhere. And nowhere
“He is a great mystery. And one we should always honor.” Granddad reached over and pulled me next to him, took up my hand, and placed it in his.
God belongs to no one and everyone. He is in many forms and helps many people.
He touches all of us, just like the light from the sun and the moon and the stars.
Then he pulled me close in a hug.
It was then I understood.
From my world to your heart,
Linda
Your God, My God, and Everyone’s God
Talks to us.
Sometimes they talk in signs
Sometimes writing in the heavens
Sometimes sending the sun to chase away the shadows
Often times the messages are so loud and clear
We can not hear or see
We are looking for an answer
That Crashes like a Symbol! Something that SHOUTS!
But the answers are always there…
The answers filter into our thoughts,
Subtle, but profound
It’s up to us to listen—
With our souls.
If we truly and honestly want an answer.
From my world to your heart,
Linda
Second Field
First cutting
All rolled, ends cleaned up, and stacked ready for departure to its new home
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
Chapter One
I am feeling, better, better, better! Boy is that sensitive nose of mine a mess. I have to be very careful and NOT go out in the wind.
Or the weeds. Or the grass.
The second I go out in the wind my nose becomes infected. Then I’m sick and I have to take medicine which makes me very, very sleepy.
BUT…
TODAY! I feel GOOD! I feel good enough I am GOING TO DO SOMETHING NO MATTER WHAT MOM SAYS!!!
Now what started all this, you ask. Well,
I was out checking all the news right after my very yummy break-the-long-night-fast of a boiled skinless, boneless chicken thigh.
(Mom is afraid I have developed an allergy to food so she is monitoring EVERYTHING! Although, I do find the REAL boiled chicken thigh very yummy. I can slurp that right down in two gulps.)
So, anyhoo here I am checking out the farmyard…lots of interesting things out here to sniff— when one has a sniffer.
I haven’t had a sniffer since forever!
Sniff, sniff, sniff.
Hummm
What do we have here…?!
Sniff, sniff, snuff
Raccoon. Yes. We have lots of raccoons, I think we are a major highway for raccoons.
Raccoons will kill and eat chickens, you know. That’s why Mom always and forever locks up the two hens each and every night. Locks them up tighter than a drum. Gota keep ‘um safe, ya know.
Yes, raccoon…and WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
WAIT!
WHAT IS THIS!
Not a raccoon.
I don’t think I know this smell.
Sniff, sniff…oooooooooooo, yes, I do. DANGER in the form of QUILLS!
NOT GOOD!
I better let Mom know.
But, wait! I think I had better go check out around the Butler Bins and the farm equipment and the….
I took off trotting out of the farmyard when I heard:
“BOOMER! WHERE ARE YOU?! BOOMER! YOU COME BACK HERE!”
“BOOMER!”
Sigh!
I turned around…shoot.
MOM! THERE YOU ARE! I LOVE YOU, MOM!
I hobbled up to Mom with my tail going in a circle.
“Boomie, you can’t go off on a walk-about anymore. Your back leg doesn’t work, your knee hasn’t really healed from whatever you did to it this winter, you can’t see well, and your hearing is off. I’m sorry Beaglie, your exploring days are over. You have to stay in the yard and close to mom now.”
Mom reached down and gave my ears lots of rubs, pets, strokes, and a big kiss on my nose.
Sigh.
Okay, whatever you say Mom, I thought as I followed her back into the yard, then into the house.
Settling down, I made myself comfortable…I’ll sleep for a spell. BUT I think I still might do a walk-about sometime.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
It’s been miserable here for the last few days
Monday night was THE WORST. Threatening clouds all around us.
The incredibly hot, dry wind, turned into the incredibly cold nasty wind; wind so hard it slammed into us
The bully wind making it next to impossible to stand on the ditch banks, let alone set flapping dams into the ditches.
The sunlight, meager at best (as you can see —sun obscured by dark threatening clouds)
Then the cold came in…close to freezing Monday night and the threat of colder weather to come.
(The high country got snow…as in Ouray, Grand Mesa…those areas.)
What odd, strange, unusual weather for June.
Your friend on a western Colorado farm,
Linda
I don’t know why I struggle with dread/ or the feeling of impending doom
I really don’t know why.
I even looked it up on the internet and found out that elderly people do struggle with feelings of despair.
Maybe it’s a subtle worry about aging and the future
Or the fact, as a septuagenarian death is looming ever closer,
(Photo by our daughter, Shannon)
Not arriving quickly, but not slowly either
(Photo by our daughter, Shannon)
So I am always rather amazed
Not stunned with amazement
But pleasantly surprised
When I look to the heavens and find residing there gently
Are diamonds….adorning the ether and my eyes—taking away the cheap feeling of impending ruin
All I have to do is Look
There within the white clouds, riding high above the breeze is that ancient symbol of hope, a promise of blessings, and the belief life is truly made up of roses and laugher.
All I have to do is look; give Thanks for what is to come,
All will be what it is supposed to be —- and that, in and of itself is Good.
From my heart to your world,
Linda
Life on a Colorado Farm 