This Journey—-Sunday, April 10, 2016

19Way back when…9 years ago… I was at a place in my life where I wanted to start something new, but I didn’t know just what.  At that point in my life I was working with a wonderful friend (still is a wonderful friend) who said to me–“Start a blog.”

The beginnings of my blog were rather bleak, I had so much to learn.  But blogging combined several things I enjoyed doing —photography and working on our farm.  I’m sure it was tremendously boring for others to read, but for me it was exhilarating.

Jet-Tail As time moved on blogging became a tool to improve myself in my writing, the photos and my ability to express myself so each of my readers could see and feel what I see and feel every day.

The comments left by each of you are cherished— as an exchange about knowledge, understanding and connection.  For a long-time I personally sent an email to each individual who commented. Today I answer on the blog, so everyone can see and participate and even get to know someone of interest who is a fellow commenter.

This little blog of mine has given to me friends from all over the world, people I get to meet in a daily way every day by my blog.


Although, I have never had a blog post reprinted in a magazine, or a post go super viral,or even viral :),  I have had the absolute fun of writing– I write about farming, rainbows, the land and my love of it, every aspect of the sky and— ‘stories’ about the dogs who live on our farm.


As long as I can remember I wrote stories, stories in the first grade, stories in Jr. High, stories in high school and college, stories and poetry after I started raising children.  Writing stories on the blog is a huge delight to me. 

This is  MY conversation with you.  And it’s an honest conversation…I like writing TO You. I like Sharing WITH you. I like Showing you, without an agenda, our life on a western Colorado farm.

And I delight in your conversations with me.

Now having said all that I just want to say Thank you for your friendship!  It’s a wonderful journey.


From my heart to yours!


The Adventures of Fuzzy and Boomer on Friday—Hauling Hay

Fuzz and I woke up early this morning; just at the sky was starting to color up a bit in the East.  It was rather cold…that is why we woke up.  Cold, brrrr!  48*!  Mom is going to have to snuggle up our dog houses pretty soon, or let us sleep in the house.

Sleep in the house…HEY that works for me!  Fuzzy doesn’t really like to sleep in the house; he says he gets too hot.

I had to remind him that he sure likes to be in the house when there is fire in the sky.

“That’s different”, he growled at me. “I’m a watch dog, I’m also a cow dog, and I’m the protector of the farm.  I sleep outside so I can SEE and HEAR what is going on, if something bad is happening then I can give the alarm.”

“Oh”, I replied.  “I just thought being in the house, was well, warmer.”

“It is son, it is.  But we watchdogs have real work to do.  Mom will be along and fix us up; she hasn’t failed us yet, has she.”

“Actually, no she hasn’t,” I answered.

So up we were when a huge flock of little twittering and cheeping birds came by and landed in our tree.  They sure were full of chit-chat and chatter, I sat there and watched them and listened in on their conversations:

“Are you tired, Mable?”

“Not yet, but having this tree right here was really good.”

“Ready to go”


“A short rest doesn’t do anyone of us any harm we have a long way to go today”

Mom walked out the house about that time causing about 1/3 of the birds to swoosh up into the air, the rest stopped talking.

Then Dad came out and got on his four-wheeler.  That was the end of the birds resting.  They all flew away.

I wonder where they are going…..

Anyway, we have work to do today.  It the last day of hauling in the hay! I love this type of work.  I get to ride with Fuzzy if I get tired or I can run alongside Mom checking out the bales.  I found a bull snake. WHEW!  That was a trip.

I was sniffing around one of the bales because it had a funny smell…sort of …well, hummm, let me see, musty, wet ….now just what is that odor?  I can’t seem to find a word for it, when all of a sudden —–


I jumped ten feet in the air.

That thing could move FAST.  I think it must have been 50 feet long!  The slithery long monster ran right at me!  RIGHT AT ME!!!!!!!     WOW!   WOOF! WOOF!  BARK! BARK!    I gave the red alarm.  Mom sure took her time getting over to the hay bale.

“Oh, Boom. That is just a snake.”  Come on get on the four-wheeler and leave it be, they do more good than harm.”  She laughed.

Yeah right.  You don’t have to tell me more than once. I know when I need to be on the four-wheeler and right now is one of those times!

After a while I wanted off, so I hoped off.  Fuzzy stayed on. He doesn’t get off much anymore. Heck, he never gets off.  Says his days of getting off and running around are over. It is so much better to ride.  Mom and I can get off, but he wants to just enjoy the sun and having the four-wheeler do all the work.

It only took about three hours to get the hay bales turned right (sometimes they come out of the baler and land crooked or they fall over, sometimes the baler doesn’t bale the bale well.  The twine slips or the knot doesn’t knot or sometime or other, when that happens it’s called a broken bale.  We, Mom and us pick the broken bales up and haul them into the feed bunk.  We also haul some down to the goats.

After we got all the bales straightened and Dad got all the hay stacked it was time to head up to the cement ditch and turn the water down.  One last irrigation for the hay and we are done for the year.

Sure seems to have gone fast.

This reminds me.  It was a year ago this week that I came to live here.  I picked this place.  It’s mine.  They love me and I love them.

Mom sang Happy Anniversary to me off and on all day.  She said since we don’t know my real birthday then today is going to be my birthday.  The vet said I was about 4-5 years old last year, so I guess this year I’m about 5-6 years old.  Whatever doesn’t really matter to me.  I like living here.  I like Fuzzy a lot and I love finding out what each new day is going to bring.

This farm living is the life for me!


With Our Boys in Service—October 12, 1944