Saturday, February 28, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
Well, I had been sitting here working on my new blog.... Where I come From and realized it's 12:53 am on Tuesday morning. UGG! I've got to be up in about 5 hrs. So thought while I was here, I'd stop and share the weekend with everyone.
Ronnie took Dustin hunting for the first time this weekend. They had a big Coyote hunt yesterday and so Dustin says he enjoyed it and ready to go again. While the guys hunted, Rosalee and Beverlene and I went riding "The Barnes over outside of Electra. It was so beautiful. You never actually realize just what God has blessed us with till you actually see it, sittin' top of a 1500 lb animal, walkin long side the canon and the only thing keepin you from fallin' in to the river is your horse. WOW! What a view. During our ride yesterday we saw a few rabbits taking chase to who knows what, about 5 Armadillo's that had no clue we were even watching them, 4 very large wild hogs, and about 12 Deer. The best thing about the ride.... Everyone came out without a scratch and no one was hurt. Which is always a good thing!
I found my first Antler yesterday. Its a game we play while riding out at the Barnes. If you dont find one on the ride, you WALK home. Not really, but it makes for a fun day. I spot it about 200 yd's out and called it and about that time Beverlene's Brother took chase and I went after it. Not even thinking about what I was doing dismounted Newt mid run and scooped down for the kill. No one thinking about the fact, I just came off my horse while he was MOVING! I have now officially been called... "A Bulldogger" YEAH! Anyway, Goodnight and hope all is well on your side of the world....
Thursday, February 19, 2009
...just received this though email today and had to share. You may have received it already, but thought it was worth sharing and reading again...
The baggy yellow shirt had long sleeves, four extra-large pockets trimmed in black thread, and snaps up the front. It was faded from years of wear, but still in decent shape. I found it in 1963 when I was home from college on Christmas break, rummaging through bags of clothes Mom intended to give away.
You're not taking that old thing, are you?" Mom said when she saw me packing the yellow shirt. "I wore that when I was pregnant with your brother in 1954!" "It's just the thing to wear over my clothes during art class, Mom. Thanks!" I slipped it into my suitcase before she could object. The yellow shirt became a part of my college wardrobe. I loved it. After graduation, I wore the shirt the day I moved into my new apartment and on Saturday mornings when I cleaned.
The next year, I married. When I became pregnant, I wore the yellow shirt during big-belly days. I missed Mom and the rest of my family, since we were in Colorado and they were in Illinois. But that shirt helped. I smiled, remembering that Mother had worn it when she was pregnant, 15 years earlier.
That Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the shirt had given me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in holiday paper and sent it to Mom. When Mom wrote to thank me for her "real" gifts, she said the yellow shirt was lovely. She never mentioned it again.
The next year, my husband, daughter, and I stopped at Mom and Dad's to pick up some furniture. Days later, when we uncrated the kitchen table, I noticed something yellow taped to its bottom. The shirt!
And so the pattern was set. On our next visit home, I secretly placed the shirt under Mom and Dad's mattress. I don't know how long it took for her to find it, but almost two years passed before I discovered it under the base of our living-room floor lamp. The yellow shirt was just what I needed now while refinishing furniture. The walnut stains added character.
In 1975, my husband and I divorced. With my three children, I prepared to move back to Illinois. As I packed, a deep depression overtook me. I wondered if I could make it on my own. I wondered if I would find a job. Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the shirt back to Mother. The next time I visited her, I tucked it in her bottom dresser drawer.
Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A year later, I discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a rag bag in my cleaning closet. Something new had been added. Embroidered in bright green across the breast pocket were the works "I BELONG TO PAT." Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery materials and added an apostrophe and seven more letters. Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, "I BELONG TO PAT'S MOTHER."
But I didn't stop there. I zigzagged all the frayed seams, then had a friend mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from Arlington, VA. We enclosed an official-looking letter from "The Institute for the Destitute," announcing that she was the recipient of an award for good deeds. I would have given anything to see Mom's face when she opened the box.
But, of course, she never mentioned it. Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. The day of our wedding, Harold and I put our car in a friend's garage to avoid practical jokers. After the wedding, while my husband drove us to our honeymoon suite, I reached for a pillow in the car to rest my head. It felt lumpy. I unzipped the case and found, wrapped in wedding paper, the yellow shirt. The shirt was Mother's final gift. She had known for three months that she had terminal Lou Gehrig's disease. Mother died the following year at age 57.
I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to her grave, but I'm glad I didn't because it is a vivid reminder of the love-filled game she and I played for 16 years. Besides, my older daughter is in college now, majoring in art. And every art student needs a baggy yellow shirt with big pockets.
Monday, February 9, 2009
A man and woman had been married for more than 60 years. They had shared everything. They had talked about everything. They had kept no secrets from each other except that the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of her closet that she had cautioned her husband never to open or ask her about.
For all of these years, he had never thought about the box, but one day the little old woman got very sick and the doctor said she would not recover. In trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man took down the shoe box and took it to his wife's bedside. She agreed that it was time that he should know what was in the box. When he opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a stack of money totaling $95,000.
He asked her about the contents. 'When we were to be married,' she said, ' my grandmother told me the secret of a happy marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet and crochet a doll.' The little old man was so moved; he had to fight back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the box. She had only been angry with him two times in all those years of living and loving. He almost burst with happiness. 'Honey,' he said, 'that explains the doll, but what about all of this money? Where did it come from?'
'Oh,' she said, 'that's the money I made from selling the dolls.'
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Most of you by now know that my boyfriends little girl Raegan has Cystic Fibrosis. Last year her Aunt and I created REAGAN'S WALKERS and our Team participated in several fundraisers and events with Cystic Fibrosis such as the GREAT STRIDES WALK and the BREATH of LIFE GALA in Nov 2008 in Oklahoma City. This year our team will be hosting a Crop so we can help raise money for the 2009 GREAT STRIDES WALK. The crop will be held in Wichita Falls, Tx at Scrapbook-n-Such. Go to RAEGANS WALKERS BLOG for more information on the crop.
We need help finding a cure! Please go to RAEGANS WALKERS page and make a donation no matter how small. Even if you donate a dollar and then send the link to 5 people and they send to 5 people.... you get the idea... we could make a difference. When you go to our team donation site, the money will go directly to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. Without our help, the Foundation can not get the treatments and drug therapies they currently have in the pipeline funded and hopefully in the hands of our loved ones who need them.
If you need any further information please contact me or Call Cecil or Caryn at the Sooner Chapter in Oklahoma City and tell them Robin with Raegan's Walker's sent you.
Remember: "Where there is HOPE, there is LIFE"