Many know I do not go to the Dr. for anything unless it is absolutely unavoidable. This article contains some interesting information regarding the multi million dollar heartworm preventative industry. I’ve been dosing my Maggie with Heartgard at about $35.00 for a six month supply. I like the idea of saving money, eliminating the unnecessary blood test, and most of all reducing the frequency of exposing Maggie to the toxic heartworm preventative. Check it out: Terrierman’s Daily Dose -.
These guys will be happily strutting around in my pasture today. I don’t think they realize just how lucky they are. Wishing everyone a very Happy Thanksgiving!
How many times in our lives do we think we deserve more than we were given? We are settling for Joe, when Johan is out there waiting for us. You see, Joe and Johan are not the same.
What happened to all the fun? Youthful smoke mellowed days of partying with friends and letting the sun bake your skin to a deep golden bronze while blasting Zeppelin at ear-piercing decibels. Reckless and carefree without the slightest thought of future skin cancer, potential liver damage or permanent hearing loss. Living with no rules, no regard and no regrets. Thinking only of yourself.
And by the way, what happen to my fairy tale? The one where I find the perfect Mr. Right, we make our fortune, live in a beautiful home and have the perfect life. Where is my piece of the pie? Are the times to Carpe Diem really over? Is this all I get?
I struggled with publishing this post, feeling apprehensive about showing this negative side of myself. Then I realized feeling discontented with life is no new thing. From the Bible to Shakespeare to Steinbeck to the Hollywood big screen, many have lamented over the cards they have been dealt. In the movie The Family Man, Nicolas Cage plays Jack Campbell, a successful Wall Street Executive bachelor who gets to see what his life might have been like had he given up his perfect life and stayed with his old sweetheart. Much like George Bailey in It’s A Wonderful Life, Jack encounters an angel on Christmas Eve who offers him the opportunity to see life from another path. After a shocking wake up call on Christmas morning in middle class suburbia, wearing Walmart sweat pants and surrounded by all the other mediocre trappings of normal family life, Jack flees back to the city only to discover his former perfect life is nonexistent.
Upon returning to his bland middle class life, he encounters his now wife Kate who rips into him for leaving his family on Christmas day, letting him know how frantic she has searched for him. Jack replies “Look, you don’t understand. I woke up this morning here. And this is very strange because… this isn’t my house… And those aren’t my kids… I’m not Dad… You’re not my wife.”
Sometimes I look at my own life and think what happened to me? As I am surrounded by the cracking plaster on the 50 year old walls of our country home. The badly patched hole in the ceiling, the unfinished crown molding and the wood floor that still lacks a threshold. The leftover casualties of the countless DIY projects my husband eagerly starts, but never seems to finish. I look at the lines on my 50 year old face, the gray in my hair and I do not recognize my own reflection in the mirror. Who is that person looking back at me? I look at my daughters, now in their twenties, and think that’s who I am. I should be out living it up!
I’m not this older woman looking back at me. Frazzled and twenty pounds overweight, trying to manage my household while working and caring for my own elderly parents. As I am dealing with my parent’s multiple medical issues, doctor’s appointments, bills that need to be paid and trying to determine how to handle the next ball I’ve been given to juggle; I see my family go about their daily lives and I want to scream “I need to be taken care of!” “I’m hanging on by a thread here!” “Dear God, please give me another life!”
Then a somber reality hits me like a ton of bricks and just like George Bailey and Jack Campbell, I realize I would be nothing without them. An empty shell. A dried husk. A tumbleweed blowing in the wind. They are my roots. My anchor in the storm and my nourishment after the rain. They are my Zuzu’s petals. My reality and my reason for being. They are my destiny.
So I shamefully fall to my knees and ask forgiveness for being so selfish. Then say a prayer of thanksgiving for all that I have. I get up, wash my face, then wash the 8,968th load of laundry and smile as I ask “What are you hungry for tonight?” Because the simple fact is I am blessed beyond measure and cherish the life I’ve been given.
When it’s all said and done, I still choose us and it is a wonderful life…
Most spider bites are harmless and require little or no treatment, except perhaps an antiseptic swab or anti-itch cream. However, there are four types of spiders commonly found in much of the United States whose bites can have more drastic effects and infections. The four spider bites most individuals need to be especially wary of are those of the black widow, the brown recluse, the hobo spider, and the yellow sac spider.
Brown Recluse Spider – Wikipedia
The brown recluse spider is native to the United States and found mainly in the central Midwestern states southward to the Gulf of Mexico (see map). It is also called the fiddleback spider due to the dark violin shaped marking appearing on the spider’s back. 
At our country home, we’ve had our share of insect bites and I’ve been bitten by a brown recluse spider twice before. Both times the bite grew to golf ball size, became infected and required a trip to my Dr. for wound debridement and a round of antibiotics. In both instances, I was left with an ugly dark-colored scar.
About a week ago, my 21-year-old daughter Caitlin showed signs of being bitten by a brown recluse spider. The spider is not aggressive and will only bite if it feels threatened. They like to hide in dark snug places and will crawl into clothing left on the floor, and occasionally will get into your bedding.
Brown recluse spider bites often go unnoticed initially because they are typically painless bites. Symptoms usually develop two to eight hours after a bite.
Victims may experience these symptoms:
Initially the bite site is mildly red and upon close inspection may reveal fang marks. Most commonly, the bite site will become firm and heal with little scaring over the next few days or weeks. Occasionally, the local reaction will be more severe with reddening and blistering, sometimes leading to a blue discoloration, and ultimately leading to a necrotic lesion and scarring. Signs that may be present include:
Caitlin initially presented with reddening of the skin, severe pain at bite sight, severe itching and mild blistering. After doing some research, I decided to create the following home remedy:
Aspirin
Vodka
Baking Soda
Gauze Pad
First Aid Tape (for sensitive skin use the paper type)
I melted 1 aspirin in 1 teaspoon vodka. Then added enough baking soda to make a thick (toothpaste consistency) paste. If the paste is too thick, add more vodka. Gently apply a thick coating of the paste on and around the spider bite. Cover the area with a gauze pad and tape in place with first aid tape. I repeated this treatment morning and night for about three days. Within the first 8 hours the pain and itch had greatly subsided. By the third day, the bite had opened and the venom began to ooze out in a clear/bloody discharge. (If at anytime the bite showed signs of infection, I would have promptly taken Caitlin to our Dr. for treatment.) The bite was still somewhat red and you could feel a lump under the skin about the size of a large marble, but there was little to no pain. Once the bite opened and drained, I stopped using the paste and started using triple antibiotic ointment.
Now, a little over a week later, the wound is completely healed and doesn’t show any signs of scarring. I’m sure this remedy would work on most painful insect bites.
Disclaimer: You can use home remedies to treat spider bites, but if bitten by a poisonous spider, it is highly recommended that you also seek medical attention to treat the spider bite before your symptoms get worse.
My beautiful girls, perfectly captured by an amazing and insightful Texas artist and photographer. To see more of Matthew’s work, please visit his website by clicking ENTER below.
“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”
― Mother Teresa
Being a big old hippie at heart, I’m all about peace and love. I have been so blessed on this new blogging journey and I sincerely want to send out a great big THANK YOU to all the wonderful and talented writers and artists I have had the opportunity and honor of getting to know, and ultimately calling my friends. These amazing people have graciously chosen to follow and support my eclectic little blog by leaving encouraging comments and even nominating me for various awards.
In recognition and affection, rather than passing on an existing award, I’ve decided to create my own Share the Love Award. I’m a nonconformist (shocker) and hate following rules; therefore, there are no rules to follow in accepting this award. Feel free to pass it on if you want to. I just wanted to say thank you and let you know how much I appreciate your talent, support and endless encouragement.
If anyone reading this post does not already follow these amazing people, please check them out and Share the Love! I promise you won’t be disappointed. Drum roll please… and the nominees are:
Cara at This Little Light and Awakening Foster Kelly
Dor at Virginia Views
George at The Fuzzy Photo and She Kept a Parrot
Pauline at Newfoundland Traveller
Michael at The Blissful Adventurer
Bente Haarstad at Bente Haarstad Photography
Jonell at The Coastal Crone
Stefan at Maxima
Kellie at Food to Glow
Mark at Tracks in the Dust
Thanks again for making my life a little more colorful, my friends!
Sunfire sparkling on the Pedernales River
Soaring a red-tailed hawk on the wing
Cedar and Cypress perfume dance on the water
Bull frog on the bank calling out to his love
Fireflies flicker in the wildflower valley
Cicada chorus singing their lullaby song
Whippoorwill lamenting a nightbird’s serenade
Hill Country Sonata playing my memory’s tune
Bending my heartstrings like a sweet lover’s touch
And calling me back to those hills that I love
Male Lesser Scaup – Lake Fork, Texas
Male Lesser Scaup – Lake Fork, Texas
White Pelican – Lake Fork, Texas
Red Shouldered Hawk – Mansfield, Texas
My husband captured these shots this week. The group of vultures were roosting on one of our old trees that fell victim to the recent years of drought here in Texas. The male painted bunting stopped by our koi pond for a quick bath. I wish the bunting photos were a little better, but we had to take them through the glass of our back window.
For the last week my darling daughter Rachel has asked me to make her some “Smack Mackem” which is her silly term for Salmon Croquettes. I’m not sure if this is a Southern dish or if people everywhere eat Salmon Croquettes, but I’ve eaten them my whole life. When I was a kid we dipped them in ketchup, but now I like mine with a little Dill Remoulade. Since mayonnaise is forbidden in my household, (Rachel hates it) I always substitute it with sour cream or greek yogurt. Have you ever eaten Salmon Croquettes? If not, here’s my version. I hope you’ll try it sometime and let me know what you think.
Salmon Croquettes:
1 egg beaten
14.75 oz can Wild Alaska Pink Salmon crumbled and bones removed
1/3 cup chopped onion
2 TBS Sour Cream
1 TBS Melted Butter
1/2 cup Flour
1/2 cup Yellow Corn Meal
1/2 tsp Slap Ya Mama Cajun Seasoning or use Salt, Pepper and dash of Garlic Powder
Oil for Frying
Mix all ingredients and form into 4 equal sized patties. Meanwhile in cast iron or heavy skillet add 1 inch of oil and heat on Medium setting. Place patties into hot oil and cook about 4 minutes per side or until browned. Place on parchment paper to drain.
Sour Cream Dill Remoulade:
1 Cup Sour Cream
1 1/2 tsp Dill Weed
Mix together and serve with Salmon Croquettes.
When my family moved to our country home in 1995, we were eager to embrace all the wonderful opportunities that country living had to offer. We mended the old fence and barn and soon added our share of farm animals to complete our little country haven. Our animal menagerie included a flock of laying hens and a rooster to give us fresh eggs, but over the years our flock decreased and eventually our fresh egg production came to an end.
Recently, after purchasing a $4.00 carton of organic cage free eggs, I discovered all the eggs were disgustingly runny and obviously inedible. Having this less than satisfactory experience with store-bought eggs, and being aware of the absolute horrors chickens have to endure in the commercial egg production industry, we decided to rebuild our chicken coop and start enjoying our own farm fresh eggs again.
My husband spent all weekend building the new coop and we went to our local feed supplier and bought 4 baby turkeys, 10 chicks and 1 rooster Like our Rat Terrier, I too find watching the baby chicks completely spellbinding and I have begun to named them based on their personalities.
My favorite is the largest Black Spanish turkey that I have named Hey Zeus. He is just a baby, but he’s already trying to strut his stuff. I don’t think the girls are impressed, judging by the expressions on their faces.
Now for my contribution to the new chicken coop; the decor. My husband is quite the handy man and we always have wood scraps leftover from past DIY projects. I found these weathered wood scraps and thought they would work out great for making some homemade signs.
Next I gathered up my acrylic paint, paint brushes and paint sponges. Then I painted the wood a solid color and outlined the edge with a contrasting color, creating a framed effect.
Then I purchased two different stencils. One was a cursive type and one was block type letters
Using a sharp pencil, I traced out the word Farm Fresh on the wood using the cursive letters and the word EGGS using the block letters.
Then I highlighted the word Farm Fresh in a bright yellow and painted white eggs around the word EGGS.
Next I carefully painted in the words. You will need a steady hand and a very small detail paint brush.
And here’s the finished product. Add some eye hooks and a chain to hang it and throw on a couple of coats of clear polyurethane to weatherproof and it’s ready for the coop. Now to decide what to put on the other two signs.
The coop will only be used to protect the babies while they are growing. As soon as they are big enough, the door to the coop will be left open and they will have free access to the yard and pasture, as nature intended. If you would like to help support current legislative efforts in banning the barbaric and cruel practice of battery caged chickens in the US egg industry; please visit the Humane Society of the United States website by clicking on this link: Help Improve the Lives of Laying Hens
The following information was taken from the Penn State Live website. You can click on the heading below to see the full article.
“Compared to eggs of the commercial hens, eggs from pastured hens eggs had twice as much vitamin E and long-chain omega-3 fats, more than double the total omega-3 fatty acids, and less than half the ratio of omega-6 to omega-3 fatty acids,” she said. “Vitamin A concentration was 38 percent higher in the pastured hens’ eggs than in the commercial hens’ eggs, but total vitamin A per egg did not differ.”
”Eggs of the hens that foraged grasses had 23 percent more vitamin E than eggs of hens that foraged clover. “Results suggest that grass pastures may enhance vitamin E in eggs of pastured hens more than clover,” she said.”
I snapped this photo today of the Waxahachie Courthouse. The two old cars invoked thoughts of Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow, young outlaw lovers that went on a two-year crime spree (1932-1934) which ended in a bloody ambush lead by Texas Ranger Frank Hamer. The movie Bonnie and Clyde starring Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway was scripted by Waxahachie native Robert Benton, and filmed in this area 1967. Many old-timers still tell stories of their encounters with the outlaws Bonnie and Clyde.
“Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty.”
~ President John F. Kennedy
Freedom is never free. This Memorial Day I want to say thank you to all the men and women who have fought and died, giving the ultimate sacrifice to ensure our country remains free. And to all the of the soldiers, past and present, thank you for your service, your dedication and the sacrifices you and your families have made on behalf of us, our country and for Freedom. It’s a day to cherish family and give thanks for the wonderful privilege of living in such a great country. It’s about the honor, duty and sacrifice of so many American families, just like mine.
The year was 1953, the world was still reeling from the end of World War II, Dwight D. Eisenhower was the newly elected President and the Korean War was being fought. All young men of that time period were required to register for the military Selective Service, so upon his eighteenth birthday my father dutifully completed his registration card. Around that same time he also met my mother and they fell in love. Following a year-long courtship they were married in February of 1953. My mother had just turned seventeen and my father was two weeks shy of his nineteenth birthday.
After their first year of marriage they were eager to begin their family and tried desperately to have children. But that greatly desired child never came. They continued to hope and pray for a family of their own, but after the third year of trying, they lost hope and decided they were destined to be childless.
In the early part of 1956, my father received his Order to Report for Induction; he had been drafted. He was to report to the Fort Ord U.S. Army post in Monterey Bay, California for basic training. My mother was heartbroken. How was she going to make it without him? So they did what all young couples in love do when faced with an unwanted separation, they made the best of it. They spent as much time together as they could until the day came for my father to depart for basic training. My mother wrote him every day and missed him terribly, so terribly she began to get ill. It seemed everything she ate made her immediately nauseous. This went on for a couple of weeks until her family suggested she might be pregnant. What? Could this be possible?
A trip to the Doctor confirmed her families suspicions and gave my mother the blessed news, she was in fact pregnant. Excitedly, she contacted my father in California to relayed the news. They were both overjoyed! Then reality set in. She would have to carry and birth this child alone. The plans they had made for her to come out to California and live in the on-base family housing were dashed. She was too sick to travel. Summer turned to fall and my father completed his basic training. Then he received his orders, he would be deployed to Germany.
Somehow, he was allowed a short leave for Christmas. My mother was overjoyed to see him one last time before he was shipped out and they spent a glorious Christmas holiday together Shortly after Christmas, my father had to returned to his military duty. The Army allowed him to stay Stateside until my brother Monte was born on January 15, 1957. My father learned of my brother’s birth via telegram and the next day he was on a plane to New York. Once he arrived in New York, he boarded a ship and began his trip overseas.
My father was a good soldier and soon was promoted to the position of Military Police or MP. He and my mother carried on their relationship via mail. They wrote to each other almost daily. My father got to know his first born son by reading letters and looking at photographs. While serving his country, my father missed all of my brothers milestones. When my brother got his first haircut, my mother tuck a lock of his hair in with the photo and letter she sent to dad. My brother’s first tooth, first Christmas, first steps and first birthday passed while my father was on patrol in snowy Würzburg, Germany.
My father honorably completed his military assignment and finally returned home to my mother and oldest brother Monte in the Spring of 1958… Nine months later my brother Randy was born. And a few years later, I came along.
Although my parents made great sacrifices during this difficult time, God poured out his blessings upon their lives. What seemed like tragedy was actually a gift. My mother thought she could never have children, but was blessed with three. And while my father was serving his country, my mother had my oldest brother to love, care for and keep her company.
After 59 years of marriage, my parents are still madly in love with each other. Our roles are reversed and I now have the honor of caring for them, just as they have cared for me all these years. I am so thankful my life is at a point where I am able to devote my time to them and truly enjoy our time together. They are the best parents a child could ever have and I love them dearly!
My husband, youngest daughter and I traveled back in time to the 16th Century this weekend with a visit to the Scarborough Renaissance Festival, which is held in Waxahachie Texas weekends each Spring from April until Memorial Day.
King Henry and Anne Boleyn.
The festival includes a 35 acre village consisting of artisans that create one-of-a-kind works of art and quaint shops featuring unique handmade jewelry, clothing, leather goods and other fun items. I couldn’t resist buying a spicy scented bar of handmade organic soap. Here’s our daughter Caitlin (or Cake as we affectionately call her) with a Gandalf looking Wizard in his sterling jewelery shoppe.
The artists, peddlers and performers all dress and speak in character. Performance acts include jousting competitions, comedy routines, music, dance and many other unique entertainers on 22 different stages. All the performances are included in the admission price.
After shopping and checking out a few of the acts we had to stop for some yummy fried festival food. My husband Scott chose a healthy baked potato (no bacon), but Caitlin and I went for the fried mushrooms and onion rings.
It was a lovely Texas afternoon with clear skies, a light Southern breeze and temperatures in the mid 80′s.
We couldn’t resist a cheesy photo-op as the King and Queen.
Cake fit right in with the Renaissance characters. Here she is with a couple of Ogres.
This guy is lucky he didn’t get my husbands size 11 boot up his you-know-what after calling out to Cake “Hey, come here horny girl!” As penance I made him pose for a photo.
We finished the day off by checking out some of the beautiful performing animals.
Majestic birds of prey and obliging elephants.
I felt a little sorry for this long eye-lashed beauty as she patiently carried kid after kid around and around.
What better way to end a perfect day than with a poem inspired by Cake and the Renaissance?
Absinthe eyes
Dancing fairy sprite
Cast not thy gaze my way
Bewitch another
His heart enslave
And corpse the birds to pick
