Birthday Snow

I always want a white birthday, though rarely get one.  Seems this time of year the snow only lingers around for a day or so, but not this time!  Although the sun had some melting power today, there's still plenty around (over a foot) for my birthday tomorrow!

Here's what the view from my bedroom deck looked like before the last storm...

 

We've got around fourteen inches now, and the weatherman just said we'll get another 6 inches between tomorrow night and Tuesday morning!

Actually there was another thing I wanted for my birthday...  a ticket for the theater.  If you follow my essay's blog, you know that my bf and I love to go to the theater.  She got us tickets to a great broadway show.  So the day of the show rolls around, and... yep!  More snow!  We wondered if they would cancel the show, since a large concert had even been canceled.  Even the malls were closing.  But you know what they say...  "The show must go on!"

I'm the designated driver whenever we go anywhere.  She doesn't like to drive on nice days.  I don't mind the snow, so off I went.

And they complain about teens texting while they drive...  Here I am taking pictures!  But, I wasn't looking at the screen.  I just held it and shot, hoping to get some good ones.  And I only picked it up where the roads were clear and there was no traffic.

 

The roads were terrific!  I guess everyone thought they'd be a mess because there was hardly anyone out that day!  It was like driving through my personal winter wonderland!  It sure put a smile on my face...

OK, don't laugh at my goofy sunglasses.  They do the job.  You should see the heavy-duty pair!

 

ramp to I-75 south

 

Middletown's main route!

We made it to the show with time to spare.  Turns out Cincinnati didn't have very much snow.  Can you guess what show we saw?

The actors took up a collection for Haiti.

Meanwhile, back on the farm...

I love the way the snow clunge to the fence!

 

Look how much snow is hanging on the rope in the background.

 

This is a view of our neighbors farmhouse from our driveway out by the road.

 

This bike path borders our property. 

That's our woods on the left.

The snow had molded to the gate and was now falling off.

 

Coming down the drive by the front pasture.

Over the hill on our driveway.

The trees border the creek.

The house is in the background.

On the right, behind the trees, is the goat house.

Ghost Blogger

I came in the bedroom the other day and caught Mickey on my laptop...

  

 

 Seems she was working on a Thanksgiving Day post...

Today at Hedgeapple Creek Farm

That's what Hubby calls the farm... Well, that's what he calls it for the present time. First it was Triple Creek because technically you can count three creeks. Then he called it Crooked Creek. I liked that name. We have absolutely the most winding creek you ever saw. You probably cover several miles if you walk it vs 1000 feet as the crow flies. It flows all four compass directions! Depending on his mood, he's had many names for the place. Someday I'll paint a sign.

Anyway, today he picked corn with his dad. Good corn! Last year he switched and planted some type that didn't have as much silk, so was easier to husk. Yeah, so! It didn't have much flavor and the kernels were tough. Now that he's back to growing Golden Jubilee, I can speak to him again. A lot of people love Silver Queen corn, but not me. He used to grow both... Golden Jubilee for me, Silver Queen for himself and his folks. However, when I'd cook the Golden, they'd all remark about how much better it tasted. Well, yeah... That's why I like it.

They're not finished picking yet, but there's already over a hundred ears in the freezer... and we had some for supper tonight. Here's a picture of the corn from the kitchen door. They're in there somewhere.
They didn't do as much weeding this year as normal. There was quite a bit of morning glory vines growing through the corn. This ear had a vine wrapped around it as it grew. Makes for an interesting pattern.
I thought I'd check on the Tennessee Muskmelon patch. Hubby raises them in a raised bed. (Pardon the pun.) Sadie decided to inspect them a little closer. These melons grow oblong, like a watermelon. The strange weather we're having might interfere with the melon harvest.

Today was a beautiful day for stretching out on the deck for a little sun. That's what Little Bear thought anyway...
Here is some vary rare footage. Chubs and Squeaky are partners in crime (chasing off Mickey), but I've never seen Chubs do this before...



Background: Chubs and Little Bear are siblings. Squeaky is LB' s son.

Holding Back the Claws

I want to always trust God the way my mama cat trusts me. My best friend has commented more than once about how tame my cats are. Her cats are tame, too. They are loving. They purr when petted. What's so different about mine? Trust... Total trust.


I thought about it this morning when I cradled Little Bear. She is a farm cat and lives outside, hunting mice and other varmints while escaping whatever larger predators may lurk in the darkness. Yet, with all the natural instinct a cat can possess, she is not the tiniest bit 'cat' when I hold her in my arms. A lot of cats won't let you turn them upside down (especially if they grew up with little kids!), but that's how I always hold Little Bear. I lift her with one hand under her belly and roll her into my waiting cradle. She falls back into the comfort of my arms peacefully and begins to purr. She doesn't struggle to upright herself. She doesn't reach out with her claws to secure a hold on my shirt. I can walk around with her, bend over, stoop... It doesn't matter what I do; she purrs with contentment for she is in her mommy's arms.


She was days old and orphaned when we found her. She was one of a litter of five – one dead, four barely alive, crying, their bodies cold, their eyes barely open. We took the four sickly kittens home, stopping along the way for kitten formula and the other necessities. Don King (should have seen his hair) was the worst. He survived a few days, but never seemed likely to make it. The other three flourished. Chubbers, with his unquenchable appetite, appeared to have swallowed two ping-pong balls. Paint Girl’s fur looked as if a loaded brush had touched her in places on her back. And Little Bear… so deep black, with golden eyes, claws that always seemed too long to withdraw into their hidden place. (see photo) And we became their parents.

Before the DOG came along, the three of them walked the lane with us to the mailbox and back. They followed our lead everywhere. They were devoted to us because we saved them! We saved them from death. We saved them from a hard life with no one to guide them. We provided them with everything they needed. We loved them and nurtured them. They know the sound of our voices.

I was barely alive when Jesus found me. My heart was cold. My eyes were not open. I faced certain death. I was struggling to survive. I needed His guidance and His love. God is now my Father. He saved me from certain death. He guides me daily, giving me wisdom to make the right choices. He provides me with everything I need and more. He loves me and nurtures me. And I know the sound of His voice.

He tries to pick me up, to cradle me, to give me comfort. Sometimes I let Him. Sometimes I bring out the claws. I reach to cling to something… control. I am afraid to let go. Why? Has He not always cared for me with the greatest tenderness? Don’t I trust Him with my life? Of course I do! But instinct tells me to bring out the claws, at least until my reasoning takes over.

Little Bear knows that she doesn’t need her instinct with me. I don’t know how she turns it off, but I’m going to learn. It will probably take a lot of practice and patience, but, hopefully, with time I too will no longer pull out the claws when my Father takes me into His arms.