Now this might not look like a prosthesis but it’s mine and it brings me a lot of joy. 

Why you are wondering do I need this?

My whole life I’ve been frustrated by puny hands but my little finger has caused me the most problems. 

Not sure if it comes across in these pictures but it is very short, making the playing of many musical instruments particularly difficult for me. 

Then breaking the very end and a botched relocating job after I dislocated it roping a bull made it slightly crooked and even shorter. 

But this little contraption I made out of a paper clip along with that funny little ring has been just what I needed to play this simple little penny whistle. 

This is how it works. 

It totally makes the four point hold required to play the tin whistle possible for me. It’s been working brilliantly. 

Just thought I’d share my little paper clip joy. 

A New Year

Well, I’m sorry to see 2016 go. It’s been good to me. 

Got to do so many cool things. I’ve had experiences I could hardly have imagined. One old cowgirl wandering the streets of Riga Latvia, marveling at old buildings in England, meeting my wonderful family in Wales, lost without my phone under the Hollywood sign in Los Angeles, California.

I’m closer to my husband and my beautiful daughters and my Lord than I think I’ve ever been before. 

I’ve learned more about eating right and staying healthy than I thought was possible. 

I’m content, grateful for my trials, happy. 

Thank you 2016,old year now gone to your rest. Welcome 2017, new infant year. 


Can you see him? What a nuisance. 

We’ve been going to the barn twice a day to gift Trouper oats and some soaked alfalfa cubes because he was too thin. (He had a broken tooth and another one that needed pulling and it just pulled him down before we figured out what the problem actually was and got the vet in to fix him up). 

We have to guard his treats from the resident donkey or should I say resident evil. 
Oh, and Trouper gets a blanket on at night. He’s never been so spoiled. He is looking much better already. 


I think it’s true this saying in my father’s homeland:

“To be born Welsh is to be born privileged, not with a silver spoon in your mouth but with a song in your heart and poetry in your soul.”

It’s how I feel anyway. Never wanted wanted to be rich, always want to sing, and poetry sometimes spills out of my most inner needs. 

Not that it’s good poetry but here’s one I thought up last night. 


Where will I search, how will find
a cure for the ache in my bones for my home?

 Touches of rain, winter’s frost, summer’s sun pull me on when my hope is gone.

Where will I step, how will I know
the path that leads to my nameless home?

 Glimpses of starlight, moonlight, daylight pull me through the darkest nights.

Where will I turn, how will I start
to fill to brimming my empty heart?

 Sents of sage, wolf willow, wild rose beckon me follow my lonely nose.

Where will I rest, how will I rise
when I am so tired, so far from my home? 

Whispers in the wind cheer me on,
hold me up when my strength is gone.


Some days,

this is pretty much how I feel. Transformed, ready to fly but dragging a rock. Not a real positive thought but it’s cool to be at the butterfly stage. 

Just me

I skipped church today. I don’t often do that. But sometimes it’s nice to have a little alone time. It’s fall and the beautiful days, like today, are running out. I’m enjoying sitting on the front step in the sunshine. I do love sunshine. 

I’m trying really hard to be happy in the city. Not really my thing but it does have its perks. It’s sure not like spending beautiful days like this sitting on the back of my good old horse, out on the prairie where all you can see is God’s handiwork and all you can hear is Mother Nature in the whispering grass. What a privledge to have those memories. 

Crisis Averted

Yay! I don’t have to move right now,  (that just seemed overwhelming). Moving is so stressful.  Especially when you really like where you live and it’s not your choice to move. 

I just got to stay positive and remember God loves me. Things have a way of working out. 


Somedays I wonder what in the world? 

I’m tired . . .  now I have to pack up and move on top of everything else?

Today life just kinda sucks. 


I hardly know what to say. I talked to the director of the Aina Muceniece Foundation in Latvia this morning. It looks like something will work out so that I can continue my treatments. I’ll have to fill you all in on the details as it unfolds but . . . for now all I can do is sit here trying to take in all the kindness that has surrounded everything to do this treatment. 

When I contemplate the conventional treatments of chemo and radiation it feels like a black violating cloud of death and sadness surrounds it and when I have anything to do with Rigvir it feels the exact opposite, bright and kind and life affirming. 


Building Fence

Finally back to something I know: fences. We’ve spent a busy week building this nice fence for some nice folks. 

My cowboy (even in that awful hat) still looks good fencing. You know that song: “she thinks my tractor’s sexy”? Well I think that about his fencing. He always does such a nice job. 

The gate caused a difference of opinion (not unusual between us) so I left that up to him to finish on his own Saturday morning and stayed home to do girl stuff  
It was just nice to spend the week outside (even in the hot or rainy days) under the big prairie sky close to our horses.