Conspiring

Oh my goodness! For anyone that believes all that awaits us when our lives are finished is that you die and worms eat you I'm going to sound more than a little crazy.

But if you're like me and have had faint but memorable experiences with the other side and you know the end is not "the end" you'll just smile when you hear my ramblings.

It's about loved ones on the other side conspiring to do all they can to help us, the living, make our journey through life in such a way that the other side for us will be a place of such great joy we can't even imagine it.

Today I witnessed an unbelievable set of coincidences, not in my life mind you, but in the life of a newly found family member. I stand in awe of all that had to transpire with such perfect timing in order for the association to be made, truly a miracle of circumstances. And I could see how perfectly it was all planned. Oh ya, a definite plan had been made.

It just confirmed to me what I already know. They love us over there, generations of family members long passed on; and they are doing all they can think of to help us.

You are so loved; never ever doubt that. You might not be able to see it now but I think in those rare moments in life when all is still that if we try at all, we can feel that love.

Welcome, little Abby, to the fold. You come from good people.

Prayer so Simple

 One of my greatest God-given blessings was to be a cowboy’s wife, even now: old and without much of our own, tired and retired, and stuck living in town-what a good life it was, what a privilege and blessing all those years out on the prairie with my cowboy. How I miss all that open sky, Heaven so close and prayer so simple. 

Prayer that timely rains would come and nuture the grass that in turn would grow up good weighty cattle. Prayer to know how best to serve the humble cow, how to work together with each other and with our partners: the horses, the dogs, and our Mother, Nature. Prayer for a kind heart and a noble character worthy of Home. 

Grass and sky, there’s nothing better. 

The Pig Shot

Never doubt that I’ve lived an interesesting life. Sometimes I think back and shake my own head at some of the things I’ve done and the lessons learned. 

Today we watched a movie with Angie Dickensen and this pig memory came flooding back. It was one of those shake my own head moments. 

The actress Angie Dickinson many many years ago used to play a shoot with two hands lady cop. Keep that in mind. 

So when I was a young bride we had a few good mares and a wonderful old stallion (an actual grandson of the great Three Bars) that I loved. And we produced some, what I thought, were pretty special colts. 

Somebody wanted one of the newly weaned fillies. We let them trade us a pile of bred sows and a big old boar named Ike for this filly. We were thinking we’d pig out the sows and sell that many more pigs and make a very tidy profit off this one filly. 

It wasn’t too bad a deal keeping the sows, pigging then out, then selling the whole bunch of pigs except that we were keeping them in modified cow corrals for a while (I know, but we were very young then) and this one young sow was Houdini raised and always getting out. 

Well one day she was out again and I was fed up. I went in, got the six shooter (honestly, we had a permit for it and all) and I remember being pretty dang mad when I stepped out the back door and saw her rooting in my garden. 

I raised up the gun two handed just like “Angie Dickerson, Police Woman” and fired off a round more intending to frighten the sow than to do her any harm. 

To my horror and amazement (it was a long shot and hand guns aren’t all that easy to be accurate with, especially at that distance) I heard the pig squeal and saw her flop down on her side. Oh no!!!! I killed the pig I thought as I went running over there crying. 

She was laying there still as could be  as I looked over the carcuss (through my tear filled eyes) for the bullet hole I thought I put in her. I couldn’t see anything but a little bruise up high on her shoulder. (Did I mention the only bullets we had at the time were some wad cutters used for shooting paper targets?)

All of a sudden to my even greater astonishment she jumped up and ran off, in fact right back into the corral she had escape out of. Apparently that was wad cutter had hit in a spot that knocked her down and just stunned her, much to my relief. 

Now you might think that would have cured her of escaping but it didn’t. However, it did do some good because when she did get out ever after, all I had to do was go outside and clap my hands loud, once, and she would run right back into the pen every time. 

I learned more than the pig. Never after that did I ever pick up a gun when I was angry. Good thing for an old cowboy I know. There were days when I’d have rather shot him than look at him. 

I do believe guns have their place, for protection of self and livestock from predators and to humanely do the right thing for a terribly suffering animal. But better be cool and rational in their use not like a mad Angie Dickerson, Police Woman.