A First

I’m bored today. Excruciatingly so. First time ever. I can’t find one blinking thing to do living in the city that helps. I tried walking, driving, even went to look in a greenhouse. Maybe it’s just a horrible case of spring fever but I feel like if I have to spent one more minute inside I’m going to scream and start throwing stuff. 

I should be out fixing fence, getting ready for the cows to come. Seeing baby calves in everyone’s fields and laughing at the antics of the first gophers of the year. Listening for a robin. Cities suck!

Spring Wish

I’m not sure if you can tell from the photo but inside the little glasses on top of two of my candle holders have little butterflies and flowers (albeit plastic ones).  And little solar panels so the butterflies are constantly moving.  Even though spring is just a wish right now they remind me it’s coming. 

It’s kind of sad I’m missing the spring bluebonnets in Texas and the daffodils in Wales but maybe this spring I’ll see the precious little crocuses blooming in every little dip on big vast prairie. They are my favorite. Crocus and little baby calfs, curled up beside them, napping. 

Whether Weather

Just thought it might be interesting for you to see what the weather was like here as I write this. Obviously still winter. But wait five minutes, it could change. 

The Wall

Dust of a homesick heart. More personal stuff, sorry. 

 I drove to the Brooks today, (so many memories there) and when I left I started to cry and I cried the whole hour drive back to the city where we live now. I actually said, out loud, “I miss the person I used be” thinking about when Brooks was the place we shopped for everything, often groceries after dark and a long hard day in the saddle. 

I try not looking back, but it’s hard since the view in front me is blocked by a really big Wall called cancer. 

I am climbing but it worries me what I might actually see from the top of wall. Will the hard climb be worth it? 

My cowboy must have felt it too; he started talking about wanting a mule again. Once a cowboy always a cowboy. 

My Old Desk

It was Oct 31 and I was eleven when I first met my old Desk. I had just started Grade 6. That was a cold prairie winter I walked clear across town so I could finish out the grade instead of moving to the new school that was just a few blocks from our new house. New to us as it was built in 1904. Cute little place it was. It was my mom that made it that way with her inherited Danish hygge (which means something like cozy). 

The Desk and a few other things were left behind by the older lady that sold my parents that house (for all of $6000). The Desk sat in my bedroom upstairs and I used it everyday, if not for homework, then for painting or writing kid-poems as I often did. 

I don’t know much about it other than that, except that it’s old, way older than me. 

I thought about selling it but could bare too so I plan on giving it to one of my granddaughters. I think she likes to write too. Not sure how to get it to her but I hope she can love it as much as I did and maybe think of me when she looks at. 


A couple of the latest books I’ve been reading. I sure do love the library, free books (for up to 9 weeks anyway). Seems to go with my eccentric new diet. 

Who I Am

Town. Try as I might I can’t get the hang of it. It’s not who am.

This is me.
Death of a Cowgirl

She lived, really lived;

cattle witnessed it.

On long days,

while her horse slept

standing over her

she napped in his shade,

the only shade

(except for her wide brimmed hat).

With her dog  by her side

she rested belly down,

cheek to grass

arms outstretched

embracing her Mother,


Of all the hard day, her favorite

was the ride home,

the bone-weariness

of another useful, joyful day,

her welcome companion;

the tune of heart-singing

to the rhythm of a four beat gait

playing gently in her heart.

It was the move to town

caused her dying, bit by bit,

from the inside out.

Her heart died first

and then her will,

finally her body just gave up too.

Pavement and people

smothered the sky.

Grass became a ghost.

She sleeps blissfully now

under a blanket of prairie.

An old horse, long gone,

shades the spot,

an old dog sleeps at her side.

She lived, really lived;

cattle witnessed it.

Missing Blue

It’s taken me a while to pay this tribute to the best old dog ever. He’s been gone a couple weeks now and hole in my heart is still raw and painful.

He loved me. 

I never had to worry about someone petting him cause when I rode off he was always right with me. Saved my life, literally, more than once. And maybe I saved his too, more than once. We were partners. 

He worked cattle for me from the time he was a five month old pup till he was a 14 year old dog. He was a 40 mile a day dog. Always at his best moving the bigger herds of 600 pairs. But gentle enough to move a single lost calf. 

 Kind of like me, living in town never quite agreed with him. He tried to make the best of it and all the neighbors here loved his gentle, friendly spirit. 
It was a hard decision for me but it was time to let him go. He was in pain. I had asked the Lord to please let me outlive this old dog because I didn’t want him to go through the grief that a dog feels when their person is gone. I was willing, for his sake, to have my heart hurt instead of his.  And hurt it does.

 But all dogs go to Heaven and I know if I can live as good a life as my old dog that when I get to the Gate he’ll be waiting for me. 

Sky Full of Angels

I’m so cheerful today. Found this kitchen-dancing song. So just imagine an old cowgirl dancing around in her kitchen in her apron and cowboy boots  when you listen to it Angels watching Over Me

On a Roll, Laundry Soap

Today I made my own Washing Soda out of baking soda. (So easy, 2 hours on a cookie sheet baked in a 400 degree Fahrenheit oven). Then I used that, borax, liquid Castile soap, and some drops of lemon essential oil to make my own laundry detergent. (Recipie I used in the last of the pictures)

First saurkraut now laundry soap. I’m on a roll to healthier life.