Planting trees

Well as if we don't have enough trees on our property....my husband the "Rooster" decided to plant another 13 trees. They are beautiful and I guess you just can't have to many trees. What do you think?

I'm Back!

I am finally feeling better after my surgery 4 weeks ago.

I had 2 bulging discs removed from my cervical spine. They were pressing on my spinal cord and in danger of causing paralysis. They removed the discs from between C2, C3 & C4, C5. Replaced them with a plastic spacer that reminded me or a plastic bolt. The doctor then put a titanium plate in front of the discs to secure them. The surgeon went in through the front of my neck moving my windpipe and vocal cords to the side. This caused a huge amount of swelling and I have had a lot of trouble swallowing. The swelling is finally starting to subside and I was able to eat my first soft food last night. Before that it was cream soup, jello, pop cycles and ice cream. The good thing about that is I lost 15 lbs!

Anyway I am back to myself again and anxious to keep up with my blog as well as reading all of my favorite blogs. I received many get well wishes and a very nice card from Vickie of Whispers of Inspiration. Thanks Vickie.

Old Things

I love old things, old books, old friends,

The lovely way an old tree bends

Above a litte clapboard house,

A tiny yard still as a mouse.

A zig-zag fence of cedar rails,

A stout old ship with mended sails,

Tall trees around a village square,

A chest of thing, old silverware.

An old log house beyond the town,

Its oaken rafters falling down

Yet holding in each chimney stone,

An ageless beauty of its own.

I love the sheen of oaken floors,

Wrought iron hinges on old doors,'

The sound that flowing water makes,

The weathered brown of cedar shakes.

I love old things....timeworn and frayed,

Upon whose heart the years have laid

A kindly touch as if to show

The beauty of their inner glow.

Edna Jaques

Happy Father's Day

My Father joined the Marines at the age of 17. He fought in 5 major battles during WWII. His best friend was killed right next to him at Pearl Harbor. This and all the horrors of war caused him to suffer from what the Corp called "Shell Shock". He contacted milaria during the war and was hospitalized in New Zealand. He was missing in action for 19 months and when he returned to the states was stationed in Pocatello, Idaho.

He met my Mother at the base in Pocatello, Idaho and they married soon after.

They had 2 children. Myself and my younger brother. He was a truck driver during our years together.

He suffered a heart attack and passed away at the age of 34. This was due to a weakened heart caused from the milaira he had during the war.

I miss you Daddy and wish so that I could talk to you and that you could see your grandchildren and great grandchildren. You would be so proud of your family. I remember sitting on your lap in your rocking chair and I remember you tieing my shoes and I remember you bringing ice cream home for us. I didn't have you for a very long time but I will always remember and I will cherish those memories always. I love you Daddy....Happy Father's Day

A Wonderful Mother's Day !

My husband amazes me! He comes up with the most unusual gifts and he is so thoughtful. He got me this amazing gift from Pajama Gram. www.pajamagram.com It is a beautiful hat box with a beautiful robe inside....what a great idea!

Love You Rooster !!!

Our Home

Our home was one of simple style

With a dear and cozy look;

It had the warmth of Mother's love

In every little nook.

Lace doilies and lace tablecloth

Crocheted by Mother's hand

Were placed with loving care upon

Each table and each stand.

But more thatn things our eyes could see

Within theat home held dear

Was comfort that it brought to us

To have our mother near.

When heartaches came and teardrops fell,

We knew we could endure;

For Mother held us up in prayer,

Her faith was strong and sure.

Though years have passed, I often go

Back through kind mem'ry's door

To visit that old home again;

ANd Mother's there once more.

My Mother's Hands

I want to dedicate this to my dear Mother Wanda June
She is 82 years old

A Mother's Hands

My mother's hands are clever hands
That cook and sew and clean;
And yet they never seem to tire
Of everyday routine.

She goes about her work with pride;
And though her day is long,
She always keeps her heart in tune
And lifts her voice in song.

My mother's hands are helping hands
To those who are in need.
She always thinks of other folks
And strives by words and deed

To lift the fallen, cheer the faint,
And give them hop anew;
To show them that beneath each cloud,
There lies a patch of blue.

My mother's hand's are wrinkled now;
But in each deep-etched line.
I read the history of her life
An clasp those hands in mine.

Reginald Holmes