"I would like to do something this afternoon and it involves water." I suspected this would arouse Sam's interest.
The water hose was lying in the flower bed surrounded by a pile of gray sand. I touched it with my fingers. Sam said, "It's coming from the well through the hose." I thought maybe not. "If it's gray," he said, "it's coming from the well."
"I asked the Lord to help me wake up earlier every morning and He gave me a paper route."
Cindy Webb, former paper carrier
On Saturday, Sept. 22 at 8:45 p.m. the autumn equinox will occur and yet already school supplies fill the stores, fall catalogs arrive daily and traffic builds around college towns. While spring brings a season of cleaning, fall brings a season of sorting.
"Every gardener I know is a junkie for the experience of being out there in the mud and fresh green growth. Why? An astute therapist might diagnose us as codependent and sign us up for Tomato-Anon meetings. We love our gardens so much it hurts."
In the middle of the day even cats refuse to go outside.
Looking out the glass doors, I watched the bottom fall out of the sky. When I went into the gym it was a bright, sunny, cloudless day. I leaned on the door and wondered when was it I stopped playing in the rain?
My good friend, we'll call him Richard, caught up with me at church. "Girl," he said, "did you see this issue of National Geographic? It's about all that plastic ending up in the ocean."
After about the fourth time a frozen baggie of crappie fillets fell out of the freezer and onto the floor, I figured we needed to find some different recipes to use up some crappie fillets.
"Make Your Bed," by Admiral William H. McRaven (U.S. Navy, retired), lay on the coffee table.
Early spring brought lots of rain. Prairie lakes were full; spillways flowed like streams. Daily Sam checked water levels of local creeks and lakes. He checked Grenada Lake where crappie grow large and plentiful. High water levels are not conducive to spawning crappie.
There's some things I notice and some things I don't. Sam suggested I notice things like if there's water standing somewhere where it shouldn't so I can let him know. We need to find out where the water is coming from, especially when we are in the season of drought.
The birds we love empty the feeders about every half hour, with a little help from the squirrels. Once we had no squirrels, but lately there's been a buildup.
In the last few days I've been speechless, and I can only blame it on the profusion of beautiful flowers in and around the yard.
"Brumation" describes the hibernation of reptiles and amphibians; it's not exactly deep sleep.
Spring comes every year, and yet it's new every morning. Sam left before dawn, headed to the fishing hole. With fishing it's important to be first to the hole. I roused slightly, saying our goodbyes, then dozed off again until I heard the birds singing.
My neighbor Joe stopped and asked if I had my hummingbird feeders out.
There are few things cuter than a bunny rabbit munching on a newly-sprouted dandelion. Between the days of rain and warm sunshine the yard has exploded with yellow dandelions, green clover and tiny white flowers, for which I have no name.
We were sitting at the breakfast table lingering over bowls of oatmeal when Sam read out loud, "DeWitt Jones is a National Geographic photographer who has used his profession to celebrate what's right about the world."
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