Have ya'll ever pondered "Can Preachers Have Sex on Sunday" or had to answer questions like this Ozark Farm Chick does here on the Ponderosa like, "Where's The Bull"? Maybe you've yearned to read 'bout "Cow Chip Classics" or "I Believe in Blabbing"? Your readin' habits may lean toward violence and adventure stories like "The Hormone Bomber", "I've Fallen Off My Pedestal and I Refuse to Climb Back Up" or the likes of the "Dangerous Donuts" that deal with judgement and culture shock with a little udder balm and live bait thrown in. This is a small sample of the humorous "sweet, funny, reminders of God's heart" Jeanette Levelllie has in store for ya'll in her new book, " Two Scoops of Grace with Chuckles on Top."
Folks, I gotta tell ya'll right here and now ya'll should be all over this book like a starvin' hobo on a fresh made country ham sandwich. I had a blast and a half readin' it! This rockin' pastor's wife has written from her extremely hilarious life adventures in the form of easy read short stories which are supported by scripture and summed up with the knowledge of biblical points. Believe me when I say there's not a dry word in the lot. The seventy two stories can easily be used as a daily devotional or simply a wonderfully funny yet meaningful piece of God's word. If "Two Scoops of Grace with Chuckles on Top" don't light your fire, your wood is wet!!!
I met this upliftin' beautiful gal over at her blog " On Wings of Mirth and Worth "and fell in love with her inspirational humor and quick wit. Seems others have too!!! Heck, this award~winnin' author is more popular than a slimy juicy night-crawler at a fish hatchery. Miss Jeanette authors a humor/inspirational column, 'God is Bigger' in the Paris (Illinois not France) Beacon News and is published in Guidepost. Why, she even has stories in the "Love is a Verb Devotional" with Gary Chapman (ya gotta love that Gary!). Not only does she fill her calendar with public speekin', she's written for magazines, greetin' cards and poems for calendars. Yep, this girl's busier than a one eyed man at a burlesque show!
Oh, did I mention that this gorgeous author's generous as all get out too? Ya'll can win one of ten free downloads of Jeanette Levellie's debut humor devotional, "Two Scoops of Grace with Chuckles on Top," for your very own readers or a $100.00 gift card by sharin' this post link on Facebook, Twitter or your blog. For each 'like' on Jeanette's Author Page, Two Scoops Book Page and her personal Facebook page, follow her on Twitter and her blog and she will count each of these acts as another entry. Please enter as many as you can and pop over to let her know at 'On Wings of Mirth and Worth'. Sorry, all the links won't allow me in since I don't Facebook or Tweet. Shoot, I'm just a simple kinda chick... it's just the way I fly!!!
Originally known as the Hi~Fi's then the Versatiles this smooth soundin' group became The Fifth Dimension toward the latter part of 1966. I can pick up 'Two Scoops" and "be taught to laugh when I find cow patties in my field 'stead of daisies", "discover the bottomless heart of God" or "grow in the acceptance of myself and others" as I read this delightful devotional each and every "Day by Day!!!
Ya'll can purchase "Two Scoops of Grace with Sprinkles" on Top at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and CBD.
Check out Scoops book trailer here.
Jeanette's contest ends midnight May 10th and winners will be announced Sunday May 13th.
Good luck ya'll!
To say my best friend and I were naive or a bit green would be a vast understatement to say the least. We Teeny Town gals were honesty greener than frog snot the first few months of college life. Why, we had to scoop up our jaws when we heard our female coeds cussin' and ya could'a knocked the both of us over with a single feather when we saw our worldly peers light up. Don't get me wrong, we'd traveled and seen the bright lights in big cities of the world but we were still greener than green gourds through a goose!!!
We'd settled into our dorm room unpackin' all the absolute necessities of life. Things like jumbo hot rollers, our favorite record albums, Smith Corona typewriter and of course our mandatory high school gym suits. We'd been required to squat, run tires and climb that rope to the moon and back in these one piece beauties over the past four years. Yep, we were most prepared to be sophisticated college Freshmen.
Not only would this be the first day of our college physical education class, it was our first coed Phys Ed. class. This meant testosterone oozin' hunks would be involved. Filled with the hand sweatin' heart palpitatin' anticipations of any red blooded seventeen year old chicks, we suited up for the most important class of our freshman year. The two of us exited the dorm more excited than a couple of grasshoppers in a chicken coop.
We trotted 'cross the SMS Campus like we had arrived and knew what we were doin' directly into the McDonald Arena to meet our fellow classmates. Faster than a hunted deer can leap a fence our excitement turned to pure ghastly humiliation as we saw the others dressed in 'regular' tees, cut~offs and the like. Even our coach said, "girls you don't have to wear uniforms here." 'Just melt me in a puddle and let me evaporate right here. We had to walk all the way back to the dorm in those Jolly Green Giant gym suits. In public no less!!!!
After class we dashed behind bushes, clung to buildings hidin' like 007 himself. We stuck out worse than a pure white Charolais heifer in a field of black Angus cattle. Our hearts sank when we saw no matter which way we slithered, we could not avoid the OK Corral. Oh, just kill me now....I knew I was gonna die!!!!
The OK Corral was a wooden fence that ran down both sides behind the Student Union Building. The Corral was 'the place' studly fellas gathered to 'girl watch'. It was here the Teeny Town Green Girls were gonna have to parade by the hormonal males like models down a runway close enough to feel the gents breath and hear their most colorful (mostly concernin' green) comments.
Upon returnin' to our dorm room I vowed to burn my Jolly Green Giant suit to never be worn again. That's exactly what I did first trip back to the farm. My BFF obviously did not do the same. She kept it. Not only had she kept it, she sent me these pictures last year. To this day just lookin' at these PE uniform pics makes my blood rush turnin' my face hot brilliant red once again.
Del Shannon's number one song hit the top Billboard Hot 100 back in 1961 where it remained number one for four weeks. He sings in the Pop and R&B song of wonderin' why she ran away but this is one gal who will never forget why that day she and her friend tried to "Runaway!!!"
Other than bein' stickier than a three year old's cotton candy fingers at a three ring circus, the day began just like any ordinary summer Sunday. This chick get's up to put on her Bare Minerals face while Farm Boy fixes his weekly Big Top Breakfast. Hub's goes to check cattle while I clean the kitchen, make the bed and do my hair before walkin' out the door for church. Hubs teaches the Adult Sunday School Class while I teach a Pre~Teen Class then Kid's Church.
We often laughingly chant, "day of rest, day of rest, day of rest" while dartin' out to the car. Seems like our Sundays are busier than a one armed cab driver eatin' a meatball sub. The weatherman on the radio confirmed our day was gonna be hotter than an honeymoon hotel makin' the humidity stickier than a prickly cockebur. Just another day in the Ozarks. So we thought!
That Sunday evenin' we drove into Tiny Town to attend evenin' services we call 'Share and Prayer'. The meetin' was amazin' but we couldn't see the greenish~yellow tinted sky through the blue stained glass windows. 'Wasn't 'till Pastor George said, "it's lookin' really strange out here," we recognized that all too familiar eerie hew and decided to beat the storm home instead of stayin' in the safe confinement of the churches basement. We hoofed it to our car while the sky colored like a sea sick yellow Lab closed in on us.
We no sooner left the churches parkin' lot 'till the wind started blown like perfume through a High School Prom. Farm Boy turned into a skilled demolition driver as the hail and large debris began poundin' the car. Determined Hubby swerved this way and that down Main Street dodging large tree limbs and lawn furniture landin' in our path.
We turned down Wall Street and if anything, the violence worsened. Suddenly, I morphed into Jamie Gertz who played Dr. Mellisa Reeves in that 1996 Twister movie 'cause I vaguely remember turnin' to Hubs and sayin', "I gotta go Julia, we got cows!!!" This Ozark Farm Chick went through a tornado when I was five and they are my biggest fear. I gotta tell ya, between the hail, the limbs and the stuff in the road all I wanted was my Mama!
I realized the unrelentless storm was followin' us like a starvin' dog chases a meat wagon when we hit the highway headed toward the Ponderosa. We met a car flashin' lights warnin' us of limbs on the highway. Then a pick~up flashed us. Oh this can't be good...a tree!!! My panic didn't lessen as we swerved this way and that avoiding downed trees and giant limbs. The storm hung over our head like a three day hangover on a drunk no matter how fast we traveled.
I was scared baby, and desperate measures were in order. I've been known to remind God Himself that He can calm the storms. Shakin' harder than the Parmesan Cheese shaker at Pizza Hut, I prayed and prayed hard as we came to the end of the blacktop and entered our dirt road. Oh, Lord...please let us have a house!
Oh my goodness glory, what a mess things were. My cottage garden, birdhouses or bistro set will never be the same. Ya'll can only imagine what this did to my OCFD (obsessive compulsive flower disorder). I'd removed some of the large limbs before I snapped the pictures but we had a house. Praise God! One limb came right down the corner of the house with enough force to plant it deeply in the ground. God had answered my prayers...again!!!
Our lives may become tangled more than a ball of knittin' wool attacked by a litter of frisky kittens or twisted like a crown of thorns yet the Maker can pull us apart and put us all back together stronger than ever. He does it with ease and compassion no matter how violent the storms may come. All we have to do is ask, call his name or just simply whisper the name of Jesus. Yep folks, He loves us that much. How awesome is that???
Born in Spring Gulley, South Carolina, Ernest Evans was raised in the projects of South Philadelphia, Pennsylvania with his parents and two brothers. Facin' the twist and snares of life he formed a street~corner harmony group at the ripe old age of eight. Life was not easy for this fella but God took his tangled life and molded him into a great performer of his time. It was his boss, Henry Colt, owner of Fresh Farm Poultry who tagged Evans with the nickname, 'Chubby'.
A great twist of fate is that Dick Clark invited 'Chubby' to do a private recording for American Bandstand. After completin' an excellent impersonation of Fats Domino, Clark's wife asked the young singer's name. Evans replied, "well my friends call me 'Chubby'. Clark's wife then substituted 'Checkers' for Domino. Hence the name...'Chubby Checkers'.
This hit song was released in 1960 from Checkers very unlikely twisted fate. Whether life becomes as twisted as big old elm tree's roots or it's the physical storms that scare the bajabbers outta ya, I'm so thankful we can call on the One who stills the waters when we tangle ourselves into "The Twist!!!"
Sweeter than Granny Walden's Karo Pie, this little dancin' queen had her Grandma Muzzie's 'Happy Dance' perfected by her first birthday. Born October 14, 2005, little Miss Sarah Grace truly graced our family with her infectious smile and the energy of a Duracell battery.
One glance from those sparklin' chocolatey brown eyes as big as saucers can melt your heart faster than this Ozark Farm Chick can leap over a corral panel with a wild~eyed bovine breathin' down my knickers. This nectarous Fairy Princess is too darn stinkin' cute and knows how to use it baby. Honey Pie will roll those big browns when she's in trouble and say, "I love you Mommy (Daddy)!!!"
Miss Candy coated Pippi Longstockin' broke her little wing flyin' off the arm of the sofa a couple years ago and sported the cutest tiny purple cast. Her Mama, The Latin Lovin' Hillibilly, braided her pigtailed braids 'round a coat hanger for that year's Christmas program. The teen gals backstage had a blast and a half flippin' the braids up...then down each time Gracie was offstage.
Her spiraled curly Shirley Temple look gained her a flower girl position in my nephew's hitchin'. Sarah Grace was most enchanted with the chocolate fountain. It is the factor in most girls dreams isn't it??? I know, I need to hit more of those Chocoholic's Anonymous meetings.
"Oh, my dolly finally came," were the words squealed when she opened the present we handed her. See, Sarah asked for a Hearts for Hearts Nahji from India doll that arrived late the day before her birthday. We left for Texas before Sleepin' Beauty awoke on her big day so she didn't get her dolly 'till a week later. I must confess...Grandma's heart sank like a cement block. I felt baaaaaad!!!
After her dolly came I think ya'll can tell that Miss Gracie had a very happy number six. I swear that smile could light up New York City at Christmastime! Folks, don't let all this syrupy sweetness fool ya though. If the need arises she can be tougher than a two dollar steak takin' both her big brothers down at the knees but most of the time Sarah is sweeter than Charlies Chocolate factory on it's best day.
It was 1963 when an English rock band sang "Sugar and spice and all things nice, Kisses sweeter than wine, Sugar and spice and everything nice, You know that little girl is mine." My little Sarah has a big old piece of my heart and just like The Searchers, I too can belt out how much I love my little" Sugar and Spice !!!"
Ya'll hop on over and congratulate Shug over at 'My Steps Of Faith' who's sweeter than a warm bath filled with decadent Belgian chocolate herself. She is the winner of a signed copy of "Social Climbers" written by that generous Beth over at ' Social Climbers'. Congratulations Shug and a big old Ozark 'thanks' to Beth. Woohoo!!!!
Uglier than a bucket full of armpits and thinner than an Amish phone book, Farm Boy buys these half starved sale-barn cattle to pretty up and fatten out. Believe me, these hungry bovines eat better than a empty bellied three hundred pound trucker at an all ya can eat buffet when they belly up to the feed bunks here on the Ponderosa. It sure doesn't take these Stravin' Marvins long to plump up and slick out.
Heck, these two beauties could join Beth over at" Social Climbers" for a Monogram Monday. Just look at how these two high society 'it' gals are monogrammed to the kilts. Folks, don't get your bloomers in a bundle, these ladies were previously monogrammed prior to landin' on the Ponderosa.
Shockin' as an electric fence durin' a thunderstorm, this Ozark Farm Chick was once a sorority girl herself! Yep, I've climbed a social rung or two myself but these days I'm a bonafied 100% Farm gal. Now, if ya'll a want in on the well kept secrets of the Main Line Socialites, I've got the book for you! Even an country lass from the Ozark Mountains can run with chic elites sportin' names like Bibby, Coco and Lilly followin' Beth's advice. Do ya feel as confused as a hungry baby in a topless bar dropped smack in the middle of a social settin'? The 'Preppy Bible' holds the key to your grip on scalin' the social ladder.
That sweet generous Beth over at" Social Climbers "is givin' one of my lucky readers a signed copy of her book "Social Climbers". Now, if that won't sweeten your bitter tea! All ya have to do is comment. That's it. I love the KISS method. Ya know, 'keep it simply sister' but please go visit this special blogger and say 'howdy'! Go, put your feet up and sit a'spell.
In 1990 the real 'it girl', Madonna, wrote and sang, "All you need is your own imagination...So use it that's what it's for...go inside, for your finest inspiration...Your dreams will open the door." This hit song is an upbeat dance~pop tune with heavy influences of the seventies disco era. After readin' Beth's book, you too will be strikin' a pose and singin' "Vogue !!!"
Ya'll have a blessed and beautiful Christmas. " Social Climbers" can be purchased at Amazon.com.
Goats are about as scarce 'round the Ponderosa as front teeth on a back woods hillbilly. Farm Boy's daddy had a few curly horned wild critters climbin' the bluffs 'round here the first couple years of our moon~eyed marriage. There was the in and out goat Dad brought my young son. The one they prayed for under the table in Miss Judy's Primary Sunday School Class 'cause, "Mama was gonna kill it!"
Dad had purchased the wee goat from a industrious little fella at the sale barn in Eldorado Springs, Missouri thinkin' it would make an excellent pet for Geek Son. He hated it! The kid stepped on son's feet and butted him when he tried to bottle feed it plus the dang critter stripped the bark off all my strugglin' saplings. Poor little sale barn fellas heart was as broke as the Ten Commandments so Dad made the trip back, picked up the goat and returned it to it's rightful goatsick owner. Nope, no goats...we're all about crazed wild~eyed cattle here on the Ponderosa.
Now, Margaret Andrews over at 'Nanny Goats in Panties' is just wild as a pack of dogs with a three legged cat when it comes to goats. She's a freelance writer who lives in California with her handsome hubby, Mr. Mudpuppy. Margaret's amusin' blog will leave ya in stitches. In fact, she's hotter than a menopausal Nanny Goat in a pepper patch since she's been voted Best Local Blogger makin' KCRA's A-List in 2011. She's published folks. Yep, this sweet gal writes how to tutorials and presently writes for CBS Sacramento's website. Margret has even had a hand or two writing content for popular video games. You'll find her currently workin' on her screenplay and novel. All you cooks out there lookin' for new recipes must check out her goat recipe box. Just sayin'........ Do ya'll ever feel like growin' your blog and gainin' followers is kinda like nailin' jello to a tree? You work hard slaving over a hot computer writin' your little heart out but still feel it's like goin' to the goat house for wool? Well, I've got the perfect book for you!!!
Say you want your blog hotter than a Billy Goat with a blowtorch, just pick up Margaret's book "Sticky Readers: How to Attract a Loyal Blog Audience by Writing More Better." It's a lighthearted funny read yet heaped full of wonderfully useful bloggin' advice. Margaret sent me a copy since I'm in the book! Yep folks...this Ozark Farm Chick is now famous. I'm kinda in the don't section of metaphors and similes (pages 39-41) but accordin' to the expert I can get by with such overkill 'cause I'm Nezzy and it's just the way I fly!!!
That sweet generous Margaret has offered to give a signed copy of this most informative book to one of my readers. Thanks darlin'!!! To enter...just comment....easy peasy!!!
Filled with hits like "Angie", "Silver Train" and "Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker)", The Rolling Stones released their hit album August 20, 1973. This was after a move in 1972 to Jamaica 'cause it was one of the few places that would let 'em in. Seems bad boy Keith Richards was kicked outta nine countries and this was a way to keep the band together. Ya'll have got to read "Sticky Readers" to help keep cute little goats and your blog outta " Goats Head Soup !!!"
("Sticky Readers" can be purchased in paperback and Kindle versions at Amazon or Barnes & Noble)
Her name could have easily been Hatchet, Buzz Saw or Wood Chopper but 'round here she's known as Pepper. This little Blue Heeler is wound tighter than a new girdle and has the jaw force to gnaw through most anything. Bred in Queensland, Australia, these popular ranch dogs are cultivated to herd wild~eyed cattle by 'nippin' at their heels. That's how she came to acquire her second name, Nipper. She joined the Ponderosa early this spring where she practiced her 'nipper' skills on this Ozark Farm Chick's naked heels. Now, that's about as cozy as wearin' barbwire panties. Ya'll should of seen the back of my heels! Ouch!!!
I do declare, trainin' Pepper Nipper not to jump on others or chase cars is goin' slower than a bread wagon on biscuit wheels down a dirt road. When this little prunin' expert sees cars or bodies she's off slicker than a chased greased hog on a downhill run. I swear she was more obedient as an itty~bitty puppy than she is now. She's gotta be in those rebellious 'teen' years.
Pepper has cluttered my otherwise immaculate yard 'cause anything she can drag, carry or kill ends up smack in the middle of it. She could chew the north end off a south bound polecat (skunk) or most anything else. She has pulled the drain tubing outta the bottom of my car, eaten the corners off the house, bedded down in my daylilies and massacred a forest of cannas. 'Chews 'em off right at the base folks and hollers, "timber"! The other day I was workin' in my rose garden when she nipped off all open blooms off slicker than a schoolmarm's leg. Hubs tried to convenience me our little Nipper was just helpin' deadhead and truly wasn't out to slaughter my beautiful gardens. Nope, this chick's not buyin' it! It's a conspiracy...she's disserverin' my efforts.
Puttin' all her trouble aside, Pepper Nipper is as smart as they come and very affectionate. She's always at my side (or on my heels) and will forever be my protector 'cause she's loyal that way. The song written and sang by Paul Anka for his girlfriend Annette Funicello (yep, they were really datin') hit the Billboard Hot 100 single chart in 1960. Donny Osmond's 1972 version is the more familiar adaption we all know and love today. Although Pepper tries my patience to the max and back again, I've definitely found myself fallin deep into this "Puppy Love"!!!
Prettier than a spotted heifer in a pansy patch , she could charm the dew right off the roses with her bright smile. Christy Brinkley certainly had nothin' on Mama 'cause she was definitely an Uptown Girl all the way. Yep, she was about as country as the Macy's Day Parade or the last curtain call at a Broadway show.
She was accustomed to fancy dresses, high heals and Sunday's hats with white gloves. She was oblivious to toilets flushin' and fresh water flowin' from the kitchen faucet. A bath was enjoyed effortlessly as was the food purchased from the corner market. Mom was footloose and fancy free enjoyin' the company of great friends and livin' the single life. (Mom's on the left) That was until she fell like a rock for a solider boy who was stationed at Sandia Base in Albuquerque who was as country as cornbread. They married living there 'till Dad was discharged from the army. Now ya'll know ya can take the boy outta the country but ya can't take the country outta the boy so they were off to Missouri faster that a hungry roadrunner can snatch a lizard!
This was Mom's either fish or cut bait moment. Through sheer determination and a bit of stubbornness she seemed to adapt faster than green grass through a goose. Suddenly goin' for a swim on a hot summer day included a stock tank or a nearby pond. A leaky barn roof always took priority over the leaky house roof. Her shoppin' list not only included groceries but items like fuel filters, tires, overalls or spark plugs. The hair on the back of Mama's neck would stand at attention when Dad would say, "could ya come and help me a few minutes." She knew that she'd be returnin' a few hours later doin' only Lord knows what.
Movin' a city slicker to the country is almost like teachin' a pig to dance...it's a waste of your time and it irritates the pig but this gentlewoman did it with grace and style. She learned the language of her new found Hillbillyland. The words my Granny Walden spoke like put it in the 'safe' (cabinet) or I've got to go to the closet (outhouse). Yep, Mama watched her Mother~In~Law leave the house and walk around the bushes goin' to the 'closet'. It was a world they might relax on the 'davenport' (sofa) and if there was a chill in the air, cover up with a countypin (quilt).
Mama learn to handle critters she'd never seen before with ease and that lookin' at the ingredients for a supper recipe just might remind her to do her chores. Talk about Venus and Mars, this Farm Chick can't imagine the culture shock my Mother endured in the city to country transformation but she thrived and soon became a mother herself givin' all she had to her new baby daughter!
Here's this Ozark Farm Chick supported by the arms of the most important woman in my world, my Mother. This child bearer was an encourager and a prime mover in my life. She nourished me both physically and emotionally. She pampered me, kissed my boo~boos all while bein' my biggest motivator. She taught me humor and how important it is to laugh at myself. Most important of all, she taught me how to be a mother and a grandmother. I'm blessed with an amazin' role model I feel privileged to call Mom! Now, I'd be lyin' like a no legged dog if I said that the city didn't come out every now and again 'cause she dressed me like this.......
I'd be as baffled as Adam on Mother's Day without my precious Mother. She has grounded and centered me teachin' me both love and grace. I want to offer this song written by Babyface, sang by Boyz II Men and produced by Motown Records November 11, 1997, "A Song For Mama", to my sweet beautiful Mama on this Mother's Day. 'Love ya Mom!
My dear Granny Walden used to say, "girl...if it has testicles or wheels watch out 'cause it's gonna give ya a whole heap of trouble." This is the same wise woman who told me when she found out I was about to marry a dairy farmer, " you walk into that milk barn and act like ya never seen a cow before, child, 'cause if ya start milkin' you'll be the one stuck with it 'till the day the good Lord takes ya home." I decided my Granny was one smart cookie so I obeyed and never ever milked the cows but let me tell ya'll I've done 'bout every thing else up and down these Ozark hills and hollers that would boggle a three year old's most vivid imagination. We farm wives learn to read our men but I've never ever made it a secret that my favorite sayin' 'round here is, "ya want me to do what???"
In plannin' our fairytale life this Ozark Farm Chick didn't include visions of rakin' hay, drivin' loaded semi's outta swampy mud of the silage pit or pullin' said semi' outta that pit backwards with the big blue tractor. Nor anywhere in our weddin' vows did I say," I promise to stand at corrals covered in sweat, manure and the dust that the wild~eyed cattle stir up to fill vaccination syringes, hand knives for castration, pass dehorners to lop of horns, hold straws to inseminate cows and still have a good meal on at noon for the hungry Strongbacks (farm hands) all while singin', I Am Woman." I am as ya know... (super) Nezzy! Durin' the thirty eight years of wedded bliss to the man of my dreams, I've learned a thing or two about our dog huggin' critter lovin' rural farm fellas.
They can remember the purchase price of the old cow that bit the dust ten years ago, the fertilizer rate five years ago, the seed population from last year, the current cattle market average and crop yield rates but cannot remember the gallon of milk you need without a written note and five reminder calls durin' the day. I've learned that these fine gents will never ever throw out one of those plastic five gallon buckets or any rusty bolt and piece of scrap metal that they may just need someday. We farm chicks know that our men may know nothin' about fashion but they all have a special cap they wear to work, one especially for the local livestock barn, one just for a farm auction, another to plow in and the 'good' one that's put back for that rare vacation.
I would never ever ask my Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love for the use of his pocket knife 'cause we farm wives know that same knife has been used to castrate newborn calves, scrape the manure off nasty barn boots and peel an apple for the hungry man's afternoon snack. I've always had a theory all farm fathers teach their sons to run over their wife's favorite flowers or tiny strugglin' tree so that 'she' will never ever 'let' ya mow the yard again!!!' I can hear 'em sayin' , "ya only have to do it once!" Sure worked that way here on the Ponderosa.
There are just a few items we ever lovin' farm spouses would like for our honeys to know about us. A good farm wife can throw a meal together in two minutes and serve that meal six hours later if necessary. We are as comfortable operating large farm equipment as our guys would be in a barbed wire jock strap. Just sayin'! We don't view a trip out the the workin' pens on a Saturday night to sort cattle by flashlight as a night out. A trip to Bass Pro is not considered the perfect date night. We truly aren't convinced a deer head or a dead varnished fish adds ambiance of our home's decor. We farm chicks love our fellas more than chocolate cake heaped with fudge icin' and we'll do anything for 'em.
Hubs took this picture on the way to Jefferson City last summer. Yes Virginia, there is really an annual Testicle Festival. "Walk Like a Man was the song The Four Seasons recorded under some extraordinary circumstances. March 2, 1963 the voices of lead singer Frankie Vaili and the bass tones of Nick Massi echoed in the recording studio of the Abbey Victoria Hotel which caught fire durnin' the session. The group locked the door and refused to leave before the song that remained at the top of the charts for three weeks was completed. Gotta be a man thing! It wasn't until the firemen broke through with their mighty axes that the group left the building with their hit song in hand determined as a farmer gatherin' their last stray into the herd. I'm thrilled I married my farm fella and wouldn't have it any other way. These country men sure know how to love a gal as we gush and swoon while watchin' 'em "Walk Like A Man!!!"
This is one chick who doesn't own a four~leaf clover, wear a penny in my shoe, lug around a horseshoe in my purse, dangle a rabbit's foot from my neck yet I feel as lucky as the proverbial fat cow who wouldn't fit in the cattle trailer to the slaughter house who got turned out to pasture in high grass!!! Woohoo!!! Back a spell I won Pioneer Woman's new book, "Black Hills and Tractor Wheels" over at that sweet Teresa's place, Grammy Girlfriend! Now, if that don't crank your tractor ya must not be breathin'!!! Let me tell ya'll this is one book I can identify with! Teresa is one terrific gal who adores sharin' her love of God with others and is as about as proud as a Grammy can get when it comes to her adorable grandkiddos. Her blog oozes the love she shares with family,friends and fellow bloggers. She also has a wonderful Christmas blog A Baby Changes Everything. Life has been tougher than a two~dollar steak for her this past year so please, go pay her a visit, sit a spell...take your shoes off! I have to tell ya'll the blender I've been usin' was ancient and about as useless as a Popsicle stick in quicksand! Tammy over at Flat Creek Farm gave me the great opportunity to enter her CSN Store giveaway for a fifty~dollar gift code. I'd already set my mind I was gonna buy a blender if I won. Imagine my delight when my Missouri Christian sister contacted me that I'd won but wait folks...it gets better. I hopped over to the CSN site to use my gift code and found a Cuisinart blender originally priced $110.00. This Ozark gal usually gets the standard Osterizer blender at Wally~World but this dream was marked down 46% makin' it $59.85. Well, call my mama 'cause this was somethin' I could do and the blender even qualified for free shippin'. Does life get any better? I entered my $50.00 code payin' out of pocket only $9.85 for my beautiful $110.00 Cuisinart that I love more than a chubby farm boy loves cake. Talk about squeezin' a quarter so tight the eagle screams!
Please go visit beautiful Tammy over at Flat Creek Farms where you'll find all kinds of rural things like rooster saddles (now there's two word I never thought I'd use together) and some of the cutest little mini~donkey's you've ever laid eyes on! I've heard it said, "keep Nezzy away from the magic markers...she's dangerous!!!" Yep, I love to draw, doodle and have a colorful blast, it's just the way I fly. I was doin' quite the happy dance here on the Ponderosa when Kimberly over at Forever Daisies notified me that I'd won her Sharpie and Sticky Note giveaway. Yippee tie yie yay, if that's not just finer than frog hair split four ways! Ya'll know gal can never have too many Sticky Notes or Sharpies so I'm in Doodle Heaven! Kimberly is a precious small town girl who'll do just about anything to get that perfect photo. Wonder if she gives lessons? Her creativity flows through her lovely blog and when it comes to flowers she's just a daisy kinda gal. Stop by over at Forever Daisies and meet Kimberly.
Yep, this is one gal who doesn't need a good luck charm to be blessed. Oct 15th, 1961 Elvis Aaron Presley recorded one lucky pop song that reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and remained number one for two weeks. Born in Tupelo, Mississippi, Elvis didn't need a good luck charm either 'cause everything he touched turned to gold but just as The King sang this fine tune ya can hear this Ozark Farm Chick beltin' out that great old sixties hit "Good Luck Charm!!!"
Several weeks ago I was hit with something so intense that it stabbed into my heart faster than a champion butcher could debone a chicken. Not childbirth, broken bones nor even a hit in the chest by a seven hundred pound wild~eyed bovine has come close to the pain I have endured. I feel as though I've had a Cardiectomy. Just like a star in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, this chick might as well been a living sacrifice in the underground temple of the Thuggees and let Mola Ram reach into my beatin' chest and yank my heart right out. It has left my spirit lower than an Ozark black snakes belly in a muddy tractor rut. Sadly I am in a position I can do nothing but pray and believe me I've prayed. Forgive me Lord for I am not a patient person...I'm Nezzy, your action figure, a doer, a fixer and a peacemaker. Yep folks....I'm a Martha. I'm the gal ya see speedin' across the room or yard like a flash of lightin' makin' sure that everyone is well fed, havin' a grand time and gettin' along with one another. I take action. It's the way I fly....I'm just that kinda chick. I see a need, I get~'er~done! Now, will ya'll see me sittin' at the feet of Jesus' soakin' in every sweet breath of His Word like Mary??? You bet your sweet bippy ya would but you could wager your bottom dollar I'd be trimmin' his toenails and scrubbin' his callouses while makin' sure he had his favorite snack within reach along with a nice cool tall glass of iced tea in his holy hand. I'm about as confused as a hungry cow on AstroTurf just waitin' and prayin'. It's Hubby who reminds me that we don't have the answer but we know the Almighty One who does. It is Hubby who recognizes the helplessness in my gaze and tells me, "it'll be allllll~right!" He says it so well. I know it will be all~right 'cause I know who holds tomorrow but that sure doesn't mean I sit still well or the pain is any less consuming.
Barry and Robin Gibbs touched on the subject in their soft~rock adult contemporary ballad sang by the Bee Gees in 1971 released by IBC Studios in London on the Atco Label, "How Can You Mend A Broken Heart." I sing out the words, "please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again!" I know God is in control and I covet your prayers. I'd be much obliged if someone could tell me " How Can You Mend A Broken Heart ???"
Note: A Cardiectomy is a scene outta Indiana Jones Temple of Doom where the heart is removed from a living sacrifice. I have not had a heart attack, surgery,my heart literally removed or any physical ailment concerning my heart. What I'm experiencing is totally emotional.
The road is long, eleven hundred and forty-five miles down and eleven hundred and forty-five miles back. There are times the miles seem to crawl by slower than a slimy snail drunk on molasses crawlin' up an ice hill in January. I knew the trip would be a difficult one but this Ozark Farm Chick had no clue how stressful it would be. We have traveled this road many times before but this time the trip to Brownsville, Texas was for my Daddy's memorial service. It would be the last goodbye and a time for closure.
I was lookin' forward to leavin' the frigid temperatures behind but dang, if we didn't hit ice in Temple, Texas and the the temps in Brownsville were colder than a bankers heart on foreclosure day at the widow's and orphan's home. I didn't expect the shingles to come along and play tag over the Grand Tetons on the second day of the trip. I'd rather jump barefoot off a six foot ladder into a five gallon bucket full of porcupines than to speak in front of a room full of adults but Mom requested me to offer up a tribute for my Daddy . Yep, I sucked it up, swallowed my fear, shoved down my emotions and presented it just for my sweet Mama. I had this Norman Rockwell vision of family time togetherness but the days were full and crazier than a run over dog. I have to praise my children for jumpin' in to do whatever it took to support my Mama and contribute to the beautiful service.
Dad himself was a giver and would of been so proud of the generations he helped to create. He sure was delighted to be a grandpa himself to my two in the photo above. Dad was there to pick me up when I fell. He's the one who always made sure I had 'enough' money. He's the one who brought a truck filled with ten bred heifers to help stock the Ponderosa. The one to put Geek Son in his first saddle. The man who told me with conviction that Social Butterfly would survive her heart surgeries and grow up someday to make me a grandmother. What can I say? The man knew his stuff!!! I just pray that I can offer love and support to my family in a way that would make my Daddy's eyes light up and plant that big old ear to ear grin of his face.
Dad was honored with a twenty-one gun salute and the most beautiful flag ceremony I have ever witnessed. A slide show of Dad's life was presented throughout the service. The family released red, white, and blue star balloons were soared into the heavens and a wonderful meal was shared with dear friends and family. Just like our journey, life is like a long and winding road. This was one of the last Beatles song that Paul McCartney wrote back in 1969. Paul actually had Ray Charles in mind as he wrote the words but the road didn't go there. Just as I am elated to be back home, I know in my heart my Daddy is too, 'cause he too has traveled "The Long And Winding Road."
I am a fun loving farm wife.
A modern mother and a gleeful gardening Grandma of eight.An A-type personality with an artful flair.
A primpy person who can also sling manure with the best of 'em.
I am a unique creative creature of God.
I am blessed!!!
