The Difference Between Little Boys and Little Girls

           I have two amazing grandchildren.  Jacy is nine and Logan is seven years old.  Tommy and I raised three daughters and have been very blessed in our relationships with our daughters and grandchildren,

           Yesterday I picked the grand kids up from summer school and preceded to go to Sonic for ice cream then home to wait for Tami.  We were on a tight schedule and had to be in two places at once.  Tami took Logan to his baseball game and I took Jacy to her swim meet.  It is amazing to watch how fast they are growing up and to witness the degree of agility and talent they possess.  Both Jacy and Logan tried their best and were rewarded with applause and a flood of pictures taken by Nonnie. ( That's Me)!!!  They did great!!!

           It was this morning while helping the kids get ready for school, and then delivering them to school that I got a glimpse of the difference between little boys and girls.  They always make me laugh and today was no exception.

           Logan was dressed and ready for school first.  However, his clothes didn't match and he hadn't brushed his teeth or hair. After we ate pop tarts, I sat down with Logan and wanted to know if he was ready to go to school. "Sure, Nonnie".  I suggested he go brush his teeth and hair and find another shirt.  He looked at me like I was speaking, Arabic!!!  Looked at himself and said, "Nah, I"m fine"  I told him to look again and make a few changes.

         We got the shirt changed, the hair combed and he said he brushed his teeth. I wouldn't swear to that.:)  I washed the sleep from his eyes and noticed with great pride again that he has my eye color.  Everyone in our family has varying shades of chocolate brown eyes....complements of Tommy.

        However, Logan has my eye color.  It is an indefinite, changeable color that is usually affected by the clothes we wear or if we should happen to cry.  It varies from gray, to blue to light brown to green.  With flecks of each color present at any given moment.  Some young woman one day will be lost in those eyes.

        He is built like Melodi was at his age. Lean and always on the go.  He never walks into a room----he glides, slides, runs or slips in quietly to scare me----but he never walks.  He is a funny little monkey!!

            Meanwhile, Jacy couldn't find the "right" shirt to wear with her shorts.  Tami took care of that and came up with an outfit that pleased Jacy.

           She asked me to fix her hair.  She has the thickest, silkiest,  most luscious hair.  It is naturally curly and has a mind of it's own. The color is a mixture of three shades of brown with honey blond shades thrown in the midst.  Since it was already hot, we decided to put it up in a pony tail.  She wanted everything to be perfect, before she left.  And she was.

           Jacy is an "old soul".  She worries about people and their happiness.  She can hear Logan cry in a crowd and be the first person to his rescue.  Jace is a lot like my mother.  The older she gets, the more I see it....and that is a good thing.

            Since they attend two different schools, I decided to let Logan out first. His school was closest to where we lived.

           In my mind he would jump out of the car and be inside the school in just a matter of seconds.  This is where the "little boy comes in"!!!  He told me he loved me, messed up my hair and jumped out of the car.  Then he looks back and farts--on purpose!!!  Laughing at the looks on Jacy and my face.  Then he saunters toward  the school door.  He kills an ant or some bug. Stops and scratches his butt, waves at us again. Stops and watches the school bus go by and waves to some kids on the bus.  Stops and waves at us again and eventually he is at the door.  After another minute of monkey faces and waves, he enters the school.  Finally!!

          This is just about the time Jacy says, "Oh I hope I am not late.  I am getting a perfect attendance award Friday."  We are in reverse and out of the parking space to make sure she gets the "award".  Everyone and their dog, was in the same mindset I was in.  We were a tad bit late.  It was 8:03 a.m.  She was supposed to be there at 8 a.m. I wanted everyone out of my way. So did the other people!!

          Finally, we arrive and Jacy gets out of the car. She tells me she loves me three times and that she is going to miss me so much.  We blow kisses to each other.  She walks about three feet and turns and blows me another kiss. I sit there thinking, I hope I never forget this morning. Jacy walks on and finally enters the school.  Other children were entering as she did, so I feel assured her "award" is still in tact.

          It was a wonderful way to start the day.  Hectic, loving, funny with just a touch of wistful nostalgia. Remembering my girls and getting them ready for school---with only one bathroom.  It can be done, although it was never done quietly.

         I enjoyed the morning with my grand kids and my memories.  I look forward to doing it again soon....farts and all!!!  Did I mention that Logan can also play music with his arm pits?  Yep, there is a little bit of difference in little boys and little girls-----it is wonderful to watch.  Viva la difference!!!!

Summer Lightning and Other Things

          We have had an especially harsh Spring.  The atmosphere was so unstable, it became explosive at times.  Tornado's ravaged parts of Missouri causing loss of life, homes, jobs and any resemblance of a stable life. Joplin was hit the hardest. It is still in the early process of recovery.  Some people will never recover,  Their pain and the horror of the stories they tell, almost too painful to hear, much less have to endure.  When we hear of strong storms and have tornado warnings now, we who love storms, think again, of what could so easily happen anywhere to anyone.  It changed us all somewhat, some more than others.
   
     All morning I have been thinking about the things I love especially about summer.  Since I am not a big fan of hot weather and sweating, there has to be other things that keep my interest in this faze of our life.  I started jotting down things as they came to mind about summer.  They are basically events that will be shared by every one in America, in some way or the other, through out the summer months. It is little things that now catch my eye and my imagination.  The simpler life gets, the happier I am.  This is a new revelation for me.  A new outlook on life that I like.  Simple---very simple.  I doesn't take much to make me happy.

        1.  I love summer lightning.....or" heat lightning" as we call it.  It isn't going to cause a storm.  It is just there and then it is gone. One of the many light shows that summer has for us.  When I was a little girl I wanted a horse, never mind that we lived in the middle of town, I wanted a horse.  I had decided on her name, "Summer Lightning".  She would be fast and full of spirit.  I never got her, but years later when Tommy and I had our own place, we had horses.....Summer Lightning was not one of them.  She was for another place, another time. 

        2.  I love to sit outside at night.....late into the night and watch the stars and just listen to nature's music. To drink coffee and think of years gone by or of the years to come.

       3.   I enjoy the fireflies. Always have, always will. They bring a touch of magic everywhere they go.  Everyone needs a little magic in their lives.....whatever form their magic will take.,

       4.   Like most people I enjoy the water.  Doesn't matter to me if we are swimming or fishing or just looking at water---I enjoy it.  It soothes me, bringing me to a place of inner peace.

      5.    Grilling out with family and friends. People loosen up in summer.  They are more themselves.  For some reason they seem to have less worries.  It could be the beer that accompanies feasts.  Whatever it is, we enjoy the company of  friends and family alike.....with or without the beer.

      6.    All the projects that were planned in the winter months, start to materialize.  Tommy finished buying wood for my art room yesterday.  I hope we get started on it tomorrow.  It will be a wonderful place to sit year round. Lots of light to paint by and to watch the seasons change.  I was telling Tommy the other night that we could drink our morning coffee out there and watch it snow from 3 sides. I lost him when I said, "We would be in our own snow globe"  I know him--he will like it as much as me, I just have to remember he was a Marine and the "snow globe" was pushing his manhood just a tad too much!!!!

     7.    I like knowing that I am going to Florida and see my oldest daughter. This year we will probably go in Sept. or Oct.  There is hot weather and then there is Florida Hot Weather.  We have been there in April, July, and October.  We went twice in April and the weather was perfect.  July however is too hot for me!!  It is almost as hot as Yuma, Arizona----only Yuma did  not have the ocean or gulf.  People need vacations. They need a break from the everyday life to reconnect with their own form of "magic".

     I am excited about this change in the seasons, just like I am each time of year this happens.  It is something new to look forward to experiencing.  I love the four seasons, and as much as I gripe about the weather.  And we all know I do that A LOT!!!

     There are things I love about each season. Things I look forward to occurring.  Tonight it will be another bonfire.  It will be quiet as both Tommy and I get lost in our thoughts and just unwind from the day. For several hours we will stop, look and listen......because tomorrow the world starts again.

The Lost Ladies

                                                One of the Lost Ladies


             I enjoy going to antique malls and just looking at things from the past. I like to see what people value and what is easily sold for a dollar.  I am always amazed when I walk by a box of old photos and see people who no longer matter to anyone.  They are nameless, as a rule, old in particular and  they once lived some sort of life.

            There was a time when their existence mattered to someone, or at least I hope it did.  The lady in the above picture, would not let me leave her in the box.  I picked the picture up and was amazed at her beauty, her clothes.

           Her frame was metal and had been painted brown.  It was chipped in all sorts of places.  The hanger for the picture was a paper clip.  When I took the picture out of the frame, I discovered it was a cutting from an old newspaper. Crumbling in my hands I very carefully placed her back in her frame.  I had all sorts of stories run through my mind. I finally decided that she was some sort of movie star or a model of some sorts.  Judging by her clothes and also by the "racy" picture on the back of her page!!  She definitely had an affect on someone. Whatever her story, she has a place in my home.  I hope she will be happy.

         I continued to rummage around until another photo caught my eye. It was very old and seemed to speak volumes of whispers that I could not understand.

       These pictures "talk" to me.  I have no reasonable use for them. I don't know who they were, what they were, but I just feel sorry for them, because they no longer matter to family or friends.  They are lost and sold for a pittance of change.  They lived, breathed, loved, worked, made some contribution to the world and then died.  Somewhere along the way, their story became lost.

           It is not just a few pictures that I find, but boxes of them.  Along with bits and pieces of their life---perhaps.  At one antique" cubby" I found an old handmade quilt, a Singer treadle sewing machine, doilies that were crocheted and this picture of three women.

          It was probably made around the turn of the century judging from their clothes and hair styles.  They are very pretty young women and resemble quite a bit. I would say they are either Mother and 2 daughters or 3 sisters.  I wonder if the things I was rummaging through belonged to them? Maybe they did. I wondered why these things were pitched.  I know  we can't keep everything that belonged to our ancestors.  Life goes on and we have to make room for other lives.  How do people decide what to keep and what is disposable?  I wonder what mattered to these 3 ladies and if they feel forgotten?

       I wonder if they agree with the decisions their heirs made? We will never know. Maybe in the long run it doesn't matter, for some reason to me, at this point in my life it matters.

      When my mother died, we had to go through her belongings. We had to decide what to keep and what to give away. Things were given to family members and friends. Some things had to be discarded.  Pictures were divided up among us, but not one photo of her was thrown away.  Hopefully they will be passed on to other generations who never got the chance to know her, along with her story.

      I hope her story lives on too.  She was quite a lady.   It is not easy disposing of the possessions of some one's life.  It never feels "Right".  However wrong is feels, it is still necessary to do.  It is all part of life and death.  Memories are  so easily lost, perhaps we who still live, need to be a little more careful with someone else's life.

       So now I have a new hobby.  I bring home lost people and I tell their stories.  The stories may not be exactly true, but it is what I see and hear when I look at their photos.  Somehow I think they would approve, after all, they are the ones who wanted to come home with me ---for some reason.
 

There are Septic Tanks and then there are----Septic Tanks

         This little area of ground, not much bigger than a fat man's grave, has caused quite a bit of contention over the past five years.  It is our septic tank, and I think it looks pretty, considering what and where it is.

         When we first realized we needed a new septic tank, there was some disagreement concerning where it should be placed.  I wanted it back farther toward the woods.  Instead, it ended up right in the middle of the back yard!!  I figured what the heck, I would just plant flowers on it and make another flower bed.  However, Tommy did not want ANYTHING planted on in.  His reasoning was that we might have to dig it up in another 20 years and we would have to mess up the plants.  That is definitely a "man" thought.  Who cares what will happen in 20 years?????   We will both be in our 80's ------I just hope we remember where the bathroom is located!!  I am certainly not worried in the least about digging up the septic tank or the flowers!!

          For the first year I was good.  It was Fall and I didn't yet have a plan in mind for the huge mound of dirt.  However, my kitchen window faces the back yard. Every time I did dishes, all I saw was what could easily have been a grave. The closer it got to Halloween the more I had "bad" thoughts.  It looked like a grave----might as well have some fun with it.

         I  placed a huge cross in the middle of the dirt mound and wrote on it "Here Lies Jimmy Hoffa".  I may have had a few Halloween decorations thrown it to make it look a little more festive.   I thought it was funny---I was the only one who thought it was funny.  Tommy looked at it and then me and said,"What the Hell???"

         We also had a weekend neighbor, who thankfully lives in St.Louis, stop and ask what we had buried in the back yard.  I was just about to tell him when Tommy stopped me in mid sentence, and told the man the truth.  I still wish we had let that joke run for awhile.  Mr. Nosey Pants would have been on the phone before we could have made our second pot of coffee.  I often wonder if anyone would have shown up to check out our "grave"?  I doubt it, but it would have made for and interesting story.

          As winter arrived, so did the snow.  "Jimmy Hoffa" was replaced with a snowman.  It looked pretty in the snow.... our own mini mountain.  Then came Spring and all the rains.  It was pathetic and I knew we had to have flowers.  The fastest growing and the fastest to spread flowers are Day Lilies.  I love them.  So I planted bulbs and in a few weeks green leaves popped up everywhere.   Tommy was livid for awhile and then got used to them. They have tripled by now and I think they look pretty.  We have sense added a silver gate, a bird house and a forsythia bush to grow behind the gate and up the bird house.

         When we sit outside at night, Tommy still occasionally mentions that "someday we will have to dig all that up".  I just let him ramble on.  If we do--we do.  But I am going to enjoy the view while I can.  If you live in the country, you either have a lagoon or a septic tank.  That's just a fact of life.  The way I look at it,  since we only get one chance at this life, we might as well enjoy the view---no matter where it is.

Odd Things Find Me

              Today Carol and I went to the Brass Armadillo, looking for unusual treasures from the past. I never go with something in mind that I want to buy.  I like to just wander around and see what people value or no longer value. I let "it" find me.....and it always does. Today was no exception.  The last time we were in Kansas City I bought two WW11 newspapers, a few used postcards and some old pictures that wanted to come home with me.

            This time I bought a replica of a painting that used to hang in my Mother's home for years. When I rounded the corner to one of the kiosks, there stood the painting.  It bought a flood of memories back to me.  I knew I had to have her.  I have no clue where I am going to hang her, but she will have a place in my home.

           I have recently become enamored with old photos of people I never knew.  I wonder how all these old photos, memories of someones life, no longer mean anything to the families.  Surely they aren't all dead, because someone is willing to sell them for a dollar.  I think it is sad.

           I also find it fascinating.  I looked at hundreds of pictures today and five insisted on coming home with me. No matter how many times I put them down, I would eventually find myself back to their basket.  Two photos are from World War 1, in a place called Montfaucon. I Googled it and found it was a war site in France,  Over 14,000 Americans are buried there. The photo was made after the bombings, lots of rubble and soldiers. I couldn't leave them in an old box.

         Another is of a young girl's obituary. She died when she was 19. I wonder how, where and why?  There is a story there and I think she wants it told.  Another, is a small round photo of three sisters, or close relatives, because of the resemblance.  It looks like it might have been taken at the turn of the century.  They are pretty in their high collared blouses and long skirts.

        The last one Carol bought me. We both saw her and wanted her. It is a fragile newspaper clipping that has been framed. It's picture hook is a paper clip. This girl definitely has a story. In fact all these photos have stories.....wanting to be told, if to no one else but me. I will listen to them, look at their pictures and try to imagine what their lives were like.

         It may be an odd thing to collect and even an odder thing to write about. However for some reason, odd things find me.

Sometimes I am the Wife and Sometimes I am the Mule

           I have been married to Tommy long enough to know that when he gets out his chainsaw, I am going to be working very hard---whether I want to or not.

          Last week was one of those occasions, when we worked from sun up to sun down---almost.

          I was busy cleaning out my flower beds and doing some replanting, when I heard the chainsaw crank up.  I kept working, playing like I didn't here the buzz saw in the garden.  I knew it was going to be just a matter of minutes until I heard, "Hey babe, are you busy?  I could use your help for a few minutes"  Translation----"you are done messing with those flowers---time to get to work".

          Sure enough that is exactly what happened.  I trudged over to the garden and asked "What's up?"  Tommy grinned and said and I quote, "We are finally going to cut down the trees that have shaded our garden too much. We are letting the sunshine in!!!"

          Wow!! wish I was as excited as he was---it's only been 30 years that we needed that done.  He was just waiting for the mood to strike, I guess.  I asked him if he had a plan or were we just going to wing it.

          Since we burn wood in the winter, I am used to us cutting and splitting wood.  However, we seldom cut down our own trees.  He explained that the only tree I had to help with was the BIG tree that was leaning towards the garden.  Actually, it wasn't all that big....maybe 10 or 12 inches around and about 30 feet tall. My job was to make sure the tree didn't fall across our fence and into the garden.

         I knew from the beginning that the plan had faults...BIG FAULTS!!!!  However, Tommy had faith that I could do this.  I had none whatsoever.

         The process wasn't all that hard and in theory, on Mars-- it might have worked, but never, ever in our back yard ---with just the two of us.  I was the mule, and when he cut the tree I was supposed to pull the tree away from the garden fence and land it on our side. I shook my head and really wished I had a xanax. 

        Tommy placed the rope around the tree, then behind a bigger tree about 15 ft. away, then it was my turn.  I was not to wrap the rope around my hand but anchor my feet and as he cut--pull and guide the tree across the fence.  If I had been a mule--it might have worked.  If I had a mule--it might have worked, since I was neither a mule nor had one, I couldn't do anything with that tree but watch it fall--across the fence and right smack in the garden---all 30 feet!!

       Tommy looked at me ,"What the Hell happened?"
       I looked at him, "Looks like the tree fell in the garden!!"
       Tommy, "Did you even try to stop it?"
        Me.  "Of course, It's a frigging tree what did you expect me to do with it?  Say Whoa Tree--and it would stop?"
        Tommy fuming ,  "We"ll just have to do it the hard way---get ready to chunk the wood over the fence as I cut and move as many branches out of the way as you can"
        Me "Frigging tree--it's hot--and I am tired"
       Tommy, as hot and tired as I am,  "Well, you should have held the tee~~"
       Another round of expletives from me, concerning where he could put that tree!!!"

       We decide to take a break and cool off---maybe in the process we will come up with an easier plan.

       We went inside our house, cooled off and drank about a gallon of water. We both apologized for getting short tempered with one another. Soon we were going out the door, to face that damn tree again.

       There was no Plan B, we had to cut the tree up and move the branches.  It was as simple as that. My first job was to move the branches as he cut up the wood for winter burning.

       I am severely left handed.  It comes natural to me to move everything to the left side.  And that is what I did. I was amazing. I got in there and did the ole heave ho and threw those branches across the fence in record time.

       Only problem, Tommy wanted them on the RIGHT side!!!!  Well, he should have told me or stopped me.  I was not moving those limbs again!!  Sooo after I got all that crap moved to the RIGHT side and we threw the chunks of wood across the fence. We were done!!!!  In more ways than one!!!  Both of us were exhausted, smelled less than fragrant and I was itching up a storm.  We called it a day!!!

       I was in the house and in the shower before Tommy could even get out of the garden.  It felt wonderful and I revived a little bit, not a lot but at least I didn't itch!!.

       Later that night we had a long talk about our day.  I told him that I really could not handle a tree, did not want to handle a tree and that I was no MULE..  He just chuckled to himself, and said, "Aww Babe you will get the hang of it. It's not all that hard"  More expletive's came to mind but I kept my mouth shut. I am very easy to live with, but I draw the line at being a mule!!!  I understand why mules are so stubborn, and why they balk all the time.  It's hard work!!!

      Father's Day is coming up and  I do believe my man is getting a mule ???  It will be the best investment I ever made---unless I have to ride it!!. And knowing Tommy the way I do---I will be riding that mule, probably while the mule pulls a tree down!!!

     Hmmm, maybe I need to give more thought to his Father's Day present..  I think Tommy might enjoy watching me fall off a mule----just a little too much!!!  This is probably not one of my better ideas.  However, we live in the woods and there are plenty more trees he wants to cut down.

      As Scarlett O'Hara said in, "Gone With the Wind", when she shook her fist and swore to God she would never be hungry again-----   well,I will never be any one's mule again!!!" But, I know in my gut, that is not the way this is going to be.

     We are partners, and we need each other's help.  I just  think we need to take turns being the "head" and being the "ass".....how hard is that? To me it is the American Way!!!  Now if I can just convince Tommy......

One of the First "Rolling Stones"

        During the past two years, I have been consumed with finding out about my past.  I wanted to know stories of long lost ancestors. Who they were, what they were like as people. What country did they come from--just any and everything I could find out. What I really craved was the stories about their lives.

        I can write stories about my life, my children's, grandchildren to a point, parents, grandparents, great grandparents and then the stories get sketchy at best.  That leaves hundreds of relatives, whose blood I carry and know virtually nothing about. I don't want these people to be forgotten. Although I am afraid most will be. I am trying to write a collection of stories, that are facts about ancestors I never knew. Each thing I learn is exciting to me.

        Melodi has been doing all the hard work. She is very interested in this and has found most of the facts and I intend to write the stories.   She has traced my father's side of the family back to 1581.  And is in the process of  tracing both  mine and Tommy's family ancestry.  She has run into a dead end on Tommy's side but she did get to the 1600"s.  They have a lot of Indian blood and the records aren't as clear or have been lost.

        Most of things we find are dates of marriages, births, deaths and an occasional picture or a story. This is how we pieced together one such family member.  His name was Rowland Stone. Both names came from his parents.  His father was named William Stone and his mother was Jane Rolland.  That was a common practice in those days, to give the son the mother's maiden name as his first name.  It is still a common practice in the South, especially among the wealthy. 

       It appears that Rowland was born on Aug. 1,1764 in Londonary, Ireland.  He states that he was brought to America---Pennsylvania to be exact, about 3 years before the Revolution and lived in Pennsylvania for 5 years.  He moved to South Carolina during the Revolution.  He was drafted there and became a part of State Militia of South Carolina towards the end of August 1780.  Which according to my calculations made him 16.  He served under Capt. Samuel Rosamond.  Their mission to supply and protect Northwards Mills on the Saluda River.  He served 7 months and continued to live in South Carolina for more than 30 years.  After that, for some reason Rowland moved to Tennessee and lived there for another 20 years. 

        Somehow, somewhere during this time, Rowland met and married Elizabeth Miller, who was originally from Scotland. All I know about her, are her life and death dates--1777-1853. I wonder if they had children. As far as I know none were listed.  I would love to know when they met--how they met.  Was it during the war or afterwards?  Did they marry as teenagers or later in life.  All I know for sure is that somewhere in Rowland's 81 years, his named was changed from "Rowland Stone" to "Rolling Stone".  I wonder if it was because he moved around a lot or because he had a little bit of "old hippie" in him even then.  I hope it came from a good sense of humor instead of a typo made years ago. 

        Until I can find out more, I am going to believe that "Rolling" and Elizabeth were gypsies at heart. That they had a good life together and traveled across the mountains always in search of the next adventure.  I am sure their life was hard and scary at times. It was all unsettled land. They had to battle for everything they ever had.  I hope at the end of their lives, they thought it had all been worth it.

        Who knows, maybe Rolling had a verse rambling around in his head that always made him look for more than what he had. It might have even gone something like "I Can't get no Satisfaction"  We will probably never know, but I think it would be cool if he did.

Tonight was a Perfect Night

           Every so often, it seems the planets align, nature complies with perfect weather and the people involved are in sync with one another.  Tonight was such a night for Tommy and me.

           We had worked outside all day.  The heat was intense and regardless of the heat and humidity we had to mow.  With all the rain we have had, we could literally see the grass grow.

           I planted flowers and did a little bit of transplanting to my area of the yard I call " Matlache".  It is a spot at the far end of the yard that I refer to as" my old hippie outlet." I have a red fiber glass motor boat that I have turned into a flower bed. I drug in an old white board fence--that I am painting yellow tomorrow. I have been transplanting hostas and planting zinnias.  I have bird houses, feeders and wind chimes everywhere.  There is even a dead tree painted red....just for a little color. I enjoy "playing" out there.  Today was a good day to play.  It is looking pretty out there---in an odd sort of way, and I like that.

          After everything was done, we sat down in the swings and breathed a sigh of relief. Everything looked pretty---at least for a week.  It was already after 7p.m. and neither one of us wanted to go in.  Tommy started a small fire  in the fire pit and I put on coffee, but came out drinking a Coors beer. It was delicious
---when I am hot an ice cold beer tastes wonderful. We turned on the radio and decided to put my "tomato tree" together that Melodi and Jenn gave  me for Mother's Day. That was fixed in a few minutes.  We are keeping it down by the fire pit. I think I will add a few hanging baskets out there also.

          The sunset was beautiful and the fire kept the bugs away.  Then came my favorite sounds of the night.  The bull frogs sang their melody.  A few tree frogs are still mating and they had a heck of time for about 40 minutes---good for them!!!

         As it got darker, the fire flies started to light up the forest.  It was amazing. And very magical.  I have always had a love affair with fire flies. When I was a little girl, I was sure they were setting the stage for the fairies to come out later.

        Tommy stoked our fire and it shot off ribbons of yellow and red that disappeared just as suddenly as they appeared.  The wood would pop and shoot sparks up 5 or 6 feet. It was like our own 4th of July.  We were totally at peace.  It was a good feeling---a good place to be.  We were on our land, watching natures home movies.  Why do we ever stay inside and watch t.v. when we  can have this every night? 

       Even our dogs got in on the magic. They both found a spot around the pit and went to sleep....they were at peace too.

       The world moves so fast and people are so stressed that at times it is necessary to pull back to a slower time and let nature do what she does best-- She does magic with a capital "M".