tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2608903382124168392024-03-05T05:27:00.250-08:00aWiNkofwHimsEyUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-14494308199193626342015-07-29T21:49:00.002-07:002015-07-29T22:11:37.503-07:00CoCO-pUFF and her Spoons!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsa8c5FcbDDdrql96dAQYIDm0mTl-cQPlmIA0dMaw6riLA699G0dK4TGq3N_lcIaZrYdB910gdpqn1whbwbMnx-M9JOKQ1i0l8EgFm494pqIA9rC3l3V_tct7GcZSNopHOnuAKodceFw0/s1600/IMG_3886.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEsa8c5FcbDDdrql96dAQYIDm0mTl-cQPlmIA0dMaw6riLA699G0dK4TGq3N_lcIaZrYdB910gdpqn1whbwbMnx-M9JOKQ1i0l8EgFm494pqIA9rC3l3V_tct7GcZSNopHOnuAKodceFw0/s320/IMG_3886.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Nonni loves her noodles or more simply put I love my grandchildren! I'm continually in awe of their big personalities packed in those little bodies. No laugh is more complete than the one incited by a one-of-a-kind robot or giggle boxes that have no off switches........ I adore those "winks" you get of who they are and what they think and why. And then sometimes you just get gob-smacked by their words and they simply leave you in awe.<br />
<br />
CocoPuff creates spoon people. Yes, you read that correctly. Spoon people. In fact, Mossy and I were admiring one of her latest when she began a story and yep, you guessed it....GOB-SMACKED!<br />
<br />
<br />
Once upon a time a young girl (CocoPuff) was emptying the dishwasher for her mom (Laura). This was NOT her favorite thing to do, but do it she must. As she reached the point of placing the silverware into the drawer she was totally ready to QUIT! Seriously, it was all just so very boring! But then suddenly she saw the need, for you see she realized the spoons, the forks, and the knives needed to be home. They were shiny and clean and wished to return to their silverware drawer or rather....their home. As she placed each in their individual slots it was just not enough. She began to hear their cry. For you see, they were not where they belonged. They were not with their entire family. Why, they were foster spoons! Lying beside the spoons, but separated from them were the foster forks, and then there were the foster knives. This was wrong. What was one without the other? This just could not be! The Cutlery Family had been divided and separated. Coco stared down into that drawer at what was so very wrong. No family should be divided and then the answer came. That was it, for as her smile widened and grew, she saw what first she had not noticed. The dividers were movable so remove them she did. Coco quickly made short work of uniting the spoons, forks, and knives. With the placement of the last spoon from the silverware tray she could actually hear their cheers as she pushed the drawer shut and reached for a pan. Emptying that dishwasher? It's never been the same since!<br />
<br />
In her story, Coco saw and acknowledged a problem. She had participated in helping with her family to raise funds for a camp for abused children. At the age of 7 Coco is aware of a growing epidemic in our country. She took what action she could and righted what was wrong. Would you allow me a moment to challenge you as well as myself to do the same? Every year over 3 million cases of child abuse are reported involving more than 6 million children. <br />
In 2013 over 640,000 children spent time in foster care. Folks, foster care is a broken system. Ignoring these growing numbers will not negate the problem. Ignorance is not an excuse. If not us, who? We must educate and participate in stopping abuse of the most innocent and work to rectify a system that even the most over-worked, under-paid, and kind-hearted caseworker will tell you is broken. Please would you take a moment and google childrensrights.org, childhelp.org, and rfkc.org. The last site is an international camp for foster children. It is phenomenal. There could be a camp near you to volunteer in. <br />
<br />
A child needs your help.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
p.s. I have joined the blog hoppers and have thoroughly enjoyed hopping about reading what they've had to say this month. Check it out. Hop right on at <a href="http://thelavenderdrop.com/" target="_blank">http://thelavenderdrop.com</a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-48155879100243473842015-07-01T07:10:00.000-07:002015-07-01T19:27:03.946-07:00Mossy beat the monkeys.......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFM2aLK7ePo_vfTeIJ4ve1soPZbaEtLFyynF-vDLKczsZ9Gngv-g8-ey0JlMjrO307XNKbR3Lcf0bOoGX-XE0K9MXfrc95-VctwzCREvWhRNj_9mA2pzMh_XnwZKCwptZcVa3hSRUYAJ3/s1600/IMG_6936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrFM2aLK7ePo_vfTeIJ4ve1soPZbaEtLFyynF-vDLKczsZ9Gngv-g8-ey0JlMjrO307XNKbR3Lcf0bOoGX-XE0K9MXfrc95-VctwzCREvWhRNj_9mA2pzMh_XnwZKCwptZcVa3hSRUYAJ3/s320/IMG_6936.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
and the monkeys (aka nonni's noodles or my grandchildren) were not very happy about that! Have you heard the wee chant: You get what you get and you don't throw a fit? We ALL were introduced to it this very morning. The morning seemed normal enough. It dawned clear and beautiful and very clearly pronounced to us that it needed donuts, so a dozen of these special-made-to-order beauties were a must. Excitement was palatable as we all poured milk and juice and prepared to devour each morsel of the carefully ordered donuts. Only no one was watching the box. No one saw a corner lifted and not one but two donuts disappear in the blink of an eye. Me and my monkeys (yes, I know this is not grammatically correct and yes, whimsey is spelled wrong, but this is MY blog. If I can't do my own thing here than where????). Oh, how I digress. Well, chalk up first rant of the day. Okay, okay back to the sugar haul. Shock. We were all speechless. Only there was not silence, but a cadence of some kind coming from below. It was coming from Mossy as she shimmied up the table leg and it became more and more clearer the closer she came. <br />
<br />
<i>You get what you get and you don't throw a fit. You get what you get and you don't throw a fit. You get what you get and you don't throw a fit. </i><br />
<br />
Now this might have been somewhat more effective if the little minx did not have sprinkles in her hair and pink icing on her nose! I truly was not sure how this was going to play out. Mutiny was in the air as each of my monkeys eyed each other as the culprit. For you see, Mossy appears to me and as of yet no one else. This can create a real pickle at times! Suddenly, the tide turned and I was once again speechless.....for you see, the youngest began to hum the cadence. The oldest began to chant the words. <i>You get what you get and you don't throw a fit! </i>Giggles filled the air and 10 donuts were quickly divided out by the 6 in attendance. This actually included each donut cut into 4 which was a very good thing as more monkeys arrived as the morning proceeded.<br />
<br />
How quickly the tide can turn! No mention of Mossy was made that morning. As I had followed her progress to the rafters above she gave me a wink and a nod and that's when I saw it! A tire swing. Only the tire was a beautifully iced-pink donut hung by a strip of brightly colored wool. With the ability to only hook one leg through the center, Mossy swung to and fro upside down smiling and giggling as Mossy, Monkeys and Me chanted:<br />
<br />
YOU GET WHAT YOU GET AND YOU DON'T THROW A FIT (muffled only slightly with the many mouths full of sugary delight)!!!<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: #8ece74; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 23px;">FYI: Mossy and Me have joined a blog hopping group and love to check out what this group of women have to share! Check out Jamie's latest at </span><a href="http://blogginginmybuick.blogspot.com/2015/07/just-stop.html?m=1">http://blogginginmybuick.blogspot.com/.../just-stop.html...</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-70494396493326951382015-06-01T12:16:00.000-07:002015-06-01T15:45:14.138-07:00Summer's first LovELY........<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWrnRZQHoM2dSgt-nO09Ueuj75-Wkcrst36MNsjfNog2s0ufFq3359XPpKuiHxZLNjUSTaPNmWGrKVc09I_-Cxf-G5FyHyDUa6mGzLqjPJc7O3l-8MugesUprUyhhl0wbmK_8qKNTrvk1/s1600/IMG_7202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwWrnRZQHoM2dSgt-nO09Ueuj75-Wkcrst36MNsjfNog2s0ufFq3359XPpKuiHxZLNjUSTaPNmWGrKVc09I_-Cxf-G5FyHyDUa6mGzLqjPJc7O3l-8MugesUprUyhhl0wbmK_8qKNTrvk1/s320/IMG_7202.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
As I lay dreamily sleeping last Saturday morn, I began to envision fields of fragrant poppies and a yellow-brick road. Barking happily, ToTo ran ahead and I chased ....... kerplunk. Water splatted on my nose. Consequently, it was now meandering down my cheek. What in the world? I opened my eyes and there she stood! All 12 inches or so with only her nose peeping out between the blooms. "First hydrangea of summer" she chanted hopping on one foot than the other. What an absolutely perfect way to start a day. Also in her bounty was gardenia, aspargus fern, and caladium beauties. That gardenia fragrance must have been the impetus to my yellow-brick road moment. Well, who could resist such a beginning. Pajama clad I hustled to Little Cedar Grove and began to create. Now I'm here to tell you that there is pure perfection in having your first cup of coffee with soil on your hands. I wouldn't recommend it IN the cup, but no cup is more appealing to me than wearing just such a touch. By the way, lil Cedar Grove is my newly-christened screened-in back porch. I have a penchant for naming things, for instance, my backyard is Pandora. There's a story to it all, but will save that for a later post. AND lil Cedar Grove is a mouthful, so look for a nickname to come (another penchant). </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Mossy LOOOOOVES summer. Her antics ratchet up as the first warm breezes begin to stir. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My love for summer begins with God's glory as it explodes in all of nature's displays around us. From the uncurling of the tiniest of fern fronds to the burst of riotous color in a Hibiscus bloom, there is no denying our Creator's hand. As school bells ring for the last time and backpacks are laid down, it's as if a curtain rises to all that surrounds us. From the tinkle of a stream, to the twitter of the birds, I am totally enthralled as the Overture of Summer begins. I'm just saying....may none of us in life's hustle and bustle miss not a single exquisite note of the gift of this day!!! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
p.s. Mossy just tiptoed by wearing a skirt of glued-on Purina small bites for dogs. If that wasn't weird enough, I now see Butchey, Maizey, and Millie with sweaters on. Uh-Oh, these three may be in for a rough day!!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnHq0ETNMpqO4lcZDFGkknEhs_Ot3MMj8YtLCjqEmy6NJCnbp7HHNFwlbMoXSGe8GMiVAAje8xYptFtlLAhZo8etLZFwxyilVFdstRvl5e-VssP6tFjXe2sqM5o7AZ-aUxXif0LcAZg_Z/s1600/IMG_4695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEnHq0ETNMpqO4lcZDFGkknEhs_Ot3MMj8YtLCjqEmy6NJCnbp7HHNFwlbMoXSGe8GMiVAAje8xYptFtlLAhZo8etLZFwxyilVFdstRvl5e-VssP6tFjXe2sqM5o7AZ-aUxXif0LcAZg_Z/s320/IMG_4695.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
FYI: Mossy and Me have just joined and are participating in a blog circle with some fun and creative women. Click on <a href="http://www.blogginginmybuick.blogspot.com/2015/03/perspective.html?m=1" target="_blank">Blogging in my Buick</a> and see what Jamie has to say this month.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-42069437396104054802014-06-16T22:50:00.000-07:002014-06-22T19:07:07.782-07:00I thought she wasn't there........<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK3LZ7tpHiSUTBO57AwRRKnoP8MDV1YUlFjm48z553OchEgM_SaPh4CafAz0xjXM_UTRl0lZP1NmxTRPyT70FSzd_2Q7RTlImzHmnYB3i6CiO2DhfhyXYEfV50m4XcIat2mlooTcwxReJd/s1600/IMG_2136.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK3LZ7tpHiSUTBO57AwRRKnoP8MDV1YUlFjm48z553OchEgM_SaPh4CafAz0xjXM_UTRl0lZP1NmxTRPyT70FSzd_2Q7RTlImzHmnYB3i6CiO2DhfhyXYEfV50m4XcIat2mlooTcwxReJd/s1600/IMG_2136.jpg" height="320" width="287" /></a></div>
I thought she wasn't there. Now, admittedly she's not one to miss a party. So, where, oh where was Mossy?<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I ask you.......how many pedicure baby showers have you been to? Now, as I know the answer you would give, I ask this....... don't you wish you had? Seriously? What could be better than warm wraps, massages, and sparkling toes? All of this while dining on to-die-for-cookies, sugary mounds of mini-bundts, and sipping punch? ALL OF THIS, to celebrate a beautiful-soon-to-hatch be'be' boy and his very special mommy. Yet, despite the lure Mossy was MIA and missed moments of pure delight with those so very precious to me & her <i>or so I thought</i>..... </div>
<div>
<br />
Today told another story. I found her sitting in the punch dispenser, still in a box, still sitting in the car! Her clothes were a tint of blue-green and seemed to be molded to her. Mossy looked up at me as I looked down at her. Her head tilted slightly, her smile slowly spread and a tear gathered just as slowly and began a slow descent. I knew exactly what she felt. I crawled into the back of the car, sat Indian style beside that box. After awhile she began to describe precious moments........for you see she'd not missed a second, but oh how she was missing them now. <br />
<br />
Eventually, we both moved. Me, because old bodies do not allow you to sit Indian-style without exacting a payment and her because the bees had discovered her sugary clothes. Let's just say she moved ever so much faster than I!!! The bees moved in like a swat team on mission and Mossy's mission was too ESCAPE! Neither one of us managed, however to escape that occasional tear that seemed to meander down our cheeks, yet would pass a smile along its way. <br />
<br />
Parting is such sweet sorrow....... <br />
<br />
Mossy & Me. We had an incredible week. So many precious sweet moments, the sugary ones above just a few. As well, there is no longer a where-oh where-is Mossy. Her path is well marked. Just follow the trail of ants....... When, oh when, will she change???? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-61087587540069722652014-04-10T15:57:00.002-07:002014-04-10T15:57:32.647-07:00a grape slushy......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVsbuH8Tpv2yKa-xUTUKd7_iEFGVBYbe2mGc2d_yqTHJg8Rmz6c069G162LFvf9nL4WavD14hN0u0dnuN04_H4qlHRguqwS1HDRxGNYL7k_VxdnHLHlOBljx6ijou-rYguzxzRxANFXua/s1600/IMG_1207.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQVsbuH8Tpv2yKa-xUTUKd7_iEFGVBYbe2mGc2d_yqTHJg8Rmz6c069G162LFvf9nL4WavD14hN0u0dnuN04_H4qlHRguqwS1HDRxGNYL7k_VxdnHLHlOBljx6ijou-rYguzxzRxANFXua/s1600/IMG_1207.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Spring has sprung, arriving FINALLY to my backyard! Has it in yours? I truly hope so, for your sake. Was this not a winter to remember? Jeepers creepers, it would just not give up-I began to picture the Death Eaters from Harry sucking up all warmth that attempted to circumvent all of those cold air masses. Certainly, any tiny tendril that crept up for warmth received icy shock therapy. How does the saying go.....a picture's worth a thousand words?<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtK6MWzArF2_wptHyra_Bg6fUd_z9zfc09Qa7zJhrNKgoaIpnR5IgR9WmvtWTDF_dyoPldF0fiTZYqKNM34Qrl2RZkwhHVk0UKSeg1CrZO4XOI0H0wZxklguIFVuq_5HnRAu-Hv2Udh9Bo/s1600/IMG_1205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtK6MWzArF2_wptHyra_Bg6fUd_z9zfc09Qa7zJhrNKgoaIpnR5IgR9WmvtWTDF_dyoPldF0fiTZYqKNM34Qrl2RZkwhHVk0UKSeg1CrZO4XOI0H0wZxklguIFVuq_5HnRAu-Hv2Udh9Bo/s1600/IMG_1205.JPG" height="138" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">April '14</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_YV6a0-SL61Evv_ESzSRaS3_nqVo4BlndwakdXtdEbigCWrZRTl7OsETHGsbjXJjD5CUmUrX3sYoPYeBdKh-7n-Tk3Tvs-BXBR98Cyy3EjkAxUI9nSgvDUZ9YW3ClqjRriZtXNdroU3S/s1600/IMG_0671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw_YV6a0-SL61Evv_ESzSRaS3_nqVo4BlndwakdXtdEbigCWrZRTl7OsETHGsbjXJjD5CUmUrX3sYoPYeBdKh-7n-Tk3Tvs-BXBR98Cyy3EjkAxUI9nSgvDUZ9YW3ClqjRriZtXNdroU3S/s1600/IMG_0671.JPG" height="149" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">March '14 </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
If your counting, here's a few more to add to the current count of three thousand and eighty. They are of a tale of a small gnome, 16 fish, and a backyard pond. Large ice pellets blasted us one Sunday afternoon, intermittent with snow and rain. What ensued was a very icy pond. It looked like a giant grape slushy! I had a "Glee moment" as Mossy splashed by me to stick her face into the icy mixture. Why, indeed would she even consider doing such a thing? I wasted my breath and asked. And to no one's surprise, received no answer. What she did do, however was whoop and holler like a banshee on fire as she raised her face from the icy depths! Coming up for air, she plunged waist deep back into the pond. What a sight! As her top half became submerged, her legs went straight up. Short & squatty they are, with a tendency to look like tree stumps. I could only stare! Suddenly, I realized the issue. Several inches of floating ice was secondary to the antics of her beloved finned friends. They were escaping. Yes, as ice, snow, and rain battered my Pandora (backyard) the boundaries of the pond were loosing ground. Leaving with the boundaries were Mossy's finned posse. It was an Alcatraz moment, this time! Shivering from the heaven's onslaught, I watched Mossy dive, chase, and slide to collect her chicks (well finned friends not feathered)-all 16 of them. I knew the dangers. As quickly as the waters rose, they would dissipate, leaving stranded the finned: beside the potted pine, upstream behind the falls, peering up below the glider........ You see the problem, too, don't you? Have you every held a fish? Experience tells me that this is not one of their favorite activities. Mossy's fingers I can only describe as cousins to her legs, so add frozen to their condition and lets just say this round-up took a while! In fact, I truly wish that I had had the wherewithal to snap a pic. It looked as if not just ice had fallen from the sky, but fish. Small fish, large fish, orange fish, white fish, spotted fish......sorry, I digress. Dr. Seuss would be proud, though!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Wow, I'm afraid I truly digressed, for what Mossy & I truly wanted to say is HAPPY SPRING!!!!!! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-90854443014049176132014-04-09T20:31:00.000-07:002014-04-09T20:42:38.446-07:00Flipper<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECPrRWvNVkEFS34oOn9_oLTsupMjzaGFmXx402g7AC_2-BFSIJY2nVwtk2Xt4L4n007LFQNfqU4shum2QGS905pQNvsraksuNLmt406GThbO7dGzyMBpXoPG3NEc9b3EP9dOTBuZxBize/s1600/IMG_1010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjECPrRWvNVkEFS34oOn9_oLTsupMjzaGFmXx402g7AC_2-BFSIJY2nVwtk2Xt4L4n007LFQNfqU4shum2QGS905pQNvsraksuNLmt406GThbO7dGzyMBpXoPG3NEc9b3EP9dOTBuZxBize/s1600/IMG_1010.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
Time for a confession......I'm addicted to Pinterest! A serious PINHEAD! Give me an extra few moments at any time and BAM! I'm searching for home design, a new juice recipe, or how to clean a water stain, I'M SERIOUS! Nary a day passes that at least one pin does not appear on my boards. With 127 boards and close to 14,000 in number of pins its like the ultimate mag! One that is totally tailored to your favs! Well, or so I thought until I found a board I did not create. The issue with that statement is that's it under my account and bears the name of such Koi that swim the waters of my backyard pond. Hmmmmm.......<br />
<br />
<b>mosSSSSSSYYYYY!</b><br />
<br />
The dastardly little minx is pinning!<br />
Who gave her my password? Can a gnome pin? Does it surprise me she would choose to pin her buds, Yellow Boy, Red-Head and Iron Man? Nope. She loves her Koi crowd. I can only liken it to humans fascination with dolphins. From Sea World to Atlantis, we want to touch, swim with and document it all with a pic. Disney's 1964 Bottlenose dolphin, Flipper enthralled a certain 7 year old with tales of angst and victory. <i>They called him Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, faster than lightning.......</i> comes to mind just as quickly 49 years later. Fact, Jack......Flipper could overcome any obstacle and save the day on land or sea! Now here's another fact, Jack.......look out <u><b>Mossy the Pin-ster,</b> </u> I'm on to you!!<br />
<br />
For a blast from the past check out: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EifnM3pRLdQ">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EifnM3pRLdQ</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-10925101341408084862012-11-30T21:05:00.002-08:002012-12-01T06:54:37.646-08:00partNErs iN cRIme.....<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6142amORsrnX72f6i4yqhXtdH_JsRB-Q8N7G8xRNii5YkwFfwrqKBoz1rs1KhanclCSgSsmotNRGMG8tV5zMyRz9Muz2b6hRUgZHULBIicvxdjdc1cFbzHfguNHmLHVF9LDRA39dV1Wlt/s1600/2010-4-11+019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6142amORsrnX72f6i4yqhXtdH_JsRB-Q8N7G8xRNii5YkwFfwrqKBoz1rs1KhanclCSgSsmotNRGMG8tV5zMyRz9Muz2b6hRUgZHULBIicvxdjdc1cFbzHfguNHmLHVF9LDRA39dV1Wlt/s320/2010-4-11+019.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Butchey & Maizy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Yes, yes I realize it's not New Years Day! I post a pic of these infamous two because of their recent exploits with the infamous moSSy! I dared to leave the house for 2 hours this Friday evening and WHAT? A zip line. A complete total zip line with thrills & chills! The thrill came as you scaled the bookcase to get to the mantle. Only to then grab on for the ride-of-your-life, crossing the living room to an open doored frig whereby your landing was into a bowl of left-over cranberry sauce slopping then into tidbits of turkey. Truly a brilliant move and one I could quickly see the pure genius of. Mossy had enlisted maiZy and butchey to pull the zip line along greatly increasing the thrill factor. One of them was also poised in front of frig to give several large laps to each participant (for purely selfless motives) as they slid to the floor on a slab of bacon! Helping all into their harnesses and helmets was Thomas (mossy's big brother). <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> Standing at an open kitchen window was Mossy . Here are a few of the jaw-droppers in this scene: a line of squirrels and gnomes (12-15ish in number) in and out on the window ledge, mossy exacting a payment of a perfect pecan for each ride, helmets that were made up of acorn tops tied on with zebra grass, gnomes screaming in delight or was it fear, squirrels chatter-squealing in what seemed like pure abandonment as they sailed above my dining room table. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Please pray-tell, how does one respond to such nonsense? After several moments of jaw-dropping, toe-tapping.......... it was clear (not of cranberry sauce)...........</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);"> I had just enough dental floss to reach from the refrigerator to the kitchen sink! And wasn't there an extra bag of mini- pumpkin marshmallows to soften that landing? After-all didn't I have a craving for pecan pie just last week? </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-56158629094156575132012-11-26T15:38:00.001-08:002012-11-26T15:44:32.298-08:00What lives in your Christmas Tree?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavAb-7PHSalKmY0Bm2h213qURd6FvKshvYRiOyBJoKbuF-xq6sSPyZGEEqhpSObISqNs4tus2evdvUmI6d0GmPY80Ilc_Bg2OMoTcgQj4Q2uXUchfj5zkvEPdvzhoOLziFH8NcAStjo9P/s1600/fall12+180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" rea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavAb-7PHSalKmY0Bm2h213qURd6FvKshvYRiOyBJoKbuF-xq6sSPyZGEEqhpSObISqNs4tus2evdvUmI6d0GmPY80Ilc_Bg2OMoTcgQj4Q2uXUchfj5zkvEPdvzhoOLziFH8NcAStjo9P/s1600/fall12+180.JPG" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.ebay.com/itm/3-BaBy-FAIRY-FAce-MOlds-BOdy-sculpture-DvD-/11042638110">http://www.ebay.com/itm/3-BaBy-FAIRY-FAce-MOlds-BOdy-sculpture-DvD-/11042638110</a><br />
<br />
My answer to this question is be'Be'. Many of you may recall that be'Be' made her first appearance with mOSsy upon her return from Yellowstone. Her immediate fascination and claim to our Christmas tree was delightful and thoroughly enjoyed all season. Much to my dismay her appearance throughout the remainder of the year is sporadic at best. So imagine my delight when I came upon this picture of a doll. Is it not AMAZING! I couldn't believe it when I found it on one of my recent Pinterest forays. Someone else has seen a Be'Be' too!!! This is incredibly close to what mOSsy's little friend looks like! I so wish I could study her as I've been able to this adorable doll. Do you remember that she moves like a hummingbird?<br />
<br />
This is however the time of year that I do get extra time with the beautiful fairy. Her fascination with Christmas trees is palatable. It would seem the more excited she gets the more of the effervescent glow & glitter she leaves in her wake. Now I must say that I've not even brought the Christmas tree into the house and already her glittery path has been woven throughout a vase of bittersweet! I had to check with mOSsy on the reason for this only to find out that indeed she "knows" it's coming. <br />
<br />
It has also suddenly dawned on me that be'Be' has not aged. That is to say she has not moved into a toddler stage. Her baby rolls are as adorable today as they were 2 years ago and the cherubic face complete with dimples has not a single line. Ooooooh imagine, no wrinkles!! This unfortunately is a reality met in your 50s, for if it doesn't wrinkle it seems to sag or bag. Okay, okay, I can hear you wince.....back to be'Be'!<br />
<br />
Anticipation: a wrapped gift, the aroma of your favorite cake baking, a friend's arrival, looking for a gnome or two, etc.etc......<br />
I feel it in the air. I SEE it in the air. Glitter trails circle the room. They are as entrancing as the multitude of twinkling lights that will soon adorn the Christmas tree. So for now, I shall just anticipate along with be'Be.........someday soon that ole tree is bound to make an appearance! And until then........<em>I've got glitter on my nose and my clothes!</em> Who could want for anything more?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-36555102098918202062012-11-24T08:49:00.001-08:002012-11-24T08:49:31.257-08:00Gobble Gobble<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.chicagonow.com/lists-that-actually-matter/files/2012/11/Macys-Parade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="63" src="http://www.chicagonow.com/lists-that-actually-matter/files/2012/11/Macys-Parade.jpg" style="filter: alpha(opacity=30); left: 262px; mozopacity: 0.3; opacity: 0.3; position: absolute; top: 83px; visibility: hidden;" width="96" /></a></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<img alt="Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade Drinking Game" height="266" src="http://www.chicagonow.com/lists-that-actually-matter/files/2012/11/Macys-Parade.jpg" unselectable="on" width="400" /></div>
<br />
Bucket List: #1 Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. What can I say? Childhood dreams are just sometimes as real at <span id="goog_445566535"></span><a href="http://media-cache-ec3.pinterest.com/avatars/mslulubelle-89_600.jpg">54<span id="goog_445566536"></span></a> as they were at seven! Look at those tail feathers! Look at his hat and the twinkle in his eyes! Okay, I get it. As my son stated Thursday...."ENOUGH WITH THE PARADE!" <br />
<br />
Did you gobble til you wobbled? Mossy did. I awoke excited-the first to get up or so I thought. I opened the frig door for a touch of cream and there she was looking a little frost-bitten. "Mossy, why are you sitting on the turkey?" Absolutely not a word came from her tiny blue lips. "Mossssssyyyyy, are you okay?" I cried as I shook her by the shoulders and this time a large very ungnome-like burp came from those blue lips. Which then smacked, as she sprang from the turkey to the shelf above. Now I say, sprang. Nope. It was an attempt to spring but splat and wobble was a much more realistic description. Mossy promptly winked, stretched out on the shelf using a stick of butter for a pillow and asked that I shut the door. I did. But not before, I heard her say, "Happy Thanksgiving to all and to all a goodnight!"<br />
<br />
Confused? <br />
<br />
As I snickered and sipped coffee, I thought of our fast-paced holiday season. Turkeys are running rampant all through my house. That is, momentarily. How quickly, though, will they jump in their box, head for a shelf and make way for reindeer? Do we not watch Tom the Turkey's float roll by only to conclude with Santa and his sleigh? Now I'm not trying to suggest we oust Santa from the parade.....just this one wish...............savor the moment. Mossy was. She stopped to enjoy her turkey. I wish for you the same. So, from Mossy & me.........Happy Thanksgiving! May you stop and enjoy your turkey time!!!!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-49633790990860320192012-09-12T20:40:00.001-07:002012-09-12T20:40:31.253-07:00Don't open that dooooor..............<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnvyF60NK4vXDbbw-6u4z-7TWEkffuoJ0yeBxcHsQ8l2eTmLEtlGy2S1oawmLhxdISG92yauJJpqeRgiTuYTpSL0hV8x6S-RTMb5HvzJqeMnqpsFSIg0DmOtblK8_xY8mlmS2yoUCDfeQ/s1600/2012sept+245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCnvyF60NK4vXDbbw-6u4z-7TWEkffuoJ0yeBxcHsQ8l2eTmLEtlGy2S1oawmLhxdISG92yauJJpqeRgiTuYTpSL0hV8x6S-RTMb5HvzJqeMnqpsFSIg0DmOtblK8_xY8mlmS2yoUCDfeQ/s320/2012sept+245.JPG" width="239" /></a></div>
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">
Okay, fess up! You have them too.....it's the "I cram everything into a cabinet, so don't open that door until you've prepared mentally with at least an Advil or two. Mossy does NOT adhere to any such warning nor does she take Advil! She's more of the I'm-a-reason-you-would-take-Advil! Last week while weaving (no not from spirits) on my early morning path down the hall, I wondered why this door was partially shut. Then I wondered why the door would not open. Oh mercy me! The little holiday decorating freak had been rooting around stirring it ALL up! Pumpkins, and an Easter egg and Santa and a turkey or two laid strewn about the floor. I believe she must have stood inside and dropped kicked the entire collection out. Was she anywhere around? No. Well, I should actually say, she wasn't showing herself or answering my call, but most definitely around. You see, there was the lightest humming of <em>Here Comes Santa Claus</em> from the tub! Pestering is too nice to say of what her actions have been lately. You see the little stinker is OBSESSED with holiday decorations. I mean, you could say, to the<em> Dolly Pardon's character of Steel Magnolia's</em> magnitude. Tooky, would be my adjective. Trashy, might be yours. "Uncle!" I cried, with a need for some coffee. Be it tooky, or trashy, or scary to you the pumpkins are rolling out and I guarantee the little minx will too! </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-81168505755605225742012-05-23T22:15:00.000-07:002012-05-23T22:15:25.929-07:00tOadster time!!!! tOadster time!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivVVsxzTZsPDwxJhnucaK1o-cx3z4YbOe0OiEEt5AIgdvtuG_xaXBWq_fSufHNgZeW1u6kuKSt-Hh7ChzzIGMZV50fS1km3aoTj_hbOJrvPRU_e2pB97Jq8UwqrgxUCU3XSUHdcf4a2YI/s1600/May12+612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" qba="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjivVVsxzTZsPDwxJhnucaK1o-cx3z4YbOe0OiEEt5AIgdvtuG_xaXBWq_fSufHNgZeW1u6kuKSt-Hh7ChzzIGMZV50fS1km3aoTj_hbOJrvPRU_e2pB97Jq8UwqrgxUCU3XSUHdcf4a2YI/s320/May12+612.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
"Guess what time? Guess what time? Tis tOadster time, tis tOadster time!" over and over Mossy sing-songs. She's so excited she can't sit still. Infectious she is, as my pulse quickens and I add another stem or two. You see, the tOadster is a much-adored-little-travel trailer that both Mossy and I are totallllllllllllllllllllllllllllly smitten with. Dreams as big as the Tetons to hitch it up and follow those imaginings call ............. with increasing volume! Now, here is where a large dose of reality should be dumped (I can hear Don's words). The tOadster probably wouldn't make it out of Texas, for you see she has abit of age on her! This is not going to stop this grandmother (of 10 now) and a wee bitty gnome. Seriously, who doesn't have a mile or two on her? No siree, since her arrival the tOadster has been painted, decorated, bejeweled, and why...........simply ADORED! Twas a special gift from he-who-takes-every-opportunity-to-complain-about-said gift! My ears simply do not hear the words of such nay-sayering (not a word, I know)! Here blogy-style I hope to herald of the adventures we two shall simply have to get into. For now........I'll simply paint another toadstool or two and dream of Rocky Mountain streams and grin indeed as the chant continues.......tOadster time, tOadster time...............Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-63930936164080097942012-02-25T22:14:00.000-08:002012-02-25T22:14:20.640-08:00MIA Mossy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhzYj6-KK78eMF040S6KWH9tXOR9VqrlR9MUOjIeXAkRH4jLR8iMg11ibxwDCAw7Slkhh4RtWLGK7BnPP13UN9Veu7ndFggotAexlZqa_JhbQFyPgXj2vv4YFlUgDDx8k4lvyl28dFoXlO/s1600/2011phone+072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" lda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhzYj6-KK78eMF040S6KWH9tXOR9VqrlR9MUOjIeXAkRH4jLR8iMg11ibxwDCAw7Slkhh4RtWLGK7BnPP13UN9Veu7ndFggotAexlZqa_JhbQFyPgXj2vv4YFlUgDDx8k4lvyl28dFoXlO/s320/2011phone+072.JPG" width="320" /></a></div> Many of you remember that Fall seems to bring about an MIA Mossy. Well, imaginably this Fall was no different but it was by the most unimaginable ......<br />
<br />
To start at the beginning is to start with last October when the earth shifted. Only a few of us felt it.....only a few were affected. A life that gave me life was altered and with it mine. A new world was entered which exist everyday, every moment that we all exist. A world so different. We race here. We race there. Not content to perform just one task as we race, we stretch multi-tasking to new heights with communication a fingertip away. Where is your cell phone at this moment? I bet you can tell me. I'd also bet you can reach out to touch it..... But, in this new world such races of task & needs for communication are non-existent. In the halls of a nursing home pass many, but for those who reside there the "racing" has stopped. Let me be clear here in expressing that "racing" has stopped, not life. Confinements to beds, to wheelchairs, to a certain floor, to a garden area, to a building, or to a mind that does not work does not mean that life stops. With a path of hospitals, long term acute hospitals and nursing home, somewhere along the way I lost my Mossy. Seriously. And it was serious! The little imp can make the most of a moment and I can now attest to living some of the longest moments in history. You know how the song goes....".in a Georgia state of mind"? I get "in a nursing home state of mind". I stare. No, not at someone but in an almost frozen state of thinking. So there I was in my "frozen" state and I hear her. Yep, it's Mossy. She rolls by on the arm of a wheelchair chattering away about Be'Be' and the current conditions and numbers of Buffalo in Yellowstone. WHAT? I stumbled forward, stuttering her name, trying so hard to not lose sight of her.<br />
"Mosssssy, where have you been?"<br />
"Here, Silly", she turns looking over the back and head of the wheelchair's occupant. <br />
"All this time?"<br />
"Yep!", this came with a toss of a red curl and a roll of her eyes. <br />
"But I've needed you," I cried indignantly as I thought of just a few of "those moments". <br />
Suddenly, I heard another different tiny voice but familiar. Turning I find Thomas, Mossy's brother on the back of a wheelchair whispering into a gentleman's ear. Although unable to discern his words, the man clearly understood for he grinned and nodded, snapping his fingers. Spinning slowly in a circle I counted at least half a dozen gnomes clearly engaged with residents in various modes. One brushed beautiful snowy hair as she hummed, Beautiful Dreamer to the delight of her wheelchair resident. Another seemed to be massaging arthritic fingers. Two were stationed front & back of one wheelchair as they rocked gently the beautiful tiny gray-haired resident who was enjoying a brief catnap. This was especially fun to watch as it took the wee ones a running start to move the wheelchair even a few inches.<br />
As I came about full circle Mossy looked me straight in the eye with both hands on her hips.<br />
"Who needed me?"<br />
<br />
Mossy helped the frozen that afternoon thaw a bit. I don't know, maybe it's not so much a frozen state as an uneducated and shocked one to that world that exist everyday. As usual, though, Mossy challenges me to ALWAYS look for what is not so readily seen.....to see the unseen.......be it gnomes or needs.........Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-38392027649805454152011-06-24T16:03:00.000-07:002011-06-24T16:11:55.153-07:00SERIOUSLY?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzl8NoE-I43T84YZwrX1Y6s92kPa-qJ2IhZAzGFcII4k_EkzIUjLOJK2L8OzNclTER-fizofv1f5tX1IF85DttzyXjHnmrneV7uajKt8l-rMtzO6qNfFe-V4YvD2yK0gcPIMSLRNzrWrgh/s1600/new4+222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzl8NoE-I43T84YZwrX1Y6s92kPa-qJ2IhZAzGFcII4k_EkzIUjLOJK2L8OzNclTER-fizofv1f5tX1IF85DttzyXjHnmrneV7uajKt8l-rMtzO6qNfFe-V4YvD2yK0gcPIMSLRNzrWrgh/s320/new4+222.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3eJr1g-pbI0rGcJCUaDvbc_mo5k_h1LUrfjA2i0PaphKpsp_-d6ck_Yek3pdy5A8tTq7ZlBdJ3qRt-hO0Ly8Pq-vJPP70emze0TFjzN6-Q-mUb3fsqSQ7cH_1dd7tplWxCZpiB6iF-h6K/s1600/new4+225.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><em><img border="0" height="239" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3eJr1g-pbI0rGcJCUaDvbc_mo5k_h1LUrfjA2i0PaphKpsp_-d6ck_Yek3pdy5A8tTq7ZlBdJ3qRt-hO0Ly8Pq-vJPP70emze0TFjzN6-Q-mUb3fsqSQ7cH_1dd7tplWxCZpiB6iF-h6K/s320/new4+225.JPG" width="320" /></em></a><em>"Mornin",</em> she exclaimed as she popped her head out of the glass bubble terrarium. With a door barely unlocked and stepping into a half-lit shop, to hear anything at all much less a squeaky voice from above was rather disconcerting. <br />
<em>"Gracious,</em> <em>Mossy!</em> <em>You are the early bird (or rather gnome)</em> <em>this morn,"</em> I can't help but answer<em>. " Yup,"</em> she grins kicking one leg out of the opening and swinging her perch dangerously close to the nearby cooler. Nestled in the sand, shells and airplants, Mossy's pose speaks of relaxing summertime- hammock moments; however, one look at her expression and ya know this just ain't so! "Uh Oh!", was my next thought and no sooner had I <em>thunk</em> it then scrambling out and up the rope she began a routine. It was complete with her singing the musical accompaniment and worthy of a Ringling Brothers Circus any day. Wrapping one ballet-slippered foot above her in the rope, she hung upside down twisting and posing and throwing kisses to every corner of the shop. Seriously? Funny, the appearance of Mossy in my life has evidently created that particular expression as a common one for me-so pointed out by Don at breakfast. Oh, why not, I dropped my keys and with clapping began to egg the little acrobat on. Pulling herself upright she inched further up the rope, swinging back and forth, higher and higher. Just when I thought the terrarium was about to crash into the cooler, Mossy let go. Sailing through the air straight above my head she executes a perfect head-over-heels flip. Was that Spongebob underwear briefly flashed? Turning my head, I see her land square in the middle of a King Protea. Freezing, she leans forward as if to hear better. "Did you hear it?" I can only shake my head in answer. "Teensy just trumpeted", she declares. "Who is Teensy?" I ask, leaning forward as if to hear, too. "<em>The elephant, Silly, didn't you see her yesterday in the large cooler?"</em> Well, talk about overlooking the elephant in a room! Now it was the cooler! At this, I rush to the cooler but no elephant I see. <em>"Uh Oh!",</em> this time it was Mossy's turn to utter this one. Like a Tasmanian Devil she tore out the back door. I hurried after to see, but not a Mossy or a Teensy graced the parking lot. <em>"Well, I never",</em> I spoke out loud. <em>"Where</em> <em>on earth do you start after that scene?"</em> But begin I must, so that I did: lights on, computers up, freshen front cooler, make a lovely or two, sweep large cooler.... </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">It was here I muttered again, <em>"Well, I never!"</em> For now I saw what I had previously missed scattered amongst the petals. Shells - not SEASHELLS! They were EVERYWHERE empty, peanut shells......SERIOUSLY?</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-62923982919917280072011-05-22T17:01:00.000-07:002011-05-22T17:01:39.506-07:00"psst....psssst....,"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEL08UiOTC1roVBDmQ0QcusM1m9mr6M22ca9ab_CUjU-0ySv0WCt47nlovvHcO9n_T58kBT4Fzp2w-EDm6mbmnaWmynArRAkwmkkYXZtRdr5Ab56nfdAh7aTCSwbRcs5Ia-8nOmM2HiWF2/s1600/IMG_1711.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEL08UiOTC1roVBDmQ0QcusM1m9mr6M22ca9ab_CUjU-0ySv0WCt47nlovvHcO9n_T58kBT4Fzp2w-EDm6mbmnaWmynArRAkwmkkYXZtRdr5Ab56nfdAh7aTCSwbRcs5Ia-8nOmM2HiWF2/s320/IMG_1711.JPG" width="227" /></a></div>Mossy whispered in my ear. Standing on my shoulder she motioned to the backseat. Good golly Miss Molly or Miss Kylee one should say. Sunlight sparkled on her nose and her tongue as she licked DQ's bounty of a vanilla soft cone. "Summer's here!" Mossy chanted as she jumped up & down. With delight in a flash I knew just what she meant. I could smell it. I could feel it: a newly mowed lawn, blackberry cobbler, children's laughter as they walked through the woods, fresh mint floating in a glass of tea, fireflies dancing on a warm evening's breeze... The magic of summer had just begun. Yes, maybe a few more days of school must linger. "But not for long," Mossy whispered from the dash. To be a gnome is not enough. The little minx must now be a mind reader, too! <br />
<br />
I stretched and I yawned in the warm sunlight streaming in, as a toe tapping Mossy step-ball chained across the dash....<br />
<br />
"Summer's here, Summer's here, hallelujah, Summer's here!" <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGee4qkBfOf9tY6l0BQ_kMU8I082b5IvSQWzDRSBAnp_zLCmKwqG_j3nf8k5ItxcCsLCAKMyTbmN6rQH6xMZjLw0D4sfWtAn3PO46NVwYZ11Vt7pxNjBlMTqtEV7KcK494mqQ6KzwcUGW4/s1600/IMG_1705.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGee4qkBfOf9tY6l0BQ_kMU8I082b5IvSQWzDRSBAnp_zLCmKwqG_j3nf8k5ItxcCsLCAKMyTbmN6rQH6xMZjLw0D4sfWtAn3PO46NVwYZ11Vt7pxNjBlMTqtEV7KcK494mqQ6KzwcUGW4/s320/IMG_1705.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-82491874859577074312011-04-26T22:08:00.000-07:002011-04-26T22:11:43.144-07:00sugar cookies, mOssy and cherry pie?????<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmDWWamIXVfqCydUp8isdkyJ31Dgf76P393cNH3SHddPG34LBjdQPPVmo4SGwdmEQvbzLhRP4jY8mPQS0EbV-D2JbhM8vdpWCOd2pP2W4uraVl3DHGRI8svuHLCw4dHRhhdyGcjOcjRWOS/s1600/149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmDWWamIXVfqCydUp8isdkyJ31Dgf76P393cNH3SHddPG34LBjdQPPVmo4SGwdmEQvbzLhRP4jY8mPQS0EbV-D2JbhM8vdpWCOd2pP2W4uraVl3DHGRI8svuHLCw4dHRhhdyGcjOcjRWOS/s320/149.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>I rolled the cookies, sprinkled abit more sweetness to each and popped them in the oven. Returning to an earlier batch, I scooped them unto a pedestal cake plate as Adele finished her last <em>Rumor Has It.</em> Adele and then cookie plates are a new and old obsession. Put anything on a pedestal and BAM some <em>gotta have, gotta need, gotta buy</em> turns on like a flashing neon sign in my <em>soul</em>. Okay, I realize this is abit dramatic, but seriously, what doesn't look better with a little elevation? And speaking of <em>soul. </em>Adele's every lyric speaks of hers. Mossy informed me that NOBODY can sing like Adele. "Hmmmmmm," was my reply which brought on one of her eyebrows shooting straight up and under her hat. As I repeated the rhythm of cookie baking, I inquired of Mossy's activities. "Cheerio" was her very exuberant reply and then "poof" she went. Funny, her cheerio sounded more like cherrio. Mossy's latest <em>royal</em> obsession is - guess....... I could give you 3, but you would not require it. I find every bit of Kate & Prince Williams' interviews on my menu list of recordings. I must admit this gnome thing can be very disconcerting at times. There is a surprise around every corner, though most are delightful. Like the wee tiny cherry pie, I found amongst my cookies. "Wow, MOssy, your cherry pie is a masterpiece," I exclaimed. "Thank you," she squeaked reappearing, as she began to rattle on about Friday and 4 o'clock and then something about Bebe's favorite dessert. "What?" I wanted to know. "Are you planning a Royal Wedding Party?" Tis then moSsy began to strut her stuff. She sidled to one side holding up the tip of her skirt. She sidled to the other side switching sides of her skirt edge. With each move she made she cut her eyes over that shoulder winking exaggeratedly along the way. Suddenly with a rather dramatic pause she sings "RUMOR HAS IT!" Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-3201778639082661072011-03-28T12:42:00.000-07:002011-03-28T14:55:44.623-07:00whata whata difference.....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJH5dxXgPBK5AoxguAKvH3cipJHHE9YL6GJa8xC0ebmJyNDm4zpOQXct3Z3MfHG0S69ByJz3ONvRoLG54r_f0MY3kh28R5B29QWYlHAzSU8wJ0_yg6o1V_WievSLhyHhI8dbSQWI7W4sg/s1600/558.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJH5dxXgPBK5AoxguAKvH3cipJHHE9YL6GJa8xC0ebmJyNDm4zpOQXct3Z3MfHG0S69ByJz3ONvRoLG54r_f0MY3kh28R5B29QWYlHAzSU8wJ0_yg6o1V_WievSLhyHhI8dbSQWI7W4sg/s400/558.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kXTA6VQUC0fa1p_CcLFW30s4hEWU5dRXKcwkw8ltK6xHVqFg-DcVUhgmxYJJAY_vzYZI4ZoUbwQQTYYbL0XgZae9rKdea_gdA3oXqAmz9jlDlFee3QZy0VdJlJd3jbhyphenhyphenJ4-HU3SKefnU/s1600/553.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" r6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_kXTA6VQUC0fa1p_CcLFW30s4hEWU5dRXKcwkw8ltK6xHVqFg-DcVUhgmxYJJAY_vzYZI4ZoUbwQQTYYbL0XgZae9rKdea_gdA3oXqAmz9jlDlFee3QZy0VdJlJd3jbhyphenhyphenJ4-HU3SKefnU/s320/553.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>in retrospect a few days can make. Now, granted, it didn't seem like a few days when scraping my windshield or wrapping that scarf once again or wiping watery eyes from frigid air. Retrospect, in my experience is a lot better on this side than the other. In fact, the old adage, <em>the grass is greener on the other side, </em>does not apply here. Regardless, Spring is glorious in Pandora!!!!! This morning's coffee found Mossy swinging from a sign nestled amidst the azaleas. <em>"Whats a Peeler?"</em> she squeaked as she hung monkey style by one arm. "It's my mom's maiden name, my grandparent's names, JT and Sylva." Glancing again, for her reaction the space was empty. "Mossy?" I muttered as I settled down to sip and see the antics of Pandora. We've an entire bevy of new birds this year of which Don & I keep wondering what they are without seeking any clarification of the question. It's actually becoming another one of those routines we excel at. "Look," I'll say, "there is one of those birds." "Yes," he replies "I wonder what it is." Upon reflection, I must admit, WE are the same birds of a feather. Tis comfort in routine. What were the routines of my grandparents? As I child, did I ever notice? Tis comfort in the sameness (don't think this is a word) of the one you love. Pondering such deep thoughts, I failed to see until the Blue Jay landed in front of me who was riding on his back. Mossy jumped quickly down, blew him a kiss and began to clog. Okay, you think I'm kidding, right? Nope. CLOG! She was even wearing tiny golden wooden clogs. She was also sporting a red velvet vest upon which was pinned a small Johnny-Jump-up bloom. I sat quickly up and began to clap as her cavorting (sorry, clogging) circled the pond. "I declare," I shouted, catching her infectious mood. "I'll join you, too!." Twas then that "<strong><em>routine"</em> </strong>flew off with that Blue Jay. Now, all I'm going to say here, is you missed quite the sight, this bright and beautiful morn, when a small tiny gnome and a grandmother of 8 clogged merrily amidst the blooms! Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-84852361104974829112011-01-11T09:47:00.000-08:002011-01-12T13:20:04.206-08:00"Run, Mossy, run.................."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzOrs_VnxGgjW_4yZERpwu4LPaKFS5e49E7UJ0HBDNNXvx1XVWgYL0IkoY0BA54RNbs7Tkf7ZETws1B-4N-45v1kviSl1UJ1ZS6yNhIH2BQEnmBzDZLi-865OkycMuhUsfdc61CboNcPW/s1600/IMG_1173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzOrs_VnxGgjW_4yZERpwu4LPaKFS5e49E7UJ0HBDNNXvx1XVWgYL0IkoY0BA54RNbs7Tkf7ZETws1B-4N-45v1kviSl1UJ1ZS6yNhIH2BQEnmBzDZLi-865OkycMuhUsfdc61CboNcPW/s320/IMG_1173.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>I thought of Bubba Gump as I yelled these words to Mossy! <br />
<br />
We've a squirrel that has recently come-a-visiting to our Pandora (backyard). He must be a teen for he runs everywhere he goes with an attitude. His first endeavor was to unbaffle the squirrel baffle, thereby emptying the bird feeder with great haste. From this perch, he jumps to the tray of colorful wool tidbits and sunflower seeds. They all scatter in the collision like confetti at a party. Not to be thwarted by this mischievous somewhat naughty one that I've named Eddie Haskell ( for those who remember Leave It To Beaver). Don enters the picture, first with a bb gun. Now here I would admit to being upset if he could EVER hit anything. Then I see Don in a full wrestle with the baffle. Ahhhhh, the activities of a January day....... BUT, low and behold the baffle begins to baffle. Eddie runs up the pole and bumps his head on the baffle. He does it again. He jumps down and runs the perimeter of the pond. He runs it again. He runs up another pole of a feeder which has a no-squirrel lever for feeding. Now more wiser and older squirrels jump to the top of this feeder: spread eagle, hang down the front, open the lever and proceed to eat hanging somewhat upside down. Eddie is not so wise in his endeavor. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBigRTGw7ttZXyI97Iu8g1d2pRlcXP1KQoFof7O8W54u1fPzjxT8mhS3ha1mTKmKbBDbZE5D3mMS0OS6wTxM0IBSTzODcfoSM_WbFtTkrWvpmykw2Jtl5qACnuqe631RVR6KwaQgWtz00W/s1600/IMG_1190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="274" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBigRTGw7ttZXyI97Iu8g1d2pRlcXP1KQoFof7O8W54u1fPzjxT8mhS3ha1mTKmKbBDbZE5D3mMS0OS6wTxM0IBSTzODcfoSM_WbFtTkrWvpmykw2Jtl5qACnuqe631RVR6KwaQgWtz00W/s320/IMG_1190.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Suddenly coming into view skidding to a halt under this feeder is Mossy. She is holding up a pecan and appears to be taunting our teenager. Boom, the race is on. Eddie lands close, but not close enough as Mossy's laughter of bells rings loud and clear in the cold crisp air. Having received a couple inches of snow simply adds to the fun as Mossy led Eddie on a merry, sliding chase. Mossy's innate ability to stay just out of reach proves to be Eddie's undoing. Obviously tiring he fails to remain as observant as he perhaps should. So, when Mossy hops to the stone bridge and then to the side, Eddie follows only to go straight into the stream. His momentum takes him the few feet down til he finished his dip with a rather large not-so-pretty cannonballish splash. At this point, Mossy and I are rolling!!!! He bobs to the surface and then quickly out, face to face with the still-in-place snowman of Christmas' decor. Now call me nuts (hoho like who wouldn't?) I believe that snowman winked and chuckled joining in on the escapades of Eddie. Warmed we all were (well, except for maybe Eddie) by the laughter and fun of the antics of one snowy, winter afternoon.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-30737733610533022692010-12-29T16:09:00.000-08:002010-12-29T16:09:18.529-08:00Shiver me timbers....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYT52L4CoHpBgRyTshdEqI3j6FkUN7BxredQ6ZKxX0RvkrMizvywpfoxda8X4PStvhk8DDJ7hUE5P-RY2bGl5sZHmxAWJCuMYOfSXFTs_1GzqfZxh5Xu2YPmz2zD-cURENYq_qLyv6lix/s1600/JacksonHole2+023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtYT52L4CoHpBgRyTshdEqI3j6FkUN7BxredQ6ZKxX0RvkrMizvywpfoxda8X4PStvhk8DDJ7hUE5P-RY2bGl5sZHmxAWJCuMYOfSXFTs_1GzqfZxh5Xu2YPmz2zD-cURENYq_qLyv6lix/s320/JacksonHole2+023.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>IT'S COLD! This was my comment to Mossy as we walked this afternoon. "Weenie" was her reply. Mossy told of a cold at Yellowstone that froze her eyelids to her cheeks while she slept. "Why, oh why would you stay so long in such a climate?" I asked. She told me it was to attend the fairies festival. Mossy described a gathering of fairies that only a wild untamed expanse such as Yellowstone could hold. Fairies from Ireland, Canada, why even Hawaii! I spit out my coffee on that one. Picture it: small fairy, grass skirt, lei, and a buffalo snorting close by. "Why at one point," she pointed out. "You could not even find a vacant spot at Moose Falls to sit down." I know better than to ask, but my mouth opens anyway. "A spot to sit?" "Yes, the canoes start up Crawfish Creek and we see who survives the Falls." "See," I think, "I should have kept my mouth shut." Now I'm picturing tiny canoes with a Mossy relative sitting pointed hat and all holding on for dear life, airborne. "Survive?" I sort of squeaked out. Mossy was delighted with my reaction and begins to pantomime a rather dramatic crash and then subsequent drowning. One look at my face and she let out a hoot. "Don't you know that I'm a pulling your leg? Wee gnomes (as you like to call us) swim like fish. In fact, one of our favorite past times is to swim upstream with salmon. You know, a bit of exercise and to keep them company. Them bears are kinda fun to mess with along the way. They think they're going to catch dinner swiping under the current and instead up we pops and spits water up their noses! Of course, ya better be ready to REALLY swim after that move." Mossy is now tight-rope walking the edge of the kitchen cabinets and from the corner of my eye Be'Be' flits in and out of the tree. "Mossy, will Be'Be' ever leave the Christmas Tree?" "Not til you take it down" she quipped quickly back. Now as a rule I can't think of any month of the year that needs twinkle lights like January. Yes, this means that I don't take down the Christmas tree until......ahhhhh.....Valentines? Or is it March winds that start the process? Hmmmm, I think as I pour another cup of coffee......I surely would adore to see that tiny fairy for more than 3 seconds at a time. But take the tree down early ......................................NEVER!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-31786372011006169322010-12-12T21:11:00.000-08:002010-12-12T21:11:11.652-08:00a fairy in my tree.......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9OwlbrOvb-KkuwfuHgIDETfED0mcjFqB-05fFm8yU1FhIDuoTBxo82YFelhDAzKzfnnRhjde76dgL6E8oYFb5Ge4AFwhf8z61_xVfKhA3IxioFdzTPSFOJ3W4JcdP7aF-dAKuAT0g1uw/s1600/Christmas+tree+2010+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU9OwlbrOvb-KkuwfuHgIDETfED0mcjFqB-05fFm8yU1FhIDuoTBxo82YFelhDAzKzfnnRhjde76dgL6E8oYFb5Ge4AFwhf8z61_xVfKhA3IxioFdzTPSFOJ3W4JcdP7aF-dAKuAT0g1uw/s320/Christmas+tree+2010+003.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Betcha don't have one of those!!!!! Actually, can't believe I do. No sooner had I walked in the front door, wings whirled and a swoosh could be heard. Be'Be' flew straight from my head to the tree, promptly disappearing within it's branches. It was only a tiny bit bigger than a firefly and once again I wondered. "Did I really see that?" Unequivocally, the answer is YES! Seriously, who makes this stuff up? "MosSY", I stamped my foot for effect. Hmmmm, there was none produced. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I sat down to watch and wonder. Wonder. Tis the season for such. How many times have I sat with all but the Christmas tree lights on and watched it in awe? December finds me often beginning a night's sleep in just such a fashion. I squint, my eyes blurring together the ornaments and lights. I strain, my eyes searching to see each tiny detail of the years of collections. I have crooked little beaded candy canes, photos of children's faces tucked into a myriad of handmade frames, even a little first grade rendition of the manger scene drawn on fabric, framed in a hoop. Handmade creations from my children and grandchildren. No matter it's current condition, they are on the tree. Christmas and memories. They can fill you with warmth. They can fill you with an almost unbearable yearning. There are voices and laughter that can no longer be heard but in the corridors of your mind. They float in your memories sometimes almost seeming to tease as you reach for more...... Just as I started down this bittersweet path, she flew out from behind a Big Bird ornament and back in behind the sequined felt pink elephant. It was then that I noticed her wings are like baby ferns-fiddle heads as some are called. However, no fiddle head had I beheld (until now) produced an almost phosphorous glow of sprinkles. Be'Be' coo-chirps. You want to say it's an infant's coo, but then it seems so similar to a Black Cap Chickadee's chirp. It's delightful regardless. An ornament on a branch slightly sways. There she is again! She seems to hang suspended as she appears to be studying the ornaments. Turning to wink my direction she rose ever higher and once again entered the tree somewhat close to Snoopy & his doghouse. The clock tick tocks. I began to nod as sleep calls my name. Stretching out on the sofa, I wonder......of a tiny chirping fairy........of where Miss Mossy has been.........of the delights of this special season..........of wonder itself......... Oh, may one never lose the pure essence of wonder!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-44615416485576911412010-12-07T19:08:00.000-08:002010-12-07T19:08:48.866-08:00whaT, whAT, wHAT, a, MOOSE????<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpYcFDfhWzqqNeblGQMQJCG1zYNle0UsQb2dUsrcfAA_nyxw3sV0ZAnsI2FLFr7x7Foa0XvtRrAiaav5XVkNxlA2FAtzfznjOSlppmgAOEtLcnJTgAWUXWbvs89JxL4qjYWP3GmN987Yj/s1600/IMG_0888.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" ox="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpYcFDfhWzqqNeblGQMQJCG1zYNle0UsQb2dUsrcfAA_nyxw3sV0ZAnsI2FLFr7x7Foa0XvtRrAiaav5XVkNxlA2FAtzfznjOSlppmgAOEtLcnJTgAWUXWbvs89JxL4qjYWP3GmN987Yj/s320/IMG_0888.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>gLORY BE!!!! This can only mean one thing.....MOSSY'S BACK! This was my thought as I rounded the corner of the house. I needed to check to make sure the Christmas yard blowup of snowmen had fully inflated. There, nose to nose with the snowmen, stood a moose, YES A MOOSE! He was completely mesmerized by the Snowman globe.....had to be.....or was he missing the snow? <br />
<br />
Oh, whatever...... "MOSSY WHERE ARE YOU?" And with the abandon of a child, she lept off the porch and squarely onto my shoulders. Picture one leg on each side of my neck as she managed to create a rats nest of my hair which stood perfectly straight up when she finished. How does one start yelling at a creature one has missed oh so very much? Well, I figured it out and I did. "MOSSY, WHERE IN TARNATION HAVE YOU BEEN? WHAT DID YOU JUST DO TO MY HAIR? YOU SCARED ME TO DEATH WITH YOUR DISAPPEARING ACT AND........ MOSSY, WHAT IS MOVING IN MY HAIR?????????? "Be'Be', is sleeping so stop yelling at me! she demanded. "There is a living thing in my hair?" I was scared to touch it while simultaneously wanting to shave the whole mess off. "Oh, here, let me show you". And with that Mossy's tiny plump hand reached in and rummaged around. "Good griefus, MOssy!" I muttered, while trying to not run for a pair of scissors. "Shhhhhh, your waking her up" Mossy hissed in my ear, but I couldn't have spoken, if I wanted to. Before my nose, held in Mossy's chubby little hand was a creature of pure enchantment. She stretched and she yawned and I was spellbound for sure. Looking much like a Gerber baby except for the wings, she winked at me. She was oh so very tiny from her perfect little fingers to her tiny perfect toes. Her wings began to whirl much like a hummingbirds and seemingly began scattering a fine sprinkle of glow-in-the-dark-dust around her in a halo. Rising from MOssy's hand she settled back onto the top of my head and briefly I thought I heard the tiniest of sighs. Sarcastically, I asked if Mossy planned on staying around for abit. Can you please, explain why we so often lash out when all we would rather do is hug someone (or gnome) until they begged for mercy? Poof. Aaahhh, I'd done it again, but I knew she would be hanging around regardless of "poofing". Because, as you see, even now I could hear slight snores coming from the Be'Be' in my hair!!!!!!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-43750189738010197562010-11-17T20:01:00.000-08:002010-12-08T07:36:38.711-08:00Mossy ????<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Silence. I have NOT found it to be very golden. November 2nd was the last time I saw Mossy as she rode away with a herd of buffalo. Thinking she would "appear" as she so often has, I didn't think much of the silence until it stretched on and on and on........... Obviously, the return from Yellowstone was without one small gnome. Was this it? Mossy appeared one day around three years ago. Would she disappear as unexpectantly as she had appeared? These questions as well as a thousand others kept me company in the silence of the shop, in the silence of the house, in the silence of the gently falling leaves..... </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEQGwtXRkOE0bN773AHco4OBEtNgOmRDZ_eFq266zgNPNVSzLeGPxjicQhllZOfdxFJKBEz6zJbIGLlNAk1emyO1TVeww066MzxkEFnDd3TMUduWqwYQ360aeUz4ix9DB5Puz6S9yprOx/s1600/100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEQGwtXRkOE0bN773AHco4OBEtNgOmRDZ_eFq266zgNPNVSzLeGPxjicQhllZOfdxFJKBEz6zJbIGLlNAk1emyO1TVeww066MzxkEFnDd3TMUduWqwYQ360aeUz4ix9DB5Puz6S9yprOx/s320/100.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I found myself going back to the beginning....... Wee Thomas jumping from one pumpkin after another, as if they were tiny trampolines. I was digging through a vast supply of dried safflower, pods, hydrangeas, etc...... Alone, or so I thought. Admittedly, my eyes were somewhat glazed over from several hours of creating lovelies when I heard the tinkle of a bell. Drawn to the sound I watched with fascination as a small boy sprang from first a Fairytale pumpkin to a Cinderella, to a Wee-Be-Little, and then to a Baby Boo. Don't you just love the names of all the varieties of pumpkins? No sooner would I open my mouth to speak, he would disappear, only to reappear elsewhere. The first afternoon of this "gnome-spotting" continued in this manner. If I drew nearer to the Lil Pumpkemons, no appearances. If I returned to my creating, bells and sightings. Truly, I regretted the end of this day!!!! I left whispering of my return. Surely, I would see him again!! Memory fails on the exact amount of time, but I do know that Thomas entertained me for sometime before he ever spoke. Customers would be browsing and suddenly he would appear hanging from their purse or sitting on their shoulder. His favorite (or so it appeared) would be to ride on the pumpkin arrangements straight to the checkout counter. How this was done without detection, I have no clue but the pure entertainment value was priceless! Many a moment, I would duck behind a counter stifling my giggles. Seriously, customers are not quite sure how to take unexplicable sudden outburst of laughter. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3dLyqwqn-WJOGw8IalZB8zywOm8UKHwx-Oky6w2ZatzjpHvEkLEfPDcLFVYzAIrzQrqGNkpqUKsaSYy9G_VLpjI0tirHimB_Z7IRZWtezQ3yTLwhhZ2VSW590oR9aMJ9mLtKE0tTl3by/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" px="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv3dLyqwqn-WJOGw8IalZB8zywOm8UKHwx-Oky6w2ZatzjpHvEkLEfPDcLFVYzAIrzQrqGNkpqUKsaSYy9G_VLpjI0tirHimB_Z7IRZWtezQ3yTLwhhZ2VSW590oR9aMJ9mLtKE0tTl3by/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /></a>You left it on." These were his first whispered words to me. He pointed to the glue gun as he spoke them and POOF. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Oh POOF on me!!!!! Memory lane has just created a rather "well done" pumpkin loaf! I shake off the memories as reality needs a few burned edges pinched away. "Mossy?" I question outloud. Mossy, would most definitely have a comment or two for my latest culinary feat. Silence.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I miss my friend.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-8271941697116131732010-11-02T19:02:00.000-07:002010-11-02T19:02:41.588-07:00where the buffalo roam........<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOe4g6PC4lslW2X3OVT5ONMuu_E4Lpvs0uucykPECGcG0neadHbFEqW4t6aFccr3Hc8ete7qvhPS9BGyA3kz3Tut7ZkV61g3x_3NLm2BsSbaXVczXpkQQU6JA4eVIlI7hyCdUuJ5PZNWTx/s1600/jAcKsOn+HoLe+141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOe4g6PC4lslW2X3OVT5ONMuu_E4Lpvs0uucykPECGcG0neadHbFEqW4t6aFccr3Hc8ete7qvhPS9BGyA3kz3Tut7ZkV61g3x_3NLm2BsSbaXVczXpkQQU6JA4eVIlI7hyCdUuJ5PZNWTx/s320/jAcKsOn+HoLe+141.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>in Yellowstone park, to a complete stop we came. A huGe herd of HuGe buffalo stood casually on the road. This was after all, their territory, their park, so move over vehicles! This is not an everyday occurrence, however for this East Texan. So, grabbing a camera and rolling down my window, I snapped this pic of one looking straight at me. "Crooked Horn." Mossy informed me, was his name. Mossy came into view riding one of the smaller of the herd.<br />
<br />
Please explain, if you can why any of this would surprise me. I found myself asking the obvious, "Mossy, what are you doing?" She flipped a red curl back and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Wouldn't you ride a buffalo, if you could?" she retorted. Well, she had me there. Seriously, wouldn't you? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWXFzt8mmNeYoTah0Dh6iWxuO-IEhLPDcRtUihe9V87RDPixyDYZ68k3icxj7nGq8sWYKbeSOQU2KlKZt_Jy0KEByEzSmAPk2dYI5fNezI3Q-AHx9prOegZhjy4atuY879NPY0M2JD1l4l/s1600/jAcKsOn+HoLe+138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWXFzt8mmNeYoTah0Dh6iWxuO-IEhLPDcRtUihe9V87RDPixyDYZ68k3icxj7nGq8sWYKbeSOQU2KlKZt_Jy0KEByEzSmAPk2dYI5fNezI3Q-AHx9prOegZhjy4atuY879NPY0M2JD1l4l/s320/jAcKsOn+HoLe+138.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Who, indeed, wouldn't want with the abandon of our Native American ancestors to run with a herd of buffalo? To know the wildness of an untamed land and to see a vista of which few had viewed? Yellowstone gives one a glimpse of that possibility. It fires the imagination in it's rugged beauty. One can easily picture: crouched with bow-pulled taut, a moccasin's-clad fellow at the edge of the treeline. Before him an elk and his cow. With nostrils flaring the elk starts as he catches the scent of danger. The arrow flies, but in a rare occurrence misses its mark. The two run free as does their hunter. Free, freedom from so much of what fills our ever-waking moments. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Slowly, the buffalo move around our car, seeming to pretty much ignore it and it's occupants. And for a while I moved on with them. In my mind, Crooked Horn and I rode alongside Mossy and her friend. We headed down the rolling hill listening to the occasional snort and rumble from the herd. A crystal clear stream beckoned ahead as it dipped and bubbled over rock. As Old Faithful could be seen in the distance I wondered if they sought it's warmth in proximity for a night's rest. With a toss of his head the largest bull broke into a trot as we grew closer to the stream. Funny, he didn't drink but stood proudly with his head held high as most of the herd did. Why, was that a stagecoach splashing through a shallow area of the stream? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The buffalo is a symbol of a vanished past, a link to a frontier heritage. However, no romantic notion of such should ever cloud one's view of an animal that still remains wild. Buffalo at Yellowstone number close to 4000 in the park and can weigh over 2000 tons. They still can and do inflict injury on any observer who fails to maintain their distance. So despite my daydream, as Crooked Horn steps toward the car, I lean back and quickly put up my window. The herd passes on. But despite, a quick warning from me Mossy continues her journey with them. Maybe Mossy can tell me where they will rest for the night............... Now was that a parasol I saw in the window of that stagecoach?</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-44200583139979329522010-10-28T10:21:00.000-07:002010-11-02T16:02:29.961-07:00Mossy's Moose!!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_CkRiYkuXeMKTWgw6m523Btj5DwAuVOtW3s6LsZDK7IwEeFq2CHEQONq4eSDlTHqhRko-uElfjm0itIvbhKI6LemiFsv445m-s-ntBV-zx8wQbAkgGTWwukseFVNdxPUlr4377f-kop-/s1600/jAcKsOn+HoLe+073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" nx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY_CkRiYkuXeMKTWgw6m523Btj5DwAuVOtW3s6LsZDK7IwEeFq2CHEQONq4eSDlTHqhRko-uElfjm0itIvbhKI6LemiFsv445m-s-ntBV-zx8wQbAkgGTWwukseFVNdxPUlr4377f-kop-/s320/jAcKsOn+HoLe+073.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>Clippity-clop, clippity-clop. What an odd noise to hear growing louder by the moment in a hotel hallway. You know the saying....<em>curiousity killed the cat...... </em>But, admittedly, I prefer the ending of.....<em>satisfaction brought him back! </em>So with this in mind, I slowly opened the door, peeking out....<br />
<br />
GOOD GOLLY MISS MOLLY (or Mossy, in this case)! Mossy had made it to Wyoming! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The adorable moose moved steadily along as Mossy pirouetted upon his back! Transfixed, I watched as she dropped to each side. "Just like Wild Bill!" she cried. Together they rounded the corner with a snort from the moose and a YeeHaw from Mossy. Wasn't that the moose stationed down in the lobby? THE BRONZED STATUE? Where had the little imp been for 2 days? More importantly, could I manage to get that little moose back to Texas? Do you think the resort would notice anything missing? <br />
<br />
Realizing that I was standing in the hall alone, with yes, my mouth hanging open yet again. I jumped back through my doorway and yelled after the two performers. "Have a grand day, Mossy! You betcha!" she yelled back. "Me and this Mangy Moose are heading to Yellowstone!" <br />
<br />
Hmmm.....Yellowstone may never be the same after this particular twosome. I couldn't help wondering if I should warn a Park Ranger or two!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-75365797724891457232010-10-21T00:03:00.000-07:002010-10-21T00:32:03.097-07:00Walk a caterpillar!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFNc40IKrPfg5fioUrc9uVpGpVTLCWYaYlJQkaV6TfBsmU4KSUUrDzwrba7tkGcZoQIP2ym2ip98yrBaojYznq4hglgfCgYkHTZmR2JAoF13fuwoo1FkXSVpIhHCCsBSWqWtMnFOBKgX9x/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFNc40IKrPfg5fioUrc9uVpGpVTLCWYaYlJQkaV6TfBsmU4KSUUrDzwrba7tkGcZoQIP2ym2ip98yrBaojYznq4hglgfCgYkHTZmR2JAoF13fuwoo1FkXSVpIhHCCsBSWqWtMnFOBKgX9x/s320/040.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Glancing out the window, what should I see? Mossy leading the very green creature pictured above with a leash. Granted, the going was a wee bit slow, but both seemed to be very content and in full conversation. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> I love the way Mossy knows how to embrace a moment.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Seriously, she seems to grab hold of it with both tiny hands and absorb every minuscule of it. Now please don't misunderstand. I do NOT mean that she is a whirling dervish of productivity, or a multi-tasker extraordinaire or even a mountain moving momma (anthill in her case).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She simply knows (perhaps instinctively) how to embrace the simple things of life. I heard something today and was struck by the truth of it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><strong> Dear Diary, I notice we put more and more emphasis on our homes and spend less and less time in them. I just came back from a neighborhood full of lovely houses in the middle of the day and they were all empty. They were like vessels to hold the life you want, but have no time to have.</strong></em></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Mossy gets time. She knows how to fill a moment, so most certainly a home. She can rip through it with total abandon or sit still and hear it's rhythm. She knows the sound of the clock in the hall, the whirl of the living room's ceiling fan, the creak of the pantry's door and the faint music of the fountain outside the window.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">When was the last time I "heard" the music of my home and filled the vessel to the rim? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I WANT TO WALK A CATERPILLAR!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Now having said that, I look out to find Mossy and the wee green creature on the rim of the fountain! The two are waltzing! Yes, just picture the commercial of the father with his daughter's feet on top of his and you can get the gist of the two outside my window. Bells tinkled. Enchanted,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I watched and wished for myself and you too, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">a vessel not only filled to the brim,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> but running oVer with whimsy today!!!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">excerpt from Deanne Fitzpatrick's Diary</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-260890338212416839.post-56471734012762710422010-10-16T04:10:00.000-07:002010-10-16T04:13:07.591-07:00DRUM ROLL PLEASE..............<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2umDsQ5V_Kb1X-HSzBFvQEnwsdrdgEGq3Kv_HSeKMZ01Oo4ryNYQZ8_Ot_mxVaRX_RfhYACenB8sa-wYa3EQ83A3LL86mVMvID14nSctSCtoaoCV67ran_e37rVTsKY7zBnSS9nrf-HL/s1600/087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2umDsQ5V_Kb1X-HSzBFvQEnwsdrdgEGq3Kv_HSeKMZ01Oo4ryNYQZ8_Ot_mxVaRX_RfhYACenB8sa-wYa3EQ83A3LL86mVMvID14nSctSCtoaoCV67ran_e37rVTsKY7zBnSS9nrf-HL/s320/087.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">mOSSY's first ever contest has a winner: <u><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;">2dayisgood</span></u><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><u> CONGRATULATIONS!!</u><span style="color: black; font-size: small;"> </span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZ11GW0PfKOB6JFUcbNiJsnGkvE2-ILhrW9C5rcPk0dnL8ENwrhEm-T4sXOZyteHK7UcXZ8c70jleH17KwP6WDUjuVCnwMtwPeuV9DNdz0rjHiki2sWpBGgSJA_Zu54mOW8esIDHpyTCL/s1600/079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZ11GW0PfKOB6JFUcbNiJsnGkvE2-ILhrW9C5rcPk0dnL8ENwrhEm-T4sXOZyteHK7UcXZ8c70jleH17KwP6WDUjuVCnwMtwPeuV9DNdz0rjHiki2sWpBGgSJA_Zu54mOW8esIDHpyTCL/s320/079.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="color: red; font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: black; font-size: small;">When I say drum roll please, I am only stating what I am experiencing! Midnight, yes, midnight cymbals clashed in the computer room/office/craft room/guest bedroom (a room of many hats). Five thirty seven found Mossy marching down the hall with a what appears to be a band uniform on and a large baton! I found evidence of confetti on the coffee table and a wee bottle of champagne was empty on the kitchen counter. Hmmmmmm........ </span></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKFC8fU-7FOd5cAcnewcc-0gKKE4327S3ZpzvgCK_MBTs1N57vuiVKGb77wdu6qYwj4bgRIThCyHmTs4dVBEKAzuqDikRF68EwyoXI2_DyRmCnEzZRN1MPB7rFvk0KN17s0qhOa_liAvM/s1600/083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ex="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwKFC8fU-7FOd5cAcnewcc-0gKKE4327S3ZpzvgCK_MBTs1N57vuiVKGb77wdu6qYwj4bgRIThCyHmTs4dVBEKAzuqDikRF68EwyoXI2_DyRmCnEzZRN1MPB7rFvk0KN17s0qhOa_liAvM/s320/083.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">BUT, the ultimate was not a rooster crowing this morning in Tyler, Texas, but a rather noisy series of firecrackers! I grabbed my phone and got these shots of a display just for Tammie!!!!!! Our total corn count was 1515 and YOU were soooooooo close. Our second place is a wee dark-haired beauty with 1101! Mossy insist on a second place prize as well, for Miss Kylee Grace. We do, however, need a mailing address for our winner. Please email and a goody or two will be winging its way soon!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Now, with a huge day ahead of us and more goodies to make we bid you adieu! OH NO! more fireworks! I crack the window to warn and hear instead of some talk of another contest..........SOON! Who on earth is she talking to?</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">What will it be?</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">KaPow!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Zing!</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Stay tuned...</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">same Mossy (Batman) channel....</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">p.s. you have to be oooold to "get" the Batman reference above! :)</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1