Sunday, March 29, 2015

Nosy Neighbors…...

What are these girls so curious about?

The little ones were being introduced today to
acclimate them being outside. Notice anything
a little….off? One of these new kids is a real Quack!

**Update on the fire ants in my raised garden bed….
After all that heating and pouring water on those mean little critters 
they were STILL there the next day. I mixed some Orange
Oil and Dawn Dish detergent with water then poured that
through. Today when I checked I only saw one 
straggler….so…fingers crossed. There's a new mound
a couple of feet away on the ground that I'm thinking is
their new digs. THAT I can handle.

Now…if the weather will stabilize so I can start planting. 

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Out…Out…Damn Ant!

 yesterday afternoon was spent trying to get my raised beds
 ready for planting. i always leave the dead plants
over winter for the critters. i found two caterpillars and a
praying mantis egg sac that i relocated near the garden
while weeding and turning the soil (the grubs were fed to 
the chickens).   and…..of course…..there
were fire ants. today... for an hour... i boiled huge pots
of water and poured them through the bed…over and 
over ...for an hour. after waiting thirty minutes i took a 
shovel and turned the soil and those darn things just came
 pouring out. soooo…i boiled and poured for thirty more
 minutes turning the soil after each pour. i'll check again
tomorrow to see if i got them to move. (the wire and
bricks are to keep the neighbors cats from using the
beds as their personal potty until i get them planted and

as you can see the grass has grown up in the gravel over
the winter. here in the country we have bermuda grass that
runs up through everything. when i made this garden spot i
got a neighbor to use a bobcat to scrape and remove all the
grass…put down landscape paper…and a good four inches
of gravel but that doesn't stop MY grass. the good thing is
that it's easy to pull out….just time consuming (and back
breaking). i garden organically so i don't use any type of
chemicals for grass or pests. it's hard work but
definitely worth the battle.

now i'm sitting here with a sore back thinking of that first
asparagus quiche and fresh tomato sandwich…yum.

ant and grass skirmish to be continued….

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Oh Yes I Did…...

I did something today that I've wanted to do for years…
Yep…I shaved my head!

I thought I might get that "OMG what have I done?" feeling
I'm loving it!

She be Crazy!

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Monsieur Pepe Le Pew

Look what a fine fella has moved in to the neighborhood.
My daughter added this new rooster to her flock…a Polish.
I call him Pepe Le Pew with all his chasing around
of the girls. They haven't warmed up to him yet and
kind of do the Penelope Pussycat thing when he 
tries to get jiggy with 'em. I feel sure that will change

"What is this? Oh, but of course. This little one wish to commit 
suicide to prove her love for me. What a sweet gesture.
 Nevertheless, I must prevent it."

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Fire Child

On Loving a Daughter Made of Fire

Hold her. Even when your delicate skin begins to char and your lungs swell with smoke, hold her.
If you don’t, she will begin to believe that nobody else will.
When she is aching, hold her closer still, until the steady rhythm of your heart is enough to tame the frenzied beasts in her chest. Drizzle moonshine over the insignia of claws inside her throat where tigresses live, preying upon her words.
As she sobs, reassure her that even though every breath she gasps for is tinged with the taste of blood, it is the blood that will beat love and life into her own someday daughter’s heart.
Don’t be ashamed to tell her how you know this. Reveal your imperfections.
Ask to be understood.
Introduce her to the women who braved the fire to build you: your grandmother lives in your tender hands, your mother in the grace of your smile, your sister in the gentle curve of your frame. We are all, in some small way, immortal. As she becomes you, she too will inherit parts of them. Show her they are watching over her when she sees herself for the first time in the mirror of your armour and realizes she was born a warrior baby.
Remind her that anger is natural. When she comes to you, convulsing inside with the volcano she cannot contain, sift through the ashes with her to reveal generations of forgotten women who have never known escape. Let her see that the fire will not — no, cannot — scorch her. She was born of it, after all.
Teach her that she is not your child, but the offspring of the salty sea breeze and the thunderous waterfall, daughter of jagged purple mountaintops and the weeping willow, the howling of wolves and the flaming sunset.
“We are not mere human beings,” tell her, “we are stars the sky tried to swallow whole; the stars whose shrieks of fury pierced the darkness like bullets: to this day, the sky bleeds light through phantom wounds like you and I.”
Notice the subtler trials in her life: the way concealer and lipstick melt away from her skin, how her legs tremble as she forces them into a delicate criss-cross, the way sleep eludes her for the stars in her eyes refuse to be besieged by the noose of the night. As she spends those sleepless nights praying to the moon to lend her its femininity, remind her that each day the sun sets itself ablaze to illuminate the moon.
Explain to her that fire is alive, spirited, and that it passes on.
She is part of an integral legacy, guided by those who once walked the very same path she treads. Remind her that a day will come where she will light the way for another on this journey, that a day will come where she will help people, not hurt them with her flames.
Stand by her when the people she loves begin to pull away: she is too intense for them, too sentient. Fire is contagious, catching, and nobody wants to go down burning. When she believes that nobody will ever love her, reveal that hearts are made of coal, but hers is warm, blazing, special.
Stand at the doorstep of her heart, afire, whispering, “Honey, I’m home,” hoping that she will, someday, let you in. After all, you are the only one who will understand her. Arm her with wisdom, with love make her beautiful in her own eyes.
For she is.
Just as you were and will always be.
When your heart aches with worry, remember through the flames, you survived. Through the heartache and the fear, you survived. Through the bitterness and the soul searching, you survived.
Through all the odds, you lived, learnt, loved and survived. You survived. You survived. You survived.
And she will too.
Sanjana KotharySanjana Kothary is a 16-year-old lover of language and words. She is a firm believer in magic, karma, the Universe and little miracles (like tea and good books). In her free time, she enjoys writing, painting and playing the piano.

I read this article on Rebelle Society and thought of my grandchild.
My second to the youngest grand daughter is a Fire Child…


my mini me
she carries my Fire
she will survive

Thursday, March 5, 2015

bella grace

bella grace…
one of my favorite magazines
a delicious read

i'm happy to say…
i've been published!

thank you
bella grace

Wednesday, March 4, 2015