Short’n’Sweet

Another week has flown by.  The weekend with old friends is already a week in the past and  the first week of a new adventure is now history!  As my Meghan would say, “Holy cats!!”

The four days up north were wonderful.  Good friends, lots of laughs, fun in the sun and GREAT food.  We do know how to eat very well – as in good for you and just plain good.

I came home and started school.  You bet, after over 30 years I’ve returned to school – college  – online no less.  Last time I went off to college with an electric typewriter and that was high tech.  This time I’m not even physically going anywhere thanks to the Internet.  It’s been a fantastic, fun, challenging and funny week.  I’ve written two essays, taken four quizzes and one exam. Had to e-mail professors with numerous questions, mostly tech-related and then negotiated my way through a Help Desk and “met” all kinds of new classmates from all walks of life.  All without ever seeing a human being and often in the comfort of my jammies 🙂

Moving into Week Two and my first major paper.  I have much of it in my head, but getting it into a Word document, properly formatted, now that will take time out of each of the next several days.   So true to the title, this is short and sweet because at 1:30  a.m. I do need to get some sleep.  Bonne nuit….

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… But Keep the Old …

According to one Web site I found, the title words, which I’m sure many of you know, are supposed to be part of a traditional Girl Scout song.  Other sites described it as a children’s song and I sang it as a child in music class as a round.

The theme being on my mind as I prepare to meet  for four days with old friends, many going back 40 years, one of them over 40 years and one, yes, we were babies together 54 years ago.

This is a group that knows one another well – shared jokes, stories, heartbreak and triumph.  Four days of good company, good food, good friends, a shared history and new memories being made.  Catching up on children, grandchildren, parents, etc, lots of stories will be told and much laughter shared.  As I’ve said repeatedly, history is important.  It tells us from whence we came and tradition is the glue that binds us together

So I’m off – fishing gear ready, a fabulous salsa and chips to contribute, and cannot forget the camera 🙂  I’ll be back with another year of memories to cherish.   Au revoir!!

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… and a Time to Dance Part Two

We talked yesterday about another of the Homestead’s children passing away, my Aunt Henrietta.  The day she died was one of those days you remember things about.  Later in the day I hopped on the lawn mower and rode around and around with memories tumbling through my mind.  Here I am on a lawn tractor thinking about how they cut the grass in years past.  I’ll have to ask my dad or my Auntie Arlene, married to my dad’s brother, Elmer, and a very sharp 90 year-old woman, known to her immediate family (and to me) as a prayer warrior, on her knees for those she loves.

She raised her three children here and made a home for both her mother and her mother-in-law, my Grandma Buelow.    We came here often;  Grandma lived here.  Any given Sunday we’d head to “The Farm.”  Auntie Arlene would cook for a crowd and there often was a crowd as aunts, uncles and cousins came just like my family did. A lot of memories and lots of food for thought and future writings.

The day Aunt Henrietta passed I was mowing the lawn and thinking about things, as you do when life events occur.  Mowing around the big lilac tree – don’t know what else to call it, it’s huge – I pictured my grandmother welcoming another of her children home to heaven and though sad at losing yet another family member, the image of my smiling Grandma made me happy and that, I believe, would have been their time to dance….

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A Time to Mourn … Part One

Note:  I began drafting this post a few days after the passing of another of the Homestead’s children, my aunt/godmother.   I’d like to expand on it now and honor her memory.

A time to mourn and a time to dance;  that’s the complete phrase.  Not an original title by any means, but so appropriate.  Another of the ten children born in this old house, the Buelow homestead, has passed on.  My Aunt Henrietta, named after her mother, my Grandma Buelow, was taken home – fairly unexpectedly.   She was my the youngest of the ten children in my father’s family and I hate to say it, this leaves him as the sole survivor of that family, the last living person who was born in this old house.

Back to my Aunt Henrietta, the unexpected passing of a woman loved by many – her husband, children, grandchildren, nieces,nephews and her last remaining sibling, my father.  Another reminder that there is indeed a time.

Mourning is different depending on the relationship.  I’d never claim my loss as being close to that of her children.  For me it’s more about the passing of time, the passing into history of someone I knew and loved.  I’m a traditionalist – history and tradition are important to me.  History  reminds me where we’ve been and the rich heritage  and hardy stock from  which  I come.  Tradition, as I tell my daughters, is the glue that binds us together.

And we’ll continue these thoughts in Part Two.

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About Those Cows …

Toward the end of the last post I asked if your fences were secure.  Now I’m asking, can they ever be secure, really? My belief system says yes, they can, but not because of what I might do.  And not necessarily in the way I might think.

The farmer who came to corral the cows and secure them again figured it out.  They had made a hole in the fence – that one’s not electric – and pushed it apart enough to make an escape.  Kind of explains the origin of the old English proverb: the grass is always greener on the other side.  Don’t know who the ringleader was, but three followed.  So we had four cows looking for greener pastures, wandering toward the road when a passing neighbor saw them and pounding on my door while hollering, alerted me that “my” cows were heading toward the road.  Two quick calls got the farmer who owns them here and after herding them back into the feedlot (barnyard), a handful of nails and some hammering, he felt they were secure.  A few nails and some wire and 1000-pound animals were “secure.”

Got me thinking about security.  Five nails and some wire fence or a bit of electricity running though a single wire?  What’s your source of security?   Give it some thought and we’ll talk again.

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The Cows Got Out!

I’ve been away from this blog for awhile and it’s time to be back.  Lots has occurred since Easter ’09, some okay and some fabulous!!  Some pretty major Sparkles especially this last week.  And the cows did indeed get out, today, in fact, though that seems like a metaphor for the last few months.

How about you?  Are your fences secure?  Are your cows safely contained with adequate food and water?  Good for you.  I’m working my way back to that place and feeling pretty okay for today.  And I will be back soon, very soon.


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