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Between the Sheets
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weekends 30 June 2014
Around here, there are always chores to be done! We decided on Saturday though, that we’d take the day to go to a farm sale and the chores would wait until Sunday. I’ve talked before about how it feels when you go to these sales and everyone is walking around sifting through the remains of someone’s life. This was no different. This man spent a lot of time working with driving horses and had all manner of harness making equipment as well as horse drawn implements: road grater, manure spreader, plows, drills, wagons and buggies. Antique tractors are always a draw, and he had several stationary engines. I’m fascinated by the engines and imagining what farm they started on and what kinds of work they made easier for the family. We talked to one gentleman looking at the engines who said he was interested in one because he wanted to make ice-cream with it. When we asked him what kind of ice cream maker he wanted to hook up to the engine, he said he didn’t have one yet, but, he had a great ice cream recipe! The people follow the flow of the auctioneer as he makes his way around the path he’s set the treasures up on. We always run into friends at these sales and meet new ones too. It was a day full of blue sky and sunshine, catching up and ice tea.
Sunday found us back to hoeing trees, mowing, getting the bailer ready for oat hay, checking heifers, and measuring and flagging off a section of wheat to bind in a couple of weeks. I think we’ll have an Oliver tractor running our binder this year–story to follow.
slice of life 26 June 2014
What is a slice of life? I’ve been reading about writing “slice of life” pieces. How do you take a life and slice it up? When you do, can you ever put it back together? I guess when you take a slice of cake or pie or lasagna, it lets you see right into the messy innards that make up a delicious bite, or you can feel all the lumps of flour or the bitter cocoa that wasn’t mixed in properly or maybe some raw bits of meat not cooked long enough. A slice of life could be that perfectly browned (my friend Kali calls it the Maillard reaction) wave of merengue atop bright yellow sweet smooth lemon on a flaky crust–but is it real if you discount the precise measuring of eggs, sugar and lemon, or the exact amount of boiling or the way you have to whip the egg whites to achieve those high peaks and then bake it just until golden brown? Sometimes you take it out and it looks like a shiny picture in a gourmet food magazine, but when you cut into it, it is a sloppy puddle of lemon goo on a soggy crust with meringue sails floating on top. Messy, ugly and utterly yummy! Definitely a slice of life.
letters 24 June 2014
The cactus are blooming and I received a letter from a young adult reader of my book, Windows in the Loft, and I loved it:
“I thoroughly enjoyed your novel. The characters were fun and realistic, and the book in itself was incredible–some of the food descriptions made me drool and I was faced with the mortification of my parents staring at me while I drooled. I have some key points I’d like to see in your sequel. I would adore seeing Cade, Fran and Timothy. They were great and relatable supporting characters. I look forward to many more horses and rides and peanut butter and honey sandwiches. Out of everything, I want to see lots of Lucy, because she is such a likable character, so sweet and innocent. I compare Lucy to Rue from Catching Fire, when she died it was horrible. Lucy and Isa’s separation was like Rue’s death in the way that they won’t see each other for a very long time. I also hope Frank gets a good, solid throttling because Lord knows he deserves it. I would also love to see Captain Bance, because he is always so supportive…”
I’m just finishing up the work on my little rural romance novel and then I’ll take up Isa’s story and we’ll all see what happens with all of those characters in Isa’s life.
writing 20 June 2014
Sunset last night curtesy of: God Almighty.
I don’t get it, almost every student I’ve ever had says they hate writing. What’s not to like? I love the thin black ink spilling onto the page. You can create whole worlds with people that do whatever you tell them. You can spin planets on their axis, crush evil with good, make sunsets that inspire awe. And it all comes alive! Well, it seems alive in the moment, ’till the ink runs out. The best part is the blank page; the only limit is your mind and everything is possible: all the setting, all the character, all the plot, and suddenly there’s a hill and she paces as they talk. That’s where the magic happens, because even if you decide it’s cheesy, and no one would believe it–you swipe your pen across those lines, sit quiet a moment, and begin again on a blank line.
And I ask myself, what can poetry do? Poetry can bring vision to a dark world; it can open an idea up for scrutiny; it can bring a blizzard in the middle of summer; it can wrench emotion from the hardest heart; it can bring a laugh, confuse you, anger you, challenge you; it can make understandable that which confounds; it can bring the mightiest steed into being as you ride along with him into the stars!
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The Dating Game 18 June 2014
Do you remember that game show called “The Dating Game?” The way I remember it was that questions were asked and based on the answers, the woman would choose between the three contestants and have a date with the one she chose. It got me thinking about what questions I would ask:
1. Can you be faithful and true? Give an example of when you were faithful and true against all odds. (The English teacher in me cannot ask questions without asking for evidence in support of the answer.)
2. Do you love to have adventure and are you open to new kinds of adventure? Give examples of adventures you’ve had and those you might like to have.
3. Do you love and enjoy the outdoors: plains, mountains, oceans, riding horses and long tractor drives?
4. Will you do your best to help me remember my dreams and reach for them as I will you?
5. Do you promise to teach me all that you know, learn what I have to teach, and cherish who we are together even when I’m annoying or making you mad?
Answers may vary and change with time, but must be sincere.
a strong mind 16 June 2014
I think of these three: strong mind, strong body, and strong personality, that a strong mind is the most important. If you have a strong mind, you can weather almost anything. A strong mind can overcome a less strong body—I’m not sure you can separate a strong mind and a strong personality because it seems to me that they go hand-in-hand and right along with a strong heart. A strong mind equips you to press on when others test your mettle; when they hurl insults or won’t take you seriously, when they feign apathy or challenge what you know is right. A strong mind can keep your wits about you through beatings, starvation, invasions of your body, distance, fear and the unknown. A strong mind finds you not quite whole on the other side, but it brings you back to a kind of whole. What makes a strong mind? I think at some point when you’re little, you need to know that you are loved beyond reason. I also think that if your home is not a safe place, there has to be a safe place that you find—at school or church, somewhere. You need adults to care about you, to help form you, to show you when you’re good and right and true and caring and strong. You build these memories, no matter how deep they’re buried, into your being to make a strong mind. And books, lots of books to open you up to worlds better than yours so you can see possibility. Now, if you can manage to get a horse in there, then you’re all set.
Back in the day, there were so many strong minds that built what we have today. This last weekend, we went to an antique farm show celebrating this heritage. This machine was an early day threshing machine, restored in all its beauty to thresh wheat at this show. You can see that it took a long belt hooked up to an antique tractor to power it, a wagon full of wheat bundles to be threshed and a little flared-box wagon to gather the grains after it was separated from the chaff. And imagine that before this machine was engineered, there were horse drawn machines.
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needs & wants 12 June 2014
We’ve been getting so much rain that a chorus of what sounded like hundreds of frogs could be heard out in the pasture last night. Where do they come from? I’ve never heard that kind of choir out here and we paused and laughed and squished our way out through the bog to listen. I caught the storm leaving over the barn and then the incredible sunset. I began to ponder, which always gets me into trouble, but here you go:
The world needs less apathy, more wowsah! The world needs less rush, more smelling the roses and listening to frog choruses. The world needs less ignore it, more notice and fix. The world needs less disgust, more openness. The world needs less bitter, more joy. The world needs less fail, more learn and move on. The world needs less pre-packaged, more home grown. The world needs less IDK, more willing to risk. The world needs less walk away, more engage. The world needs less pointless, more what really counts. The world needs less “you’re late,” more “tell me about your day.” The world needs less frustration, more calm. The world needs less secrets, more honesty and truth. The world needs less grunting & griping, more patience. The world needs less needy, more provide. The world needs less heartache, more “I love you, babe.”
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Hope 11 June 2014
My Indian horse is a goober. He is powerful to ride with long legs flailing all over when he gallops. He nibbles my boot in the stirrup when we stop and he gets bored. For some reason he brings hope when I feel lost. What is hope?
Hope always believes even when you know there’s no way it will happen.
Hope is walking into the corral with your halter but really you’re going to have to walk out into the pasture with treats to get your horse to come in.
Hope is opening up each letter that comes from a publisher and sliding the paper out willing it to say, “Here is a contract for your book,” and keeping it anyway.
Hope is saying, “I love you” even when you don’t hear it back.
Hope is in every wrapped box under a tree.
Hope is kneeling by a rock for hours because elk showed up there last time.
Hope is waiting for the Fed-Ex man to come.
Hope is born each day before dawn when the stars and moon are still bright and the world is still and resting before you, and the coming day is open to all possibility.
Hope comes in many forms: a positive pregnancy test, a phone all from a sister, an email full of encouragement, a good job interview, a horse ride with a friend, the lights of Christmas, a favorite song on the radio, a dinner date, the smell of popcorn popping, a heifer fat with calf, new wheat sprouting in long rows, an egg in a nest, the sound of a horse waffling…
Hope cannot be taken from a strong heart—no matter the beatings, the harsh words, the hunger, the loneliness, the fear, the pain or the longing. Hope steals across and over all, like a dense fog and yet lifts the spirit like the sun lifts the blue of a new day.
Yahtzee 8 June 2014
I’ve been farming in this tractor. When I was working the other day, this antelope decided the edge of the field where I was farming was a good place to rest. He stayed there most of the day. You can spot him at the edge of the field about a third of the way from the left. Once storms moved in, the tractor was grounded until it dries out some. Today was especially stormy and rainy and we are thankful for the moisture! So, I was thinking about my favorite board game- Yahtzee. I love the way the dice sound when you shake them in the cup, and that you get three chances to roll the best set of numbers. I love the one where you can just add up the total of all your dice if you don’t roll anything else worth counting on the score sheet. Concentrating on the shake and chanting, “Yahtzee, Yahtzee, Yahtzee,” over and over sometimes produces the illusive five-dice coming up with the same number. Sometimes not. It can be loud, fairly fast-paced so it doesn’t take all night to play it AND you never go to jail or to the poor house. Plus, it’s math and what’s not fun about that?













