Weekend Roundup -- Z

 This weeks assignment: A word with a Z in it, Favorite, and looks like Z

Word with a Z in it: This is an action shot of two BUZZARDS fighting.

Favorite: I couldn't come up with a Z horse, but this is a favorite photo of mine. 

Looks like a Z: I couldn't find anything that looks like a Z, so taking liberties here. How about a ZANY cat. This guy happened to be on the window of a store. Okay, one of the many dispensaries I drive by on my way to the grocery store. I thought he was cute, so couldn't resist snapping his picture.

Linking to The Weekend Roundup 

The Weekend Roundup - Y

This week's assignment: Starts with Y, Favorite, and Yard.

Starts with Y: My mother taught me to crochet at a young age, but I haven't picked up a hook in a long time. Of course, the anticipation of a great granddaughter changed that. It took until after her birth for me to finish it, but it was all packaged up for the baby shower. Loved the purple YARN.

Favorite: It's a horse, of course! This is one I saw during a backroad ramble. Loved the dark stormy sky and the YELLOW flowers.

Yard: We visited a friend of Don's in Texas. He loves peacocks and has several roaming around in his YARD.

Linking to The Weekend Roundup

Rosco the Squirrel

 

All the forest creatures knew Rosco as the most mischievous squirrel in the woods. One morning, as he scurried along the fence separating the woods from Farmer Harvey’s yard, he put on the brakes and stood up on his hind legs. His nose frantically wiggled back and forth, sniffing the air. The aroma of fresh seeds and nuts filled his nostrils.

Concentrating on lunch, Rosco set his sights on a bird feeder attached to a post on the side of the farmer’s carport. Harvey had filled it with a treasure trove of delectable delights—all the squirrel’s favorites. With his eyes on the prize, he failed to notice a guard watching him from the roof. Red, the mighty woodpecker, glared down from his perch.

When Rosco looked up, he saw the dreaded woodpecker and promptly slid to a stop behind a rosebush. From his hiding place, he observed Red’s routine. Determined to satisfy his ravenous appetite, Rosco concocted a daring plan.

When the guard took a break, with nimble paws and saliva dripping down his chin, Rosco made his way up the post. With one swift movement, he pried open the lid and plunged his tiny paws inside.

A flurry of wings caught him off guard. Red returned in time to see the squirrel pilfering the bird’s food. Furious, the woodpecker swooped down and attacked Rosco’s tail with his sharp beak. Startled and in pain, Rosco leaped from the post and scurried away.

That day, Rosco learned a lesson. The farmer hung the feeder for birds, not squirrels. By taking food without permission, he would have been guilty of theft, and he didn’t want to be a thief.

Rosco scampered off in search of a snack and a trick to play on some unsuspecting critter. As he ventured deeper into the forest, he stumbled upon a majestic pecan tree near Rancher Willie’s pond, its branches heavy with plump, irresistible nuts.

About to climb the tree, he remembered the lesson he learned from his encounter with Red and the birdfeeder. Taking something without permission is wrong, no matter how tempting.

Instead of eating his fill, Rosco played a different game. He devised a plan to gather the pecans and leave them as a surprise gift for his forest friends. With nimble paws and a heart filled with joy, he collected the pecans one by one and carefully arranged them in little piles near the tree.

Noticing Rosco’s unusual behavior, all the forest creatures gathered around to watch. They couldn’t believe their eyes—the mischievous squirrel had turned into a thoughtful and generous friend. As Rosco arranged the last pile of pecans, the birds chirped their approval, while the squirrels chattered with delight.

From that day forward, Rosco became a symbol of transformation and the embodiment of the forest’s newfound spirit of togetherness. He spent his days exploring the woods, not for mischief, but to lend a helping paw and bring joy to his fellow creatures.

***Side note: I believe Rosco wrote this story to make himself look good. He came back when we weren't looking and ate the suet put out for the woodpeckers.

The Dance

 As the morning sun painted the sky in hues of gold, a serene pond lay nestled within a grove of trees. Native grass swayed gently, its reflection shimmering on the water’s surface. Along the shore, a patient blue heron stood motionless, its piercing eyes fixed on a lone fish gliding through the shallows.

With each step, the heron’s long legs moved gracefully, making nary a sound. Its sapphire feathers blended seamlessly with the tranquil water. The heron knew the art of stillness, understanding its greatest ally is patience.

The fish, unaware of its stalker, danced in the morning light, gracefully weaving back-and-forth in the shallows. Its silver scales glistened, allowing a glimpse of nature’s perfection. The heron’s heart raced with anticipation as it inched closer, its slender neck stretching forward, ready to strike.

Time seemed to hold its breath as the heron reached striking distance. With lightning speed, it plunged its dagger-like beak into the water, aiming for the elusive fish. But the pond, too, had its secrets, and the fish, sensing the danger, darted away in a flash.

The heron’s beak met only the cool touch of water, leaving behind a ripple that spread across the pond. Undeterred, the heron gracefully retreated, regaining its composure. It understood the ebb and flow of the hunt, the delicate balance of success and failure.

With renewed determination, the heron resumed its vigil along the shore. Its keen eyes surveyed the waters, searching for another opportunity. The heron will continue to execute this never-ending dance with the fish—performing a concert in the eternal embrace of nature’s tapestry.

Happy Wednesday

Linking to Wild Bird Wednesday

Mustangs

Mustangs are free-roaming horses of the western United States, descended from horses brought to the Americas by the Spanish. They are often referred to as wild horses, but because they are descended from once-domesticated animals, they are actually feral horses. The free-roaming horse population is managed and protected by the U.S. Bureau of Land Management (BLM). To manage their population, the BLM will round up excess mustangs and offer them for adoption by private individuals. 

There is a ranch we sometimes pass with a large population of mustangs. Usually, they are scattered far away from the highway, but on this day a few were near the fence. 

My favorite is this paint.

Weekend Roundup - W

 This week's assignment: Starts with W, favorite, and water.

Starts with W: WINDOW starts with W. This one is in the dining room of the house where President Eisenhower's was born.

Favorite: Horses are always my favorite. Our WET welcoming committee as we came home from an early dinner. 

Water: These cows were enjoying a 90° day at the pool.

Linking to The Weekend Roundup 

Farrier Day

Bonnie's getting new shoes. She is a gentle horse and allows the farrier to pick up and work on each hoof without complaint. Others are not as cooperative.

A farrier is a specialist in equine hoof care, including the trimming and balancing of horses' hooves and the placing of shoes when necessary.

 

Ditch Flowers

As a little girl, a friend of mine referred to wildflowers as ditch flowers. I find most of the best ones in ditches, so I adopted the phrase. Here are a few I found on my last backroad ramble. I don't know most of their names.

Beneath golden sun,

Wildflower dances, untamed,

Nature's vibrant muse. 

Below is an Indian Paintbrush bloom, my favorite wildflower.

Happy Monday!

Linking to Nature Notes

The Weekend Roundup - V

 I haven't participated in The Weekend Roundup in a long time. Here are my excuses: I've been doing a lot of writing, our internet sucks, life gets busy, and sometimes even hurts. Whatever the reason, I miss playing along, so decided to try my luck.

This week's assignment: Starts with V, favorite, and Violet. So here goes: 

Starts with V: Vultures. These two were fighting over a roadkill delicacy. 

Favorite: My love of horses continues. This is one of my favorite pastimes—horse races. The number 2 horse is on his way to VICTORY, but his win gave me a dollar loss.

Violet: In reality, this is lavender, but sure looks VIOLET to me. :)

Linking to:  The Weekend Roundup

Raccoon Trickery

 

Ollie, a red-bellied woodpecker, lived in the heart of a lush forest. A real go-getter, he spent his days drilling holes in trees, searching for tasty insects to fill his belly. But one night, Ollie’s world turned topsy-turvy. As the moon rose high in the sky, a mischievous critter named Rocky paid Ollie a visit.

 Rocky, a lively raccoon, loved to explore the forest at night. As he watched Ollie settle into his cozy nest in a towering oak tree, Rocky saw an opportunity for some nocturnal fun. He tiptoed up the tree, playfully tapping the branches and rustling the leaves to rouse Ollie from his slumber.

Night after night, Rocky’s tricks persisted. He chased fireflies, causing them to dart around Ollie’s head. Sometimes he bounced from branch to branch, causing the tree to sway and creak, ensuring his friend remained wide awake.

Exhausted, Ollie yearned for a peaceful night’s rest. But try as he might, Rocky’s antics kept him awake. His once-bright eyes grew heavy, his wings felt weary, and his pecking became sluggish.

One morning, as the sun’s rays filtered through the trees, Ollie couldn’t fight the fatigue any longer. He settled on a sturdy branch, hoping to catch a quick nap. The forest was still, except for the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional songbird’s melody.

As Ollie’s eyes closed, a hush fell over the forest. Rocky, who watched Ollie struggle, realized the impact of his nighttime pranks. Filled with remorse, he wanted to make amends. He stealthily climbed the oak tree and perched near Ollie. He watched over his friend, making sure no creature disturbed him. The forest critters took notice and joined Rocky in his mission.

Throughout the day, as Ollie slept peacefully, his forest friends created a serene atmosphere. The birds sang lullabies while the squirrels ceased dancing from branch to branch. Even the wind whispered gently through the leaves, caressing Ollie’s feathery head.

As the sun settled into dusk, Ollie stirred from sleep. He opened his eyes to find Rocky and the other critters watching over him. Gratitude welled up in his heart, and he expressed his heartfelt thanks to Rocky for his newfound kindness.

From that day forward, the woodpecker and the raccoon forged a unique friendship. Thanks to Rocky, Ollie didn’t have any more sleepless nights.

Denison, Texas

Daughter, Tex, came to visit from Illinois. On Wednesday, we drove to Denison, Texas. Lucky us, we found Dillards, our favorite place to shop when we lived in Dallas. Since we arrived before the store opened, we went to Grandy’s for breakfast. Disappointing for me, but Tex liked hers. It wasn’t as tasty as I remembered.

Tex found the perfect outfit in record time. Since we were nearby, we toured President Dwight David Eisenhower’s birthplace.

No one knew this house had historical value until Miss Jennie Jackson, a young school teacher who lived across the street, recognized the name Eisenhower from the news. She wondered if this was the same family as her former neighbors. After corresponding with the family, she received confirmation this was the house where he was born.

Dwight Eisenhower, future Five Star General, Liberator of Europe, and 34th President of the United States, was born in this room on October 14, 1890 to Ida Stover Eisenhower and David Eisenhower, who worked for the MKT Railroad.

The shoes represent the members of the Eisenhower family who lived here in 1890, David, the father: Ida, the mother; oldest brother Arthur (born in 1886); and Edgar (born in 1889). The booties on the rocking chair are reserved for baby Dwight.

The Eisenhowers rented this house from 1889 to 1892. The furniture inside the house didn't belong to the family, it was donated by the women of Denison after the city purchased the house in 1946 to commemorate President Eisenhower.

David and Ida Eisenhower took religion very seriously. They named their son Dwight after an evangelical preacher. While their religious roots were Mennonite, and Lutheran, both parents later followed the teachings of Charles Taze Russell, who founded the Jehovah's Witnesses.

The parlor is where the family spent time in the evening or entertained visitors on Sunday. David and Ida met at a small college in Kansas. David opened a general store in Hope, Kansas, after their marriage, but the business failed after three years ... hence the move to Denison, Texas for a job. The furnishings are typical of the time period and reflect the Eisenhower's working-class status.

Dwight Eisenhower visited his birthplace for the first time in April of 1946 after he was invited by Jennie Jackson, who in 1890 visited Ida and her new-born son in this house. The city of Denison, the Honorable Sam Rayborn, Speaker of the House, and Miss Jennie Jackson hosted what is known as the "Big Texas Breakfast".

This typical 1890's kitchen is where Ida Stover Eisenhower would have baked bread, gathered eggs, and cooked corn. One of her recipes was for corn meal mush: boiled, ground corn, cooked with lard and meat scraps, shaped into a loaf, sliced and fried. 

Ida cooked on a coal-fired stove. Arthur, the eldest son, remembers picking up unspent coal along the tracks across the street with his mother and brothers to feed the stove and help save money.

The Eisenhowers shared their house with another family. Jim Redmond a fireman for the Missouri, Kansas, and Texas Railway, and his wife Fannie lived upstairs. Jim fetched the doctor the night Dwight Eisenhower was born. The families saved money by sharing rent expenses.

The Eisenhower statute sculpture was created by Robert Dean. He was a 1953 graduate of the U.S. Military Academy at West Point. He marched in President Eisenhower's 1953 inauguration parade. It was dedicated in 1973 by Julie Nixon Eisenhower, President Nixon's daughter who married President Eisenhower's grandson David. 

*The information provided in this post was obtained from signs inside the house and a handout given to me by the guide.