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.

Willow's First Taste

 

In a lush meadow nestled amidst the towering trees of the forest, Willow, a young deer, stood on wobbly legs. It was her first day venturing beyond the safety of her mother’s watchful gaze, eager to explore the world around her.

The morning sun cast a warm golden glow, painting the landscape in hues of green and gold. As the gentle breeze whispered through the tall grass, Willow caught a whiff of its sweet fragrance. Intrigued, she tiptoed closer, barely making a sound.

The grass bowed under the weight of morning dew, glistening like tiny diamonds scattered across the earth. Willow’s heart raced with excitement as she watched a butterfly flit from flower to flower, drinking in its sweet nectar.

Driven by a newfound curiosity, Willow inched closer, her eyes fixed on the emerald sea before her. Her nose quivered with anticipation as she extended her slender neck, reaching out to taste her first blade of grass.

At first, she hesitated. After all, she had only known her mother’s milk until now. As she brushed her tongue against the velvety grass, a burst of flavor exploded within her mouth. With each tender nibble, Willow felt a surge of energy.

As she feasted, the forest whispered its approval. The ancient trees bowed their branches acknowledging the passing of the torch from one generation to the next. They knew this fawn would grow into a creature as majestic and wise as the forest itself.

With her belly full and spirit awakened, the young deer stood tall. The grass gave Willow a taste of independence. With it, she took her first step toward becoming the guardian of the forest—a symbol of strength and harmony in a world of boundless wonder.

 Sunnie heading to the pond for a drink of water.

Happy Sunday!

In the dappled sunlight of a warm summer evening, Chester, a small rabbit, found himself in a precarious situation. With wide eyes and twitching whiskers, he crouched low amidst the swaying grass, his heart pounding in his chest. Just beyond the perimeter of the grassy lawn, a sturdy fence stood tall, enclosing a boisterous dog named Gus, full of playful energy. Chester knew he had to stay hidden, relying on his natural camouflage to blend seamlessly with the emerald blades surrounding him. Every rustle of wind or distant bark sent a jolt of fear through his delicate frame, urging him to stay motionless and invisible to the prying eyes of the canine. With bated breath, the rabbit held his position, hoping for a chance to escape the watchful gaze and find sanctuary beyond the reach of his eager pursuer.

Saturday Morning Backroad Ramble

 It was a gorgeous morning, so we loaded Gus (our red heeler) up in the truck and went for what we call 'a backroad ramble'.

First, we spotted this appaloosa colt and his mother. He was frisky, hopping around and kicking up his heals. I tried to upload a video, but it didn't work. He was so cute.

Then Hubby spotted this green heron in a tree.

I think I have a thing for paint horses. I had Hubby stop so I could take this shot.

As we drove up the road, I thought this was a pile of rocks, but as we got closer I discovered it was a pile of cows. :)

Pretty horses. Pretty colt.

Upon the return from our adventure, we had a welcoming committee. Reba, Ginger, and Bonnie. I think they were really just looking to see if there was food in the back of the truck. :)

When we drove off, Sunnie joined the group.

Have a wonderful Saturday!

Brahman Bull

Impressive Creature 

Humped cattle have been present in the United States since 1849, when a single bull of Indian origin was imported from the United Kingdom to South Carolina. Cross-breeding of humped cattle with local cows was the first step in the creation of the Brahman breed. The Brahman has a good tolerance of heat and is widespread in tropical regions. It is also resistant to insects thanks to its thick skin. Brahman cattle live longer than many other breeds, often producing calves at ages 15 and older.  

 Edge of Seventeen

Stevie Nicks

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, ooh, ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

And the days go by, like a strand in the wind

In the web that is my own, I begin again

Said to my friend, baby (everything stopped)

Nothin' else mattered

He was no more than a baby then

Well he seemed broken-hearted

Something within him

But the moment that I first laid

Eyes on him, all alone

On the edge of seventeen

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Well, I went today

Maybe I will go again tomorrow

Yeah yeah, well, the music there

Well, it was hauntingly familiar

Well, I see you doing what I try to do for me

With the words from a poet and a voice from a choir

And a melody, and nothing else mattered

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

The clouds never expect it when it rains

But the sea changes colours

But the sea does not change

So with the slow, graceful flow of age

I went forth with an age old desire to please

On the edge of seventeen

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Well, then suddenly there was no one

Left standing in the hall, yeah, yeah

In a flood of tears

That no one really ever heard fall at all

Well, I went searchin' for an answer

Up the stairs and down the hall

And not to find an answer

Just to hear the call

Of a nightbird singing, "Come away"

(Come away, come away)

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

I said ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Well I hear you in the morning

And I hear you at nightfall

Sometimes to be near you

Is to be unable to feel you, my love

I'm a few years older than you

(I'm a few years older than you) my love

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Just like the white winged dove

Sings a song, sounds like she's singing

Ooh, baby, ooh, said ooh

Songwriters: Stevie Nicks.

“Edge of Seventeen” is a song by Stevie Nicks that was released in 1981. The song was inspired by the death of John Lennon and Nicks’ uncle. The white-winged dove in the song represents the spirit leaving the body on death, and some of the verses capture her experience of the days leading up to her uncle Jonathan's death.

Trail Ride

It was a gorgeous day for the 6th Annual Bobby E. Hatton Memorial Scholarship Trail Ride at Dunbroke Farm—70 degrees and sunshine. Four students received scholarships, then it was time to enjoy barbecue, potato salad, and beans, along with a variety of desserts. Following chow, the auctioneer went to work. The generosity of the items donated by the community was amazing.

 

Foggy Morning

This is the first morning to have a new horse in the front pasture, so we wanted to make sure she didn't find a way to escape. The fog was so thick, we couldn't find any of the four horses. A little while later, I was able to zoom in and see all of them.

This is Sunnie, she is a lineback dun. 

Reba, on the left, is a red roan. 

Bonnie, on the right, is a bay.

Ginger is a chestnut.

Happy Monday!

Chester

 

In a quiet corner of the Crow’s backyard, Chester, a male house finch, perched upon a sturdy branch. The warm rays of sunshine colored his feathers a vibrant red. His brown eyes twinkled with excitement as he observed Rosie, a female house finch, hopping nearby. Her feathers were a blend of light browns and subtle pinks. Enchanted by her delicate beauty, Chester puffed out his chest, feeling proud to call her his mate.

With a graceful flutter of her wings, Rosie approached the feeder hanging from a tree. The tantalizing aroma of fresh seeds promised a tasty feast. Chester felt a profound sense of responsibility for Rosie’s safety, so he hopped onto a branch above the feeder to keep a watchful eye over his love.

He hopped from one branch to the other, chattering away, remembering their adventures and explaining the wonders of the world beyond the yard. She listened intently, her soft peeps mingling with his chirps, creating a symphony of affection and companionship.

A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, carrying with it a faint whisper of danger. Chester’s instincts kicked in, his bright eyes scanning the surroundings for signs of trouble. Although he didn’t see the enemy, he sensed a lurking presence—a predator on the prowl.

In an instant, Chester alerted Rosie to the impending threat. His wings urgently fluttered as he urged her to flee with him to safety. Without hesitation, they took flight, wings beating in unison, carrying them away from the menacing bird of prey.

They soared through the air, leaving danger behind. He guided her through narrow gaps between branches and led her to a secluded grove, far from the prying eyes of predators.

As they landed on a sheltered branch, their hearts pounded from fear and exertion. They perched side by side, panting, but relieved to have escaped unscathed. Chester nuzzled Rosie affectionately, his gentle voice filled with adoration for the brave female beside him.

Once they felt safe, the two returned to their favorite backyard, where Chester continued to watch over his Rosie for the rest of their days.

Super Bowl XIX

                           

On January 20, 1985, the San Francisco 49ers defeated the Miami Dolphins by the score of 38–16, at Stanford Stadium, on the campus of Stanford University in Stanford, California, the first Super Bowl played in the San Francisco Bay Area.

The halftime show didn’t feature the likes of Rihanna or Michael Jackson. Instead, the show, World of Children’s Dreams, featured Tops in Blue, an elite performing tour ensemble from members of the U.S. Air Force.

I happily paid the exorbitant price of $300, purchased from a scalper, for a ticket in the corner about halfway between the field and the nosebleed section. I can only describe the excitement in the air as electric. It felt tangible.

That experience remains one of my favorite lifetime events.

With all the hype, I can’t help but compare Super Bowl XLIV, thirty-eight years later, to XIX. The most glaring difference, according to Google, the average ticket price today is over $7000.00.

After returning home, I sat down and wrote my very first poem. 

The flight took off smooth as silk

flying toward Knob hill.

Golden Gate Bridge

beautiful view, Fairmont’s bill.

 

Fisherman’s Wharf,

View of the west,

Chinatown.

Ate too much seafood, no rest.

 

Breakfast early,

Anticipation rose with the sun.

Come on 49ers

we crave lots more fun.

 

Everyone is happy,

excitement crackles in the air.

Have a Bud Light

Be sad if you dare.

 

Montana and Marino

wait for the call.

Where is that coin toss?

Who’ll get the ball?

 

Fans boo Reagan,

Cheer for their team.

Drink lots of beer,

Become somewhat obscene.

 

The game is over,

49ers can’t be beat.

San Francisco is chaotic,

Dolphins sigh in defeat.

 

Cowboy players fill half the plane.

All of us hoping next year will bring,

The Dallas Cowboys

A Super Bowl ring!

 

I don’t have a pony in the show this year. I will watch The San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo instead. But I will remember …

Happy New Year!

 

Hello Book Lovers:

Happy New Year! Can tomorrow really be 1/1/2023? Seems like a day or two ago, I slept through New Year’s Eve 2022. What are your plans for tonight? Mine? A tasty dinner, a cocktail for a toast, and asleep by ten. I can’t remember the last time I stayed awake to welcome a new year. Maybe this is a good time to try again.

What will you be serving at your celebration? Having lived in Texas for many years, we enjoy Mexican food. The menu: enchiladas, Spanish rice, and margaritas. 

My favorite drink recipe follows:

                Classic Margarita

1 wedge lime

1 teaspoon coarse sea salt, or as needed

1 large ice cube per drink

2 fluid ounces white tequila 

1 ½ fluid ounces triple sec

1 fluid ounce freshly squeezed lime juice

1 slice lime

 

Directions

Moisten the rim of a glass with a lime wedge. Sprinkle salt onto a plate. Lightly dip the moistened rim into the salt. Place a large ice cube in the glass and freeze the prepared glass until ready to serve.

Fill a cocktail shaker with fresh ice. Add tequila, triple sec, and lime juice. Cover and shake vigorously until the outside of the shaker has frosted.

Strain margarita into the chilled glass and garnish with a slice of lime.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

                                                                                               

Looking back over the past twelve months, I have a lot to be thankful for. My second novel, Down Riverton Road, has been receiving excellent reviews, as has my first novel, Blackthorne Cove. I am thankful to those of you who read them and took the time to leave a review or sent an email expressing your appreciation. A huge thanks to those who referred the books to friends and shared on social media. It's thrilling to know you enjoyed projects I worked so hard on and poured my heart into. Thank you.

Amazon Review - Down Riverton Road: "The author creates a story that contains mystery, drama, and a central character, Livvy, who is very relatable. The intrigue starts on page one and held my attention to the very end. Masterful writing!" 

Amazon Review - of Blackthorne Cove: "From beginning to end, I loved this book! Skillfully written and entwined in an exhilaratingly suspenseful storyline. Watching these characters go through horrific tragedy, grow up, recover from tragedy and find love. My only dislike is that it is over."

New Year's Resolutions

What will you resolve for 2023? Me? I can't seem to keep them, so I decided to save myself the stress and forego the tradition. Would love to hear about yours. Maybe I will be inspired. :)

New Year's Day

Are you a black-eyed pea or cabbage believer? Growing up in Illinois, we ate cabbage to make sure we had a prosperous year. After moving to the south, I noticed most people prepared black-eyed peas, so now I serve both. No need to take chances. :)

Miscellaneous:

After not going to a movie since COVID, I watched Top Gun Maverick and Where the Crawdads Sing at the theater. If you haven’t seen either, I highly recommend both. Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens is one of my favorite reads from last year.

We didn’t travel much in 2022. We stayed near home and went on several back-road rambles. In case you aren’t familiar with this phrase, a back-road ramble is my term for driving down dirt and gravel roads looking for nature photo opportunities. I’m especially interested in birds and horses, but love coming across an occasional bobcat or coyote.

We have a great grandchild due soon. After about twenty years of avoiding crafts, I picked up a crochet hook to make a baby afghan. It's been a struggle to get my fingers to remember how to hold the yarn and hook, but I think I finally have it down. It's about half finished. I think I'll make the deadline.

Remember, books make wonderful gifts anytime of the year. :)

Well, that's all for today, folks! Have a safe holiday!

I would love to hear from you. My email address is:

bettyjcrow2021@gmail.com    

Stay tuned, I'm planning a giveaway in January.