You know that hazy, not quite awake time in the morning, just before light, and your mind starts to wander through the things you will do this glorious day.
This morning I was thinking I would take photos of the chickens, as they free-range in the pasture.
Except, we don’t have chickens.
Instead, you get this.
One paint gelding, rolling and running in the pasture.
I know, it’s not the same as chickens, but it will have to do until I figure out how to photograph the cackling hens in my hazy mind.
Even though I was standing on a bar stool hootin’ and hollerin’ when you first laid eyes on me, you asked me to dance anyway.
Even though I puked in your combat boots the night before Thanksgiving, you married me anyway.
Even though we’ve had to rumble with more in sickness than in health these 29 years, you love me anyway.
I find you incredibly glorious, enduring gentle.
and handsome.
Happy Anniversary, Hunky.
MM Quotes:
I also remember you making snow angels out at the back gate to McConnell AFB while I was trying to get a pass for my vehicle from the security folks. “Yep, she’s completely sober officer”
The closest we came to a marriage proposal was when she had heard from our friend Tim, that our unit was deactivating and all the people would be leaving. [Tamy] “Were you just going to leave without telling me?” [Bob]: “Well I was thinking of taking you with me” [Tamy]: “I ain’t shacking up with you” [Bob]: “I was thinking I’d marry you” [And there's the romantic proposal] Haha
Redneck Wedding: 25 June 1984, Sedgwick County Courthouse, Wichita, KS. My car was at the shop for repairs so our friend, Susan gave us a ride to the courthouse in her pickup truck. The judge asked if we wanted it short/sweet or the “religious vows” (we chose the latter even though neither of us was “religious”). The reception was at Tamy’s parent’s place, a backyard BBQ with lawn-chairs and coolers full of refreshments. Our wedding night was spent in a rough trailer park on South Broadway where we were renting an old mobile home with no air conditioning. And none of that mattered because this Iowa boy was in love with this Kansas girl and neither one of us needed anything but each other.
My Hunky’s new job allows him two three day weekends every month, I know, dude!
Anyway, he is off today, so we are tackling some jobs around the ranch.
I started taking cayenne pepper and am seeing major progress with my digestive issues in only two days. It might be coincidence, but I am rolling with it, until it don’t roll no mo.
I feel FREAKING good!
Okay, I need to get back out there and tackle some more weeds, while Hunky is tending the burn pile.
It held little, but really all this knobby-kneed varmint could handle.
I harvested enough of the tomatoes, gypsy peppers and onion for the first bit of salsa this season. Something about that first taste, that fresh upon tongue, nothing like it.
I also put together a pot of chicken and noodles. Can’t even remember the last time. Despite the fact that I cannot eat solid foods, I indulged. With abandon. Wanting each spoonful to not be the last, knowing the ending would not be as glorious as this beginning.
And danged if I didn’t take a couple bites of that lemon cake.
I embraced rebellion and danced wildly.
Dipped it like a drunken saloon girl.
Buffalo Girls is playing in the background. Calamity has just handed her baby Janie to the strangers who will raise her, and turns to walk away, broken.
Those words from this morning come flying back to me. Those words my daughter scripted from soul. Those words that found their way to the deepest part of me.
We keep each other in sight as long as possible until the current happens to sweep us one way or another.
She knows. She knows her momma will hand her children to this strange and wild frontier, and turn and walk away, broken.
The desert, she continues to call, tempting me to believe there is healing in her sand.
I want to believe.
The what ifs, they can cause a worn out cowgirl to get lost.
What if we get out there and nothing changes, and we’ve given up these lightly, scattered nests?
He says, then we’ll move back. nothing is permanent.
He surprises me with his obliging spirit, his learned willingness to let our life currents move us on down the gully, even when we land in a dried up wash in the desert.
He wears this well. Whatever this beautiful thing is, I see glimpses of it in his children. I know they will more than survive their own life currents, so I can release them.
Today anyway.
If you want to read all of my daughter’s words and the beautiful things she says about me, I took them from her post Heart:Riverbend.
I forgot I wanted to tell you I am reading posts, just not leaving a lot of comments because it requires me to sit up. I am using my energy for some of the things around here. I thank you beautiful varmints for continuing to understand and not hold me to a standard I could never manage these days. I think I may just use smileys for awhile, so you will know I have been there.
I kept hoping something miraculous would happen so I wouldn’t have to write the words to the story for another day. Not that something miraculous couldn’t still happen, I’ve experienced too much in my life to not be open to supernatural occurrences.
God is a constant in my life, but in the area of physical healing, I have yet to experience wondrous and glorious things.
Am I angry?
Not at the moment, but you never know what a few minutes will bring. I have had many seasons of *kick grumble spit* over the years. And that is okay. Really, it is. Don’t ever let anyone tell you it’s wrong to be angry with God. Merited or not, He can handle it. Even if you never admit it or release it, He knows.
I was born with digestive issues. Literally from day one of my life, I have been unable to have a functioning stomach and colon. It was diagnosed as Crohn’s Disease. Some say it is an autoimmune issue. Some say it is diet. Some say it is stress. But they really don’t know.
Some Crohnies have semi-success with clean eating. I have not. I now allow myself some play room with food, since discovering over the years that consuming even just liquids, doesn’t heal my colon.
I’ve been really hard on myself over the years. Trying to cure an incurable disease is an endless and frustrating cause. I’ve had to continuously remember to not hold onto irrational guilt. And to not release all things unholy onto well meaning friends, family, strangers who swear by the latest snake oil, THIS WILL HEAL YOU.
And of course, I am an idiot, if I do not try it.
Like I want to be sick. *rolling my eyes*
Like I enjoy vomiting up the scrambled eggs I tried to eat for breakfast.
Or being so weak because I cannot conceive putting one more thing in my mouth only to leave me curled up in my bed from the pain and nausea.
And of course, it’s always a blast trying to birth buffalo through an inflamed colon, hoping the people in the next room can’t hear me.
I look at it this way; if someone was born with a defective arm, would they expect them to grow a new one?
Yes, I do believe there are many conditions out there that can be improved, even cured, and we should do all that we can to ensure a better quality of life.
For the last 48 years I have tried every snake oil, natural supplement and chemical med known to man. Because, when you stop trying, you lose hope.
And to be honest, it’s not the snake oil, the natural supplements or chemical meds that have kept me going, but what is already inside of me.
Vision.
Dream.
Picturing myself doing the things that are in me to do.
Some might say that is setting myself up for failure, that I need to accept my physical limitations and deal with it. But, the thought of living this way until I die is dangerous.
Depression sinks in, burying life while it is still breathing.
You all have witnessed the chaos over the last few months, I’m giving up my dog rescue. No, I’m not. I’m letting go of my horses. No, I can’t.
Moving to Arizona. Staying in Oklahoma.
I have no freaking idea.
It’s okay. You can laugh. It’s what gets me through.
I’ve never found myself in such a place of indecisiveness. I’ve always known what I wanted and just went for it.
My feet seem unable to move, to take steps to anywhere. But, at the same time, there is this need to move forward.
But, I have no idea the direction.
Even though Crohn’s is a physical disease, it chemically imbalances the brain, leaving one to feel quite unstable. And I’m sure my ability to laugh in its presence, confirms the madness.
One of the most difficult struggles for me is not the obvious issues of digestion, but the emaciation of the muscles in my legs. Two of the things I love most in this world, hiking and horseback riding require healthy muscles. Though I can *hike* the trails with the help of my Hunky, riding a horse is a little more complicated. It can be dangerous on a horse without the strength of those muscles.
It’s what contributes to your balance and ability to cue your horse.
With the use of a chair and the assistance of my son, I was able to mount my mare, Red Bull. It felt good to climb onto her back and feel closer to the sky. She allows me to fly.
Our ride only lasted about fifteen minutes, it’s all my legs could handle. The spasms in my muscles lasted for about two hours, but it was worth it.
Sometimes we just need to do the things we can’t do.
a garden even a scrawny, weak-kneed Wild Woman can maintain.
I will admit, it looks a bit redneck, but it seems to be working for me and the plants.
I’ve pulled two, count them, only two tiny weeds from these container beds this season. All of my raised beds have been taken over because my mangy mutt self just isn’t able to keep up with it when I am out of remission. Which seems to have taken up permanent residence. We will save that glorious (not so glorious) story for another time.
I’m going to focus on the lovely things in my life today.
Can you taste the salsa already?
How do you like your salsa, hot, mild, sweet, lots of cilantro?
If you run your mouse over the photos, you will see the captions. If you click here, you can see the containers at planting time.
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