She has earned her nursing degree through measles, chicken pox, mumps, pneumonia, polio, TB, fevers, stitches, flu, fractured arms and broken hearts.
At one time or another her closet held housedresses, feathered hats, white gloves, skirts with short hemlines and with long hemlines, pants suits, billowy dresses of chiffon, sheath dresses, a Sunday coat and the Christmas toys she ordered from the Sears catalog.
Her heart has known the ecstasy of a man's love, the joy of children, the heartbreak of their mistakes, the warmth of life's friendships, the celebration of weddings, the magnificent blessings of grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Who can count the floors she scrubbed, the dinners she cooked, the birthday gifts she wrapped, the spelling words she listened to, the bedtime stories she read, the excuses she heard, the prayers she whispered to God each day?
Her arms have rocked generations of babies. Her hands have prepared countless "favorite" dishes. Her knees have knelt in prayer time and time again for those she loved. Her mouth has kissed owwies that hurt. Her back has bent to bathe dirty cowboys, pick up teens' clothes, gather flowers from her garden and grow old.
She has journeyed through life with its tears and laughter, watching yesterday's sunsets become tomorrow's sunrises of hope and promise. Because of her and the man who took her hand, family life and love continue through the generations.
When a mother blows out 75 candles, blessed are they who surround her with their love.
Friday, 12 December 2008
Wednesday, 10 December 2008
whined and struggled
The man sat up in the snow for a moment and struggled for calmness. Then he pulled on his
mittens, by means of his teeth, and got upon his feet. He glanced down at first in order to
assure himself that he was really standing up, for the absence of sensation in his feet left
him unrelated to the earth. His erect position in itself started to drive the webs of
suspicion from the dog's mind; and when he spoke peremptorily, with the sound of whiplashes
in his voice, the dog rendered its customary allegiance and came to him. As it came within
reaching distance, the man lost his control. His arms flashed out to the dog, and he
experienced genuine surprise when he discovered that his hands could not clutch, that there
was neither bend nor feeling in the fingers. He had forgotten for the moment that they were
frozen and that they were freezing more and more. All this happened quickly, and before the
animal could get away, he encircled its body with his arms. He sat down in the snow, and in
this fashion held the dog, while it snarled and whined and struggled.
mittens, by means of his teeth, and got upon his feet. He glanced down at first in order to
assure himself that he was really standing up, for the absence of sensation in his feet left
him unrelated to the earth. His erect position in itself started to drive the webs of
suspicion from the dog's mind; and when he spoke peremptorily, with the sound of whiplashes
in his voice, the dog rendered its customary allegiance and came to him. As it came within
reaching distance, the man lost his control. His arms flashed out to the dog, and he
experienced genuine surprise when he discovered that his hands could not clutch, that there
was neither bend nor feeling in the fingers. He had forgotten for the moment that they were
frozen and that they were freezing more and more. All this happened quickly, and before the
animal could get away, he encircled its body with his arms. He sat down in the snow, and in
this fashion held the dog, while it snarled and whined and struggled.
Monday, 8 December 2008
tank of oxygen
She secretly hopes a tank of oxygen is one of her gifts.
Through the years she has hollered, said and prayed, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, grant me patience!" 1,245,187 times.
Her hands have hung diapers on pulley clotheslines, sterilized bottles, carried babies from the third-floor apartment, ironed sunsuits and proudly pushed baby buggies.
She has peeled more potatoes than six marines on K.P. duty.
Her hair has been set in steel curlers, permed, rinsed with Nestle's coloring capsules, and styled in pageboys, the poodle look and the beehive hairdo; been permed again and turned silver.
The "parlor" was where she entertained company, the "pantry" held the groceries, the "icebox" held a pint of ice cream, and the "wringer washing machine" was hers to use on Tuesday.
Through the years she has hollered, said and prayed, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, grant me patience!" 1,245,187 times.
Her hands have hung diapers on pulley clotheslines, sterilized bottles, carried babies from the third-floor apartment, ironed sunsuits and proudly pushed baby buggies.
She has peeled more potatoes than six marines on K.P. duty.
Her hair has been set in steel curlers, permed, rinsed with Nestle's coloring capsules, and styled in pageboys, the poodle look and the beehive hairdo; been permed again and turned silver.
The "parlor" was where she entertained company, the "pantry" held the groceries, the "icebox" held a pint of ice cream, and the "wringer washing machine" was hers to use on Tuesday.
Saturday, 6 December 2008
his arms and sit
But it was all he could do, hold its body encircled in his arms and sit there. He realized
that he could not kill the dog. There was no way to do it. With his helpless hands he could
neither draw nor hold his sheath knife nor throttle the animal. He released it, and it
plunged wildly away, with tail between its legs, and still snarling. It halted forty feet
away and surveyed him curiously, with ears sharply pricked forward. The man looked down at
his hands in order to locate them, and found them hanging on the ends of his arms. It struck
him as curious that one should have to use his eyes in order to find out where his hands
were. He began threshing his arms back and forth, beating the mittened hands against his
sides. He did this for five minutes, violently, and his heart pumped enough blood up to the
surface to put a stop to his shivering. But no sensation was aroused in the hands. He had an
impression that they hung like weights on the ends of his arms, but when he tried to run the
impression down, he could not find it.
that he could not kill the dog. There was no way to do it. With his helpless hands he could
neither draw nor hold his sheath knife nor throttle the animal. He released it, and it
plunged wildly away, with tail between its legs, and still snarling. It halted forty feet
away and surveyed him curiously, with ears sharply pricked forward. The man looked down at
his hands in order to locate them, and found them hanging on the ends of his arms. It struck
him as curious that one should have to use his eyes in order to find out where his hands
were. He began threshing his arms back and forth, beating the mittened hands against his
sides. He did this for five minutes, violently, and his heart pumped enough blood up to the
surface to put a stop to his shivering. But no sensation was aroused in the hands. He had an
impression that they hung like weights on the ends of his arms, but when he tried to run the
impression down, he could not find it.
Thursday, 4 December 2008
what seemed to him
pictured the boys finding his body next day. Suddenly he found himself with them, coming
along the trail and looking for himself. And, still with them, he came around a turn in the
trail and found himself lying in the snow. He did not belong with himself any more, for even
then he was out of himself, standing with the boys and looking at himself in the snow. It
certainly was cold, was his thought. When he got back to the States he could tell the folks
what real cold was He drifted on from this to a vision of the old-timer on Sulphur Creek He
could see him quite clearly, warm and comfortable, and smoking a pipe.
"You were right, old hoss; you were right," the man mumbled to the old-timer of Sulphur
Creek.
Then the man drowsed off into what seemed to him the most comfortable and satisfying sleep
he had ever known. The dog sat facing him and waiting. The brief day drew to a close in a
long, slow twilight. There were no signs of a fire to be made, and, besides, never in the
dog's experience had it known a man to sit like that in the snow and make no fire. As the
twilight drew on, its eager yearning for the fire mastered it, and with a great lifting and
shifting of forefeet, it whined softly, then flattened its ears down in anticipation of
being chidden by the man. But the man remained silent. Later, the dog whined loudly. And
still later it crept close to the man and caught the scent of death. This made the animal
bristle and back away. A little longer it delayed, howling under the stars that leaped and
danced and shone brightly in the cold sky. Then it turned and trotted up the trail in the
direction of the camp it knew, where were the other food-providers and fire-providers.
along the trail and looking for himself. And, still with them, he came around a turn in the
trail and found himself lying in the snow. He did not belong with himself any more, for even
then he was out of himself, standing with the boys and looking at himself in the snow. It
certainly was cold, was his thought. When he got back to the States he could tell the folks
what real cold was He drifted on from this to a vision of the old-timer on Sulphur Creek He
could see him quite clearly, warm and comfortable, and smoking a pipe.
"You were right, old hoss; you were right," the man mumbled to the old-timer of Sulphur
Creek.
Then the man drowsed off into what seemed to him the most comfortable and satisfying sleep
he had ever known. The dog sat facing him and waiting. The brief day drew to a close in a
long, slow twilight. There were no signs of a fire to be made, and, besides, never in the
dog's experience had it known a man to sit like that in the snow and make no fire. As the
twilight drew on, its eager yearning for the fire mastered it, and with a great lifting and
shifting of forefeet, it whined softly, then flattened its ears down in anticipation of
being chidden by the man. But the man remained silent. Later, the dog whined loudly. And
still later it crept close to the man and caught the scent of death. This made the animal
bristle and back away. A little longer it delayed, howling under the stars that leaped and
danced and shone brightly in the cold sky. Then it turned and trotted up the trail in the
direction of the camp it knew, where were the other food-providers and fire-providers.
Tuesday, 2 December 2008
wistful eagerness
At last, when he could endure no more, he jerked his hands apart. The blazing matches fell
sizzling into the snow, but the birch bark was alight. He began laying dry grasses and the
tiniest twigs on the flame. He could not pick and choose, for he had to lift the fuel
between the heels of his hands. Small pieces of rotten wood and green moss clung to the
twigs, and he bit them off as well as he could with his teeth. He cherished the flame
carefully and awkwardly. It meant life, and it must not perish. The withdrawal of blood from
the surface of his body now made him begin to shiver, and he grew more awkward. A large
piece of green moss fell squarely on the little fire. He tried to poke it out with his
fingers, but his shivering frame made him poke too far and he disrupted the nucleus of the
little fire, the burning grasses and tiny twigs separating and scattering. He tried to poke
them together again, but in spite of the tenseness of the effort, his shivering got away
with him, and the twigs were hopelessly scattered. Each twig gushed a puff of smoke and went
out. The fire-provider had failed. As he looked apathetically about him, his eyes chanced on
the dog, sitting across the ruins of the fire from him, in the snow, making restless,
hunching movements, slightly lifting one forefoot and then the other, shifting its weight
back and forth on them with wistful eagerness.
sizzling into the snow, but the birch bark was alight. He began laying dry grasses and the
tiniest twigs on the flame. He could not pick and choose, for he had to lift the fuel
between the heels of his hands. Small pieces of rotten wood and green moss clung to the
twigs, and he bit them off as well as he could with his teeth. He cherished the flame
carefully and awkwardly. It meant life, and it must not perish. The withdrawal of blood from
the surface of his body now made him begin to shiver, and he grew more awkward. A large
piece of green moss fell squarely on the little fire. He tried to poke it out with his
fingers, but his shivering frame made him poke too far and he disrupted the nucleus of the
little fire, the burning grasses and tiny twigs separating and scattering. He tried to poke
them together again, but in spite of the tenseness of the effort, his shivering got away
with him, and the twigs were hopelessly scattered. Each twig gushed a puff of smoke and went
out. The fire-provider had failed. As he looked apathetically about him, his eyes chanced on
the dog, sitting across the ruins of the fire from him, in the snow, making restless,
hunching movements, slightly lifting one forefoot and then the other, shifting its weight
back and forth on them with wistful eagerness.
Monday, 1 December 2008
shooflies
Sti'Tumma had always wanted to have beautiful beaded "shooflies" attached to her saddle, on the breastplate and under the horse's tummy on the cinch. She had already made a couple for her favorite bridle! The shooflies were made from a small amount of horsehair being folded in half, wrapped with buckskin, and beadwork put over the buckskin. The shoofly would then be clipped onto the favorite spot selected by each rider. So when the horses had their tails cleaned, the hair was saved for Sti'Tumma who then went to work to make herself some beautiful and colorful shooflies. Sometimes Gilly, Sti'Tumma's sister, would do the beadwork on a dozen shooflies at a time for the trail guides. The shooflies would move with the horse and keep some of the flies from settling on the horse!
It was a beautiful Saturday morning and time to get ready to meet the scheduled trail riders at the lake for the 20-mile ride through the beautiful countryside. Her nephew and youngest brother saddled her horse while she went to select the shooflies to attach to her saddle today. Across the breastplate she clipped six, on the cinch she clipped two, and on the rear of the saddle she clipped two. She stood back to take a good look, and said to herself, "Today both Zoomer and I will look good!"
At the lake she stayed on horseback due to the pain she was feeling in her back and neck; getting off and on would only make it worse. Today she wanted to be able to complete the ride to show off all her hard work on the beautiful and colorful shooflies. By wearing her new ribbon shirt, she looked elegant upon that gorgeous horse with all the beadwork showing on the shooflies. She met the riders, gathered the riding fees, which were placed in the beaded bag tied tight to her saddle, and even had some pictures taken of her and Zoomer!
It was a beautiful Saturday morning and time to get ready to meet the scheduled trail riders at the lake for the 20-mile ride through the beautiful countryside. Her nephew and youngest brother saddled her horse while she went to select the shooflies to attach to her saddle today. Across the breastplate she clipped six, on the cinch she clipped two, and on the rear of the saddle she clipped two. She stood back to take a good look, and said to herself, "Today both Zoomer and I will look good!"
At the lake she stayed on horseback due to the pain she was feeling in her back and neck; getting off and on would only make it worse. Today she wanted to be able to complete the ride to show off all her hard work on the beautiful and colorful shooflies. By wearing her new ribbon shirt, she looked elegant upon that gorgeous horse with all the beadwork showing on the shooflies. She met the riders, gathered the riding fees, which were placed in the beaded bag tied tight to her saddle, and even had some pictures taken of her and Zoomer!
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