Friday, August 26, 2011


No coffee can be good in the mouth that does not first send a sweet offering of odor to the nostrils.  ~Henry Ward Beecher

The dictinary describes the term percolate as the process to cause a liquid to pass through a porous body; filter, to permeate and brew.  Frankly, I do not care what the correct terms are, I am just thrilled each day to have a cup of it in my hands, and the aroma tantalizing my nostrils.  It really is one of the best parts of waking up.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

One Crazy Ride

Life is one big crazy ride....
 ...sometimes its fast and wild
and others it is a Sunday drive...
...but whatever rolls into your life
just don't let those moments pass you by.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

One Big Prayer,This Windmill,and A Dog Named Slick

The mills of the gods grind slowly, a wise greek once said, but God can turn things around quickly when a miracle is required.  Sometimes God's timing in our lives can seem like a slow moving train holding up traffic. It is never going to make a way for us to get through, but it does ,eventually, if we wait patiently.  Then ,there are those other times, when things happen fast, your heart skips a beat, and God moves quick as wind to make a way. This story is one of those kind of times.

I was about 11 years old with scragly hair and awkward limbs running around outside at my babysitter's house.  She was the wife of a true blue farmer.  They had everything a farm would be expected to have right down to the cow's milk, and overalls.  They were an older couple.  His name was Albert, and he spoke like no one I had ever known before.  Sometimes it was hard to understand him, but you always knew when he came in the door, cause he smelled just like cow manure.  For some reason I do not understand I called his wife Mrs. Schertz.  Her name was Odessa, but I never used it.  I just kept it formal, and that was what we were all used to.  They had never had any kids of their own, and keeping me had been a blessing for them as well as for me. You see my mom had passed away 2 years before, and Dad was having a hard time figuring out what to do with me when he was at work.  I guess I was an eccentric child right down to my polyester pants that rode at least 3 inches too high.  Kids would say I was ready for a flood, and I guess mentally in ways I was.  On this particular day,there was nothing that stood out, except maybe that it was exceptionally windy, and hot.  It was like sticking your head into a cake baking oven to see if its cooked.  It took your breath away at times.  Mrs. Schertz had a dog named slick that was kept on a chain and leash at the corner of the back yard.  He was an inexpensive, and effective alarm system they used to protect the house and property from strangers. He was a vicious thing, that barked and growled whenever he saw anyone including me.  I had never been closer to him than about 10 feet.  His chained leash kept him from me, and my strong fear kept me from him.  I had passed through the gate at the back of the yard to go to the farm area to bug the roosters, and just run around and find something to do.  I had frolicked about halfway to the barn when I heard a clang, and turned around to see ol'e slick stand at the open gate.  For a moment I was immobile, not so much frozen with fear, but in awe that he got loose.  The chain was still connected to him, but the chain had come loose from its connection at the fence.  Once I had processed in my mind what I had actually seen, my body decided to follow quickly behind.  I immediately ran to the barn, and closed all the openings. I yelled for Mrs. Schertz to find me, but she was in the house cleaning up the kitchen from lunch.  The longer I waited, the more frantic I felt, and soon I began to pray like I had never prayed before.  I asked God to save me from danger, and please open up Mrs. Schertz's ears so she would hear my cry in the barn. I prayed the biggest prayer I had ever uttered from my chapped lips. I prayed,and prayed, and prayed. When she finally called to me from outside the barn, it seemed as if it had been waiting for hours, but in reality, it had only been about half an hour.  "Girl what are ya doing locked up in hear?" she said, wiping her apron with the dirt and hay from her hands opening up the barn.  "Did you see slick? It was him, he got loose!" I said with fear chained to my throat. She looked at me with a grin that almost said more than her words, as she pointed in the dirrection of the windmill.  "Girl he might a gotten loose over yonder, but he sure ain't loose over there at that windmill!" I couldn't believe my eyes, as I rubbed them trying to dry up the tears.  There he sure was, right there trapped at the windmill.  His chain had gotten caught up at the pipes at the bottom.  At that very moment, in the midst of my own sigh of relief and hysteria, I knew I had seen it for sure.  Not slick all caught up in his own chain at the mill, but God.  I had seen what God can do. I had witnessed a miracle right there at the windmill, and ol'e slick's chain.

Also linking with Imperfect Prose with lovely Emily.