Holy Tornado

To see the soul of your comrade listen carefully to his music.

Monday, May 30, 2005

THE PAINTED LADY

When cutting the grass in my back yard earlier this spring, I left a patch of Dame's Rocket, which is considered an invasive weed by some. My sisters and I used to pick bouquets if this mildly fragrant wild flower for our Mother.
Last week we had some pretty warm temp's, and one afternoon when I took my puppy's out for a potty break, I noticed a large group of butterflies all over these flowers.
I managed to take several photos, even though the wings are a bit ragged you can still see the exquisite beauty of this dear little creation.
A hint: when photographing Butterflies, they will fly away when you approach, but if you stand still they will return within a few minutes. Move slowly and pray for the Lord to make them hold still.
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Butterflies are solar-powered! They need the sun to fly.

Male Painted Ladies have smaller abdomens than females.

Favorite butterfly flowers are aster, cosmos, thistle, and buttonbush.

Butterflies are diurnal (active during the day).

Painted Lady Butterflies see more patterns, a wider range of color, and more shades of green than people do.

The tiny scales attached to butterfly wings give the wings their color.

Butterflies have taste sensors on their legs.

The Painted Lady is probably the most widespread butterfly in the world.
It has a 2-week life span. During that time, its main goal is to reproduce and lay eggs so the cycle can begin again!

Thursday, May 26, 2005

ON MY SOAPBOX...AGAIN

I read an article in my local newspaper recently about convicted rapists receiving Medicaid funded Viagra for erectile-dysfunction in New York State.
Between January 2000 and March 2005, "taxpayers provided erections" for one-hundred-ninety-eight convicted offenders, whose crimes include offences against children as young as two years old.
Mary Kahn, spokeswoman for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services said, "Now that this has been brought to our attention we will certainly see what we can do administratively, if anything."
This report is only concerning Viagra. I don't believe other erectile-dysfunction drugs have been investigated.

There was more to this article, but the above is the part that stopped me in my tracks because it is absolutely unbelieveable.
A large majority of sex offenders refuse treatment (it's their right). Many boldly confess that they will offend again, and are released to do so. Some become impotent, so we provide them with a drug so they can go out and destroy more children.
You know what, this really ticks me off!

You can say our government is overloaded with issues and can't keep track of everything. I disagree. That's what they get paid billions to do.
Our children and babies should be a priority in every sense of the word. They are helpless today but will lead our country in the future. We owe them safety from predators at the very least. If a wild animal was about to destroy a child, I know what I'd do.

Offenders have been getting off too easy. Consequences for their crimes are not much more than a hand slap. They have no morals, and no mercy. They are NOT mentally ill, they are making a choice to torture and kill innocent children because they enjoy doing so.

We are fighting terrorists all over the world.
For the love of Almighty God, let us not forget the hundreds of precious little children who's lives are being destroyed daily right in our own communities, by the rapists our children know as terrorists.
We must take a stronger stand against this hateful act.
We must make the punishment fit the crime.

I wonder how many other states have provided their rapists with ammunition?
God save the children

Another side to this is the many law abiding citizens who cannot afford necessary medications and cannot get them through Medicade. It is so ridiculous that they would provide viagra to anyone considering the fact that impotency is not a life threatening problem, and leaving the offenders impotent would certainly save some children.
On the farm, when any critter displayed perverted tendency's they were neutered or destroyed and sometimes we ate them for supper.
Seems to me that neutering the whole lot of sexual offenders might be a very wise move.
If that doesn't stop them, there is another alternative.

Monday, May 23, 2005

I Have Been Tagged

Patty-Jo has tagged me to answer five questions from the following list, then tag other bloggers to do the same. Ok, Elson, and Sandy, "TAG, YOU'RE IT."
If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary
If I could be a chef...
If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an inn-keeper...
If I could be a professor....
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama-rider...
If I could be a bonnie pirate...
If I could be an astronaut...
If I could be a world famous blogger...
If I could be a justice on any one court in the world...
If I could be married to any current famous political figure...
If I could be an Office Supply Salesman...
If I could be a Dog-show judge...
If I could be a Coal Miner...
If I could be a baker...
If I could be a comedian...
If I could be a monk
If I could be a publisher...
If I could be a spy...
If I could be a greeting card designer....
If I could be a new parent....
If I could be a College Graduation Speaker...
If I could be an advisor to the Senate...

Here are my answers:
1. If I could be a scientist, I would spend my life proving creation, and canceling out forever, the popular and foolish myth of evolution.

2. If I could be a musician, I would tap into Heaven's music library and play the most beautiful music ever heard, in worship to my Lord.

3. If I could be a missionary... I guess I would do exactly what I dreamed of when I was a little girl. I would go to Africa, build a huge orphanage and take in every child, and feed and love them. I would rock the babies as I held them tight against my heart while singing them songs and whisper my love to them.

4. If I could be a pirate, I would be like Robinhood. I suppose I would be called, Mamahood. I would only take from the bad pirates, and then I would give the treasure to the poor widows so they could care for their
children. I would be sure they knew of our greatest treasure. Jesus Christ.

5. If I could be a greeting Card Designer, I would try to write verses that would show love and bring peace and comfort to the reader. I would also do lots of funny cards because we need to laugh more. It is good for body, soul & mind.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

The Wallflower

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This flower has been grown for many years. It is not as lovely looking as a rose but the fragrance is incredible! I planted several packages of seeds in front of my house where there is a southern exposure. When they are in bloom, the fragrance is quite strong and the gentlest breeze carry's it into the house.

The following bit of interesting trivia was gleaned from 'Tartan's.com'

"C. cheiri. Wallflower. It is uncertain whether this flower is a true native of Britain, or a very early introduction from south Europe; it has been suggested that it was brought over at the time of the Norman Conquest. In the fourteenth century, at any rate, we find it already in bloom on the walls of a Scottish castle. Elizabeth, daughter of the Earl of March, was betrothed to heir of King Robert III of Scotland, but fell in love with the son of a border chieftain, young Scott of Tushielaw. Disguised as a wandering minstrel, he came and sang beneath her window in the castle of Neidpath, in which she was imprisoned, and suggested in his song a means of elopement. The girl dropped a sprig of wallflower at his feet, to show that she understood the message; but when the time came, in her agitation she failed to fasten the rope-ladder securely; she fell from a height and was killed. Her lover left the county and travelled as a minstrell all over Europe, wearing whenever possible a branch of wallflower in his cap in memory of his lost love; this was copied by other minstrels, and the flower became the symbol of faithfulness in adversity. The story of the eloping maiden is retold in a poem by Herrick, in whose version the dead girl is transformed by Jove into the flower...

Bashful Little Caterpillar

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Does anyone know what kind of Caterpillar this is and what kind of moth/butterfly it will become?
It is about two inches long and can crawl pretty fast for something so small. The skin is a dull black color and seems to be protected by many circular tufts of curled hairs. On each side of this little wiggler, in front and back are a fan shaped grouping of black hairs resembling feathers.
This is really a pretty little critter and very intricately designed.
I tried to get a picture of it's funny little face but it hid.

Tuesday, May 17, 2005

Go Figure

Joe Smith started the day early having set his alarm clock (MADE IN JAPAN) for 6am.
While his coffeepot (MADE IN CHINA) was perking,
he shaved with his electric razor (MADE IN HONG KONG).
He put on a dress shirt (MADE IN SRI LANKA),
designer jeans (MADE IN SINGAPORE) and tennis shoes (MADE IN KOREA).
After cooking his breakfast in his new electric skillet (MADE IN INDIA)
he sat down with his calculator (MADE IN MEXICO) to see how much he
could spend today.
After setting his watch (MADE IN TAIWAN)
to the radio (MADE IN INDIA)
he got in his car (MADE IN GERMANY) and continued his search for a good paying AMERICAN JOB.
At the end of yet another discouraging and fruitless day, Joe decided to relax for a while. He put on
his sandals (MADE IN BRAZIL)
poured himself a glass of wine (MADE IN FRANCE) and turned on his TV
(MADE IN INDONESIA), and then wondered why he can't find a good paying job in AMERICA.....
author unknown

The above came to me today in an e-mail from a cousin. (Thanks Robin)

The Pollinator

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Der Bumblebee makin' der razzelberry.

Sunday, May 15, 2005

A LETTER FROM MOM

Dear son,
I am writing this slow because I know that you can't read fast.
We don't live where we did when you left. Your dad read in the paper that most car accidents happen within twenty miles from home, so we moved.
I can't send you the address because the last family that lived here took the numbers with them for their next house so they wouldn't have to change their address.

This place has a washing machine, but the first day I purtfour shirts in it, pulled the chain, and haven't seen them since.
It rained here only twice last week, three days the first time and four the second.

We got a bill from the funeral home, and it said that if we didn't make the last payment on grandma's funeral, up she comes.
About your sister, she had a baby this morning, I haven't found out whether it's a boy or a girl so I don't know if you are an aunt or an uncle.

Your uncle John fell in the whiskey vat. Some men tried to pull him out but he fought them off and drowned. We cremated him and he burned for three days.

Aunt Mabel in knitting you some socks. She would have sent them by now, but I told her you had grown another foot since she last saw you, so she had to knit another one.
Not much more news this time. Nothing much has happened.
Love, Mom


My Father Has A Paint Brush

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Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler

Tomorrow I am having a visitor from Seattle. I don't see my cousin often, but we were very close as children. Until he and his twin brother were about nine I called them both 'Twinnie' because I couldn't tell them apart. Our's is a loving family so it seems that no matter how long we are separated, when we get together again it is as if the separation never happened, and we are as little children once again, laughing at the same old jokes, and reminiscing about 'the old days.'

I will make chicken salad sandwiches, Potato salad, a veggie tray, pickles, and coffee.
For dessert I will make a Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler. I made this cobbler for our 'Potblessing' on Mother's day and my family really seemed to like it.
Here is my recipe, so you can try it too.

Mama's Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler
4 cups rhubarb cut in 1/2 inch pieces
3 or 4 cups strawberries cut in quarters
1 & 1/2 to 2 cups sugar (depending on how sweet you like it)
4 tablespoons corn starch
1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon red food coloring
Topping
1 yellow cake mix
2-3 eggs
1 1/4 cup water

Place the rhubarb in a large kettle with just enough water to cover. Simmer about five minutes until it just begins to tender. (don't over cook) Add, berries, and food coloring. Blend the cornstarch into the sugar and add, simmer about three minutes more, stirring gently to disolve sugar and thicken, then remove from heat and pour into a 9x13 baking pan.
Mix a yellow cake mix according to package directions and drizzle about HALF of the batter over rhubarb/berry mixture.
Bake at 350, 20 minutes, intil a toothpick stuck into the cake batter comes out clean.
This is nice with whipped or ice cream.

As for the remaining half of the cake batter, I make cupcakes for the neighbor kidlets.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

My Winding Road

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There is a long and winding road
High in the wooded hills,
Where deer graze silently in the trees
And a tinkling waterfall spills.

Nature's symphony, the only sound
Whispering softly in the breeze,
Embracing me oh so gently
Caressing the tall, majestic trees.

Small pebbles on the dusty road
Crunch softly as I stroll,
A spotted fawn watches trustingly,
From a fern enshrouded knoll.

The scent of wild blackberries,
Drifts through this woodsy place,
Buzzing bee's polinating blossoms
With accuracy and grace.

The peace and serenity in this place,
Quicken deep within my soul,
To the youthful years long gone past
When I once walked a winding road.







Friday, May 06, 2005

SOMEBODY'S MOTHER

The woman was old and ragged and gray,
And bent with the chill of the winter's day;
The street was wet with a recent snow,
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing, and waited long,
Alone, uncared for amid the throng
Of human beings who pass'd her by,
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.

Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of "school let out,"
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray
Hasten'd the children on their way,
Nor offer'd a helping hand to her
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir,
Lest the carriage wheels or the horse's feet,
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.

At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest laddie in all the group;
He paused beside her, and whispered low,
"I'll help you across if you wish to go."
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She place, and so, without hurt or harm,
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.

Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
"She's somebody's Mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow;
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my Mother, you understand,
If ever she's poor and old and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away."

And "somebody's mother" bow'd low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Was: "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son and pride and joy!"

by Mary Dow Brine


Happy Mother's Day Mama


My mom was born March 31, 1919. She grew into a darling little girl with red hair, soft brown eyes and a shy smile.
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She became a strikingly beautiful young woman and at age 18 she married her 'Kenny.'
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They had a very happy life together. They loved fishing, especially Steelhead, and they were very good at it. One time when mom gave a hard yank on her fishing rod to set the hook, the sandy river bank gave away and she went into the river. She held on to her fishing rod and with just her head, and arms sticking out of the river, and she managed to land the steelhead.
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Mom loved gardening and grew every kind of vegetable and berries. She made jams and jellys to put on her delicious homemade bread and buns. Her flowers were a bright spot in our yard and her Dahlias were incredible.
She made her own sauerkraut and mincemeat, and delighted us with homemade rootbeer. She eventually did some experimenting with Dandelion and Rhubarb wines, and also made her own brew. :)
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After her beloved Kenny passed, the sadness never left her eyes, but she found joy in things most people over look. One day she picked a bouquet of clover and was delighted with their beauty and fragrance. Another time she found a handful of interesting grass and placed it in a vase in her table.
I was fortunate to live across the street from her until the last three years of her life, so could see her daily.
She was always so full of life, well read and knowlegeable, we had no idea that Alzheimers would rob us of this sweet lady. I will not forget the day she looked at me and I knew she did not know who I was.
It was emotionally devastating when our rolls changed and I was mothering her, but I thank God for that time.
Eventually there was no recognition at all, just the blank stare. But I could make her laugh and it was her laugh that kept me strong. It was the one thing about her that did not change.
She lived with me the month of March in 2001. Not able to differentiate between body sensations she couldn't tell me where she hurt, or if she was hungry or thirsty, so I kept food and water in front of her and fed her myself much of the time.
One day my granddaugter came to visit with her children. Her oldest was three and always asked me to put lipstick on her. This day she asked her Great-Great Grandma if she wanted some too. Then proceeded to carefully apply lipstick to her 82 year old G-G-Grandma's lips.
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This is one of the last pictures I have of my mother. She left us on June 26, 2001, three months after this picture was taken.
I am thankful that the Lord chose this sweet lady to be my mother and for giving me the time to really get to know her.

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

WHAT IS IT?

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Can anyone guess what this pretty little blossom will be when it grows up?

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

REQUEST

One of our blog friends needs some cheering up. There are several issues in her life right now that are sucking the joy right out of her. So please get yourself over to Patty-Jo's and give her some cyber-hug encouragement. She'd do the same for you.
Prayers welcome.
While you are there, you might as well pin her guest map too. That would surely bring a smile to her face.
Thanks everyone

Monday, May 02, 2005

Tag Poem Meme


The American Warmonger has tagged me with this poetry meme.
I am supposed to write my own poem using his line, "a turd in the punch bowl' in the first and third lines of the first stanza of my poem. The rest is whatever my brain can come up with.

I am to tag three people to do the same.
So...Patty Jo, I know, I know you hate this stuff. Why don't you have Johnny help. It can be a sort of family project.
Miss Patriot, you can do it, I know you can! Ask mom for her input. You will have a blast.
And aimeebreanne. you are very talented in writing too.
Just have fun!
Let me know when you have posted your poem.

Here's my tag poem.

Odorous Poetry

A turd in a punch bowl,
That’s what he said,
A turd in the punch bowl,
Turned my face red.

I’ve been tagged to write a poem,
So I’ve tried to get inspired,
I’ve wracked my brain inside out,
But fear it has misfired.

All clever thoughts elude me,
Not one will come to rest,
The fear of utter failure,
Lies heavy in my breast.

I must please the Warmonger,
Of whom you all have heard,
He wrote about a punch bowl,
And a nasty little turd.

Well I don’t care for turdy punch,
So will change the gross effect,
And rhyme about the wind instead,
And it’s curious introspect.

We know not from whence it comes,
Nor from whence it goes,
We only know that in the bath,
Loud bubbles forth it blows.

So I suspect that in the punch,
If it were to obtain,
That punch would be be-bubbled,
The illusion of Champagne.

Oh what distasteful thing to do,
To trick your trusting drinkers,
Who think they have the best champagne,
But find it reeks of stinkers.

The Balance

This is not my usual type of post. It came in an e-mail today and made me chuckle. The name of Bruce Barker was at the bottom, presumably the author.

Once upon a time, God was missing for six days. Eventually, Michael, the Archangel, found him resting on the seventh day. He inquired of God "Where have you been?" God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction, and proudly pointed downward through the clouds, "Look, Michael. Look what I've made."Archangel Michael looked puzzled, and said, "What is it?" "It's a planet," replied God, "and I've put Life on it.

I'm going call it Earth, and it's going to be a great place of balance.""Balance?" inquired Michael, still confused. God explained, pointing to different parts of earth. "For example, Northern Europe will be a place of great opportunity and wealth, while Southern Europe is going to be poor. Over there I've placed a continent of white people, and over there is a continent of black people.""Balance in all things," God continued pointing to different countries.

"This one will be extremely hot, while this one will be very cold and covered in ice." The Archangel, impressed by God's work, then pointed to a land mass and said, "What's that one?""Ah,"said God "That's Washington State, the most glorious place on earth. There are beautiful streams, hills, and forests. The people from Washington State are going to be handsome, modest, intelligent and humorous, and they are going to be found traveling the world. They will be extremely sociable, hardworking, high achieving, and they will be known throughout the world as diplomats, and carriers of peace.

"Michael gasped in wonder and admiration, but then proclaimed, "What about balance, God? You said there would be balance."God smiled, "There is another Washington.
Wait til you see the idiots I put there!"

Sunday, May 01, 2005

Rubber Boa Snake

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This isn't a very good picture. It was taken back in 1980. This little snake was caught by my brother-in-law, who lived next door to me, as it was crawling into his daughter's room through a tiny opening in the woodwork.

This snake looks and feels like rubber. (No! I did not touch it.)
Growing 12 to 33 inches long with very small eyes and a blunt tail. It has a small head so unless you are close enough to see its eyes you can't tell one end from the other.
They are a shiny brown or greenish color with a lighter colored belly,
a burrowing reptile which usually forages near a water source.

After mating around May, they give live birth to as many as eight light tan or pinkish colored young in late fall.
They are nocturnal which is most likely why they are not often seen.
Their prey includes small rodents, salamanders, snakes and other small animals which they suffocate in their constricting coils. They are not poisonous, but then they don't have to be if they can 'scare' you to death.

I am just wondering if anyone else knows about Rubber Boas. Talk to me