My Blog List

Tuesday, June 14, 2016


Time, time, where art thou, Time
Wait for me, I'm in my prime

Time, time why go so slow
Look at me, I want to grow

Time, time, I'm old but wise
Wait for me, I want my surprise

We all have our own bugaboos starring us in the face. Is
patience supposed to be a virtue? Well, not with me. I
want it now, better yet, yesterday.  A daughter just
said to me, " Mom, you have to be patient." No, no
I want my Rome built in a day.

Did you ever decide in mid-sprin to build a small
fence? Lucky you, if you get it in during that same year.
Winter's frozen ground doesn't make for good fencing
so build fences in the summer, or not at all.  I believe
everyone in town is wanting a fence built right now.

It's just a tiny fence, one straight piece of fencing to
build a small corner dog run for people who visit and bring
their dogs. I've given the greater portion of the yard to the
chickens and I'm actually building country gardens around
the chickens. It's their's, all of it and no strange dogs allowed.

My idea of peace and tranquility has always been watching
an assortment of fat hens, scratching and pecking for bugs
in a garden of brilliant blooms. I do have that pastoral scene
so I will seek my patience there. (I hope)

Monday, May 2, 2016

I'm Back

Here I am, back with my 2nd post under the real me. Belva (Jane)
must be a difficult name to say because people were always giving
me nick-names.  Manzanita, Manzi, BJ, Bea Jay, hey you.  I went
along and didn't really care, but I want my real name on my obit.
My father-in-law called me "Velvet" all his life, thinking that was
my name.  I didn't mind because it kinda sounded like a stripper
and gave me an edge of the risque burlesque.

Most of you already know the great emphasis I place on food as
being a healer. I've noticed all the vids on YT that sing the praises
of healing almost "everything" with apple cider vinegar and baking
    "Holy Kamoly," I shouted out, "that was my grandfather's drink.'
 Every night, as far as I knew, he went out to the kitchen to have his
Brrrusha (roll the R. I don't know the was German).
As soon as I heard him, I'd pad bare-footed, out to the kitchen, in
my nightgown.

Fill a tall glass half-with water. Add about a tb. of A. C Vinegar and
a teeny bit of sugar.
Add a tsp. of B. Soda and stir. He'd stand over the sink because
it would fizz up over the glass and he'd drink fast. The best part, it
would involuntarily bring up one, two or three huge burps. He'd
always make a small one for me too. I can imagine the profile we
must have made against the
dim light of a kerosene lamp.  A slightly withered old man and
a toddler standing on a chair, each giving out loud belches, looking
at one another and laughing.

I'll bet you a buck that you can't drink a Brrusha, exactly as I
described, without ending it with burps.  Any takers? Don't be
afraid of it as it may do you some good. Grandpa lived to see
100. LOL

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Co-ink-e-dink or what?

It's spring (yay) and I'm working my butt off, making some major
changes in my yard.

Is there a direct link to spring, nature, faith and miracles? I don't
know. You be the judge.

Being a crusty old Broad,  I lost my faith long ago but recently,
after seeing the movie "Miracles from Heaven, I said I was going
 to believe in miracles again. When I told  friends I was going to
believe in miracles they laughed. Ha ha, big joke.

I couldn't lift the heavy hay bales that were the winter insulation
around the chicken coop so I was going to call a shelter, God's Love,
where there were usually some willing residents looking for a
quick job and a few bucks.

When I called, I asked if anyone there wanted some work. The
man on the phone said he would do some work. I told him I'd
pick him up because usually, these guys don't own cars. He said
he had his own transportation, address given, names exchanged
and he would be by in an hour.

 The young man was prompt, very presentable and articulate.
I showed him the small work project and he said, "We've never
had a call like your's before."  He began questioning me a little.

During that brief conversation, it turned out I had mistakenly
called Godfather's Pizza.  He was the supervisor, proud father
 of a new baby and looking to make some extra cash. He
was really bewildered why a lady would call Godfather's
Pizza for someone to move hay bales. Actually, so was I.

That mistaken phone call was beneficial for both of us.
uummm Miracle?????  Or just a clumsy dialer???