Some Changes

Perhaps you've noticed that lately I've been "ho-hum" about blogging.

At first I wanted a new name for my blog. For years it had been "Wanna
Buy a Duck" by Manzanita. The duck part had been kinda stupidly
whimsical and Manzanita was my stage name from my flamenco
dancing days.  Boring and more boring.  Add those two together and
you come up with "A Most Very Boring Blog." That would have been a
good name for it.

But I got rid of the name of the blog and fake name in one flat-fell
swoop. Belva Block (my own name) took care of both. So much for labels
BUT what about the cutesy weiwtsy boring blog content?

I gave it some long thought. Was a year long enough cause I'm ONE slow
thinker and finally came to the conclusion that my blog was a piece of
crap. It was so juvenile that I couldn't even stand to read it.  I now
thank all of the kind long-suffering people who stayed with me......"in
spite of. " Thank you, thank you, thank you.

My conclusion..........
I will write about what is of interest to ME and since I am often
labeled WEIRD,  it may be of NO absolute interest to anyone else.

What then?  Well it could become just my own little diary.
I must stop because my favorite radio talk show guy is on now.
Oh, that would be Mark Steyne.

Adios

PLEASE....No I'm sorry's

I still cry at the mention of my Cody dog so I really don't want to go there
again. I spent the greater part of the summer in deep mourning and I couldn't
stop crying. My 14 year old Aussie was my constant companion and every
thing was a reminder. I couldn't even drive my car or the old truck because
she had always been right there beside me.

Some of you will understand this deep feeling of loss for a dog and other's
may not. When one lives alone, a dog can replace the lack of human
companionship and this may sound odd but I really never realized it was
happening and suddenly that silent loneliness settled in.

I locked the gates and barricaded myself in my gardens and to add to my
tears, a passer-by asked me where my dog was and then recommended I
read "Racing in the Rain." I did and that was just an extention to my
mourning period.

No more dogs, I vowed.  I never want to go through this again. But then I
saw this litter of Aussie puppies.  NO, NO, NO...... not a  PUPPY.  They
bite, they chew, they pee, they cry..... all that training....absolutely "NO."

But my whole family supported me and we went "en masse" to pick up
Lily. Cute, cute, cute. Is there anything more adorable than a puppy?
She did all the above messy puppy stuff but now that she is going into
her 9th month, I can see the glimmer of the smart dog she will be.   Of
course I've always loved herding dogs and I'm prejudiced when I say
the smartest and already I can see "agility dog."

When I first brought that little thing home, I told myself I should return
her immediately because there was no love left in me. It wasn't fair to
someone that tiny ......and damn it...... now I'm really crying again.

BUT .....Lily needs me and I need her as that bond of love is growing
stronger every day.  And...it feels so good to be needed again.

Let's Remember

I used to sing a song about "Remembering Pearl Harbor' when I was
11 years. I do remember but I bet I may be nearly the only person who
remembers that particular Sunday morning.

     Let's remember Pearl Harbor as we go to meet the foe
     Let's remember Pearl Harbor as we do the Alamo
     We will always remember how they died for liberty
     Let's remember Pearl Harbor and go on to victory
     (drum roll as it was a kind of a marchine song)

Enough said about something that happened 75 years ago.  We have
other problems today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twice this week, while outdoors, I heard a chorus of honking
from up above. I just stood quietly in awe, watching the perfect
formations of flying geese. Canadian Honkers, I guess you would
call them, as several V formations darkened the space directly
above me. Ahh....so much joy in freedom of flight. There
is nothing more beautiful than flapping wings, seperated by
precise spacing.

I always wonder how they came to know how to do
this and who was the smart bird to invent the whole process.
This time I went in the house and looked it up online but I found
out that knowing the science behind it took away a bit of the
mystique.  I ran into words like down/up wash and drag force and
I really didn't need that much information.

It just seemed to detract from the wonderment of it all and I'm
happy with certain things remaining a mystery.

Patience

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)

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
soda.
    "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 spelling.....it 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

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???