Stick Horse Cowgirls

          The holidays are fast approaching and I am not ready!  Mentally I am ready, but physically-- no way!  I don't even have a shopping list yet and there is so much cleaning to get done!  The decorating will be simple as we have some repairs going on, but that's okay.   "C" and I have taken a long break from posting.  We both lost our moms early this summer after they both had suffered declining health the past few years.  Still, as they say--it is true--you are never really ready to lose them.  This past year I have been retired from my job and in many ways that has helped.  "C" is busier than ever at her law practice and has just moved back into her home after a leak last January that flooded the entire downstairs of her house.  She has been somewhat of a refugee living nomadically with friends, in a hotel for almost 8 months while her home was being r...

  Today, (February 17) would have been my dad’s 92nd birthday.  I can hardly believe he’s been gone over 20 years.  Seems like yesterday I last heard his voice, saw his face.  Time assuages grief, but rarely a day goes by that I don’t think of something I would like to talk to him about.    He was reserved and shy to those he did not know well, but at home there was lots of conversation about so many things.  I suppose that is what I miss most.  Discussing books, politics, religion—so many things he was interested in.      He was born in 1922 to young parents who did not belong together.  His mother was loving and faithful, but his young father (barely 20 years old) was not up to fatherhood and left to seek employment in Utah.  He did not see his son until he was almost three years old.  There little interest shown and the resulting pain of indifference and broken promises.  I’ll never forget my d...

I heard a great sermon Sunday.  It was about the story of the rich, young ruler.  The point of the story, my pastor said, was not just about “rich” folks—it applies to us all.  We all have things we prioritize over God…even our “good works,” as the rich, young ruler had always meticulously obeyed the law. Pastor ramped up, driving home the point that we cannot tell where we stand solely by our actions—that good actions can often mask impure motivations.  It is not the “outward,” he says, that is telling.  It is the “inward.” And this, folks, is where I was jolted upright because what I heard is: “ What is important is the “N” word!  Do you have an ‘N-word’ problem?” And, through the rest of the sermon about our “ inward struggles,” I heard repeatedly: “N word,” although I knew well what he meant.   It was my ears. My consciences is clear:  I have no “N-word problem,” although it is probably evident that my “inward” regions could use ...

What is it about me that makes random folks just want to tell me their troubles?  Probably I ask for it.  I am very interested in people. You’d think, being a divorce lawyer for over thirty years, that I would become bored and jaded by human drama—not so!  I remain interested.  I hope it makes me good at my job. Anyway, my paralegal/sister and I were in the ATT store today doing some phone switcharooing.  The man helping us was a nice, late fortyish man who noticed my business name on the account.  He asked, “ what kind of law ?”  I told him. He had a story. This guy has an 18-year-old and a 15-year-old from his former marriage and of whom he has custody.  Then, there is the just-turned-six-year-old by his baby-mama.  He has a concern about the situation she is living in with her mother (he should be concerned,  from his description).  We talked about it just a few minutes. As he walked us to the door, he quipped, “ I re...

I love words.  As a part of that interest, I love to consider regional differences in language.  In my next life, I think I’ll be a linguist.  This morning brought a discussion/disagreement on this very topic.  Although I doubt it is a “regional” question in this particular usage, I find it interesting.  (Yes, I am easily amused) Son and I were riding in the car together.  We passed a lovely, two-story, square-log home that is on our regular route.  (V will know immediately the place I am talking about).   He commented on it, calling it a “log cabin.”  This is NOT an actual picture of the place, but is here for illustrative purposes (such as the size of the structure!) This is reminiscent of his father, who also made this mistake of nomenclature.    The house in question must be over 3,000 square feet—a “cabin” it’ ain’t.   The second picture on the page ain’t a “cabin,” either. I remarked on this, saying ...

I am a cynic about “true love,” doubting that it exists—at least in the sappy-movie sense.   The only “true love,” I sometimes say, is that of the Creator for His Creation. We humans are too fickle and self-serving to carry it off. And, yet, something has happened in our neighborhood that makes me re-think whether true love can be found here on this earth. There is a couple down the road from me (we’re in a rural area).   They are in the latter-half of their eighties and have lived out here all their lives.  We will call them “Mama” and “Daddy,” for that has been their main identity the vast majority of their lives. These are kind, warm people.  When my mother lived out here, they reached out to her in a kindness that she will never forget. Their Son was born with severe disabilities over sixty years ago and has never seen nor heard so far as can be told.  He has lived his life in a completely helpless state with no sign of recognition and few,...

I am a baby-boomer/sixties-to-eighties-rock-lovin’ old person.  I am sitting at the computer listening to my Pandora “Dire Straits” Station.  (I have an opera station, too, so don’t judge me too harshly). Along came the old Journey hit, “ Don’t Stop Believing .”  It made me think of a post— inspiration !  You just never know how the Muse will strike, right? Journey said: She Took the Midnight Train Goin’ Anywhere Wow . These lyrics made me think about advice I wish young women everywhere would heed.  It is advice borne of my longish life, tinged with sorrow now softened, and of my very-long work as a divorce lawyer.  Ahhhhh , if only they would listen to me. As I age I am learning the importance of living life intentionally…making conscious decisions about what I like, what I want from life, how I want to live it.  So many of us, women especially (hang with me, here), just drift through days, taking life’s midnight train to anywhere....