"The Writer"

There are unmarked letters,
An alphabet rides the water's edge of his mind.
Capturing the second of present and future,
Revealing the past.
There are riffles in the stream,
Past tears have been shed,
Holding the comfort searching for him
In the sunshine.
Events mark his finger tips,
The blank pages will absorb his words.
Everything speeds past his thoughts,
Some, to fast to catch.
Life holds the story of this mysterious realm.
This interior formlessness of time
Making the words of the writer,
His own.
They tell his tale,
To the unsupecting reader.
His written web is woven,
Pulled by the letters falling together,
Forming the recipe,
For another's mind.
The reader completes the author,
Kindred souls on a journey together.

By Cara Milnor 12/26/2007

"Wandering Star"

Christmas is over for 2007. We are up at 6am, sitting on the back porch of the cabin. The sparrows, blackcapped chickadees, doves and jays are busy at the feeders. It is almost too cold for us, but we stay anyway. The sky is clear and cloudless. We are just listening and observing the morning. Suddenly a small, dark, cloud appears in the Southern sky above the distant hills. At first we did not notice anything unusal about it, but, suddenly, we realized this cloud was shaped exactly like a star. There was a dark, gray star floating by us in the sky! Zounds! We ran for the binoculars to get a closer look. Sure enough it was a star. It drifted off to the East in the hands of the morning wind and disappeared. Call it what you will, Gypsy and I know it was a special message to all who saw it. There were many who followed a star at another time and place. It was a path that took them to the birth of Jesus Christ. This Christmas took our family there and we are thankful for all the blessings it brought with it. It was a cosy, warm Christmas day here in our little cabin in the woods. The Christmas trees were sparkling and Sarah's (daughter) Elvis Presley's CD was filling the rooms with music. The aroma of turkey, stuffing, sweet potatoes and apple pie filled the air. The sound of my 8 year old grandson's toys echoed around the cabin. What a gift this day gave to all of us. It promised that the future will be merry and bright, and the past will continue to hold sweet memories and lessons yet to be learned. We will busy ourselves with the moment. As the shadows of each new day entertwine with the silent thoughts that fill my head, my eyes watch the words appear on the computer screen. The words are messages from the sun, moon and stars. They are all of you. They are everything. They bring peace and joy. The stars will continue to drift by all of us throughout the new year. We will watch for them and look for their messages.

"life"

Although the details are sketchy,
I am sure I was born.
Not the first,
That was Janice.
Not the second,
That was Nedra.
What were they thinking?
My sisters?
My parents, of course,
Were thinking a boy would be nice?
Then I was born,
The third girl, but, almost a boy.
In those days they called me a tomboy,
Because I liked to do boy stuff.
Dolls were out,
Guns were in.
Worms were fun,
And dirt was good.
My sisters tried to make me disappear,
Especially when their boy friends came,
Probably to take them on a date.
I dropped a large tin of glasss marbles,
Down the cold air register.
They crashed to the floor downstairs,
Where they were.
I Also dropped a soaped string down that same register,
For them to try to get.
They never did.
Maybe if they were lucky,
I would appear in my pink ballet outfit,
And, of course, dance for them.
Mother get her out of here!
Next, I was going to dress our cat Butch,
In doll clothes and put him in the baby buggie.
Mother get her out of here!
Now, I am sure this type of behavior,
Was caused by a rough trip down,
The birth canal! That I remember well.
You say how can that be?
Wasn't it dark?
No.
The hospital lights hit me,
Like that ball rolling after Indiana Jones,
In "Raiders of the Lost Ark."
My eyes you see were first out,
Then the rest of me.
But what really made me mad,
Was that slap!
Did I really need that?
I don't think so.
I have overcome all of this,
And am approaching the other end of my life.
When I die,
And enter the death canal,
It will be a bright light as well.
Will I remember that?
Probably.
Will I write to you about it?
Probably. By, Cara Milnor 12/19/07

"Winter"

Good morning. Here comes the sun. Winter has come to our cabin in the woods. Burrrr! Gypsy and I are dealing with it best we can. I put on many layers of clothing and Gypsy gets covered with her favorite blanket while she sleeps. We like the cooler weather, but , sometimes it gets alittle too cold for us. We were greeted by a beautiful, clear too cold a morning to sit on the porch. I poured a pitcher of fresh water into her dish and as I turned to hurry back in the cabin something stired inside my memory of another time and place. I will think about this later and just be happy now to be back in the warm cabin. The fireplace held onto the warmth of yesterday's fire. The smell and sound of my expresso coffee maker on the stove got my attention, telling me to stop the morning chores and pay attention to the arrival of a new day. Gypsy barked with urgency telling me to hurry and open the door. She was very cold. Since it is cold, we will do our meditating inside the cabin, watching the fire in the fireplace, listening to our Christmas music and watching the blue and green lights and decorations sparkle on the Christmas tree standing in Grandmother Milnor's antique, copper, applebutter kettle. Wonderful memories come with this kettle. The kids first memories are of blue and green decorations on the Christmas tree. They object to any changes in this tradition. It is time for me to give thanks for all the wonderful memories filled by those who touched our lives in so many ways. This is music for my soul.
As the sunrise came, the clouds were orange with a dark, gray edge, surrounded by a very blue sky. It was crystal clear. The trees in the woods filtered the first sunlight with there lacey branches, filling our eyes with impressions that will be stored in our memories for another time. As the sun moved higher up the horizon, the light around it became a blinding, white, silvery glow, too bright to look at very long. The camera in my mind snapped this picture providing fuel for my mind. Some white clouds have drifted over the sun and softened the light that will lead us into another day.
The smell of wood burning in the cabin fireplace took me to another time and place. It reminded me of the Christmas Holiday's our family, Nick, Sarah, Daniel and John and I spent at our Tie Siding, Wyoming Ranch. Tie Siding was one store on highway 287, just south of Laramie. It housed a library, post office and grocery store. It marked the corner where we turned onto the Cherakee Park road that went to our ranch roads. The snows came early here at 8000ft where the Cherakee Park Road ended and the cattle guards that marked the beginning of the 5M (5Milnors) ranch roads began. The first ranch road was to our good friend's Juan and Joni's house. The second ranch road went to our log house. Often when we arrived the pinon and ponderosa pine trees and the mountains were covered with a fresh, white snow. Sometimes the drifts were so deep we could not open the doors to the house. Animal tracks made snowflake like patterns in the snow. During the day the sky was blue mingled with white, fluffy clouds. The wind whistled around corners and windows and through the trees. At night the landscape took on a blue color as the moon brushed it's light over the snow. This was a magical light. It created a winter wonderland.
There were fires burning in the fireplaces as the kids were bundling up to go sledding and ride the snow mobiles. There tracks joining the animal tracks for their adventures in the snow. We had decorated a Christmas tree and wrapped gifts. All was well. Just to be at a place like this was a gift to our family. We realize where we are now is a small version of the Wyoming ranch. The memory called me back until I found this cabin in the woods. I count my blessings from the past and look to the blessings of the present. There are many.
The gifts are hidden where wandering eyes cannot find them. The Christmas music is playing softly as it finds and winds around the Christmas decorations you so carefully placed around your house. You have been thinking about what gifts to get for all the special people in your life and are wondering when you will have time to shop for them. You think about Baby Jesus and His journey. You think about your journey and all those whoe shadow crossed your path. What a great time of the year to remember old friends and be thankful for new ones. Blessings fall on us like raindrops from heaven. All we have to do is close are unbrellas.

Misc.

Spend your time and money at the organic grocery store, not, at the doctor's office.
It is a warm, December, Sunday at the cabin. There was a huge buck at the feeding area this morning looking for a meal. He was very wary. It is hunting season here at the cabin and these boys know it. Sort of like downtown.
I have been watching Gypsy watch a squirrel on the squirrel tree where the feeder hangs. Her passion. She has been on point for a long time. The squirrel is very entertaining, keeping us spellbound with it's antics. Time well spent. Not at all like watching television.
Since moving to the cabin I have learned the meaning of a good night's sleep. It is dark and quiet. Not at all like taking sleeping pills.
When I look out my window I see no people, houses, tall buildings or cars. I don't hear them either. It is not like the city.
The city offers many wonderful things and deserves a visit now and then.
The squirrel is gone and so am I.

"Words"

"Words" By Cara Milnor

the words surround us
pulling us into them
weaving mind tapestry
capturing us like a prisoner
holding us in wonder
a writers love affair with you
who choose to read his words
forming an endless string
that twists and turns
completely entwining us
the reader completing
the writer searching
for the last word

Wind

Today is the first day of December and our first, first day of December at the cabin. The wind played us it's song all night long as it whistled through the windows we opened to catch the wind's gift, the breeze. As we layed in bed we wondered what the wind would bring to the woods for us. It was a damp, muggy breeze as a front had gone through leaving it's clouds and a misting drizzle for us to discover as we awoke to start our morning chores. Gypsy reminded me of the most important chore as she crawled out of her pink, sheepskin lined dog bed, that rests on the navy, blue leather sofa she owns. Hide the dog biscuits on the backporch and in the cabin. This was done as soon as I had my morning pot of expresso brewing on the stove. The temperature is almost seventy degrees, so Gypsy and I spent time on the backporch. We watched the woods as the curtain went up and the performance began. As the sun came up above a heavy layer of gray clouds, it cast a pink glow over the woods and sky, our stage. The trees and the tall, pink grass did their dances, directed by the wind. The moving clouds had picked up just a hint of the pink sunrise providing the perfect backdrop for this scene. The sound of the wind was the orchestra for this beautiful production. The harp and flute Christmas music we had playing wrapped it's notes through the fingers of the wind. It took our breath away. Surely this was our first Christmas gift directly from God's theatre. We hope we have sent it on to you. Gypsy and I were content to sit backstage and watch this performance. God has given us this time. We know how lucky we are to be here. We give thanks for all of you and our many blessings.

"Bad Guy!"

A couple of nights ago as I sat down on the edge of my bed to take off my slippers, I felt something crawling on my left ankle. As I looked down at my ankle I saw a scorpion making his way up my leg. Just where does he think he is going? I took my left hand and swished him off as fast as I could. Nothing to ponder here. Don't want a bite from that guy. Then, I discovered I had no idea where that swish landed him. What pursued was a search of most of the room, inclucing my bedding. This is not good just before you are ready to put your head on your pillow for a GOOD night's sleep. However, this is his territory and I am the visitor. I didn't find him , but, one of the glue traps I put down caught him as he wandered the floor around edges of my room in the dark of the night. Sometimes it isn't hard to recognize a bad guy. When they have a tail with a venomous sting, they are a bad guy. Gypsy missed this adventure. She was asleep on the navy blue leather sofa in the living room in the new pink, sheepskin lined dog bed I just purchased for her. I don't know maybe, I should try the pink sheepskin and let Gypsy have my bed. So it goes, here at the cabin, where we are wiling away our days pondering the events great and small of our life in the Texas Hill Country. News from the cabin gang minus one scorpion.

"Buried Alive?"

Shortly after Gypsy, my English Pointer dog and I moved to the cabin, a few feral cats began to apppear at our front door. You might ask," How do you know they are feral cats?" Easy, they walk with their tails down. We thought a few of these beautiful cats would be a good idea to keep unwanted critters at bay. So, we put some food out on the front porch for them. There was a good bit of nose to nose hissing until we put a dish of food out for each cat. We are learning. They had to be happy with dog food at first because that was all we had. They ate it like there was no tomorrow. We named one cat Butchie Bull's Eye because he had a bull's eye on his side. Not a good thing since he lives here in the center of a hunting area. My daughter named one cat Half and Half because he is half white and half gray. We named another cat Bobbed Tail Boss, because she turned out to be the boss of all the cats. She was also the mother of two beautiful kittens. One was a bobbed tail. Several other cats have tried to move in here, but, to no avail. Bobbed Tailed Boss said no and the food supply said no. The food supply normally determines the number of feral cats you will have. Gypsy and I and Bobbed Tailed Boss felt six cats were enough for us.
So, on with my story. I soon discovered the kittens liked to crawl into the interior recesses of my car. So, before I could start my engine I had to honk the horn, jingle my keys above the four wheel wells and open the hood to check for hidden kittens. When I started to back up, I would do so in short bursts to give any stragglers a final chance to get away. Well, you may have guess it. One day as I was getting ready to go to town, little bobbed tail kitty did't make it out of some recess of my car in time. As I was constantly checking, I found her dying by the back tire of my car. I was extremely upset and was not at all sure I could go to town. However, after contemplating the situation throughly I decided to bury the bobbed tail kitten and go to town. Because the ground around the cabin is mostly rock, I could not get the shovel in the ground for a proper buriel. Then I spotted my cedar compost pile. I could bury the cat there. So, I carefully picked up the kitten and wrapped in in a soft cloth. I then dug a small hole in my compost pile and buried the kitten. I cried on the way to town, but, felt I had done all I could to protect the cats. This was a sad beginning to an otherwise lovely day at the cabin.
Several days later my eight year old grandson Kody came to the cabin for a visit. I told him the story of the little, bobbed tailed kitten. He said,"Grandma, can we go check on the kitten?" I reminded him the the kitten was dead and buried. He said he did't care, he still wanted to check. I said,"OK." We went to the pump house to get a shovel and headed towards the cedar compost pile. I put the shovel in the compost exactly where I had buried the kitten. Once, twice I turned the compost with the shovel. No kitten. Kody and I pondered this situation. He said,"Maybe, Grandma the kitten wasn"t dead when you buried it." Oh my! I decided it would have had no problem getting out of the compost pile if it was still alive. That was a definite possibility. Had I buried a kitten alive? This would definitely be a first. Then, we decided some critter might have come in the dark of the night and snatched the little kitten from her grave. We then decided we would probably never know for sure what happened to the kitten. We decided that life is like that. We are reminded life is fragile, and we must be content in each moment of everyday. We don't always have answers to some of the situations life throws at us, but, we do know that after the situation is pondered for a time, it is best to go out and take on the day.
The West wind has come to the woods today telling us a change is coming. Gypsy went back to bed and I went to my writing desk to write. The morning glories on the fence outside the cabin window next to my desk are dancing in the wind. They are cold. The hummimgbirds have gone to a warmer place. Winter is coming to the Texas Hill Country. We like the cooler days. We don't know what the Winter will bring to us and the woods, but, we will ponder it and go out and take on the day.

" Listening and Looking"

One day this week we stopped our car to watch a black and brown tarantula continue his journey across our gravel road. Why does a tarantula cross the road? Perhaps he was on his way home after visiting the tarantula that lives near our back porch. They are gentle, beautiful creatures that share and belong in our beautiful woods. They are welcome here with Gypsy and me.
Early one morning while Gypsy and I were wiling away the day on our back porch, we spotted a small spider who seemed to be suspended in midair. He was surrounded by trees and was busy making a web that we could not see. It was a long distence from the spider to any tree, yet he continued his task. Would his breakfast consist of some unsuspecting creature that became entangled in his web? Would a bird see the spider and have a midair, midmorning snack? Would a branch fall from our newly trimmed trees and break the spider web into tiny pieces rendering it useless? Questions of the day, only the woods can answer.
One of our feral cats persists in roaming the area inside Gypsy's 5ft. cedar post rabbit fence. When we open the back cabin door at 6am, we give it a quick couple of gentle slams to warn all who might be foolish enough to enter Gypsy's area during the quiet hours of the night. Get out while you can! In the morning she goes out to reclaim her territory from any creature who might still linger there. She very nearly got one of the ferel cats. She was shaking it like a rag doll. Not good. I threw a pan of water on her which was intended for her dish and it distracted her long enough for the cat to get up a tree. I was very concerned about the cat. Would it live to return for another bout or die and fall out of the tree? The cat was ok. It recovered after spending time up in the tree after I put Gypsy in the house. It has not returned. Lesson learned.
It may be I have one of the nine lives of those feral cats. I put some chops on my gas grill to cook and when I returned to check them I saw the heat regulating knobs on the front of the grill melting like water running down a water fall. I saw flames comimg out the front of the grill. Zounds! This was a first for me, and might have been my last. Thinking as fast as a 69 year old can, I reached down and turned off the gas. One of the men who were here at this time trimming my trees came to help. He checked out the grill. The hose from the gas tank to the knobs had deteriorated and was burning the gas intended for the burner. He said it was a good thing I came out when I did, since the tank could have exploded. Not a good thing! He snipped one of the grates and hemmed and hawed and told me I could now burn charcoal in the grill. Seemed like a good idea to me. Thank you Jeff.
The wind whistling through the Texas cabin windows sounds the same as the wind whistling through the Wyoming log home windows. The wind here last night reminded me of the sounds I heard while staying there. Sometimes the woods not only sounds like Wyoming, but, it smells like Wyoming. Have you ever counted how many times a smell reminds you of a lost memory? Happens alot as you get older and is a joyful experience most of the time. You know Fall is here at the cabin, when the cool wind blows all night and the red oaks change the color of their leaves to paint a new face on the woods. Everything is changing in the woods and since this is our first Fall season here, we don't want to miss anything. There is one exception. I wouldn't mind having missed the poison ivy that is making my right wrist itch. Bad stuff! .
It is good to lay aside the tasks of the day and listen to the wind in the woods. The wind and the woods will not wait. They call to me as I listen to the sound of the wind making the trees talk. They call to me as I sit by the open window next to my desk and feel the soft, cool breeze cover my arms and face and whisper in my ears. They tell me to count my blessings and be thankful for friends near and far, neighbors and family. They tell me not to worry and complain and critize. They tell me not to be angry. They tell me not to judge and to be kind to all living creatures. They tell me to walk softly, rest easy, be at peace and listen.

"O, my luve's like a red, red rose" Robert Burns

Sunday morning Gypsy and I noticed a beautiful, large red rose blooming on the Don Juan rose bush located on the corner of her five foot high, cedar post rabbit fence. We thought it might need to be watered since our frequent rains have ceased. First, we watered our small Angel Patch flower garden, which is close to the back porch of the cabin. Gypsy's fence is seventy feet by fifty feet and attaches to the cabin, hence, completely surrounding the garden. When we go to water the rose bush, we always watch for Teddy, our resident tarantula. He lives somewhere in a dark hole, under the beautiful grass that is near the roses. We can't reach the bush with the hose,so,we water it with our old, green sprinkling can. When we were slowly pouring the water around the base of the bush, we remembered how roses you purchase from the the florist seldom have the sweet fragrance of the ones we grow at home. So, I reached for the large, red Don Juan rose to check and see if this was true. Well, guess what happened? A teeny, tiny white spider dropped out of the rose clinging to it's four inch long web. Gypsy and I said hello and welcomed it to our woods. We proceeded to try to get our nose close enough to the rose to smell it's by now much anticipated fragrance, when another teeny, tiny spider appeared. They watched us closely. So far, we have not partaken of the rose's aroma. We welcomed this spider as well and finally got to smell the rose. The scent was heavenly. Like nothing else. We smelled it again. As the sweet aroma filled our senses, we began to focus on the spiders.
Perhaps, this rose is home to Rose and Robert spider. Perhaps, they met on the fence near the Don Juan rose bush and fell in love. As they looked for a place to set to house keeping, they found this beautiful rose. The petals were soft and they smelled good. And someone was keeping it watered. Perfect! They were content in their home until Gypsy and I showed up to water. We were sorry we disturbed them. We finished watering and quietly watched Rose and Robert crawl back into their perfect red rose. We wondered if they would live like a gypsy moving from rose to rose. Whatever their decision, for now they are happy living in and loving their red, red rose. Gypsy and I have found our red, red rose in the cabin here in the woods. We count our many blessings.

Webs and Spiders

As the sun came through the webs that had woven themselves between the tree branches during the night, it looked like shimmering, silver, silk threads had found their way from tree branch to tree branch. It looked like rivers of liquid, silver, light connecting the woods to itself. As the breeze moved through the trees it looked like floodlights moving the light in all directions. It was beautiful.
As Gypsy and I were enjoying this spectacle, the ugliest spider we have ever seen came to visit. We have named him Fred. He and several other spiders live on our back porch. As I was sitting on my rocking chair enjoying my expresso, he dropped down, attached to his web and stopped next to my left ear. He can make six feet of web in three sceonds. Amazing. Gypsy and I wondered what he was going to do. Well guess what? He whispered a message into my left ear. He revealed to me the meaning of life. Everyone wants to know this. People have speculated about it since the beginning of time. No one seems to be perfectly satisfied with the explanations so far. What do you think Fred said? "Weave the threads of your life like the webs of the woods connecting them with love. Even us ugly spiders deserve to be loved. It is not the outside of us that is important, it is what is on the inside." Take time to go alone to yourself and see if you can discover what is there. Or come to the cabin and see if an ugly spider named Fred will drop down by your left ear and tell you. Time to go and see what the day will bring. It looks like it will be a beautiful day here at the cabin.
The cats on the front porch brought me a gecko today. Dead of course. They need to listen to the ugly spider. Cara and Gypsy

Fog and Clouds

The ground fog came quietly to the hills around the cabin, as the first rays of sun light found their way to the floor of the woods. Eventually, Gypsy and I saw only the tops of the woods covered hills that surround our cabin. As we watched the fog silently move closer and closer to the little gravel road that winds around the front of the cabin, we were reminded how many things in our lives come to us in the same way. The good, the bad and the ugly drift into our lives so quietly, that sometimes we don't notice. This is the traffic of our lives, moving to engulf us even as we sleep. If we don't keep focused on our blessings, we can get lost in the briars and brambles of the interstate highways.
During the few minutes I have been writing, I observed through the window by my desk, the day completely changing. We had to go back outside to discover exactly what had taken place. The sun had disappeared behind a layer of clouds taking all the fog with it. The woods and it's critters were silent. The clouds seemed to have soaked up all the sounds of the hills. We listened and watched to be sure. Finally, I came back inside to continue to write, while Gypsy stayed on the back porch to chew on a bone.
Life is like walking through the thick brush of the woods. As your feet move forward with every step, now and then you stumble when a vine catches the toe of your boot. You catch yourself just before you fall. Sometimes you get turned around and find yourself lost. There is a path through the woods and you eventually see it. The woods has a plan and so does your life. When the quiet time comes to you again and you are left with just yourself, you will see your plan. The blueprints will be all the blessings of your entire life and the reward will be the joy, peace and love of the rest of your life living in the rays of God's grace. Love is the most important, for without it the soul will not flourish. It is when your mind is still that your soul gets going.
Most of us have found our homes here on Earth, and realize they must be a haven of peace and happiness. They must be a blessing. As we lay claim to them, we realize as vital as they are, they aren't ours. They are worldly and temporary, but, necessary for this part of the plan. They are just on loan to us as we pass through. There is more to come. We have only seen the previews. The fog and clouds will part and disappear, and your path will be clear. If you are lucky it already is.
Gypsy is calling me from the porch. She is recreating one of her rare barking episodes. She is desperate. She wants in to take her morning nap on the navy, leather sofa that she has entirely taken as hers.
We will continue our search for all that life has, and be happy in the fog and clouds that sometimes surround us.
Today, we pray that the lost, male, cardinal that mistakenly found his way into our garage, will find his way out to the woods and freedom. Life goes on at the cabin. Praise God for His Blessings.

Steven

Steven built his large, round web on the chain of my swing on the back porch last night. Steven is a rather large Argiope Garden Spider from Houston. He is welcome here at the cabin. He is magnificent, and so is his web. I am running out of places to sit and meditate in the mornings on the back porch. The critters are comming to meditate with me. They are all God,s creatures as are we. From the cabin

Visitors

There was a Praying Mantis on my chair on the back porch this morning, so, I sat somewhere else.

Stillness

There is stillness to be found. This morning we found it in our woods. As Gypsy and I greeted the first light of the day, we observed the stillness was everwhere we looked and listened in the woods. There was not a breath of air moving even the smallest leaf or blade of grass. No birds could be heard singing. No whispers of the wind in the tree found our ears. The stillness crept over the back porch and surrounded us. We waited and listened. We knew it could not last.
Gypsy focused on the feeding area, knowing some creature would eventually appear. I pondered all aspects of this mysterious, elusive stillness. I wondered if I could transfer this peacefulness into my mind and body and let it come to rest in my soul? I focused on the first golden, orange, pinkish rays of the sun as they speckled their light over the grass and trees. The clouds caught the rays and turned a beautiful, soft pink color. The trees provided an intricate, black, lacey pattern to look through at the beautiful morning sky. There is a calming, peaceful feeling that comes with this stillness. It is surely food for the soul.
A hummimgbird and a butterfly just came to the morning glories outside the window where I write. The hummimgbird stopped to say hello. A breeze has come, making the morning glories dance. We are reminded the day is changing and we are lucky to have had this chance to feel the stillness. It just comes like the fog on a misty morning and leaves on the wings of a hummimgbird.
The black, brown and yellow butterflies we saw on our walk this morning were beautiful. We stopped several times, just to watch them eat some delightful morsel provided for them by a small, mud puddle on our gravel road. Gypsy walked in the spring where it crosses our road and got a drink. She always shakes when she is standing in the spring. We dont't know why, because only her feet get wet. We watched minnows swim. We thought the sun was promising us a hot day as we walked back up the hill to the cabin. All in all a good morning. We are grateful for mornings like these. The cabin gang.

Tsunami or Earthquake?

September 2,2007 at 7:15am a strange bird landed in a tree near the cabin while I was on my swing on the back porch meditating. What bird was this? It was the color of extra creamy, homemade vanilla ice cream, with a black ring around it's neck. It was beautiful. After much contemplating, I decided it was some kind of dove. I thought it strange that after hunting doves in South Texas for some twenty years, I had never seen a dove like this. After a finale observation with my binoculars, I looked it up in my bird book. Low and behold it was a dove, a Ringed Turtle Dove. Reading further, I discovered it's an escapee who's habitat is Los Angeles, California. I must admit, I thought it looked tired as it nestled it's head in it's breast and took a nap. Well now, what was this dove doing here in the Texas Hill Country? Perhaps an omen, or was it just following all the other californians who are relocating in Texas. My daughter Sarah was here for the Labor Day weekend, so we discussed the significance of the bird's arrival. Why had a Ringed Necked Dove migrated with some haste to our cabin? Why was this bird forced to make a fast get-away? Obviously, the only conclusion to be reached was that as animals leave the area where they normally live, disasters arrive. California being on the Pacific Ocean makes it vunerable to Tsunamis. We also all know they have had many earthquakes. Hence our conclusion. If the fires have not moved the birds, perhaps a tsunami or earthquake is imminent. We know animals leave as fast as they can before these catastrophic events. We called my son Dan in California and related this story to him. We also told him about our conclusions. All was quiet in Californis at this time except for the fires. Sarah remained at the cabin while had breakfast with a friend at the Bowling Club at a nearby town. Much to my surprise when I got home, Sarah said Dan had called and had just felt the unusual movement of his house during yet another earthquake! Oh My! What now? The arrival of a dove means many things here at the cabin. The dove that flew into my front window, broke it's neck and died was comsumed for dinner that evening. Yum. Yum. What will tomarrow bring here at tha cabin? I can hardly wait? Such is life at the cabin. Cara and Cabin Gang minus one dove.

Pursue Your Passion

Pursue your passion and you will run into your purpose. We are not necessarily discontent with our situation in life, but, we know there is more. Something keeps probing our thoughts and pushing us on. But on to what? We meditate, listen, watch and read continuing our search. Is our purpose to be on a small everyday level or are we to move our purpose into the world? We know we do not want to be part of the problem that takes the spiritual side of people further away from them. We want people to spend time meditating to search themselves for the their spiritual side which will provide them with answers. They know there is more in this life and they are missing it. Even though they know they are successful in the eyes of the world, they know there is more. If you are in a tailspin all the time, you will have problems finding time to develope your spirit. Do you race away your days running with no let up in sight? Take a breath and look at what you are doing. Are you running as fast as you can? Do you feel you are so stressed out you are not really affective with your accompolishments? We have all been there and if we are fortunate have moved on to a better plan. The Bible says to find a quiet place to commune with God. The place is important. God created the place before he created us. If going home for you is only more stress, change circumstances to make home a haven. Take time to be quiet with yourself and feed your spirit with your blessings. Let your family join you in becomming a searcher. Let them do their oun searching. Their plan may be different than yours. Searchers are tolerant, helpful, and full of mercy, peace and love. They celebrate our differences pertaining to all things. They are not judgmental. They leave this to a greater power. They know that love is the single most important ingredient for the spirit. They try to break the hold of the need for worldly ideas and things. The material world is hard to leave. What we need physically and spiritually are very different things. Our minds continue to be involved it the world of wordly things. When we die these worldly things will all be left behind. They are all temporary. We come to the world with nothing material and we leave the world with nothing material. Why then do we spend our lives acquiring material goods? I did because I didn"t know any better. I did not see the bigger picture of life. I did not see the plan for my life. I had to come to the cabin, to take the time to see. I was instructed to go someplace remote and quiet. The Bible says, find a quiet place to commune. It was not easy. Several times I almost ended up closed in by civilization, but, it never worked out. I decided to do what God told me and it has made all the difference. Having come to this remote cabin, I have seen my life's plan. I know my entire life has prepared me for this place. I was always too busy with the worldly things to see it. Now, I am searching for where I am to go from here. I am looking for plans in others lives. I sit on my swing on the back porch each morning and meditate. During this time I commune with the woods and all of God's creatures. Where is my place here? Take time to listen. Take time to respond. Take Time. As my spiritual soul grows rich with faith, my worldly mind diminishes the need for what it offers. Search to be truely content to the very end of yourself. You will know if you aren't where God wants you. Love yourself and all others. I love God for this beautiful place He created for us. He surely wants us to be joyful and content here. See beyond the gridlock of the world He did not create. Give thanks for your blessings, don't be afraid and don't worry. Be patient. Expect a miracle. Live in the rays of God's grace. My search continues. The Cabin Angels

Hands of a Farmer

Today when I looked down at my hands I thought they looked like hands of a farmer. As I was growing up in Wauseon, Ohio I spent alot of time on my Uncle Ed's farm. Uncle Ed had a huge farm at Tedro, Ohio. My two older sisters Janny and Neddy and I use to go and play in the old, red, wooden barn. We would climb the wooden ladder to a loft and jump down into the haymow. When we were outside, we would play hide and go seek between the miles and miles of six foot high, bright green stalks of corn. The edges of the leaves on the corn were so sharp, they could cut you. When our cousins were there, they would play with us. There was a big wind mill near the barn with a pump hooked to it. As the wind blew and turned the wind mill the pump would pump water for the coldest drink you have ever had. So cold it would make your teeth ache. When you went into the farm house, Aunt Grace had tables of baked goods waiting for you. It smelled so good. There were pies and angel food cakes made from scratch. Dough that was rooled flat waiting to became noodles. Fresh bread and cookies were to be found there as well. While we munched on a cookie we would play the handmade wooden marble game. It had a box on the top where you put the marbles before they went down the shoot that went back and forth and back and forth to the bottom, where the marbles were caught, so you could do it again. This game was about three feet tall and four feet wide. We loved it. It was fun to go there. When I was ten years old, Aunt Grace baked me a three tiered, angel food birthday cake. She put it on a round mirror and decorated it. I remember it well, because, it was so beautiful and it was the only birthday cake I ever had.
I remember well what my Uncle Ed's hands looked like. They looked like hands that had done alot of work. The palm was wide, giving plenty of room for his long, wide, strong fingers. I wondered what stories they would tell, if they could talk. They were interesting and capable looking.
The hands of this family goes back to Schaffausen, Switzerland. They came to this country to find a good place to farm. It was 40 days on a ship and many weeks in the wilderness to find their land. They settled at Elmira, Ohio. They had a big farm where they raised their nine children. Six of these children were my uncles. My mom was one of the three girls. Uncle Jim died in China of smallpox. He was vaccinated before he took his family and went there. My mom was a school teacher in a one room school house in Archbold, Ohio. The rest of the children lived nearby. Many of these Spenglers are buried on Lauber Hill. A small grave yard and church on a hill, near Elmira, Ohio. The Laubers were another family that came from Schaffhausen at about this same time.
When our children were in high school, I took two of them to visit Schaffausen. We went to the courthouse to read the names of our family in their book of records. We saw the beautiful Swiss farms with the house, barn and compost pile all in one structure. The compost pile was as big as a single car garage. There would be someone standing on top of it, turning the steaming compost with a pitch fork. As beautiful as this was, it lacked the miles of flat farm land Ohio provided. This is what my hands reminded me of today when I was sitting on my back porch swing at dawn. I have the hands of a farmer. They reach all the way back to my ancestors in Schaffausen. This is the richness of life my family has been fortunate enough to inherit. Gott sei dank. God be thanked. Cara and Gypsy

One Value of a Variable

Do we really exist? Perhaps we are just an illusion. Does anything we see exist? Is anything permanent? If the illusions are real, are any permanent in a material form. If the Earth disintegtated today, what reality would be released? What energy would survive? Would it be positive? If there were particles released, what story would they tell? Is everyday life only an illusion behind which lies the reality of dreams. Dreams are what? Visions are what? One you have while sleeping and the other while you are awake. What is consciousness? If it is an awareness within us, what is unconsciousness? The same? No. What holds onto our existence when we are unconscious? Why? What exists outside of this psychic sphere? The brain exists in a conscious and unconscious state and dies with the body. It deals with knowledge. It cannot discern truth from lies concerning all things. How is truth determined? How can conclusions be drawn and by whom? Why do some seem not to have a conscience? There is a reality somewhere in the human being that determines his conscience. Really? What reality is needed? Where does it come from? Can we buy a pound at the store?
How much information is transmitted from person to person unknowingly? What determines the aura? Will you know if you touch someone's aura. Can you see it? If you walk into a dark room, could you sense another person? Could you see their aura? Can you learn to see auras? If you could not see them might you smell them or touch them? What is taste? What does it mean? Is it present when you are born? What does a baby bring into the world? When you die what do you take with you? How much of our psyche is disturbed by the influence of our environment as we grow up? How damaged are we? Why didn't God make us so we could't go wrong? Surely He knew we would. Temptation is strong. Was it there before the fall? Humans needed to get to know themselves better before they were given choices. Free will is the problem. Choice is difficult to get right all the time? When we know it is wrong, why do we do it anyway? Because we know it is all an illusion and nothing is permanent? How much time do we spend thinking this over?
Why do we feel compelled to talk on cell phones all the time? Are we afraid to be alone with our thoughts? Do we have any thoughts? Are we afraid to connect with ourselves for fear of seeing something we don't want to see? Are we afraid the thoughts we find might just be someone elses thoughts we have adopted. Why do we think others are smarter than we are? Is the world filled with educated derelicts?What does it mean to be educated? What do you think? We need the age of enlightenment to be now, but, we don't have time.
Have we molded religions to suit ourselves? Do we change beliefs if they don't suit our lifestyles? How can a system of beliefs supposedly based on making the world a better place tell believers to kill anyone who doesn't believe like they do? Who is suoreme enough to make that decision? How much power do we give away when we give up on ourselves? Why do we hate? Why do we hate enough to kill? Why do we believe this might actually solve our problems? Does all of this really exist?
What conditions us to react the way we do? Where did guilt come from?
What does the hummimgbird say to me when he stops and looks in the window at me after sucking nectar from the beautiful, white moon flowers on Gypsy's fence? Maybe he says, "Yum! Yum! Thanks for planting those delicious flowers." You are welcome my little friend. Come back again when you see my writing light shinning. Hold on to that which makes your soul sing, your brain will any screw you up. When you die it is you soul that will go with you. Take good care of it. Cabin Thoughts Cara

Don't Come Back!

Centipede: any of a class (chilopoda) of long flattened many segmented predaceous anthropods with each segment bearing one pair of legs of which the foremost pair is modified into poison fangs. We have had many visitors at the ranch. Most have been welcomed. However, last week one showed up I hope never returns. It was late in the day, just beginning to get dark. The light from the cabin window barely lighted the bathroom floor. I needed to take out the trash. I went to the bathroom to get my shoes. They were on the floor. The front edge of the shoes was just under a chest of drawers. I did not turn on the light. As I reached for my light, beige, moccasin styled topsiders something moved very quickly in my right shoe. Yikes! Could it be a snake? It was not light enough to see exactly what it was. Quickly I switched on the antique lamp that hangs from the ceiling. Much to my dismay, slithering around in my shoe was a huge centipede. It was the size of a good Cuban cigar. Help! I could not leave to get a sledge hammer, because, if it moved I would not know where it was. Not good. I knew a fly swatter wouldn't cut it. This was a monster that I really didn't want to step on. And besides, crushing it would make a terrible mess in my shoe. My eyes were glued on this swirl of connected black disks supported by perhaps several hundred white legs and feet. It's head was ugly and white, and of course, there were the poisonouse red fangs at the rear. Think. How can I get rid of this thing forever? Very carefully I reached down and picked up the shoe holding the centipede. I made a dash for the toilet and flipped the centipede into the water in bowl. I flushed it. That boy is on a cruise to the dark continent where he belongs. We have also had the occasional tarantula, spider and exotic bug pay us a visit. To all of these unwelcome creatures we say, "Don't Come Back!" There is now steel wool plugging any hole big enough to give passage to these guys and diatomaceous earth to cut off all their little feet if they get by the steel wool. Such is life at the cabin in the Texas Hill Country. The hummimgbird has come to the blooming moon flowers outside my window several times while I have been writing. He sucks out the nectar, hesitates to look through the window at me and then moves on. The sun has been shinning most of the day. Hurrah. Such is life here at the cabin in the Texas Hill Country. The Cabin Gang

Fog Creeps in on Little Cat Feet ( Robert Frost )

Fog creeps in on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches, and then moves on. ( Robert Frost ) The fog came in the night to fill the woods and surround the cabin. Gypsy and I will not see the sunrise today. It is quiet and peaceful as we greet the day. Gypsy pursues a toad as she keeps a sharp eye on the feeding area. The deer, rabbits and squirrels might come to feed at any moment. This is exciting stuff to a nine year old English Pointer. Me too. The wooden porch furniture is moist from the fog. I should get a paper towel and wipe it off, but, I don't. I might miss something. The candle in the lantern flickers around the damp cabin porch. The hot expresso in my hand feel comforting in the almost cold , damp morning air. We hear no sound except the song of a nearby Cardinal. The fog has covered our usual morning view. The hills have disappeared into the soft, gray cloud. The sun is hiding there as well. The song of the woods is mysterious as the fog takes on the shape of strange creatures as it moves though the woods towards the cabin porch. It leaves a layer of moisture on us as it lingers in the candle light, keeping us company until it moves on. We see the first morning light filter through the foggy trees. The moon flowers are blooming on Gypsy's fence next to the porch. The angel patch is quiet. ( Flower garden, lined with stones and dotted with small, angel statues in front of the porch ) Another beautiful morning has come to us from the woods. We join the fog creatures and let the wood,s story drift over us as we watch the morning unfold. Gypsy will come in soon and take her morning snooze. The morning has been pondered. The cabin Gang

When the Hummingbird comes to visit.

Early this Spring Gypsy and I planted deep pink and blue morning glories on her five foot, cedar post rabbit fence right outside the cabin window where I sit and write. Gypsy is my nine year old English Pointer who completely runs my life. She is a superb companion in all ways. As the sun rises on the magnificent woods that surrounds the cabin, I sit at my window and watch it work and write about what I see. The sun is casting it's morning rays through the misty, hazy air gently moving the the woods towards it,s morning song. Gypsy and I listen and watch. This is a song to behold. The perfect racoon light, creeps silently across the floor of the deep, mysterious woods. As we are watching, a hummingbird comes to one of our large, deep pink morning glories. He is so close, we could touch him. When he is finished with the nectar of the deep, pink morning glory he once again comes to the cabin window, stops, as only hummingbirds can do and looks at us. He pauses ever so shortly. We exchange our morning greetings and he moves on. We are not sure how you say good morning to a hummimgbird. We wonder what he is thinking? Does he wonder what we are thinking? Will he continue to return to the cabin window? Can a hummingbird communicate with humans and dogs? Can they be trained? Does their brain work faster than then the speed at which they fly? Did the military get the idea for the helicoper that hovers from the hummingbird? Can you tame a hummingbird? A friend sent me pictures of hummimgbirds' nesting. They are facinating and beautiful. They will continue to be welcome guests here at the cabin. We hope they found a perfect place to build their nests in the woods. We hope they know they are part of the wood's song that brings us so much joy. Their are doves, jays, cardinals, rabbits and deer at the feeding area next to Gypsy's fence. She will point them until her patience expires. Then, she will run full speed directly towards them causing them to make a hasty exit to some safe place deep in the woods. They will return. She will point and chase again. She is waiting for me to finish my blog, so I can take her for a walk. She gets very excited about the walks. She does the pointer spin, which consists of spinning in circles in one spot. The spot can be most anywhere. We will walk to the low spot on our road, where the spring water runs across it. There Gypsy can get a drink to fend off the the heat of the day, before we start our walk back up the hill, on the gravel road that leads to the cabin. We marked this path home with many cairns. When we are out of eggs, we will stop half way up the hill at a neighbors to pick up a dozen. Had to stop this blog to get Gypsy in the cabin so Butchy Bull's-eye (old yellow ferrel cat with bull's-eye on his side) could get down from a tree in the angel patch behind the cabin.(area surrounded by Gypsy's fence)Bad girl! She just wants to have fun! We know we a lucky to be here. We know the years prepared us well for this journey in the Texas Hill Country. This question remains. Can a small town girl from Ohio, find happiness in the grandeiose Texas Hill Country? Read her blogs and you will see. What will the day bring? Let's go and see. The cabin crew

Butch Returns

Our family made a long sad journey to the farm in Evansport, Ohio where Grandma and Grandpa lived. We had to find a home for our old, yellow, cat Butch. The doctors and my parents knew there was something wrong with me when I was born. They didn't know what it was. There were many long nights when my parents took turns caring for me. I was wheezing and having alot of trouble breathing. I had to sleep sitting up in bed or on someones lap. As I grew older the problem still remained. When I was about 4 or 5 our doctor sent us to a specialist in the city. They determined I had asthma. Needless to say during these years I was a sickly child. In every picture of me there were dark circles under my eyes. I was scrawny. These doctors did alot of testing for things I was allergic to and it was determined that cats were at the top of the list. The house had to be specially cleaned. Covers were put on my mattress and pillows, and worst of all I had to get a shot in the arm every week. I was to be desensitized to my worst allergies. Overshadowing any problemas my family might have with this problem, was the problem of the cat. We had had Butch as far back as I could remember. He was a member of our family. He knew when my dad got home from work he better move out of his way. My dad always said,"I am not stepping over any cat!" Butch knew my dad meant it. Butch use to sleep on the cedar chest in the bedroom above the kitchen. When he heard my mom open the refrigerator door, the next thing you heard was his feet hit the bedroom floor. My older sisters, Janny and Nedy and I, use to dress Butch in doll clothes and take him for rides in our doll baby buggie. Fun for us. We all loved Butch. Even my dad in his own way. We went to see our Grandma and Grandpa in Evansport every Sunday after church. This particular Sunday was different. We were taking Butch to his mew home with them. We were all very sad. I was very unpopular. I felt very bad. Butch was, our only animal. Time sofened the loss of our beloved Butch. I quickly learned that the shots hurt as the amount of medicine in the shot increased. The doctor and I had some go arounds. My screaming from my defensive position on my back on the floor and him with shot in hand made an interesting picture. My mother would promise me a gift if I would not resist. I remember the pink plastis music box. It was round and had blue flowers on the top. I don't remember what song it played. Is that a bribe? It worked some of the time. Poor mom. After a few years the shots were stopped. I had out grown most of my asthma. Now, at sixty nine, at my cabin in the Texas Hill Country Butch has returned. Low and behold a large yellow cat has come to live with Gypsy and me and the rest of the cabin bunch. What a wonderful gift from the past. He will not live in our house because of lingering allergies. We will love him like before. Welcome home to the cabin Butch. I have missed you.

Blinders

Do you remember in "Gone With The Wind" when Rhet Butler was getting Scarlet out of a burning Alanta during the Civil War, he put a cover over the horse's eyes so it wouldn't shy from the flames? Do you remember in the "Jack The Ripper" movies how the blinders on the side of the horses eyes limited their pe-rip-heral vision to prevent them from being distracted as the drivers negotiated the narrow, dark, shadowy streets of London? Do you remember when Benjamin Franklin invented the eye glasses? These glasses proceeded to give multitudes of people better vision. Let's say perfect vision. How shall we analyze this? How do you see life? Do you listen to others and form your opinions? Maybe you read a book or newspaper, and after all, it is in print it must be so method. Perhaps you need to see it first hand before you make a decision. Let's hope you don't form all your opinions from television. Do you think for yourself? Do you consider both sides of the story? Can you tolerate anyone who disagrees with your views? Can you work through differences with others with patience and understanding. Do you have patience and compassion for yourself and others? Are you judgemental? Are you quick to criticze others? Do you get angry when someone tries to push their opinions on you? Are you like a trickling stream that gently flows through life or like rapids the hit and bounce off of rocks damaging there surroundings with reckless abandon? How well do you see life? Do you fool yourself? Are you happy in your soul, spirit and heart? What blinders have you aquired so far. Has someone or something thrown the cover over your eyes? Do you have blinders? Yes. Love your neighbor as yourself. If you don't love yourself start there. Be content where you are, but, don't stop trying to be better. God loves you just the way you are. That doesn't mean you can't improve. Make everyday better for yourself and all those about you. Smile. Could this not be fun? Above all be patient and listen. We are all works in progress. What a challenge. How good can it get? "If thou wilt leave the past to itself, entrust the future to providence, and content thyself with conforming the present to holiness and justice," Marcus Aurelius, you will be well on your way. Not an easy task for those caught in the rapids. Gypsy and I are in the riffles somewhere. Gypsy and I watched the angel patterned lace curtains on the bathroom window sill of the cabin blow in the breeze. We heard the raindrops fall gently on the metal roof. We watched some ants skitter accross our kitchen counter last night in the dim cabin light. The wind whistled around the cabin widows, left open to allow the humid night air to visit us while we sleep. Summer is coming to the cabin Gypsy brought me her first tick of the season. The chiggers are relentless. We tell ourselves that this is ok, because they were here before we were. It,s not much help. Life holds the good, the bad, and the ugly. What are we to do with it? (Cabin Hill Country Wisdom) From the life rich cabin crew Cara, Gypsy, Rhubarb, Stella and Sam, Jane Doe and the Brassy Bunch

Cousin Bill

When I was growing up in Wauseon, Ohio, my life, and my two older sisters lives were enriched by a plethora of relatives. Wauseon is a small rural town where everyone knows everyone. As a child growing up there you were watched over by the entire town. It was safe for us to go anywhere. Our our favorite relative was our cousin Big Bill. I was probably ten or eleven when I first met Bill. He had some qualities, I now know were not admirable. I want you to know the cousin Bill I knew, so, these qualities will remain buried in the past. He came to us from our mom,s side of the family. Bill was a big man, tall and heavy set. He had a smile that would light up the night sky. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. When ever he came to visit mom, we kids knew we were in for a fun time. Bill had been in the United States Navy, but, was now a police officer in Wauseon. What passed for fun in the late forties in Wauseon, would pale in comparison to what we do today for fun.
After mom had fixed us all a lunch of hamburgers and fresh, green peas, Bill would take us for a ride in his big, black Buick. He would go North of town to the Fulton County Fair Grounds. The reason for this was because the road past the fair grounds had a steep hill, with a quick drop. We always went fast enough over the hill to take our breath away. We called it tickle belly hill. It was fun and exciting! We loved it. Being a police officer he probably shouldn,t have gone so fast. It was probably alittle dangerous for us kids. Atleast we thought it was. After a few trips over tickle belly hill we went to the local ice cream shop, Sterling Creamery for ice cream cones. Bill always got us big cones. What a treat! Life was good.
Bill was injured during the attack on Pearl harbor and died when the Edmond Fitzgerald when down off Whitefish Point on Lake Superior. When the winds of November came early. It is raining at the cabin and Gypsy is in hot pursuit if Sam and Stella squirrel. Hope to bake a chocolate cake today, for lunch and dinner. Sound good? Maybe the taste will remind me of ice cream cones from the past?

The Library of the Mind

Wow! Ask me or any other 70 year old a question. What can we remember? Alot! My mind works like a slot machine. After you pull the handle, things go by in a flash. Nothing is forgotten. You may need a reminder to remember. Sometimes that doesn't work. You just don't remember. The years go by fast and create the education you store in your brain. How fortunate we are, if most of the brains cedar chest is full of good stuff. Even though the tough times make us strong and create our charactor, we want to dwell in the good times. When you have wheels for feet, you life will cover alot of territory. It is important to see what is on the other side of the hill. It is not good enough to read what someone else writes about a place. You have to see it fist hand. We are the searchers. It is not that we cannot be content, we just know there is more. Life is an adventure and each adventure changes us and adds more books to our library. There is a gift hiding somewhere deep inside of you. It may try to surface now and then. You will be forced at some point to recognize you gift and pursue it. It will be your passion. With me and my spinning slot machine mind, many things fill my mind very fast. It was not until late in my life that my gift showed up. The visions that were given to me changed my perspectives. There is a plan for you. I did not see my plan at work in my life until I was in my 60's. Your prayers will be answered. Mind are everyday. Listen to the voice inside. Look for answers from within. Everything you want and need is there. The voice will come, sometimes like a soft breeze and sometimes like a hurricane. Take time to listen. May the Lord bless and keep you.

Chuck-Will's-Widow

The rain came again last night to our spot in the Texas Hill Country. Gypsy and I went to sleep with the gentle rain drops playing their song for us on our metal roof. We were up before sunrise. Gypsy makes a strange, squeeky, high pitched sound when she wants to go outdoors. It never fails to get me out of bed. How awful would it be when nature calls, not be able to go because you are not outside? Dogs don't like to soil their living area. So, we are outside in the dark. My second whip cream laced expresso is disappearing. The air is cool and damp on the cabin porch this morning. There is a candle burning in the small lantern on the table next to me. The flickering light from the candle dances around the porch. Gypsy comes up the two stone steps to the porch and starts to hunt for the biscuits I have hidden for her. An hour has passed. Suddenly, a bird calls. It is a Chuck-Will's-Widow. A first for the cabin. We are thankful for it's visit. What a treat! The black lace of the tree branches and leaves is just beginning to be highlighted against the pale pink and blue morning sky. Twilight has come to the cabin. The sky is clear. We will see the sunrise. Gypsy and I move inside the cabin. She takes a nap. I sit down at my old desk, next to the wood trimmed cabin window to write. As I look out the window, I see the woods sparkling from the sunlight reflecting off the moisture from the rain. It is beautiful. This moisture on the leaves shines like stars and sparkles as the breeze moves the leaves to and fro. Some leaves look like flashing, yellow, traffic lights. You can see the foggy, moisture laden rays of the sun as they find their way through the trees. The cobwebs are outlined by the silver moisture. A wet bug skitters through suns rays. The long, green grass has the look of a Winter frost. Drops of moisture drip from the trees shinning like stars. The woods is at work. Gypsy is outside again chasing squirrels. She wants one real bad. This will never happen unless the squirrel has a heart attack. Rhubarb and Al were here this morning. Jane Doe has only come to the feeding area twice. Don't use your well house for storage. (Cabin Hill Country Wisdom) Cara

Death of the Gecko

At 8am this morning we found our gecko, Mr. Greenjeans dead on the bathroom window sill. We don't suspect foul play. We do not have a cat in the house. We will miss him. A small white rabbit came to the feeding area this morning. If it returns, we will adopt it and call it Al. Gypsy liked watching it. A sad day at the cabin. Life goes on though good men die. Life goes on, I forget just why.

A Pie in Your I From Cara's Cabin Kitchen

I start every meal with a rather large piece of double crust, apple pie. Sometimes, I put whipping cream on it. Sometimes, I put cinnamon or vanilla ice cream on it. Sometimes, I put cheddar cheese or chicken gravy on it. There are several reasons for eating pie to start your meal. The first reason is because I like apple pie. The second reason is it seems like the All American way to start a meal. The third reason is that it gets the desert thing out of the way right off. If you think doing this will cause you to gain weight you are wrong. You normally eat the foods that is good for you first. You have cleaned up your plate. You deserve that piece of pie. You have earned it. The pie is so good, you eat it even though you are full. You have just overeaten. Pie stops this learned from childhood behavior. Try it and let me know how you are doing. Any kind of pie will work. Don't use Dreamwhip. Use real whipping cream. From Cara's Cabin Kitchen

Is There a Better Way? Why Not?

Is there a better way? The people of the world will all be one skin color. They will all have brown hair and eyes. They will all be 6 feet tall and weigh 150 pounds. They will work to survive. There will be no governments to support them or fight their wars. They will work. Perhaps, there will be no wars without governments. There will be no police to maintain order. There will be no laws to break, so police will not be needed. They will not commit wrong doings against their neighbors or anyone else. Common sense and tolerance will prevail with every word they speak.They will assist those around them in every way possible. There will be one religion, with one God, who serves everyone. There will be no banks. They will attend to their own affairs. Money will take the shape of many things. When they go from place to place, yothey will be safe and cared for. Fear will not exist. Sickness brought on by a stressful environment will not exist. Material posessions will no longer be important. Good character and spiritual growth will be what is important to them. There will be no rich or poor. There will be no one who is more intelligent than another. There will be no envy or greed. They will not covet anything their neighbors have, since they have nothing more or less than they do. They will not commit wrong doings against their neighbors or anyone else. There is little to be gained by working longer or harder than their neighbors. Lying and stealing will disappear. They will not need vacations. They will be content with their lives. All entities that divide mankind will cease to exist. Choice, which has already proven itself to be the downfall of man, will no longer exist. Why not a world where we can live together in peace and harmony? Why not a world where all countries put their people first? Why not a world where we can celebrate our differences? Why not a world where we want to work and be responsible for ourselves? Why not a world where we solve our problems without killing each other? Why not a world where we keep the commitments we make? Why not a world where we are responsible for our actions? Why not a world where we choose the way we worship? Why not a world where God and family are still what is most important to us?
Perhaps we are just living in tangled times. Perhaps, "The time is out of joint..." Hamlet

Return of the Gecko

Friday at exactly 7:45 P.M. the gecko returned. He was perched on the log wall, near the ceiling in my bathroom. He appeared to be scouting a large cobweb that was probably housing a variety of insects. He turned out to be persistant and clever. We admire these qualities. I talked to Gypsy about him amd we decided to make him a permanent member of our family. We fondly named him Mr. Greenjeans after Captain Kangeroos old side-kick. We hope he will do his part and eat all the spiders and mosquitoes that make their way inside our cabin. We also hope he changes his bathroom habits. Just in case we will cover the quilt on the guest bed in the loft with an old sheet. I was reminded that gecko poop is extremely valuable. We will collect it from time to time from whatever source is provided and have it for sale for those of you who are descriminating buyers. Please know that if our gecko population increases we will have more poop for sale. You will be informed as to the outcome of this project. Such is life here at our cabin in the woods. God bless our gecko, Gypsy and Cara

Pink Ears and Green Lizards

At sunrise there was a pink glow comming from a part of the woods where there in nothing pink. Gypsy and I could see it from our window. This called for a closer look with our ever present binoculars. What could it be? Gypsy and I had to know. The sun was shining through the pink ears of a very large cottontail rabbit. He was visiting our grain and corn field for his morning meal. What a great way to start the day. All it took was taking the time to look. That is why we came to the cabin. This is a day the Lord has given us, let us rejoice and be glad in it. What Mother Nature provides for us is the best. Oh, but wait. As I pulled back the sheets that still cover the two east windows at the cabin, I got a surprise. Ageko dropped to the window sill. This must be the little green lizard that has been pooping on the quilt on the bed in the loft. The loft is my guest room. Wanna come for a vist? I grabbed him and tossed him on the front porch. My guess is he may return to my guest room. So, if you want to come for a visit, better hurry. It's called beat the geko at the cabin. He was my first cabin guest. I hope the next guests can find the bathroom. If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away. Thoreau

B.V.I. and Key Lime Pie

My daughter and I recently took a vacation to the British Virgin Islands. We visited friend on Great Comano Island. After landing at the Beef Island Airport we took a boat to the Comano. The next was a 4-wheel drive ride on a one lane road up to the top of the mountain. It is a rise of 500 ft. per half mile. Zounds- what a ride! This ride was attention getting, even after our airline trip down when flights were delayed because of tornados and flights were missed because of these delays. Not to mention a surprise sleep over in San Juan. The weather was beautiful ranging each day between 75-85 degrees. Snorkling and boating filled our days. Near the end of our visit our host decided to back a key lime pie. Foreshadowing? It was delicious. Shortly after arriving back at the cabin, I decided to bake a key lime pie. It was delicious as well. However, I had to taste it by dipping my finger into a glop of it as I quickly wiped it off my right foot where it fell as the foil pan it was in collapsed as I removed it from the oven. You have heard of a hot-foot? Well, I did a fast dance to cool off my foot. It took alot longer to clean the rug, the stove and the floor. It was a sticky mess! I will try again, and do as my daughter suggested and put it on a cookie sheet. It took me so long to squeeze those key limes. BooHoo. Such is life at the cabin.

moon

Because of all the rain and overcast skies, I have been making moon tea and am in the process of getting a moon tan. Nice things about these uses of the moon are; your tea does not get warm, no such thing as a moon burn, and you are alone on the beach. You might just meet that person you have been looking for some night on that beach. By the light of the silvery moon, where have I heard that before?

The 50's diary

Do you remember the litle diaries we had in high school? Our friends wrote clever little sayings in them, just for us. If you were lucky, your pages were full by the time you graduated. I wish I still had one to show you. Here are a few sayings I remember. On this page of pure white only angels dare to write. Yours til a snake wears a corset to hold it's stomach in. Roses are red violets are blue, sugar is sweet and so are you. If you remember any, let me know. Life was simple then. Mom met you at the door when you got home from school and dad was there when you needed an adjustment. You learned your behavior and values by listening and watching your parents and their friends. Everyone in town kept an eye on you. If you got in trouble at school you sat in dentention. My dad told me if I was clever enough to get myself in trouble, I better be clever enough to get myself out of trouble. Make good decisions. You are responsible for your actions. If kids were perfect they wouldn't need parents. If parents.............? Those were the days my friend, I thought they'd never end.

hopscotch

When the vultures are circling you don't see the rabbits out playing hopscotch. As Kenny Rodgers said in the song," Know when to hold em, know when to walk away." Shakespear said, "To, or not to be? This is the question." We are the searchers looking for answers in all the wrong places. We search for happiness and meaning in our lives. Many think fame and fortune will make them happy. Others think a new car, a new house, or a new pair of shoes will do it. The searchers search inside themselves for the answers. They learn the ways of this world do not hold the truths they need. They do not intellectualize life to suit their particular desires. They know there is something better. They know there is somethong that works 100% of he time. Seek and ye shall find. Devine guidance will put you on track. God loves you and He asks that you Love him. Try it, you will like it. The sun is rising at Cara,s Alien Ranch. Gypsy will have her first run within the confines of the new, beautiful, cedar post fence Lee and Jeff built for her. Yea! Life is good! Use it!

ants and doves

Some things you need to learn early in life. For example; don't stand on a fire ant mound. (fiercly stinging omnivorous ants) You have to admire their approach to life which is avidly taking on everything as if devouring or consuming. Why on Earth did God create fire ants. Did Noah have them on The Ark? If so, where did he keep them? They could last forty days and forty nights plus another 150 days or so in a glass jar. On the second try the dove found land. Is there a lesson to be learned here? If you get stung, be patient, don't take another step until you are sure of your footing. Oh my! Philosophy Texas style

Water, water every where -------

The water soaked Texas Hill Country will see the sun today. Yea, here it comes. Found the circle on the 5 acres where the aliens connect. Have marked it and am clearing it. They are here. You either believe or not. Do they belive we are here?
The cabin got a good rain test. Only leak was in the fireplace. Gypsy, my dog, and I have been cooped up in here long enough. We are really tired of each other. She barked at me for ten minutes yesterday for know reason I could think of. Don't know what to do, as the only road in here was under water a couple days ago and we got more rain. I couldn,t get a four wheel Prius, so we have to wait for the water to go down. God told me to go some place remote. I hope He is happy. I am. I love God and God loves me. Can He improve? No. Can I? What do you think? Tanless in the Texas Hill Country.

The stars at night are big and bright deep in the heart of Texas...

Since Gypsy and Cara moved to their log cabin in the Texas Hill Country they have worked on increasing their auras and sending their auras out to surround the Earth. They want to see what affect if any these powerful auras might have. They picture the state of Texas and their spot in the hill country. Then they concentrate on their auras. The auras start as a yellowish, white, very bright glowing light. Then they put the light on their spot in the hill country and let it expand to cover the United States, Canada, Mexico and eventually the glow covers the entire earth. They ask that this light bring peace and good health and prosperity to each and every places it touches. After they did this every morning and evening for a month during our meditations, suddenly crosses of all sizes started to appear in their auras. So now they have their auras as a heavenly light of beautiful crosses surrounding the Earth. They ask that through this light God will change the hearts of those who want to harm us and that we may have peace on Earth. They ask that somehow it will be possible for all people to live in harmony. This leads to common ground where we all become each others keepers and strive to preserve the Earth in good stead for everyone. Now, as they once again begin to focus on their auras and watch them begin to spread their light, they not only see crosses, but, a series of very bright, white stars mixing in with the crosses encircling the Earth. Where did the stars come from and what is their purpose?

The Final Countdown

Cara has her new computer up and running, so we are seconds away from a first post.

Disclaimer

Okay, this blog revolves around a nearly seventy-year-old woman in the Texas Hill Country, someone we will just call Cara. Over the years, Cara has been known to have visions, while awake, build cairns of varying shapes and sizes, and most importantly, Cara has had the ability to see the sky as a teeming sea of UFO ships, saucers, landing crafts and hover vehicles.
I don't know, maybe she is on to something, but unless you read on, you will never know.