"Freeze"

There was a freeze last night

In our woods

The cabin is cold

Gypsy is in and out quickly

My fingers are cold

As they tap the computer keys

But I don't stop

My expresso is gone

The sun is shinning

The wind is blowing

The gate is still shut

My plants are still cover

Against the cold

It is twelve noon

My morning gone writing

Gypsy is sleeping

Her good time of the day

Covered by her favorite blanket

Not interested in my writing

I make a decision

I would feel better

If I could smell bacon cooking

So, for breakfast today

I will have lunch

Bacon and eggs it will be

Another cup of expresso

Is forming in my mind

Soon to be in my hand

A glass of orange juice as well

The bacon smells good

Against the cold air

Creeping in the cabin

From the woods

Gypsys nose is twitching

"A Poets Happy Days"

Poets need to write about happy days

So I will write about mine

Perhaps the carefree days of my childhood

Swimming all Summer at the municipal pool

Playing kick the can, arrow and hopscotch

With the neighborhood kids until dark

Having a fox terrier sleep on my bed

Reminding me of my mothers tender touch

Putting rolled blankets around my head on cold Winter nights

So the snow that came in around the bedroom windows

Would not fall on my head

The fun hunting and fishing with my dad

Eating raw vegetables in his garden

Keeping him from snoring during church

Visiting grandma and grandpa every Sunday

Playing with my sisters in their front yard

Eating apples that exploded with juice

From the orchard behind their small Ohio farm house

Gathering papaws in the woods nearby along the river

With my dad on warm, lazy Summer days

Playing at the cemetery where grandpa trimmed all the shrubbery

Making arches over my head and fences

Playing hide and go seek behind headstones

Going to the farm next door to gather eggs

Family reunions at the schoolhouse in a small town

Because there were so many of us

Tables of homemade food stretching down the hallways

Satisfying hungry eyes and filling empty stomachs

Cousins playing basketball in the school gymn

Walking to the Princess movie theater uptown

To see Roy Rodgers, Dale Evans and Trigger

Stopping at the soda fountain after school

For a chocolate coke or green river

Remembering my first high school boyfriend

Dancing with him at the prom

Sitting in detention during my lunch hour

Having skipped school to go shopping with friends

Marching in the band at football games

Going of to college

Kept in place by a loving family

Creating wonderful, happy memories

That have held me for a lifetime

I am grateful for these happy days

"Birds"

Our feeder is empty
Where can they be?
Watching old movies
On TV

Maybe they are out
Our seeds to get
No need to pout
We won't starve yet

Squirrels steal our meals
Squandering it all
There are no deals
They never call

They bury it all
In a small hole
Having a ball
Filling their bowl

Humans can build
A ship to the moon
But can't build a feeder
A squirrel cannot tune

Day turns to night
A rest time we need
Birds are up early
To find their seed

For cars there no need
Nor airplanes or money
Birds just want seeds
And days that are sunny

" Alien Ranch"

Gypsy, my 9 year old English Pointer, and I watched the sunrise through the lacy leaves of the trees in the woods. For some reason we felt this would be an unusual day. The branches looked black against the orange glow of the first light. It was very still. There was a mysterious chill in the air that made the steam slithering up from my mug of expresso visable. Ruben, the black and brown, long haired dachshund that lives next door was barking. Why didn't the little, yellow school bus come today? Why were the birds not singing? The Girls, two donkeys who live nextdoor, were making a strange screaming sound. We scanned the feeding area with our morning eyes looking for visitors? The only thing moving was the sunlight as it wrought ghost like figures across the floor of the woods. Where were all our visitors? Why was Gypsy digging holes and burying things? Why did I have a sense of impending doom?
We shook off these uncommon events of the day, and decided to do some outside work. The previous owners had left a huge pile of beautiful rocks. Many I could just pick up and move, the rest I would move with my new dolly. The cairns I would build with them, would mark the perimeter of our driveway, our flower beds and our alien self parking area. Gloves on my hands, pulling the dolly behind me, I headed for the rock pile. As I lifted the rocks, small critters scurried for a deeper spot to hide. It wasn't long before I was uncovering scorpions, centipedes and snakes. All of them were acting strangely. I tried to build some cairns and couldn't because something was disturbing my ability to balance them. I decided to take a break and sit on the cabin porch with Gypsy. We noticed how different the clouds looked today. They were very unusual. Then, off to the southwest we noticed a series of very mysterious looking clouds. They resembled the cap on a mushroom. They were white, but, looked like they had a dark gray center. They were all sizes, but, they kept the cap like shape. It occured to us they looked like space ships. Then, we decided they were space ships, disguised to look like clouds. They were probably on a secret, surveilance mission. Hiding in the clouds, they would not be noticed except by those of us who look for them. Perfect. As we pondered this, we decided there was a chance one might land here at the Alien Ranch. Gypsy and I watched and listened, but, the cloud shrouded ships drifted on by. Perhaps, they would return another time. Perhaps, they would only land in the cover of darkness. Gypsy hurriedly buried all of her chew bones and checked to be sure the gate to her cedar post, rabbit fence was securely locked. She wondered if they would bring dogs with them? She hoped they would not bring cats. Rabbits and squirrels would be be fine. She stayed close to me for the rest of the day. As the sun was setting, she was in the cabin securing her toys and food dish. It was not that she was worried that aliens might arrive after dark, she just wanted to be prepared. She told me she thought if they came to the cabin they would be nice and bring her some of her favorite biscuits. She said they might even bring her chickens to chase, like the ones our neighbor Joe has in his yard. I noticed as she crawled into her pink, sheepskin lined bed, on her navy, blue leather sofa, she left one ear uncovered. She slept with her paws over her eyes. She wondered if tonight, here at the cabin, the visitors in the woods would be more exciting than the visitors in her dreams. As we drifted off to sleep in the eerie, dark quiet of our woods, we listen for the unknown sounds space ships make when landing and for the rustling of small feet through the fallen leaves on the floor of the woods. Are we alone? Probably not. Here at the Alien Ranch we are watching, waiting a listening, not for if they come, but, when.

"On Becoming a Squirrel for a Day"

Just for today
Silly some say
To dance and play
All the livelong day

Becoming small
Climbing a tree
Waiting your call
Just you and me

I am your guest
Dancing in trees
Leaving the stress
Behind for the bees

Following no path
Jumping for joy
Skipping the bath
Birds do employ

Sitting in trees
Munching a morsel
Back on our knees
Up on our torso

Our call is clear
To summon a mate
Finding their ears
We make a date

Woods for a haven
Lucky we are
Even the raven
Envies from afar

Up in the treetops
Dancing our gig
Having no stops
Living our dig

Wanting for naught
Happy to be
Never getting caught
Is the key

Playing with all
Because we can
Having a ball
Lifes rich plan

Don't get in trouble
Twists and turns we need
Don't burst our bubble
A warning to heed

I like to be you
Happy all day
Finding the clue
Times meant to play

We are so glad
Content you see
Squirrels can't be sad
Playing up in a tree

Today I will smile
As I go to join you
Just for awhile
A fun thing to do

As Gods creations
Hard as He tries
To stop his elation
Tears come to his eyes

Change not one iota
Keep pouring out fun
Life has no quota
Here in the sun

Leaving you sadly
Figuring a way
Coming back gladly
A squirrels day to play

"Milnor Pictures"

I got to thinking about all the photographs I have taken during my seventy years. How much of me is in those pictures? Who will look behind the print? Who will find me standing there behind the camera searching the view finder for just the right mix? Who will wonder who I am and why I took the picture? Who will find me? Who will learn my secret?
My hands first found a camera when I was about twenty or so. My mother-in-law gave me a Graphflex 35millimeter Camera that was totally manual. I studied it for a few days and set out to take pictures. All the settings for the camera were a guess for me. I remember I took a picture of blue, flowering chicory growing along a guardrail next to a road in Indiana and of white Indian Pipes growing near a huge rock in the woods where we lived. When my husband John and I floated the middle fork of the Salmon River in Idaho, I carried this camera in a plastic bag inside my shirt. We started at Dagger Falls, on the middle fork, and floated to the main Salmon River. There were five of us in each small, rubber raft. One was the guide. As we approached a set of rapids I would grab my camera, jump up and click, click. Then I would jam it back in the plastic bag and grab the ropes to secure my position for the trip through the rapids. Luck was with me. My camera stayed dry. We were cold and very wet, but, we bailed the water out of our raft as fast as we could. Big coffee cans did the job well. Everything got wet, including most peoples cameras. They kept them wet so they wouldn't be ruined. We had a lay over day at a spot on the river called Hospital Bar. There was a rock bathtub near the river where hot spring water mixed with the cold water of the river. It was like a bath. John took my picture sitting in the warm water. I still see him taking this picture. I didn't want to leave. After the trip we sent our pictures to many of the people whose cameras got wet. My husband gave a slide show with the pictures at Rotary Club in the small Indiana town where we lived. It wasn't hard to get good pictures on the river. Everywhere you looked it was beautiful.
Over the next few years I took pictures of my family and lots of wild flowers and wild scenes. We lived in a woods and owned an additional area that was the Jean Stratton Porter property. She was an Indiana author. It was a swampy woods, with a creek running through it full of wild flowers. Our neighbor trapped the creek and caught mink. There was an old cabin in the woods near a bend in the creek that the local boyscouts use. It had a wood burning stove. Visiters would sometimes knock down the door to get it. My husband put a sign on it. It said, "The door is open." Spring time was a beautiful time there. I supplied a local artist with pictures of old, fallen down buildings. During the next several years, I took hundreds of pictures at our ranch in Wyoming. I have taken and looked at alot of pictures, but, it wasn't until my sister Nedra sent me a picture her son Tom had taken, that I realized I had been missing something. Tom had taken a picture of Abigail, the blue, cream, persian cat my family had given my mother.
I do alot of thinking in the bathroom. There are times I have revelations during my visits. The claw footed tub is a great place to meditate, as well as other modern conveniences. The cat picture Tom took hangs in this room. It is big and shows Abigails huge, copper colored eyes. They stare at me with great intensity. What are those eyes asking of me? What do they want? What are they telling me? What am I missing? Maybe she wants me to see what was happening at the time the picture was taken. Maybe she is telling me Tom is there with a camera in his hands. He is hoping Abigail will not move so he can get a great picture for his grandmother. They are having fun trying to get this picture. I don't know what kind of camera Tom had. I am not sure I even knew Tom liked to take pictures. Now, I know he did. I am sure glad. I like thinking of them and fun times.
So, now when I look at Abigail there on my bathroom wall, I see Tom and my mother together. A sense of humor was not spared on those two. They were both wonderful human beings and sent joy and happiness to those who knew them. Mom, Tom and Abigail are all gone now, but, this picture holds them for me to find and enjoy. Now, when I look at a photograph, I see the mystery of the story behind it. Not knowing for sure if what is revealed is intended. Wondering if the eye of the camera found the reason for the photo in the eyes of the photographer. Wondering if their photography gathers and holds them in its lights and shadows. Maybe you will see their secret hidden in the stillness when a second of life is stopped on film. Maybe you will see the image of the cold, wet woman behind the camera on the river. Maybe she will pull you in and hold you in the spell of the river that brought her closer to herself. Pictures dance around her like leaves in the wind. They are everywhere. They never stop. The camera in her head is never still. Maybe she knows the secret left behind in her pictures for you.

"The case of the Missing Black Fuzzy Sock"

If you have a dog living inside your house, you know this story. I do. Gypsy is my 8 year old English Pointer. If you read my blogs you already know alittle about her. We have been together several years and now, just over a year here at the cabin. Things have gone well for us, with only a mishap or two now and then. Miss Susie, the squirrel Gypsy scared causing her to chew her way into our walls has been hardware clothed out of the cabin. We hope. The neighbor dogs Bo and Haus who use to bark and make a fuss when they saw us, now just come over, eat the cat food sniff around alittle and go home. The rabbits, deer, turkey, song birds, feral cats
and other regular visiters no longer raise the hair on Gypsy's back. We have both settle into a pretty quiet existence. We have time to ponder our visiting critters, dream dreams and meditate on the cabin porch. Life is good. Except for one thing.
There is a thief loose somewhere in the woods
Now, this thief is not the usual kind. We aren't missing big, important expensive items, only small and what some might think as inconsequential items. I have investigated this problem and have come to this conclusion.
Throughout my lifetime I have come in contact with pets that secretly remove items from around your house. They put them in a variety of places. One dog whose name was Tinker Toy would hide under your bed and as your clothes hit the floor,he would very quietly pull them under the bed. My mom's dog, Itty Bit, use to hide those big, orange, circus peanuts in the cracks between the cushions of my mother's sofa. You might wonder why my mother gave her those. Thankgoodness she didn't eat them. We all know dogs will now and then get hold of an item that is not theirs. Maybe this item just had a familiar smell or was left in a nose high area. Perhaps it somehow got mixed in with their toys. It might have fallen on the floor near a wastebasket. In this case the dog would assume you were throwing it away. Mistakes happen.
How many times have you lost a sock in the laundry? Where do they go? Do washing machines eat them? Does laundry detergent nourish itself by eating them? Do they become lint in the dryer? Can they go down the drain? Is it fair to ask your dog if they have seen your sock. Absolutely not. When one of my favorite black, fuzzy socks disapeared while in the laundry, it never occured to me to ask Gypsy if she knew where it was. I am not that kind of person. I started looking. Sometimes socks cling to other items in the washer and hang on tight through the dryer as well. I did this search, no sock. Then I did the usual search around the laundry area. The old ruler under the machines proved fruitless. I was going to have to find a new pair of socks to keep me warm for the rest of the Winter. Where could that sock be? It has to be somewhere. They don't have wings. It did't get a ticket on Southwest Airlines. The feral cats don't come in the cabin. I was in dispair and had given up my search.
Because it has been cold, I have not been outside much. The first nice day, I decided to take the super dooper pooper scooper and clean Gypsy's area. Well, guess what I found? Out near the edge of my angel patch, almost hidden from view was my black, fuzzy sock. You probably think that I will think that Gypsy took it. Not necessarily, although it is a mystery as to how it got there. She would never take one of my socks, sneak it outside and hide it. Unless she had a moment when she lost control. Some dogs have this problem. She can't help it. Desire slid in under her brain causing her to do a dastardly deed. It happens to all of us. The sock was probably in her way on a path she held as hers. It was dirty and she wanted to clean her area. It's hard to argue with common sense. I do have to ask a tough question. Wasn't it around the same time the black fuzzy sock can up missing that I noticed Gypsy was acting strangly. When she went out she checked one spot immediately. I thought nothing of this until I realized that was where my sock was when I found it. This is all circumstantial evidence. After all, aren't we innocent until proven guilty? Her paw was on the bible when ask if she was telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you Lassie. When she barked yes, my heart came to rest where I knew it should be. I didn't notice at that time her back legs were crossed and she was holding her breath.

"Sulfur Socks"

A chigger is a 6-legged mite larva that sucks the blood of vertebrates and causes intense irritation. We got introduced to these tiny guys last Spring. The heavy rains that belted us day after day, setting records, led the way for them to become extremely prolific. We suffered under their influence all Summer as we mowed down the rain soaked, shoulder high grass that surrounded the cabin. With each storm, the mowing began again. This pattern continued for most of the Summer. We tried everything to get rid of the chiggers, so, our bites would disappear. They seemed to thrive on the sprays and cream insect repellents were tried. We put them on our skin, our socks, our boots and our long pants. We also put them on our arms and shirts. Well, guess what we got? Chigger bites everywhere, that kept us itching all Summer. Even though we mowed with our pant legs tucked inside our old knee high snake boots, they still found us. We were real tired of this problem.
We checked with our gardening friends and some of our neighbors and most of them had the same issue. It wasn't until I checked with Joe that I found a solution. He is my neighbor to the East. I can't see his place from mine, unless I crawl up in the tree house on the back forty. From there I can see the roof of his house. He has supplied me with some of the best fresh eggs I have ever had. We always have a nice visit when I return the empty egg cartons. When I have Gypsy with me she tells me she wants one of Joe's chickens real bad. They are always our walking around his yard. During one of our visits, I ask him about chiggers. He said he used sulfur to keep them at bay. I had never heard of that, but, I was glad to learn of something that worked. Well, Winter settled in and we forgot about the chiggers.
Now, the end of Febuary is in sight and the weedeater is in the shop for it's Spring service. We know the mowing will need to be done soon. So, when we were in Craig's Hardware yesterday, we decided to check out the sulfur. Reading all the warning and instructions on the side of the bag that only confused us. We were not sure whether to use it or not. For instance, it said keeps chiggers and ticks off your dog , but, if you get it on you wash your clothes and take a shower? I ask the young check out girl and she wasn't sure what I should do. She went and ask Craig's wife about the problem. I was still stewing, staring at the rows of products used to kill every insect known to man, when his wife walked up to me. She said people put the sulfur in an old sock, tie it off and bang it against their boots and pant legs. Wow, that seemed like a great idea to me. Banging the bag it will be. I am still pondering whether or not I will bang it over Gypsy. There was a warning. I don't want her mad at me. Living with her is difficult enough. She told me at the beginning she doesn't do yard work. She said she is an aristocrat, and they hire people to do jobs like that.
The sulfur in the sock technique will be put to use soon. Look out chiggers, we are ready for you. Our fingers are crossed. If you have never suffered at the hands of chiggers, you might think this is much ado about nothing. Please know you are welcome to come to the cabin and mow anytime. Call to make a reservation. If this results in chigger bites, you will understand our plight. Wouldn't it be nice if sulfur socks could get rid of all those things in life that cause you intense irritation? We will see.

"Good Morning Americas"

Good Morning America
My name is Satan
Coming to you
Directly from Hell
Getting your soul
Is my goal
Lost in a grave
Soaking up your spirit
Stained by the worldly Gods
Still losing on the seventh day
Work away, work away
Honor nothing
Fallen spirits are mine
Brushing them off
Like crumbs on the table
Truth never works
Cover your heart with lies
Steal what you can
Ruin a life
Kill a dream
I will rejoice
You are mine
Lust after flesh
Never be happy
Let desire guide
Follow me, follow me
Leave God behind
Give me your mind, body and soul
Pollute with evil
Gods temple lost
Lifes' drugs of choice
Will hasten the fall
A smile of success on my face
Let pride be your boat
Vengence your oars
Float the river of fire
Have all you desire
Blame all but yourself
Murder your hate
Hurry it's late
Calling, calling, calling
Falling, falling, falling
Hooked on my evil will
You won't be smiling
There will be no bands
When we meet at Hells' Gate
Your soul in my hands

Good Morning America
My name is Jesus Christ
Coming to you
Directly from Heaven
To save your soul
From the Satan
Lessons from my life
My path to the cross
Direct your way
Walk with me quietly
God will hear your life
When you slip he will know
He sent me
So your fall would be soft
And your forgiveness swift
With your first prayer
Forgiveness swallows your sins
Turning them to dust
In God's forgotten wind
The Devils hands
Unable to hold
What God has touched
God's love surrounds you
Love Him through me
No Gods of the world
Use His name wisely
The seventh day is His
Rejoice that day with Him
Talk to Him
Listen to Him
Have faith
Follow Him in truth and goodness
Know the depth of His mercy
Live in truth and forgivness
Free of envy and lies
Be content in His grace
Find joy in small things
Put your treasures in Heaven
Count your blessing
His magnificent Earth
For you,for you
Accompolish your dreams
Where the devil can't find you
Deep in God's plan
Heaven the goal
God there to greet you
Your soul safe in His hands
Leaving the Devil to fail
Having lost your trail
Satan curses your sweet fate
As God closes the gate

"The Wizard"

The wizard is hidden
So hard to find
Whose face do you see
As you fall into the magic
Finding the darkness of your light
Burned by the hot shower
Of trinkets to please
Warned by the devil
Who never knew you
Just wanted you soul
The magic just sizzles
It falls on the feast
Where the craving
Crawl in quiet relief
Tortured to gasp
Just one more breath
The devil and thee
Just one more please
And you will be free
From the dragon world
You could never see
That hooked your life
Bellowing the flame
Burning so bright
Never letting you go
Holding you tight
The devil and thee
Can't set yourself free
Free just to be

"Supertramp"

Alone and despondent
Wilderness called
Starving to death
His life in the bus
That sheltered him
So white and quiet
In the soft falling snow
His version of life
Would take him
Where he was destined to go
A world not to bear
His world did not listen
Fulfilling his prophecy
Fueled by a dream
Fed by desire
Leaving the staggering edge
Society mislead
Looking for sense
Laughing at life
Crying at death
No one could stop him
Try as they may
The cold, blue, trail called
The wilderness beckoned
His last breath left him
As his life dictated
Alone with himself
In a place invented
Where no loving hands
Laid him to rest
Just a dreamer and his dreams
And his magnificent wilderness

"Beauty"

There is beauty
That rests on the fence
Just outside my window
Held by the sun
Touched by the rain
Blooming patiently
Enjoying the pleasure of itself
Waiting to be found
Growing impatient with time
Knowing it will not last
For those who tarry
Fragile beauty
Do not dismay
You will come another day

"The Dog is in the Window"

The dog in the window
Is looking out to see
What needs to be bark at
Maybe you and me
There is no rhyme nor reason
Why he would bark at us
Unless his stash of barks
Needs to complete his fuss
Saliva and steam on the glass
Showing his teeth for a scare
Leave us in laughter
A very happy pair
The dog in the window
Knows all he needs to know

"Are You There?"

If I can't find you anywhere,
Where should I go to look?
In the first kiss you gave me?
In the first kiss I gave you?
In the first place you said,"I love you?"
In the first place I said, "I love you?"
In the first promise you made me?
In the first promise I made you?
When you said,"I do."
When I said,"I do."
When you stopped kissing me?
When I stopped kissing you?
When you stopped telling me you loved me?
When I stopped telling you I loved you?
When you broke your promises?
When I broke mine?
In broken hearts?
In the hands of time?
Are you there?

"Prayer"

Prayer is for all
Who seek the best
Answering the call
Finding the quest


Help is there
Whenever in pain
With burdens to bare
Will surely gain


Prayers move God's grace
On stars in the night
Into hearts and souls place
Making them right



Pray in good times and bad
Open your heart
Make you soul glad
Pray it's a start


Prayers have been kept
From the first ever said
And from heaven swept
To even the dead


Recycled they are
The worst and the best
Coming from afar
And given the test


Answered for many
Who seek and find
Receiving plenty
Of every kind



Go about being kind
Praying for those in need
Leave the devil behind
In evil and greed


Seek not the world'e wealth
Find God's healing grace
Look inside yourself
It's God's special place


Finding God's way
Where your answers lie
Is where he will stay
Until the last day


He's waiting for all
At heaven's door
Not for a fall
Forgiveness and more


Prepare yourself well
Do the best you can
Avoiding Hell
Is the right plan


All is well
You can see
Your not in hell
You are still with me.