"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