Christmas is over. The gift wrapping is in the garbage. The leftovers are in the freezer. The gifts are all being used. The tree is still up though. It will stay lit and decorated through the New Year. Then the holiday season will be completely over.
On Dec. 7, 1941, the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. For those of you who may not know the significance of this, Pearl Harbor is a U.S. military base located in Honolulu, Hawaii on the island of Oahu. A total of 2,403 victims were killed. Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt said this day was “A date which will live in infamy.”
I’ve been sitting in hospital rooms for the past week. I’ve seen how I have been a protective mamma bear when I didn’t feel that care was what it should be. I have tools I can use to protect those that I love to be sure they are safe and well cared for. I can use my voice to show my concerns and to show with emotion that I am serious and concerned. In a hospital setting, these things work.
As the snow falls, memories of winters past flood my mind. Our family used to play in the snow frequently. What else do you do when most days the seasons are winter? Our favorite snow activity was snowmachining.
There was a man I had the pleasure of knowing. He embodied the American dream. This man was educated, athletic, worked in coal mines, owned a business in town and spent years in public office.
I sit in my room, on my bed with a box of old pictures. Pictures of the black and white variety. Some are very delicate and flakey on the edges. Some are fading their color — the evidence of how years wear on us all. The oldest were made with sepia coloring that seems to be more durable and less resistant to aging. I look into the history of the times and wonder what their smiles would have looked like because most contained none.
Hey you. Aren’t you a manager? I was one of your customers and I saw you. I saw you with that young girl you’re supposed to be an example to and someone she’s supposed to learn from. I saw her doing a great job and picking up what you were teaching her quickly. I would have thought you would have been happy with her. She really was doing a great job.
I woke up to a notification on my phone. It said, “Joey + Rory new blog post — Enough.” I follow Rory Feek’s blog on thislifeilive.com. My heart sank as I read those words “Enough.” I’ve been following Joey and Rory Feek for quite some time.
It’s Halloween night as a group of about 10 kids ranging in ages from five to 15 are dressed in various costumes from rodeo clowns, to cowboys, to Darth Vader. You would think it’s just any normal group of kids carrying pillow cases and making rounds while trying to fill those pillow cases.
When I was a kid, some of my very first memories were at school functions. Not as a student, but as an observer and as a mascot of sorts
He quietly opens the door to his home after a long day of work. He walks as lightly as he can to the kitchen where he puts his lunch box on the counter. He peers into the living room and spots the love of his life on the couch with her eyes closed. He doesn’t want to disturb her, so he moves slowly and silently around the house.
It’s Tuesday morning and I’m hurrying to get my daughter and myself out the door. We quickly walk in the building and can already hear laughing and the hum of conversation. There’s people sitting at tables drinking coffee and in the kitchen there’s a crew of people prepping food. We are welcomed with smiles and our names being called. The small crew gives us hugs and we get right to work.
The wait for Sept. 5 was filled with so many emotions. Emotions that the people who brought it on us could care less about. There were the people with family members receiving medical treatments who didn’t know what they would do without their insurance.
Every day I see the final house that my grandma lived in. The old cabin that for 30 years was a one room cabin until the addition in the 1970s that gave her an indoor bathroom and a bedroom. She didn’t sleep in the bedroom when I was around though. Her bed was still in the main room and she let my uncle have the bedroom.
“I cross my heart and promise to give all I’ve got to give to make all your dreams come true. In all the world, you’ll never find, a love as true as mine.” George Straight serenaded me as I stared at my husband in our pickup. This song flooded my heart with memories of our wedding where I sang this song to my husband. What a beautiful sentiment to want to make someone’s dreams come true.
I watch the news and social media and there’s so many depressing things going on every day. It’s blatantly aggressive. There are so many things reported from innocent people being shot, race wars, conflicts between nations, and people with no respect lashing out at anyone. If you let yourself be engrossed in it too much, you can find yourself being depressed, angry, and even hopeless.
I have to tell you about a new dog my daughter adopted. She already has a red heeler, Spud, that is entirely too attached to her, especially since his best dog buddy died. She thought she would get him his own buddy for when she goes to college next fall so he won’t be quite as lonely.
Mistakes. A mistake is defined as an incorrect, unwise or unfortunate act or decision caused by bad judgment or a lack of information or care. Everyone makes mistakes. Some just have longer lasting effects not only for yourself, but for those around you.
We have a horse named Shot O’ Whiskey — we call him Whiskey for short, which is a little playful. He is very curious and not fearful of much. He’s only three now, so he can be pretty immature. He comes to me and will let me pet him if I stroke his ego with telling him how handsome he is. For the most part, he doesn’t like a lot of people except for my daughter and my husband. He is pretty social with them and our dogs.
Fair is always my favorite time of year. I think for me, it rates right up there with Christmas. It just has nostalgia to it from camping down at the fairgrounds and spending days on end with friends, to showing off all the hard work that has gone into projects and hopefully getting awards for all that hard work.
An old cowboy friend of mine went to live in that pasture in the sky recently. I wasn’t a close family friend, but I did consider the man my friend. I taught some of his grandkids in elementary school, although I didn’t even know that when we first struck up a friendship. I didn’t know much about the man at all at first, I just saw his kind heart.
Every morning I lived at my parents’ home, my mom would greet me with, “Good Morning to you. Good morning, sweet Stephanie. Good morning to you.” Followed by “Rise and shine and give God the glory” and ending with “This is the day, this is the day that the Lord has made!” I must admit that this ritual was OK when I was little, but as I grew into my teen years, it annoyed the heck out of me. Now I look back on those times fondly and remember the way my mother would start the day for me.
When I was a child, I romanticized and daydreamed about so many things. I had visions of how life would be as an adult. I had ideas in my head about where I would get married, where I would live, and especially what my house would look like.
Sitting in the driver seat of a tractor, warm wind blowing while the seat is bouncing up and down; that’s a great place for a young person in the middle of summer. I was 9 or 10 the first time I was allowed to run the tractor by myself, raking behind my dad, who was cutting hay in a tractor in front of me. I didn’t have a big tractor with a cab and air conditioning. No, I had no cab and it definitely wasn’t the newest tractor to choose from. It was a 1956 Massey Ferguson 35. I didn’t really even care that it was smaller or had no amenities. I was so excited to get to run this by myself that it really didn’t matter. I felt important; I was contributing.
How active do you think you should be in the political arena? Most people think that voting every couple of years and writing a letter to their elected officials about things that concern them from time to time is enough, but is it?
Nothing makes you appreciate family more than when they do something for you. From the littlest things to sometimes the biggest. In my family we have one who totally outshines anyone for just doing with a grateful heart. It honestly doesn't matter what they have planned, if you call and seriously need something, this person makes time for you. Most times, you don't even have to ask. When he sees something that needs to be done, he just does it.
The other night, in the lightning and the thunder, I sat on the couch reading. I saw the flashes of light out my window and then the thunder rolled. Our red heeler came running. He started whining, and I patted his head and told him it was okay.
Opportunity is a set of circumstances that make it possible for you to do something. This particular moment, my husband and I were coming home from Denver. We make this drive more than I would like, but we never seem to stop anywhere other than our normal bathroom breaks at Kum and Go’s. These trips are either for rodeo or for doctors, so usually there is no opportunity to stop and take in the sights between here and there.
Being in the hospital can be a very trying time. Unless you’ve given birth, you’re usually there because you’re ailing in some way. I can attest to that after a recent stay with my husband.
Thank you. Those words just aren't enough for the sacrifice given. Thank you seems to be so little in return for the life that has been payed down for my freedom.
This last week has been a whirlwind of emotion with the ruling of Judge R. Brooke Jackson regarding his decision that affects Colowyo Mine. I honestly wonder where common sense has gone sometimes.
My flag. She brings me pride every time I see her. She makes me emotional when I sing our national anthem to her as I stand in reverence with my right hand over my heart. You see, my flag, she is sacred. She demands respect just by being.
Parenting is an amazing experience. It’s a privilege that shouldn’t be taken lightly — a gift given to you.
We are a little ways away from branding time in our area, but there are always some good stories that come out of branding. It is always a memorable time.
A few weeks ago, I was given a gift for my birthday. It was one that I will carry with me for as long as I live. My entire family went to the Sunday afternoon Garth Brooks concert.
I am so grateful to have a job that provides wonderful benefits, such as great insurance at a reasonable price and a 401K, but I haven’t always been so lucky. Unfortunately, the people who need insurance at a decent price are the ones who work for minimum wage or not far above minimum wage and insurance is expensive.
I read a quote the other day that said, “Find what lights your fire and then chase that match.” I thought it was pretty appropriate considering my daughter had just given a speech last weekend about how to light your 4-H fire. She talked about the different people in her life that put wood on her fire to help feed it and make it grow.
Spring is here. Finally. A season of change. A season of growth. A season of moving forward. While we all know spring still brings dark, snowy days once in a while, we have those green blades of grass that we’ll see soon.
I don’t accept that there is lack of opportunities for our youth. I say instead, there may be lack of participation on the part of adults to make those opportunities happen for youth.
Living out of town comes with its own set of challenges, but there are many benefits as well. After living both in and out of town, I prefer out of town living. I’ll share with you some of the obstacles and advantages.
The millennials are here. They are voting for the most part. They are making decisions regarding government and this has me wondering how the future looks for our government.
The last year was a hard one for my family, and I know several of my friends are having difficulties right now. I am by no means an expert in psychology, but I do have some coping skills that I would like to share with you.
Our little corner of the world has so many issues that need to be represented at the state and national levels. We need to remember that presentation is everything and make sure that our representation is thorough, powerful and appealing with a reliable reputation.
Have you ever watched a caterpillar turn into a butterfly? I remember doing this in the third grade. We had caterpillars who built their cocoons to make a wonderful transformation to become something so beautiful. When the time was right, they struggled free and waited while their wings were pumped full of blood sot that they could begin working. Within three or four hours, they mastered flying.
January has been a month of non-stop going in our household. If you had told me even a year ago that my daughter would be achieving all that she is right now, I would have laughed in your face. She is a normal teenager but is accomplishing so much, not only for herself, but for our community. If she can do all of these things, I hope that she is an inspiration to motivate all of our young people to think out of the box, step out of their comfort zone and do something amazing.
This is my last in a series on the American Dream. Just to be clear, I had titled the columns “The American Dream” and the editorial staff added the examining Common Core to the column. This lesson plan was found online at Coreknowledge.org under Colorado Lesson Plans, History and Geography, Capitalism and Socialism.
Last week I explained how, in my opinion, a lesson plan on capitalism helped to sway the children to think that capitalism is bad. This week, we will touch on what is taught through this lesson plan on socialism, communism, and how this sways sympathy toward these political theories.
Last week I presented you with the beginnings of a lesson plan on capitalism and socialism. I was concerned that lessons like this are helping move our country farther away from the ideals that I consider “The American Dream.”
One of the things that is important to me is keeping the idea of “The American Dream” alive for my descendants. When you know someone who chose to be here, you feel firsthand the passion in which this country was built. Luckily, my children both knew a man who came to this country from Syria, and he taught them the value of this dream. He loved this country and all the opportunity that it holds. I am so afraid that less and less of the values he held dear are being taught to our children today.
The new year is just a few days away. In a few more, I will have been writing this column for two years.