Prairie Daydreams

Somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge Dogs romp around and waggle in Green fields and flowery meadows Cats climb and roll and nap and bat, Sharpening claws on catnip trees Birds soar on sweet smelling drafts Over ponds and streams of shining, flashing fish Equine stars and fluffy cattle run and jump Passing rabbits, passing mice, passing rats and gerbils and hamsters Creepers and crawlers of every kind are playing Greeting old friends and family And waiting And waiting Waiting for the ones they loved Waiting for those who loved them For somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge Families will reunite Friends will join together And somewhere over the Rainbow Bridge We’ll never again be apart.

  The Art of Gift Giving The Holiday Season is a stressful time.   It seems that we rush from here to there with a seemingly endless checklists of parties and social obligations, fun activities and once a year charitable service.   There’s baking and decorating and caroling.   And presents to wrap.   And the shopping. The never ending, soul draining shopping. Forget whatever else they tell you, it was the shopping that drove the Grinch to hide in that cave.   Thanks to the constant artillery shelling of commercials that equate love with the amount and price tag of gifts, people often shop themselves into exhaustion and debt.   Surely, that it what our loved ones want? Right?   A shiny new present to show how much we care.   Isn’t that what gift giving is all about? The truth is there is a true art to gift giving that has little to do with the amount spent on the gift.   Or not spent for that matter.   To be a truly great gift gi...

We are often counseled to be patient.  To trust the Lord and His timing and to know that promised blessing will come, if not now, then eventually.  What we often don’t hear, I think because of our own willfulness, is that there will be times that the blessings we receive aren’t the blessings we want.  Even harder than waiting, is letting go and remembering that despite all of our planning and wishing and hoping, the Lord quite possibly, probably, definitely knows things we don’t and a little faith may be in order.  Even though I have heard people talk about plans changing and detours in life, it has taken me almost thirty-four years to understand the value of unwanted blessings. I did not come to Kansas willingly.   I won’t say I came kicking and screaming.   Angry, bitter, hurt, and figuratively under the threat of death would be closer to the truth.   From the day I arrived, I started counting down the days until I could leave.   Not even two ...

In many ways, I had an amazing life growing up.  I saw different places, met people from a wide variety of backgrounds, and had many unique and incredible experiences and adventures.  My parents provided us with a lot of opportunities and there are great memories of our time together as a family.  I also have memories of stress, of anger, of fear.  Most of my life was mixed between these two states and then something happened that caused our family to break and my parents divorced.  The divorce was a good thing, especially for my mom. But, that final breaking point left me very hurt and very angry because of what occurred and I didn’t really know how to heal or move on.  Unfortunately, I also took these patterns with me into my married life and this cycle continued.  I knew something was missing, something that I couldn’t find, but desperately wanted and needed.  I found the answer almost a year and half ago from a wonderful church leader while di...

  Circling the wagons is an Old West cliché and a historical fact.   Wagon trains would “circle the wagons” around the campfire for protection at night.   Today, the phrase is used anytime a group comes together to defend or protect each other.   There were four of us growing up.   We grew up away from extended family or steady connections.   We were Army Brats and that was fine.   Growing up like that though, you learn to depend on each other in a different way.   You circle your wagons.   We did it often and there were times that we survived because we came together and supported each other.   Life was better, the family was stronger.   As adults, we continue to circle our wagons and support each other as much as we can.   Of course, we’ve added family members since then, a sibling, spouses, and children, but that’s the great thing about circles, they grow. As a teen, the best friends I had where those who came together...

Roads are a common theme or symbol in stories and poetry, a simple way to convey a journey, especially through life and the choices that must be made along the way.  Two famous examples of this are Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken” and JRR Tolkien’s “Roads Go Ever On.” While the messages of each are slightly different, the basic meaning is the same.  Each traveler chooses their path, and by doing so, their life.  Similarly, in cartoons or adventure movies, the hero approaching the dangerous cave will be bombarded by warning signs along the path.   “Danger!” “Turn Back!” “Quick Sand Ahead” “Falling Rocks” Each hero also has well meaning friends and companions who try to help and give advice as well as enemies who will try to derail the journey.   The hero in every case has a decision to make before continuing down the road.   Will they prepare properly?   Turn back? Or take a really dumb chance?   Going on could result in injury or even death. ...

  Waking Up From History (Lyrics are from “Right Here, Right Now” by Jesus Jones) I was alive and I waited, waited I was alive and I waited for this Right here, right now If you ask anyone, any generation, for a memory, a historical event that shaped them, molded their experiences or defined their youth, you will get almost immediate answers and often they will be very similar.   My mom for instance will mention the moon landing first.   But she also talks about the Kennedy assassination, the Beatles, and Vietnam.   I asked my son, who still has a lot of life left to live, what he felt was important, prior to the Covid pandemic, and he mentioned the election of Obama.   How these events affected the world, their world, may vary, but they did.   A woman on the radio talks about revolution When it’s already passed her by Bob Dylan didn’t have this to sing about You know it feels good to be alive The first major historical event I remember is...

When the millstones of life grind you down And the storms and tempest surround When you feel you can no longer stand First pray for peace When paths become lost, trails overgrown And trails signs obscured and direction gone When you are lost with no sense which way to go Then pray for peace When at death's doors you finally stand And darkness covers the fading light  Know One greater than all is waiting for you And last of all pray for peace

It’s a fairly well known and often taught story.  The woman is caught in the act of adultery and is brought to Christ to be judged and stoned.  Christ’s response: let he who is without sin cast the first stone.  The now very uncomfortable crowd disperses leaving just Christ and the woman who He treats with love and compassion.  This is of course a very abridged version of a very complicated and important story.  There are valuable principles that can be learned about judgment, compassion, and the Atonement.  Please understand, what follows is not a theological essay in anyway but rather, very personal reactions to and struggles that have come from this story. My first reaction has always been one of gratitude and love towards the Savior.   There was no lecture, no degradation. He already knew her heart and her feelings at that moment and spoke what she needed to hear.   When you are truly trying to repent, or pulling yourself back up after you’v...

 How do you describe lonely?  To be alone?  Does it mean to be without company? To be without companionship?  There doesn't seem to be one answer, not even for each individual. It's easy enough to think of being lonely when you are literally by yourself.  No one around.  There were Christmas Days like this when both of my children were gone.  It was miserable.  But other times, not at Christmas, I enjoyed the time to myself. I was alone, but not lonely. Same for eating alone.  I actually love taking a book, music, and headphones and just spending time by myself.  Lonely?  Not a chance.  It's great to have that time to put things aside and just enjoy myself.  No interruptions, no worries, no stress. I had to learn to do other things alone without being lonely, going to the movies, shopping, small things in life that are easy to take for granted.  Some were easier than others.  On that note, you'd be surprised the ...

  A very long time ago, I owned a dress, the dress.  It was the most amazing dress I ever owned or wore.  It was red and full of fire.  It was a dress meant for dancing and laughing and living.  Every time I wore it, I felt beautiful and amazing.  If you’ve ever heard the song “Lady in Red,” it was like that.  It wasn’t that I felt I was the most beautiful woman in the room, but that I was worth noticing. Clothes often reflect or affect our moods.  If I’m feeling lazy or depressed, you’ll often see it in how I dress.  This doesn’t necessarily mean jeans and t-shirt, but if you look, you’ll know.  Boots make me feel sassy. My purple work shoes are my rebellion. And jewelry, well, that’s my happy place of clothing, where I feel most free to express myself and particular brand of life on any given day.  A sure sign it’s not a good day is a lack of jewelry. On the other hand, it’s hard for me to get motivated while in my pajamas.  ...

 All my life I've been a wanderer of one sort or another.  I have lived in and traveled to many different places.  I wander from book to book, often times mid book, even mid sentence.  My writing tends to reflect that wandering as well.  The longer a work, the more crucial the need to reign in the loose words that have escaped and stampeded off on a totally irrelevant tangent. And find the ones that have slipped out of their proper places and are staring around in a daze. My thoughts wander about from idea to idea, place to place, daydream to daydream.  So much of my poetry, my creative writing lives first in these daydreams.  Words, thoughts, characters, scenes, imagery all plays out in fantastical scenes.  Some, much of it, dies horrible and painful deaths and we will NEVER speak of it again.  Some sneaks out and probably should have been smacked around and hidden away.  But some I truly love and set free.  Whether others enjoy it...