tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40771374986008888752024-03-19T03:54:30.386-07:00Living on the Little MulberryRural Life in the OzarksOzark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-79295266833160042022018-05-22T14:21:00.001-07:002018-05-22T14:21:25.790-07:00We Are Moving...<a href="http://livingonthelittlemulberry.wordpress.com/">Living on the Little Mulberry </a>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-30795011314403772832017-04-22T15:11:00.000-07:002017-04-22T15:11:04.448-07:00Blackberry Winter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It topped out at 54 degrees today, the sun never broke through the clouds, and it drizzled rain all day. When the blackberries are blooming and promises of summer abound and then the temperature drops; It's referred to as blackberry winter. I hope we don't have another.Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-4515469768019082602017-04-22T14:51:00.000-07:002017-04-22T14:51:12.485-07:00It's our new favorite place. We added a back porch this winter. It's private, has a spectacular view, and no roof.<br />
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Rex and I have drank many cups of coffee and adult drinks already on the porch, and slept a night out under the stars.<br />
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It makes me happy to see the kids enjoying being outside too. I can't decide if the fact that our WiFi reaches here is a good or bad thing. </div>
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-91629039516936375552017-04-22T14:29:00.000-07:002017-04-22T14:29:42.592-07:00Momma's garden July 2013<div class="mobile-photo">
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-36178484211322769922013-07-03T20:56:00.000-07:002013-07-03T20:56:02.382-07:00Sometimes people make me mad<div class="mobile-photo">
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-62202910759268055442013-06-30T21:43:00.001-07:002013-06-30T21:43:22.106-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I am conservative, thrifty, cheap. Is this the reason I like to cook outside? In my head I think I'm saving the universe; with the elimination of indoor cooking heat we can postpone turning on the a/c by a week or two. This is certainly to eliminate world hunger, national deficit, energy crisis, or any political platform issue I wish to list. As is obvious I am rather ignorant of political platform issues, because I'm busy cooking outside!</div>
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-85165783777006312732013-06-14T22:24:00.000-07:002013-06-30T21:45:57.062-07:00June 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The native hydrangeas I transplanted a few years ago are really putting on a show this year.</div>
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Little Bill posing with the daisies.</div>
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Lola avoided two appointments at the beauty shop this spring. So I decided to give a shot at grooming her myself. It took 3 days. At one point she had half of her face and rear trimmed. Too bad I don't have a picture of that day. </div>
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Commander. Rex is hoping to find him a female. His latest goal is to be able to claim that he is a donkey farmer. </div>
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Our yard garden has been expanded. </div>
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We added chickens to the family again this year. 7 hens, not too pretty to look at, but great layers.</div>
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Tater Tot. She's been here a year. Poor Toby wasn't keeping the mice population down due to his missing leg. </div>
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The girls attended basketball camp at the U of Ozarks. They worked hard for 3 afternoons. Savannah was awarded the Hustle Award. You go girl!</div>
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Sonic after Basketball camp. Savannah acting a fool in the parking lot and taking a picture of me laughing at her. </div>
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Toby sunning under the laundry.</div>
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The chickens are sneaking into the garden. I'm attempting to use the river reed to keep them out.</div>
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My Jenni. In her element. </div>
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aaaahhhhh, she slipped on cow poo!</div>
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My friend's sweet little blond boys in Houston.</div>
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Mom's backyard. An oasis in Lake Jackson. </div>
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One day while looking out her window she spied a turtle laying eggs in the yard. The blue crate is protecting them from predators. </div>
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Dad's house, where the sky is big and hills gently roll.</div>
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And the kids still know how to have fun in a sprinkler. (After we made them get off their IPods and come outside!)</div>
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Dad's front porch.</div>
<br />Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-88554681959311070632013-06-04T19:29:00.000-07:002013-06-04T19:29:46.015-07:00Rainy Day in May V<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5lbxGo00byJGX8yPi4wRJCyB3Jchyphenhyphen2ibOGwULaZHZBqDQkrvXdlN72m2RTRFWKeAMAcyV0KICrDPdFzMlMeA9sHff36Y6IjSNHE1mpd0eI6JTrgc9Eesa0mEn6j691BHBVB6B5BujlU/s1600/IMG_20130521_183505-758894.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5880777710596372898" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5lbxGo00byJGX8yPi4wRJCyB3Jchyphenhyphen2ibOGwULaZHZBqDQkrvXdlN72m2RTRFWKeAMAcyV0KICrDPdFzMlMeA9sHff36Y6IjSNHE1mpd0eI6JTrgc9Eesa0mEn6j691BHBVB6B5BujlU/s400/IMG_20130521_183505-758894.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Napping and dominoes on a ...Rainy Day in May</div>
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-18479102014726251692013-06-04T19:28:00.002-07:002013-06-04T19:28:48.912-07:00Rainy Day in May IV<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8UO0YG60wEbKWYfF88G44L1K0VbyWHtvsJ5IUuLwce7SuG56kE4FhHApVNadWDob9rzcyi4h_NAGPmoUSfGxn2NlCtoV8rHQzHtlto8yNHwwKj2eSWiXoFdme4S7zKM_aP34G_I5F5Bk/s1600/IMG_20130521_183332-778712.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5880777796337409810" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8UO0YG60wEbKWYfF88G44L1K0VbyWHtvsJ5IUuLwce7SuG56kE4FhHApVNadWDob9rzcyi4h_NAGPmoUSfGxn2NlCtoV8rHQzHtlto8yNHwwKj2eSWiXoFdme4S7zKM_aP34G_I5F5Bk/s400/IMG_20130521_183332-778712.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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A successful bottling on a ...Rainy Day in May</div>
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-91390488556728415722013-06-04T19:27:00.000-07:002013-06-04T19:27:45.845-07:00Rainy Day in May III<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1VSQOWMsqHGsJyJXluuml8-3f_YJMnmFeeRt1VFIs-2c9UK3F541bO-IzKTV307oksJfwoCtCFdaDyqOZzSpvyLrzRqf_FTge7fTVb8cx0r99QRjl_l-33PDHMgvb2ehG2fE6dbtIlA/s1600/IMG_20130521_123329-712146.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5880777937258287714" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1VSQOWMsqHGsJyJXluuml8-3f_YJMnmFeeRt1VFIs-2c9UK3F541bO-IzKTV307oksJfwoCtCFdaDyqOZzSpvyLrzRqf_FTge7fTVb8cx0r99QRjl_l-33PDHMgvb2ehG2fE6dbtIlA/s400/IMG_20130521_123329-712146.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This is what teenagers do on a ....Rainy Day in May</div>
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-20177189613909466532013-06-04T19:26:00.000-07:002013-06-04T19:26:29.785-07:00Rainy Day in May II<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGig7lGvM41ZfdsanKYYMeEci9mDOmxzSZZ9hUyVZhryPJ0NwUhGFKgVUHM4dIpLnv5XSPaE3WQkA1DzE5C3BgE0jlpeG5i5eh4Tcca83CXKoYTvchrLCgEB_66TRzSFES27Rf8YLon9E/s1600/IMG_20130521_123145-771708.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5880778197034796530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGig7lGvM41ZfdsanKYYMeEci9mDOmxzSZZ9hUyVZhryPJ0NwUhGFKgVUHM4dIpLnv5XSPaE3WQkA1DzE5C3BgE0jlpeG5i5eh4Tcca83CXKoYTvchrLCgEB_66TRzSFES27Rf8YLon9E/s400/IMG_20130521_123145-771708.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Little Bill snuggling with cedar shavings...a rainy day in May</div>
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-73537174365657819302013-06-04T19:24:00.002-07:002013-06-04T19:24:33.923-07:00A Rainy Day in May<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjls1ruf90v_fuB_2uHjrKH-wP6vVc7Et5loPZtNLAT8lHiNX8StNXebnqEClkK9ED5O1aI9M8cdVoWs-DKvIhZ9ut6-y2Xqgn2CV5JdT1Dfq-OYo3oY87aASKfK8C1IrhiA6D7Nd8eWg8/s1600/IMG_20130521_123018-737659.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5880778477282834594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjls1ruf90v_fuB_2uHjrKH-wP6vVc7Et5loPZtNLAT8lHiNX8StNXebnqEClkK9ED5O1aI9M8cdVoWs-DKvIhZ9ut6-y2Xqgn2CV5JdT1Dfq-OYo3oY87aASKfK8C1IrhiA6D7Nd8eWg8/s400/IMG_20130521_123018-737659.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Rex tying up the tomato plants that fell during the rain. </div>
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-24064946940978979042013-05-14T20:51:00.003-07:002013-05-14T20:51:49.940-07:00Have you ever...<div class="mobile-photo">
Have you ever read through your old posts? I have just read through several years (which isn't saying much considering my past years) of my old blog posts and I LOVE IT! What memories. I am reminded of the days past, inspired to continue and anticipating what is to come. </div>
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I have also caught up on blogs that I LOVE to follow. This reminds me of why I began blogging in the first place.</div>
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In conclusion I do not LOVE posts without at least one photo, so here she is...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBSvEk0WKmXbMH32KUGWQTqj_yHNw1B82ADsAPFKP12R8aNKVjRbP-de3x4H1zxspLCsWbIsQWAdih92x6e47N-xow2apg6LsWNVrKCqq1nJxT5ttXWwLgdOs_JwCf9LolN15Yl-pVhRE/s1600/IMG_20130511_163716-755079.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBSvEk0WKmXbMH32KUGWQTqj_yHNw1B82ADsAPFKP12R8aNKVjRbP-de3x4H1zxspLCsWbIsQWAdih92x6e47N-xow2apg6LsWNVrKCqq1nJxT5ttXWwLgdOs_JwCf9LolN15Yl-pVhRE/s320/IMG_20130511_163716-755079.jpg" height="300" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5878044804797618050" width="400" /></a></div>
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Sancho, his tractor and local labor.</div>
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-89963156419120203412013-05-09T20:02:00.000-07:002013-05-14T20:57:44.518-07:00Home<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpPbCl58dwmFhpTgJmCEzzGnk5EUE5X52jGnFP7zysh5nESTIhjQ3jYU0BtQXolXgXm4j3mET-AUWn9Er_sGx_GT6MkSzI9QJS3y7m_5OTAE09X9kczOckKqOAPme3Rj7KM5t2dcfZTo/s1600/IMG_20130509_110247-764235.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkpPbCl58dwmFhpTgJmCEzzGnk5EUE5X52jGnFP7zysh5nESTIhjQ3jYU0BtQXolXgXm4j3mET-AUWn9Er_sGx_GT6MkSzI9QJS3y7m_5OTAE09X9kczOckKqOAPme3Rj7KM5t2dcfZTo/s320/IMG_20130509_110247-764235.jpg" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5876074747405258738" /></a></div>
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I am home.</div>
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And healing from a stressful junior year in college.</div>
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I didn't move away, physically.</div>
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But I believe I had emotionally checked out.</div>
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I am learning to feel again.</div>
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I refuse to make a to-do list.</div>
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Today I picked flowers, sat on the porch, listened to the rain and talked to family.</div>
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I am home.</div>
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(Is that a haiku?) </div>
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Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-7989206423107516962012-06-08T06:28:00.001-07:002012-06-08T06:32:32.779-07:00Wood Splitting<div class="mobile-photo" style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhihDlJmuMPGh8Y2XSRK2oljxxj0I5qBcJZVS16kMyoHG012WXyf0UWlm5O_ElsKbjIUTq8BACXNu8DMN90oX0rKK6JjXVCZs3fBkEI4Wy6K89eHcrCY8U4f7a4Ty_8Be4nBjoxwkZNA/s1600/photo-729658.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5751657555501815090" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhihDlJmuMPGh8Y2XSRK2oljxxj0I5qBcJZVS16kMyoHG012WXyf0UWlm5O_ElsKbjIUTq8BACXNu8DMN90oX0rKK6JjXVCZs3fBkEI4Wy6K89eHcrCY8U4f7a4Ty_8Be4nBjoxwkZNA/s320/photo-729658.JPG" /></a></div>
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Our neighbor Art has volunteered to help us get our wood split for next winter. Rex enjoys splitting by hand but a wood splitter is a fine invention in my opinion.
</div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-63984390943060825882011-07-04T20:48:00.000-07:002011-07-04T20:48:56.965-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpyI94kc7UVKvf0CCEUkSDHuB0Qq0XxuxKBEiecm_OZHWoIkPyWangKRU36RHoQYVBRyk4rsQIivcCP6BV5FihCu7pnu73VQL3-timaUeZODSa_jxjO2T6fIEkQTyLFpEhvYNqIP5iJuA/s1600/DSCN5002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpyI94kc7UVKvf0CCEUkSDHuB0Qq0XxuxKBEiecm_OZHWoIkPyWangKRU36RHoQYVBRyk4rsQIivcCP6BV5FihCu7pnu73VQL3-timaUeZODSa_jxjO2T6fIEkQTyLFpEhvYNqIP5iJuA/s320/DSCN5002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Sometimes you just have to laugh. </div><div style="text-align: center;">I asked Blake to take this picture of us as we headed off to church. I am actually rather bitter my car is having to be parked at the bottom of our hill. During the dry months it has a hard time making the steep rocky climb. The rocks just roll and it beats my car to death. I broke the connector from the battery to the car a few weeks ago during the jostling climb. So I decided to save the car and park at the bottom. The four-wheeler is our transport back and forth. Fun (funny) for now, but it's getting old very quickly. </div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-39941745016414511262011-06-29T20:51:00.000-07:002011-06-29T21:01:44.673-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My daughter was in a 4-wheeler accident 2 days ago. I am every so grateful that her injuries are only a fractured jaw, a few stitches, scrapes and bruises. These will mend. It has made me count my many, many blessings.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyQFQnCBlJY0O32Sl84OuNHGxOEgHtifTBQNMhtxxvhPMi0XbEzzNwlXlPOP6Nt0c7mgGIGIJuHakcT4qKL3A' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-89950397578515922572011-06-26T22:04:00.000-07:002011-06-26T22:04:58.570-07:00Evans Cemetery Decoration<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHX5hneCneB9XLI6pKXvWGSsXcQ-3IsH-9NOQEslVcGOt0fCnwxjK9eZjMLTlG5E9BRfLsU5ltchLB_z_sI0JMgQcxpXreJsavyOBLh95fwoIrG9ML1q24iB_8vHIzhXHZx_82LzXgTpU/s1600/DSCN4753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHX5hneCneB9XLI6pKXvWGSsXcQ-3IsH-9NOQEslVcGOt0fCnwxjK9eZjMLTlG5E9BRfLsU5ltchLB_z_sI0JMgQcxpXreJsavyOBLh95fwoIrG9ML1q24iB_8vHIzhXHZx_82LzXgTpU/s320/DSCN4753.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">The Evans Cemetery is tucked away up here. So far that the county has to be called out most years just before decoration to smooth the road so cars can cross the creek. I think it is a jewel. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Decoration is every 4<sup>th</sup> Sunday in June (or last Sunday, I can’t ever get this straight) and it has become an important part of our summer. </div><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">Decoration, called Homecoming in Texas, is both titles rolled into one. A time for friends and family to gather together, remember loved ones, eat, decorate graves, and eat, wait… did I say that already?</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyG3iXFquAcE-ddX4-BSp7rf6an0VPJeh0na5bpjMpIbWJDRUcdbYShCUFModyMrAbfHUA3uYF3lpC2IuN15goPsxW79Lrqwsdh3X_yCOBfQ6sEfksGv5yZ6ERkQLpq3S9MI6wyrqzQYo/s1600/DSCN4754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyG3iXFquAcE-ddX4-BSp7rf6an0VPJeh0na5bpjMpIbWJDRUcdbYShCUFModyMrAbfHUA3uYF3lpC2IuN15goPsxW79Lrqwsdh3X_yCOBfQ6sEfksGv5yZ6ERkQLpq3S9MI6wyrqzQYo/s320/DSCN4754.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Savannah and 1/2 of the twins.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27JLy6RoBFvZ3qNTAKVBNmw8OrHAYFdv1Q50XRfh1ei0Orz5koklwUCoT3EeJ89-6guhjaXl4xyhHg4YaIX6vP0bXFwlL6a96TOrMswfqdvydTarw5qPW3jPKXxfJOWIBv9oTxL-xDQ4/s1600/DSCN4755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh27JLy6RoBFvZ3qNTAKVBNmw8OrHAYFdv1Q50XRfh1ei0Orz5koklwUCoT3EeJ89-6guhjaXl4xyhHg4YaIX6vP0bXFwlL6a96TOrMswfqdvydTarw5qPW3jPKXxfJOWIBv9oTxL-xDQ4/s320/DSCN4755.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Savannah, Nieces, and the cutest/only red-headed twins you've ever seen.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYAocEUIF68UdApt9vwpPBvV8OE6BF4sT2mWl81Awi9M_ti-6xYVM5_kAaWPG01hJ9FAftP7HfY1gwBcmQaBtwsHWiUt_ykUK-Ge_DAv1pVWOXFsyW5ZAxQFBzRAyRepuxiARtLeMRAY/s1600/DSCN4756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYAocEUIF68UdApt9vwpPBvV8OE6BF4sT2mWl81Awi9M_ti-6xYVM5_kAaWPG01hJ9FAftP7HfY1gwBcmQaBtwsHWiUt_ykUK-Ge_DAv1pVWOXFsyW5ZAxQFBzRAyRepuxiARtLeMRAY/s320/DSCN4756.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.dennetts.blogspot.com/">Silas </a>before the crowd arrived.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUCp3t9PCl0152GQRi5LYSsa4e5T9bEs-Js0EWpivsDPh0osdQ9mQWQLunMzSZNBA4qpHS4585rHeD4IOQDl-gaTaHrOHzAxwhHQBJ1D9_1Iql7hfuLMS46XzHA5Kg4zwRmlsD3IYa2Dg/s1600/DSCN4760.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUCp3t9PCl0152GQRi5LYSsa4e5T9bEs-Js0EWpivsDPh0osdQ9mQWQLunMzSZNBA4qpHS4585rHeD4IOQDl-gaTaHrOHzAxwhHQBJ1D9_1Iql7hfuLMS46XzHA5Kg4zwRmlsD3IYa2Dg/s320/DSCN4760.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Silas after the cemetery filled with people.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pDf7HfzVEYw8xMmZWlINdZmPBAN2J_DxmL_mHzIpJw656rd6YJDte7ym2i9UiL9e4-Qtc7gD0lEias2T0XmLlJQwAAajLOn_qGkd5gLSsqwK0KYY0HvtvzsCC2YcoLbHE0_oQfEkWRI/s1600/DSCN4759.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1pDf7HfzVEYw8xMmZWlINdZmPBAN2J_DxmL_mHzIpJw656rd6YJDte7ym2i9UiL9e4-Qtc7gD0lEias2T0XmLlJQwAAajLOn_qGkd5gLSsqwK0KYY0HvtvzsCC2YcoLbHE0_oQfEkWRI/s320/DSCN4759.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://littlemulberry.blogspot.com/2010/04/little-mulberry-has-forever-lost-one-of.html">Tooter's</a> Tombstone<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZavhGPppiZ0vovNXE7kzTTfwiFrHYwee3d-C9JcWZOtJsHbMkrwFLfvmM78Cte5g1jg8mAoyB6O4MMqzRCT7YtmR68DdoUvQfisbTW82p6bTK5ysEQitFw2xjVFa0OidxIbSU0D1kwQ/s1600/DSCN4763.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVZavhGPppiZ0vovNXE7kzTTfwiFrHYwee3d-C9JcWZOtJsHbMkrwFLfvmM78Cte5g1jg8mAoyB6O4MMqzRCT7YtmR68DdoUvQfisbTW82p6bTK5ysEQitFw2xjVFa0OidxIbSU0D1kwQ/s320/DSCN4763.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Telling stories and showing off scars.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I hope to be laid to rest here. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</span></div></div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-24620370583447545932011-06-18T21:29:00.000-07:002011-06-18T21:29:16.074-07:00How do mountain men entertain themselves on a summer Saturday afternoon?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMtqRQUc4gpDgRMkUnVi3ByQ3lMDfEL8z5N_JeZHZT9FAvvGbZ1tgaADC7v2NWUOlUtIZjPL4pErnXhakA59xC-0lQ5Lam-x3zZ-W07nqgbchqvq07dNXVEZWR18IRsoiz8V7Yuo0Kfg/s1600/DSCN4604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMtqRQUc4gpDgRMkUnVi3ByQ3lMDfEL8z5N_JeZHZT9FAvvGbZ1tgaADC7v2NWUOlUtIZjPL4pErnXhakA59xC-0lQ5Lam-x3zZ-W07nqgbchqvq07dNXVEZWR18IRsoiz8V7Yuo0Kfg/s320/DSCN4604.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8JylYRBDJoI_cb7mRAE71WhQhs01mHkegQ_JHz1biAlhpur9ttId5KMOUwA6LwPt2MR_mcKaZhX0kEp_ePc-osB9TjW32GyihibV8pO2ogMX26XZmZyZWYC3cmv65xwqnxpgKObOklQ/s1600/DSCN4605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8JylYRBDJoI_cb7mRAE71WhQhs01mHkegQ_JHz1biAlhpur9ttId5KMOUwA6LwPt2MR_mcKaZhX0kEp_ePc-osB9TjW32GyihibV8pO2ogMX26XZmZyZWYC3cmv65xwqnxpgKObOklQ/s320/DSCN4605.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> With spitting contests,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWeT_4eWagtv6dH495ySN42adRpCHOWv1pYsBTaj6M1ylzQSMA-lsXbgJyoe9I_Y5WYbx6soRRD55a2cjV21ZZ6WSUN3sbtjdBjiGGCLRTEMwSpburBoH-h3XowDPcchcZtXWheP24PU/s1600/DSCN4606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWeT_4eWagtv6dH495ySN42adRpCHOWv1pYsBTaj6M1ylzQSMA-lsXbgJyoe9I_Y5WYbx6soRRD55a2cjV21ZZ6WSUN3sbtjdBjiGGCLRTEMwSpburBoH-h3XowDPcchcZtXWheP24PU/s320/DSCN4606.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">yanking out root balls, rocks and anything that the wrench can wrap itself around, and cooling off in the creek.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xtqGdrvS07-QzBPbgPIhpanFlgDQxPYvbocnsYRsJtUNfIW19k3zpmIRUswDGItZoaFXYi8HinvhqzgjUHB_Aur6hXRe7Un53LIzWdeVMtSmNc9aPVQODhpi7TbyVY65JC37OVeqMnE/s1600/DSCN4603.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2xtqGdrvS07-QzBPbgPIhpanFlgDQxPYvbocnsYRsJtUNfIW19k3zpmIRUswDGItZoaFXYi8HinvhqzgjUHB_Aur6hXRe7Un53LIzWdeVMtSmNc9aPVQODhpi7TbyVY65JC37OVeqMnE/s320/DSCN4603.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-91452798138733059512011-06-15T20:48:00.000-07:002011-06-15T20:51:44.734-07:00Bringing a little outside in<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhooB3cUTfaTGeZUDenhUOGH7rFlyp5dmeaHhTWji7EdsJQ8peZodSUTpNn-lYx6p89jpdlPqgQydr9SUEf1h_VQ5DviDhIH76J1CH7E60c2N5qbx74UqAXf0Yhl41FU1qdKgU8wn5ruow/s1600/DSCN4562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhooB3cUTfaTGeZUDenhUOGH7rFlyp5dmeaHhTWji7EdsJQ8peZodSUTpNn-lYx6p89jpdlPqgQydr9SUEf1h_VQ5DviDhIH76J1CH7E60c2N5qbx74UqAXf0Yhl41FU1qdKgU8wn5ruow/s400/DSCN4562.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Black Eyed Susans, Daylilies, and New Potatoes<br />
Savannah has decided daylilies will be in her wedding bouquet. </div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-19029329607654432902011-06-14T20:02:00.000-07:002011-06-14T20:02:25.001-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbydIAxqFFYhrfG8YciDHK4YEOzbWNNpnfl8mlnaED7CJBk3I4CS4Nd-ek2FxNC5iTtiNiMlFQ10_6cW9TMXlS3MrZQ9I2aPsvvp4MFYQ9DTqDuFmXzV4xXzE08eyLDxMYJ5qvdK9nUT8/s1600/DSCN4542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbydIAxqFFYhrfG8YciDHK4YEOzbWNNpnfl8mlnaED7CJBk3I4CS4Nd-ek2FxNC5iTtiNiMlFQ10_6cW9TMXlS3MrZQ9I2aPsvvp4MFYQ9DTqDuFmXzV4xXzE08eyLDxMYJ5qvdK9nUT8/s320/DSCN4542.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> This past year of school had me functioning at full capacity. Therefore, I am taking full advantage of our swimming hole this summer. If "Therapy Hole" wasn't already a name of another swimming hole on the Little Mulberry I'd claim it for ours. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCft6e_kgy_cclZu9QFJ-O7od1hzwqGfHmR8H4UYRmtajdFeuAHWy4ic8ZoEzjrT3vPGaGRu0eRD-CN5UPltT_YQcsQ1SZg-bdIvjO6nkxX8xpCGQudXmp8PJeRQEqVY1KBXkWfF3vX88/s1600/DSCN4546.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCft6e_kgy_cclZu9QFJ-O7od1hzwqGfHmR8H4UYRmtajdFeuAHWy4ic8ZoEzjrT3vPGaGRu0eRD-CN5UPltT_YQcsQ1SZg-bdIvjO6nkxX8xpCGQudXmp8PJeRQEqVY1KBXkWfF3vX88/s320/DSCN4546.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg96JlBozMVmTdLjNNj8bEQG6OAUKPwCcnzfHDIPNNi68peTVi303nQyV1e9fOOJNJthGzFl-IgNWeBpVQ1ciQjXFSAGwz8dANW2rMYWTs02F6ic1gqyu4fJN1wW7rpVhCTN7W_euHek2U/s1600/DSCN4548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg96JlBozMVmTdLjNNj8bEQG6OAUKPwCcnzfHDIPNNi68peTVi303nQyV1e9fOOJNJthGzFl-IgNWeBpVQ1ciQjXFSAGwz8dANW2rMYWTs02F6ic1gqyu4fJN1wW7rpVhCTN7W_euHek2U/s320/DSCN4548.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> On a completely different note: Rising gas prices have us all considering other transportation methods and we must take into consideration the many miles of dirt road. My brother's solution is a dual-purpose bike. He brought it home today and the kids had a ride. Their first on a 2 wheeler. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAaKdGegkce9xaZh7WjqA2LSerP5NL4ipLMWoippT9Pswys0QPo-hqgT3FNJrgRSDNzdZwthSyXxcubqU0m8zJCI9GCPJxG2nh12LpZodoCC-_rRBg-QMqVIfAeHwHp58k9ZcQEr6ymhU/s1600/DSCN4552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAaKdGegkce9xaZh7WjqA2LSerP5NL4ipLMWoippT9Pswys0QPo-hqgT3FNJrgRSDNzdZwthSyXxcubqU0m8zJCI9GCPJxG2nh12LpZodoCC-_rRBg-QMqVIfAeHwHp58k9ZcQEr6ymhU/s320/DSCN4552.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-62247913811103117172011-03-18T21:51:00.000-07:002011-03-19T09:12:46.507-07:00Donkey Basketball<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">I believe the first time I heard of donkey basketball, I was a child in East Texas. We didn’t, however, attend the game. Therefore my idea of this crazy concept was an image of a sketched poster depicting a man riding a donkey with a basketball and an imaginative guess at just how exactly one does play donkey basketball. Of course when I discovered St. Paul was to have a game in their high school gym a few weeks ago. I was determined to experience this unique occurrence</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMR0Lo89C_-MQartwhhmhyphenhyphen9LJ555VGCQeKOt3XYO77tJ7qroUocyLU7FvsaQBwpFAy3pN4DRApeH6EU8Ql8Vr0BPgAxmsEhhysfW4QbueAUQZ4rkBJwMPg1p26Hbj75ecqj0aGM-6SFC8/s1600/DSCN3384.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMR0Lo89C_-MQartwhhmhyphenhyphen9LJ555VGCQeKOt3XYO77tJ7qroUocyLU7FvsaQBwpFAy3pN4DRApeH6EU8Ql8Vr0BPgAxmsEhhysfW4QbueAUQZ4rkBJwMPg1p26Hbj75ecqj0aGM-6SFC8/s320/DSCN3384.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80p-r4DIVe1Lil0kgLEMzyE5Z07LPO8vCL6B3_gNewYWqA4_VR4bNHr55Kgw6lRI0zT4f5WsnHvVtXyltkCwRmUUhN3ydRzHf6-YtYyZ0gHORMTU0qJJQEzb3I6hId9LRMTe64uWCuEg/s1600/DSCN3419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80p-r4DIVe1Lil0kgLEMzyE5Z07LPO8vCL6B3_gNewYWqA4_VR4bNHr55Kgw6lRI0zT4f5WsnHvVtXyltkCwRmUUhN3ydRzHf6-YtYyZ0gHORMTU0qJJQEzb3I6hId9LRMTe64uWCuEg/s320/DSCN3419.JPG" width="288" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As far as I can tell, the players were expected to be mounted while shooting for a basket and to have the reins in hand to pass the ball along the court.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/JUQ1PEWu9wk" title="YouTube video player" width="480"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span id="goog_1379849298"></span><span id="goog_1379849299"></span>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-15634646881048408972011-02-07T20:14:00.000-08:002011-02-07T20:14:01.874-08:00Snow Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">The mountain that stands between our home and town had a thin sheet of ice this morning. </div><div class="MsoNormal">It was ever so thin, but ice nonetheless. I had to turn back and come home. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I could have spent the day catching up on house cleaning, laundry, homework, </div><div class="MsoNormal">but I decided to enjoy my snow day by being out in the snow, or what was left of it. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Savannah and I set out to the back of our property where the cliff side meets the creek.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> The snow gently fell as we climbed and sometimes slid down to the creek. </div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsPrzcOzzzawtN6EBqNqT_nqrS2utdifsvcA68Hf7Z8U7VQXb63gzlO0WfItvOvvnB5KYt6sAN_WQ08WfXex-yYNTFEXnI5z4iQ3FwWBOz0bqSJX5b-fN2MAFDun4G1jUSmoutERT1dI/s1600/DSCN3287.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlsPrzcOzzzawtN6EBqNqT_nqrS2utdifsvcA68Hf7Z8U7VQXb63gzlO0WfItvOvvnB5KYt6sAN_WQ08WfXex-yYNTFEXnI5z4iQ3FwWBOz0bqSJX5b-fN2MAFDun4G1jUSmoutERT1dI/s320/DSCN3287.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOz48GAUkOenEF6TrAq8Hyz-20llQLV6uXCIOf5r8DREVo6hgTx0xtAdW36IAPs-y3lyX8nP5ClIEKaElkGcxjmWAYPK44mDVQhIRjUQV0KHKslV207t9vWpKKD2eJIj5Wx1YB85n5R68/s1600/DSCN3292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOz48GAUkOenEF6TrAq8Hyz-20llQLV6uXCIOf5r8DREVo6hgTx0xtAdW36IAPs-y3lyX8nP5ClIEKaElkGcxjmWAYPK44mDVQhIRjUQV0KHKslV207t9vWpKKD2eJIj5Wx1YB85n5R68/s320/DSCN3292.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1W6A8CksckZRuCwQoQ40RKhH6Im1PgiwUHmjVGyaAOsZa1WfbNh5dt5q1es74uQ_dmuAQSFQP3m8LInMJE5KD5KlHNOSDiCvRiiDq_gcKYQxR31EebFFr6zEZAYWZWDblr_7yGxOsmY/s1600/DSCN3293.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI1W6A8CksckZRuCwQoQ40RKhH6Im1PgiwUHmjVGyaAOsZa1WfbNh5dt5q1es74uQ_dmuAQSFQP3m8LInMJE5KD5KlHNOSDiCvRiiDq_gcKYQxR31EebFFr6zEZAYWZWDblr_7yGxOsmY/s320/DSCN3293.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Our summer swimming hole. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CqeSd_VR7QGanyReZ2AdfrrS58nXq4jor8ZTlBS_3VDqxCZlhobSvgStHyxozcXQhMKK0gVvesSP3KuXQWa4BzldMCBEuH_jqDR6xR3ncNmIWkjnS95ozyr6NY5AUo9JmfBX93MdLGg/s1600/DSCN3295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CqeSd_VR7QGanyReZ2AdfrrS58nXq4jor8ZTlBS_3VDqxCZlhobSvgStHyxozcXQhMKK0gVvesSP3KuXQWa4BzldMCBEuH_jqDR6xR3ncNmIWkjnS95ozyr6NY5AUo9JmfBX93MdLGg/s320/DSCN3295.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Coon tracks</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8WS6tjdr2sMVoCqtg703TFqXpKa7lPVFkZi10y3VgZL_qPSAe2cMfwGbU-qAyJe5LCC6DIXZRbI0LLZlhZ2eFIYc1QtxZQ7Nlm0dWzNH3WEhj6-udkNZ_5PhuvmbLzJgBgkiVp3Yd7Q/s1600/DSCN3300.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8WS6tjdr2sMVoCqtg703TFqXpKa7lPVFkZi10y3VgZL_qPSAe2cMfwGbU-qAyJe5LCC6DIXZRbI0LLZlhZ2eFIYc1QtxZQ7Nlm0dWzNH3WEhj6-udkNZ_5PhuvmbLzJgBgkiVp3Yd7Q/s320/DSCN3300.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Lola in her winter coat. I can't wait for spring and a groomed dog.</div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-59241757174222401342011-01-22T19:55:00.000-08:002011-01-22T19:55:07.338-08:00Goodbye Snow<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzyOHP9LGqFvQgDtQ1pQQCGJENsHZVI6nd_0AGaUpodXnZLjDZIN1eThCW1Zk3uyZJX56xOSmZkI1faa7DWrA' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4077137498600888875.post-52323405390922026472011-01-08T11:00:00.000-08:002011-01-08T11:00:38.800-08:00I wasn't an eye witness...<div style="text-align: center;"> I wasn't an eye witness to this, but I know exactly what happened.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1_jiRFYltc2pgVEu097-3U_-SV5t3NSi3iPPvrk_3cAdgwWbqCcILEJHv_79nhskmgZlt6FgJB2piStbIQRH-J4PqyJFxvNnfsWJ6cxaD6W9jI0HQNyHr-FiMnV_DUwBRRlkIXDnG3A/s1600/DSCN3027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl1_jiRFYltc2pgVEu097-3U_-SV5t3NSi3iPPvrk_3cAdgwWbqCcILEJHv_79nhskmgZlt6FgJB2piStbIQRH-J4PqyJFxvNnfsWJ6cxaD6W9jI0HQNyHr-FiMnV_DUwBRRlkIXDnG3A/s320/DSCN3027.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">You see, Lola is a pest. She bedevils everybody/thing. She pesters our rooster, our yard bunny Ben, us, and even Commander. We think that she and Commander have worked this out and he may actually enjoy the interaction. (I think he's lonely). But Lola doesn't know when to quit. It looks like she was pestering while he was trying to eat and the fence caught the kick. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIM3sWj_93Rv1DcRfg1QMZXdxsbxChMistcdF5FKWDhonySRo6U-5Q0ARDdwQ7dSBbHvMZuF8S0ceaCFSwNd3aN_lhlWVTXZrq4GWELL8dTzMxxzOESgHUYZZGBhMfb-fZvdqTaCRmscY/s1600/DSCN3032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIM3sWj_93Rv1DcRfg1QMZXdxsbxChMistcdF5FKWDhonySRo6U-5Q0ARDdwQ7dSBbHvMZuF8S0ceaCFSwNd3aN_lhlWVTXZrq4GWELL8dTzMxxzOESgHUYZZGBhMfb-fZvdqTaCRmscY/s320/DSCN3032.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On another note. I found this beauty on a hike last week. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVKv2qQlGWvIX2vjiYwub9bGJ5tXSbSWlnm2goIvmuq4yG0fSARrqCSwoSV2Xs_oojnt-xNSC66YKwj4ciiesCZxy2Or2XAofHWy0qN9CWNyDIbyyA5tKsbSA5THJuSQQ2WfU4itDv08/s1600/DSCN2905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJVKv2qQlGWvIX2vjiYwub9bGJ5tXSbSWlnm2goIvmuq4yG0fSARrqCSwoSV2Xs_oojnt-xNSC66YKwj4ciiesCZxy2Or2XAofHWy0qN9CWNyDIbyyA5tKsbSA5THJuSQQ2WfU4itDv08/s320/DSCN2905.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dried native hydrangea</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIM3sWj_93Rv1DcRfg1QMZXdxsbxChMistcdF5FKWDhonySRo6U-5Q0ARDdwQ7dSBbHvMZuF8S0ceaCFSwNd3aN_lhlWVTXZrq4GWELL8dTzMxxzOESgHUYZZGBhMfb-fZvdqTaCRmscY/s1600/DSCN3032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>Ozark Mountain Womanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15077744674754545563noreply@blogger.com0