Think about this - perhaps there is a "Cowboy Culture" that deserves as much hoopla as all the other separatist groups - black, asian, hispanic, native american, irish, women, and so on.  Maybe it deserves more hoopla due to the fact that it is/was a diverse culture with members from all the other cultures listed before.  The fact that the Cowboy Code represents much of what the older Americans still hold true!  What the author below says is true:  The Cowboy Code is also God's code.  What ever you perceive to be the greater Power in your world would certainly agree with the code.  It's difficult to understand, when there are so many things wrong with our whole world that we could be about fixing as a group, that the name of an airport or the motto of a college or the name of a sports team could create so much rancor and divisiveness.  I would like to know - personally - when are the grownups coming out from hiding?  It seems that the most childish of us all are making the most noise and the "silent majority" needs to raise a little particular hell and set things straight!  (See Cowboy Code - every single one of them).  Read the message below.

Tuesday, March 19, 2019
My friend Robert Knight, columnist for the Washington Times, has written an interesting article about how the "Cowboy Way" is under fire. In his March 18 column, Knight writes: "In 1949, as part of its "Riders in the Sky" promotion, a film studio released Gene Autry's 10-sentence Cowboy Code. The code resurfaced in 2007 in a biography of the movie star by Holly George-Warren, a prolific chronicler of America's popular culture. The reason it's included below is because cowboys are being thrown under the horse, along with "farting cows." They're the latest targets of the political correctness that seeks to replace American grit with a nihilistic creed of wimpery." I grew up a cowboy and try to live by The Cowboy Code. 
 
Knight's column describes how activists in Orange County, CA want to rename John Wayne Airport and remove his statue over what they deem as "insensitive" remarks he made in 1971. In addition, Knight notes, "Meanwhile, the University of Wyoming is facing a leftist uprising over its new slogan, "The World Needs More Cowboys." The sports teams have long been called the Cowboys. Wyoming's license plates feature a cowboy on a bucking bronc, and the town of Cody boasts perhaps the world's most famous rodeo. Nonetheless, the slogan should be "shelved" according to the UW Committee on Women and People of Color, and replaced with one that "represents the diversity of the people and cultures" at the college." 
 
Isaiah 5:20 says, "Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!" Isn't that just what these crusaders of the politically correct do? Here is the Cowboy Code:1. The Cowboy must never shoot first, hit a smaller man, or take unfair advantage. 2. He must never go back on his word, or a trust confided in him. 3. He must always tell the truth. 4. He must be gentle with children, the elderly, and animals. 5. He must not advocate or possess racially or religiously intolerant ideas. 6. He must help people in distress. 7. He must be a good worker. 8. He must keep himself clean in thought, speech, action, and personal habits. 9. He must respect women, parents, and his nation's laws. 10. The Cowboy is a patriot. How can anyone in their right mind disagree with this?
 
Knight concludes: "If they could just get enough power, the cultural vandals would wipe out all mention of white males in U.S. history - except for the self-hating ones in today's Democratic Party, including the Virginia governor and attorney general who appeared in blackface but, well, they're Democrats, so all is forgiven." How true. But what they fail to recognize that white males have, and continue to, contribute wonderful things to the global society. Cowboys represent part of that contribution, and they were and are not all white men. To men around the world: It's all right to be a man irrespective of what color you happen to be born. Follow the Cowboy Code, which is also God's code, and you will lead a blessed life, even though the politically correct will curse you. 
 

He was a beautiful, gentle friend ... part appaloosa and part palomino.  Just look at him ... all that muscle.  He had so much draft in him that we used to say we could serve tea on his back.  He might even have stood still for it.  He didn't stand still for much though.  If coyotes got in the corral, Tanq just watched him bare his teeth and chase them out of their home.  In the summer of 2006, my husband came home from doing horse chores and said, "Honey, you'd better go out to the farm.  There's something wrong with your horse."  I did go out to the farm and found my powerful beautiful gelding wilting.  There's no better way to describe how he looked.  His head was hanging down and when he walked he dragged his feet like he had no strength to lift them anymore.  He came to me and rested his head on my shoulder and, while we waited for Doug to come back with the vet, his head got heavier and heavier.  I was so afraid he would collapse and I wouldn't be able to get him up.  After a million years (or so it seemed), Doug came back with the vet and he diagnosed West Nile Virus.  We had been really good about getting the vaccine for the virus for our two boys and the vet said, when Polky was back to his old self within a week after steroids and antibiotics, that was probably what saved him.  He was around for another 12 years.  In 2016, we discovered he was going blind.  We were using a weed whip to clear some tall weeds and, when we started it, the noise scared our sweet boy and he nearly went through the barn wall to get away from the sound because he couldn't see where the door was.  We never determined the cause of his blindness but he adapted well, in the corral and pasture that he knew so well.  He always came running to the barn when he heard one of us pull up to groom and feed him.  He LOVED his carrots.  Once tried to eat my husband's orange shirt.  Time passes and we all grow old and so did Polk.  He was probably totally blind by this past summer and had no appetite so had lost around 200 pounds.  He wouldn't take his sweet grain but he still loved his carrots.  Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to keep him healthy and strong.  Doug watched him fail, hoping he would rally this spring and be our old Polk but time passes.  Time passed and we knew that Polk was just tired and wanted to be with his old friend, Tanq..  Now he is ... they are running free without fences and their manes and tails flying in the air behind them..  A smart man once said, "There's nothing better for the inside of a man than the outside of a horse."  They are beautiful, gentle creatures and we were lucky to share the lives of Polky and Tanq.  Bless you our sweet boys.

Put on your Chirstmas lights - help guide Mira across the rainbow bridge.  We finally listened to her.  With broken hearts, we helped her cross the bridge to join so many old friends and some she never met that had been part of our lives before she joined us.  But ... she joined us so many years ago.  She came to us as a fuzzy little fur ball from the Humane Society.  She picked us and we are so very glad she did.  She was the most intelligent and social dog one could hope to meet.  We took her to the Renaissance in Minnesota and she wowed them.  She had such class; the other dogs were all dogs but Mira was Mira.  Little kids would come up and say, "Can I pet her?" Almost before we could say yes, she would wag her tail and smile at them and they would just pet and pet and pet.  When my mom was in her last few years, she would call to me and say, "Your dog is teasing me!"  I would come into the living room find Mira placing one of her toys in Mom's lap and, when Mom went to grab it ... Mira would and pull it away and smile ...  One cold winter day she explored the fish pond too closely and ended up in a snowbank that became the pond.  There she was, curved tail up, head in the pond struggling, until my husband pulled her out - by her long beautiful curved tail.  She was lab and Elkhound mix and got the best of both breeds.  Just look at that picture.  Who could say she not "best in show".  It was our show and she was always best.  She used to dance under the feet of our horses - maybe she and Tanq have renewed an old acquaintanship.  She used to patrol the neighborhood.  All the property in this area was her's to guard and take care of.  And she did -- she walked the neighborhood -- she watched over Orville and Marilyn Lewis's property and Ken and Jo's and the Adams which by the way was where her boyfriend, Cruiser, lived.  She was frightened by fireworks and one fourth of July ran away when our neighbors, Todd and Kim, set some off.  She was gone for about 12 hours - but guess who found her and brought her home?  Todd and Kim.  She had strayed five miles away - at 14 years old and full of arthritis.  When they brought her back, she looked like "What?  What?  What's the big deal?"  My husband has just remembers how she used to "box" with him.  She would sit up beside him on the couch just waiting for the invitation.  Then - the fight was on.  She was the best "helper girl".  No matter what you were doing, she would ask in.  "Can I help?"  So after 18 1/2 years, today we hleped her and said good-bye.  We have empty Mira pillows all over the house and empty hearts as well.  Christmas will be different for us but turn on your Christmas lights to guide her to her new home.  It's hard to share more when there is so much more to share.  She was one of the best things that God ever gave us and we thank him for the gift.  Merry Christmas.

It's December 29th and my honeyman and I are doing our "Sunday thing".  He's reading the Des Moines Register and I'm knocking around on the web - looking for recipes, handwork patterns, and decorating ideas.

I hope your holidays are blessed and happy just as your New Year will be.

I'm saddened by one thing.  People are using lights to decorate anymore.  I think we were the only people in our small town who put up lights.  The main light was the nativity scene on the grape arbor; it was up first and was lit shortly after Thanksgiving.  My darling husband pushed to add more lights to both the front and back of the house.  We both remember, as children, our parents taking us on evening drives to see all the lights and decorations.  One of the things my sweet mother enjoyed was the Christmas drive to see the light show.  Why aren't we doing it anymore?  The lights show the celebration of Christmas ... that it's a birthday celebration.  It should look different than any another celebration!

The following was found a Christmas greeting this year:
    THE OLDER I GET ...
the simpler my holiday preparations become...
the closer I feel to old friends as I write my Christmas cards...
the more I cherish the oldest ornaments...
the more fondly I remember Christmases past...
the longer I hold on to a holiday hug...
the more I realize Christmas is a matter of the heart....
the tighter my throat gets when I sing Silent Night...
the more I enjoy giving than receiving...
the more I try to see Christmas through the eyes of a child...
the longer I sit at night in the glow of the Christmas tree...
the more wondrously beautiful the Christmas story is...
the deeper my awe at God's infinite love...
the more I love CHRISTmas!

Merry, merry Christmas and a happy, healthy, prosperous New Year to everyone!

It's been two months since the wedding.  The serene outdoor service was sent indoors by the weather.  The beautiful autumn day was cold and ever so W I N D Y !  Even without the external autumn glory, It was still lovely.  There was such an air of love and joy in the house.  Susan came down the stairs from the loft and Michael met her at the bottom of the stairs.  She wore a very soft russet dress off the shoulder and Michael wore black trousers and a black shirt and his tie was of autumn colors.  Susan carried a bouquet of autumn leaves.

Holding hands, they came into the living room and stood before their friends and family and declared their love and faithfulness.  A few weeks before, I was ordained in the Universal Life Church; with that ordination accepted by the state of Iowa, I was able to perform the ceremony for them.  It was a thoughtful service with readings that offered love and advice and love again.  Michael's sister, Beth who is an ordained Lutheran pastor, couldn't be there for the wedding but sent a message by email.  Her message was read by Michael's niece, Caitlin.  A friend of the couple, Falcon, offered his blessing.  Doug (my husband) read an Apache wedding prayer. 

Instead of the usual unity candle, the family performed a sand ceremony.  In a sand ceremony, white sand is poured into a glass container to represent whatever greater power is trusted to watch over this couple.  The groom then pours in sand to show individuality (Michael used green), then the bride (Susan chose orange) and then they pour in sand at the same time which shows the new faith and unity.  Then Kandiss (black) and Lily (purple) each separately.  Then the whole family pours their individual colors together.  It leaves a touching image that shows the individuality of each of the participants but the new blending as family.

The cake was something to behold.  The entire thing was edible with all of the decorations made of either buttercream icing or edible chocolate (otherwise known as modeling clay).  Doug & I contributed the cake as part of our wedding present.  On the same table as the cake we had a memory corner where pictures of those who left too soon were placed - Michael's dad, Susan's mother, and Michael's maternal grandparents.

Since we had to be inside, we did a very quick clean-up of our garage and set up the karaoke system out there for the reception.  Thirty pumpkins we had spent Friday night decorating were scattered around the garage.  Lawn furniture was moved inside and tablecovered.  Some bouquets of dried leaves and corn shocks around the support posts.  The new family fed their guests red beans chili and white horse chili with corn bread and fruit on the side.  Susan and her sister sang beautifully together - such a toiuching blend of harmonies. 

In spite of our best laid plans to be outdoors, we were sent inside by the wind and cold.  Maybe that was the "plan" all along. 

We are having another wedding in our backyard at the most wonderful time of the year ... autumn.  Our nephew, Michael, has asked if he can celebrate his choice of life mate here.  It's not his first but, as the saying goes, its his last ... and her last.  They have chosen to be married in October when fall is in it's full glory.  I say that because, each autumn, my husband and I shuffle, scuff, crinkle thru at least a foot of golden maple leaves.  We have two Norwegian maples in the backyard - they provide the canopy for the meditation room.  The cottonwood has already started dropping leaves and, tho we love the cottonwood, the leaves are pretty drab.  When the Norwegian Maple starts to drop, it's breathtaking.  Look at the picture of our sweet baby, Mira, in the maple leaves on the opening page of our website.  When the air becomes crisp and the morning sky that incredible midwest blue, and the garden starts to go to bed, and the hummingbirds come back on their trip south for the winter, we know autumn is here.  Autumn is a cacophony of sound - crunch of leaves, cicadas humming, the crackle of a fire and the summer hum settling into quiet nights.  Autumn is a rainbow of hues - the sky is never such a blue, the leaves go from golden to red to cottonwood brown, our garden, so lush and green just days ago it seems, begins to droop and dry, all the flowers offer seed for the coming season in brown little packages just there for the taking - another of God's promises of life to come and the squirrels bury just about anything that has a potential for winter snack.  Autumn is a aroma that is unmatched when the bonfires start burning, and the last meal is grilled and the clothes are taken down from the line for, perhaps, the last time of the season - does anything smell as good as line dried linens?  The touch of autumn is that of putting a garden to bed for a winter nap, the feel of a leaf so soft just a few weeks ago now crumbles in one's hand, the caress of a breeze from who knows where that is fresh and light and barely touches your cheek, and the heavy feeling of a quilt or an afghan on the bed (even the weight of it is warming).  The taste of autumn - how many things are there -- candied apples, cider warm and mulled, a buttery warm merlot can fulfill all the senses, the last tomato from the garden still warmed by the sun and sweet, sweet, sweet, and the anticipation of all the holiday tastes to come!  How can we not love autumn?  That our nephew has chosen to marry his soul mate at this most glorious time of is a family thing - though he may not know it - his grandparents were married on October 17 in 1936.  So it goes - he asked Susan to marry him where his father asked his mother and he marries her as his granddad married his grandma in the autumn of the year.  My husband and I feel special to be part of this - it just seems right.