Snapping the handmade afghan, a gift from our wedding, up in the air, bits of stale popcorn flew up like confetti. There were eight blankets spread on the living room floor, their smell a combination of dribbled milk, kettle corn, cracker crumbs,┬áLabrador, house cat and…my family. Here is where we made our bed two nights ago. Here is where we hunkered down during a blizzard, the second in five days, only this time, the power didn’t stay on. The lights flickered, and then, just didn’t come back on. We’d all just settled down in the living room for a “popcorn picnic” and a movie. The four of us, ready to weather this storm together, but not before we enjoyed the luxuries of outlets that were alive. We were only several minutes into Chicken Little, when …

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Frosting on The Tin Man

They say this year was one for the record books. Our neck of the woods got 12+ inches of snow in two days, the second highest amount in recent record keeping. I can remember one other time, from deep in my childhood, when we got a comparable amount.

Now that I have my own children, my own home, I finally understand how it is that adults used to rattle off the years that certain weather events happened. Like the old men sitting around at the gas station, talking about the frog choker back in ought-six, or something like that. I will always remember 2013 as the year of the blizzard. The real deal. But the snow isn’t the only thing that left an impression. It was the food, glorious food! Thanks …

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I gave love away, and got more love than I deserved in return.

Two years ago, in a Wal-Mart parking lot, I failed God. I passed by a dejected man, standing in the sweltering middle-of-July Kansas heat. I only looked at him long enough to see his sign reading “Will Work For Food.” In my passenger seat were 20 or so ice-cold Powerades, just purchased inside, condensation beading up on chilled bottles to match the beads of sweat pouring down this man’s face. I couldn’t give him money, or food, but I could give him refreshment. And I did nothing. I ignored that small voice. I just drove on by.

All the way home, my heart ached. I knew I’d done wrong. But I didn’t turn around. Later, I begged God for forgiveness, and a second …

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Sprigs of green wheat push up through dry Kansas soil.

Puffs of fine dust swirl where our feet meet with dry Kansas farm ground. “Mom, it’s like we’re living in the desert.” She’s right. This drought has left our land crackly, where it was once lush. I shake my head in amazement, that such a young child would make such an observation. Then again, the land is really all there is to observe out here. No mature trees, just a house, a red metal shop, and an old, rusty round grain bin turned chicken coop affectionately called “The Tin Man.”

Our homestead juts out of the corner of the field, an odd mixture of old and new. Old house, new foundation, old walls, new siding, old land, new family. On a bright, unseasonably warm February afternoon, the …

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A curious thing has happened during the last several weeks. I’ve started a new job. One that I didn’t intend to begin (until a talented aunt encouraged and mentored me), but one that I’m growing more and more excited about as time passes by. I’m one of THOSE ladies. You know, the ones who go about flaunting their wares, looking for the next customer, unafraid to enter the homes of strange people and take payment in the form of cash, check or credit card after putting on a show. The money can be good, if you know how to work it.

I’m an independent sales rep for a high-end jewelry company. Geez, what were you thinking?

So there you have it. The cat’s out of the bag, so to speak. My first few weeks have gone tremendously …

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