Farmer Boy (Because There are No Cows to Call Him a Cowboy)

  (Because I can't decide whether I like it best in black and white or in color):

Farmer Boy comes alive!  Ready to head down to the pasture and check on the goats.  Come along, ya'll!

It's a long ride down to the pasture on the reluctant horse's "back".

Finally there, Farmer Boy gives Goat's head a little love while Goat gives the decorations on Farmer Boy's chaps a little chew.  Goat likes them a lot and keeps Farmer Boy around a little longer than planned.

The grass from the other side of the fence is indeed much, much better!

Farmer Boy inspects the greens before he feeds Goat.  Don't want to feed him poison!  Goat just wants it, whatever it is!

 Counting the goats:  One, two, three, four . . .

Cute Farmer Boy's hands peeking out under that big hat:

 "Ya done yet, Ma?"  

Thanks, Farmer Boy!

The Baker

Cookies, anyone?

They taste better with Play-doh.  

Birthday and Day-Before-Braces Celebration

 Okay, so I might embarrass him, but I'm going to reminisce about this "kid".

I was fortunate to be able to be there when he was born.  So I've watched him grow up.  I used to tickle him silly.  I used to chase him around his house.  I used to arm wrestle him.  (The last time I did that was, well, the LAST time, as I knew the next time I'd be toast.)

But now?  This is no longer a little boy!  (Cue to wipe tears from my eyes.)  This is a teenager with a suddenly deep voice and big hands and six more inches in height than he had six months ago.

 Nay, this is a young man who no longer makes faces at me when his mom asks me to take his picture.  Sakes alive!  He flat-out cooperated during the 5-minute photo shoot! 

The next day he was getting braces put on those pearly whites, so there's the appliance-free smile for the last time in at least some time.

 

You'll always be a special kid to me, no matter how big you get.  And maybe I'll give you the privilege of smashing me in arm wrestling yet.  ;)  Love you!

Tornado

It's been two weeks now since the tornado hit and placed a marker in time in my life. 

The tornado ravaged my community, but my house was spared.  Not a shingle torn from the roof.  Not a tree ripped from its roots.  But when I climb to the top of my property, I see the edges of the disaster.  And I realize (stronger than I ever have before) the strength of my God's protecting arm.

I wonder, "Why NOT me?"

And I cry.  Over.  And over.  And over.

Come soon, Lord Jesus!