An Old Irish Blessing ... May the road rise up to meet you.May the wind always be at your back.May the sun shine warm upon your face,and rains fall soft upon your fields.And until we meet again,May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

"It is said some lives are linked across time. There are certain people connected by an ancient calling that echoes through the ages....destiny."

Life is a fleeting moment. Why live life in moderation and control when it lasts so short a time. Love until you drown in the happiness, laugh until the air you breath escapes you, cry until your tears are dry and live like the next second death will take your soul. Life is yours to live, and live it you must, not in the fear of what is to come next. That Next Place is waiting for you. It waits, in the hope that you will come fulfilled and ready, not in longing and regret.

Thank You For Being a FRIEND!*°•.¸☆ ★ ☆¸.•°*”˜˜”*°•.¸☆♥Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵Ʒ..•°*"˜ ☆ ¸..•´¨¨)) -:¦:-.(ړײ)/       ¸.•´….•´¨¨)).«▓       ((¸¸.•´ ¸.•´.-:¦:-. ╝╚ ….. ... `♥♪♫-´¯

Wishing you a wonderful new week..Like little birds, we only fly when we get shaken out of our nests; and develop the strongest wings only when we try them against the wind. The dove in a fable, was perturbed because the wind ruffled its feathers, but without that air it could neither soar nor live. In struggle, it is prudent to not wish away every opposition. It is better to meet and master our difficulties that faith can be made stronger through conflict.~Leroy Brownlow~With much love allways

Friday, October 29, 2010

Borrowed Poetry ...

Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Robert Frost (1874-1963)

Nature's first green is gold.
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf''s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief.
So dawn goes down to day.
For nothing gold can stay.

A little autumnal poetry for my lovely readers!
Posted by Melody

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Autumn Song ...

Autumn Song
by Katherine Mansfield

Now's the time when children's noses
All become as red as roses
And the colour of their faces
Makes me think of orchard places
Where the juicy apples grow,
And tomatoes in a row.
And to-day the hardened sinner
Never could be late for dinner,
But will jump up to the table
Just as soon as he is able,
Ask for three times hot roast mutton--
Oh! the shocking little glutton.
Come then, find your ball and racket,
Pop into your winter jacket,
With the lovely bear-skin lining.
While the sun is brightly shining,
Let us run and play together
And just love the autumn weather.

And as we heading into summer here in Australia and Africa, our air cons will be working overtime keeping us cool. Let us spare a thought for our friends in Europe and North America cause they heading into their winter soon. Just the other day Retha from Canada posted pics of her garden thawing out. Where had the summer gone.
Until nexttime

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

It's be nearly 3 months that George landed in hospital and only now the skin is just about 95% healed. It's was just the beginning of our once a week visit to the doctors or hospital. Now he is going to need orthotic specially made for a Diabetic. Our medical aid contributes $500 to the shoes if the shoes are made from scratch and we will have to cough up the rest.

Dis nou al meer as 3 maande vandat George in die hospitaal beland het met daardie voet, en nou eers is die vel weer toe gegroei. Maar dit is maar net die begin van al die dokters en hospitaal besoeke. Nou moet ons gaan vir special orthotics skoene, wat seker 'n plaas se geld gaan kos, gelukkig het ons 'n medical wat $500 gaan aanlas dan betaal ons net die verskul. Beter as niks nie.

During the last few months I have discovered that I do not make a very good nurse, and even a worse driver in the early mornings. That we got to work in one piece was a miracle cause I am not a morning person, and it took a lot of willpower to try keep those eyes open esp at 5 am on a busy highway ... 45 min drive seemed like forever. If it weren't for Nilo and Des's sonday visits helping out with the work on the farm, and Nilo's great work as The Podiotist. They were a real blessing to us and we are so thankful to them both. (Going to miss them so much)

The last few months I have negleced this blog so badly, just haven't got a story in me atm, I have be so occupied with George and work, the animals and everything else. And my lovely grandsons come from Brisbane for a visit.
What I really need is time out at the farm, only that's not possible with the new lambs and chick season and paying for the electricity bills. Have you got your new bill yet? ours had gone up by $250 a quarter, and now the next one is due again, can't wait to see what that ones going to be.

Until nexttime

Friday, October 8, 2010

Happy Mother's Day

I know it's not Mother's Day but I just found it somewhere else and had to share it with you...

Happy Mothers Day to my children
I found this poem years ago and it always makes me giggle - so happy Mothers Day to all moms, and of course to my children. And here is what you all have to look forward to.

When I'm an old lady

When I’m an old lady, I’ll live with my son.
And make his life happy and filled with such fun,
I want to pay back all the joy he’s provided,
When I’m an old lady and live with my son.

I’ll write on the wall with red, white and blue,
And bounce on the furniture wearing my shoes,
I’ll drink from the carton and then leave it out,
I’ll stuff all the toilets and oh will he shout!
When I’m an old lady and live with my son.

When he’s on the phone and just out of reach,
I’ll get into things like sugar and bleach.
Oh he’ll snap his fingers and then shake his head,
And when he’s all done I’ll hide under the bed.
When I’m an old lady and live with my son.

When my son’s wife cooks dinner and calls me to meals,
I’ll not eat my green beans or salads congealed.
I’ll gag on my brussel sprouts, spill my milk on the table,
And when she gets angry, run fast as I’m able,
When I’m an old lady and live with my son.

I’ll sit close to the T.V., thru the channels I’ll click,
I’ll cross both my eyes and see if they stick,
I’ll take off both my socks and throw one away,
And play in the mud until the end of the day.
When I’m an old lady and live with my son.

And later in bed, I’ll lay back and sigh,
And thank God in prayer and then close my eyes.
And my son will look down and with a smile slowly creeping,
And say with a groan, “she’s so sweet when she’s sleeping.”
When I’m an old lady and live with my son . . . .

By Mary Ann Hopkins