The answer

OK, so I was out taking clothes off the line and just burst into tears thinking about not going to the shower. Just went into a real "woe is me" pity party crying spree. Really unlike me as lately I have wondered what is wrong with me as I just don't seem to cry very easily, even when I am emotional. Well, I came in the house banging my head on the porch banister as I leaned down to pick up clothing I dropped, which hurt really bad and made me cry more, so I threw myself on the bed and had a good sobbing. Of course, it was at that moment the phone rang and it was Red Cross calling to put us on alert to drive the ERV--it could be anytime between Thursday and Sunday that we would be deployed and we would have 4 hours to report to the chapter in Austin. Don looked at me questionly (he answered the phone) and in my head I was thinking Sunday so I nodded yes and he told her yes, we would go. Then I just began sobbing again thinking about it. I asked him more and when he told me we could leave as early as tomorrow I really felt sick.

We had just prayed and decided to leave it to God--if we are called, we go. But how do you know which is God? The phone call or my hurting heart? Is family more important or volunteer committments.?All I know is I was miserable. My heart was screaming that it wanted to be with family, my family, no matter how selfish that seemed. Yes, I love serving others and I seriously care about those about to be affected by this storm but I need my family time. Am I horrible and self-centered and self-serving? I don't know the answers to all of this. Here I have been listening to Joyce Meyer on TV talking about not letting your feelings rule you--to do what was right even when you don't feel like it. What is right in this situation? Do any of you readers have a thought about this? I want to know. I want to learn and I want to do right. Yes, I know Jenny and all the rest of you would understand and forgive my absence--it is not about that, it is about me and my strong desire and need to see you and be with you.

So while I was sobbing with my head down on the kitchen table after the phone call, Don walks out on the porch with the phone and unknown to me calls Red Cross and tells them my dilemna and that family comes first and we would not be available until Sunday. That seemed fine with them and all was well with folks at our chapter but they still had to call back the service area head in Houston and tell them our change of mind. They do not take kindly to this kind of thing. So Don got to feeling bad about this and called our chapter back and said that he would go if our ERV was called out earlier. So this is where we stand now. I am coming to Jenny's tomorrow and will stay through Saturday shower time and then we will see what is happening on the Red Cross scene. I do feel better and I am so happy to be coming to shower but I still feel a bit guilty. Thanks for listening to all my woes. I would love to hear any insight from anyone.

My Heart Hurts

Ok--got a big dilemma here. I want so badly to go to Jenny’s, to be at her shower, to be with my family. But we are listed as available with Red Cross and with all this stuff going on I am so scared we will be called. I want to go, I want to do what I said I would do and respond for Red Cross, but I don’t want to miss the shower and my family. Am I being selfish, self-centered? Don is feeling lonely and has missed me while I have been at the ranch even though he is ok with that and now feels he will miss out on getting to go out on Red Cross because I am gone to Jenny’s. I just want to do the right thing but I don’t know what the right thing is. I don’t want to put my family second to Red Cross. But is helping people who have lost their homes and stuff less important than me attending a baby shower? Are my priorities messed up? There are just so many ifs. How bad will the storm really be? How much are we really needed? What is the right thing to do. God, please help me. We want to just put this in your hands and do what you want, we want your will. Please show me the way, the right way. My very selfish prayer is that we could wait until Sunday to deploy but none the less, your will, not mine.

Ranch Happenings

Sad to say today is our last day at the ranch. I have been here for a month and just loved every moment and feel so refreshed and rested. I have had this feeling inside that God was allowing this rest time as something big was coming up--and now there are three tropical storms out there--all threatening American land: south Texas, Hawaii, and Puerto Rico. BUT I DON’T WANT ANYTHING TO CALL ME AWAY BEFORE SUNDAY!!! I am so looking forward to being at Jenny’s and seeing most of my daughters and daughters in law. Please, Lord, give me grace and mercy to get to have this time with my family.

Yesterday was a crazy day. Cows. Crazy cows. The vet was coming so we penned them up. We came back to cabin and next thing we know the bigger cow is calmly munching grass by the creek. How did that cow escape? She was in the inner, really tight pen. So we go investigate to discover the top of the cattle panel fence bent over where she had jumped over the fence. Now this was a five foot fence and she is a big 6 year old Hereford--we were astonished that she could do this and that she would do this as she is a pretty tame cow that lets us walk up and pet her. But then we were reminded of the day we bought her at auction as a young calf and had her in the horse trailer bringing her home and Beki turns around and says “That cow is so outa there”. We were so embarrassed as people from the auction barn ran out to help us round up our wild calf. Anyway, back to my tale, we got the cow back into the pen again and Don put a feed trough on the fence posts where she got over to make the fence about 2 feet higher and then we had to babysit her to keep her from finding another place to jump over. The vet was supposed to come at 1:30 but did not arrive until 5 so it was a long hot afternoon of sitting in the pens under a shade tree just waiting and doing crossword puzzles. Then we had another wild time when the vet tried to get her in the chute. She busted through the gate of the chute--pulled the hinges right out of the post. Rounded her up again and began the whole routine over only to have her jump over another section of fence and get out. The vet was really mad by this time and he got after her and penned her in the chute for a third time. Finally, she was still enough for her shots and for him to examine her to see if she was bred (must admit I would have run from this myself). Both cows were bred--to the Longhorn bull that jumped the fence back in April (she brought home the boy next door……)The little cow is only 10 months old but he said she would be ok as Longhorns throw small calves. Well, the bigger cow was still not through being ornery and as we tried to get her out of the chute to release her she went nuts and knocked some more boards down and loosened a couple of posts holding the chute together. The vet sure earned his money on this visit. So before next year we need to do some serious repairs and makeovers on the pens and chute.

Don and I were so hot and tired we went back to the cabin, put on swim suits and climbed in the galvanized pond ( metal stock tank) for a cold refreshing dip. It felt so good.

Memory Lane: Fried Marbles, Jump Rope, and Hopscotch

One of favorite memories is crystallizing marbles. We would get a bag of assorted marbles from the dime store and pick out some real pretty ones and put them in a dry pot and heat them up on the stove. You kinda shake them around in the pot until you know they are hot (or sometimes we would hold them by tongs in the flame of the gas burner---but Mama did not approve of that, she said the pot was safer as they could explode if they got too hot). Then you quickly dump the pot of hot marbles into a pot of very cold water and they would shatter inside the marble and look all crystallized. They were real pretty to put in a glass jar and set in a window.

Jump rope was another favorite summer past time. We would tie one end of a long jump rope to the garage door handle and have one kid turn the rope and the rest of us would take turns jumping. We knew lots of little rhymes and jingles to sing while someone was jumping and would have contests to see who could get the most kisses as Cinderella: “Cinderella dressed in yeller,
Went up stairs to kiss her feller,
How many kisses did he get? One, two, three, four……..”
There were lots more fun rhymes where one jumped out as another jumped in, or two jumped at a time, chili peppers (real fast), and all kinds of variations.

Hopscotch was a game of skill that occupied lots of our time. First, we would search for a “chalk” rock so we could draw a hopscotch board on the driveway. Then we each hunted for our own unique flat rock to use as our throwing piece. To start off you had to throw your rock in the square with the 1 on it and have it land in it without touching any lines. Then you had to jump over the square with your rock in it and hop on all the other squares (without stepping on a line) go to the end, turn around and come back. If you made it you got to continue on the same way by throwing your rock in the two square. Your turn ended whenever you or your rock touched a line or lost balance and landed in the wrong square. I loved this game. Even the boys would sometimes play with us but us girls were much better.

Still not found

Ok, the ranch record book is still in hiding. I have just moved on to more positive things. One of which is I am so thrilled that so many of my daughters and daughters-in-laws have joined the blogging adventure. Kara and Gina have now joined our ranks. I am so delighted and excited. It is just so neat to get to share our feelings and frustrations and day to day happenings. Thank you, Jenny, for pulling me into the blog world.

What is wrong with me?

What is wrong with me? Why is it so very, very hard for me to get organized. Especially with paper stuff. I try so hard, I spend hours, I write stuff down, I work so hard at it and then it is like everything I do just disappears into thin air. What is my problem? I need help, lots of help. I have read books and gone to organizing seminars. I am not a stupid person. My life is pretty orderly, it is not chaotic (well, maybe some times) but I seriously quickly try to regain order and control. But paper stuff, records, notes, they just go away never to be seen again.

Safe places. That is my problem. Something I don’t want to lose I put in a safe place. Well, that “place” is totally safe from my memory also. Right now, what started my burst of tears, down spiral of berating myself, is the ranch record book. You see, I could not find the one we had been keeping so last week I went through everything in the cabin and found every scrap of paper or note or receipt or whatever pertained to the running of the ranch and recorded it all down in a brand new record book. Stuff like when vet was here and what was done; animal counts; whose baby belonged to who; what wormer we last used on the goats and what the dosage was, who we got hay from, etc. etc. I need this stuff. I want it all in one notebook that Don or I can easily lay our hands on. So I spent hours making this notebook and now it is nowhere to be found. THIS IS A ONE ROOM CABIN AND I HAVE NOT LEFT HERE SINCE I DID THIS SO IT HAS TO BE HERE SOMEWHERE!!! WHERE IS IT?????

Lord, you are always so good to help me each and every time I lose my glasses--which is quite often, we both know, and I am so grateful for your grace and mercy in always coming to my aid, I know you must be shaking your head in frustration with me. But now, Lord, I need your help again. I want to do this better--to learn better ways to keep up with things. You are a God of order, please teach me, guide me, help me do better. Please lead me to whatever dumb place I have stuck the ranch record book. I will be so grateful to you and when we find it, God, please show me where YOU want me to keep it. Your ways are so better than my ways and I want your ways, Lord.

Memory Lane: The Ice Cream Man

One of the most exciting sounds to hear on a hot summer afternoon was the jingle of the ice cream truck coming down the street. He always came about 4 o’clock. We would stand on the curb with our nickels in our hand holding them out so he would know we were serious customers. Then came the difficult decision--did I want a popsicle, Eskimo pie, Drumstick, Fudgecicle, ice cream sandwich, or an orange dreamsicle. Oh, how good it was to sit right down on that curb and eat my treat!

BRIBERY: Another note here. My mother took a nap every day of her life I think and consequently she thought I should, too. Do you understand how excruciatingly painful it was to me to be called inside for a “rest period”? I thought playing jacks on the porch was plenty restful…but Mama didn’t agree. Looking back now, I realize it was SHE who needed the nap and needed me to be inside and quiet for her sake. So she would always tell me I could have a nickel for the ice cream man IF I would rest for an hour. That, and realizing it gave me time to catch up on Nancy Drew’s adventures, made it bearable but I was always so afraid that I would still be inside and miss hearing those jingles coming down the street.

Memory Lane: The Milkman

When I was a child our milk was delivered each morning by the milkman. It came in glass quart bottles with little cardboard tops. We would leave the clean, empty bottles on the back doorstep and he would replace them with milk fresh from the dairy each day. I can still remember the smell of his truck--wet and milky-- and the sound of the bottles clinking in the metal crates they sat in. Some days he would let me ride with him and help him deliver the milk around our neighborhood. What a treat that was! How big and important I felt to get to carry those bottles of milk to someone’s door and retrieve the empties. The truck had no passenger doors or passenger seat so I just sat on a milk crate and held on til it was time to hop out at the next house. I thought this was the greatest fun ever.

Memory Lane: Plantin' Stuff

My father loved to work out in the yard and consequently we had a beautiful yard. His real love was growing roses and tomatoes though so we had many colorful rose beds in both the front and back yards. He managed to tuck 5 or so tomato bushes in the flower beds, too, and oh, did he grow yummy tomatoes. My mother told me that the year I was three I thought I would be helpful and pick tomatoes for Daddy--the only problem was they were still green so I pretty much demolished his crop that year. Mama said he almost cried. I am glad I was too young to have recollection of that event. In the spring the beds were full of pansies, zinnias, and snapdragons-each so vivid and unique. Pansies are my favorite flower just as they were Daddy’s. They just look so velvety and soft, like little faces.

Anyway, because I loved to spend time with Daddy I developed a love of plants. He would let me pick out packets of seeds when I accompanied him to the nursery and I would plant them in whatever container I could find. Each morning thereafter I would eagerly rush outside to check my pots to see if anything had come up. I just loved planting and growing things. One time I planted a bunch of cucumber seeds in some of Daddy’s rose beds along our fence. Man, did those things grow and produce a jillion cucumbers. I think we supplied the whole neighborhood and Daddy was a bit concerned the vines were taking over his beloved roses. I always yearned and begged for a real vegetable garden with rows and rows of plants but he never would let me till up his lawn to do that, so I had to wait until I was married and had my own house to have that dream come true.

I love planting stuff to this day. Still feel excited when I see those first sprouts emerge. I have had many, many big vegetable gardens over the years that brought me much enjoyment but these days I just love flowers. I love planting all kinds of flowers and having them there by the door to greet us when we come and go. I love it in the spring when the wildflowers carpet our fields and roadsides. I just love flowers anywhere and lately have gotten much pleasure from photographing them every time I see one that just takes my breath away. They bring me such joy and an appreciation of how much God loves us to surround us with such beauty.

Trips Down Memory Lane: Summertime in the 1950's

As any kid who appreciates a break from school, I loved summer. To me it meant: going barefoot; playing games like baseball, jacks, hide and seek, freeze tag, hopscotch, four square, and jump rope; the ice cream man; putting on neighborhood plays; slidin’ on the porch; riding bikes; swim lessons at Alamo Heights pool; playing in the sprinkler; outdoor barbecues; catchin’ lightning bugs; checking out books from the Bookmobile which would visit our street and reading lots of Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew, and other wonderful books; playing house, school, and library; and fun family vacations in Estes Park, Colorado. How very wonderful it was to have the freedom to be a child and have lots of time to play!

Though I had no brothers or sisters, our San Antonio neighborhood was full of kids near my age. It was a wonderful neighborhood of big shady trees and yards, a street going up a slight hill, lush green carpet grass, and the village (a small shopping center with a dime store, drugstore, grocery store and hardware store) just a few blocks away. It was an exciting day when we had received our allowances and could walk to the village to buy trinkets and candy at the dime store. And special treats for me were when my daddy and I would walk to the drugstore soda fountain where he would get coffee and I would get a coke (and get to drink the tiny bottle of cream that came with his coffee). Times were good then. We knew all our neighbors and everyone watched out for everyone else’s kids--I knew I was as likely to get in trouble and punished at Linda’s house as my own. It was a safe time. We could ride our bikes within a six block radius of home by just saying we were going to ride bikes. We could walk to the village without a grownup. There were alleys behind our houses and two vacant lots which provided more places to explore and play. The whole block--and more was our playground.

Air conditioning was new then and most people only put them on in the late afternoon through suppertime. The rest of the time the windows were open so there was no advantage to staying inside and us kids could not wait to play outside as soon as we could. We would usually start off the morning by playing a game of baseball--we could play for hours. I loved it! Usually we used our driveway and the next door neighbors back yard which kind of blended together and gave us plenty of space. But we were pretty flexible and could make a baseball diamond just about anywhere. When we were hot and sweaty from that we would turn on a sprinkler and run through that to cool off. Or sometimes we would “slide on the porch”. Our back porch had three sides to it and was coated with very smooth green polished cement. We would clear the porch of all the lawn chairs and stuff, turn on the water hose and get the porch all wet, then sit on our knees and push off from one side, and slide on our knees on that slippery wet cement to the other side of the porch and push off again. It was so much fun---but it did finally take a toll on our knees and get them a bit sore so it was not something we could do everyday.

After lunch, in the heat of the day, we would play jacks on somebody’s front porch. I absolutely loved to play jacks. We would play all afternoon--going through all the sets: pigs in the pen, crack the egg, around the world, egg in the basket, and numerous more versions that I cannot remember right now. Sometimes we used the rubber ball that came with the jacks but mostly our favorite ball was a ping pong ball or a golf ball. I wish I had someone right now that would play jacks with me. It was such a fun game.

Goodness, there is so much more I want to tell you but will stop for today. God, thank you for blessing me with such a marvelous childhood.

An Idea

When I first decided to blog I had hopes that maybe I could get my older grandkids to join in and it would be a way of connecting with each other’s lives and just getting to know each other better. So far that has not happened but I decided that I am going to post some blogs written mostly for them--just windows into my life, what my life was like as a child, thoughts to share, stories of their parents as children, etc. Then a close friend sent me one of those “Do you remember” emails listing things from our childhoods that have disappeared for the most part. It just gave me a good jumping off point of things to talk about in these blogs which I shall title “ Trips Down Memory Lane”.

Two Prayers

I wish I could express my heart in prayers as eloquently as these are written but the requests made to God are my same yearnings, my same struggles so I felt they should be shared with others. They were written by Denise Glenn, the author of the Bible Study: Restore My Heart that I am doing with other women at my church.

Lord, today I throw open the gates of my heart. I pray that Your love may come rushing into it, so I might really receive the good news of Your acceptance in the deepest part of my being. Please take down all the barriers in my heart that block Your love. And then I pray, Lord, that my love-saturated heart might pour itself out today on the waiting world. All this I pray in Jesus name. Amen

Lord Jesus, I come before Your throne today admitting that in myself, I can’t consistently love unconditionally, be full of joy in hard circumstances, or be at peace in the middle of chaos. Often, I don’t have a quiet and gentle spirit.
Lord, I give up on my own attempt to “be good”, and I ask that you take control of my life. Let me get out of the way, so that Your life can flow through mine unhindered. I accept the adornment of Your life gracing mine. I want Your gentle and quiet spirit expressing itself through my life. Lord, break me, melt me, mold me, fill me with Your life alone, that I might be adorned with Your character and Your life. In Jesus’ name. Amen

Rambles on Spending Time Alone

I have learned that I am an introvert. I never thought of myself as one before as I love people and being with others. Yet, when truly thinking about it I realize I should not be surprised at this discovery. I have always enjoyed my time to myself. I much prefer to shop alone (not that I don’t also enjoy a fun window-shopping time out with the girls) but I am a looker and studier of what is out there and when I am with others I always fear I am boring them or frustrating them--especially my husband who thinks shopping is going to the store with a purpose in mind, getting it quickly and departing. He is a hunter, I am a gatherer. He would rather have all his teeth pulled than to go shopping--especially if it is for clothing for himself. I, on the other hand, like to take my time and look at things, go off and think about it, and come back and look again. I guess it is good I just enjoy my own company. Now, if I could only remember to talk to myself only when I am home alone…….
When I am cleaning house or working on a project I like to just be left alone and get it done. Sometimes I want loud praise music or sixties tunes playing and sometimes I want only quiet but rarely do I want the TV on and I like having the house to myself. I just want to work til I drop and not have to stop to prepare meals, talk on the phone, run to town, or deal with any other interruptions. Then when the job is complete I am back to being sociable and gregarious.
I find that I recharge best by having time alone. I love it when all the family is gathered at our home, when we travel to spend time at their homes, holiday craziness, and going on mission trips and serving on disaster assignments across the nation with Red Cross. But when all these come to a close I need time to myself to refresh and reload. And sad to say, I am not very nice until I have this time. It is just that after travels or family events I need time to sort through my feelings, get my normal (what is that??) life back in order, get back to a routine, just get my mind and psyche organized. Then I am ready to continue on.
So……this is why I have been at the ranch alone for a little over a week---it is a great place of serenity and refreshment. It is ultra quiet and peaceful here--you feel it the moment you get out to unlock the ranch gate. I love it here. At first, Don was a little surprised and sad that I wanted to come here a few days alone before he came down. But I think he has discovered that he has enjoyed his quiet, uninterrupted time at home alone as much as I have enjoyed mine here. We talk on the phone multiple times a day and even email each other which is really neat--like we were dating again. In fact, this week I went back to MF for my Bible study and we met for supper. Yea, it is kinda weird but really kind of nice. You see, we spend LOTS of time together and especially since the beginning of the year--we have been on 6 different Red Cross disasters and a mission trip to Haiti. We drive a feeding truck for Red Cross which means lots of long working hours and driving together in very close quarters and living in a motel room for three weeks at a time. It can get pretty stressful at times. We really do work well together but we are both very strong willed so it can get touchy at times. Thus, after traveling all over Texas during the Texas floods I was desperate for some time to myself. It has been so great to be out here at the ranch….except for the sadness of losing Sadie. But now I am eagerly looking forward to Don coming here and spending time with him on the ranch. There are never ending projects to be done and we enjoy just being out here together and part of the Fredericksburg community. It is such a friendly, solid, wonderful, historical, interesting small town. God blessed us so much by leading us to this ranch. What a blessing it has been to others, as well. Thank you, Lord.
Another reflection on enjoying being alone: I was an only child raised by older parents (they were 40 and 44 and had been married 20 years when they adopted me) so much of my childhood was spent alone. This probably contributed to my enjoyment of time to myself. I loved to read, to plant things, to be outdoors, to tend to animals, and to daydream. It was lonely at times and I yearned for sisters and brothers--probably why I had so many kids of my own--I did not want them being lonely like I had been. I did have a wonderful childhood with many kids in our neighborhood and friends from school. And my parents were loving and wonderful--I was truly blessed.
I always wanted a houseful of children and succeeded in that endeavor by giving birth to three, adopting 4, having numerous foster children live with us, and helping raise two grandchildren. My cup runneth over--how incredibly blessed am I. And I got to home school many of them for 13 years. Life was certainly full for me. But I must say having time alone was nearly non-existent---going to the bathroom alone was even difficult…..But by the grace of God, I made it, though I am sure some refreshment for me might have made it easier on everyone else……Just wanted to point out to myself, and others, that possibly all this is to say why I relish my time alone so much now. It is so nice to have time like right now--quiet, only birds singing and the hum of the fan can be heard, and I can sit at my computer and think and recollect and compose my thoughts and get them down on paper. Just time to reflect on life. Time to read my Bible and talk uninterrupted to God, to sit by the creek and take one more picture of its quiet beauty, time to walk and listen, to relax in the hammock and watch the Hummingbird battles over the feeder, time to organize my Red Cross papers, my bill box, my recipes, photos on my computer, to sit on the porch steps and drink in the serenity and beauty that surrounds me along with my cup of coffee, to chat on the phone with a friend, to read a good book, or to take an afternoon nap after a long morning of mowing, to watch the baby goats play “King of the Mountain” on the picnic tables or watch the cow butt my chair into the creek(I had very thoughtlessly placed a chair under a big tree by the creek so I could sit there and enjoy it BUT I placed it right on the cow path which the cows thought was quite rude of me).
All this was to say, it has been wonderful to do what refreshes me the most and I am so very thankful for such a wonderful, understanding husband and for such an awesome place as this tranquil ranch. Thank you, Lord, for loving and blessing me so.

Sad Farewell

We have an old horse who has been “out to pasture” here on the ranch for over 10 years now. When Jenny was 11 she and I bought Sadie at the auction in Round Mountain and Sadie was 16 years old then. This last year has been very hard on her--we could see her declining and winter was harder on her this year than in the past. But once spring came she started looking better and was putting on weight. The grass out here is outstanding with all the rain we have had since spring began--best it has ever been. So we did not worry about her not having enough to eat. We had been away from the ranch since the end of May so I was very shocked to see the poor condition Sadie was in when I came to the ranch last week. I fed her, then it began raining and she took off for the barn. So I called the vet to come out and check her--he comes out every summer and gives her shots and floats her teeth so they can chomp the grass better. But for the next two days she did not come down to the creek for water. This is not unusual as when it rains there are plenty of puddles that provide her water up on top where she likes to roam so it is common for her not to come down as much when it is wet. Because I was so worried about her skinny condition I went searching for her but it was raining so much last week and so muddy that there were lots of places I just could not walk to. On Saturday my friend, Alisa, came out to the ranch and we decided we would really comb the place and find her. We walked an hour and a half before we found her laying down in very bad shape. There was no doubt in our minds she needed to be put down. It was just so heartbreaking. I just felt so awful and guilty that we had not checked on her sooner--that we had just let us think that because the grass was so plentiful that she would be well fed. I just felt like I was an awful steward of the life that had been entrusted to me. I was filled with sorrow and remorse and sadness over losing her. I know she was old and her time was up but why this way. I guess I just wanted her to lie down and die in her sleep someday and not get sick and weak. I wished I could have had the courage to put her down myself instead of having to call Don to come down. All three of us cried over having to do this. I am just so thankful that Alisa was here with me--that I did not find her alone--that Don had the courage and strength to do the right thing. And I just miss her--I miss her coming to the ranch gate each night and banging on it with her foot to let us know it was time for her dinner. I miss seeing her come to the creek and go right to the spring and drink of that cold water coming out. I miss how she used to come down and neigh loudly back to the cows to hurry up and catch up with her--she loved to hang out with the cows. But I am thankful that she had a good long life and such a beautiful place to live out her final days. She might have been a cantankerous, stubborn, old horse but we all loved her deeply. I am so grateful, too, that last spring, summer, and fall she was spoiled and pampered to no end by Sarah, Jacob, and Jonathan (my “adopted“ grandchildren) who were living on the ranch then. We shall all miss her.