rancherwriterpoet

Poetry, musings, reflections, life

Archive for the tag “seasons”

The Making of a Marriage

Much has been written and voiced about Marriage.  Max Lucado said, “God created Marriage. No government subcommittee envisioned it, no social organization developed it. Marriage was conceived and born in the mind of God.”  I’m pretty sure I could not improve on that.

I can, however, add these words. New Year’s Day does not usher in marriage, the Easter Bunny does not hide it to be found at a later time; Santa Claus does not put it under the Christmas tree, nor is it some patriotic theme for the 4th of July, although Cupid may be somewhat involved around St. Valentine’s Day.

But it is a cause for celebration. Marriage is much more than words. It comes with the desire of a woman and a man to blend two different lives into one. It comes with the awkwardness of learning to adapt, to compromise. It is like kindergarten, like learning to share what previously was not necessary. These steps cannot be forced upon the marriage partner. It is an innate quality in each individual that determines the future of the relationship, characteristic of a defining fascination between two persons.

To the naked eye, this writing does not seem to be much of a romance story. But it is and it is my story. As I sit and write this for publication, I want to inform the world that it is indeed a romantic look of my adorable spouse. Circumstances beyond our control brought us together. The loss of our previous spouses left a void in both of our lives and I am grateful to God for bringing us together and filling those voids.

On this day, May 15, nine years ago, two became one, not by accident, but by design. God, The Creator and Ultimate Designer set in motion the wheels of romance between the “Rancherette” and the “Rancherwriterpoet”. Among the pines of Central Arkansas, near Hot Springs, in a little log cabin, with a minister for the ceremony and his wife and their dog as witnesses, we exchanged vows and became Mr. and Mrs.  The moment we tied the knot was truly spectacular. And I share our Ninth Anniversary with the world.

The first time I really knew she was for me was when we met in Barnes and Noble. She was in the romance section and I admired her from the map section. Our eyes connected. We met and shared coffee at Starbucks inside the book store. After our meeting for the first time we strolled through the mall, where she purchased a set of coasters for her house. We went for lunch at “On the Border” restaurant. Then we took a long walk through a small park not far from the mall. As we strolled along the path, talking, admiring the early winter scenery, wondering about how quickly the day had passed, our eyes met and then our lips touched. What a moment of excitement and then came the Pomeranian.  You may be wondering about that Pomeranian, well, you will just have to keep wondering. Although I love dogs, I am not a fan of Pomeranians.

If She Were:

If she were a season, she would be Spring. With the blooms of flowers and the multitude of plants she has meticulously introduced into our landscape everywhere, she has beautified our surroundings. And as with her flowering creations, she enriches my life with her beauty.

If she were a rose, it would be a welcome addition to any garden, truly a rose garden. As petals fall, new stems produce new buds and she is like a new bud bringing forth a pleasing rose in my life. I could say she is my Yellow Rose of Texas.

If she were an automobile, she would be a red Corvette. Who cannot admire sleek perfection? The elegance and style of a Corvette would only be enhanced by her own elegance and style. She brings that elegance and style to my life.

If she were a deep blue sky, she would be admired by the whole world, for who cannot be happy with a deep blue sky. I see a blue sky every time I look at her.

If she were a bird she would be the songstress of the air. Singing beautiful songs of endearment would be the sounds I hear.

these are only a few words about our marriage. I could go on and on, but I think you get my meaning; It is the epitome of love. It rings true and is most welcome in my life. I would not have it any other way.

God does indeed provide opportunities to fall in love. I took advantage of one such divine circumstance nine years ago and so I say:

Happy Anniversary to Jennifer, the “Rancherette” of my life. I love you.

 

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HAPPY NEW YEAR

I awoke this morning to a dastardly chill in the air. When I went to bed last night (long before the New Year arrived) it was 24° and expected to drop even further. Now my friends in the Northeast may be saying, “What’s your problem with 24°?” Well, I live in Texas where it is possible for one to experience four seasons all in the same day, depending upon which part of the state you reside. Me, I’m in North Texas and I can tell you we are in the winter season. It is cold at 24°.

So, when I did finally awake at the distasteful hour of seven a.m., the temperature had dropped to 18°. The weather prognosticators have this saying, “remember the five P’s. Protect People, Pets, Pipes, and Plants. Sounds like good advice to me.

Since out here on the Fuzzy Chicken Farm, we have a motley, hodgepodge, eclectic order of a pack of dogs, a gaggle of geese, and a flock of chickens, we must prepare them for a cold winter’s night.

Now the CEO of the Fuzzy Chicken Farm, i.e., “the Rancherette” , has some significant notions about the feathered friends. Of course these poultry participants are grouped according to their gender, (illegal) the color of their feathers, (illegal) their nationality, (illegal) and the number of toes, (I think illegal)). Because of the grouping, some (those that have crests that cover their eyes), require more attention than do others. (Probably illegal). Me, I just call them chickens and run the dogs.

The dogs are protected from the elements with indoor kennels and radiator type heaters. Earlier this week I wrapped all the outside pipes and placed the fragile plants in the garage, (except the pineapple plant, lost it to the freeze) and prepared all the coops with windbreaks so as to protect the birds from the wind chill. Inside the coop buildings are radiator type heaters that will keep the temperature above freezing. We have outdoor pens as well. These birds are of the more hardy breeds and require less maintenance. Their pens also received windbreaks.

So this morning, at 18°, the “Rancherette” and “the “Rancherwriterpoet” ventured out in the frigid temperature to soothe the birds, calm the dogs and appease the geese. Did I fail to mention the first two P’s in the order of P’s, was to Protect People? I wore long Johns (where did that name come from?), layered my clothing, put on my gloves, and set out to the task at hand, with the “Rancherette” tagging along behind me, saying, “It’s not too bad out here”. She is not native to Texas, she comes from a distant land, Memphis, I think. Tennessee not Egypt. They think differently in Tennessee.

Calming the dogs is a more difficult task. They run freely each day outside their pens and they like it when it is cold. They don’t want to come back to their inside pens, preferring to romp wildly about the back spaces. Of course, it takes them longer and I get colder. The geese are quite adapted to cold weather. They like to swim in the pond even at this cold temperature. I could not appease them this morning. They could not swim today, so they ice skated. But, I was cold. The outdoor chickens did not seem to mind the cold either. However, it was impossible for any outdoor animal to drink water this morning. I had to change out all the waterers due to frozen conditions. That made me even colder. I suppose if I had feathers or fur I might not be so cold.

The temp is expected to stay in the middle twenties until the latter part of this week and people will ask, “what’s going on at your place,” . To which I will say, “Oh, nothing much, I am cold.” To which my friends in South Florida will be agreeing with me. I can say, unequivocally, I am ready for the next season to enter North Texas. Winter has lasted long enough. In the meantime I will be lounging around in my long johns in the warmth of my recliner. It is a New Year, the sun is out this morning, and I hope each of you have a healthy, prosperous and A Happy year ahead.

I Feel a Little Poem Coming On

I thought I would post my last entry for the year, 2014, with a poem. I ask this question; What is it about the seasonal changes that seem to affect our psyche? I do not know, maybe you do.
The title of this poem has absolutely nothing to do with the contents; I simply liked the wording. So, with apologies to the gospel group “Three Bridges”, I borrowed the title from their song, “I Feel A Little Song Coming On.
Anyway,

I Feel a Little Poem Coming On

On this cold and gloomy morning,
The last few days of the year,
I stand gazing pensively,
from my front door across the pasture.
I see a few cows milling about,
Seemingly, with nothing on their mind
except eating the grass beneath their feet.

Brown grass withering amid patches of green
that sprang up after the fire,
like emeralds leaping from a lifeless painting.
Four hedge apples remain on the leafless branches
of the grand old Bois D’ Arc tree.
Three clustered together, one hanging alone, pitifully.
It is a lonely tree, standing dejected, sadly.

In the distance, the waters of a pond
Shimmer languidly from the wind.
Oblivious to its shrinking circumference
Unaware it is on the brink of disaster.
The drought has taken its toll.
Passing from summer to autumn to winter,
leaving spring far behind.

Outside my window a handful of Cardinals
flutter about pilfering from one another
any tidbit or crumb they find on the ground.
A murder of crows sit atop the Bois D’ Arc tree,
Omnivorous creatures, their eyes darting back and forth.
A Red Tail Hawk soars in the sunless currents above,
while his keen eyesight focuses sharply below.

The creatures of the insect world
Have long since relented to hereditary instincts
It is the changing of the guard.
As I stand before my window of opportunity
I witness the inevitable transformation
That once more rises to the forefront of life
And I am in awe.

Pete Robertson
© December 2014

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