And They Called it Puppy Love

One morning in the recent past, I went out to feed our three labs and found only the two boys; Our 10-year-old female, Cocoa, had sneaked out under the fence.

I walked around to the side of the garage so that I could see to the back of the property, and lo and behold, I sighted Cocoa strolling side-by-side with another brown lab, a male. I have always criticized Disney for romanticizing their animated films, but I have to admit that this was a scene right out of Lady and the Tramp. I laughed it was so bizarre. Cocoa strolled right past me, gave me one look that said, "You understand, don't you?", and strolled right into her pen. We never saw Loverboy again. . .until yesterday.

I was assisting Nathaniel as he converted our old pig trailer into an eggmobile, when I heard an odd mewing sound. I investigated and found Cocoa licking Loverboy Jr.

"I'll go tell Emma," Nathaniel said. Emma is our official midwife from when we had a full complement of farm animals in Louisiana. Her only downfall is that she adores bottle feeding so she is not as supportive of the newborn's attempts to nurse as she could be. Once there is a hint of trouble, Emma starts calling for me to buy formula.

So anyway, Emma hurried out to the birthing shelter and began her ministrations to mother and puppy while Nathaniel and I continued our work on the trailer. After a couple of hours, in which Emma recalled with gruesome detail every stillborn birth that she had experienced, Cocoa birthed a little female. "She's very weak," Emma announced, and conjectured that the rest of the puppies might be born dead and maybe even green with rot. "She's taking too long," Emma said. "Remember what happened when. . .?"

"Stop it, Emma!" Nathaniel shouted across the yard. He can't stand to hear that kind of stuff. We didn't hear any more for a long time. I went to check and found Emma asleep in the hay with Cocoa and the two puppies.

This event sure brought back a lot of old memories. Here's an e-mail journal entry from February 1998:

We went shopping for Mel (our pig) this morning and got her a beautiful new blue feed bucket and 100 pounds of SuperHog. She had destroyed the plastic pan that we had used for her first meal in two shakes of her piggity tail. We will all have to start wearing some kind of plastic coveralls when we visit with her since she is so fond of snuffling us all over. I'm not sure I enjoy affection from a 200-pound hog, but the kids can't get enough. Emma told me Saturday night, "I love our pig best of all." Then she promptly burst into tears and wailed, "Why do we have to kill her and the chickens?" I had a very good explanation for that which I followed with a bribe: "After Mel goes to the butcher, we'll get a baby pig to raise. And you know what else you have to look forward to? I comforted. "Someday Genevieve (Emma's puppy and Cocoa's sister) will have puppies."

Emma drew in her breath sharply and her eyes refilled with tears. "And then we're going to eat them?" she sobbed.

Genevieve is reminding me more and more of E. B. White's dog Fred. She gulps life--leaping in the air one moment, grabbing a chicken by the tail the next. She has determined that the best way to get to know another animal is by scarfing up its poop. She got her first smackerel of pig poop this morning and declared it ambrosia. She relishes rabbit pellets, chomps chicken chit. Amid her revels she pauses and looks at Cocoa as if to say, "Come to the cabaret, old chum."

Genevieve died last year. How I miss her!

Like Queen Guinevere, We Go A-Maying

Now it befell upon a pleasant day in the spring-time, that Queen Guinevere went a-Maying with a goodly company of knights and ladies of her court.

After the May crowning at church, Emma and I drove a little over an hour west of Houston to New Ulm for a May Pole party deep in the country. We had been invited by Emma's new friend, Lisa H., whom we met, along with her charming husband and son, at Animal Farm the weekend before.

Unfortunately, we had been bereft of our menfolk all weekend. Nathaniel had left on Friday to spend the weekend golfing and bowling with friends. Herb had had to work on the Rebuild Together Houston project on Saturday and decided to go to lunch with his Schola buddy on Sunday. So we girls were managing the best we could without knights.

Upon arriving, Lisa greeted Emma and bestowed upon her a giant bag full of all kinds of different wool: Shetland, Romney, Brown Suffolk, Angora, Coopworth, Alpaca, Black Mountain Welsh,Gulf Coast Native, and even some cotton and silk. Now Emma refers to Lisa as "my friend and benefactress."

Next Lisa introduced us all around, and Emma discovered a kindred spirit in another homeschooled 15-year-old, Lucia, who also loves to spin and sew. They quickly dragged out their wheels and set up shop on the front porch.

Soon it was time to sample the picnic supper that was laid out in the little house. Restored, we ventured to the May Pole where music books were passed out to all who were not dancing. While the dancers weaved in and out of the colorful May Pole ribbons,

we sang rounds of lilting folk songs with the accompaniment of the hostess's son on guitar. We learned a lovely song that I have hummed happily all day:

Let the wealthy and great
Live in splendor and state
I envy them not
I declare it.

I grow my own rams,
My own ewes, my own lambs,
And I shear my own fleece,
And I wear it.

I have lawns.
I have bowers.
I have fruit.
I have flowers.
And the lark is my morning alarmer.

So you jolly boys now
Here's godspeed the plow
Long life and success to the farmer!


Later, we all took a walk through the woods, around the pond, and into the lush meadow.

The day was exceedingly pleasant with the sunlight all yellow, like to gold, and the breeze both soft and gentle. The small birds they sang with very great joy, and all about there bloomed so many flowers of divers sorts that the entire meadows were carpeted with their tender green. So it seemed to Queen Guinevere that it was very good to be abroad in the field and beneath the sky at such a season.


We ended at the zip line, where we spent an hour laughing as the riders whooshed through the air, over the water, and back onto the land. Lucia and Emma picked posies while they waited their turn.

Then Emma climbed the big ladder and zipped through the air.

Twilight was setting in when we finally gathered our belongings, bid our fond farewells, and drove away, sadly, to the east. We took courage though, when we remembered our noble knights, who would be awaiting our return.

We Crown Mary

with a wreath of flowers

and carry her proudly, singing hymns and praying the Rosary,
through the streets




and back again.

Fathers Turn Their Hearts to Their Daughters

I used the Catholic Bible, Douay-Rheims version, when I needed to quote the Bible.

The CHARIS homeschool home economics group closed the school year with a sparkle by hosting a Father-Daughter Banquet on the evening of May 2 at Moss Hill Pentecostal Church. More than fifty fathers and daughters filled the church hall to honor their relationship and feast on ham, green beans, pasta salad, tossed salad, rolls, potatoes, and a delectable variety of desserts.

Mr. Dwayne Sisk welcomed the attendees to the night's festivities. Remarking how blessed he was for the privilege of raising daughters and being able to homeschool them, he encouraged the fathers to turn their hearts to their daughters.

After the meal, Miss Rebecca Sisk, the young lady who organized the home economics group, recognized the mothers who had helped her present the lessons and gave them each a gift box of Ghiradelli chocolates. Over the course of the school year, the monthly lessons included jam making, bread baking, table settings, a Christmas tea, sewing, and cake decorating. The lesson on table settings was done in the context of setting the tables for and serving Thanksgiving dinner to the residents of the Dayton Retirement Center.

Mr. Sisk then introduced Paul Renfro, the pastor of Grace Family Baptist in Spring, TX. Renfro's talk began with an overview of the situation in which Christian families find themselves today. He explained the importance of the Christian family and how it has been targeted for destruction because it is the only thing preventing communism (in its many forms) from completely overtaking the country.

Pointing out how entertainment and the government schools are used as lethal weapons in the attack, he instructed the fathers to protect and guide their daughters--to preserve their innocence and build a close relationship with them. By building this kind of relationship, the father will elicit in each daughter a strong desire to please him and honor his decisions for her, Renfro said.

He talked about "dating" as a means of daughters finding husbands on their own and asked, "I don't think it's been too successful, do you?" Instead, he asserted that daughters need their fathers to guide them. Renfro challenged the fathers to plan their parenting with their future grandchildren and great grandchildren in mind.

"What is the purpose of a daughter?" he asked. "She is to be a helpmeet," he answered, going on to explain that fathers should prepare the daughters to spread the kingdom of God by teaching them to love children and encouraging them, once they are married, to have a large family. "Do you know what the second most popular name in England is now?" he asked. "It's Mohammed.

As in Proverbs 31, Renfro encouraged fathers to ensure their daughters learn everything necessary to manage a household well and suggested helping them start a small home business.

In concluding his talk, Renfro related the Genesis story of Rebecca. He invoked upon the daughters at the banquet the blessing that was given to Rebecca when she left her home to marry, "Thou art our sister, mayst thou increase to thousands of thousands, and may thy seed possess the gates of their enemies."

The evening closed with happy chatter as the fathers and daughters mixed and mingled and talked of upcoming camping trips, 4-H events, and summer vacation plans.

Father-Daughter Banquet a Dream Come True

I feel pretty, oh, so pretty!
I feel pretty and witty and gay,
And I pity any girl who isn't me today!

I feel charming, oh so charming.
It's alarming how charming I feel
And so pretty that I hardly can believe I'm real!



Emma's preparation for the home economics group's Father-Daughter banquet began at noon with a trip to the hair miracle worker, Stephanie Mason. Emma emerged later with an elegant braided chignon. At 5:30 she donned her dress, and Herb surprised her in the kitchen with a stunning wrist corsage made of five green-tinted roses, green tulle, sheer black ribbon, and small black bead accents. A light dusting of glitter hinted of the magical evening that was to come.


On the front lawn, Emma worked determinedly until she succeeded in pinning on Herb's boutinniere, a single green-tinted rosebud accented with the sheer black ribbon and small black beads.

Herb chose the ribbon himself, refusing to be swayed by the florist. The beads were the florist's idea, but he liked them.














Even going through the buffet line, the smile never left Emma's face.



After a lovely evening and a long ride home, Emma described the event as her "first date and prom" and was so excited that she could not go to sleep until after 1 a.m. This photograph shows her pretending to be dead tired.

On a Sea of Grass

Nathaniel reads of the gallant deeds of Horatio Hornblower in C. S. Forester's Hornblower During the Crisis.

From the NLS Minibibliography website:

"In 1927, C.S. Forester purchased three volumes of The Naval Chronicle from 1790 to 1820. For the Chronicle, officers of the Royal Navy wrote articles on strategy, seamanship, gunnery, and other professional topics of interest to their colleagues. The Chronicle for those years covered the wars with Napoleon. Reading these volumes and traveling by freighter from California to Central America allowed the germination of the character Horatio Hornblower as a member of the Royal Navy in the late eighteenth century." Read the complete article here: http://www.loc.gov/nls/bibliographies/minibibs/horatio.html

Ascension Thursday

Grant, we beseech Thee, almighty God, that we who believe Thine only-begotten Son, our Redeember, to have this day ascended into heaven, may ourselves dwell in spirit amid heavenly things. Through the same Lord.