Life of ranchers wife, veterinary technician, mother of deceased child, aspiring writer entrepreneur and English woman living in America.
Born and raised in England, where I worked as a shepherdess for one of the largest sheep dealers in the country at that time, lived in Australia for one year on an 8000 acre drycropland/Merino sheep ranch, travelled to America where I met my husband to be, after going through a grueling immigration process moved to Oklahoma permanently in 1993 been here ever since with a few refresher courses back in England every now and then.
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My husband has hunted wild pheasant and quail birds for many years. It all stared when he was about fourteen and someone dropped off a male, Brittany bird dog at the ranch. This abandoned bird dog was the beginning. As the years followed there were good dogs and others whom were sold on. The dogs that were kept hunted on instinct alone. There was no regimented training, only the desire and drive they were born with.Two much admired and dogs which are m...
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When Bad Things Happen.
Apart from “being” English, I write, speak and think in English. (Ask someone who is bilingual, what language do you think in? They will hesitate before they answer, their not always sure what language they think in.)
By using the written word I am able to express hope, emotion loss and a whole lot more. By reading, I can escape into other worlds. I love Westerns and especially Louis L’Amour.
By writing a word on a page and expressin...
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A good, Good Friday, or just another day of the week.
When meeting up with friends how many times have you been asked? “How are you?” You, like me I am sure have readily answered. “Great, fine how about you, what have you been up to?” Answering the question and diverting the conversation away from you, all in one self-serving sentence.
Having succeeded in diverting the discussion away from ourselves and our problems, have we truly done ourselves any favors?...
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I have just finished reading A Tale Of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. I found it difficult to read. the first third of the book stumbles along, the second third trots and the last third is a flat out gallop making the previous two thirds worth all the trouble. but you have to stick with it! There is a very good story in their witha somewhat predictable nature, but having it all come together is satisfying and eventually a good read.
A Tale of Two Cities is a bit like life, it...
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Here we go again! More snow dropped over night. Another 20 inches!
I am so ready for some warmer weather. The cattle seem to be holding off on calving, we hope!
Here, my husband is clearing out the feed troughs before we give the cattle an extra feed.
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Basic Instinct
This is a photograph I took of our cattle. (Replacement heifers.) Eating, after eighteen hours into a snow storm which lasted twenty four hours.
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As parents how many times have we come to our children’s defense? I’m sure you didn’t count as I didn’t yet the answer is the same. As many times as was necessary and we would do it all over again.
Whether we are fighting a disease of known origin or circumstance a loved one finds themselves in, as parents our first and only instinct is to protect. To protect you must use your voice, when it comes to protecting others my opinion is often...
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The recession has wrought havoc throughout the whole country. A recent incident caused no doubt by the sad state of the economy, brought this crisis to our neighborhood, which has affected many of us in different ways.
For me ideas resurfaced which I had previously (or so I thought) dealt with or ignored as best I could. Thoughts which were always just that, thoughts!
My husband and I would occasionally visit a nice restaurant not too far from where we ...
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I was at my local grocery store the other week, doing a quick shop for milk and cookies; you know the real necessities of life. As I was heading to check out. I walked towards the, no more items than this # isle. When a ten or eleven year old boy with dark hair and equally dark eyes suddenly stopped in front of me and sat on the floor at my feet.
“Mum, Mum.” He said. “Come to this line, there’s no one here.”
He said all this...
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I sit here looking out my window as large, almost weightless snowflakes gently drift towards the ground. The wind lifting them first this way then that. Until their final destination is reached, be it the roof of the house, the wood piled by the sliding glass doors, or the steps off the front porch making decent potentially treacherous.
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