Sunday, December 31, 2006

Morning after a steady drizzle!


If we did not have all the rains,
the moss would not grow on
my Galla Rocks. The Lord helps
us be thankful for sunshine by
sending long rainy days.

In turn, those rainy days

are treasured after a dry spell.
He sends sickness so we can be happy
with good health. Sadness so we can
celebrate the good times. We have to
go deep into the dark valley to understand
what it feels like in his "light".

If we had everything, we would not be thankful for anything.

Today, I lift up my Lord and give him Praise!

"Peace, be still".

Another "water fall"!


Yesterday it rained nearly all day. Part
of the time the sun was out brightly in
the drizzle. Mom always said if it rained
and the sun was shinning it was the
Devil's birthday so I guess he was born
Dec. 30.

Friday, December 29, 2006

Garland County, AR


I took these at a rest area in Garland County, AR
AR is the center of the United States.
There can't be a state with any more beauty than ours!

Thursday, December 28, 2006

New Truck


We have been shopping for a new truck. We
sold the one we bought in 1992, December
15. Yesterday, we bought this one at Allen
Tillery Chevrolet in Hot Springs, AR. It is
a simple, regular cab V 8 engine truck.
Posted by Picasa

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Charlotte's Web--Author


This is the letter that Mr. White wrote before his death about his three books for children:
Dear Reader:
I receive many letters from children and can't answer them all -- there wouldn't be time enough in a day. That is why I am sending you this printed reply to your letter. I'll try to answer some of the questions that are commonly asked.
Where did I get the idea for Stuart Little and for Charlotte's Web? Well, many years ago I went to bed one night in a railway sleeping car, and during the night I dreamed about a tiny boy who acted rather like a mouse. That's how the story of Stuart Little got started.
As for Charlotte's Web, I like animals and my barn is a very pleasant place to be, at all hours. One day when I was on my way to feed the pig, I began feeling sorry for the pig because, like most pigs, he was doomed to die. This made me sad. So I started thinking of ways to save a pig's life. I had been watching a big grey spider at her work and was impressed by how clever she was at weaving. Gradually I worked the spider into the story that you know, a story of friendship and salvation on a farm. Three years after I started writing it, it was published. (I am not a fast worker, as you can see.)
Sometimes I'm asked how old I was when I started to write, and what made me want to write. I started early -- as soon as I could spell. In fact, I can't remember any time in my life when I wasn't busy writing. I don't know what caused me to do it, or why I enjoyed it, but I think children often find pleasure and satisfaction is trying to set their thoughts down on paper, either in words or in pictures. I was no good at drawing, so I used words instead. As I grew older, I found that writing can be a way of earning a living.
Some of my readers want me to visit their school. Some want me to send a picture, or an autograph, or a book. And some ask questions about my family and my animals and my pets. Much as I'd like to, I can't go visiting. I can't send books, either -- you can find them in a bookstore or a library. Many children assume that a writer owns (or even makes) his own books. This is not true -- books are made by the publisher. If a writer wants a copy, he must buy it. That's why I can't send books. And I do not send autographs -- I leave that to the movie stars. I live most of the year in the country, in New England. From our windows we can look out at the sea and the mountains. I live near my married son and three grandchildren.
Are my stories true, you ask? No, they are imaginary tales, containing fantastic characters and events. In real life, a family doesn't have a child who looks like a mouse; in real life, a spider doesn't spin words in her web. In real life, a swan doesn't blow a trumpet. But real life is only one kind of life -- there is also the life of the imagination. And although my stories are imaginary, I like to think that there is some truth in them, too -- truth about the way people and animals feel and think and act.
Yours sincerely,
E.B. White

I'm No Annie!

This is Dardanelle Rock! I took my camera
along in my purse and look what happened.
There is only one Annie. It was too dark
and my little cheap camera could not brighten
the dim. Dardanelle Rock is the next point on
the AR River after Galla Rock. I used to think
these rocks were flat rocks where the ships docked,
but I have learned the rocks were sight points that
one could identify. The early river travelers used
them as points of reference. Annie, is there a
"little" rock that distinguished your town? I have
never seen the "little" rock and I would like to!

Monday, December 25, 2006

1959


Barbara and Richard


Richard Powell and Barbara Trantham were
married December 25, 1959 marking 47 years
together today. The older picture of them was 1972.
Fleta sent me some pictures Cheryl shared with her
when they married but I can't find them now. I
am wondering where they got married and who
preformed the ceremony. I hope someone will
tell me!

Blog Glob~!

The new blogger system has a blog glob
monster. If you get it and you post a
picture, the glob may eat it. The blog glob
lives off of pictures stolen from blogs on
google. He has been eating Annie's pics
and Dot's and mine. He has not been to
Chicken Ridge yet to eat Patsy's pictures,
but I bet he will go there soon. After he
eats your photo all you can see is a red
X where he has been!
Be Careful out there...he's coming!

Sunday, December 24, 2006

Silent Night


Ingrid sang Silent Night at church today.

She was great but my camera is cheap and

would not take a good photo in the dark church.

Sweetest Sister!


Generation to Generation













Genes pass from generation to generation.
I know from Aunt Thelma to Fleta to Laura
to Mackenzie to Bill to Austin
to Robert to Hannah.
I think red hair ran in the Maples, Cooper,
Gaddy families. These are maternal lines
in our family. I love the red!




Saturday, December 23, 2006

Dec. 2004

The folder this picture was in said I downloaded it
December 24, 2004. I think I took it the same
day so I guess we had a little snow in 2004 for
Christmas.
I have never liked snow. Growing up if it
snowed, I did not GET to go to school and I
did love school and all my friends there.
I still don't really like cold and snow. I never
liked playing in the snow and snow ice
cream tastes like pet milk with sugar and ice
to me. Larry loves snow ice cream and he
introduced it to his girls and now Laura has
fixed it for her little ones. This Christmas I
am thankful for my old "Powell" family
and my new "Renfroe" one. I am blessed and know it!

Friday, December 22, 2006

Eeeek! Snake!



I am posting this for Dot. It was
taken out behind our old barn.
There was a hill behind the barn
that was an old rock quarry. Maybe
that is why the snakes loved the
area. This was a big black snake.
He probably got fat off the mice
that ate the cow feed in the barn.
I was not as brave as sister, Fleta!
She held the thing up for a photo
shoot. Our brother Richard would
grab the snakes alive and snap them
like a bullwhip and their heads would
pop off!
We were little wild children
growing up down that red dirt road!

Ark rock

I think this is part of Noah's Ark
here by Galla Creek!




Thursday, December 21, 2006

Sharing!

I have to share my Grandgirls with
other Grandmothers. This is their
Great Grandmother Merle. When
they went to visit her in Nebraska, she
asked Ingie what her other grandparents
were doing in Arkansas--Ingie said,
"They are crying because we are not there!"
And that was true. The girls are away for
two days now and Pop and I are very sad!

Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Galla Meadow's Past




The acreage we own on Galla Creek is
worn out cotton land. Brother Richard
taught me that if one sees Pine or Cedar
growing the soil is poor. The bottom
land of Galla Creek was purchased after
the railroad came to Arkansas. I think the
MO. Pacific RR got a mile wide strip of land on
either side of the RR's path, including Galla Meadow.
Galla Creek heads on Crow Mtn. and runs to the
Arkansas River. A Mr. Bradley bought 1000s
of acres here from the RR and our little eden
became known as Bradley Cove--Crow Mtn.
surrounds Galla Meadow on all four sides.
Bradley grew cotton with slave labor
and wore out our Galla soil--now Cedars
and Pine trees sprout up to mourn its past.



Tuesday, December 19, 2006

Monday, December 18, 2006

Solitude

I like my time alone.
See the light in my window.
I am having several strong cups of coffee
reading several blogs, posting to two, collecting my thoughts,
reading my paper and filling in the crossword--just enjoying solitude!

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Leaves, Leaves, Leave!


While the Christensen girls and I

Romp and play on rocks on Galla Creek.

Pop tries to rid the yard of leaves.

Sometimes he bags them and puts them on the Garden.

Sometimes rakes them away to a ditch.

But easiest way to get rid of leaves

Is just burn them!

The ground has to be wet

Or we might have a forest fire!















Saturday, December 16, 2006