“In the neighborhood” … the Holy Brethren Church carries on in the the ghost town of Elberton … under a blanket of smoke from Pacific Northwest fires.
Wordless Wednesday – All That Remains
Tag: photography
Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.
Wordless Wednesday – Wonder
This is the original post I had scheduled for today, but I’m finding it a hard day to stay Wordless.
I live in an area hard hit by the Pacific Northwest fires.
I’m sitting here wondering about this newborn that we recently stumbled upon in a recent jaunt into our beautiful region … I’m wondering if he and his mother are safe. My heart hurts as I think of all the wildlife in Washington, Oregon, and California displaced and terrified.
I’m wondering about our friends on the west side of the state where fires have encroached into suburban neighborhoods. Friends have had to evacuate … the school where I used to teach is threatened with a fire burning all around its neighborhood. With an unheard of hot and windy day in the forecast for this time of year and that area, those who had to leave aren’t likely to know the outcome for some time.
I’m wondering about the tiny community just 20 miles from us … Malden … that is suddenly known by everyone in the country. A until-now-nameless, sleepy town lost 80% of their homes and buildings … the fire department, city hall, community center, library … all gone. You’ve probably seen pictures of the devastation in the news. These are our friends … our extended community … our reason to set down what we’re doing and help.
If you are a praying person, I thank you for praying. It’s overwhelming … I know. So much to pray for this year … but in our small town, most of us are the kind who believe that the cataclysmic events of this year are best handed over to the hand of Someone who can give us the strength to continue on and the peace to know that we can overcome.
I guess at that … I am wordless and speechless … for now.
Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.
A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.
Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly
Wordless Wednesday – Family Time
Who knew beavers were so affectionate. I’ve been watching this little family all summer.
Who knew beavers were so affectionate. I’ve been watching this little family all summer.
Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.
A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.
Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly
Wordless Wednesday (A Little Late)- Stare Down
Who’s watching who? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.
When you thought you hit the “schedule button” but didn’t, you get to choose between having a tardy post or waiting until next week to look all organized. I’m going for the tardy, product-of-an-eclectic-mind approach. Enjoy a little Wednesday on Thursday!
Our cats invest hours of each day observing the doings at the bird feeder just outside the window from their perch. One day, I caught the birds staring back.
Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.
A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.
Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly
Creating Space 2
It felt so good to organize my office and creative space that I had to write a post about it. Part I is here.
A place to write, craft, think, read, pray, pay bills, listen to music, read old letters.
A place to be interrupted.
Every day … every night … everywhere … here’s Sophie. Her cat attitude insists that no space meant for inspiration has any worth if she’s not at the center of it all. Darn cat … elusive when we initiate affection … demanding when she feels that she’s being ignored. I once had a 15-year-old in a lit class compare the temperament of a cat to that of his girlfriend in the same terms I just used. I hate to think it … but he was spot on in describing women in general. (Not all women, of course!)
Sophie is a high maintenance feline. She’s a talker and a clinger but NOT a cuddler.
To balance her out, we got her a playmate. This is Simba.
Sophie was not impressed with our choice of companions. It’s been six years … still not impressed. I won’t go so far as to say that Sophie hates Simba. I don’t think cats lower themselves to hatred. Disdain. That sums up Sophies attitude for that “other” cat in our house.
I should insert that My Guy and I kinda get Sophie’s point about Simba. We love him, but he’s not especially affectionate either, unless you are willing to put in 8 hours a day scratching his head. That’s it. You can only scratch him behind his ears and under his chin. He has a stealthy way of tricking you into thinking that you can pet him all over … then WHACK! He scratches you in half of a blink, and he has a high batting average for drawing blood.
Dang cat.
We get our revenge with the red laser light. Forever … he’ll run and chase that light, leaping into the air, burning calories by racing from the kitchen to the living room. Jokes certainly on him though … we know and he apparently doesn’t … that he’ll NEVER catch that red spot.
When I first started blogging, articles insisted that it was good to write about anything that interested me… anything except CATS. “Don’t fill up your posts with photos and stories of your cat. You’ll bore your readers.”
I don’t follow rules well.
But … this is a post about organizing a creative space and having a peace of “normalcy” in the mild of a pandemic and daily political tensions.While it’s fun to distract myself with cat photos and stories, I really have no excuse to not get back to work on projects. My button jars are glaring down from the shelf … urging me to plan ahead rather than wait two weeks before the holidays, when people start contacting me to see if I have any more cows or trees. (Maybe I need to add cats this year.)
As I think about how much I love having a crafting/creating space all to myself, (almost all … don’t forget Sophie) a few things occur to me:
- I was browsing through Pinterest today and realized that several years ago I started saving ideas under “Craft Room”. The Pinterest versions and my results are vastly different and not necessarily in a good way. Oh well.
- My Nikon takes much better photos than my iPhone. I’m sure you can tell which is which in this post.
- I find crafting with buttons to be very relaxing. I am not a natural born artist (if an artist at all) and know that my pictures find their charm in nostalgia (these are OLD buttons … not your typical crafting buttons) more than talent, but there’s something about filtering through hundreds of buttons and forming them into something interesting to look at. It’s like putting together a jigsaw puzzle.
- Sophie wants me to finish up this post and check her food bowl. Most likely she can see the bottom … a major source of alarm in our house.
Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs sites that I keep. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.
A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.
Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly
Garden Confessions
I have a confession to make.
I do not like gardening.
But I like gardens.
It’s complicated.
I like planting things … watching them grow … anticipating color and edible results … taking credit for beautiful flowers and crunchy vegetables.
It’s the weeding, watering, battling bugs part and then wondering what to do with all this green stuff My Guy won’t eat … that’s where the complications come in. I’m also not a fan of being in the garden on windy or wet days … a must do around here if you plan to get anything started in the Spring. Guess that makes me one of those fair-weather variety of gardeners.
HOWEVER …
In a Covid-stained world, a garden … something alive and bright … feels more important to me than my discomfort, so I battled the “Ugh’s” and set to it. Another motivation has been the bareness of our yard. When we moved in, all that broke up the monotony of yellowish green lawn (Can you call it a lawn when it’s made up largely of weeds?) was a smattering of daffodils and orange tulips along the front porch that our landlord kindly planted prior to our arrival. Oh, and two stubborn hollyhocks survived the town maintenance crew’s attempt to recover alleyways by spraying down weeds.
So … short on resources and green thumb magic, My Guy and I have set about adding color and texture to the place. The yellowish green weed-lawn still is the most prolific thing that grows, but you could say that we’re coming along.
Pause button.
There’s one more confession needed here before I share more pictures. Living in a rural community, I am surrounded by amazing gardens and gardeners. Some of them have been kind enough to let me photograph their gardens. I won’t post those pictures this time, because the confession is that these amazing gardens have brought out the competitive side in me.
Maybe it’s a little nicer to myself to say that they have inspired me. The point is, I could never compete with these master gardeners or the settings in which their gardens grow. So, to not distract from our meager accomplishments, I’m not going to post those pictures this time. Yes … this means that my efforts are pitiful next to there’s so I’m not going to highlight it more than necessary at the moment.
I should explain the backdrop. Those buildings are not our yard. We live in what I like to call the Theater District. The light-colored building is the back of a historic theater that has been restored as a sort of preforming arts theater. (Yes, we like performing arts in small towns too.) COVID has ruined the 2020 season so we’re hoping that we can see it get back on its feet in 2021. The brick building is being restored into a community center. When we first moved in, all the windows were boarded up, so we’re loving the transformation. We’ve planted some apple trees (apple sticks, at the moment) to blend into the view from our vantage point. 
It’s going to take a long, eternity-like, long time to create something as serene and awe-inspiring as these garden whizzes around here. It’s fun though, making it our own.
Three Last Confessions:
Garden gloves are for sissies.
I lied about garden gloves … I don’t use them because I’m too lazy to hunt down where I threw them last … even though I own a Costco-load of gloves.
I will put on gloves if it means plucking slugs off of plants … and full disclosure … I have been known to huck a slug barehanded over the fence a time or two. I was aiming for the alley, but with my aim and the ickiness of a slug against my skin … well, I may or may not have populated the neighbor’s garden with a few extra slugs. (Disclaimer: this was my OLD garden back in the city … we do not have slugs here … thank God!)
the yard is of full of flowers I did not plant. Of course!
Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.
A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.
Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly
Wordless Wednesday – Curiosity
Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my thought&faith blog at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.
A note to my “silent” readers … thank you for taking the time out of your busy day to read my work. I’ve learned that many of you are shy about commenting or hitting the like button, but I want you to know that I appreciate your visits and invite you into the conversations whenever your ready.
Wishing you peace in all things … Shelly
Wordless Wednesday – Viewpoints
Viewpoints at sunset
Thank you for reading “Small Stuff”. This is the second of two blogs. You can find more on my “Thought Blog” at rashellbud.wordpress.com. Wishing you a beautiful day full of the Small Stuff that transforms life into BIG STUFF.
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Sheep and Stuff Like That
You could say I live in cattle country. Actually, it’s wheat country … farmers proudly boast of the highway signs that announce our county as one of the largest wheat producing regions in the nation. When it comes to livestock however, you are most likely to see cows and horses in pastures … and here and there, a few sheep are scattered about… usually for County Fair or 4-H projects … rarely more than a half dozen or so. Oh, and llamas and alpaca’s … we’re seeing them around more and more as well … but this is a blog about sheep.
Large flocks of sheep are not the norm, so My Guy and I were impressed when we rounded a curve and met with this view.
The sight compelled us to let up on the gas pedal, roll to a stop, and climb out of an air-conditioned car into more-than-warm heat to watch and … even more, to listen. Listening is the key here … these guys could ratchet up some noise … bleating … bawling … noisy children vying for attention between gulps of grass.
An odd thought occurred to me …
Sheep have been maligned.
Yup. It’s those darn “sheeple.
” Sheeple”. With political tempers flaring these days, just about everyone, it seems, is labeled a “sheeple” … the dig is meant to suggest that one doesn’t have a mind of their own. I think people really mean to call their opponents “lemmings” but instead it became sheep … you know, those mindless sheep.
However … trust me … sheep have minds of their own. These guys did. It took three sheep dogs and a hawk-eyed shepherd in a golf cart to keep these baaaadies in line. They had all kinds of ideas about where they wanted to wander and several were clever enough to find a way to that greener pasture along side the road … on the wrong
My brother raised a lamb for a high school FFA (Future Farmers of America) project, and I tell you, that little lamb was clever. He found a way to unlatch the gate of his pen and wander across the street to my grandmother’s back door. I don’t know why, but she fed him cookies (may be why he made weight for the showing), and that little guy remembered those cookies. Every chance he got, he escaped and made his way back to Grandma’s house. He butted the screen door with his head until she answered. Pretty smart, if you ask me.
Sheep are clever, useful (for wool), and cute. And tasty … for those who like lamb chops … but I won’t go any further down that road!
Did you also know that sheep are loyal and tend to have friends? I grew curious and found several interesting articles about sheep. Check out this one. Looks like I’m not the only one to feel that sheep have been given a baaaad rap. (Sorry … it’s hard to resist stupid puns!)
The individual personalities of sheep stood out to me that afternoon.
“Listen to all those voices,” I said to My Guy. “They’re talking to each other.”
Sure enough, it seemed like scores of conversations were transpiring amongst the flock; melodic voices, gruff voices, pleading bleats, sharp reprimands, complaints, humored tones, bossy ones. I was certain that a group near the road was gossiping about the ewe that had slipped through the fence and was happily chomping on grass untouched by any of her comrades.
“Greedy,” her friends seemed to say.
“Just wait! That shepherd dude is about to sic one of those hyper dogs on her,” another retorted.
Sure enough, the shepherd rolled up in his cart and with the help of one of the dogs, had her hopping over the fence pronto and back to the herd.
Listening to sheep chatter, I was reminded of the Bible’s word picture … a sheep know a shepherd’s voice, especially a good shepherd’s There’s another side to that … a shepherd knows the voices of his (or her) sheep too. They are as identifiable as a room full of kindergartners would be, similar, but certainly full of individual personalities.
Modern sheep are bred to not have horns, thus they are not as well suited to protecting themselves, but there was a day that could fend off just about any enemy/predator with sharp horns. They throw a pretty vicious kick so aren’t entirely without protective instincts. Still, sheep are vulnerable, particularly to predators like wolves. They need some protection; guidance is a good thing for sheep too. They’re stubborn enough to wander off until they are in over their heads and fat pickin’s for a starving wolf.
Maybe we disdain “sheeple” because we don’t like the idea that humans might be just as vulnerable as our little, wooly friends. Humans seem pretty convinced that we don’t need anyone to tell us what to do. Not sure it works like that though … something to ponder, for sure.
Share your sheep facts and stories in the comments. I bet there are some great ones out there.
Small Stuff 
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