The Shed Where Trotsy Lived

 

We only had about an acre of land that our humble home sat on. It was enough. Our back yard had an apple tree, a peach tree, and a persimmon tree that not only shared their beauty with us, but their fruit, as well! Most years there was an abundance. More than we could consume, so often times neighbors would stop in to gather bags of fruit for themselves. 

The Honeysuckle vines that lined our yard gave off an enticing fragrance that beckoned us to indulge in the sweet nectar that came from its blossoms. The picture you are seeing here, however, was, in the beginning, a small "play house" for our girls that later became a shed for a very important animal. It sat on the East side of our front yard (within viewing distance of my first ever business) and was never meant for the long-haul. We decorated it up with a window box positioned just beneath the fake window covering, appearing to be a protector of the window that wasn't really there. A functioning cover that could be opened and closed with ease, but we never did that, because, welllll....there was no window. I just liked the look. Clever. Right? 😁 And of course, it couldn't be complete without the old hanging shovel and pitchfork framing it. I loved this old building, once it had weathered and looked centuries old. The first (and last) building Dennis had put hard labor into building. I would tell him what was in my head, that I was certain we needed, and he would carry out my wishes to the best of his ability. That hasn't ceased over the 50 years of being married.

The old shed didn't get a lot of use, until our Meg received a gift that caused her heart to understand more fully what love really looked like. And that was the time we added an extension to the building that would be called "home" to this new found love. Must have been somewhere around 1995-96. Meg was only 11, possibly 12 years of age, at the time. The surprise gift came in the form of a horse. A very beautiful horse! More specifically, she was an Appaloosa horse that loved a good butt scratch So commanding of ones presence. And now we were faced with a challenge of where, in the small part of the world we called home, were we to put this beautiful creature. There was only one place to consider, really, and we knew it would have to be temporary at best.  Never in a million years would we expect something so...big, to take up space in our less than spacious front yard. 

Taken after Trotsy was finished with it...🤣

Beings this "pet" was a wee bit larger than the common dog, cat, hamster, or bird, she did present a dilemma. So...we asked father-in-law Denzil, and brother-in-law(s) Danny (was Jim there, too?), to help us build a fence around the East side of our yard where the shed (aka play house), stood. They added a lean-to that circled around to the back, so Trotsy would have a place to get in, out of the very cold winters we Oklahomans experienced. Rarely did a year go by that snow and ice didn't stop by for a visit and dump their contents onto us. Some years, we would wave the snow plow in, on its way into the city, just to dig our cars out from under the carport. Which, by-the-way, bent with the weight of the wet snow, as it packed itself onto its roof. Those were the years Dennis had to grab the trusty ladder and shovel some of that weight off. Nor was is uncommon for our yard to have a layer of ice spread from one end to the other during the winters chill as it blew through our part of the state. So, we did need a place to protect her from the cold as best we could. The lean-to was more of a surround-around ground-level porch, including a low step-up in which to keep her hay and grain dry. Dennis also made her a trough to eat from and we purchased a big galvanized container to water her. She was all set.

So many stories could be written about Meg's beautiful Trotsy, but not today. I only wanted to give my readers a tiny taste of what our lives were like in Oklahoma. It was our home for 39+ years. It was where God placed us, with purpose. I remember Dennis and I holding hands on the last day there, as he offered a prayer of thanksgiving for God's provision in the home he provided us to raise our treasures. Our girls. It was a bitter sweet moment, as more than a few tears were shed. But...the only constant in life is change, right? And God's love for His creation. That never changes either, and He promised me he would be wherever I found myself to be. We depended on Him then, and we depend on Him now, in the place we've called home for the last 11 years and 3 months. It's been said that home is where the heart is. And our girls, our heart, chose North Carolina when they became adults. So....

Leaning into memories of years gone by, here you will always find me...in Mary's World.

🎶You Make It Feel Like Christmas 🎵

Dennis and I are coming up on our 47th year as husband & wife. December 14th, 1974, was when it all began. That's more than a few years! In all of our "disagreements" (let's be real...ARGUMENTS), we have stuck like glue to each other. We've never given up on each other. It's true that humanity is broken, at best, but that doesn't mean there is not a whole lot of good in us.

Just a few days ago, someone very close to me, said, "I don't like Facebook because most of it is lies. People create posts and  pictures of themselves that leads one to believe they are so happy, and in reality, they are miserable." 

I get it. I really don't want anyone thinking otherwise of me, either. Do you? But, I have never believed anyone that has told me they have a perfect marriage, never disagreeing on anything, always happy. The simple truth is, we don't become strong without challenges. We don't learn to truly love another, without weathering the storms that can change a person in the blink of an eye. Dennis is my rock, even when we don't like each other. I depend on him as much as I depend on myself. Some things I must weather alone. I must deal with my own insecurities, my own weaknesses, my own imaginations. Yet, I know he will always be there for me at the end of my battles. Even THROUGH my battles. And he can always count on me to be the stone around his neck. WAIT! Uh...what I meant was that he can always count on me to weather whatever storms he must face, by his side. Around his neck...😉😂

Some years ago, after our girls had both moved to North Carolina, I allowed a melancholy spirit to attach itself to me during the holidays. I didn't want to decorate for anything. There seemed to be no reason for festivities. I remember one particular Christmas I voiced my discouragement with the putting up and taking down of decorations. I didn't want to. Didn't see the point. It was just me and him. My rock said, "But I enjoy it. And so do you, once we get it all up." That gave me purpose. Knowing that, yes, there was still someone to enjoy the holidays with, and he was right there in front of me. He makes it feel like Christmas.

Now, we have a couple of grand-girls that put a lift in our steps and a twinkle in our eyes. They more than make it worth climbing up and down on ladders, circling a Frasier Fir Tree numerous times while stringing lights, garlands, and ornaments. Not to mention the smiles we get from our girls, now women with their own families. 

Our oldest granddaughter, Reagan, helped with decorating this year. She's 5, and is the most patient little girl this Grams has ever seen. Patient with her Grams wanting everything perfect. But it is with only a look from her, and the ornaments I don't particularly like, goes on the tree because she wishes it. Expensive glass balls she handles with such care. Less breakable ornaments, she finds a "perfect" spot for, and beaded garlands she loves to trail behind her as she walks/runs around the race track in our home that she is so accustomed to as a baby learning to walk, then run. She makes it feel like Christmas.

Love is a choice. Happiness is a choice. We forget that, sometimes...

Happy 47th year of counting it all blessings when various trials come your way, DW. You make it feel like Christmas.

Still loving Christmas, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.