STRANGE BEDFELLOWS

No, no, I'm not EVEN going to compare myself with the great King David, but he really fascinates me the way he handled multitasking.
You think you're busy? Check out the accomplishments of David. David was a shepherd, a poet,(I write a few), a prophet(I even do some predicting), a hero, a king, a soldier, a commander-in-chief, a statesman, an administrator, a musician, a leader, a devoted father,and a sinner.(I can relate to that one) He even invented some musical instruments. These are great accomplishments for one man's lieftime in any era. Pretty amazing man.
David played the harp for King Saul. There's musical talent in our family, but I didn't get any. Tom does say I'm good at harping though.
There was one tiny episode i experienced that was similar to David's. It also dealt with a sling shot. No, I didn't slay a giant. Years ago when Tom & I were first married, I walked to the back yard to see what he was doing. He had a sling shot and was attempting to shoot starlings off fence posts. He hadn't hit one. I said, "Let me see that thing." I picked up my first smooth stone and placed it in the sling shot. A starling flew overhead. I drew back and shot. The bird fell to the ground.
Tom said, "Kay, go back in the house."
This was one time, I'm sure David and I shared the same feeling. After a shot like that, we'd better hang up our sling shots.

COMPARING 2011 FLOOD TO NOAH'S

God authorized Noah's flood, not the Corp of Engineers.
In Noah's day, they had never seen it rain before, we've experienced a few floods.
They did NOT fill sand bags back then.
One 8 inch rain did not a flood make.
This flood gave us about 3 weeks warning. Noah's flood had about 100 years warning and they still missed the boat.
God sent the water for 40 days and 40 nights in Noah's flood, not all summer long.
Noah notified the animals. The Corps did not. Yeah, the animals were smarter than the people, they got on the boat.
Noah sent a dove to check for dry land. We will send a helicopter.
Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord. Let's hope we do.

TO CONGRESS FROM KAY GIBSON

I would like to pen and render a citizen's bill that has NO pork barrels attached.
I'd like to suggest the next president, whomever he or she may be(further known as he) make some cold cuts immediately. Instead of going hog wild on how much more he can spend on inauguration parties and how high on the hog he can get redocorating the White House... chop this expense in half. If he did this, he might just convince the people his is serious about cutting the fat.
Congress: Let me suggest you NOT chop away at Social Security and medicare. Don't slaughter your own people. Do squeal on Medicare fraud because it is happening. By all mean, wean those off welfare and take the meat away from the illegals. Let them grze on their own and not wallow in our citizen's benefits.
Charity begins at home. Cut the strings of the silk purse to overseas and turn it back into a sow's ear. We're sending billions of our little green piggies overseas. Butcher foreign aid. Those who run those foreign governments are fattening their own pockets and the rest of the people are living in pig stys. Huffing & puffing at our own citizens is not the answer.
I won't boar you any longer with my grunting. Yes, this is a roast, I'm not ribbing, and you can take that to market.

CHINESE NEW YEAR

On February 3, 2011, the Chinese New Year began. This is the year of the rabbit.
Rabbits are lucky. So if you are married to one, dating one, or know one, just pet your rabbit's foot and maybe some of their luck will rub off on you.
The rabbit is a symbol of the moon. So on a nights of the full moon, hop on out to your garden, and while you're nibbling on lettuce leaves, visualize moon dust falling on you and flowing through you. This is not to say all you bunnies out there are loony, but becoming so could be as easy as skinning a rabbit.
The Chinese do not see a man in the moon. They see the moon rabbit, standing near a rock, under a Cassia tree, holding the elixir of immortality in his hands.
The year of the rabbit happens every 12 years. The other animals of different years are the tiger, ox, rat, pig, dog, dragon, snake, horse, sheep, monkey and rooster. I think I was born the year of the dragon, cause I've been draggin' ever since.
Have a good hare day.

BLACK BIRDS

Four and twenty black birds baked in a pie, four and thousands of black birds dropped from the sky.
When the first four thousand black birds fell in Arkansas on New Year's Eve, it was thought perhaps fireworks could have been the blame. since more have fallen in other states and other countries, they are searching for another cause.
I could have been the weather; perhaps lightning or a hail storm.
It could have been noxious fumes.
It could have been old age.
It could have been a sonic boom.
It could have been power lines; flying too low.
It could have been the apocalyse. Maybe so, the general symobolism of the black bird connects it to ever lasting life.
It could have been a disease hitting them; like West Mississippi disease or something.
Maybe there's a world wide black bird mafia that is wiping them out.
Peasants actually used to eat the European black bird. Maybe groceries have gotten so high that folks are trying them again.
The black birds have been symbolic of the struggle between good and evil. Maybe evil is winning.
The black bird has been seen in paintings as foreshadowing of death. Maybe this is a warning.
Here are many possibilities to choose from Make your own choice.
OR..... maybe it was just their time to go.

THE LAST HUNT

My Dad started me hunting mushrooms when I began to crawl. Being low to the ground like that, I never missed a mushroom. I've been hunting them ever since. Occasionally, I'm still crawling; possibly up the side of a canyon because I spotted a couple morels near the top. Or maybe across a log over a swollen stream because I saw a patch on the other side.
But as the years go by, I begin to wonder: will this be my last year to hunt? My back tells me I'm getting older, but my brain says, "No, you're not." Alas, one day it will happen. I won't be able to go mushroom hunting. What a sad year that will be for me.
You all remember the poem, "I Must Go Down to the Sea Again" by John Masefield? The title is actually "Sea Fever", but it's best known by its first line. I've copied John's idea and written my own poem about my last hunt.

I must go up to the hills again, to the towering hills and trees.
All I ask is a mushroom patch, and me on bended knees.
A sunshine day, a thrasher's song and me still a picking.
With life not rushing me along and the clock not a ticking.

I must go up to the hills again, for the call of the gypsy wind.
For April in our corner is the call of an old friend.
All I ask is a mushroom patch, and me picking for hours.
With Dutchman's Breeches, Sweet William, Violets and all the woodlawn flowers.

I must go up to the hills again, it may be my last climb.
All I ask is that mushroom patch and a field sparrow's chime.
Just one last huge patch, who could ask for anything more?
Let memories linger in that patch, when my mushroom hunts are o'er.

THE MYSTERIOUS MOREL

As soon as the warm, wet days of spring arrive, our family's favorite sport is not baseball, turkey hunting, or crappie fishing. It is hunting the morel mushroom.
Now I realize most everyone is this area are seasoned mushroom hunters, but I've decided to give away some of my secrets about the mysterious morel.
There are preliminary preparations to ready yourself for mushroom season. After being holed up through our long, cold winters, you have to regain your mushroom legs. You need to start a walking program long before the big hunt. After all, you may have to walk for miles to find a morel. It's possible you may have to scale a 40 foot bluff because you spot a couple of morels near the top. Or you may have to walk a log across a swollen creek because you sighted a patch of morels on the other side. So it's important to be ready for the aggressive hunt.
Of course there are the "still" hunters. These folks walk to a preferred location, sit on a log, and wait. You need a good ear for this type of morel hunting. As soon as an ample supply has popped through the leaves, the hunter simply picks them and goes home. However, sometimes, this could take all day long.
Some people hunt with a mushroom dog, which points and barks when he finds a patch of morels. These dogs are certainly handy to have, but I've noticed they are shy around people other than their owners. A friend of mine hunts with a dog, but I've never seen Duke in action.
I found this excerpt in "The Journals of Lewis & Clark": "Jun 19th, 1806, (Peter) Cruzat brought me several large morels which I roasted and ate without salt, pepper, or grease. I had for the first time the true taste of the morel, which is truly an insipid, tasteless food."
I believe if the boys would have had some our local cooks prepare them, they would have enjoyed them much more.
I had a cousin(from Florida) once tell me one of her relatives found a mess or morels, and they were full of bugs. I immediately was astonished and told her how hard that was for me to believe. All the time, I was wondering to myself, "Did she not know why we use lots of pepper on morels when we cook them?"
I don't know how many states have morels, but I know they can be found in Arkansas, Tennessee, Missouri, Kansas, Iowa, Nebraska, Michigan, Washington, Idaho, and Alaska. Wouldn't it be fun to pick them both day and night in Alaska?
If anyone ever needs a mushroom guide, just give me a holler. I'm always ready to go. I'll dig out my decoys and my favorite mushroom call.