Sunday, Uncategorized

Elijah cont. BE HUMBLE

Today we sang with the adults before sunday school.  Noble and Dignity were not there yet and Puddleglum was with his Grandma for the day.  He was going to Grandma’s church and then the child would go with his great uncle fishing out on a boat.  That left Yuri and Periwinkle under the Farmer’s care.  We sang “Jesus Loves Me” and followed it up with prayer then finished off with “Go Tell It On the Mountain.”  Farmer sat at the piano and pressed the key for the beginning note.

From there we went and sang Happy Birthday to Dignity.  Violet came down from the upper class to one hand Happy Birthday for us.

Obviously, the Farmer needs to think of a way to get the kids piano lessons.  (Anyone want to buy any books?  Look for C. C. Farmer on Amazon.  Every 25 cents helps.)

Once again we prayed before we started class.  Our prayer consisted of “Dear Lord, before we get on youtube, please don’t allow us to see any inappropriate advertisements.  Amen.”

And yes our prayers were answered. Since it was my Anne account there were only documentaries.  I did feel awkward because I had my Dairy Promotion Team as my background.  I guess I was thinking that since I am in God’s house with my computer I was opening my soul or private life to the kids in my class.    Anyways I apologized for stating that a bull was at the table with Jezabel.

bull eating

Then we watched a youtube video.

After which we turned to Matthew 18. And we read parts of the chapter and talked about steering clear of temptation.  I used the example of an animal sanctuary.  If I drove by it everyday I would bring home animals, therefore to keep myself away from temptation I would take the few minutes longer route and stay away from the temptation.

We talked a bit about how to let the Lord take vengeance and resist “teaching the other person a lesson.”

Then we hurried and cleaned up, had a quick snack and hurried over to the sanctuary for Grandparents Day.

During the service guess what happened?  Dignity stood up and sang a song that blew me away.  Gorgeous voice.  Gorgeous.  Then guess what bible verses Pastor L read?  Yep it was from Matthew 18.  Be Humble.  Be Humble. Be Humble.


Random, Uncategorized

Babysitting Orphan Kittens ep. one

The Day Three Kittens Came episode one.

The day after Queen Mom read a FB post on how the animal sanctuary closed in Wellsboro, Mama Cat went splat on the road at Empress Granny’s house.  Queen Mom had a house to clean, four children to feed and a tortoise that was long overdue for some attention.  But with the animal sanctuary closing and the fear that Empress Granny would either lose her mind or turn into the neighborhood Cat Lady, she offered to take the kittens for the weekend.

Princess Rose was overjoyed.  Princess Lilac was not sure.  Prince Reuben was excited, for he had named the yellow kitten Shine.  Prince Lindsey gave a how to care for orphan kitten commentary while reading “Big Nate Comics”.  Queen Mom was hoping that the kittens would keep Princess Rose from getting into trouble while she accomplished her to do list and that her loving, kind, sweet, manly, genius, not fond of any animals in the house other than an obedient dog, precious and forgiving husband would be able to cope with them for the weekend.


Queen Mom was hoping that the kittens would keep Princess Rose from getting into trouble while she accomplished her to do list and that her loving kind, sweet, manly, genius, not fond of any animals in the house other than an obedient dog, precious and forgiving husband would be able to cope with them for the weekend.


To Be Continued……..20170520_090528 (1).jpg




poem Persist



book review, Hero, Love An Author, Uncategorized

HOEDOWN with Misty Simon

There are days where I almost cry because I spent all my book money.  Here is a book that is going on my wish list and it’s not just because of the title.

  • Ivy Morris Mysteries – Hoedown Showdown

With the Tasty Tomato Tournament just days away, the small town of Martha’s Point is all abuzz. This is the first year without a sure winner, and the competition is fierce to gain the judges’ approval, even before the tournament starts.

But when Ivy finds one of those judges dead in a shed across the street, things go from bad to worse. All she wanted was seven glorious, kid-free days of messing around with her husband. Instead, she’s going to be tracking down a killer, staying out of the way of a pickle-obsessed farmer, and dodging the new cop who seems out for her blood.

Rating: Spicy


“Myrt,” I said patiently, as if talking to a small child. “First of all, this wasn’t the tomato crusher. It was Judge McIntyre.”

I didn’t even get to the next part since she started wailing. “Oh, my stars! I’m never going to win the Tasty Tomato Tournament now! It’s the fiftieth anniversary, and I wanted at least one chance before I die! And now I will never win this! I’ll be a dead woman long before I can ever show my face again in the tournament! And this was supposed to be my year!”

Not only was that a lot of exclamation points, but she also dragged the last word out until it sounded like a cat dying. I tried to calm her down by settling my hand on her shoulder. She shook me off while dropping her cane at her feet. With a ton of creaks and cracks, she knelt down beside him and started babbling about how sorry she was.

“I don’t think you should touch him.” I said this while definitely keeping my distance. I did not want to touch him more than I already had. To be honest, it had been some time since I was involved in anything more than feeding and playing with my kids or running my store and being a wife. Occasionally I would help Ben with a case or two in his work as a private investigator, but it was more paperwork than anything else. I did not want to even know what had happened to the judge, much less who had done it. Ben was not going to be pleased. At all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. McIntyre,” Myrt said with her face close to his, her hand patting his chest. There was a crinkling noise, but she was still talking. “So very sorry. When Irma died last year in her sleep after winning her forty-ninth straight tournament, I thought I finally had a chance, and now I hit you, and I’m so very, very sorry, and I can’t believe I mistook you for a burglar.” She twisted her hands together like she was wringing out a dishtowel. And she was going to draw blood if she continued biting her lip in between babbling some more.

I had few choices right now. I have to admit here that I had no desire whatsoever to call the police. I didn’t want to be involved in things. I had plans this week. This was not going to keep me from swinging from the freaking chandelier if I could.

Of course, I could go across the street and call from the house, or have Ben call and then remove myself from the situation altogether. But that would be completely unfair to Mrs. Crandall.

I couldn’t help myself. I let out a scream that would have brought down an opera house, something between frustration and fright because, at that moment, something furry ran against my leg before shooting into the bushes.

In the end, the decision of what to do was taken out of my hands because the police came tearing up in the one marked car in town, screeching to a halt at the curb. A man in uniform was out of the car before I could blink again. And I’m glad I didn’t blink because I would have missed the way he jumped from the car and then did a forward roll across the front lawn as if he was in some crazy-assed shootout.




Twitter: @MistySimon

Buy Link:

Author bio: Misty Simon loves a good story and decided one day that she would try her hand at it. Eventually she got it right. There’s nothing better in the world than making someone laugh, and she hopes everyone at least snickers in the right places when reading her books. She lives with her husband, daughter and three insane dogs in Central Pennsylvania where she is hard at work on her next novel or three. She loves to hear from readers so drop her a line at



Love An Author



Bat in the theater or how I peed my pants.

Yes, I am undecided on the title for this memoir. I suppose I could combine the two and verbosely state, “the bat flew through the theater causing a ruckus and while doing so, I, of four natural births  and not enough kegels, peed my pants with laughter.”

Saturday evening in the Warehouse Theater dressed in black with orange trimmed sneakers I set about singing Bosco Bits advertising while Grace played the accordion   Then onto my part of Koren Van Broont and various sound effects.  That night we were were on.  The audience was dying of laughter even before our little creature of the night visited.  For we were performing a radio drama adapted from Washington Irving’s short story by Anthony E. Palermo.  This live performance had twenty of us, including the director Mr. Gabe, and excluding the bat.  During the first half of the performance the bat did two circles and vanished into the dark recesses of the Warehouse Theater.  In fact, some of the crew didn’t even notice it.  During the intermission, I chuckling said that it would come back during the second half.  Oops.

The scene where Ichabod and Brom set to out wit each other with scary stories got a whole lot more interesting.  The bat came back.  Unlike the first time he entered, he swooped to the back of the set and made a few small circles, round and round.  The two youngest girls were the first to loose composure, and then, poor Brom, or well the actor playing Brom, whom I like to say stayed in character even when frightened as the bat flew inches from his nose.  He was trying to say that there was no vat at Karl’s Mill but instead my ears heard no bat.  There was no bat at Karl’s Mill, and that was where I lost it.  I turned my back and tried to gain composure but by that time the tears were streaming and the kegels were of no help.  The speaking actors were ducking and scrambling away.  Although, the gentleman who worked at the local vet clinic had a gleam to his eyes.  I later heard him remark that he wished the bat had landed beside him and he could have ended the show dramatically.

Mr. Gabe, the director. was able to call out with smooth suaveness, something that sounded close to “Break in Studio B.  We will be right back in a moment” and  allowed everyone to loose their composure for a good laugh and to go back to work.  He guessed that music might scare the bat off and he was right. He played a few strands of dark classical with a short announcement that the show would be starting in a few seconds, we went back to the performance.  What a wonderful audience we had.  Laughter and good wishes abounded.  I love radio shows and that night’s performance will go down as one of my favorites if not the favorite.  A great chance to work with talented neighbors and be with my daughter doing things we love.  I will never forget the night when a bat made an appearance during the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow and stole the show.  Although I do have to say, I am glad it happened in 2016 because if he had come the previous year during Dracula, I wouldn’t have peed my pants because of laughing.