A 'Dollar' can carry a wealth of imagination and joy

Every year, including this year, I tell myself I’m not going to buy another electronic, moveable, talking, no imagination needed, to expensive gift for a child that right after opening it they toss it a side and play with the box it came in instead. Some how though every Christmas I give in to my adult psyche and buy the too expensive gift. This year was different I followed through on my plan—no expensive, electronic, talking, no imagination needed, gifts.

I’m almost ashamed to admit it— this year I did my Christmas shopping at the Dollar Store for the little kids (ages 2-10). I usually don’t mind shopping at the Dollar Store, I find lots of nifty things, and if I take the time to look, I can even find stuff made in the USA. But this was Christmas, and this time entering the Dollar Store, I wondered what people thought. Did they think I fell on hard times with the economics the way they are today? Would they wonder if I’m down trodden and cannot afford anything, because I over extended elsewhere, but something from the Dollar Store. Would they look down their noses at me—then I thought—probably not they are in Dollar Store too; I had to get over the expensive gift stigma.

I walked around the store, un-certain if I was going to go through with buying the children’s gifts on my list—in the Dollar Store. My inner voice telling me, “come on, it’s not right—The—Dollar—Store— at Christmas?
I picked out a few items, put them in my basket, then put them back feeling guilty about the $ amount of the gift. At one point, I even put my basket down and started to leave the store. But something beckoned be back to my basket and I continued shopping.

I tried hard not to think about the price. Would a little kid think about the price when they played with a spinning top, giggling at the colors going around? I thought of one of my favorite gifts I received one Christmas, a spinning top with red, black and white sections, a simple toy that I played with for hours.
I put five spinning tops in my basket.

Surrounded by sparkly razzled dazzle hanging on the wall, I tried to look at the items as a child. I took an action figure off the wall and fingered the small object. If I were a kid, I’m not sure I’d like this. It doesn’t feel good in my hand. I closed my eyes and tried to envision myself as a child playing with this. I decide nope this is not good. But before I could put it back, I hear a small voice.

“Hey Mrs. Lady, what ya doin? What ya got there in your hand?”

I look down at a little boy with huge brown eyes, about the age of four, who I think is a bit precocious, thank goodness.
I respond with a smile, “Well I’m looking for Christmas gifts for nieces and nephews about the same age as you and a little older.”

He spied the action figure in my hand, “They won’t like that. I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t think so; I was just going to put it back,” Slightly embarrassed that I had even considered it.

Hanging the figurine back on the wall, I ask him, “What are you doing here?”

“Chritmit schoppin.”

“Oh do you like the stuff in here?”

“Oh yeth…I like this, and this and this and this. This here is really cool,(he picked up one of the spinning tops) but I can’t have it because dad said Santa is coming soon, so really I am only pretend Chritmit schoppin, picking out all the stuff I would buy me if I were a grown-up or Santa picking out presents for me.”
I blinked my eyes, and thought, wow, what a mouthful for a kid, but holy cow the truth was told.”

I started looking for presents again, but this time I really, really, pretended I was four and buying it for myself. The next thing I knew my basket was over flowing with a load of presents for $50 that would fill five gifts bags to the brim, which made me feel like I had Santa’s own bag on Christmas.

I was at the checkout and the little boy and his dad got in line behind me.
“Hi again Mrs. Nice lady,” He stood up on his tiptoes to see what I was taking out of my basket. “Wow, what cool stuff.”

I smiled feeling as if I had just got a zillion trillion dollars worth of stuff for the best deal ever. OH wait…I reminded myself to leave my four year self in the razzle-dazzle isle and with the squashy, bally, spongy thingys.

I was actually excited about giving the gifts. If this little boy liked them, then I am certain the other children would. Especially the squashy, bally, spongy, thingy, one green, two bluish pink, one orange, and one rad pink, which I played with as I walked through the isles.

I believe Christmas is to commercialized, putting to much emphasis on the Big gifts and drilling in our brains that the most expensive gifts are the ones to buy. Big dollar gifts that make you feel you are special in the receiver eyes thus making us feel better about the debit we made buying a too expensive gift. But does a child know the difference between $1 and $100. NO. What they do know is if you really thought of them and put some feeling in to it. It is something a child can sense.

Standing there now with pride in the dollar store at the wealth of gifts I found, I remembered another idea I always wanted to do for kids at Christmas. I’ve wanted to get big huge boxes, draw on them with crayons, and write the child’s name in big letters, so they can read and point at the letters in their name, wrap that box up and give that as a gift with a box of crayons. It’s an idea born from one of my all time favorite toys I had as child, when I was about five or six. My mom gave me a huge box after she had gotten a dryer or something. I took that box with excitement, made it my own, creating my own little world out of cardboard, and crayons. That box became a house, a castle, a fortress, and ultimately the finest snow sled—EVER. So next year— I just might go for the Big Box wrapped up gift—I think it will be a success. Speaking of success, all the stuff in the gift bags, but especially the spinning tops, and squashy, bally, spongy, thingy’s—were!
The Big Box Gift—definitely an idea I’ll want to keep in mind—I’d better start stocking up on crayons now.
Hmmm what time does the Dollar Store open?

A Falconer A Father

CONGRATULATIONS JONATHAN AND WENDY!
We welcome Scarlett Clarkson to the world!
Jonathan (Interview with a Falconer) and Wendy's little girl, born this week.
May God Bless you all.
Love Kellie

Interview with a Falconer Part III

Welcome back. This is the third and last installment of my interview with Falconer, Jonathan Clarkson.

KMS
Is any breed of raptor bolder than another?

J
Yes —Goshawk’s are very aggressive, and some species of falcons are more aggressive than others. Some falconers like certain falcons over others because of their flight styles. The Red Tail hawk is a very good hunter, plus many like them because of their beauty. It really depends on the falcon or raptor, just like a litter of pups; there are the bold ones and shy ones.

KMS
You spend so much time with your bird, does a bond form between you and the bird?

J
Yes it does, but not as much as you think…we (falconers) all kind of want our birds to love us, like a dog, but they only perform because they know they will get food. Their bond is mostly around the food and game we provide them. As they become better at hunting with you as a team, they learn that you are their partner and you help provide game. There is a species of hawk however, called the Harris Hawk, that is very social and they live in a family group. Most raptors I know are solitary. Even during breeding season, they stick to themselves. The Harris Hawk on the other hand, is a big family group.




KMS
Do hawks then mate for life?

J
Yes most species do, until one dies or is killed. They will use the same nesting sites for many many years too. Often when one of the parents dies, the offspring will come back.
Let me go back to the Harris Hawk, because they live in families, when you take one you can take two and hunt them both or sometimes more. This is called gang hawking, kind of like a wolf pack. These raptors actually form a bond with you. They are very smart, and a lot of falconers like them because they are easy to train. Out of all the hawks, I would say the Harris Hawk builds the biggest bond

KMS
Are raptors considered a bird or is a raptor in its own category?

J
They are a bird, but they are in a group called Falconiforms, (eagles, falcons, hawks, osprey, secretary bird, vultures; class Aves) An order of diurnal birds that have sharp claws and strong hooked bills. They are mainly carnivorous, feeding on a wide variety of animal prey.
There are five families:

Accipitridae …
which are true hawks…hawks, eagles etc.
Falconidae …
Falcons,
Pandionidae …
Osprey
Sagittariidae …
Secretary bird that lives in Africa
Cathartidae …
are the vultures, which are really not considered birds of prey but they classify them together.
Owls are strigiformes

KMS
Tell me a little about Amelia

J
She is a Prairie Falcon captured from the West Desert in Utah. Prairie Falcons are only found in the North American continent. For years, they thought they only lived in the Western Plain State and a little bit of Canada, but now they are finding that they nest deep in to Mexico.

KMS
Do you think that’s just recent?

J
No they probably just didn’t know. There are probably a lot of remote areas no one knows of yet. They believe the biggest population is in the Snake River Valley in Idaho. Falcons nest in rocky cliffs. Sometimes they will use old crows, ravens nests but not usually. Falcons do not build nests, they just lay their eggs in a little scrape. Some on real steep cliff faces. Their habitat is grasslands, prairie, desert, and open spaces.

KMS
In General how many young do they have?

J
This year in the nests they had around five babies, which is a good year. The amount of eggs a Raptor has depends on the prey base.

KMS
Kind of like the wolf population?

J
Yep, all predators are the same in that respect. When there is a abundant food source, predators have a successful year.

KMS
Out of those five eggs, how many usually survive?

J
Rule of thumb, mortality rate is 80%. 80 out of 100 raptors will die before they reach maturity.

KMS
Is that from other predators or different factors?


J
Lots of things. Other predators, competition for food. Not enough food. Harsh weather. A predators life is hard on them.

KMS
At what age do birds of prey start hunting in the wild on their own?

J
Few months, the Prairie falcon fledges at about 8 to 10 weeks.

KMS
Do birds of prey normally only have one brood a year or more?

J
Normally they only have one. Sometimes though rare, if it’s a good year they can have a second.

KMS
How long has Falconry been in existence and where did it start?

J
One debate is that it started in Middle East. There’s also evidence it started in China. We know for sure its at least 4000 years old and that it may be older. I think probably the Middle East is where it started. There is evidence that the Egyptians practiced it and then Japan also. It got very popular again in the Renaissance, well even before that, in the Middle ages. It was for the hierarchy.
Back in the middle ages, different birds signified different classes. The birds the kings didn’t desire were for the peasants. They were very strict too. If you were caught with a bird out of you class designation they would cut your hands off. It was a very big social status, mostly for the rich. As you look through history, it was mostly a sport for the higher class.

KMS
How do these birds fit into the hierarchy of the animal world and who are their predators.

J
Different species have different predators. An Eagles predator would be other Eagles or man —man is their biggest predator. For the small raptures, their predators would be Eagles and Owls. Most all raptors who are diurnal, fear Owls. Because Owls are a nocturnal predator that hunt at night, and take a lot of young birds and many adult birds when they are sleeping. Prairie Falcons, for example, if they see an owl in the daytime, they will try to kill it.

KMS
What do raptors eat?

J
Prairie Falcons or other birds of prey?

KMS…
Any bird of prey

J
Some birds have specialized diets such as some Kytes which is a small falcon. The Snail Kyte that lives in Florida, live only on a certain snail. That would be an example of a specialized diet. Osprey, mostly eat fish. Bald Eagles, eat fish and will eat carrion and dead animals if they have to. Most of them are opportunists, they will take the opportunity to get any kind of food they can get.

KMS
Will falcons or hawks eat anything that is dead?

J
Not usually. But I have seen Red Tails in the winter eat road kill. Usually though, that’s only if they are injured or it’s a hard winter and they are hungry. If they are starving, they are not dumb; they know they need to eat. In the wild, Falcons mostly eat birds. During breeding and hatching season they will change their diet, to rodents and other small game. But when they are hunting for themselves in the wild, the falcon is adapted at catching birds. Red Tails, (buteo) will hunt rodents, some birds and reptiles. Eagles would be the same, mostly rodents, but they can also catch birds.


KMS
You told me that Prairie Falcons hits speeds of 200 MPH. How do they catch their prey?

J
They will bind to them in the air, which means they will impact with their feet, called raking (strike hard and rake its longer talon across the preys back). Some birds will just clutch their prey, take them to the ground and if they are not dead, sever their spine with the notch on their beak that I mentioned earlier. All birds of prey have that notched tooth in their head that when used kills their prey instantly.

KMS
So actually then, the bird of prey is a humane hunter.

J
I guess we as human would consider it to be humane but I think its natures way of equipping them with hunting and taking their prey quickly without getting hurt. The whole point is to kill something. Many times their prey is at least the same size or larger than they are, and if there is a struggle, they could get hurt.

KMS
So when I see a bird of prey carrying a rabbit or something away, they’ve killed it before they carry it away.

J
Usually. But the only bird that could really fly away with a rabbit is an Eagle. A very large Red Tail might be able to carry a rabbit a short distance, because a rabbit weighs at least a couple of pounds. Something that size they will usually eat on the ground.

KMS
How long do birds of prey live ?

J
They can live a long time. There is a famous Eagle in captivity, who is still alive that is about 80 years old. Red Tails are known to live up to 40 years in captivity. In the wild, approx 20 years.

KMS
You mentioned some words before, such as feaking?

J
Yes Feaking is when they are done eating they wipe their beak off.
There are many falconry related words, such as Cadger.The old Hag. Hag refers to the term haggard, which is an adult raptor with adult plume. Cadger…is the person who carried the falconry ‘cadge’. A crate in medieval times that held many falcons at one time. The Cadge would carry the crate with the birds for the kings and the knights to the hunting grounds. So …the term come on you old cadger, came from that.

KMS
I’ve watched you with Amelia since you’ve been here in NY for a visit and you fly her every day.

J
Yes…and its still not as much as I fly her at home. That’s why yesterday she was a little bit excitable and did not come as quick as she usually does when I asked her to come in. She’s use to more fly time. Can’t blame her, she’s a bird, she loves to fly.
Some guys get so involved and because falconry is so time consuming, they loose their jobs, get divorced, all because of the time it takes. But you need to spend this time to make sure your bird is in tip top shape and in good health. In the wild they hunt and kill something every day, so not only do you need to take the time to train them but you have to take the time to hunt with them. You have to find places where they can actually hunt. So that means if you live in the city, you have to take them somewhere they can hunt.

KMS
As you with Amelia. She is not old enough to hunt on her own, so you have to do her hunting for her while she is in training and make sure she gets all the proper nutrients she would get out in the wild, correct.

J
Yep exactly, I am her parents. I need to take care of her as they would. They have to eat wild game; they can’t just eat bird foods. There are certain nutrients and fats they only get in wild game that they need. If and when you capture a raptor to train, you also have to go through a legal process, put up facilities that have to be inspected and follow certain codes. Its not just catch a raptor, and then treat it like a parakeet you buy at the store.

KMS
What would you tell someone wanting to become a falconer?

J
We come across that a lot during falconry shows. People watch us, think they like it and want to do it. But we always tell them…it takes a LOT of time. I can’t stress that enough, the time it takes. You have to have a lot of spare time or make sure you MAKE the time. You can’t capture a bird, put it in a cage then expect it to perform. Falconry is not pet keeping. If you want a bird for a pet, I tell people get a parrot. Again, raptors are not pets. Make sure its what you want to do. Go spend some time with a falconer and see the time it takes before you go and catch a raptor. Spend time with some one who bands birds, anything to get to know the raptor better.
Its important you understand the commitment it takes. You have to be fair to the birds. Its a must you take the time and know what you will be getting in to when you become a falconer.
My wife and I will be having a baby in Dec. and I’m not sure what I will do. Though I would love to be a falconer full time, having a family, a home and taking care of them will not allow that. Like I said…it is VERY time consuming. And it’s time you have to spend, not always time you want to spend. So just make sure you are willing to commit all you have to it before you enter in to it.
These birds, (birds of prey) truly are amazing and they deserve nothing but respect.
It is not something anyone should take lightly.



A Note of Thanks to Jonathan and Amelia for letting me get up close and personal.
I learned a lot and having Amelia fly so close to me that I could feel the silent air from her wings on my legs, was a dream come true.
To you Amelia, I say thank you, may your wings take you to new heights.
Jonathan, Thank-you for giving me an experience of a life time.
May you both fly with wings of Freedom
Kellie

Post Note;
December 12th I found out that Jonathan and Amelia competed in a tournament and kicked, butt, or maybe better said in falcon terms…they kicked tail feathers.
Yeahhhhh Amelia….Great things come in small packages! Amelia is living proof of that.




Amelia says have a bit of fun


Try a few questions from the New York State Falconry Examination Manual! Passing the Falconry Exam is one of the requirements for obtaining a falconer's license to be able to hunt with a trained bird of prey. These questions are from the 2001 manual the Department of Environmental Conservation gives out as a study guide, but all of these answers are still correct.

Now don’t peak at the answers until you’ve read all the questions.

1. Which bird is most likely to require a plucking log or stump near its nesting site?
a. Red-tailed hawk
b. Goshawk
c. Kestrel
d. Harris' Hawk


2. True or false. Most Buteos make good hawking birds.


3. The term "gang hawking" is associated with
a. Goshawks
b. Merlins
c. Harris' Hawks
d. Red-tails


4. Indicate the species that is not a true eagle (Aquila)
a. Bald Eagle
b. Golden Eagle
c. Tawny Eagle
d. Walberg's Eagle

Bonus question:
True or false. There is no sexual dimorphism in the Red-tailed Hawk.



Answers and explanations from the manual.
1. b. The plucking log is characteristic of Goshawk nesting sites. It is very noticeable at some sites. It is usually a large, fallen tree on which the male stands while plucking prey. This plucking site is always present, but sometimes it is as much as a quarter mile from the nest. Goshawks also appear to require permanent water near the nest site, usually a lake or river with a sloping beach used for bathing.


2. False. Of the ten species of North American buteos or buzzards, most are noted for laziness and lack of spirit compared to other predatory birds of similar size. Most of the species live on insects and small rodents and so are of considerable value to agriculture, but of little use to falconers. The two largest members of the group, the highly spirited Ferruginous and Red-tailed Hawks, are the exceptions.


3. c. "Gang hawking" or "social hawking" involves a group of falconers or hawkers in the field all at the same time and flying collectively at the same quarry. Harris' hawks lend themselves to gang hawking because of their social nature. At some falconry meets it is possible to see up to 15 Harris' hawks in the field with dozens of hawkers and beaters at once.


4. a. There are 70 species of Aquilas or true eagles. The Bald Eagle is not one of them. The Bald Eagle is a sea eagle (Haliaeetus) of which there are many speices of world-wide distribution. All feed on fish to some extent, some species are strictly fish-eaters. The Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) of North America is listed as an endangered species in most of the lower 48 states. Neither the Bald Eagle nor the Golden Eagle (Aquila chrysaetos) may be used for falconry in New York.


Bonus: (Sexual dimorphism is the difference in form between male and female members of the same species.)
False. In addition to being much larger and heavier, the hens, generally, though not always, have larger more powerful thighs and feet, broader and larger heads, wide wings and a blockier overall build. As to behavior, the tiercels (males) are somewhat more spirited but also more temperamental. The hens more readily "crash" heavy cover in pursuit of quarry but they lack the quickness and aerial dexterity of the tiercel.

Go here for Glossary of falconry terms
http://www.americanfalconry.com/Glossary.html

Interview with a Falconer Part II

Welcome to Part II of my interview with, Falconer, Jonathan Clarkson.


KMS
Jonathan, I'm not sure if I want to know, but I have to ask, you mentioned previously about giving your falcon a bagged animal. Please explain what a bagged animal is?

J
Something you capture, like a Starling or Pigeon that you tie a drag weight on, with a line, so they can’t fly or run to far. The Falconer hangs on to the line to keep the game in a certain range where the young bird can see it. When the bagged animal tries to fly or run it entices the young bird to hunt it.


KMS
I never knew this was part of training raptors and to be honest, it sounds mean. I have a better understanding why you said its, ‘kind of a bloody sport'. As I said before, I’ve known you since you were a child and know your love of animals, so how can you willingly put a live animal out there to be killed by your bird in training or kill an animal to train your bird. How does this make you feel?


J
It’s hard. It’s a hard part of being a Falconer, but I realize in the wild their parents do the same thing, it’s part of the life cycle.

KMS
So what this means then, if you decide to catch a young Rapture you become its parent and the responsibilities that go along with it.

J
Yes…If you are serious about being a Falconer, teaching others about Raptures and making your bird a good hunter, you have to replicate how it would learn to hunt as close to nature as possible. As your bird improves its hunting skills, you can’t keep handing them bagged or dead animals or they will not learn to hunt. They will soon learn not go after game that is physically fit, because the bagged or dead animal is easier. You have to push your bird to the limit. They must be physically fit and in the best health to be able to hunt like they should, and the way to achieve this is you must duplicate how they learn in the wild. You have to feed them well with what they would eat in the wild too. They have to be an athlete, or in the wild, it would mean certain death. The responsibility of a Falconer, because we want to learn and then teach others about these great birds is to do what’s best for the bird. As I said, it’s our responsibility, they did not asked to be captured.

KMS
I don’t think most people think about a ‘bird’ being physically fit or an athlete. I know I never did.

J
They have to be to survive in the wild. That’s why when they are young, their parents make them work for their food. It teaches them to use their instinctive skills. They MUST learn how to hunt for themselves and their families. In the wild, the ones that are not the athletes cannot survive.
KMS How long does it take to train a bird and at what age are they best to capture?

J
About a month as a rule of thumb for training. Some are fast learners some are slower. The Prairie Falcon I have, as soon as she was flying she was pretty much trained. I captured her from the nest. She was all full of down, a little fluff ball. She became tame very quick.
To answer the second part of your question…at what age is best for them to be captured? The decision to catch a wild one or chose to take a baby from the nest, depends on what someone wants. If they want a really good hunting bird, they would want to capture a passage bird, because it’s already been living on its own for a couple months catching game. Many times though it will take them a little longer to become tame, called ‘manning’, (getting them use to humans).

KMS
What happens to these birds once you turn them back in the wild?

J.
Imprints…birds captured from the nest, typically are not returned to the wild. They don’t think of themselves as a bird. So it is harder to return them. It can be done, but it is unusual. That’s why an apprentice can only capture a Kestrel or Red Tail from the wild (a passage bird), in case they loose it. It can return to the wild very quickly and it doesn’t take them very long to revert back. Imprints are use to man, use to dogs, which normally would be predators to them, so it would not be very fair to them to release them back in to the wild. They don’t have the natural fear to keep them safe. That’s why I stress the importance, that being a Falconer is a serious endeavor. You can’t take a bird from the wild, imprint it, get tired of doing it and just put it back.

KMS
Which raptor is your favorite and why. Is one breed smarter or bolder than another?

J
Yep, they are different, even raptors from the same families. For instance the Prairie Falcon I have, Amelia, my friend has her sister and they are two different personalities. Amelia, is quiet and friendly. My friends falcon squawks and bites his glove. A more aggressive one might make a better hunter, but I’ve also seen the quiet more docile ones have the most game kills. Sometimes the docile ones are just taking things in slower, thinking about them more. As far as my favorite bird, it depends on what you want to hunt. If you want to hunt up-game quarry, like Pheasants, or Grouse, Falcons are the best. I haven’t had one yet but probably my favorite is going to be the Goshawk. It belongs to a group called the accipiter, with short rounded wings and long tails. Their habitat is in thick woods. They catch birds, squirrels, rabbits, all kinds of rodents. They are very fast. In Europe, they were called Pot Hawks, because you could come back with all kinds of game for the dinner pot, geese, birds and game . I’ve always liked them so I would say they are my favorite, and I hope someday I will be able to fly one.

KMS
Amelia is smaller then some of the other raptors you have mentioned. How with her smaller size does she hunt successfully and how are her hunting skills different than let’s say the Red Tail Hawk. Why did you choose her.


J
I was impressed with the great hunting skills they (the falcons) have for a small rapture. Their successful kill rate is better than a Red Tail. If they go after game, they are 30-40% more likely to capture it on the first try. The Prairie Falcon is built different than the Red Tail. They are more streamlined and what’s considered a Long Wing. But her body is stocky and built rugged for hunting. She kills her prey with speed—hitting it at speeds of 200 MPH. If the impact does not kill her prey, then she severs its spine with a notch she has on her beak. Even though she is smaller, her wings are longer than the Red Tail and when she is full-grown she will probably weigh more. The Red Tail hunts with its talons. It could not hunt with impact like the falcon, because their bones are hollow. They look bigger because their feathers are fluffy.

KMS
I noticed yesterday when I was up close to Amelia, her beak and legs are a bluish color. Is that a falcons coloring?

J
Yes and no. The blue is normal for an immature falcon, and will stay that color until she is about a year old. When she matures her coloring will change.



KMS
Oh and yesterday, you cued Amelia to fly between the two of us. As she flew by she was so fast, I couldn't catch her in my camera lens, and I could feel the rush of air as she swooped by. She was going 200 MPH?

J.
No…she was probably only doing about 100, just cruising.




NEXT in Part III
The Last installment of my Interview with a Falconer

Is there any breed bolder than others?
Do you form a bond with your bird and she with you?
How long do they live?
What would you tell anyone wanting to become a Falconer.

Interview with a Falconer …Part I

In August, I had the privilege of doing an Interview with, a Falconer and meeting Amelia his 3-month-old Prairie falcon.
I have always been in awe of raptors, the Hawk being one of my favorite, so being up close to one and feeling the rush of air on my legs as she swooped by me at a speed of 100 MPH or more, was like a dream come true.

Her handler Jonathan Clarkson, was young man in my 4-H group, back in the early 90’s. He was an energetic child, always hiking, fishing, being one with nature and usually doing things his own way, catching his first Hawk when he was around 13. Often I would see him, no saddle and bare feet, with his horse Smokey running up the fields behind my house, free like the birds he loves.

Since then he has grown into a fine young man. He lives in Utah with his wife Wendy and soon will becoming a parent.
So it is with great admiration and pride for the man that he has become.
I introduce to you Jonathan and his Prairie falcon Amelia.




KMS:
What is a falconer?

J.
Someone who trains birds of prey for hunting

KMS
Jonathan, You told me yesterday you do exhibitions, what is one important fact you want people to know about Falconry?

J
I tell them it’s important they understand falconry is not keeping a raptor as a pet. The purpose of doing this is to train them to fly free and catch game. This was the original purpose of falconry, an easy way for people to get food.

KMS
When did you know you wanted to be a falconer?

J.
I've always been interested with birds, actually, since I could read I use to read about them. When I was in elementary school, I met a man that did bird banding, so I helped him with that. I’ve always liked birds of prey. When I was real little kid, there was a movie called Lady Hawk. A movie set in medieval times, that had a Hawk in it and that’s when I knew I really wanted to work with hawks and birds of prey.

KMS
I know exactly what movie you are speaking of, it’s one of my favorites too. Please continue.

J.
After watching that movie, I knew I wanted to do that (be close) with a bird of prey.

KMS.
What does it take to become a falconer?

J
Lot of hard work and patience. Legally you have to get a state and federal permit. The laws vary from state to state but they are trying to keep them close to being the same.

KMS.
Do you have to go through any kind of training?

J.
Yes, you have to go through an apprenticeship and serve under someone for two years. There are three different classes of falconry, an apprentice class, general and master’s class and with a bird for four months, in two different 12 month periods. An apprentice in NY can only have kestrel (sparrow hawk) or a Red Tail hawk. They have to be captured from the wild as a passage bird.

KMS.
What is a passage bird.

J.
A passage bird is a bird that’s in its hatching year on its first migration. In NY the trapping season is from Sept to January

KMS
What class are you

J
Its been a battle to upgrade, but, I’ve been trying to upgrade to general.

KMS
Why did you choose working with Raptors?

J. Again since I was a kid, I was always interested and intrigued by them. Now that I am working and training Raptor, I get to see from their level how they hunt. Plus to be with them when they reach the next level, and right there when they are hunting, as a companion, lets you see how they hunt in the wild up close—is fascinating.

KMS
How does one go about catching a raptor and at what age is best?

J
That depends on what kind of prey you want to hunt. What kind of bird you want. You can capture them from the nest. There are all kinds of trapping methods. There are nets and box traps.


KMS
How long does it take to catch a Raptor?

J.
Sometimes it takes a long time. I’ve gone a couple of seasons without any luck.

KMS:
I watched you work Amelia yesterday and you mentioned that training a young raptor is a bloody task. How so and what do you to do train a young bird.

J
You can use bait, like starlings, gerbil mice, nets, traps, etc. Songbirds are protected. There are special traps we use where the bait used in the traps are not harmed. When the rapture is young you have to try and mimic as close as you can to what their parents would do.

KMS
HOW do you mimic its parents?

J.
When a raptor is still in the nest, as they get older the parents fly by and drop food in, making the youngsters work for their food.
Then when they are fledglings, the parents drop food from above and have them catch it.We use lures to mimic this. They come in all shapes and sizes and you tie tidbits of meat and swing and drag the lure around, coaxing them to fly towards it. You give them a bagged animal, that’s alive for them to hunt.

KMS
So both parents are involved in raising their young raptors?

J
Yes, Raptors are a family.


KMS
Knowing you since you were a young child, I know you love animals. So how then can you willingly put a live animal out there to be killed by your bird in training or kill an animal to train your bird.
How does this make you feel?



Part II
How Jonathan feels putting live animals out there for Amelia, knowing they will be killed.
Are birds of prey captured treated like athletes?
Also how Birds of Prey do their hunting and what kind of training the birds need.

Animals see the truth through the windows of the soul

After putting KoKo to sleep, the unpleasant task of burying him or having him removed needed addressing, quickly. I called to see about removal. The nearest facility is 150 miles away. It would have been a day or two before they could come. I couldn’t have KoKo laying around for that length of time. It sounds a bit gory but it’s a fact, that I do live in the country, and though I understand nature’s way, the vision of what would happen is not pretty.

So I made a phone call to a friend I grew up with. A man who my dad introduced to the excavation world when he was eight years old, and now like my dad is one with a piece of equipment. Anything he runs is not just a piece of metal but an extension of him.
His name is Jason.

Knowing he’d be busy, (he always is even when work is slow, using that time to repair and maintain his equipment) I called Jason.
He answered. I asked (sarcastically) if he was busy, his answer was what I expected. “Yeah kind of, but what do you need Hun?”

I told him I needed a boarders horse buried and his reply was, “I need to get the truck and excavator started, they’ve been sitting a few days, because of the snow storm and you know how diesels are. Let me go see if I can get it all started. Call me back as soon as the vet gets there and I will come up and bury that horse for you.”

Jason dropped everything he was doing, to come and do this for me. He was my savior of the day. A knight riding on a yellow excavator, rescuing Pat and me from the horrible things that could happen from a dead horse left unattended, to long in the country.

As he dug, as we watched, as he smoothed the bottom of KoKo’s final resting place, and as he laid KoKo gently in the ground, I could feel the feeling in my soul that comes about whenever I see or talk to Jason. I don’t know what the feeling is. Its not a feeling of love as in a woman loves a man nor a feeling of how a patient feels towards a doctor. The best explanation I have—is— it’s a feeling of reverence.

The nice weather had turned colder and we were all chilled. When Jason was done, I offered him some lunch and a cup of coffee. He accepted the cup of coffee. I have two dogs, Jenna and Maddie that I got from shelters a year ago. Jenna is friendly and loves everyone. Maddie is a little tenacious and barks at everyone. She does not like anyone near me, in the house or actually anywhere on the property, until and if she warms up to them.

Jason stepped in the house with Pat and me. I expected Maddie to do her normal run into the kitchen, and start barking at this intruder of her domain. Convincing us with her explanation of why he should not be in the house. Instead, she calmly walks into the kitchen, looks at Jason, looks into his eyes, and does nothing. Not one peep.

He sits at the table, I’m pouring our coffee’s, and I look to see where Maddie is, still a little worried about what she might do. She is standing next to Jason and he’s petting her. She never lets anyone new pet her either. Then the three of us are sitting at the table talking and drinking our coffee. Again, I look for Maddie, only to find her under the table curled up at Jason’s feet.

Did Maddie, a dog that was abuse as a puppy, look into his eyes and immediately know what I have felt about Jason for so many years? That inside this abuse as child man is the soul of one of the kindest human beings I have ever known. Did Maddie understand in one glance, my feelings I was trying to understand?
This episode got me thinking about Jason’s name. The abuse he suffered as a child and the, I’ll call, damaged, sometimes angry person he has become.
Led by what I feel towards Jason and Maddie’s reaction, I decided to look up the biblical name for Jason and this is what I found.

Middle English salvacion, from Anglo-French, from Late Latin salvation-, salvatio, from salvare to save —
Deliverance from danger or difficulty
Healer; To Heal
To preserve or guard from injury, destruction, or loss

This biblical explanation of his name, tells me Jason is the person I see inside the protective shield he puts around himself.
It also explains the sadness I get, that because Jason, “The Healer” a man who will do anything for most anyone and me and is so many people’s healer and deliverer from injury or loss, cannot heal or find himself and that as much as I wish I could, I cannot heal him either.

But what I can do, though I cannot heal the abused child I see behind the mans face, is thank God, that Jason is my friend, be his friend, and be thank-full that my dad let a lost eight year old little boy run his bulldozer.

Good days remembered will eventually outweigh this sad one

There are many ups to owning a pet, whether it’s a dog, cat, hamster, iguana or horse. We fall in love with them, take care of them and they give us unconditional love. However, there is one enormous down side. It’s the day we have to say good-bye; the day when they are too old and tired (if we are fortunate to have them until they are aged) to get up.

This happened Tuesday November 25th to a horse in my barn. KoKo, who was at a ripe old age of around 35, could no longer get up. I had turned the horses out. It was a warm sunshiny morning. Fresh light snow had fallen and everything looked clean and white. KoKo romped and ran in the snows, as well as a horse in their thirties can and decided to roll around in the snow, as horses usually do. Then as hard as he tried, he could not get up. I tried for almost an hour to get him on his feet, but even John Deere and I working together could not get it done. KoKo wanted to say good-bye. He had, had his last bit of fun. I called the Vet, then Pat.

I feel bad for Pat, his owner, because KoKo was her first horse, a dream come true, and more than likely her last. He was a good and gentle horse that took care of her in their 20 years of riding and stable time.

We weren’t certain of KoKo’s age. In 1989, Pat purchased him from Russ McCray, a cowboy with a soul from the old west. When she bought KoKo, she took him away from his life on a hack-string (where he was everyone’s favorite horse to ride) at ‘The Ranch’ a stable up the road from my house.
Back then, Russ told Pat that KoKo was five, but when I mouthed him (telling age by teeth) I thought his age to be around 10-15 years. This would have made him 30-35 years old, today. KoKo's been in my barn, just shy a couple months for 20 years and lived a good healthy life, looked round, not thin as some older horses do, had his feet trimmed a few days before he died, and his coat was still shiny.

I know right now Pat’s heart is heavy and her tears will fall for a few days, because of the decision she had to make, but some day she will realize what a grand ride they had, and 35 years old, is a long life for a horse.

Though I cannot feel her pain, I can sympathize from losing my own equine friends, over the fifty-year span of owning horses. Royal, my one horse, who is in his mid 30’s, will someday be too tired to get up too. When that day will come I don’t know, it could be today, tomorrow or two years from now.

But like I told Pat, this one day, of a sad decision, and the few days of grieving are minimal to the years of fun. That when you make this decision, whether it is a dog, cat, bird, iguana or a life long equine friend, it is a decision made out of love and respect for your trusted friend, because as in our case, we want them to go with their equine nobility in tact.
I know her heart is sad now. This a big down side of owning a horse or any animal, but she’ll soon remember all the upsides over the past twenty years, and realize those good times, definitely out weigh this one sad day, by a huge, HUGE margin..

Memories: They keep precious gifts safe, when things change

Dear Amanda and Barb
Thank you for the nice comments and visiting my web site and blog.


Yes, Amanda things are a bit different from when you were one of my Great kids in ‘The Galloping 4-H’rs’ 4-H group. However, the memories of that time are the same.

They are fond memories of loads of fun and a wonderful growing time not only for you but for me. It was a time when you, The Students, taught, Me The Teacher, many wonderful facts about life. (such as The Weedgy)


All those years, of kids, horses, giggles, smile, tears, bruises, blue ribbons, red ribbons and white. Weekend camping rides, horse sweat, fair dust, polo games soaking rains, a muddy corral, and the love within it all, was a part of my life that was perfect.









Love Kellie

Sometimes all you need is different glasses

Another gift idea, for Herbs & Things shop, came to me a few days ago. It’s not a new idea but I’ve never done it and it involves sewing—on a sewing machine, which I’ve not done since the early nineties or before?

When ever I take on a project such as this, I think of my home-‘ick’ (home economics) class in 7th grade where the teacher, I’ll call Mrs. T, took all the fun out of the class, when she told me, “if you have the choice Kellie, never take a home-‘ick’ class again. It is a waste of your time and mine. You will never be a good homemaker or a Dolly Domestic of any sorts.”

Ha, what did she know? I bet she couldn’t make bread from scratch, put it in the oven, go out run the tractor, change a flat tire on full manure spreader and make it back in the house right when that bread is a perfect golden brown. (Please, don’t worry, I do wash my hands before I handle the bread.) Well anyhow, that’s off the beaten path.

But there she was lurking in the back of my mind 40 years later telling me I couldn’t do this as I pulled my very Old Singer sewing machine from the back of the closet, for my newest and greatest project. I was about to show her, how wrong she was.


My Singer sewing machine was old when I got it 25 years ago. Actually, my husband picked it out of the garbage. Old Singer still dons a repair tag, like a gold medal, from 1974 for a grand total of $48.18. That was a lot of money then. I can’t imagine what it would cost to repair it today. I don’t know why I can’t take the tag off. I think it’s a badge of merit or something, because my husband saved it from sewing machine heaven.( Now that I think about it, that sewing machine was repaired before my husband and I were married, in 1977 so for what ever reason, someone else couldn’t remove the tag either.) It has stitch patterns I’ve never used, but it’s done everything I ever needed in the sewing department.


After removing Old Singer from its resting place, I put it on the table, dust it off, put the foot pedal on the floor, and plug it in. I painstakingly, thread the old needle, check the bobbin to make sure it has thread and feel an accomplishment already, just in the fact that I remember how to turn it on, work the foot-peddle and that the bobbin, is— called the bobbin. I feel a joyous anticipation when we, Old Singer and Me, are ready to get to work on my new project. Corn filled bags you heat in the microwave and use for heating pads.

I put the material under the foot, put the foot down, turned the knob so the needle is down in the fabric before I step on the magic sewing peddle. A little bit of smugness creeps into a smile, towards Mrs. T, because I remembered to do all of this. I feel like a real seamstress, well maybe not, but I know this new project of mine is going to be a piece of cake.

I step on the pedal, hesitant at first, not sure how much pressure I actually need to get the needle and thread to do its magic weave. The machine takes off; it whirs, whines and grinds to a halt. I use the thread cutter on the machine (pleased I remembered that too) to remove the material from its halted place. The thread at the ends is everywhere but where it needs to be. I hold the fabric up to the window and dots of light came through the empty holes. Where could all the thread have gone? Then I turn the fabric over and find all the missing thread. It’s bunched up and tangle on the bottom side, flailed everywhere, not holding anything together.
OK — so maybe, my home-‘ick’ teacher was right. Maybe I am not Dolly Domestic; maybe today I won’t be proving anything to her.

Not ready to give in, I get in my Jeep and drive 11 miles to the nearest department store, to buy a new sewing machine. A New Singer that cost only a few dollars more than the repair on the old one did in 1974. I don’t think my new machine will have the ability to don a repair tag for 34 years and then finally give in to age, it’s an inexpensive machine. But that’s ok, all I want is to sew some seams together. It doesn’t sound difficult does it? However, I’ve already spent 2 hours, 11 miles drive time, 22 miles round trip, $138 and have no corn filled bag to heat in the microwave. But I am confident this machine should do the trick.

Happy with my new purchase, when I get home I set it up, read the instructions, wind the bobbin, thread it, and NOW my new Singer and I are ready for my project. I take a deep breath, put the material under the foot, put it down, and gently step on the peddle. New Singer whirs, whines and comes to an abrupt halt. There is thread everywhere but where it should be. This can’t be happening, it’s a new machine. You mean to tell me I went and bought a new machine and its ME? Oh, I can hear her (Mrs. T) in the back of my mind, and see that smug smirk of hers, while she’s telling me, give up, give up you can’t do this. Dolly Domestic you are not.

Nope, I am not giving up I can do this. I’ll show you!
I take off my glasses and put on another pair of reading glasses, the bifocals on my regular glasses aren’t doing their job as well anymore. I know with the new set of glasses I will be able to re-read the threading instructions better and I will get it right. I re-read, re-thread, and Whirrrrrrrrr we are off.


Its 6 PM I am sitting out in Herbs & Things shop. I am open until 7 Pm on this night. I am sipping a luscious cup of China White Mint tea with honey. I have my first finished corn bag, warmed and comforting my back. However, it won’t be a bag I will put in the shop for sale. It is too expensive. After I figured out the cost of this one corn bag, I am certain no one will want to spend the $145 it cost to make this particular nifty corn filled heating bag. That’s ok, like that old repair take, it has a special meaning.

I am leafing through my new issue of Herb Companion magazine. Ahhhhh it really can’t get any better than this. Well maybe it could. A customer would put the icing on the cake, or a better metaphor, the fancy stitch on the trim.
Oh wait, I see lights, a car is pulling in. I put my magazine down, take off my reading glasses, put my everyday glasses back on and straighten my desk. I am ready for the fancy stitch that has just arrive—A customer. She sees my $145 corn bag. She places the warm bag on her cheek. “This is nice, I have a patient who has a bean filled one and she loves it. Will there be more?”
My chest fills with pride…”Yes…for $6.00 each.”
“Good, let me know when you have them done.”
“Yes I certainly will”. Secretly I relish in my conquest and whisper “So there, Mrs. T…I guess I showed you, not everyone can make a $145 corn filled bag to put in the microwave!”

My Field of Dreams

Build it and they— will —come is what I heard.
Remember ‘Field of Dreams’ with Kevin Costner? Well I guess Herbs & Things is my field of dreams. Now, as Ray Kinsella (Kevin Costner’s character) did, I have built it, I watch and I wait.

I’ve order spices, teapots, herbs and sugars—soy candles, teas, chocolates, cards and so much more. For those in search of, just the right gift, I’ve made Christmas wreaths and swags. Lighted potpourri jars and small ornaments starting at $2.75 for someone that needs a nice gift, for a teacher, co-worker, or someone you want to let know you think of them.
I’ve put together a $5.00 gift of candles and votive holder for someone who can spend a tad more and gift baskets of $20.00 for those who can afford a scooch more than a tad. I’ve arranged them nicely on Herbs & Things shelves.

Build it and they will come is what I heard.

I look out the crosschecked window and watch for another customer. I put more things on the shelves filling Herbs & Things home to the brim. I want to have something for everyone who comes in. I see a car go by. They chose not to stop. That’s to bad. They would be surprised by what’s inside. No matter, they’ll be back, because Build It and They Will Come, is what I heard.

The smell of organic coffee mixes with the natural aroma of soy candles and ‘good for you’ herbs of basil, oregano, parsley, and garlic. The healthy spice-blends put just the right twist of aromatherapy in the room and some day soon, they will spice up some ones life in a good way.
The space heater goes on. It pulsates back and forth, like the heart of Herbs & Things, keeping the aromas alive and the cold air out.
Though it is small, with the music playing and lit candles flickering softly upon cozy walls, I am happy and feel comfort and solitude inside. Even if it wasn’t mine, I would like it. I breathe in, and smile.

Why wouldn’t they come?

Warm and Fuzzy

When I went out to do chores at 4:30 this morning, the air smelled fresh and clean. A smell that no dryer sheet, candle, or spray could ever replicate. It’s our first snow of the season. About 2 inches fell and light snow is still falling. It feels like perfection in its beauty draped and layered on the branches of the trees, and covering that last bit of un-mown grass. Grasses I worried about, but now I see without them, the picture would not have been the same. Perfect.

Savoring the sensation before I continue my trek to the barn, I stand on the deck, admired the beauty. I look down at my boots, and watch the snow wrap around them. I think how odd something so cold quickly creates a blanket to whom or what ever enters. It will almost be a shame to shovel it away.

I giggle at the dogs because, like kids, or sometimes like me, when I’m feeling like a kid, can’t contain themselves. They need to run and frolic in the snow. Their growls of play and romping echo through the dark morning. Similar to children, their growls and barks are like laughter that comes with a first snow. I feel a type of renewal or assurance, something grander than all of us is at work.

Herbs & Things little home looks content in its corner of the world surround by its own blanket of white. Its clear lights illuminate and reflect a peaceful feeling, making me aware we must be close to something divine.

I am the type of person that wonders about these things frequently. Does the wonderment ever go away—no not really. That’s ok, actually it’s perfect, because, for now I don’t need answers to my wondering or inquiring mind. I am enjoying the beauty in the moment of a Snowflake Miracle, where one at a time, made a difference in my morning.

I am back in the house, and the dogs are barking at a strange sound. It rumbles, roars, and makes the house shiver. I get up and look out the window to see what it is. How silly of me, not recognizing the sound. It’s a 54 year familiar sound, that happens every year around the same time. I am quickly reminded of what I hadn’t thought about in a while, as the lights flash, come in the house, bounce off the walls and impishly go back out and play on the snows. The lights, joined with sparks that fly when metal hits asphalt creates a different kind of beauty than the snows, a phenomenon that will part of our every day for a while. Thank goodness for the snowplows.

The Days of

When I worked hard

And days I didn't



Dreaming of
And Dreams coming true



Visions of my younger years


Running with the Wind


Flying High


Sitting tight



Seeing outside the box


And learning from family before me

Apples 'in' the eyes

Apple season is special to me. Because there’s nothing like the smell of fresh apples simmering in a pot to be applesauce, especially the apples that get the cinnamon. The fall aroma wafts through the house filling it so full, that it must squeak out the kitchen door. The comforting scent flows out to greet me when I come in from doing chores.

I breathe in deep, ahhh heaven.

My pantry looks complete with all that golden, tan luscious freshness tucked away in Ball and Kerr Canning jars, amongst the summers reds, greens and yellows. I know it will taste marvelous on a 0 degree winter day, warmed. So I am not complaining about the abundance of beautiful apples, because next year I will want more, but it is November and apple season is over.

I’ve canned 30 pints of applesauce, made pies and put them in the freezer ready to bake. I’ve canned apples in light syrup, apples in heavy, and there is apple crisp in the oven. There are so many apples I have apples on the brain and apples ‘in’ my eyes. I even ordered a Country Apple Tea Set for Herbs & Things. Enough is enough

I’m trying to do dishes. But I can feel them leering at me from across the kitchen. Their stare pricks at the back of my neck. They look harmless enough sitting on my kitchen chair, but they are not. They are relentless in their quest. They are— more apples tucked neatly in a wicker basket, throwing Apple dagger looks as soon as I look at them.

I close my eyes, figuring it’s my imagination and tap my heels and recite out loud, I want no more apples, I want no more apples. First, I open the left eye a slit, then the right. Are they still leering? Yes, and they are bigger, redder and bolder in their wanting something done. They are yelling for me to do something, anything, before they go bad. But What? I rub my temples, to relieve my weary apple dumpling frenzy. I grab up the basket and start peeling.

My mind working as I peel. If I can’t think of something different I will can these too for apple crisp and pies to bake and worry about where to put the new canned jars of apples later.

Peel, Peel, the mind is working; the mind is working Peel Peel. Cider, Sweet cider, I have sweet cider in the frig…ahhhhh blink…an idea, APPLE BUTTER.
Peel Peel faster faster I have a goal.

I cook and stir —cook and stir, cook and stir— cook and stir.
Spoon, turn the mill, spoon, turn the mill, put it all back in the pot, cook and stir, cook at stir, add cinnamon and nutmeg…ahhhhh smells good.
Cook and stir, cook and stir. Don’t want it to burn.
Cook and Stir. I fill the water bath canner, cook and stir. The water boils.
I fill canning jars with hot steaming cinnamon and nutmeg pulped apples. It is nice and thick. Twist and tighten lids. Put the jars in their hot water bath. Wait ten minutes for the timer to go off.
Ding.
I take them out. One by one…pop, pop, the lids seal. The brown inside the jars is an inviting, soft, mouthwatering brown.
The apples are finally content, they are Apple Butter, until morning that is.

Barn chores are done, the dogs and have romped and played, it’s time for toast and coffee. Hmmmmmm what do I want on my toast—something sweet, something tasty, No, not jelly, no—not peanut butter.

I hear a whisper from behind…yoo-hoo…oh…yoo-hoo, I am waiting for you to try me. No I can’t I just canned you yesterday.
No really— you WANT to try me.
Ok
Snap, hiss, the sealed lid gives way, and the delightful aroma says hello to my waiting senses.
Spread, Spread…bite….chew…bite…ohhhhhhh….I did good… I did YUMMY-licious…GOOD.

Snow Flake Miracles

I’m somewhat of a skeptic. Not about my beliefs, whether formed by faith or through actual experiences, but skeptic of what others ‘really’ believe or pretend to believe.
So when I started reading ‘The Shack’ by William P. Young, my skepticism kicked into high gear. I wasn’t sure, if I liked the book, or if I would finish reading it. Yet I continued to read on, curious about what was going to happen next.

With each page moving me to another chapter then another, I wondered at first, why this book is a top seller. I scolded myself, for continuing to read it, because ‘its way to hokey even for me’.

I know a writer's job is to keep the reader in motion. This book did that by making me wonder where it was taking me. It took me deeper into McKenzie’s Great Sadness, forcing me get to know him personally. By doing this, I could feel McKenzie’s pain.

My skepticism turned to worry. Will he go? What will happen to him when he gets there? Why is he going alone? What does he think he’ll find? With each step and mile towards his certain death, my heart ached for McKenzie because his ‘Great Sadness’ was making him to do a foolish thing. It was then I realized I was hoping for a miracle. I wanted to believe the unbelievable.

You are probably asking, what and where am I talking about. Sorry I can’t tell you, you have to read the book. I can tell you this, what does happen is something only seen in movies or in someone’s dreams. I found myself analyzing about any one of us and our lives. Are our lives merely a dream of reality or is our reality within our dreams.

When I turned the last page, those initial feelings of I can’t believe I’m reading this stuff were gone and I felt hope. Hope in, if we learn to forgive not only others but ourselves, in this hectic world of today where patience is minimal, and road rage is on the rise, our own sorrows would be less. To learn to see, amidst a growing de-sensitivity towards the earth and others, the miracles that surround us. The miracles of what this earthly world offers us—the big miracles in the ‘simple’ every day things.

Such as the miracle, any one can see on a spring day, when a delicate flower is strong enough and has broken through frozen ground. When tiny birds we consider fragile, survive what Mother Nature throws at them, and return after a long migration flight, to serenade us with their song of life. The miracle that’s free for us to witness, on a snowy winter day, when one snowflake gathering with others makes a blanket of white, covering miles, allowing us to see, the power of —one—at— a— time.

Do I believe what happened in ‘The Shack’ happened for real? I’m not sure.
But for me, it is a nice thought, that even if a life changing event happens in a dream, and we emerge with a new perspective about life, doesn’t that somehow make it real?

Inspiration...

Please say HI to my sister
Thanks...Kellie .
Inspiration comes from many different places
Such as Larry Mahan’s quote, inspired me to write my Mystery Road Intersection, in Octobers issue of Herbs & Things(http://www.coldensherbsandthings.com/ The Write Page) essay about others and my voice of writing, inspiration came through a quote, from an ad for the American Quarter Horse Association, in Hobby Farms Magazine, Sept/Oct 2008 issue.
It inspired me to share about another voice, the voice of family.
The quote read:

Life is a Ride
The important thing about choosing your path in life isn’t about where you are going, but who you bring along.

A picture, of a girl and her horse, behind the quote, touched me with feelings, only someone who’s life has revolved around horses from age two, a horse lover and owner could understand. Typing the words from the quote, a lump forms in my throat.

The horse in the picture is gray, which saddles up my mind for a ride down memory lane. It trails to my horse Mike, a gray half-Arab quarter horse. He was a present for my fifteenth birthday from my parents.

It was love at first sight the day we went to see him and I watched him boss his sibling colts and fillies around in the paddock. When they delivered him, he walked off the trailer as a gangly, six month old colt, with an attitude. I took the lead rope in hand, with my fifteen year old, matching attitude. It was a match made in heaven.

Our relationship spanned 32 years. He was with me through my teenage years and gave me comfort through my first love and the horrible day we broke up. Mike was there the day I married and consoled me during the deaths of my grandmother, uncle, my mother and others close to me. We did horse showing, played polo, drove cart; trail rode, goofed around, and did what family buddies do.

What he gave me was unconditional love. He gave me a place to cry with no judgment and a wonderful journey that lasted until he died.
When he died, our ride like no other was over. It was a change. He and I had been together longer than I had been married or some marriages last. I was sad this important piece of my world was no longer with me but glad we did it together.
Yes, he was ‘just’ a horse, but he was part of my family.

My other family my mom, dad, and sister, were a small family of four, with Irish and Scottish temperaments and triggers to match. Our life together well to say the least, was never boring. But it too, was a match made in heaven.
Our family, after my mothers death became three, then dad passed, making it two, my sister and me. Emotional things happened and one day my sister and I no longer spoke. Now I felt like one, from this family of four.

For close to twenty years, I was doing ok, living my life with out my family. After all, I have my husband and his family, who love me. I have close friends who are as close to family as anyone could have. But something inside of me was missing.

I did not realize, until one day knowing my sister was very ill, and later diagnosed with incurable colon cancer, when I hugged her for dear life, what it was.
In that hug, years faded away. The upset about what ever was gone. The fear to speak our minds, with respect for the other, no longer existed and I became certain, there is no one like a sister.

I had missed my sister over those years, and she me. We missed the fun times we shared, how we think alike, and have the same tastes. We missed our talks, the way we speak in unison; laugh out loud, in the same tone— at the same things.

Then I decided to follow a voice of inspiration and start a new business, Herbs & Things.
The day came I wanted to open the doors, I didn't want fanfare, or big ta—do about it. It wasn’t an opening, just opening the doors. Still my sister and her two daughters, my nieces, came to be with me on my first day.

My sisters response after I told her, she didn’t need to come, was “of course I had to. I have to be here It’s your first day open. It’s what a sister does, support her sister.”

Once they were here, it meant the world to me. We sat in the sun, waited for customers, and enjoyed each other’s company. A priceless time spent with family.
So it is true, it’s not about the path you choose but about who you bring along. Because they’ve come along for my Herbs & Things ride, no matter if it’s right or wrong, it will be one of best rides of a lifetime, like my ride with Mike.
Both a match only heaven could have made up.

Kellie

Passion-Real or Imagined

What is passion?
Passion capitalized means the sufferings of Christ between the night of the Last Supper and his death; this is not my passion.

The passion I’m speaking of, is the state or capacity of doing something fueled by external agents or forces, or as in my case internal forces—my gut feeling, the little voice in my head, or the crazy ideas I come up with— aka— My voice.

My voice, the voice of reason, the voice of intuition, spiritual guidance, or a voice that sounds like my mother, especially during the winter when I scuff my clunky, keep my feet warm boots on the barn floor, and I hear her say, “Kellie Marie” pick or feet up. Without a blink of an eye, I do what I’am told, with no fear of the voice or any doubt it is she telling like when I was a child, to pick up my feet.

When your passion or the truth of your soul comes through, it is an intense, overpowering conviction that drives you forward and squelches doubts. I’ve learned to listen better as I’ve matured, (you notice I did not say as I am getting older), and not fight it.

The Native American’s historical uses of herbs, and other cultures that don’t have the modern day medicines we do, who live sometimes healthier lives, I find intriguing. This intrigue has pushed me to want to know more. I want to learn the power of herbs and go back to a more natural way of life that will help us (the human race) live in a more harmonious state.

My passion, My Voice, not necessarily the voice of reason, is leading me to open this new business, Herbs & Things, even though I am not an expert on herbs, teas or running my own business. I do however, have a passion for drying herbs from my gardens and planting, growing and canning my own vegetables. How then do I cultivate this passion? What better way, than open a business on the very thing I want to learn more about.

I was in the shower when I heard the voice loud and clear. I guess my mind was open for reception. The shower is the one place I can hear the best. The running water lets me hear nothing else. The name Herbs & Things was specific and immediately ideas started filling my mind and has not stopped. I couldn’t stop even if I tried.

I must admit, I wonder, crosses my mind a lot. I wonder if I’ve ordered the right merchandise. Will I have enough? Will I do ok? Will people like my homey little Herbs & Things shed and the neat stuff inside? My voice tells me not to worry about that.

This journey is fueled by an overpowering conviction, coming from where—I don’t know. Why now— I don’t know that either. All I do know is I quit my job to be able to devote the proper amount time to launch this endeavor with another plus, I can spend more time on my writing.
The odd thing about quitting my job and spending money on this adventure is I feel no guilt or fear. It feels right. Does this lack of guilt and fear mean I am being true to my passion, my soul and my hearts intention? I know what I think.

Think about your passion. If you don’t know, what it is—listen to that voice inside your head. You know— that idea you say, no way I can’t do that or— what am I crazy to think such I thing. Go for it. You only live once, and saying I wonder, is much better than saying, I wished I tried.

Kellie

Searching for the Sand Man. I am not alone.

Last night while spending the evening with insomnia, I wrote this to Tricia at Faith Hope and Fiction in response to her Blog, Sleepless in Chicago.

The dogs are sleeping. My husband is not home yet. It’s well after midnight and I haven’t gone to bed, which is strange, my bedtime is usually around 10.
I have a lot on my mind I guess and the coffee I had at a birthday party at 6 PM I’m sure isn't helping.
With my new business a few days away from opening and the fact I, ten minutes ago, made the check out for the school taxes, causes a little worry. The bank account looks sad. This could be the reason I am still up, but I am not sure that’s it. Sleep has eluded me for the past ten years, for one reason or another.
I’m awake and wondering if any one else is up and out there or am I alone in my world, of toss and turn, fix the fans, turn the pillow, drink some water, look out the window at the barn through the rain, and place an order for more stock.
Sigh—yawn—the account is sagging at the shoulders now.
Therefore, I go searching, for what I am not sure. My eyes are too tired to read so I hunt for something, anything that will lull me into drowsy eyed slumber land. When behold but whom do I find in my search, but a fellow sleepless night wanderer, Tricia Crisafulli, a friend, mentor and chief cheerleader.
It’s a comfort to my sleepless mind to know that there’s a connection, not only through the world of writing but also through the world of sleepless nights, with someone out there.
I think I’ll be able to sleep now, knowing I am not alone, padding across the carpet in the dark, searching for the infamous sand man.
Good night my friend Tricia Crisafulli and let us sleep tight.

Herbs and Things Horse of the Month

I had fun researching for the October horse of the month for Herbs and Things.
The most fun about the research is, I learned something I did not know.

The horse has come a long way since the 'Dawn Horse', and though there are many breeds of horses today, not many begin with 'O'. However, I did find one and it is rare.

So check out Herbs and Things web Oct 1st, and learn about this rare breed.
If you have any more info, than what I found, please feel free to share.

Soon my falconer interview. Stay tuned.

Till Later
KMS

Interview coming soon

Hello from Herbs and Things
The shop is starting to come together.
It looks like I will be on time with my opening.

Coming next in Herbs and Things Blog
An interview with a Falconer.
We will discuss how he became a Falconer.
What a Falconer does and the purpose and a little history of Falconry.

See you soon
KMS