Moody Monday With Rusty The Rooster

tlpoague

This morning I wanted to start with the question: What image does the word Easter bring to mind to you? When I hear the word Easter, images of Christ's crucifixion and resurrection come to mind. A scenario where people are flocking to church in their Sunday's best to celebrate the gift of Salvation that God has given.

Then there are the images of family gatherings, dyed eggs, baskets of candies, gifts, tables overflowing with food, and at least one small group of children talking about a crazy relative. (In my family anyway.)

This year our family celebration was going to be missing Big Nam. (He drew the hospital winning lottery where he would be poked and prodded before given a clean bill of health to enjoy an left-over celebrations.)

Family around the area took time to drop in wishing him well and listening to his hospital adventures. When my turn came, I tagged along with his youngest sister. Since it was an hour long drive, we laughed and reminisced about past family gatherings which led to the question...how do I want to be remembered as a grandmother?

I have fond memories of my grandparents, but when asking my children, they mentioned they didn't have that many affectionate memories. (Reasons varied with each child.) I began to worry that my grandchildren may feel the same way because I am a strict but loving grandparent. This was soon dashed by many voices expressing how much little J is a grandma's boy.

So, I flipped the question back to the party that asked. She told me it was an easy answer for her. She wanted to be remembered as “The Crazy Grandma.”. I don't remember asking her why. All I could remember were story lines and images of her pet rooster that she recently acquired from Big Nam. Considering this was an aunt that I had many wonderful memories of as a child, I couldn't help but laugh, because I understood where she was coming from. (I have many a crazy moments myself.)

She had been having fun creating her own stories with her newly acquired pet. Which she allowed me to share with my readers today.

Meet PW and her rooster, Rusty.

Rusty was first introduced to the family in March. Big Nam was on a return trip when he spotted Rusty at a roadside market. He couldn't help but stop when he thought of how much his sister, PW, loved chickens. Not just any chickens...chickens with character.

Meet Rusty the Rooster
Photo by PW

Rusty loves to help cook up an exotic meal.

Photo by PW

Of course there are dishes to be washed after eating such a fine cuisine.

Photo by PW

His favorite hobby is to meet new friends.

Rusty and his new friend
Photo by PW

He even invites his friends to join him to watch TV while PW is at work.

Photo by PW

Sometimes late at night he will try to sneak in a scary movie.

Photo by PW

When frightened, he will run to PW to sleep in her bed for the night.

Photo by PW

She will tell him that he is a big rooster now and should be able to handle watching scary movies. Ashamed, he will make his way back into the front room.
Sometimes when he can't sleep he will raid the fridge.

Photo by PW

Who knows what kind of hidden gems there are to sample.

Photo by PW

The other day he got into trouble with PW for eating the family pet...Mr. Rabbit. I guess the Easter bunny is going to have to look for a new recruit for next year.

Photo by PW

Thanks for following along in the adventures of PW and Rusty. Stay tuned for next weeks Moody Monday. You never know what may come along. See Y'all next time!

tlpoague 2014

Ordinary or Extraordinary?

Photo by tlpoague

Molly

She toys with the keys on the keyboard. Her mind like a blank canvas. The creation is there swirling about, but for some unknown reason won't birth itself. She taps out a sentence. It sounds awful...hopeless and depressing. Why won't the words flow like they are suppose to? Why does it seem so difficult tonight? How is it some people make writing look so easy? Presenting her with writer's block once again, these questions and more haunt her.  She hits delete, exits out of the window, and shoves herself away from the computer in defeat for now.

Colleen

She crochets five double crochet stitches in the row of her afghan. Stretching her project out, she counts how many rows  are needed to finish. Like a neon sign she sees a gap in her work six rows back. She realized that she had missed a stitch. The thought of leaving it tantalized her. Unfortunately, it was too obvious of a mistake to not correct. Slowly she began to unravel hours of work.

Eunnie 

She loved the feel of bread dough between her fingers as she kneaded the dough before her. She felt a calm wash over her with the squishing motion. There was something special, almost magical, about making bread from scratch. It would have been easier and quicker to do it in the bread machine her husband had bought her, but this was her preference. To give a part of herself to each creation. It was something that she felt was soon becoming a lost art when she reflected on others that were her age. She molded the bread into a ball. smoothed the sides and top with oil, and placed it in a bowl to rise.

Each of these women are ordinary women doing an every day task that they enjoyed. From the inside they see themselves as average, normal people. What makes them step from the boundaries of ordinary to extraordinary?
For myself, it was the ability to go beyond what was expected. I was told that I am not afraid to learn something new. (Ya...right, don't ask me to bungee jump off a cliff.) Each one of these women here are a part of myself. I learned at a young age homemaking skills that many at my age either forgot how to do, or don't know how to do it. I learned to hunt, fish, grow gardens, cook and bake from scratch, needlepoint, basic sewing, cross stitching, crocheting, and the list goes on. I love singing and writing. Many of my younger years were spent with my nose buried in a book if I wasn't helping my mother with something.
I am not writing this to brag. It had never really occurred to me how many talents I was blessed, from God, with until a friend pointed it out. I just assumed everyone could do the things I do.

Photo by tlpoague

Take camping for example. In today's world the first thing to come to mind when the word "camping" is mentioned is an RV. A mobile unit with all the latest gadgets of luxury. In my mind is a tent, sleeping bags, outhouse (if one was provided), and the knowledge of how to cook over an open fire. I guess the word used today is "survival skills". I was oblivious to the fact that some people can't cook on an open fire. It takes a lot of practice and a certain amount of talent to do it.
There are a lot of things that I can't do that I am glad God blessed others with the talent to do. I can't figure out computer lingo. I am lucky enough to know out how to attach a picture to this article. Things like how to place the html into a link to earn money on my adsense is complicated. I am horrible at math. I have a fear of heights and am impressed to watch people jump from planes or any other kind of height. (I nearly had a stroke to see my son in the derricks of an oil rig.)
My point to all this babble is to ask...has someone told you that they felt you were an extraordinary person?
Jesus took twelve ordinary men and turned them into extraordinary people that went beyond the call of duty. Yes, even Judas was an extraordinary person. He downfall was the mistake of letting the love of money overcome the love of his Savior.
If you feel ordinary, what do you think it would take to become an extraordinary person? Inquiring minds would like to know.

tlpoague 2014