There is a distinct beauty in the way clouds float over the sun drenched prairies that makes my heart beat a little faster...

And when I see old farm houses. I want to know who the previous occupants were. Many of the houses I see are over 100 years old. And, I long to know the secrets their walls must hold.



Who were the people who use to lived there? What were their lives like? What were the things that brought them joy? What were their sorrows?

I wonder if they made ice cream on hot Summer days, and did their children chase fireflies on moonlit nights? Or where their lives filled with the harshness of poverty. With secret tales of abuse stained on floors and walls. All of these thoughts run through my mind when I see these houses .



These are the Cypress trees that surround lakes and ponds in my area of the country.

They whisper ancient tales of the Indians who lived here before us. The Kaskaskia, the Kickapoo, the Sac and Fox, and the Illini.

Sometimes they weep for them...so do i.




The little sailboats that reside at the lake seem to call my name...

To be on the water in Summer would be a dream come true.. John and I never got to do that.

Maybe someday I will heed the calling.
~Nita~

Tonight's song, Why by Annie Lennox
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one of my favorites...

A Fairy Story...

I saw a fairy today flying amongst the Hollyhocks.

Her beautiful blond hair was tied up with a blue string. She had a strawberry flower pinned in the back of her hair with a tiny pink bobby pin.

Her pet bee waited patiently in a flower collecting nectar for their supper.


The fairy was collecting the fragrance of the Hollyhocks to spread upon the wind.. She looked over and smiled at me so sweetly. I had seen her before when she had came to collect twine for her tiny house from my Morning Glories that grew on the porch. Her house was in the hollow limb of the 100 year old Maple tree in my back yard.



After she was done collecting the fragrance. I saw her land on the bee, she was using the silver webs from a spiders nest as a harness. She then yelled at the top of her tiny little lungs. Giddy up Marcia, my beautiful bumble bee we have sights to see. But before she left she took silver glitter out of her pocket and spread it on my porch.


I asked her why she would do that.
She smiled at me and said,
"Silver glitter attracts happiness."
And you have never minded that I took twine from your Morning Glories to fix my house.


So if you wake up someday and see silver glitter on your porch, just know that a fairy has come to call.


By Nita Barrow- Zimmerman

Dedicated to all the young at heart...





{I took all of these photos today. Please click on them to enlarge them.}

Today was a hard day for Elizabeth and me. We went to put flowers on John's grave and a terrible storm blew up with lighting and hail.
We decided to wait until tomorrow.

I got John a bouquet of white roses and Elizabeth picked out geraniums for him.

I use to have him make me a list of things he wanted for Father's Day and then I would save money for that day and go shopping to get what he wanted. Some years the list was small, some years larger. One year I saved my bonus from work and just gave it to him to go buy what he wanted. He was like a kid in a candy store.

I also cooked his favorite meal. He loved rhubarb and strawberry pie. I am going to make one tomorrow.

Many times we would drive to his Dad's grave on Father's Day. We didn't always take flowers..He just wanted to be there. To talk to his Dad for a few minutes. He loved to tell us stories about his Dad on the way there and on the way home. I loved listening to him talk.

Some of our best times were going for rides and talking.

John wasn't the perfect Dad. But he really wanted to be the perfect Dad. But in my heart I knew he tried the very best he could. And I tried to be the best Mom that I could be to the best of my ability.

We all have our own baggage to deal with and he had his fair share, just like me.

There was nothing more important to him than spending time with his family. He helped me with Girl Scouts the whole time Elizabeth was in it, and He was my Co-Leader.

He was a leader in a Christian form of Boy Scouts for several years for our boys.

He took them camping in January to earn their Polar Badge. He was always proud of that.
I try to remember the good things about John, not the bad things.

So many times people try to tear others down just because they can. Or they never let you live your past down. John didn't do that to people. Even when they deserved it.

I have thought all day about John, and every single day I ask God to tell John that I love him.

Words can never describe how much I miss him. Or how much our kids miss him. It is something you never get over.

Today, I also remembered how John loved me, and how I loved him. How I will always love him.
John I miss you...

~Nita~

Tonight's song, Everything I own by Bread
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If you can please listen to this.. This describes how I feel about John more than anything in the world.

Photo Challenge....

This photo challenge is about communication..

It is hosted by Cindra at Knits & Pics & Favorite Things. She is the first link on my favorites.

My photos are from a memory jar that Robin from Thrifty Miss Priss made me.

It was after John had passed. And she went through my blog and wrote out all of these cards from the comments that people had left me. When I received this jar in the mail. I cried. I was overwhelmed that someone would care enough to make such a labor of love for me.

The first picture has a comment from Deb at Vintage Moon Studio: The most fervent prayers are being lifted for you dear one & your family..

We communicate our deepest needs to God through prayer..







The second shot is of a card that has a quote from Donna at Made in Heaven: Go forward with Courage, When you are in Doubt be still & Wait.

I titled this photo Friendship.

We communicate our lives and who we are through friendships we develop on this earth. When we are in need how many times do we get a comment that lifts us from our darkest days. Or a phone call.. Or a friend drops by just to say hello. God gives us friends as a way to keep us close to Him..




We communicate by loving others. By being kind, and loving we change lives...Our love of others speaks louder than we realize.

Faith... We communicate through our faith. There is nothing I respect more than someone who has a true Faith.

~Nita~

Hope you all have a great weekend...

The Haunting of Ruby Shane (part4)

He slapped my face so hard I heard my jaw pop.
And I had this fleeting thought, " Could your head pop off from being hit that hard?"
Of course I knew it couldn't. That was ridiculous.

It was just a thought....
But, I actually saw stars and then everything went black.

"Ruby, why are you laying on the floor? Are you alright?" Momma's worried face hovered over mine.

"Oh my God!" She started crying when she saw my purple check and busted lip.

"It's alright Momma, I'm ok." I mumbled from swollen lips.

I remember smelling the blood before I felt it and how the stench of it made me feel sick. The blood from my lip had pooled up behind my ear. And it was sticky and congealed.

"Did he do this to you?" Before I could answer her she had already began running through the house looking for him. She didn't need an answer, there was no one else who would have done it but him.


"Where is he?" She had the rolling pin now, ready to inflict serious damage.

"Momma, stop. Just help me up I feel dizzy." My head felt like it was going to fall off.

Momma knelt down and held me. "I am so sorry baby." She cried until the front of my shirt was wet.

I didn't cry. I couldn't, it had happened too many times. All I felt was
rage.
Rage that my own Dad would do this to me. That he felt like slapping and hitting were the answer to everything. That hate was his main emotion.

Rage that he had slapped me for something trivial. I had forgot to bring him a beer when I left the kitchen.


But in my heart I knew I would make sure that he never hit me or Momma again.

Momma was so small, and she was barely eating. She was cleaning the homes of the wealthy to to put food on our table. Mowing lawns to clothe us.
I was not ashamed of her, I loved her. I only felt anger at the poverty we seemed never to escape from.

Anger that Momma barely had money to clothe us, yet the people she worked for had so many clothes that they wore them until they were all dirty. Then went out and bought new ones.

They are extremes in life, excessively poor and excessively rich. And being excessively poor is the worst one.

When Daddy had asked for help a few times he was made to feel like he was nothing. Lower than nothing.

No one should do that to another person. Make them feel like they aren't worth the dirt off their shoes. But that is what happened every time.

Then Daddy would be down for days and the drinking would start all over again. He was never able to tell his sisters how they made him feel. He took it out on us. Throwing Momma down the stairs once after getting into a fight with them.

Of course he was sorry, but wasn't he always sorry when he had gone too far?

I heard a knock at the door and I told Momma to help me up.
She told me to go wash my face. And when I came back out the surprise of my life was standing in my front room.

Thomas Shane.

to be continued....

by Nita Barrow- Zimmerman

Today's song, I Fall to Pieces by Patsy Cline
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