tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23500330078434459502024-03-05T23:56:27.935-07:00the celtic cowgirlhazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-36441631246250595902015-04-03T12:16:00.000-06:002015-04-03T12:23:07.279-06:00momma-to-be<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This May one of my sister's mares is due to foal, and has been brought out here for it. I anticipate camping out in the pasture with my sis when the time gets close, eating large amounts of chocolate covered coffee beans, birthing checklist in one hand, phone with vet on speed-dial in the other - 'cause it's only been i dunno <i>ten years</i> since we last had a pregnant mare on our hands! </div>
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This 'gram of the momma-to-be was taken about a month ago, before she was moved out to my place. (I need to get out an take a new one before she pops but I'm forever forgetting to take my phone when I feed.) She's very big now, with only 4 - 6 weeks to go. The little mite is an active fellow, rolling and pushing against my hand when I check her each morning. Sometimes a little bump will sprout and wander down her side before disappearing again. In the new morning when I'm still not <i>all </i>the way awake, I find myself sitting in the hay, marveling over this everyday miracle.</div>
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hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-10902947644042280882015-02-24T14:30:00.004-07:002015-02-24T14:30:57.052-07:00it's only words<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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highs, lows<br />
migraines, and early birdsong<br />
old friends & goodbyes<br />
a tiny thrill of freedom<br />
<br />
try and make sense of it, let me know what you find.<br />
my world is topsy-turvy, and right now -- that's just fine.<br />
<br />
I don't have any words right now, as you can see. The ones that come out are barely (if that) coherent. It's a jumbled mess as I try to work through the scars and attempt to 'feel' again. It's odd, being disembodied from your emotions. I'm afraid that I have grown too used to it, and almost enjoy it.<br />
The problem is you really can't write without emotion, at least I can't.<br />
I have grown tired of this apathy<br />
and miss living in my world<br />
- too much of this one, I guess.<br />
So this, this will be my year.hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-61175260056959893502015-02-03T17:30:00.000-07:002015-02-03T17:30:19.075-07:00frosty stars<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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a silent peace<br />
muffled, gathering...<br />
<br />
downy snowflakes<br />
all around<br />
<br />
they come to rest one by one<br />
on the doe's long lashes, above her liquid eye<br />
her breath like a cloud, still - yet swirling<br />
up to the stars to join the crystal frosts above<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">a little scribble in the margins of Winterkiln</span></i><br />
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<br />hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-63127006795494883912015-01-15T18:26:00.001-07:002015-01-15T18:26:35.867-07:00bandwagon beginnings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's the 15th already. 15 days into the 15th year of the 21st century.</div>
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I am the kind of person who needs New Years to reevaluate and re-plan and gain new perspective. New years have such hope and promise in them. A promise I think we all crave by December.</div>
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Something new. A better year than last. A new start.</div>
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For me</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">2015</span> </i>means more...</div>
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<i>-late night writing under the covers</i></div>
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<i>-picture-taking of special people and special things</i></div>
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<i>-whimsical watercolors, just because</i></div>
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<i>-adventures in tea tasting </i></div>
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<i>-more daring celtic fiddling</i></div>
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<i>-horse kisses & saddle sore legs</i></div>
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<i>-keeping up with old friends: </i></div>
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<i>'come on over for some random new tea and s'mores by the fireplace!'</i></div>
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<i>-travels to the sea</i></div>
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<i>-singing with the piano</i></div>
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<i>-devotion to Christ</i></div>
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<i>...and hopefully a novel or two finished by Christmas</i></div>
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hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-33475393665987720242014-12-13T15:20:00.004-07:002014-12-13T15:20:53.711-07:00christmas and candlelight<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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The most wonderful time of the year.<br />
- Digging out the good old Christmas cds, dusting off the stereo and Elvis Presley's <i>Blue Christmas</i><br />
- Waiting for a day of non-sub-zero temperatures to ferry all the Christmas trimmings from storage to the house (<i>not hard this year when yesterday was 60*</i>)<br />
- Tweaking the nativity figurines a dozen and one times<br />
- Hot chocolate is always on the shopping list<br />
- Little helping hands and a large pitcher quench a thirsty tree (... and the carpet...)<br />
- Stockings hung by the fireplace with care<br />
- Innocent, wondering eyes reflecting the light of the Advent wreath<br />
- Shopping the local boutiques for just the right gift, Blackbird coffee in hand<br />
And every where the gentle glow of candles that whisper - not shout - the underlying hope of the season: <i>He's coming!</i>hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-19384676877983986252014-11-08T14:04:00.000-07:002014-11-08T14:04:20.540-07:00Not-NaNo week 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Word must have got out that I am "kinda-sorta-not" participating in NaNoWriM this year. I am as ill and muddled as a parrot in damp weather.<br />
<br />
My hope was that by saying I wasn't and by not officially signing up this year, I would avoid the bad juju that WITHOUT FAIL befalls me each time I have attempted the hallowed November 50k. Every year I've tried at least one of my animals has either gotten sick or run over, and I have come down with either the flu or some new headcold of horrors (NaNo 2009, 2011, and 2012). Last year I said, "no way!", for the first time succumbing to superstition. This year, while still wary, I thought I could skirt the problem by not signing up, and instead of having a goal of 50,000 words, merely try to write every day.<br />
And now look at me. The end of week one and I've already been sick for three days. bah.<br />
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I hope you all are having better luck than I - how many of you are participating this year? You can leave a link to your NaNo profile below if you'd like!<br />
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No snippets from me this week (mostly because it would involve me having to get up and hunt for my notebook, and secondly, what I have written so far is pretty bare bones :/). I'll make up for it next week! In the mean time, here's a couple of quotes from (<b style="font-style: italic;">vastly</b><i> - haha</i>) different authors that have kept me going this first week...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirscN7Gz1J9qTlqB2cn73HPACXeFZJDYtur0iTPqzZBL0oZR5ZCTU7rKEseSM970vdQwV4YUyXaJRGQ75GJRb5tnmThhP-ot6Ixo9nw8j-1QbbW33yNevEa0O3rFz_BH-gduRFpsL3ei-/s1600/f5335c01587dba06dfb9f1105da9e995.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirscN7Gz1J9qTlqB2cn73HPACXeFZJDYtur0iTPqzZBL0oZR5ZCTU7rKEseSM970vdQwV4YUyXaJRGQ75GJRb5tnmThhP-ot6Ixo9nw8j-1QbbW33yNevEa0O3rFz_BH-gduRFpsL3ei-/s1600/f5335c01587dba06dfb9f1105da9e995.jpg" /></a></div>
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hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-69687749952401136372014-10-30T12:24:00.000-06:002014-10-30T12:24:13.123-06:00the lowdown on WINTERKILN<div style="text-align: center;">
(it only took two months) </div>
Heeyyy, guys! Remember <a href="http://thelegendslive.blogspot.com/2014/08/in-which-i-do-eventually-reveal-skyrian.html" target="_blank">back in August</a> when I was all pumped to do a short series on the story notebooks I've got my pen in? heheh... yeeah.<br />
I give up trying to figure out this whole "life" and "work" thing. I think by now we both know that I can't always get around it. Being a grown-up kinda sucks that way. But you didn't click over here to listen to me bemoan my nonexistent work/play/write routine.<br />
ON WITH THE SHOW!<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Winterkiln</b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-ZUjP_ONX3lGp9xrMTjaAHhscvBPkcUdYvXd65STbm58SpHCXYpLtWPG-Q1j8rqmXTuvtLM1ctJ_uo5OxwEFcI-JcBoDw4_DXB-hO82Ny-59XextNUIdHvN1lfFIsR2cdaFe-fMJi1V9/s1600/3b9186a5bbac9793baa7ab321baf88c9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX-ZUjP_ONX3lGp9xrMTjaAHhscvBPkcUdYvXd65STbm58SpHCXYpLtWPG-Q1j8rqmXTuvtLM1ctJ_uo5OxwEFcI-JcBoDw4_DXB-hO82Ny-59XextNUIdHvN1lfFIsR2cdaFe-fMJi1V9/s1600/3b9186a5bbac9793baa7ab321baf88c9.jpg" /></a></div>
I have always been intensely intrigued by the roles of angels, demons, and their spiritual ilk. How they might be involved in the physical world, what their 'jobs' are/could be, and other threads & imaginings intensified by writer in the middle of <i>The Screwtape Letters</i>.<br />
<i>Winterkiln</i> came to be a sort of outlet for all the inspiration and ideas on the subject that sparked whilst I read parts of the Bible, the above mentioned, and various myths and legends.<br />
I want to make it quite clear up front that I am not attempting any type of allegory in <i>Winterkiln</i>. I don't want to limit myself by trying to interpret what the Bible has to say on the subject, as I have neither the smarts nor the courage to even try. This story, like most of my others, is certainly drawn from facts and real world inspiration, but is purely fantasy.<br />
So, in a nutshell, if I ever die famous like Lewis or Tolkien, I don't want you all to go picking about in it searching for heavenly revelations. That is all. ha<br />
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I can tell you that there are beings <i>like</i> angels*, creatures <i>like</i> demons*, and... well, Man. But he's just about as clueless as he's ever been so moving on.<br />
This is a story about the eternal battleground between good and evil, light and dark, black and white, and that awful grey betwixt them...<br />
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Unlike the <i><a href="http://thelegendslive.blogspot.com/2014/08/in-which-i-do-eventually-reveal-skyrian.html" target="_blank">Skyrian</a></i> post, I'm not going to give a 'summary of so far', because there isn't much of a 'so far' yet. I'm still hashing out where I think the story is going (for now), and so really only have a couple of pages of draft. Though lots of character sketches, reference, snippets of scenes, and a blurry outline.<br />
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<b>The World of Winterkiln</b><br />
As far as real world era equivalent, I would put it around 280 - 400 AD, still pretty archaic as far as technology goes, since this is primarily set in the North. It reminds me of Roman Britain.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8sWD-KfaMME784EtDc1dhsovNWu5r-7iw6ccqyOHwSNS7bp_2fLO576NGNcxQvLQVznWxZxrqdhwEFW5aQrZ7mkt5HiJq0P4nrI7CctMB6a81Ob_3KfqRhHiYtrqaRoGV58vii74OJmoJ/s1600/19ec3f191775271de168e40106f65bc0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8sWD-KfaMME784EtDc1dhsovNWu5r-7iw6ccqyOHwSNS7bp_2fLO576NGNcxQvLQVznWxZxrqdhwEFW5aQrZ7mkt5HiJq0P4nrI7CctMB6a81Ob_3KfqRhHiYtrqaRoGV58vii74OJmoJ/s1600/19ec3f191775271de168e40106f65bc0.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a>It is a world distinctly divided by race. 'Angels' are first and foremost servants of the 'Light' (<i>whyyyy can't I come up with brilliant names in a pinch??</i>), but secondly the guardians of men. The majority of them are soldiers, and all must attend a military school from a young age, though not all go on to be fighters. Some become government leaders, teachers, doctors, and the like. In the more populous and educated southern parts they live openly amongst Men, but in more barbaric regions must disguise their nature, for though they are capable of laying waste to entire armies of the dark, they may not defend themselves against the ignorance & suspicions of men. And thus the dog barks at the chained lion.<br />
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Men are still making mistakes, blunders, and learning things the hard way, while simultaneously building, exploring, creating, and living.<br />
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'Demons'. The buggers are giving me a heck of a time trying to figure them out. I know what I <i>don't</i> want, and that's shadowy figures with red eyes creeping on the innocent. Nor are they all Lucifers with power to rival arch angels. No, the majority of these are more crafty underlings, whose strength is in numbers and deception. Shape-shifters and changelings. But there are greater demons, too, and who can forget the King of Sheol with his appetite for the power of human souls.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">qumrana</td></tr>
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The land is also torn in half by a strict border between the angelically perceived Light and Dark, a no man's land well guarded by the Light in order to hold back the insidious forces beyond. And also the riffraff. Man lives in nearly equal parts on either side of the border and their foolish insistence on mixing and tearing down the border's walls causes great headaches for the angels.<br />
Other than that, the good land is a lot like anywhere. It's warm in the south, where the Light has its seat of power in the golden city of Qumrana, where angels and men live side by side. The North (that's with a capital n), however is frozen and buried in snow nine months of the year, and its people are poor and often hostile to outsiders.<br />
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<b>Meet the MC</b></div>
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Hadriel: the (angel) through whose eyes we will see the world.</div>
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Daughter of the ex-general Hadrian, Hadriel is a graduate of Qumrana's elite military academy. Recently completing her first assignment in the city, her rank allows her the opportunity to volunteer for a post in locations across the country. Expected to remain near the capital and rise through the ranks like her father before her, there is only one place that stirs her strong sense of duty: a remote border post far away in the frozen North. It's dangerous, it's remote, and it's in need of a new captain. Precisely what she has been training for.</div>
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Only one problem: she's engaged to be married.</div>
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I <i>love</i> Hadriel. She's who I want to be when I grow up. She is a soldier, a master of her craft. Calm and calculating, never revealing all her cards. Intensely driven by her duty and incredibly capable of carrying it out, no matter the challenge. She defines quiet confidence.</div>
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At least, she all these things <i>before</i> I send her north... (insert diabolical laughter)</div>
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There are of course supporting characters I could talk a little about, but the plot does move very quickly and two of them play pivotal roles that if I blabbed about could give everything away. And the lesser ones don't have pictures yet. You see my dilemma? I'm afraid you'll just have to gaze upon the pale beauty above a wonder about her future since, I realize, I've given you very little of the actual plot. I'm saving 'story mode' for another post. Sorry!</div>
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In the meantime, have a look into Hadriel's world...</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwD7MI1vcbJZlUXPGt1byjr-95rtnsRMBnOdEbmR6dvKEsAcpvuqzAP5jZxarIfn1NAqKbx3jyrUOuShR_D_7u-JWNHxutBh4KNpK6tXFlEgDlKgDk2lN0QVcnCr3XJ1TYiRcHx-zVOG0q/s1600/d34a170b302acae9d535d7773208e289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwD7MI1vcbJZlUXPGt1byjr-95rtnsRMBnOdEbmR6dvKEsAcpvuqzAP5jZxarIfn1NAqKbx3jyrUOuShR_D_7u-JWNHxutBh4KNpK6tXFlEgDlKgDk2lN0QVcnCr3XJ1TYiRcHx-zVOG0q/s1600/d34a170b302acae9d535d7773208e289.jpg" height="473" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the capital city of qumrana</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">better days: young hadriel & her father</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWX02vjcvoHmTchemCNhDUd55W08pum7daddeXOlju08T2NKvqJy0NWtYdsBdYXx1QbN4ZyK-C-HXoX9Pu9L7s0Haywf9CNjg6HucO11m-D30FKZ_ugcVMQztCvm0UVipvNUN7v46MaXIr/s1600/315084d02dc5989e4331ac5a0a9ac3ac.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWX02vjcvoHmTchemCNhDUd55W08pum7daddeXOlju08T2NKvqJy0NWtYdsBdYXx1QbN4ZyK-C-HXoX9Pu9L7s0Haywf9CNjg6HucO11m-D30FKZ_ugcVMQztCvm0UVipvNUN7v46MaXIr/s1600/315084d02dc5989e4331ac5a0a9ac3ac.jpg" height="400" width="299" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNcH2b1JM25SFH-Xi3-DB54JoBV3DAbOeWHWU15SluS0saIAixUNqXVoI-9Ocut7liGfsk_DpBwPupmrDqXcsrzgwQxqDbbdYoIhG3IU2kwUZqnq5PjKG0vgbPsHaSntZlnbdX3hNyrRY/s1600/372bf8215ad28542287a79e3d0432024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNcH2b1JM25SFH-Xi3-DB54JoBV3DAbOeWHWU15SluS0saIAixUNqXVoI-9Ocut7liGfsk_DpBwPupmrDqXcsrzgwQxqDbbdYoIhG3IU2kwUZqnq5PjKG0vgbPsHaSntZlnbdX3hNyrRY/s1600/372bf8215ad28542287a79e3d0432024.jpg" height="400" width="311" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">northern outpost</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmuCUYQbp4raJMm6bJ83HsE0gJNxeYLCNZTichrOFmCIUURg6VoUXvWdRKzzw1CQdSvg8Ijy3JBsLr9dCvhQ1RuM5oDuA0hJqXZXAPJEayugPoXIUJVy5i6wCJsHeffZvIYDYJ4BcXmVx/s1600/d1369feb7508d266aa01b003145a946b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmuCUYQbp4raJMm6bJ83HsE0gJNxeYLCNZTichrOFmCIUURg6VoUXvWdRKzzw1CQdSvg8Ijy3JBsLr9dCvhQ1RuM5oDuA0hJqXZXAPJEayugPoXIUJVy5i6wCJsHeffZvIYDYJ4BcXmVx/s1600/d1369feb7508d266aa01b003145a946b.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">by tony diterlizzi</td></tr>
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Oddly, it has been much easier to find pictures that evoke the feeling and bent of <i>Winterkiln</i> than it ever has been for <i>Skyrian</i>. Which really surprised me since medieval-esque stories are more or less 'in' right now. But whatever. I'll take my pins as they come. :)<br />
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/hazelmarie23/novel-winterkiln/" target="_blank">winterkiln's pinterest board</a></div>
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*if anyone knows of better names for these creatures, give me a shout! I've been hunting in different languages, Hebrew, Hindi, Gaelic, and Arabic but haven't found anything satisfactory.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">disclaimer: i of course own none of these pictures, all were found via pinterest.com</span></div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F2.bp.blogspot.com%2F-VftO1vsnhzo%2FVFEybiTv63I%2FAAAAAAAAEXs%2FgKU_nXBch2I%2Fs1600%2Fd1369feb7508d266aa01b003145a946b.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOmuCUYQbp4raJMm6bJ83HsE0gJNxeYLCNZTichrOFmCIUURg6VoUXvWdRKzzw1CQdSvg8Ijy3JBsLr9dCvhQ1RuM5oDuA0hJqXZXAPJEayugPoXIUJVy5i6wCJsHeffZvIYDYJ4BcXmVx/s1600/d1369feb7508d266aa01b003145a946b.jpg" -->hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-20190809693050147192014-10-06T19:53:00.000-06:002014-10-06T19:53:11.904-06:00it's HERE: PLENILUNE cover reveal<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(so basically, if you haven't heard about this by <i>now - </i>you live under a blogger-rock. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">i'm a tad late to the festivities due to the fact that we were cutting firewood today :)</span></div>
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It's <i><b>here</b></i>, you guys! The brand-spankin' new glossy that will adorn the front of <a href="http://thepenslayer.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><b>Jennifer Freitag's</b></a> much anticipated <i>Plenilune</i>! And it is glorious.</div>
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<i><b>The fate of Plenilune hangs on the election of the Overlord, for which Rupert de la Mare and his brother are the only contenders, but when Rupert’s unwilling bride-to-be uncovers his plot to murder his brother, the conflict explodes into civil war.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>To assure the minds of the lord-electors of Plenilune that he has some capacity for humanity, Rupert de la Mare has been asked to woo and win a lady before he can become the Overlord, and he will do it—even if he has to kidnap her.</b></i></div>
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<i><b>En route to Naples to catch a suitor, Margaret Coventry was not expecting a suitor to catch her.</b></i></div>
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Baited, much?</div>
I am exceedingly interested to see how the 'planetary' part of the fiction plays out. (<a href="http://thepenslayer.blogspot.com/2014/07/what-is-planetary-fantasy.html" target="_blank"><i>What is planetary fiction?</i></a>) What new realms of imagination and scene await us beyond this cover? Only October 20th can tell us.<br />
You can rest assured that I will be snapping the is up directly on the 20th (unless it's available for preorder, in which case it's already mine.) Few know this about me for I tend not to spread it about as it annoys and alarms some bookworms, but I do not like buying 'new' books. Too often I've been hopeful about well-reviewed books and spent hard earned money only to be bored, amazed (at what gets published these days), surprised (at what slips by editors), and downright disappointed (I'm looking at you, <i>Divergent</i>). In the end I'm basically paying and average of $20 for a Paperback Swap credit. *dying whale noise*<br />
So I request <i>a lot</i> of books at my library, and buy only the ones that knock me off my feet. My bookcase may be small, but I will be buried with the ones that line it.<br />
That beings said, <i>Plenilune</i> is a safe gamble for me to take. I have read and loved Freitag's first novel <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Shadow-Things-Jennifer-Freitag/dp/1935507397/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1412645598&sr=8-1&keywords=jennifer+freitag" target="_blank">The Shadow Things</a>,</i> and I am beyond excited to see how her writing has matured since.<br />
Still wavering? Here's what advance readers are saying, interspersed with pins from the author's pinboard:<br />
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I'm in love.</div>
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PLENILUNE - JENNIFER FREITAG</div>
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coming october 20th, 2014</div>
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[<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22818137-plenilune" target="_blank">find it on Goodreads</a>]</div>
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<br />
<br />hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-65260764777230448732014-09-30T14:22:00.000-06:002014-09-30T15:43:43.539-06:00prairie rain<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Here the rain tastes sweet, the air a soft hush, the grass quieted underfoot. The birds tuck in, the ducks paddle about, and the cottontails scrub their little faces.<br />
The geese are leaving, and the turkeys are gobbling, and I try to listen for the meadowlark's last song, not ready for the snowy silence they will leave behind.<br />
I have drunk more tea in the last two days than I have all summer, and I can't help but think how nice it is to be <i>cozy</i> again.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">p.s. <i>Winterkiln </i>post is in the works! i just have to find the all-important sheet of facts that i - err - misplaced... </span>hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-31983132096329897342014-09-13T11:07:00.001-06:002014-09-13T11:08:31.379-06:00so you think YOU have volatile weather These last two weeks have been wild with summer abundance. Canning, harvesting, riding, fencing (not as awesome, but still largely a summer project). It's been hot, I've been sweating and turning brown. Overall just happy to spend my days in my favorite weather, where the days are hot enough to play in sprinklers, but the evenings are crisp with the promise of orange pumpkins and yellow leaves.<br />
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Okay, I'll admit, it wasn't <i>perfect</i>. There was (and is) quite a bit of frustration with the fence and rogue ponies. But it's easier to look back and see only that golden sunlight on the apple trees.</div>
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(juvenile mountain bluebird)</div>
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Beautiful puffy summer clouds. Fair weather fo'ever, right?........</div>
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right.</div>
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This is what I woke up to Thursday morning. Overnight the soft rainy drizzle that fell the day before turned into this muck. (sorry, I'm a little bitter. Last year we had eight months of snow, and I've never much cared for the stuff ANYWAY.)</div>
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I mean, what the heck. Technically it's still summer! The henpecked weatherman assures us that by this time next week we'll be back in the 80*s, but the damage is done. My tomatoes and squash and cucumbers and beans are all dead. *sigh*<br />
I'm glad we got the fence done. Now the hurry to winterize the farm will really get going:<br />
Wood to be chopped<br />
(so much wood... I love fire),<br />
ducks to cull (we can't have two piggy males),<br />
hay to stack,<br />
chicken houses to clean, and heatlamps to install.<br />
I kinda hate having to prepare for the bleak months ahead in September...<br />
I love where I live, but there has <i>got</i> to be a better climate for me - like the equator :)hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-67961667235468526842014-08-24T14:45:00.000-06:002014-08-24T14:45:06.761-06:00just a note<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_1K_HroCKM2v_lmUpKELTPciecnsvwXz_9wOlivJ0anOWrAfiFj_1pNBOS1KZTEMjE_qyCn5Nb1teob-q_ThYInShh46iTfyVsgHsoPhxC2QssHTeciLhZWYsHOahgzF7jE-iL4_-spLX/s1600/9f418b2414abb38fe6b820e432131ae8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_1K_HroCKM2v_lmUpKELTPciecnsvwXz_9wOlivJ0anOWrAfiFj_1pNBOS1KZTEMjE_qyCn5Nb1teob-q_ThYInShh46iTfyVsgHsoPhxC2QssHTeciLhZWYsHOahgzF7jE-iL4_-spLX/s1600/9f418b2414abb38fe6b820e432131ae8.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ha! i wish...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Just a note to say (if you haven't already guessed) that I'm postponing the next few posts a few days, in order to install an entirely different kind of post: metal t-posts to be exact.<br />
'You've got to make hay while the sun shines', as the saying goes, only this time for us it's fence repair. whee - nope.<br />
Sorry guys! Will be back soon!hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-89985800579012876562014-08-15T10:28:00.001-06:002014-08-15T10:28:36.085-06:00in which i DO eventually reveal SKYRIAN<div style="text-align: center;">
(<i>hm, yes, well... this was actually supposed to have published last friday, but it seems i checked the wrong box on the calendar... derp!</i>)</div>
<br />
I would love to introduce my dearest story with great pomp and a spectacular, scrolling name, but the fact of the matter is it... doesn't have one. Yes, the story I have been scribbling in odd notebooks since I was thirteen still has a working title. #awkwardauthormoment<br />
<a href="http://thepenslayer.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Jenny</a> once posted that you're no type of author if you can't come up with a decent name for your creations. I must admit this knocked me for a loop until I was reminded that opinions (even from such admired and esteemed wordcrafters like Jenny) are not necessarily fact. The more I thought about it, the more I agreed (and not entirely out of self-pity, either - ha). Different people are talented in different ways (<i>have you seen Jenny's titles? <a href="http://katie-writingblog.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Katelyn's</a>? I drool, I drool!</i>). Some people can pluck award winning titles like berries on a bush, others - like me - have to wait (and wait) for them to spring out of said bush, a bit like a rabid squirrel: at once sudden and alarming, but also excitedly anticipated.<br />
Basically, you should assume that all of my titles are working titles (or in some cases placeholders for Pinterest board names), with the exception of <i>Winterkiln</i>. By some miracle that squirrel leaped quite early on.<br />
I think that's far enough down <i>that</i> rabbit trail...<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><b> Skyrian</b></i></span></div>
<b>Summary of So Far-</b><br />
Skyrian is a tale that unfolds in the land of Ithreal. A country renowned for it's horses and horsemen but divided by feuds, its history has been anything but peaceful pastures.<br />
Civil war is again brimming on the horizon between an oppressed north country and the affluent Crown Loyalist counties to the south. But Cilla could hardly care less about the future of a land that cared not for her when her own was at stake. At nearly fifteen, she, Tyrel, and Emy are nearing the end of their lives unless they can escape the Master.<br />
When an escape plan goes awry in the northern seaport town of Daryn, Cilla has little hope of seeing the next dawn, let alone her birthday.<br />
Yet lilies grow in the midst of mire.<br />
With the sudden eruption of civil war, a Keltish horseman, and a black stallion, Cilla is given a second chance. But the price of freedom may prove too heavy...<br />
<br />
<b>Cast of Characters-</b><br />
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Cilla</div>
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dark brownish-black hair (contrary to the above picture), blue eyes<br />
At this point, Cilla is kind of hard for me to summarize since I know her better post-big change, and it's that version of her that talks loudest in my mind. But here it goes...<br />
Like Tyrel and Emy, she has grown up under the Master's hand, scrounging, stealing, and playing card tricks in dirty ale houses and inns up and down the country to appease his wont of money.<br />
Cilla is streetsmart, light-fingered, and a good judge of people. She has a sharp tongue, and can be cruel with it. She cares for little besides Emy and her own skin. She doesn't get into trouble without having a quick way out of it.<br />
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Tyrel<br />
red hair, hazel eyes, freckles</div>
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Tyrel and Cilla, while close, often butt heads. He often takes unnecessary risks. Quietly, Cilla resents that instead of acting like an older brother he dodges any responsibility toward the girls, and will even hide behind them if a scheme goes particularly badly. </div>
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But he's not all bad. He's clever and charming, wickedly gifted at expunging coin from even the most tight-fisted widows. Think of a young, moralless Flynn Rider with lying eyes and you'll be close.<br />
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Emy</div>
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light blond hair, blue eyes<br />
Cilla describes her as 'angelic'. She is not stupid or naive but has, despite her surroundings and experiences, maintained an air of innocence. She is the only religious one in the band, owing to a monk's kindness to her as an orphan before she was taken by the Master. Right away Cilla began looking after her, and continues to try and shelter her from the worst. But sometimes - in Cilla's opinion - Emy's virtue goes too far. Emy stubbornly refuses to steal, though the penalties of not bringing in enough money are high. Instead she does grotty jobs for strangers, washing or mending clothes, cleaning filthy inn rooms, and often being rewarded with less money than she was promised.<br />
She has but one earthly good, and that is a small metal cross set with a red stone.<br />
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The Master</div>
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Here's a real pice of work; <i>Skyrian</i>'s first villain. A palm reader once told him he would die at the hand of a child turning grown. (In Ithreal, the age at which one begins adulthood is 15.) rarely travels to the southern counties, were he is wanted for warcrimes committed during the Rebellion. Carries an old military dagger on a leather cord around his neck.</div>
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Still tweaking the finer points of his motivation.</div>
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The Keltish horseman, Aidan</div>
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(just imagine him a good 15 years older)</div>
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The Kells, where Aidan is from is a huge high plain stretching between the western mountains and the sea. If you need a mental image, you can think of it as Wales only... flatter, higher, and surrounded by mountains, and prime horse country. Technically it's all Ithreal, but if you were to ask a Kelt or a Northman, they would tell you to go boil your head (Northmen are more likely to identify with their clans). The Kelts are semi-nomadic, grazing their herds of horses far and wide over the plains. They have few 'cities'. By Ithreal's standards of stone, brick, and mortar, they're more wooden outposts and shantytowns, and ruins of castles whose names and purposes have long been forgotten.</div>
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The black stallion</div>
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<b>The Northcountry, Port of Daryn</b></div>
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<b>& its peoples</b></div>
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The Northcounrty is a rough place to live. It's cold, it's damp, and if you don't like fish or mutton, you're going to starve. They're a breed of their own up there, with volatile alliances and long memories.<br />
I'm using primarily pictures of vikings to give you an idea of these people, but please note: they are fishermen - not marauders.<br />
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I hope you enjoyed this post as much as I did writing it! I will continue to write updates as I steam along (albeit rather slowly), and can't wait to write up the next installment of this little blog series!<br />
If you would like to see more about Skyrian, here is the link to its <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/hazelmarie23/series-skyrian/" target="_blank"><b>pinboard</b></a>.<br />
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<i>disclaimer: all images via pinterest.com</i></div>
hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-5226453612012368332014-08-06T07:00:00.000-06:002014-08-06T07:00:01.467-06:00introducing old friends with new facesVery soon I am going to begin a short series of posts reintroducing everyone to the novels and series that I am writing and living in. They have all changes so dramatically since I last wrote here about them, I thought this would be a good way to 'reset'.<br />
I've planned just three posts for now (one for each book), but if interest is piqued, than I will happily churn out more. Once I get started talking about my stories I get excited all over again and captive audiences find it difficult to shut me up...<br />
Anyway, there will be summaries of the bits I've actually penned so far (I've forbade myself from leaping ahead to the up-coming but yet unwritten events, in hopes of creating more incentive to do so).<br />
There will also be character profiles, glimpses into their lands and cultures, perhaps a bit of writerly advice (learned from hard experience), and <b>pins</b>. Lots and lots and lots of pins. You will get to <i>see</i> what these characters and places look like in my mind. Oh Pinterest, what would I do without you?<br />
These are the stories you will be hearing from:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KAW9mmD_H1zBpdQLcUkpuW_64_v9l-V6ZxXx4zF6vcDYjTIKSK-gum0gG9m6CbchSZ3ogA8H6qDGhTtWl43fWVwVF3aJ5D7_IktQmeyAaaWoexuvrfJyYJ1WyOxBza_t9E7ojtmRKJHq/s1600/107f31acd4cb400b6c8eca9145e0a07f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0KAW9mmD_H1zBpdQLcUkpuW_64_v9l-V6ZxXx4zF6vcDYjTIKSK-gum0gG9m6CbchSZ3ogA8H6qDGhTtWl43fWVwVF3aJ5D7_IktQmeyAaaWoexuvrfJyYJ1WyOxBza_t9E7ojtmRKJHq/s1600/107f31acd4cb400b6c8eca9145e0a07f.jpg" height="400" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Skyrian</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(fantasy)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMcyw3h-YOk-yuKfSy-27RiPd3zKzJTd4L2K9y12Fd9NvcUNw31svNPRQ60qRHKirOXCqDoekHYwbrvVQq3yP_T1qGqPFjibnDtgI7ptaZOiD9VdGFJmofISVAObkivrVCbknZfVNRTAL9/s1600/6d609a1ba4d10b909faf2fe609ebe5b0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMcyw3h-YOk-yuKfSy-27RiPd3zKzJTd4L2K9y12Fd9NvcUNw31svNPRQ60qRHKirOXCqDoekHYwbrvVQq3yP_T1qGqPFjibnDtgI7ptaZOiD9VdGFJmofISVAObkivrVCbknZfVNRTAL9/s1600/6d609a1ba4d10b909faf2fe609ebe5b0.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Two Feathers</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(historical fiction)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBA6uZZo4Tu6laHiDjSfiPDYKSb44wGNxLa4iqTUfd8D0bopuJY9iMIpSKkq3VuAfrA-ZBxWvhHNZYa2dyB-gSyDx0OR2pS1zjfWzf3F9WPZem4UJRMWD8nJZTKySvTfzgCJKe42a61HGv/s1600/7863663b6d77ea6f5197288b89606ab6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBA6uZZo4Tu6laHiDjSfiPDYKSb44wGNxLa4iqTUfd8D0bopuJY9iMIpSKkq3VuAfrA-ZBxWvhHNZYa2dyB-gSyDx0OR2pS1zjfWzf3F9WPZem4UJRMWD8nJZTKySvTfzgCJKe42a61HGv/s1600/7863663b6d77ea6f5197288b89606ab6.jpg" height="400" width="226" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Winterkiln</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
(fantasy)</div>
<br />
Are you excited? I am!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>disclaimer: please note that i do not own any of these images, all were found via pinterest.com-</i></div>
hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-37618519460377360802014-08-03T17:29:00.001-06:002014-08-04T12:20:32.501-06:00blazing saddles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwQVOcah4iQZFlkiDpRNU3iVjmQy8AaqUeeSmFGawKzCpPZN1JcpztNyrA_l87mNdIr1oiV8N8M5aM51eR2VKLTIZM6SDD5D8cPdL9UeqBgc5QIgJqTJHU0V5x-LBpomf4Fd8M_TdQfqz/s1600/saddle3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUwQVOcah4iQZFlkiDpRNU3iVjmQy8AaqUeeSmFGawKzCpPZN1JcpztNyrA_l87mNdIr1oiV8N8M5aM51eR2VKLTIZM6SDD5D8cPdL9UeqBgc5QIgJqTJHU0V5x-LBpomf4Fd8M_TdQfqz/s1600/saddle3.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv2s1i12U-ficBjRcWZpD4f37A4OcsaSj_UK5E-s-DNBR1ltg78Gf8zzAkEAYWWujwuPuv0umReUfLIZYaNfrFM-zc3iLH2qLvuN5G7RBnksvHmRs3FqkaUCw56Z_6kEqNfJ4lQF2a-Pzw/s1600/saddle1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv2s1i12U-ficBjRcWZpD4f37A4OcsaSj_UK5E-s-DNBR1ltg78Gf8zzAkEAYWWujwuPuv0umReUfLIZYaNfrFM-zc3iLH2qLvuN5G7RBnksvHmRs3FqkaUCw56Z_6kEqNfJ4lQF2a-Pzw/s1600/saddle1.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
It's hot as blazes here, so what better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than baking on the front porch with a bottle of foaming saddle soap in one hand and a polishing cloth in the other? (p.s. I love this Leather New Foam stuff - wax on, wax off & ta daa!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvF4SiSPX9oK8k_9Mr39N7KKgGsFJw_2_TY506OAzBjgzNTeNf9bgbtKcfQ4_-edUlYGZ9tvvcKvmg8aL65BQolgsmUTPS4yskjptLR1XH-MpZwPVb6XOmxLdGT0LDnE4A8ajIXDQFligS/s1600/saddle5contrast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvF4SiSPX9oK8k_9Mr39N7KKgGsFJw_2_TY506OAzBjgzNTeNf9bgbtKcfQ4_-edUlYGZ9tvvcKvmg8aL65BQolgsmUTPS4yskjptLR1XH-MpZwPVb6XOmxLdGT0LDnE4A8ajIXDQFligS/s1600/saddle5contrast.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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I will be the first to admit that I rarely (read: never) clean my saddle, besides the occasional dust off after a particularly dusty arena. The truth is it's probably better for it if you don't deep clean unless a) you're showing b) it's filthy, or c) it got wet in the rain because that hag of a lead mare wouldn't come home.</div>
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Conditioning on the other hand can be very important, if, for example, your saddle got scuffed up by a cinderblock. (please don't ask. I'm an ambitious multitasking idiot, is all. <i>shame</i>.)</div>
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I had to condition the raw leather that had been scuffed, and that was all I was planning to do, but... once I got started and saw that cow hide start to gleam in this mid summer sun, I kinda couldn't stop... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkJkn5gQ1yxGWK3Zbx0M9oHh87udi5YmjMHQkuD1rll-PdJ-setPrh_btIuxKL7k4uvqGZRPxbqBmUYxoPYdjERqYVKxaRlIaxJtq2D1kbKzWZ2x1xTHE16VqnuxKI64KoEYH9ftEfWOq/s1600/saddle2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrkJkn5gQ1yxGWK3Zbx0M9oHh87udi5YmjMHQkuD1rll-PdJ-setPrh_btIuxKL7k4uvqGZRPxbqBmUYxoPYdjERqYVKxaRlIaxJtq2D1kbKzWZ2x1xTHE16VqnuxKI64KoEYH9ftEfWOq/s1600/saddle2.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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Foaming leather conditioner for the win!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrHu0C9_mzbDAeM0nU5uC8znVYaGoZkeNa0VCQJDnVaZ40vgsaM-1NcOcOvcSqk2BIH7fjT_ernul03_gv813JB5ukOQdU9r_4MxkuI77aJv32BVplwXjtXU66RmRYh-klqWAIuBonaQat/s1600/saddle4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrHu0C9_mzbDAeM0nU5uC8znVYaGoZkeNa0VCQJDnVaZ40vgsaM-1NcOcOvcSqk2BIH7fjT_ernul03_gv813JB5ukOQdU9r_4MxkuI77aJv32BVplwXjtXU66RmRYh-klqWAIuBonaQat/s1600/saddle4.jpg" height="640" width="460" /></a></div>
Scratches and scuff marks all resealed & taken care of.<br />
My saddle horn once had a medallion where you see that patch of hardened glue atop it, but I never saw it. It was long gone before I ever sat behind it, and when I think about it, that uneven patch of yellow amber stuff annoys the heck out of me. I really should find a concho to go over top of it and save myself some unconscious frustration...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRY6qm6pu7KahMTvRTLt-qswxY_swwTnF0tOuIjrRvkJ5KZ5fVVr2SZQekQWlw3QylJX4SiQrUYwJBhu8rIm0ZBeRFY2T0cC1u22wp8dDBcYD_Pv5wkLsM-D-83xWwId6gJENf3PRNuMG/s1600/saddle6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguRY6qm6pu7KahMTvRTLt-qswxY_swwTnF0tOuIjrRvkJ5KZ5fVVr2SZQekQWlw3QylJX4SiQrUYwJBhu8rIm0ZBeRFY2T0cC1u22wp8dDBcYD_Pv5wkLsM-D-83xWwId6gJENf3PRNuMG/s1600/saddle6.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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I ride a Barrel Racer style saddle, designed with a deep seat and small horn made for hangin' on and sticking with your horse in those tight turns. Or if you're me, sticking with your less-than mentally balanced critter in the presence of a rogue plastic bag.</div>
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<br /></div>
all photos are straight out of camera (SOOC) taken by my Canon Rebel T3, 18 - 55mm lens, f4.5 - 8, CPR filterhazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-8982131041986319052014-07-21T11:13:00.001-06:002014-07-25T13:56:23.715-06:00je ne sais pas<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiezn6yLEEeUj4phMLvGXjmNh2mdA0-4W3s3yaBS2IBm_rXsEf21D3siq4goPU2OtS2i9ocjJa_Oi3XH0PYcYaSk_LZpxBrxXJryhU0m0AL1vmuO6qAxijPhxvqxbX1CK0LHtehzxVnDqq6/s1600/9eee5806ef86900a5f096e1ca17caba6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiezn6yLEEeUj4phMLvGXjmNh2mdA0-4W3s3yaBS2IBm_rXsEf21D3siq4goPU2OtS2i9ocjJa_Oi3XH0PYcYaSk_LZpxBrxXJryhU0m0AL1vmuO6qAxijPhxvqxbX1CK0LHtehzxVnDqq6/s1600/9eee5806ef86900a5f096e1ca17caba6.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">via pinterest</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So I want to write (so very badly).... but have not written.</div>
<br />
I suppose I should say hello (or maybe even reintroduce myself? <i>hey it's me, the author of this here blog! </i>You say, <i>Who?</i>) since it's been like THREE MONTHS since this place has had a pulse.<br />
<br />
I am sorry to say that this silence was <i>not</i> because I...<br />
a) ... went on a mission to Africa<br />
b) ... moved across the country<br />
c) ... am expecting a baby (lord no.)<br />
Or anything that seems to be trending at the mo.<br />
<br />
I don't like writing posts when I don't have anything new to say, and I definitely do not like reading them here or anywhere (why yes, I <i>am</i> That Reader who skips extensive descriptions, and/or poor poetry).<br />
The fact is, I told myself I wouldn't write until I had something to write about. The problem with that is that then I fell out of the habit of finding ways to write about the smaller things while I waited for... I don't know, the Second Coming?<br />
And when you stop writing about the little things (even the scribbles no one else will ever see), you stop writing, period.<br />
That's what happened to me, except I've gone even further and neglected my photography, music, even riding (the shame).<br />
And I am miserable.<br />
<br />
I've discovered that not only is this blog an outlet where I can write when I'm having troubles with my stories, it also makes sure I keep up my photography, and go looking for new things. In short, it gives me me-time. And trust me, if you stop making time for yourself to nurture your talents, grow in the Word, or giving yourself moments where your only thoughts are how dang pretty your horse is, <b>you are going to go insane.</b><br />
<br />
I have hopes for this blog, hopes that I can make it more organized and more involved in my novel writing process, and still keep up the small things (berry-picking & canning season is coming!).<br />
<br />
So this is me coming back. This is me making making time in-between the teething child and over-grown gardens; mentally impaired ducks and rogue ponies.<br />
<br />
I am Hazel, hear me roar.<br />
*pathetic rawr*<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-88872646814267491402014-05-15T13:37:00.002-06:002014-05-15T13:37:40.822-06:00today the ink flows smoothly<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasfKUDIjhigoJU_yKKVloOkqo13aUyiDQ4rHEzN0jaUSJV7oO_FndKzq5OB2uawgflhphFp5Z6H4eLPgYXA1LzdX3ORqAluTiIRMh0agu22uRrHl-LdfvAvOJiG5GXyn8jGfgnHI-8n_z/s1600/623ec1bee1cb672b1d8c5a60d0169e22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgasfKUDIjhigoJU_yKKVloOkqo13aUyiDQ4rHEzN0jaUSJV7oO_FndKzq5OB2uawgflhphFp5Z6H4eLPgYXA1LzdX3ORqAluTiIRMh0agu22uRrHl-LdfvAvOJiG5GXyn8jGfgnHI-8n_z/s1600/623ec1bee1cb672b1d8c5a60d0169e22.jpg" height="320" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">via the above wonderful jenny</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
it's noon and i am still in my nightclothes<br />
BUT I HAVE WRITTEN SO MANY GOOD THINGS!<br />
rarely do i feel this good about a scene<br />
ALLOW ME TO DANCE LIKE A HEN WITH HOT FEET<br />
another good visual, no?<br />
I AM ON FIRE<br />
(oh, you don't think it was all that great? clearly you've never seen a chicken run)<br />
<br />
People died, buildings burned...<br />
Despair sits contentedly on her throne.<br />
and there are tears in the snow.<br />
And I have a ridiculous, evil smile on my face because everyone performed beautifully.<br />
<br />
To all my heartbroken characters: Your pain is not and will never be for nothing. Though I cannot promise Happily Ever Afters to all of you, I can promise for most, lives worth living. Lives envied by readers for their vividness and their adventure.<br />
It is important to remember that without pain we become jaded to the light of things that truly matter.hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-24824963189721514912014-04-22T09:48:00.001-06:002014-04-22T09:48:17.920-06:00make way for ducklings<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEBIG42nk7YqXxk4T-In_VN8GihSr4rWJX1pNtMwP293gWJSlCohfYOvjQ-oPcRz7ECbDTvk0VXY5-0KdfJ9_NVd18co4ZRdYkuua3tlu2lkNpF5EMRabnejqkiZ1-6I9kPu18rF7izkRy/s1600/IMG_1427+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEBIG42nk7YqXxk4T-In_VN8GihSr4rWJX1pNtMwP293gWJSlCohfYOvjQ-oPcRz7ECbDTvk0VXY5-0KdfJ9_NVd18co4ZRdYkuua3tlu2lkNpF5EMRabnejqkiZ1-6I9kPu18rF7izkRy/s1600/IMG_1427+copy.jpg" height="448" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pongo, Biscuit, & Beaker</div>
As a family, we rarely, if ever, impulse-buy. We budget and save, and plan for months when it comes to large-ish purchases. BUt, it appears that planning & so forth go out the window when ducks go on sale at the feed store.<br />
Boom - we have ducks. Aren't they darling?? and every time they squeak their little tails wiggle :}<br />
The whole thing wasn't entirely unthought out, though. We have an order of chicks coming in <i>this</i> week to replace the mean old birds I can't wait to see go. (You have to replace layers about every two years. We get chicks every year so we're never without eggs). We'll put the chicks and the ducklings in the same brooder box and they can grow up together and be pals & whatnot.<br />
In the meantime, it's awfully fun to let them run round the house when "responsible" people have left for the day ;}hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-6785350746776356242014-03-16T19:36:00.000-06:002014-03-16T19:37:30.313-06:00in-between<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwv_PF0JdgUhIIZvbZ_nUqsBcPld7YVRMuc0mQE_njlC71t9XYxRYPe0r5XdKLiV7bkRtWtmPghUAVXoIjmqbsMXuiOOx6FxS8zKDlmVnyno93B_QH8oUs6SL_942J2mJdKmrHble6YXiV/s1600/9895a2fbcbc112a9dbbae05ea85d0a3a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwv_PF0JdgUhIIZvbZ_nUqsBcPld7YVRMuc0mQE_njlC71t9XYxRYPe0r5XdKLiV7bkRtWtmPghUAVXoIjmqbsMXuiOOx6FxS8zKDlmVnyno93B_QH8oUs6SL_942J2mJdKmrHble6YXiV/s1600/9895a2fbcbc112a9dbbae05ea85d0a3a.jpg" height="400" width="265" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
winter fades</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
spring is late</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
and the grass is still brown,</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
d e a d.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
i am nineteen</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
not a teen</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
not a woman</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
yet the roles i am given to play</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
are heavy, weighted with maturity</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
that i do not see carried by others like me (not like me)</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
they carry textbooks, schedules, futures</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
i follow tasks set down before time, holding impossible dreams</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
monotony, sacrifice, slow reward</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
a time to wait</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
winter fades</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
spring is late</div>
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and i am in-between. </div>
hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-9774564366848081542014-02-20T14:51:00.003-07:002014-02-20T14:53:46.024-07:00melancholia <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSJAK8VQ8dhCQWDRaAjcZHDPTAKKnkiuBhMjC8r1hg8SnLfkORlF5WLJFfoBzuin0AKU5FypsZCI-iFI88ebAjHNI2SVWDAodqHWAmigiOcoVtDrz1BDSeqdHhGrsp6NSR4WNNfySKOiZ/s1600/tumblr_mqt9rlcuU91sd2qdpo1_400.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSJAK8VQ8dhCQWDRaAjcZHDPTAKKnkiuBhMjC8r1hg8SnLfkORlF5WLJFfoBzuin0AKU5FypsZCI-iFI88ebAjHNI2SVWDAodqHWAmigiOcoVtDrz1BDSeqdHhGrsp6NSR4WNNfySKOiZ/s1600/tumblr_mqt9rlcuU91sd2qdpo1_400.gif" /></a></div>
When I say that I love what is melancholy, people usually look at me strange. Perhaps I'm not using the word in it's proper or more common context (sadness, depression), but to me, melancholy is so much more.<br />
<br />
It's a song tinged with sorrow<br />
a sparrow in the cold, grey snow<br />
a gentle rain that remembers when the world was young,<br />
before the apple and the snake.<br />
<br />
The thunder in a horse's feet<br />
a flower in the twilight<br />
the sense of regret in a colorless photograph, the faces without names<br />
<br />
Is it our own mortality that can make these things so tragically beautiful, or is it a glimpse of longing for a world we were made for but have never known?<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">inspired by Hannah's post, <a href="http://hannie96.blogspot.com/2014/02/beautiful-things-make-me-sad.html" target="_blank">here</a></span></i></div>
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hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-57463497562332647032014-02-05T16:41:00.001-07:002014-02-05T16:41:37.808-07:00as requested...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0fbauVkiVDk3YfwB0kRNWpYAmBrqeCF7ZBSkC3PcMqc6C7F1PI5ON3-5Fz-LTBPXd29bbUEHiscRLUiormMG47R6dkG_fBWBeLyr4J75qicyNh8PSqU7UawWxHUJd443ztIGDvtRANVL/s1600/2-5-14cookies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh0fbauVkiVDk3YfwB0kRNWpYAmBrqeCF7ZBSkC3PcMqc6C7F1PI5ON3-5Fz-LTBPXd29bbUEHiscRLUiormMG47R6dkG_fBWBeLyr4J75qicyNh8PSqU7UawWxHUJd443ztIGDvtRANVL/s1600/2-5-14cookies.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0FRsd_JJ3iO5DtGr1QF-v1Ojrj5TM2oCANboyidN2ry3tSwIVpxVgLfg9gPKB-egvhy1jQ0X6fiOz_3e5vrByZzGwrU6KJWDcMGPR2TeGDFTGoxfqtvOiJ4203qwfL29y3UKtxEz-pIW/s1600/2-5-14vingette.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc0FRsd_JJ3iO5DtGr1QF-v1Ojrj5TM2oCANboyidN2ry3tSwIVpxVgLfg9gPKB-egvhy1jQ0X6fiOz_3e5vrByZzGwrU6KJWDcMGPR2TeGDFTGoxfqtvOiJ4203qwfL29y3UKtxEz-pIW/s1600/2-5-14vingette.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>this needed to go somewhere...</i></td></tr>
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(See?? No promises = two posts in as many days! Crazy stuff...)</div>
Here are your alarmingly pink and girlish cookies! And for those of you who ordered snow, I feel I must inform you that it comes with -10*<i>f</i> temps and a solid horse water tank. It's a package deal, no way 'round it. But don't let that dissuade you - I would happily trade for some Florida sun or even Irish rain!hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-25322198514136246142014-02-03T15:18:00.002-07:002014-02-03T15:18:35.308-07:00call me a blackbird<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBFSZwlgUEWiVwnYhiFEQvANe1g8ygBqWANwGSe5GjKmFJKAcLGtuOtxVRVvIxhv55hvmft5yqms9ogZpZWG-rmINP-giCnNWUp90BlBYGDip225cWuaHwp4dukXK2OR-vILW_k0YOqKsJ/s1600/1-3-14appletwig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBFSZwlgUEWiVwnYhiFEQvANe1g8ygBqWANwGSe5GjKmFJKAcLGtuOtxVRVvIxhv55hvmft5yqms9ogZpZWG-rmINP-giCnNWUp90BlBYGDip225cWuaHwp4dukXK2OR-vILW_k0YOqKsJ/s1600/1-3-14appletwig.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
<i>"blackbird can't keep 'is word!" - raggedy yorkshire child</i><br />
<br />
Why don't we just go ahead and agree that every time I say I'll have more time to write/ will write up some posts in advance, that I am suffering from one of those moments of optimistic illusion. I deeply regret not having a Christmas or New Years post, because I had already take many fabulous (in my mind) and artsy photos to correlate with words of seasonal hope and comfort. All for naught, it would seem.<br />
Well, maybe next Christmas post I can cheat and sneak in a few from last year and <i>no one will be the wiser</i>... Yes, good plan.<br />
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To the present!<br />
Because it's <i>nearly</i> the 14th (you may have to squint your eyes at the calendar) and it's been over a month since any decent festivities have gone down, this morning I made heart-shaped sugar cookies that I have every intention of frosting with garishly pink icing and Red Hot candies. I need this kind of joy in my life.<br />
<b><a href="http://peppermintplum.blogspot.com/2011/03/thick-soft-sugar-cookies.html" target="_blank">This</a></b> is by far and away the best sugar cookie recipe I've ever found. It's easy-peasy and the dough rolls out so smoothly you'll feel like you know what your doing in a kitchen for once. Once baked the cookies themselves are fluffy and soft like angel cheeks, and they <i>stay</i> soft.<br />
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We've just gotten over the January thaw and are again plunged into the spiteful claws of winter. Boo.<br />
It happens every year: we get a week or two of temperatures above freezing and the first seed catalog arrives. You find it sitting in the mailbox like it's no big deal. Like your mind totally doesn't start pulling out concept files on building a new garden fence, new chicken house, what all to plant where this year, and maybe we should start looking at tillers, remember what it's like not to wear shoes? I bet we can start the ponies on jumps this Spring, and GOATS?? calculate cost of purchasing, housing, and keeping two dwarf goats...<br />
And just when you're about ready to break out the hammers and garden trowels BOOM -5* and snowing. Instant depression. You really start questioning why you live where you live. And you start checking flights to the equator (more depression).<br />
That's what seed catalogs do to me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_CjY4Pn0dhhGmyUJZL-2Y6yFEaeXHTYcZ4Mxf6rO1szFWY34AjP0vHmqy7P5LooGgv88G1luLExKl7mi6uGdjERqHpn7qg93i8RbrWUlQSHAxxa2R4MOWCQoH6TFrwUDw_1OnpzK-U8R/s1600/1-3-14severedtree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_CjY4Pn0dhhGmyUJZL-2Y6yFEaeXHTYcZ4Mxf6rO1szFWY34AjP0vHmqy7P5LooGgv88G1luLExKl7mi6uGdjERqHpn7qg93i8RbrWUlQSHAxxa2R4MOWCQoH6TFrwUDw_1OnpzK-U8R/s1600/1-3-14severedtree.jpg" height="640" width="426" /></a></div>
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I realize that this photography is rather uninspired, but I tell ya. When your sick to death of that white stuff, making it look interesting and fresh is difficult, to say the least.<br />
I don't want to say I'll write again soon for fear that you won't hear from me till July, but I really hope I've found a time I can carve out for blogging each week. In the mean time, you can find me occasionally on <b><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/hazelmarie23/" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></b>!<br />
Hold on to those Spring dreams, kids.<br />
~hazel mariehazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-33430154119163214662013-12-14T13:34:00.000-07:002013-12-14T13:51:11.699-07:00snowponies | i change my name<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>i'd like to thank you all once again for your prayers and kind words you left on my last post about Charlie. it seems i've been asking for prayers quite a lot lately, but you always come through.</i></div>
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<i> thank you. </i></div>
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it wasn't long after we lost Charlie that we realized we couldn't live with the paralyzing stillness that invaded our house or the left behind toys. we contacted the breeder and learned that by some miracle she had a litter ready to go from Charlie's own parents! So meet his younger brother Tuppence. :)</div>
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Is it pathetic that I am over the moon about having a sick day? <i>at last! finally i'm ill enough to stay in bed and work on that mountain of photos and blog posts!</i> Yup, pathetic.<br />
Despite the cold snap we suffered last week (-30* was the lowest temp recorded by our brave little thermometer) that kept us indoors and close to the fire (I <i>am </i>Lord of the Flame), I have remained up to the nostrils in busyness of one kind or another. I still nanny my nephew (hence forward known as 'Bug') full time, and musically preform at various functions & social gatherings with my friend <a href="http://songbirdbrown.wordpress.com/about/" target="_blank">Songbird</a>.<br />
Then there has been the enormous task of decorating the house for Christmas, but there will be a post about that in future. I hope.<br />
Turning to blog/writing related things, I've been meaning to - after four years - perhaps... change my Blogger name? I chose 'Gwyn' when I first started because that was Cilla's name all that long time ago, and I had planned on using this blog to write<i> TLOS</i>. That obviously didn't pan out.<br />
And now that I have a proper <i>nom de plume</i> for my novels, I see little point in keeping the name Gwyn when it is no longer attached to anything of importance. So from now on, if it's not terribly confusing, call me Hazel?<br />
My pseudonym <i>Hazel Marie</i> has ties to two very important women in my life who have influenced me a great deal and whom I love so very much. It just feels right to honor them, even if in such a small way.<br />
<br />
I hope to write up a few more posts before this sickness passes, so that there won't be such a gaping holes between hearing from me. I also plan on introducing more writerly-related posts and perhaps even challenges in future!<br />
<i>xoxo <span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Hazel Marie</span></i><br />
<br />hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-53361683040507323652013-10-30T18:23:00.000-06:002013-10-30T18:23:12.680-06:00it hurt because it matteredI do not know if there is anyone left to read my words, but I am filled with an unexplainable need to be heard. Even if my voice is small and my words only have meaning to me.<br />
<br />
You have not heard from me at all in a very long time. And that is because I had no words. No things I could say, no insight in a time that for me and many close to me was black as pitch. I did not need to speak then, but to grieve. But now I am tired of tears and silence.<br />
I cannot give a full report on all that has left me paralyzed -- I still don't have the words and neither is it something to foist upon the ears of passing strangers.<br />
But I can tell you the last straw in a string of sharp, heartbreaking events that broke this camel's back.<br />
My Charlie is dead.<br />
Just like that.<br />
Momma's cancer therapy dog, he was. The puppy that brought smiles even to the bleakest of days is somehow gone.<br />
All because one boarder at my neighbor's barn was late for work and sped on our gravel road.<br />
I still don't get it.<br />
<br />
Do you ever feel like Job?<br />
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Two months and two-thousand miles removed from all that, I have, for the first time since, picked up my novel and pen. Only to find I am extremely out of practice. Oh, for a magic key that will let me back into what I once believed was my own world! Or better yet a magic pen that will write my story for me. That is every writers' dream, right? My favorite quote on the subject remains, "<i>I don't like to write, I like to have written.</i>" I know there are those who enjoy the actual process, hacking out the details and so on, but I confess I am not one of them.<br />
I quit writing, drawing, music, and even taking pictures for the month of September. I had no desire for any of it. But now that Black September is over, I want to come back to my art-loves only to find one of them — my favorite, writing — a stranger.<br />
I need a new start so I was sent to visit my sister, where I am currently writing from. But even here, in perhaps the most inspiring city in the States, there is no magic cure.<br />
<br />
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<i> 'It's hard to wait around for something you know might never happen;</i></div>
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<i> but it's even harder to give up when you know it's everything you want.'</i></div>
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So I'm going to roll up my sleeves and try again. Because that's all I can do.<br />
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<br />hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-51307812878106308672013-08-18T08:24:00.000-06:002013-08-18T08:24:24.132-06:00what to do with the harvest (when you're semi-incompetent)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This year has been amazing for produce. Like cucumbers/peppers/beans/tomatoes-coming-out-the-ears kind of amazing. For once my gardens, the hay, and all the wild fruits & flowers have all done well in the same year.</div>
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But the questions arises, usually after an overly-enthusiastic raid on the kitchen boxes, <i>what the devil to <b>do</b> with all the produce? </i>And until this year, I have had no answer. Which looks a lot like growing things just to pick the fruits later and watch it rot so you can have a hay-day catapulting squishy veg and giant squash over the cliff. Not exactly ideal if your goal is to learn the basics of self-sufficiency.</div>
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My family gamely endeavours to eat the harvests fresh, but inevitably, when you're hauling in a basket of bounty every other day, they're going to dig their heels in and cry 'uncle!' over a pea pod. We're not really a family of ruffage-eaters, anyway. </div>
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So this year I'm attempting to be more eating-the-garden savvy. And this it what I've done so far....</div>
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Peas! I planted one pack of new and two packs of old peas this spring because I thought the majority of the old ones would not grow. I was wrong. oh so wrong. So how am I coping with pea-overload? *<span style="font-size: large;">wat.</span></div>
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(Let's try that again...)</div>
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So what am I to do with results of my miscalculation? Freeze them! The freezer is a marvelous and mysterious thing, allowing us to store our wonderful bounty for months on end and sparing us from the dismal frozen foods section at the grocery store, where culinary aspirations go to die.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Preparing Peas for Freezing</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">- de-pod all peas and rinse.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">- bring saucepan of water to a rolling boil</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">- pour in peas & blanch for 90 seconds to kill bacteria</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">- drain and rinse with cold water</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> allow to air dry before freezing to prevent frost.</span></div>
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Next the peppers & jalapeños. This time of year I never know why we bought so many pepper plants in the spring. Probably with some vague and hopeful thought of homemade salsa, but I think we must reexamine this annual impulse and perhaps expel it. I have yet to find a salsa recipe that doesn't taste sweet. I hate sweet salsa.</div>
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I brought in a large haul of peppers and jalapeños and was determined to dispatch them immediately while they were still crisp.</div>
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It took but a moment to think of the family favorite recipe for Cheddar Pepper Cream Cheese. With the garden peppers it was A LOT hotter than usual, and the texture was more chunky, but on the whole it went down very well on a freshly toasted bagel. I think I had it for lunch for three consecutive days (then the bagels ran out). </div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Cheddar Pepper Cream Cheese</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">2 bricks of cream cheese</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">1 c. shredded cheddar cheese</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">about 6 medium sized jalapeños </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">- allow cream cheese to soften at room temperature; dice jalapeños.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">- in medium bowl, blend all ingredients together with an electric mixer</span>. </div>
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<i>Voila, mon ami! Bon, non? Oui!</i></div>
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(aaand that is nearly the extent of my French)</div>
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Forget 'a hill of beans' - I have a mountain. Nothing for it but to give them the same treatment as the peas! Except this time they must boil for a good 3 - 5 minutes, depending on the size of your batch, because beans are bigger than peas and have many more hidey-holes for bacteria & such.</div>
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My cucumber vines have gone mad. They're acting more like zucchini with the amount of bats they're churning out. </div>
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I was brave and told Momma I'd like to attempt making pickles. A brave thing indeed for the last batch we made many, many years ago yielded such badly tasting results that the memory was still burned into our consciouses even as I begged for a way to get rid of the million cucumbers in the sink.</div>
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She said yes and even helped me with the scary pressure cooker/canner (which ended up burning my wrist like you wouldn't believe). But I chickened out of trying a recipe for homemade brine and bought a Dill Pickles for Idiots packet at the store.</div>
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In the end, I think I made a good call going store-bought. For though fairly strong and assertively dill in taste, they are quite edible. I wish I had bought several more packets, because below is one batch, and I have enough cucumbers for about eight!</div>
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The end of July through mid-August is chokecherry season. These bush/tree/things grow wild in patches all over our farm. When I was little chokecherry picking felt akin to being sent out in the desert with a bucket & spade to build a sandcastle. It's hot and there's just <i>so</i> much and you've been abandoned in the wilderness.<br />
Nowadays I kinda like going berry picking. It's a chance to be outdoors in the morning (and baby nephew get's to spend some quality time with Grammy back at the house).</div>
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Speaking of Grammy/my Momma, she makes the best chokecherry jellies & syrup in the county, no lie.</div>
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Nothing quite says toast-for-breakfast like this stuff.</div>
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So that's the stats so far in my preserving & gardening experience. I must say <i>adieu!</i> now, 'cause I've got a horse who's waiting for me at the hitching post. Life is still good.</div>
hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2350033007843445950.post-87438930556140360932013-08-11T12:09:00.002-06:002013-08-12T16:44:14.074-06:00a farmer's life for me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I love country life, and all it has to offer. I love feeling accomplished at the end of a long day of working outdoors. Whether gardening, or mowing; riding skittish mares or teaching ornery ponies new tricks - living with the land is the life I will always want. This is where I belong.</div>
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While our farm isn't as 'working' a farm as perhaps I would like (our only crop is hay & we never sell any of the critters we say we will :), there is always plenty work to be done to keep things running smoothly.</div>
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And climbing on top the haystack is the best for watching sunsets (or brooding, as Little Brother was in this photo). Yes, it's a grand view up there, unless an angry yellowjacket lands on your leg - then it's every man for himself.</div>
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I should let it be known that bees and wasps are my phobias. I nearly jumped off, but reason still had some control (however impaired) and I ended up sliding down the side to the ground. Not a good day to wear shorts.</div>
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A fox got most of our chickens last month, and now we only have five laying hens. I saved two from the mouth of the mangy beast, running through the pasture barefoot in my Sunday dress. I think this is one of the survivors ^.</div>
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These are our little pullets that we got back in May, growing nicely. We hope they'll start laying as soon as September, and maybe then we can get back in the egg business. </div>
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I think this is the first photo I've posted of this girl since she lost her eye last Christmas. She's getting on well without it, and you can hardly tell, though she sometimes runs into things on her left side (me, for instance). She's a very brave and steadfast little pony and will be an wonderful kid pony for Nephew, when he can reach the stirrups.</div>
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Double Stuff on the other hand, still needs some work. He's a silly, slightly devious little man, emphasis on "little". He's had an on-again-off-again education under the saddle, the primary reason being that we (three of us now) out grow him so fast. Though I can't hardly make contact anymore when it comes to kicking, I still ride him occasionally, and LB has been working on him.</div>
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Stuffy is a free-spirit, whose intelligence is almost scary, and who believes with every fiber of his being that he is the Stallion of the Cimarron. </div>
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I love hanging out with these guys. All the other horses are in the big pasture, more interested in seeing how much weight they can put on between rides than talking to me. But the ponies are a captive audience, kept in a pen so that we can control their diet. They have a tendency to become massively obese. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZd9MzjHKJqqXS9Rd_MtfpmVtKVnqqRG9Fr55J0gr8cAi4W43bttlEDmXapgcI4e9ByLdkaVWsKWEFN2wYaT2XhYKfxmXypJIYezMzN1WPEdVd-otJdn6ALzKwMwxzu4hDOm0AzoIJG6Aj/s1600/7-28-13ham&charlie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZd9MzjHKJqqXS9Rd_MtfpmVtKVnqqRG9Fr55J0gr8cAi4W43bttlEDmXapgcI4e9ByLdkaVWsKWEFN2wYaT2XhYKfxmXypJIYezMzN1WPEdVd-otJdn6ALzKwMwxzu4hDOm0AzoIJG6Aj/s640/7-28-13ham&charlie.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I have no idea where I'll be this time next year. I'm 18, half graduated, nannying full time, attempting to run the farm, and trying to keep projects important to me - like my horses and my stories - afloat.</div>
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My family is at a crossroad, and I don't know what things will be like after. But God, I pray & I plead, let us always have the farm.</div>
hazel mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04493535990076038295noreply@blogger.com1