Transplanted in Texas

This picture was taken in June or July of 2016. This picture brings on so many thoughts and feelings, but none do this moment justice. You see, it was taken in the days or weeks following my accident with Sneaky. Yance was a secret except to us and our parents, and I was recovering from a concussion. And my sweetheart, my honey, my love, was there through it all. And I love him. We had been married for about three months when this was taken, and tomorrow we will have been married exactly seventeen months: one year and five months. And it has only gotten better. My communication skills, especially with him, are awful. But still he is relentless in his love for me. I need him, and he needs me. With God's help, we will stay strong over the years. Just a few nights ago as we were dozing off to sleep, I murmured to my man, "I think I'll enjoy growing old with you." Or something to that effect. I don't remember exactly. But I want there to be picture

This picture was taken on August 16. On the day the boy turned twenty-three weeks old, he sat up by himself for the first time. It is the latest in many achievements he's been passing lately. Yance has been getting on hands and knees and attempting to crawl. He gargles/gurgles now, and can be found anywhere in the living room during the day. The boy can do a complete roll over, but his primary method of travel is still forward , aka scooting/half-crawling. He also laughs. And experiments with his voice. My baby boy makes funny faces and is getting pretty proficient at walking when he's holding on to somebody's fingers. He can't stand or walk on his own, yet. But balance will come soon enough. As it is, he'll be flying around the house as soon as he gets his coordination together to crawl properly. Ack! Little Yance barely fits into 3-6 size onesies and can wear 6-9 size quite comfortably. He's in size 3 diapers now, though I have no idea how long tha

This picture was taken on April 20. Yance was six weeks old. It is one of only two pictures I could find of his great-great-grandfather holding him. Pop died on the morning of August 4. He was buried on August 6. At the age of ninety, he had severe dementia and was moved to a retirement home shortly after this picture was taken. Suffering a stroke on July 28, he lived one more week before passing. I barely knew him. He was my husband's great-grandfather through his father's mother. Yance was the first of two great-great-grandsons that were born before he passed. I first met Pop on Labor Day 2015, and after that saw him every now and then, mostly on holidays. He had fought in World War II in the Navy, was a mechanic, a volunteer firefighter, and an all-around good man. And he had been married for a total of seventy-one years and six months. Exactly. Although I knew Pop very little, and his mind was already pretty far gone when I did get to meet him,

I have decided to do a series of posts where I put a picture on here and then describe the feelings, thoughts, and events behind it. I have no idea how long this series will last, so at the end of each post I will do a recap of the previous week and also tell of plans of the future. And post something from Amazon for you to purchase if you want. November 5, 2016. That is when this photo was taken. It was the morning of Breeders' Cup Saturday, and I thought it fitting to play with horses on a Breeders' Cup day. The day had begun with writing, working on the first draft of my A.P. Indy book. I had haltered Sneaky and Sue J, as they were in the arena together at the time, and played a little with each of them. Cookie followed me around, and when I was done I removed the gear from the horses and took pictures of them. Sneaky was curious about the cat, and the kitten was a bit scared and decided to climb up to his "safe space" (Cookie is a wimp). His safe