Bouffant Blonde

Little Guy loves to help. He trots happily beside his Granddaddy when they head to the garden or check fences. He sniffs weeds and brush for critters. He exercises baby calves. He is a very busy boy. The other day was no exception. Granddaddy planted watermelons on the bank by the house. Mama loves watermelons. Little Guy thinks they taste yucky. He much prefers cookies. The only problem with the watermelons is that they are really, really small. Mama cut five watermelons at one time. She and Gran and Granddaddy ate and ate. They didn't share with Little Guy, Sunshine and Miss Lady Bug because they don't like watermelon. Afterwards, Mama scooped the leftover watermelon from the rind and placed it into the refrigerator so they could eat it another day. She put the small watermelon rinds into a bucket and headed out to give them to the cows. The cows love watermelon almost as much as Mama. Little Guy rushed to help. He scooted through the gate and pranced happily toward the cows ...

Something is eating the cucumbers. I don't know what. I go out to gather them and something has taken little bites out of several of them. Every day. Could it be a rabbit? Maybe? I figured with three dogs, surely they could determine what's going on. I held up one of the ruined cucumbers and asked Little Guy who was eating it. He dutifully sniffed the bitten area. He shook his head. "Cucumbers are not good," he told me. "Whoever is eating those things is not really smart." He wrinkled his little nose. "And I don't care what Gran says," he added before walking away. Well, I figured, that was strike one. Surely his older, wiser sisters would have the answer. I called Sunshine over. She's a lab. Labs love to hunt. Surely she would know who's eating the cucumbers. She took a sniff and shook her head. "Probably a rabbit," she said. "I can't be sure. Those cucumbers are really foul smelling and that masks the smell of any c...

Little Guy loves to go to the garden with his grandaddy. He loves to go just about anywhere with his grandaddy. It's lots of fun. He can hunt and chase baby calves and slosh through the edge of the pond. Just guy stuff. But Little Guy is really, really afraid of the electric fence. The fence is supposed to keep the cows and calves from the vegetables in the garden. It also keeps Little Guy in the garden. He was really afraid when Grandaddy put a gate up at the garden entrace. What if it had an invisible electric fence? He couldn't be sure. He was so excited to go into the garden that he didn't think about that. But when it was time to leave, he was scared. Gran tried to coax him out. He just shook his little head. Grandaddy called and called. Little Guy frowned and backed up. Then Mama came out. She walked through the gate, bent down and hugged him close to her. "It's okay, Little Guy," she said. "We'll walk through the gate together. There's no e...

My life, it seems, is all about head counts. One. Two. Three. Uh...three. Where is number three? Missing in action. I rushed out the door heading to church this morning. I am always running late. Or so it seems. Sunshine came immediately when called. Miss Lady Bug stumbled out from her napping spot in the laundry room. She gave me one of those indignant looks that says "What is your problem!?" My problem involved the prime sleeping spot in front of the garage fan. It was vacant. No Little Guy. That was not a good sign. See, I haven't had this problem lately. That's the benefit of triple-digit heat. The dogs don't wander off. They stay parked in front of fans or in the house. Cooler temperatures make them feel better about exploring. Without human restrictions and parental guidance. I asked Sunshine where her brother was. She gave me one of those looks that let me know she was not his keeper. Not today anyway. I had to bite my tongue to keep from reminding her t...

Little Guy loves to fish. He never really understood fishing until my oldest nephew visited when Little Guy was just a puppy. He'd obviously lived in the city before he came to us. He knew we had a pond. He loved to romp along the sides, splashing in the water. But he never understood that there are fish in the pond. Wow! He watched my nephew gather a reel and rod and other supplies. Then Little Guy happily followed him around to the dam. Both his sisters went along so it was a fun adventure. He sat right next to my nephew as he threw the line in. Then, oh my gosh, a fish came out! That was exciting! Little Guy danced all around and tried to get close to the fish. My nephew removed said fish from the hook and threw the fish back into the pond. Wait a minute, Little Guy said. Don't we get to play with the fish? I want to take the fish back to the house and show my mom. So Little Guy did what any puppy would do under those circumstances. He went into the water after the fish. He...

I always knew it would happen one day. I hoped it wouldn't. Truly I did. But with three curious dogs and many, many wild animals it was like a train wreck waiting to happen. Little Guy encountered a skunk. Not that we saw said encounter. The smell, however, gave it all away. Little Guy always tries to be helpful. While I worked in the garden late yesterday, he hunted. He loves to hunt. He rarely catches anything. He leaves that to his big sister Sunshine. But he does so love to smell his way through the beans and corn, searching for anything at all. I paid no attention when he exited the garden and headed toward the barn area. He does that everyday. I didn't even notice that he sort of lagged behind when we headed toward the house. But, oh my. When I closed the garage door and he plopped in front of the fan, the air got a little smelly. At first I wasn't sure which dog was the culprit. The look on Sunshine's face was priceless. So pitiful. I wondered if she were the one...

It seems that everyone wants to garden these days. A little packet of seeds and some dirt. It's certainly cheaper than buying fresh produce at the grocery story or the farmer's market. Even the White House has a vegetable garden. It all looks so very easy. The key word here is "looks." Farming -- even the small garden variety -- is hard, hot work. First, you've got to decide what to plant. It's easy to say "peas" or "snap beans." Do you know how many different kinds of snap beans there are? I figured it would be easy to choose the type to plant. The round ones, not the flat ones. That only brought more choices. It's a good thing my father knows the name of what he plants every year. I think I need to write it down. I'll never remember on my own. Fortunately, he has a tractor and planters. It makes it go so much faster. Of course, we have a large garden. Some things though still have to be planted by hand. Tomatoes do better if they...

Every person who is tired of the rain please raise your hand. Yes, that's most of us. I don't know what's with that person over in the corner calling for more but get the straight-jacket out now. Bouffant Blonde lives in an area that got eight plus inches of rain Friday night and Saturday. And we were blessed it wasn't worse. People in neighboring towns are scraping muddy muck from their kitchens and bracing for more rain arriving tomorrow. And that isn't even mentioning the poor folks in Fargo. I've been in a flood. I don't want to go there again. Ever. Originally we welcomed the rain. We were at a water deficit according to Rich Thomas and his storm team. It's getting into the planting and growing season. Water is a good thing. Well, any seeds already planted may no longer be in the field they were intended to be in. Our little garden patch -- which contains no seed until Good Friday per my father's rule -- is difficult to even walk through. One s...

Table and chair sets like this one may soon be history. The reason? A law that goes far beyond protecting children from lead and goes into the realm of ridiculous. Let me make one thing clear -- I totally support testing children's items for lead. We all know the impact of lead on children. It was scary and infuriating last year to realize that kids we love were playing with toys that had lead on them. Plus, the trauma of explaining to a two-year-old that Thomas had to go to the hospital. So this isn't about keeping lead away from children. Any reasonable person supports that. This is about protecting artists from being shut down. The law requires all items -- including hand-made items -- to be tested for lead. Since artists items are all hand-made that means each individual item would need testing. Some have estimated the cost at $150 and up per item. Who can afford that? And what customer will absorb that cost? Most artists are like me. I purchase my wood at local building s...

Today dawned just like any other day. Fog blanketed the area. It's haze lingers. Somehow it is appropriate. The brilliant sun of yesterday is gone and only questions and sorrow linger. Yet we are reminded that life does go on, whether we welcome it or not. We can't turn back the clock. We can't fix what has happened. The bodies remain. The shattered lives linger. Long after the news reporters have moved on to another story, the peace and calm will allude us. Because now we know for sure that horrible things can happen anywhere, at anytime, to anyone. No more heads in the cloud denial. Not for us. Not for our children. Not for our sleepy communities. When the tornado killed nine people just over two years ago, that was horrible and unimaginable. But it was an act of nature. A freak event that destroyed a school that had withstood countless tornadoes and students. But the shooting rampage was a deliberate attack. Planned carnage. How does the mind of a seemingly normal perso...

Life can change in an instant. Our minds know that. Our hearts, however, want to believe that all is right with our world. That bad things happen to other people, in other families, in other towns. That diseases either don't happen or are always cured. That traffic accidents are minor and life goes on after a minor headache or two. Then a neighbor swerves frantically into the driveway with news. A gunman is heading down the highway, shooting everyone. Surely, not. This is rural Alabama where folks shoot deer not people. Law enforcement vehicles speed down the road with lights flashing. First one and then another. Sirens echo in the distance. An ambulance follows a different path, yet just as fast with its lights flashing and sirens sounding. It is not a dream. It isn't happening in a big city. It's real and it's right here. Early reports vary, depending on your preferred news outlet. Nine people are believed dead. Two are children. We don't know how many are hurt. ...

Recently a new commercial shows a dad preparing for a big night out. He's getting spruced up, complete with tie. His big date? With his little girl to play tea party. It's one of those commercials urging men to take time to be a dad but the same message could go to mothers. Children are only small once and the years go by so very fast. I know the message isn't new. Kids care about the time we spend with them. My young nephew doesn't run to me and ask, "What did you bring me." He runs to me and asks, "Will you play with me?" That's what he'll remember. Playing football with his clutsy aunt. Or learning to hit a ball with his Dad. Or reading his "Jesus Book" at night with his Mom. Those are the things that matter. This table and chair set was such a joy to design and paint. It was a special gift for three little girls from their aunt and uncle. I hope they enjoy playing tea party as much as I did when I was a little girl.

Those who have ever experienced a bad hair day, please raise your hands. Okay, just about everyone has had one of those days. Now, every one who has ever been responsible for their own bad hair day, please raise your hand. I'm glad to know I'm not alone. Last year I got really frustrated with my hair. I needed to get it trimmed. Money was an issue. Money is always an issue for an artist. (At least those I know.) So at four in the morning I decided to trim off the ends. Did I mention that I'm not a morning person? I shouldn't have even been up at that hour. Did I also mention that I am notoriously bad with hair? I'm the one whose hair is always, but always, doing what it shouldn't. So are any of us surprised to learn that my hair ended up a bit uneven? I have a wonderful friend who is a beautician. Actually, she's more of a hair artist. She works at one of those chic salons, follows all the latest trends and always looks like she stepped off the page of a fa...

My next show is scheduled Sept. 13, 2008, on the campus of Troy University in Troy, Alabama. It's a fundraiser put on by the alumni association. The arts and crafts event will be at the Troy University Alumni House at the corner of George Wallace Drive and Highland Ave. This is across the street from the football stadium. The show hours are from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. I will have many new items available for sale, including affordable Christmas gifts. I'll also be taking furniture orders for Christmas delivery. These include children's furniture and novelty cabinets. Hope to see you there!