Gettin' By the Best I Can
To me, a creek symbolizes a powerful force that can be beautiful and life-giving but can also cleanse the landscape in a flood. This water is precious to the life of the woodland flora and fauna, the flowers and the fawns. The rippling sound warms my weary heart. The water can dry up, leaving the woodland parched and sad. Then it returns in glory. What better way to commemorate the Resurrection?
Want to see one of the top reasons I want to live way out in the woods in a log cabin? This is what I saw, heard and loved when I walked out the front door this morning:
I have a fervent hope that Puxatawney (sp?) Phil was wrong this year! A spiffily dressed gentleman holding the poor creature high somehow inferred 6 more weeks of winter. But I have peach trees and plums blooming! No hard freezes, please…pretty please?
The first harbinger of Spring has been in bloom all week everywhere I look around the cabin, and how beautiful they are. There are several spots were the flowers cover square yards of ground. I rather like this brightening of the drab woodland, myself. The Wild Branch is still up – rain, rain, rain. Better than snow, snow, snow like some of you poor souls are getting.
This is a PUZZLE story, and is a bit more understandable if you read it out loud…
That sighed of the river that forms hour boarder now bruise ail four all to sea! Wee tact a notice on hour billboard write away, “Know Ail, Bier oar Other Alcohol on Hour Sighed!”
Soon they dug into they’re coughers and sent cruise of guise to build a saloon on the river! Wood ewe believe the shear vise displayed? Weather they can reed hour sine oar knot, weir bread better than them and wheel have nun of it!
This mourning, the devils lured too, then for, then ate and then moor of hour citizens to trudge waste deep across the shallow blew boarder. Many were already at the bar with 
boos! How could they chews this? I told them awl know!
Then I saw a mail of rank, maybe a kernel, they’re at the bar with my Ant Mimi. He past her a bottle and pointed at me. She urged a waisted fellow to grab an or and roe her back here.
“Deer, just try this Fare Bare Bitter, yule like it!”
Her words wade heavy on my sole, Ant Mimi the Matriarch. Aye had two take a sip. Won moor. Hmmm, won moor.
Weave decided knot to weight to build a bridge too hour fare and sonny friends on the far sighed.
How Would You Do It? 