Within an Inch of Her Life:Part 2

     Last week I described to you how wonderful Wednesday ended for me, let's go right into Thursday.

     Another day of mowing grass and chomping up weeds.  Two sections of pasture were left before I could move to the West side of the acreage.  

     Yellow rays of sunshine were cascading down upon our farm this morning.  My first and immediate task was to locate the calves born the day before.  Summoning my amateur calf bawl, Cows 131 and 149 came running, right to calf 149.  

     Standing twenty feet from the calf and assessing that they were both calm and the calf was lazily climbing to his feet, I pulled the truck beside him and put a tag in it's right ear.

     Texting a photo to my husband with the words, safely and efficiently, he responded with, "How did I know?"  Without saying it he warned me to be careful and that I knew what he meant before leaving for work that morning.  Cow 149 was taking extreme security measures the evening before which did not allow my husband to tag her calf.  I didn't want to pass up an easy opportunity and I just love that I can accomplish it.

     Driving around the field, bawling, I could not summon Cow 131 to show me where she hid her baby girl.  Beginning with the section farthest from Calf 149, I began cutting grass.  Finishing I moved to that patch, again calling to Cow 131 and she will not give up her location. 

     Sighing, I cut the entire rectangle gritting my teeth, my body so tense that my shoulders were up to my ears and my eyes darting right and left constantly.  Assuming she hid her somewhere in the grass that I had cut the day before and I'm not able to see her, I move on. 

     Driving into the hay lot, I decide to clip the little bit of grass that

has grown up through the chat rock before moving onto the West ninety acres.  Unable to recall if there are any large rocks in there, I raise the mower deck a bit to be cautious.  

     I could only drive forward and back up to each fence line instead of turning around due to space.  Backing up for the last eight feet stretch, I shifted into forward, let the clutch out and hear the dreaded sound.

     For the second day in a row, I hit the PTO with my fist as I braked, idled down and threw the tractor into neutral with a plethora of emotions swarming over me.  I'm not sure how I exited the cab so quickly or how I did not stumble as I shuffled to the rear of the mower.  As I neared the fence, I saw her. 

     No. No, no, no, no, no.

     Her eyes tell me she has passed, but she looks perfect.  I instinctively reach out and her black hair is hot from the sun and her heart is beating ferociously against my palm.  I hope against the odds as a mere thirty seconds pass by as her heart slows to nothing.

     Looking her over, I find only a quarter size, "nick" on the back of her head.  As I pulled the mower forward, she had raised her head from her slumber.

     I'm sick with despair.  I took the very life that I had worked so hard to save the day before.  Sitting on the tire of the mower, my heart feels like there is an anchor tied to it.  This is not the first farm animal tragedy, but it is the first dealt by my hand.  It is not just the unnecessary life taken, but each farmer understands that a dead calf does not pay the bank note. 

     There is nothing left that I can do.  I tell her and her Momma, "Sorry bout that."  and climb pathetically into my tractor seat. 




 I was on a nineties music kick that day, my mouth fell open as my ears pick up on Ozzy Osbourne's voice singing these words, 

 "These are your final days.  See you on the other side."

    

 Shit. You. Not. 

 

 

   

   Ozzy's Song

Within an Inch of Her Life

     Finding myself in the tractor on Wednesday, I had a few hours to clip our lush pastures.  A bit late in the summer for us due to the heavy amounts of rain we've had this season.  My previous two weeks had overwhelmed me so I welcomed the monotony of circling those green fields.  

     Although I believe my son gets his mowing skills from his Mother, because when I bore of the same section, I move to another for a change in scenery. 

     The day was bright and sunny, I was working outdoors and I crank up the IPod because I am in a "I can do anything" type of mood.  I slip on my sunglasses, not because I need them in a cab tractor but because I think I feel cooler with them on as I vibrate the windows of the Kubota with some classic rock.

     As I make my turns I leave the easy sections for last.  Making a few passes, I happen to glance from watching the edge of the brush hog in my drivers side mirror, to the front tire.  Simultaneously stomping on the brake as I punch the yellow PTO button, I stare into the tall grass.

     The massive tread of the black tire are within an inch of

chewing into a freshly born black calf.  Backing up a bit, my mind is still in "Surprise!" mode as I step down the metal rungs into the hot pasture.  We aren't due for our first Fall calf for a minimum of three weeks.   

     Approaching her, I scan the fields for any sign of Momma while I nudge the calf with my foot.  Nudging harder, it still is not moving.  Bending down I lift her to her feet while my eyes are darting left and right ensuring that I do not have an angry cow with me in her sights, I realize this heifer is unresponsive.  She is hot with only slow, slight movement in her eyes.  Oh dad gummit!

     I bawled many times and Cow 131 trots within fifty feet of us and acts like she doesn't know this is her calf.  Leaving the baby where she lay, my only assumption is to get her to the shade.  Trading the tractor for the truck, I'm wondering how I'm going to lift her onto the tail gate.  Four heaves later she is partially up there and I shimmy until she is fully loaded.   In hind sight, I should have just loaded her right onto the top of the brush hog.

     Unloading was a tad easier.  Momma doesn't want to have anything to do with her so I rub on her body, trying to get a response.  I then make a 20 minute round trip home and back, toting a bottle that I forced down her gullet.  Instantly I heard her belly grumble as the milk made contact with her tummy.

      Thirty-five minutes later, a third of the bottle was down her and she refused any more.  I rubbed her all over again and I found her

little cow eyes were no longer glazed over.  She called her Momma, weakly and I said, "I"ve done all I can do."  I continue to mow the grass, doing a "drive by" every so often.  An hour and a half later I see her swaying beside her Mother, suckling. 

     Ahhhhh............this day could not have gone any

better.............until I look over and I see Cow 149 crap out a calf of her own and stare as it hits the ground and immediately rolls off the back of the pond bank!  It landed a few feet below her in culvert of sorts and we both gawk in disbelief.  Cow 149 was the first to recover as she called out to her offspring. 

     I did try to pull it out of it's predicament, but I had a hormonal, angry cow try to charge off the embankment at me and I thought, "Let's end this day well."   I'll come back later with reinforcements to check on these two.  

     And that I did.   A couple of hours later when we checked both sets of cow/calf's, all was well with my day. 

     I am proud of this day because I have a fantastic teacher, who is patient and sees my eagerness to learn and who rarely puts boundaries on what I can attempt alone.  I have watched and listened for four years and felt I knew how to handle the situation without calling for help.  

     What I see is progress in myself and that I can have a boss, who is also my husband, put his trust in a herds woman, who is also his wife.

 Carey's Twitter

     

Watching my Clients Grow Up

     Ten years ago, 2005, I moved to the Cuba/St. James Missouri area, only knowing a handful of people.  I took a chance, opening a full time photography studio, making my passion a reality. 

     My business exploded and I quickly began photographing  every family in Crawford County.  Children immediately became my largest clientele.  

     Learning quickly to bring an extra set of clothes to the studio with me, I never knew how I would look at the end of a session.  Creating images of naked babies became a huge popularity, but as we all know babies excrete body fluids at random.  They also did not care if it was their parent holding them or a total stranger. 

     Also having a habit of bringing live animals to my sets, to spawn natural expressions from those kiddos initiated the same response as human babies. 

     Then I would try to get down on a child's level, enlisting their trust in a short amount of time, while sitting or kneeling in the dirt or whatever else was in the grass trying to snap an image while chasing the little devils around the park. 

 

   I have reached that age where I have been in the community long enough that I began photographing these children when they were so young and some have grown to be young adults which then meant high school senior portraits.  

  



   Recently I was deeply reminded of how much our community has supported me in all of my endeavors as I

photographed this beautiful ginger.  I recall those cute freckles and innocent smile from her childhood as I zoom in on her flawless face in my view finder.  Now I see a young woman who still has freckles, but they become her in such a way that they enhance her beauty. 

     In a way, I view these children as my kids.   I made a connection with these nuggets and their families over the last ten years and will always have a fondness for our history.

     I enjoy watching them mature.  
 I value that they continue to put their trust in me for important events in their lives and I cannot wait to see where the world takes them as they move into adulthood.

    
 More Images on FaceBook
     

     

     

Losing Out on Four Years of Front Yard Ball

    Losing and gaining many opportunities during this experience of mine has been ambiguous at times.  I have lost a great amount of my memories over this period of recovery, yet have gained an equally great appreciation of my life because of it.

     Having my physical ability taken away from me has been a vast frustration.  Today's blog is about my son and our lost time together.

     My little man was at the end of his eighth year of life when his sisters and I were hit by a drunk driver.  Still an innocent boy who enjoyed his Mother's company and was invariably thrilled at practicing baseball skills in the front yard with me.

     Late evenings were spent with me throwing the ball any way I could possibly think of for him to catch.  Even more gratifying than that, is if I made him dive or roll in some exaggerated effort and he came up with the ball in his glove and a huge smile on his face.  "Do that again Mom, that was awesome!"

     Then came hitting practice with baseballs hit over the fence into the cow pasture.  At that time I could roll under the barbed wire with him to retrieve those symbols of an American past time.  Today I have no problem falling down, but it takes a considerable amount of time and a crane to return to a standing position.  
 
     For one season, he was obsessed with Albert Pujols batting stance.   Drove me nuts!   That extra wide squat was ridiculous, but I pitched relentlessly until that phase passed. 

     During my second summer of recovery, I stood on my front lawn in a desperate attempt to gain some of that cherished time with my ball player.  Wearing shin guards and a leather glove, I stood for four-six minutes at a time, tossing the ball back and forth with my beaming offspring.  Not being able to move in any direction made him fantastic at throwing the ball at my chest every single time.  But it just wasn't feasible to continue.  Too much pain, continuously stopping so I could take a break, I think I was more frustrated than he was.

     I followed him from game to game with a blue walker that had a Yamaha sticker on the front.  Equipped with wheels and a seat, either him or his sister would end up rolling me to our next location. 

     The pain and swelling of my legs was relentless those first two years.  I napped and iced my ankles between games, but never missed an opportunity to watch my son's passion for running those bases.

     Never had I been so indebted for still being alive to enjoy the simplicity of a hot day in the stands, cheering til my throat was hoarse and excitedly going over in detail every play my now nine year old boy relived.  

     Now that I am speaking publicly about many of those struggles, every now and then I get caught with a question that causes my throat to become swollen with emotion.  

     One such time happened this Spring.  Seven presentations in a row, in a classroom setting had me sensitive to deep inquiries.  A high school senior asked me about my son and I worked that into the end of my speaking production.

     I had not spoken of this before which made it difficult to keep my composure because of how close it is to my heart.  The time I lost with him saddens me.  I feel we were both cheated of those precious moments and I am too often trying to encourage my now thirteen year old man into any activity that includes him and I.  
                        


     Unable to change the past is obvious, I only have the ability to ensure that the present and future are full of as many adventures as my teenage son will allow me.  Cherishing each one and committing it to long term memory, I can look back and feel confident that I am spending my time the way I should be. 

     

  "Yesterday's the past, tomorrow's the future, but today is a gift.  That's why it's called the present." -Bil Keane

Farming: Another Hay Season

     For parents there are so many seasons in the year, more than just the normal four that we all are used to.  The same goes for farmers. 

     This year, Missouri's weather has just allowed us to get into the full swing of hay season.  Scrambling between heavy downpours that the summer thunderstorms have lent us.  

     The rain is a double edged sword.  We needed the rain something fierce, but as Mother Nature would have it, it is feast or famine.  

    On the up side,  I haven't had to water my garden once.  It is nearly July and our seasonal creek has not dried up yet.  The fields of grass are growing at phenomenal speeds.  The grass is so thick this year and with loads of clover!

     On the down side we are rushing to get into our fields when there is a three day stretch of only possible rain, crossing our fingers that we can get it baled before the next storm clouds roll in. 

 Why, with all of the frustrations of putting up hay, do I enjoy it so much?

   

     I do enjoy it more than those who do not have an air conditioned cab tractor, I would assume.  My partners did upgrade to an air cushioned seat as well.  That has made it quite a bit easier on my beat up body.  I do not have much to complain about when it comes to dealing with the heat of the hay field. 

     As a woman  and as one with handicaps, I do have to prepare for my days roaming up and down those lush pastures.  Doing this ensures that I can finish the job and in the best comfort possible. 

     Many days there is no bathroom facility.  We can only drip dry so many times before that becomes an issue.   Having toilet paper, napkins, paper towels or (old shirts?) in the cab is a huge convenience!

     Packing a cooler.  It is not always feasible to drive into town to grab lunch.  We lose precious time cutting grass and I must say it is quite nice to sit in the shade of the tractor tire or along the tree line and pop open a nice bottle of..................water, while watching wildlife or staring at the sky and relishing in how wonderful our lives really are. 

     Bringing a pillow of some sort to perch behind my lower back and frequent stretching with a bottle of Ibuprofen in the cup holder has become my staple. 

     We can sort out all of our problems in silence, except for the humming of the tractor or the swishing of the tedder.   We can also plug in an iPod and belt out everything from Merle Haggard to Motley Crue to Pink!   No one can hear how bad we sound and if it wasn't for our open mouths and limited dance moves showing through the glass windows, the other hay jocks would have no idea how much fun we are having!

     I am torn between loving the fields more when they are waist high or how clean and smooth they look as we roll out the last bale.  I love the feeling of accomplishment as I look across the bottom and view how much progress I've made in an afternoon. 

      I love knowing that I was involved in providing for our farm, the independence I have working alone or with one of my hay jocks and the satisfaction that I defied what professionals believed would never be in my daily activity again. 

     It does not matter what activity brings you these same feelings of accomplishment.  

Every accomplishment starts with one single decision. 

To Try.

Getting NAKED with Melanoma

    

 Even though the month of June in our little Missouri towns have been full of overcast skies and rain, we can still get overexposed to the sun's harmful rays.  I know we all want to feel the warmth since our Winter clamored on for so long and we really haven't been able to enjoy it much, but we must be careful about those burns.

     Yes, you can obtain a sunburn even if the sky is gray!

        As a child, I do not remember anyone making a big deal about sunscreen and it seemed we could stay outside for hours without obtaining that crispy layer of red over our body surface.  Those days are gone!  We have destroyed our protection in the atmosphere and if a blanket of sunscreen is not applied to our delicate outer body layer, we are turning crimson within twenty minutes.

     So let's go to the tanning booth!  Yeah! Noooooo!

     Of course studies relay that "fake tanning" can be equally as harmful or worse than the rays of the real sun.  My option is to spray tan and I buy the good stuff so it blends well with my normal skin tone.

     Anyone and everyone should visit with a dermatologist, not just when you notice a problem, but yearly so you can catch irregularities before they become a problem.  

 

   Few people know this about me, but I developed melanoma at twenty-nine years of age.  Working in the medical field, I had easy access to my physician and asked him to assess a mole that had grown on my back for years.  The mark was hard for me to view myself so detecting change was difficult.  Explaining that I had a sensation that something wasn't quite right is the only reason I had for asking him his opinion.  One look and I was sent to the Dermatologist asap.  

   

  All of us who work in health care understand that when the patient receives a call directly from the physician, all is not well.  That ugly mole that was not causing me any pain or discomfort was cancer.  Finding it in the early stages was essential and it was only detected because I had a "sensation".  It is important to listen to our bodies. 

     That initial finding was ten years ago.   Since then I am accustomed to visiting with my Dermatologist every six months to a year due to finding several other severely atypical nevi, all located on my back.  Since then, my physician has removed more than forty suspicious moles from my body by freezing or shaving methods.(yuck!)  Three more have been surgically excised.  Those three in particular would have also developed into melanoma had we not caught them early. 

     I am not an avid sunbather, although I am a tom boy at heart, enjoying the outdoors inevitably equips me with some sun exposure.  I do take precautions with sunscreen, hats and staying covered up with adequate clothing.  Rarely have I found myself in a tanning bed and the times I can count were all prior to my diagnosis. 

     So why do I continue having these problems if I adhere to the precautions?   Genetic melanoma.  By definition, it is a genetic or inherited condition. This means that the risk of melanoma can be passed from generation to generation in a family.  Yes, there are others in my family that have acquired this condition.  So far, I am the only one it keeps coming after.  

  

   So I didn't do anything wrong, it is just in my body.  I have a predisposition towards the disease and by continuing to take precautions that include taking ten minutes to stand in front of my Dermatologist  naked, I can significantly decrease my risk. 

     Of course the scars are not attractive.  There have been many loud whispers behind me during summer months wondering what in the world would cause such large defects.  "Did I get knifed?" has been my favorite so far.   

     As most of you know, scars are a part of my life since my auto collision and hint at a story without using words.  Attaining these marks of survival instead of receiving treatment over advanced melanoma has been the better choice, even if I am left with a road map of visible challenges.  

Most likely I will acquire more, but each time I understand that because I take care of my health, I am controlling melanoma instead of melanoma controlling me.

Prevent. Detect. Live.

      Never be ashamed of a scar, it simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.

Instagram 

Learning Public Speaking and Overcoming my Fear

     Public Speaking.  My worst fear.  EVER!

     So three years into my recovery my husband and I are discussing my urge to speak publicly about my recovery.   I really wouldn't say it was my urge, but that I was being tugged by an unseen force. ( that's a whole story in itself) 

     Those that know me well realize that public speaking is an action that I have avoided at all cost.  I could not even give a speech at my best friends wedding due to my extreme shyness!  

     Being the center of attention, having all eyes on me, everyone listening to what I want to say?  Fooor.....getttt it!

     This urge to speak up was so strong that it would not be ignored any longer.  Fine.  I need help.  My husband gives presentations like clock work at his work establishment.  Following his guidance, I slowly began thinking of what I wanted to speak about and how I would share it. 

    I received an email from him one afternoon, forwarding information about an online class that he had received from a co-worker with whom he had shared my dilemma.  The six week class was offered by the University of Washington State and stated all students would record four presentations varying from ninety seconds up to ten minutes.  

     This is perfect for me.  I don't have to get up in front of a class, it is just myself and a video recorder.  I can do this.  I need to do this.

     At that point, I could not imagine speaking about anything for ten minutes!  I laugh at that now because ten minutes is over and I'm like, "Wait, I'm not done!"

     Our very first assignment was just a short ninety second speech stating our reason for entering this class.  It was ridiculous how nervous I still became in my living room and a camera pointed towards me!   All I could think about was how many people would be viewing this.   We posted to You Tube and I knew only class members could view it, but still.  I. was. ridiculous.

     My tongue was thick, my sentences ran together.  I definitely hadn't mastered the "dramatic pause"  or any pause for that matter.  I re-recorded it at least seven times if my recollection is correct.  This was going to be a huge challenge for me.  

     So this is how I started my public speaking endeavor and if this shy, introverted woman can do it, there is hope for everyone who faces this same fear. 

                               

I Don't Like Everyone I Meet

      Eh Hum.   Well that's kind of rude.

   
     There are always those that no matter how grand life is, they will always find something wrong with it.  No matter if you performed your activity with pure perfection, they will always find something you could do better.  They can take a simple conversation about how wonderful the sun feels and turn it into a full blown negative conversation about how it is shining too much or not enough. 

     We walk away from that negative conversation with our own shoulders slumped, our spirit stomped on  and no smile on our faces. 

     It is not fair of me to say that I don't like everyone I meet, it is more correct to state that I just do not enjoy everyone's company that I meet. 

     We all encounter those individuals that when you see them from afar, you stop, assess the situation and look for an alternate route around them.  We know the conversation will be pessimistic before we even start and we are not always in the mood to deal with the unfavorable effects that the exchange could have on us.

     Let me tell you of this story.

     The Spring after I began writing my blog I encountered one such woman.  It's not like I could avoid her each and every time we met, since we attended many of the same events.  One such day I turned and observed her making a bee line straight for me.   My muscles tensed, my teeth gritted against each other and I thought, " Oh SNAP!"  Too late.  Eye contact.  Fudge.

     Walking back to our vehicles slowly we began the usual exchange.  I could have given her a pot of gold and it would not have changed her attitude.  I finally had to tell her that her outlook about everything  sucked.  In a polite, but straight forward fashion that is.  

     She stopped us on the pathway and told me how much it meant to her that I was honest and that she faithfully reads my blog.  That she looks forward to each week.  

     I nodded, smiled and said thank you and turned to leave because I did not wholeheartedly believe her.  She then put her hands on my shoulders so that I would pay better attention and said, " No Carey, you don't understand.  My shoulders are so heavy.  I have a hard time handling my life and keeping a positive attitude.  When I read your blog  it brings me some peace and perspective."

     Oh.

     Standing there in shock, trying to quickly comprehend what just erupted out of this woman's mouth, I learned a lesson about myself.   I judged her quickly because of the exterior that she portrayed.  I did not once attempt to look past it at the depressed spirit she was carrying around.   I didn't want to.  It was not pleasant to be around her.  Her body slumped and her eyes, for the first time, were not hard with resentment.

     I sighed.  At the same time I was recovering from her confession, I rolled my eyes toward God for pushing me to do the right thing and silently sent him a message.  " You had better make it worth it when I get up there!"  I envision that His lips formed a slight smirk and I believe He even added a sarcastic wink.  He has a sense of humor, that God.

     We have no idea who will need us and when.  We have no

idea how our words or actions can affect someone.  Had she not put her hands on my shoulders, I would have quickly ended our conversation for fear of how it would spiral down.  I did not offer advice, I listened and fervently attempted to steer her down a more positive path. ( for everyone's sake!)

     Since that time we have developed a better relationship and even spoke of that exact moment as I am describing it to you.  As it turns out, she assumed I was a bit of a snoot because of my quiet personality and tendency to be introverted.  I snickered at our scene.  Here we both made assumptions without knowing the true reality of each other.  

     God puts us in positions that are not always desirable to us.  The position that He puts us in may be a lesson for our own learning or it could be that He is using us because that spirit He created will not listen to Him.  In this instance, I learned something as well as helped one of His children at the same time. 

 That, friends, is an incredible 

feeling.

 

Telemarketers Have Feelings Too

     I love telemarketers!  Said, No One Ever!

     My first mistake was answering my cell phone without looking at the caller.  Something I rarely do, but he caught me at a busy moment and I answered in a bright cheery voice," Hi, this is Carey."  That was instantly followed by a groan and eye rolling as he began his prepared introduction.  

     Each one of us has encountered these individuals, reacted similarly or have taken it farther by hanging up, being terse with them or taking out your day on the person who is at the other end of the call. 

     This man had no idea what kind of business he was calling, mine was just on a list with my name attached.  I let him get in two sentences when I imported the word, NO into our conversation.  Of course that does not deter these thick skinned creatures of the marketing world.  

     Finally I had to explain Why I could not run a full time photography business anymore and would not be needing a credit card machine on a continuous basis.

     Pause.

     When he responded his voice had changed.  It was soft, emotional and empathetic.  He says to me, " I completely understand.  When my daughter was four years old, I rolled our Tahoe.  She had taken off her seat belt and I did not know it.  She was thrown out of the window and we could not find her after the accident.  She died twice before reaching the hospital.  She has some handicaps but has recovered well for the severity of the accident."

     Pause.

     Well cripes, he is human.  He just made himself a person to me.  I was caught up in him interrupting my day with something that I was not going to purchase and I never really thought about him as a human being.  He was just a nuisance until that point in the conversation.  

     Not another word was spoken about why he was really calling.  We exchanged condolences and encouragement for each other and he ended the call with, "God bless." 

     Even if he had asked, he would not have made a sale that day, but this call had a purpose other than selling a product.  

     Each time I get caught up in life and don't take the time to pay attention, I get a wake up call.  Although this one was small, it was needed.  It is up to me to listen and take action. 

     There are those we never really see as people with feelings because we never look past their exterior.  There was no reason for me to get intimate with a telemarketer, that is just how it worked out.  I never would have viewed him as anything other than that.  I would not have thought about his family or that he needs this job to pay for his daughter's medical bills.  

     This call did teach me to slow down and look at those around me as I would my own family and friends.  They may be rude and crude, but underneath that rough surface is someone trying to survive, just like me.

  

 StrongerThan Yesterday Facebook  
Twitter 

Book Review: Restless Angel by Sue Stewart-Brown

     So there is this woman, whom I have known for many years, not well, but when I viewed a post on Facebook from her daughter, about a book she had written, my immediate reaction was, "Say what?!!!" "Get out!"  I had to read the entire post to see what was up because I was excited and intrigued by this new knowledge I had.

     We all know her as Sue Stewart-Brown from Cuba, MO.  Grabbing my ipad and clicking on my Kindle app from Amazon.com, I searched Restless Angel in the "books" category and sure as the sun shines there she was with a listing of her very own!

     

Description:
Corrine James is a successful career woman at the point of burn-out. Looking to simplify her life, she starts with a leave of absence to find her focus. Hundreds of miles from home and on a whim she decides to take a job cleaning and cooking for a handsome cowboy and his family. Tyler Drake has seen his share of trouble in his life, but he has carved out a peaceful existence for himself and his "family" on his ranch in Montana. A widower with a son and two old cowboys for help, they are all quite satisfied with their lot in life. Other than the fact that someone has been trying to sabotage Ty's ranch operation, the men appear to only want for a decent meal. Their backgrounds and histories could make for them being at odds with each other, or it could draw them closer than they ever imagined.

     From the first chapter these characters had me enraptured.  Probably because I relate to them, but I know when a book has really gotten my attention because when I'm sitting at baseball practice, aggravated that I have forgotten to bring my ipad because I'm wondering what is going to happen next between Corrine and Ty!  

     Finding myself giggling because I can feel Sue's humor coming out in these characters, I loved that she wrote about what she knew, what she has experienced.  I could sense that she drew some of her story from our little town and loved it.  I believe I was in such awe because I actually know Sue, but had no idea she could write so well. 

Here is my review on Amazon.com:
     Well written with great flow of storyline! Couldn't wait to finish & loved the allure of passion without being a smut book.

     In asking Sue how she chose to write a story like this her response was: As far as what prompted me to write these types of stories, they are the ones I like to read.   I never like the stories where they separate the couple, where they put them with another person for a while (for any reason) or where they write explicit scenes.  (Yeah, I'm one of those old women who never read Fifty Shades of Gray).  I like a happy ending and I can't imagine ever writing something where the couple doesn't end up together at the end of the story. 

     Sue has been writing for thirty years or so, but like all of us, got busy with being a mother/wife and was not able to concentrate on it.  Restless  Angel began over thirteen years ago and finally came to life this year!  

     I want a sequel and in asking Sue if that will become a reality she stated:  Ty and Corrine have been so well accepted that I feel I need to write a couple more that include them. I pray before I write and I know that God has tried to lead me to write something wholesome!   

     I highly recommend this book and I believe it deserves to be read by many.  It should definitely have a higher price tag attached to it.  My only suggestion is that Sue should have hired me to photograph a cover for her.  I'm sure we could have scrounged up a rugged cowboy from Crawford County to be her Ty!

      For her sequel,

Who would like to volunteer? 

     You can order directly from Amazon.com, paperback or downloadable version. Link Restless Angel  

You can find Sue on Facebook and Twitter if you have any questions for her.

A Miscarriage, a Tumor and Premature Menopause

     What all three of these events have in common is me.

     Many, many moons ago, when my daughter was eighteen months old, I found myself pregnant with my second child.  For whatever reason, my pregnancy tests never showed up positive until I was eight weeks gestation.  Just days after receiving confirmation that I was with child, I miscarried.  

     Having a career in the medical field, I did not recall any of our patients stating they had terribly painful miscarriages.  The pain became intense enough that I called my physician and was instructed to come to their office immediately.  Calling my mother, I not only had to tell her that I was pregnant and in the middle of a miscarriage, but that I was having complications and needed a ride to my doctor an hour away.  

     An ultrasound displayed that a tumor had grown on my right ovary that was two and a half inches in diameter.  It was benign but had to be removed.   A dilation and curettage (D & C) was also needed to remove the lining of my uterus after miscarriage.  

     That was my first experience with enduring a surgery.   I realized that anesthesia causes me extreme nausea and dry heaving after an abdominal surgery was dreadful.  My physician stated that because of the size of the tumor that I would probably enter into premature menopause at an early age. 

     At the ripe age of thirty-four, I started developing my first symptoms.  Nearing the end of my MRI education, I noticed my skin began looking more like a teen, but not in a good way.  My skin was already naturally oily, but blemish after blemish started to pop up.   Small and infrequent hot flashes arose.   I could not believe it was happening so early.  

     Fast forward just six months and I was involved in a major car collision that really got my body out of whack.  Eight weeks after the collision, I sat in my wheelchair facing my husband who was sitting on the couch, emotion gushing out of my soul as I speak of the heartache I was reacting to, when I pick my head up and boldly  inquire, " My God, is it hot in here?"  My husband desperately trying to keep up with my switch in conversation, slowly begins to smile.  It spread to each cheek as he starts laughing and humorously announces to me, " Carey, don't you remember you are in premature menopause?"  Sitting in aghast confusion, my mouth opens in astonishment as my eyes became as wide as silver dollars.  " What?!", I asked incredulously.  "That's not fair!  I have to go through all of this?   At the same time?"  I was appalled.

    Some months later I decided I should try herbal remedies to diminish my symptoms and after three other products failed, a close friends recommended Estro Rhythm. 

     I did not want any more prescribed medicines, I had enough of those hanging around in my body already.  Within two weeks, I felt a huge difference in the frequency of my hot flashes, my skin began clearing up and my irritability was under control.  Between dealing with recovery and the change of life, I felt I might end up on an episode of "Snapped'.  It really wasn't quite to that level, but it was more than I had ever experienced before and I wanted to nip it in the bud as early as I could.  

   Manufactured by It Works,  Estro Rhythm is a two-part daily solution that includes a supplement and conveniently pre-measured, daily balancing cream application made with natural ingredients. It helps to relieve menopausal symptoms and is safe and effective.  I have now been using this product for over two years and I wouldn't change it for anything.  Here is my pun.  Because It Works!    Again I am not a distributor so I only pass this information on because of my positive experience with it.   Also I have not had a weight gain since starting this regimen!

     I originally geared this post towards women, but my male audience should read this info and if your female partner is having these symptoms, get online and order this for her asap.  You will both be happier with the results.  

Get your Rhythm back!

 

Distributor: Kim McMillen   

 http://kimmcmillen.myitworks.com/shop/  

Kims FB