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I sat curled up in my La-Z-Boy chair the other afternoon considering the ending of the classic book I had just finished - Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte. Throughout the pages I had been held spellbound as Mrs Dean, the housekeeper, relayed the heartbreaking story of Heathcliff and the Earnshaw family. This love story was truly gut wrenching for more than one reason. The abandoned orphan, Heathcliff, was brought home to Wuthering Heights where he was met with much disdain. Eventually he and the young Catherine fell in love. It was the only real love he had ever known. My heart was torn when, in a twist of fate, Catherine rejected Heathcliff and married a rich neighbor, a man she didn't love. The rest of the sad story relates Heathcliff's undying, yet twisted, love as he seeks through devious ways to get revenge on Catherine and her heirs. This vengeful mindset carries him to the grave, dragging many ruined lives along with him.

The bright sun danced in my eyes as I zipped my jacket and headed out of the barn into the crisp morning air. I threaded my way through the crowds of Carhart-clad men and women who had gathered for the farm machinery auction. I followed the sound of the auctioneer's chant to the place where our clerking cart was located and exchanged places with the clerk on duty. Without speaking I immediately gave all my attention to what was happening before me. As the auctioneer called bids, my fingers flew over the computer keys recording the description, the price, and the bidder number for each item sold. Moving through the line of green and yellow riding mowers, I inched through the pressing crowd to keep the auctioneer and the items in view.

I stayed home from work the other day to enjoy a productive but relaxing time of housework and leisure.  Everything was peaceful until Emily came running downstairs panicked because she could not find the power cord to her computer. She was on her way out the door to study when she realized that it was missing. We began to comb the house for  this essential piece of hardware. Her computer was dead and she would not be able to study without it. After a frantic search she remembered that she had left it at a friend's house and, filled with relief, left to retrieve it and continue her studies.

Recently I  enjoyed going to the Cedarville High School play and watching John-Keith and his friends perform in the Sound of Music. I love this story and was so impressed with the amazing talents displayed.  The singing, dancing and acting were wonderful and everyone who attended was delighted. I couldn't help but wonder about the bright futures of all these young people.

Billy jogged home under the hot Nebraska sun. He carried in his pocket a treasure he had found in the field and he couldn't wait to show his mother and sister. As he ran up the front steps, the banging door alerted them that he was home. Dashing into the kitchen Billy exclaimed, "Look what I found!" Emptying his pockets he extended his hand to reveal a tiny baby snake. His sister screamed and ran into the other room, but his mother bent down for a closer look.  "Billy!" she exclaimed, "You can't keep that snake. Look at the rattle on his tale. This tiny rattler will grow big and become very dangerous. You must take it outside right now and kill it before it can hurt anyone."

This has been a long and hard winter. The other day I trudged out to the barn to take care of the daily chores. I noticed that the goats were low on water, so I pulled on the pump handle to fill their bucket. Immediately I realized that the pump was frozen again. I sighed in frustration, grabbed a bucket and headed back to the house. I positioned the 5-gallon bucket under the bathtub spicket, waited for it to fill, and lugged it back out to the barn. As I have done many times this winter, I dreamed about the warm sun coming out and thawing the ground, the pipes, and my frozen feet.