I See You Lord

I love you Lord

My  Lord I really do

I see you in  streams that flow

In the glow of a butterfly's wings

In green grasses blowing

In the blue of summer skies


You are the heavens above

The joy in my eyes

My hope, my peace, my strenght 

Forever and eternal 

I adore and love you

You are everything good and true 

Barb Franzen

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Inner Joy: Not Apart

Inner Joy: Not Apart: Not Apart She might have died but wait… We’re not apart− not yet I see her in the curl of the windy waves, hear her  knock ...

A Child's Sandhill Play

I always thought of the hills in back of our home in Lincoln County, Nebraska as being the Sandhills. I was wrong. The Sandhill's soil extended itself out to the Platte River about a mile and a half south of my house. This mile and a half between the Platte River Valley and home, was pasture land. One could stand in the pasture and see the ranch which was nine miles away, consisting of clay land,  fed by the Platte River.
    McCullough's Grove was  a part this area and a  favorite for the entire town. . By crawling between  barbed wire, one found themselves  in a grove with hundreds of fallen logs, trees, owls, and birds. School kids came here for a picnic each year. Back then we brought a sack lunch and everyone had to cross our pasture to get there.That made me proud though it seems funny to consider this.
    My family made great use of that forest. Evenings we would go there for picnics. My father cooked our meat in a skillet while having a work day beer. After eating, we'd sit still in the dark with the awesome, silent cottonwoods, ash, and  elm trees  standing overhead,  with cedars everywhere, keeping their secrets along with the owls and their hoots. One year my older sister had a Halloween party there and hung mummies from the trees, Dad was in charge of dropping them to the ground when the girls walked by. It scared them witless. My sister also built white graves, did the grapes for eyes trick, and other antics. It made for a fabulously spooky and fun party. Other times, we picked currents at the grove. Mother made current jelly which was the best. My friend Eddie and I walked the grove many a hot summer day. There here was an old abandoned house where a man had lived. No one knows who it was or when, but there was a stove pipe and walls still there.
   To the right of the grove, a  cow tank overflowed making a small pond. Eddie and I would walk there after school and put on our skates. It was horribly cold and it seems amazing that we would put ourselves through such a long walk. At that time, we still did not have television or air conditioning. Frankly, I for one am glad. It gave us a chance to be one with nature and the outdoors and to develop patience. Nothing was instant. Usually you had to involve some sort of effort to derive satisfaction.
    Along with the grove, I had my playhouse in the top of our barn which was built to match the house. The playhouse was upstairs and quite elegant. I had my parents red velvet table and chairs up there and I also had little crystal dishes that were my grandmother's. Kids came from town to play there with me. The horses were right outside in the corral. One day Eddie and I got in the tank trying to find the hematite ring that Dad lost. He said he'd pay us. We found it but didn't get paid. He never forgot his omission. Years later in his late eighties, he walked out on Christmas with the ring. It went to my son, and Dad apologized. As I look back to my Sandhills formation years, I feel warm inside. At the time, I thought growing up there was punishment Little did I know the values that would come to me as a result of those hot summer days and frozen winter months. This land still beckons me, calling out, "I am yours forever..." 
Next the ranch, homesteading, and the Platte Valley-templeranch.templeranch.wordpress.comwordpress.com

My Home-Nebraska Sandhills-Prairieland

   I am passionate about the Nebraska Prairie. As a child growing up just outside the small town of Brady,Nebraska,  my father's ranch was nine miles south (with clay soil), while we lived  at the foot of the Sandhills. It was here that I spent hours hiking the hills, hunting for the lake that "didn't exist," and chasing lizards whose tails fell off in my hands. I also found snakes and blowouts from which I jumped, enjoying the free sail through the air. The Sandhills were barren and greatly void of trees. Loaded with various grasses and a sand base, they made wonderful grazing country for cattle. Raising crops was harder due to lack of irrigation and water. A classmate had a party one night and a friend and I sat and looked over the land from a hilltop. Some forty nine years later, I remember how the snow reminded of a huge ocean under the moonlight.That land spread out for miles, hill after hill, unhampered. It was awesome.
   My wish was to spend a winter up there, a really bad blizzard, snowed in. I wanted generated heat, garden produce, canned meat, and all the amenities needed for survival in this less populated area of the United States. Little did I know that these hills were one of a kind. That they weren't to be found anywhere else in the world. Today, authors write a fair amount about them and the people who lived there.I find the Sandhills  most beautiful at sunset, during the winter, when they take on a cold bluish hue that makes me want to fix warm stew when I go home.
   The Sandhills were filled with jack rabbit and pheasants. I used to go with my dad who hunted these rabbits.. I have a picture of me standing on the hill with about six rabbits dangling from my arm..Other times, Dad would go pheasant hunting and he and his pharmacist friend, and a man named, Doc Pyle, would go up north and shoot these birds.Both the rabbit and  pheasant made for delicious eating-I keep feeling that I should apologize. I wasn't the hunter and I didn't watch. Anyway, along with these, I would listen to the coyote howl at bedtime, an eerie, but wonderful sound. Rather lonely.
   One day when I was alone and hiking-I went to my favorite blowout and was on my way home, I looked down and saw a fully beaded and most colorful snake. It took my breath away-both because it was http://templeranch.wordpress.combeautiful and also because I feared it might be poisonous-though I knew it wasn't a rattler. As I remember it had blue and orange beading. I still wonder what it was that I encountered.
    I had a relative, Art Nelson, who owned the Big Dipper Ranch up in the Sandhills north of Brady in Wild Horse Valley. His cattle brand was made to represent a dipper, and he had cowboy boots on the top of the fence posts, used to greet people. At least one pair of boots were still there a few years back.
    I am going to stop here with the Sandhills. I will return with the clay hills, south of the Platte in the Platte River Valley next time. After that, I want to write about the plains in their very early state before they were settled by hundreds of pioneers. After that I have my vast collection of literature to share from.
   The wondrous prairie with its grass, wildlife, flowers, and all that makes it quaint and charming, is part of my heartbeat and soul.  Please share your thoughts and knowledge.I would be most grateful. 

From -The Rag Princess by Barb Franzen

This is a later scene from the Rag Princess-hopefully out by Christmas. The war has just begun and Will and Celeste were on the way to the movie but take a detour out to what would have been Pioneer Park were it built in  1941,--- Will  was turning the car around. No movie for him when something huge had just begun. Before long he’d be bombing the Japanese. After all, he would be   among the first to go over. What did that mean? Did the first to go ever come home? Go first-die first? Suddenly he was gripped with terror.

     Celeste was still grasping what she’d heard. War! Japan, United States, Pearl Harbor…where and what was that?  Franklin Roosevelt…War! Will…No! Not Will! He couldn't leave her, not now…not ever.  She could feel Will’s terror. Will would undoubtedly be one of the first to go. She looked over at  him and suppressed a sob…a scream… NO- She was not going to fall apart. Hadn't she  just discussed his strengths versus hers, with him?  She'd told him he was dependable and supportive? If his face was any indication of what she could do, then by golly she would. She would not fall apart on him. If there was one thing  Sylvie had taught her, it was what people needed when they were trapped and fearful and lonely and all of those hideous dark things. She would be Will's cookies and letters and more than that, she would be his unconditional love.

     “Will, this is your chance to show your stuff  and learn your stunt flying.”

              “You think so.?” he asked, 

Candleglow Dreams-Sexual Abuse Theme

In writing Candleglow Dreams, i wanted to use my experience with working as a child therapist-At least one out of three children had been abused-These kids came fom all walks of life-Many from the foster system-some from homes where the abuse went on in the next room-For my story I researched the perpetrator who goes for several children at once. In creating Celeste's situation I made her into a girl who fir the profile-At age tweleve Celeste loses her parents-a good farm family-She winds up with an aunt she has never heard of-There is a family secret that her mother, a compliant woman can't bring heself to share fearing that her children will blame her for the discord-the aunt, Sylvie, a socialite-and psyccopathic personality takes her rage out on Celeste who looks like her mother-Celeste is twelve when she and her brother move there-In the story she is isolated from all those she knows-A shy girl who is constantly put down by the aunt-she has no friends and is shut off from her sister-two years later she is placed with a bogus pastor who runs a group for "shy" girls-He is extremely persuasive- a man who is worshiped by a huge congegation-As soon as Celeste meets him-in her loney state-he begins to flirt-By now she is sixteen and begins to fantasize-She's Aat the age where she would normally want a boyfried-She falls in love but only in her mind-As time passes-she grows dependent on him-but at the same time knows his touching ia wrong-When she confronts him he gets angry threatening to cut her out of his life-she finds herself in a vicious cycle-She wants to think he is good-Afterall hundreds of people believe in him-Likewise he shames her when angry-Eventually she begins to find him pathetic-Less mature tha the boys at school-Yet he has a way with her-like being hypnotised-she can't get out from under his apell-Eventually something happens and she realizes how sick he is-albeit he makes his move-She is blamed-this is convenient He operates by moving from church o church-She is made to think she is evil and that it was her fault-In Part Two she meets her father's
boss's som- a rancher-A love story follows-and the quesion is.. Will she return home to the hills of Nebr-The perpetrator goes after those who need them-At least this is common and a good way to hook a child-Mnay won't have the background necessary for understanding what is happening or to say "no."

Simple and Beautiful Like Jesus

Holidays, gifts, trees, Stores, parties, relatives, friends, cookies, bars, Hordoerves, cards. Wines, travel, ribbon, Wrappings, Money, Clothes, music, snowmen, Decorations, Lights, More Money, Noise, Flashing lights...Is any wonder we feel stressed-Along with doing it right is the plight of trying to satisfy and please everyone from family to coworkers to friends and acquaintances. What an enormous task to ask of others and ourselves. For some this is right but for many Christmas turns into an event that's a bit like living in a zoo-although I think a zoo would be easier than what we do. Have you ever wondered what Christmas for Jesus would have been like had he celebrated this holiday.I liked the softness that my ways as I pondered this thought.I felt free as though-Jesus so loving was giving me permission for simplicity -He lived a simple life devoid of possessions, of pleasing others for the sake of being liked, he had boundaries, took time for prayer...I think he would have calmly stated his needs and gone about his business (teaching us to care and love) ...that giving one small thing was  a humble expression of love... more thought provoking than spending more than we have, by giving gifts that aren't wanted or used...I think Jesus would have suggested that we simplify the season, that we delve into our spirituality, that our time be more "simply wonderful." My ideal Christmas would be food and clothing my on someone truly needing-then a gathering- a small group at our cabin-to eat, sing, laugh, share stories, perhaps take a walk, or ride, even making cookies together would be fun...Perhaps  giving a small gift. The joy would be in the sharing of hearts.So simply beautiful...Next time-some simple gifts.to give-