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getting organized in the new year!

January 10, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner 26 Comments

Yesterday I spent the entire day getting my home office organized while my blog migrated from Blogger to WordPress. (Most of you won’t care about this, but you bloggers will… It was like waiting for my child’s fever to break. IAmNoComputerProgramer, and this whole process has been nerve-wracking for me…)

Since I was tied to my computer anyway, I sorted stacks and stacks of paperwork organizing everything into my new cool files. They make me happy.

I cleaned my chalkboard wall and erased last year’s completed lists or abandoned ideas in favor of a fresh slate. This is where I write story and blog ideas, lists, inspirational quotes, etc. (It is still wet in the picture and looks a bit strange…)

And I shredded tons of paper—pages and pages of my book rough draft, thousands of words written last year.

And I worked on taxes.

This morning my blog is up and running (although it no doubt needs tweaking), and my desk is organized.

Whew!

Happy Weekend.

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

farm girl sledding…

January 9, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner 5 Comments

Snow fell during the
night like a secret,
our morning a surprise, a
winter wonderland.

No school for days and days,
sometimes even weeks.
Dusty, bumpy gravel roads
hidden, clean, tucked
beneath flat white sheets.

Conditions too hazardous
for Mr. Robinson’s
school bus proved ideal
on a hubcap sled chained
behind Daddy’s farm truck.

No rules, no roads,
shallow ditches and
summer fields transformed
into our slippery playground.

I couldn’t feel my nose,
but miles from the world
my heart soared.

morgueFile xBlackxCreedx

talya

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

Musical Pairing:

Hazy Shade of Winter, Simon and Garfunkel

a Christmas memory: buying the tree…

December 12, 2013 By Talya Tate Boerner 7 Comments

Keiser Supply Company, our small town hardware store, received its shipment of Christmas trees in early December. We weren’t allowed to buy one until Momma could borrow Daddy’s truck to bring it home. And since Daddy worked AllTheTime, it was almost Christmas before we finally drove into town for our tree.

Way in the back warehouse where it was chilly, fresh Scotch pines propped against the wall. Momma held tree after tree upright so we could see from every angle.

Momma said until the tree “fell” it was impossible to really know what it would look like.

I didn’t know what she meant.

I thought they were all beautiful.

My sister and I circled through the Christmas forest inhaling fresh, fragrant evergreen until we became so cold, we agreed on a tree.

Mr. Cunningham tied our perfect specimen to the truck bed so it wouldn’t flip out into a field on the way home.

“Momma, should I ride back there with it?” I stared at the tree, worried it would get smashed by Daddy’s tools.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll freeze to death.”

She wouldn’t let me.