About Me

My photo
Born in Santa Monica, California, I was raised in the small bedroom community of Sunkist Park that borders Culver City, Playa del Rey, Mar Vista and Venice. I attended Venice High School, West LA Community College and California Institute of the Arts. My studies included English, English Literature, Poetry, Creative Writing, Choir, Classical Voice, Shakespeare, Musical Theater, Television and Film Acting and Art History. In 1980, I relocated to the Pacific Northwest and in 1982 I married Kurt Wolf in Corvallis, Oregon. During the course of our long journey together, I have remained devoted to not only my husband, but to my friends and family, and the arts. What defines me most is my passion for expression through art. I’m an avid reader, writer and poet.I also enjoy painting and photography. Additionally, some folks consider me a pretty good cook.




























Email Susie Rosso Wolf

If you have any questions about "New Prairie Woman", "Saving Susie", my "Phoetry", Montana, or writing in general, please email me directly at: GrumpySusie@msn.com — Looking forward to hearing from you. I hope you enjoy "New Prairie Woman". ~ Susie

Friday, May 27, 2011

03.S08.P2 Where We Live





Where We Live


Susie Rosso Wolf


Where we live we can stand at our kitchen window and watch the moose walk down the hill behind our home, step over our fence, clomp across our pasture, down into the gully and then up to the mountain.


Where we live the sky is endless and blue and looking at it makes your eyes water and your mind wander, wondering if anything could ever be as beautiful.


Where we live three rives join at the headwaters to make up the glorious waterways that travel all the way to heaven, it seems.


Where we live the Great Blue Heron fly across three rivers then land in the marshes and proclaim first dibs on the day’s best catch.


Where we live there are more cows than people and if there are two cars ahead of you or two cars behind you or three cars beside you’re in a traffic jam.

Where we live our houses are not on streets but on roads or trails with gravel or mud or frozen ground.

Where we live we hang our wet laundry out on a line in the summer and listen to the wind flap the sheets dry, then quickly take them down before the loud clapping of a thunder storm gets too close.

Where we live counting stars is not a past time but a spiritual experience, a mandatory nightly ritual.

Where we live there are more churches than banks and more men in those churches who are comfortable in loving their wives their children and their friends and neighbors and they aren’t afraid to ride a bull but sure pray on Sunday that they don’t fall off of one.

Where we live there are no video arcades, Starbucks, Taco Bells or computer stores or shopping malls.

Where we live there aren’t any street lights or traffic lights. Where we live there is only one stop sign in the center of town.

Where we live you can spend about two hours at the hardware store just chewing the fat.

Where we live there aren’t any contracts to be signed only hands that shake on a man’s word and it is kept.

Where we live your neighbor is your best friend and he will always be there when you are in need and likewise.

Where we live we don’t drive new cars but old tractors and combines, pick-up trucks and quarter horses.

Where we live our horses and dogs are considered family members.

Where we live you can sit out on the front porch to catch a glimpse of four mountain ranges that make up some kind of glorious magnificent miracle.

Where we live life is simple yet grand. Cold but cozy. Extreme and incredible.

Where we live each person lives by the honor system, respects our community and values their freedom.

Where we live the Bald Eagles soar as the Red Tail Hawks screech and circle over their prey.

We live where buffalo once roamed and have since come back home and the deer play hopscotch across the prairie.

We live in a place called “the last best place” and we aim to keep it that way…

…We love, living… where we live.

2 comments:

  1. The last best place sure sounds like a heaven unto itself. I am quite sure I would be right at home. Love your writing and am looking forward to reading more. Thanks for your praise and for stopping by Artistix Networks Facebook page.

    ReplyDelete

Thank you for your Following my Blog. Your comments are most appreciated.

~ Susie Rosso Wolf








































ADD a COMMENT to Facebook

Index





















Click LIKE Button to Send to Facebook

New Prairie Woman Web Page