Audiobooks · family · My Thoughts · Ranching

My Dad, Harold Horner!

My Dad, Harold Horner on Rusty
My Dad, Harold Horner, on Rusty

Meet my dad, Harold Horner, this Father’s Day, 2024. He was a lifelong cowboy who loved his a job dearly. Also Dad loved to dance! Here are two of my poems about Dad in written format and in audio format from my new audiobook, This Tumbleweed Landed.

Dancing with my dad at his 75 birthday party!
No one did it his way!
He slithered into the next move
with a step like no one else, graceful and fun.

He said he got drunk one night, stumbled,
liked how it felt,
and decided to keep it.

I wish one of his male offspring had learned it;
one of his dancers, Bub or Wade,
but it’s gone now—with Dad. I dream about it—
the illusive move that felt so good and united me with him.

Mom and I can do it!
But it just was not the same.
It was his move!

Larada Horner, This Tumbleweed Landed, (Horner Publishing Company, 2014), 21.

Listen to the audio of this poem:


East of Branson, 
one-half mile starts
the Horner ranch!

My granddad put it together
in the late 1920s—
quite a feat during the Depression.

Granddad and Dad worked side by side.
Many years of
a teamwork so instinctual
words were not needed.

Dad gave it his life,
a life full of
potential bodily harm
and deep, deep joy and satisfaction.

Warmhearted memories abound...
memories of our land, horses, cattle.

Time three generations spent together:
My granddad,
my dad,
and Sue, Bub, and me.

Larada Horner, This Tumbleweed Landed, (Horner Publishing Company, 2014), 65-66.

Listen to the audio of this poem:

Last week I shared a story about a watermelon rind fight from my new audiobook. This week I wanted to feature poems I wrote about my dad, celebrating Father’s Day. When I remember Dad, I smell leather and sweat. I see a man who wore a long-sleeved western shirt, jeans and boots every day out to the ranch. In the summer, Dad wore a straw cowboy hat; in the winter, he wore a felt cowboy hat. He prided himself on old-fashion morals and standards: be honest, a handshake was as good as a contract and family came first, above all else.

Because he had asthma, during World War II he had a 4F rating and couldn’t volunteer or enlist. So he helped the different ranchers in the area who had sons who went to fight. He shared many stories about the Dick Louden ranch and the fun he had there—it was his favorite!

He absolutely loved his life!

Dad died January 6, 1996—that date altered my life forever. When Father’s Day comes up every year, nostalgia sets in and I remember Dad. These poems share some of my heartfelt memories and feelings! Many people romanticize cowboys—I actually lived with one and saw who he really was—my hero!


Buy Let Me Tell You a Story Audiobook

Buy Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Memoir Audiobook

When Will Papa Get Home? Cover - My Dad

Grab When Will Papa Get Home? this week for $.99 until June 20 on Amazon. A great after-Father’s Day gift!


Enjoy my interview on the podcast, The Writing Table


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Audiobooks · My Books · My Thoughts · Self-publishing

Listen—The Joy of Audiobooks!

Listen to an audiobook

Listen—that’s the joy of audiobooks. Sit back, grab a cool drink and find a shady place to sit this afternoon for a fun-filled experience of a watermelon fight!

Listen To A Section Of My New Audiobook

This Tumbleweed Landed audiobook cover meme - liste

Listen to a section, “The Sting of the Rind” in of my new audiobook, This Tumbleweed Landed, which will be available in the next couple weeks at many distributors.

Yes, what an experience that was for me! I had sticky, gooey watermelon juice all over, then a ride in the back of a truck with loose hay dancing around down a dirty country road—a formula for a mess!

Listening Not Your Thing—Read!

“My goodness! What happened to you? Hay?” exclaimed my grandmother as she circled us.

“We had a watermelon seed and rind fight at the picnic; we rode in the back of a truck—with hay,” I said, softly fighting back tears. My brother quietly ducked in the door behind me.

What a week! My dad had gotten bucked off his horse on Thursday preparing for fall shipping of calves and was in the hospital with a broken hip. My brother and I were staying with my grandparents. I desperately wanted to go to the 4-H picnic tonight at the Winfords’—the social event of the fall for this country community. My uncle and aunt agreed to take us along with their six children.

The problem at the picnic arose around my dad. He was our club square dance caller, and we were to have a barn dance. He didn’t make it, but the watermelons did.

When we arrived, everyone asked about Dad—how he was, how bad he was hurt, whether he needed help. 

The warm October evening invited all outside once plates were filled with the delicious food that our potluck offered.

Sitting under the table seemed to be hundreds of watermelons; ladies chuckled. Being busy shipping time, everyone had brought watermelon for dessert.

Questions arose about what to do for the evening. We had brought Dad’s records—we could dance, but the records stayed in the case. It wouldn’t be the same without Dad.

It was time! Dessert—juicy, red watermelon cut in quarter pieces—waited in stacks. No forks or spoons—we just ate with bare hands, juice dripping down to our elbows. A second piece, a third, and more!

One timely seed spit at an innocent passing victim caused a full-fledged war, escalating into rind-throwing. All of us—high school to elementary—ran, threw, hid, and got hit.

Have you ever been hit with a watermelon rind? It stings like a bee bite.

Where were the adult chaperones? They stood well out of our range, enjoying our freedom to create an enjoyable activity and relieved they didn’t have to entertain us.

This battle went on, and I managed pretty well, being hit enough to be thoroughly sticky. Everyone I looked at had plastered hair, faces, and clothes.

On the trip home we rode in the back of my uncle’s truck. The truck bed was covered with loose hay, and as soon as my uncle started up the ten-mile dirt road, hay danced around like it was a spirit.

As we sped down the lane, the dirt from the road swirled back into our faces and pelted us with grit.

When we arrived at my grandparents’ door, my brother and I looked tarred and feathered—only this time with sweet-smelling watermelon juice, pungent hay, and a light layer of dirt.

I stood tentatively in front of my grandmother, wondering if we were in trouble.

“You two need a bath” was her only response as she settled in her favorite chair.

A sparkle lit her eyes, and she giggled to herself. “Good, clean fun,” she said, maybe remembering a similar incident from her own childhood.

Larada Horner-Miller, This Tumbleweed Landed, (Horner Publishing Company, 2014), 129-131.


To this day, watermelon remains my favorite summertime treat. It cools me down and the sweet flavor gives me a pickup for sure, and I always chuckle with this memory in mind.

To listen or to read, that is the question! Because this is Audiobook Appreciation Month and I just finished and uploaded my book, This Tumbleweed Landed. I’ve become a fan of audiobooks. How about you?

If so, you can purchase and listen to my books at the following places:

Buy Let Me Tell You a Story Audiobook

Buy Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Memoir Audiobook


When Will Papa Get Home? Cover - Listen

Here’s a FREE Father’s Day gift for you! June 11-15 my e-book, When Will Papa Get Home?, will be FREE! Click and download a copy for Dad at Amazon!


Enjoy my interview on the podcast, The Writing Table


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Audiobooks · My Books · My Thoughts

June—Audiobook Appreciation Month: Take a Leap!

June is Audiobook Appreciation Month

June—Audiobook Appreciation Month! Have you bought yours yet this month? I have two available audiobooks now and one more this week or next!

I just finished listening to an audiobook, Break Though the BS by Derek Doepker, driving home from Colorado on Thursday and then to church this morning. Do you listen to them? I love being able to listen to a book while driving. I also really enjoy hearing the book in the author’s voice. Derek entertained me for miles plus shared some great ideas to improve my life.

So, to celebrate Audiobook Appreciation Month this June, I would like to share with you my two titles I’ve done, and my next one should be finished this week.

Let Me Tell You a Story

Let Me Tell You A Story Audiobook Cover Meme - June

This delightful chapbook tells the story of how my grandfather, Laurence Horner, put our family ranch together in southeastern Colorado during the depressions when many others were losing theirs.

Harold Horner, my dad begins the tale in Oklahoma and how the young Horner’s ended up in a small ranching community in southeastern Colorado, exchanging mail delivery positions from Colorado to Oklahoma and back. How they did this prior to the internet is beyond me! Letters and the willingness to wait for an answer in a week or two or a month or two! Such patience!

Harold details the process of how his father bought homesteads near each other to build our family ranch. He shares about his family and beginning experience as a rancher. Take a step back in time and witness this family story unfold.

My mom and I created this chapbook for my dad’s 75th birthday. He dictated the stories to Mom and she wrote them down. Then I entered her handwritten notes into the computer. As we edited it, Dad stood behind me, looking at the computer screen, and directed me to “go back up on the screen or down.” He hated computers but loved directing me on what needed “fixed” on this document.

So almost thirty years later, I recorded this chapbook as my first audiobook, so you hear my dad’s words in my voice.

Links to Buy This Audiobook

Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Christmas Memoir

Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Christmas Memoir meme - June

Last year in September, I published my newest book, Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Christmas Memoir. Immediately, I worked on the audiobook to have it available for Christmas. What fun I had reading my own words to make this audiobook! In fact, I had a serendipity while reading—I realized this book was a Christian book. Then I realized that several of my books have a Christian vein in them.

Links to Buy This Audiobook

This Tumbleweed Landed

This Tumbleweed Landed Audiobook Cover NEW - June
New Cover

As we speak, I’m revising the audio on the Epilogue for This Tumbleweed Landed, so I only have a couple more sections to revise. Then I upload the files to two different sites: ACX and FindAwayVoices. I released this book in June 2014 but wrote it in 1992 while attending the Rio Grande Writing Project Workshop in Albuquerque, New Mexico. For all those years, I set it aside, yet it whispered to me often to return to it. It was after my mom died and I retired, that I brought it out again. I fell in love with it again and published it.

As I have recorded the poems and stories in this book, I revisited my childhood home, the zany characters I grew up with and my favorite places around Branson. What a treat to return!

It will be available on all major audiobook outlets sometime this week or next, so be looking for it.

I love books; also, I love audiobooks, and I love to record my own. I have my book, Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better? totally recorded, but only up to chapter seven revised. Shingles hit me and I didn’t finish this project, but I will.

What a better way to spend June’s glorious summer days than listening to your favorite audiobook with a cool drink in hand, lounging in the back yard!

Do you listen to audiobooks? Which one is your favorite? Have you bought one of mine? If not, now’s the time!


Enjoy my interview on the podcast, The Writing Table


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My Thoughts · Technology · Writing

How About Dictation? A Great Author’s Tool

Dictation on a computer

Dictation? Use it as an author’s tool? Last week, I found two treasures I wrote many years ago: a story and a poem. Dictation helped me quickly type up both. This is how dictation has changed over the years.

In 2002, I chaired the National Singles Square Dance Festival here in Albuquerque, New Mexico and had to type up over 600 registrants’ names, addresses, phone numbers and email addresses. I bought DragonSpeak, a dictation program, hoping so save my hands. The program had to learn your voice, so you had to practice a lot. It just didn’t live up to its promises, so I put it aside and hand-typed all that data.

Then in 2018-2019, I faced typing up 258,000 words transcribed from interviews with Marshall Flippo for his biography, and a tech friend suggested dictation using Microsoft Word, but I couldn’t make it work. So again, I typed it all up.

Since then, I have used the dictation tool on Google Docs, but last week, I returned to Microsoft Word and found its dictation tool to be greatly improved. The story below is 738 words, and I dictated it in about five minutes. The poem I found is 779 words and again, using the dictation tool, I finished it again in the same amount of time.

Grandma’s Yellow Bowl

Grandma's Yellow Bowl - dictation

It’s a large yellow bowl – a mixing bowl – yellow on the outside; white on the inside. Glass. Big enough to make bread in it!

            My grandmother’s been dead for five years (1988). I’ve had it in my kitchen since my aunt and mom sorted her belongings. Breakable glass – yet never broken. Memories live inside this container, this antique.

            Grandma was a simple woman, went to the fourth grade and stopped. The family needed her to help pick cotton; school was extravagant! But what a cook she was!

            Her cooking style was simple – fresh – no recipe, just a sense in her touch, the texture, the smell, etc. The bowl she owned, probably many years. Why didn’t it break? What stories could it tell?

            Transfixed I stared at the bowl on display at the flea market in Albuquerque, New Mexico.. The warm New Mexico Sun beat down on my head, yet I didn’t realize it. That’s just like grandma’s bowl – her favorite yellow bowl, and only $.50.

            “Just big enough for bread, Child!” She told me every time she took it out of the cupboard. With pride, she had sat it on the counter, touched the edge with her fingers delicately and smiled.

            “Lots of good meals in this bowl!“

            All this came crashing down on me as I stared at the bowl at the flea market.

            “Honey, honey, let’s go – or did you want that bowl? You’ve been staring at it for two minutes. What’s wrong?“ My husband asked as he tugged at my elbow.

            “No – no – I have one at home. Just like it.“ I said slowly coming out of my fog.

            “I’ve never seen it,” he answered.

            “I know. I put it away to save it. It was Grandma’s favorite,” I  say grabbing his arm and feeling a tremor go through me.

            The rest of the day of shopping, I thought of nothing else but that bowl. For some reason, I was anxious to get home and find it – hold it – touch it!

            When we pulled up into our driveway, I jumped out of the car before it stopped and sprinted to the door. My husband hollered something to me, asking if I was sick. Fumbling for my keys, I dropped them in the grass by the door. Searching for a second, I picked them up, found the door key and throw open the door.

            Tossing my fanny pack on the couch, I ran through the kitchen, where our answering machine blinked off and on, signaling a message. Who cares right now! I bolted down the ten steps to the basement, knowing exactly where it was, where to look. The dusty box sat on the shelf I had put it on several years ago. I had put it away so I wouldn’t break it. Carefully, I picked it up and carried it upstairs to the kitchen table.

            The box wasn’t too heavy, yet its possessions were some of my treasures. No, they weren’t worth much – you see the bowl was for sale at the flea market for $.50, yet it’s value to me was priceess.

            I grabbed a butcher knife and snapped the masking tape off the top. Crumbled newspaper bounced out of the box like popcorn. Carefully, I waded through my treasures – a serving crock bowl and lid from my great grandmother, and then my bowl – my yellow bowl.

            My husband joined me in the kitchen with a puzzled look on his face. I showed him the bowl and he still seemed confused.

            “Larada, what’s this about? What’s so important about this bowl?”

            “I made a promise to grandma before she died many years ago to myself to what this bowl stood for – cooking for my husband and family – and making sure that the meals I prepared in it would be prepared with love.“

            Tears ran down my cheeks. Our marriage had been slowly deteriorating. My career had taken me out of the house more frequently, and my husband had received my frustration in the form of angry words, snide remarks, and an undercurrent, taunt with stress and intention.

            As I looked at grandma’s bowl and held it close to my heart, I heard her words again, and realized that a lot of the recent problems in our marriage had been mine, not ours.

            “How about a homemade pie for dinner?“ I said to my husband as I wiped the tears for my cheeks, knowing somehow that bowl had changed me drastically that day.

            Only worth $.50 – who cares? To me it’s worth a million!   


Finally, today’s dictation tools excite me so much because I have lots of poems I’ve written but not typed up yet. I see this time-saving device as a lifesaver for sure.

Have you ever used the dictation tool in Microsoft Word? If so, how did it work?

PS – Ever since then, that yellow bowl has had a prominent place in my kitchen, and I use it regularly.


Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Christmas Memoir - dictation

~ Hair on Fire: A Heartwarming & Humorous Christmas Memoir available in audiobook format at the following places:

~SHOP TODAY FOR YOUR AUTOGRAPHED COPY! Shop at my Etsy Shop or my Shopify Store

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