Listen—The Joy of Audiobooks!

June 9, 2024January 4, 2025 Larada Horner-Miller1 Comment

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!

The Sting of the Rind

“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

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, T he Writing Table

family · Friends · My Thoughts · square dance

Stop! Let’s Celebrate My 70 Years!

July 2, 2023January 4, 2025 Larada Horner-MillerLeave a comment

Stop! This week, on June 27, 2023, I celebrated my 70^th birthday, and I have interrupted my Scotland trip-focus with a celebration of me!

A Poem I Wrote About My Birth

In my book, This Tumbleweed Landed, I wrote a poem about my birth story. I don’t know about you, but I heard this story often, and it naturally became a poem. Key phrases throughout the poem I heard from my parents frequently and swelled with pride. The repeating of my birth story cemented in my soul and spirit how much my parents wanted and celebrated me. Enjoy!

Larada Reading Her Poem, “I Was Born Dancing”

A Ring to Celebrate My Heritage and Me

Last week, I went to Branson, Colorado to visit our family ranch, my brother and friends. On Tuesday, my brother walked into my house, moved to the breakfast bar and handed me a small unwrapped box, saying, “This is your birthday present from me and my kids.” That’s the way he does his gifts—no wrapping, but a lot of thought and love put into the gift.

I gasped—it was a ring with reversible stones. On one side was my dad’s brand and on the other was my granddad’s brand! But in my fuzzy stupor from the pain pills I’m on, I thought it was a slide for a necklace.

Fast forward to Thursday, we went to the Walmart in Trinidad and then had lunch to celebrate my upcoming birthday. While in Walmart I looked at silver necklaces for the slide.

After shopping, I said to my brother while eating, “I looked at necklaces for the slide you all gave me at Walmart, but I found nothing. I’ll go to a jewelry store in Albuquerque and buy one.”

Not looking at me, he stated, “It’s a ring, not a slide. Remember, I asked you if you wanted to try it on when I gave it to you!”

Again, I gasped! I apologized and asked him about how crazy I must have seemed to him!

More to This Ring Story!

How foolish am I! In March, my brother and I had looked at Calvin Begay’s jewelry in Trinidad, and he had reversible rings like this. I have been a Calvin Begay fan for years! I have one of his rings, and we just finished buying three beautiful expensive pieces from Calvin! It all made sense now.

He added, “It is from me and my three kids. They helped pay for it!”

Quickly, I texted my nephew and two nieces and apologized for the delay in my thanking them and told them the story. They got a big laugh out of it, and Cheryl added, “Lol! Now it will always make you smile for sure!”

Seventy, yes, but this brain fog came from the pain medicine, I know. So, I went to my house in Branson and put the gorgeous ring on and marveled at the fit—like Calvin Begay made for me! LOL! He did!

My brother and niece had texted me early in June with a bet between them on whether her ring finger was bigger or smaller than mine. I thought nothing about it! When I texted my apology, she added, “The story about our ring size being the same was a fake!”

My Delightful Day

After returning home to Tijeras on Monday, I woke up to my husband, Lin, singing happy birthday to me. Then he presented me with a beautiful bouquet, card and a generous gift to help finance my part of our trip to Germany in September.

I had a delightful morning. I led a meditation group on Facebook Live I love and shared my poem about my birth and a Mary Oliver poem about being 70.

Self-Portrait

I wish I was twenty and in love with live

            And still full of beans.


Onward, old legs!

There are the long, pale dunes; on the other side

The roses are blooming and finding their labor

No adversity to the spirit.


Upward, old legs! There are the roses, and there is the sea.

Shining like a song, like a body

I want to touch


Though I’m not twenty 

and won’t be again but ah! seventy. And still

In love with life. And still

Full of beans.

Mary Oliver, Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver, (2017): 117.

Then I attended a weekly book coaching session on Zoom. Afterwards, Lin took me out to lunch and we had delicious Mexican food in Cedar Crest at Mariachi’s. After lunch, we went next door to the Paris Bakery, and he bought French pastries for dessert.

When we got home, we ate those delicacies, watched a TV show, and I fell asleep—a deep relaxed sleep like I haven’t in a long time.

A Surprise Square Dance Party

Lin had warned me a couple time not to look in the Tahoe—I figured it was more birthday stuff. He also told me he had a hearing aid appointment at 4:30 PM, so we’d have to drive separately to the square dance that night in Albuquerque.

He left while I was sleeping and I slept for over two hours, forcing myself to wake up and get something to eat before the dance.

When I got to the hall about 6:50 PM, Lin met me at the door and I knew something was up. Then I saw a “Happy Birthday” banner over the door. He guided me through the door, and the people said, “Surprise! Happy Birthday!”

Shocked with my mouth open, I realized what this was—a surprise square dance party for me! I received hug after hug and lots of well wishes.

Lin’s smile and twinkling eyes made me laugh—he was proud of himself for getting me—for surprising me! I couldn’t stop smiling.

Lin’s color selection for the tables had sweet, poignant reasons—purple for my mom (her favorite color) and purple for our wedding.

He guided me to the food table to show me a beautiful Pastian’s bakery cake. It had on it, “Happy Birthday Larada, Greg and Lynn.” Greg and Lynn Tillery—a square dance caller in Albuquerque and his wife also turned 70 this year! Lin explained he had invited them to, but he had to tell Greg about the surprise. But Lynn didn’t know.

When they arrived and received greetings from the group, Lynn said, “It’s not my birthday!” So my Lin explained it to her about the surprise for her.

But the surprises weren’t over for me! Someone tapped me on the shoulder and it was Bob Osse, Lin’s best friend, from Arizona. He had his wife on FaceTime to share her greetings. She wanted to join us but had a family tragedy during the week and was attending to that.

Gordon, Gloria, Larada, Lin and Sandra - Friends from Utah! Stop — Gordon, Gloria, Larada, Lin and Sandra – Friends from Utah!

Then dear friends Gloria Schwab and Sandra and Gordon from Utah came in. On their way home from the National Square Dance Convention, they contacted Jerry Gilbreath about a Tuesday night dance. He told them about the surprise party! Whew!

During a break between square dance tips, Jerry sang the George Strait song Lin had played to me at our wedding, “I Cross My Heart.” So we got to do a little two-stepping!

Here’s a funny part—I handle contracts for dances at the dance hall. Jerry usually calls on the first and third Tuesdays, but about a month ago he called and asked if he could add a dance on the last Tuesday, June 27, my birthday. Because it was open, I said yes and thought, “Yahoo! We will get to square dance on my birthday!” Little did I know. . .

So, let’s stop here. I’d like to end with some haikus I wrote on my 70^th birthday and the wisdom.

Seventy is here.

Yesterday sixty-nine, so?

Does one day change me?

Did I change in my

sleep? A decade older now.

I’m still Larada.

How should I act now?

Does seventy deem me old?

The same and hell, no!

I can’t hold on to

My youth, but I can stay young!

It’s my choice, so YES!

So stop! I will get back to the end of our trip to Scotland next week, but I couldn’t pass this celebration up!

How do you see someone at seventy? Is that old? Do you have a birthday story? Share it with me!

News, News, News!

Listen to my twenty-three minute interview on Masterfesto Media Podcast with Isabel Elias about my book Coronavirus Reflections: Bitter or Better?: https://open.spotify.com/episode/6uRX60sDFWbejTg7rZAiLn

Just Another Square Dance Caller: Authorized Biography of Marshall Flippo — Grab your iPhone and lounge on the beach with Flippo!

Get your free 50-minute audio recording of Flippo! Click here for easy access!

My Books · My Thoughts · poetry · Ranching

Would You Like to Taste One of My Books?

January 19, 2020January 19, 2020 Larada Horner-MillerLeave a comment

Taste one of my books, sample it, savor it! Here’s samples from three of my books. Enjoy!

Excerpt from This Tumbleweed Landed

“She Was Born Dancing!”

 On June 26, 1953, my folks left
 their thirteen-month-old son with Millie,
 the family babysitter,
 to go to a square dance in Trinidad,
 fifty miles away.
  
 Mom danced one tip that night—
 She was nine months pregnant
 with me.
 They left the dance early
 feeling something was about to happen.
  
 Early the next morning
 Mom had labor pains
 that made her stagger across the floor.
 It was time!
  
 The fifty-mile trip back to Trinidad
 and the hospital
 was made in record time.
  
 At 10:30 a.m. I was born.
  
 Dad went downtown
 to buy celebratory cigars
 and ran into a fellow dancer
 from the previous night.
  
 Dad announced his good news—
 a new baby girl!
  
 Remembering Mom at the dance
 the night before,
 the only comment the stunned friend
 had to make was,
 “She was born dancing!”

Excerpt from When Will Papa Get Home?

Chapter 8

Halfway through our delicious, but modest meal, the much-feared event happens. Horses approach our house in a rush of noise from men and animals. The dreaded moment arrives and catches us all clustered together in the dark corner of our small kitchen. Three unfinished meals cover our deserted table.

Several loud men on nondescript sweaty, panting horses ride up with shouting and cussing. A brisk pounding at the door sends us further in the corner. Before Papa can open the door, this mob forces the door open. What a violent invasion of our home! Six gringos fill our small, modest house of stone and adobe with their foreign language and foreign smells. One of these invaders is the sheriff of Las Animas County.

Peering from behind Mama’s protective full skirt, I see the sheriff, now our enemy, argue with Papa in English. Papa pleads. I don’t understand the words, but I do understand the tone of his voice and theirs. Grabbing the sheriff’s hand, he begs, pleads, and cries! And then, they laugh, a communication that crosses all languages. Their laughter overflows with power, ridicule and anger. And all this is aimed at my Papa, my hero! That laughter bounces off of our adobe walls and crashes into my head.

The sheriff and one man get on each side of Papa and push him outside towards the corrals. The others move back to their horses, light cigarettes and stand talking. Mama and I move closer to the closed door, listening and trying to understand what is happening. I don’t understand their words but I know they feel they have won.

In a loud voice, Papa continues to argue with the two men who take him to the corral where the horses are. I hear English words that I do know: “The Rose horse ranch” where we bought Smokey as a colt. From the conversation, I see in my mind the two gringos surveying our two horses, especially Papa’s horse. Papa continues his litany of innocence with his voice growing louder and shriller with each statement, but they ignore him. Laughter is their only response.

I hear Papa beg about something. The two ruffians bring him back to the house for our tearful good-bye. The last thing I remember hearing is his screams as they drag him from our house. “Mi hijita, mi esposa preciosa–esperame, esperame!” His screams for us to wait for him echo through my mind. I must have fainted because the next thing I remember is waking to Mama and our neighbor and friend, Pablo, standing over me with worried looks on their faces.

“Where’s Papa? Where’s Papa? ¿Dónde está mi Papa?” I scream, demanding to know and trying to shake the cobwebs of uncertainty from my mind.

Mama falls across me on my small bed, crying and sobbing out of control, “Papa, se ha ido! Papa’s gone! He’s gone. Se lo llevaron. They took him away.” The weight of her body and sound of her wails almost suffocate me.

Pushing Mama aside, I scramble out from underneath her, search our two-room home and explode. Uncontrollable anger rages from deep within me and I attack and destroy anything I can get my hands on. My doll crashes against the hard rock wall; my marbles fly out the door in all directions.

Mama tries to console me in the midst of my savage tantrum, but I push her away. I shove open the front door and collapse on the front step. I scream, I cry, and I wail! Finally, I take a breath and open my eyes—Paco is staring at me a few feet away. He seems apprehensive about coming any closer. My tantrum has lost its power, so my little friend ventures near and I scoop him up in my skirt. I gingerly hold him in my hand while my sobs are subsiding. He seems to know that I need him close to me. I sit there with him consoling me.

I look around and see my marbles strewn around our front door; I don’t pick them up, but go inside, leaving Paco outside. Mama and Pablo stop their conversation, and I slide into my bed fully dressed. Pablo touches my brow with gentle rough fingers and whispers, “Adios. Hasta la mañana.” I appreciate his good-bye and the hope of seeing him tomorrow. Mama walks to the door with him and says her good-byes.

She returns to my bed and repeats what Pablo did; she touches my brow with her long slender fingers and whispers, “Buenas noches.” I sigh my response and turn to the wall, heart-broken because the most valuable person in my life has been taken away.

Excerpt from A Time to Grow Up: A Daughter’s Grief Memoir

I Want you Back! Or Do I?

January 27, 2014

I stand at that mysterious wall
 between life and eternity
                      and scream,
 "I want you back!"
  
 I pound my fists.
 I scream!
 I cry,
 but nothing changes.
  
 You slipped
 through my finger tips.
 I grasped.
 You were here one second
 and
 gone the next!
  
 Nothing I could do
 would hold you.
 Where are you now?
 Sitting next to Jesus and Dad—
               smiling
               youthful
               relaxed
               happy!
  
 I hope so!
  
 I am earth bound—
 held in place
   by time and
               my human existence!
  
 I now know more,
 realize there's more.
 There has to be!
  
 A small peephole
 opened into eternity
               at your death bed.
 Surprisingly, a small kernel of hope was born that day for me.
  
 Life ended here for you
 so quickly!
 Your shell of a body
 lay limp and lifeless
 in that hospital bed.
 I saw your last breath,
 but I also saw something else
               slight
               faint
  
 Relief for you!
 A passing
 A knowing
               that you are gone
                           from here,
               but will wait for me
                           there.
  
 In my solemn, desolate space,
 I will still cry,
 "I want you back!"
  
 But today I know
 that
 I don't want you back—
 I want to join you
               there!

Maybe one of these samples makes you want more. Visit my website at: https://laradasbooks.com

~ Visit my Etsy Shop, Larada’s Reading Loft, for digital or paper copies of all my books: https://www.etsy.com/shop/LaradasReadingLoft

	Larada Horner-Miller on Let’s Celebrate Poetry: April…
	Krishna Chamling on Let’s Celebrate Poetry: April…
	Larada Horner-Miller on Bird Watching in Panama
	Lisa on Bird Watching in Panama
	Larada Horner-Miller on My Super-Busy January—Glad It’…

Tag: This Tumbleweed Landed