(C) Copyright SNOWbear Productions. T h a n k Y o u F o r V i s i t i n g

The Coming New Year

We had a really good Christmas; our family gathered for a delicous meal, an evening of opening gifts, playing games and just being together. Made a few phone calls and planned some goals for the coming new year. One of which is to build a better relationship with my brother, Tracy.

As kids we were never close, and even as adults we are not that close. There's always room for improving our lives and why not work toward strengthening those bonds that should be closest to us.

FLOPPY The Snowman

Check out this Snowman; who waves at passerbys, gets drunk, and lands in jail - sad story!


Behind the smiles we put forth for others are the real thoughts of our changing hearts...


I have kind of been the family historian; asking questions, writing things down, and interested in genealogy, since I was old enough to read.
From my earliest childhood memories of visiting my father's parents, I fell in love with the idea of our family having a place in histroy. With each visit, Granny Snow would fret and fuss over the details of our sleeping arrangements, and making everyone comfortable. After all had settled down she would automatically head for the living room closet to recover a book which she would always hand me, with that endearing smile of hers. Within the pages of THE TEXAS SNOWS, I not only read my own name, but escaped into the discoveries of an almost forgotten time; stories heard only around my grandparent's kitchen table. Stories which came alive with even more depth. From then on I was hooked!
Even though those lives have passed away,
are worth remembering . . .

HEY! There's my house!


I'm not too hip with all the hipe placed on movies these days, but I don't think Peter Jackson's version of KING KONG has been hiped up enough! This past Tuesday night I watched the original 1933, and the '76 remake; seeing Jackson's out did the others beautifully. This makes going to the Movies an "Experience", again.

HINT:  I tell you what, if ya go upstairs, take a left and find a quiet space, you can really "plug" into a great book or two.


Photo ART

I love this site; an excelent resource for my artistic side.

NARNIA's Review

I absolutly love fantasy! Having just come back home from seeing a very good film, I was going to quickly write up a movie review on The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. But instead, I have decided to redirect you over to Taylor, in Moore, SC - who seems to have articulated it far better than I could... Taylor-

Great Storytelling

I wish I could write a story so enthralling, everyone would be spell bound. I like the kind of stories that not only have somthing to say - like parables, allegories, or metaphors, but those that start one place and end up in another; and it's gotta have a twist!

The First 911 Remembered

We are now in World War III. This time around nothing is well defind; the enemy is an elusive shadow seeping through our own opened boarders, complacancy abounds, and even the President seems questionable.
Welcome to "the future." We don't have the promised jet packs of Buck Rodgers, but at least we have Captain Kirk's communicator; no lasers, but the Wars are different...

Getting Colder

It's getting colder here in North Texas, and I'm a wimp about it. I could live in summer heat all year long; with a surname like "Snow" you'd think I would enjoy the winter - not really. The Mrs. on the other hand thrives in the change. burrrrr. Just letting the pups out to do their morning ritual as the wind slices through my face is enough winter for me.

I feel for the folks who have to deal with the Real Thing - with snow up to their necks, buried cars, and being home bound. Well, such is the Turning of the Wheel of seasons in order to get up back around to the joyou warmth of the bright summer daze! Least with winter festivals and bundling families the cold is more bearable.

- Just hate getting out in it. . .


Well who would have thought? For quiet a long time there Tehuti had tried to get me into blogging, but because I knew so little about it I felt incapable of pulling it off; yet I finally jumped into blogging, with misspellings and doubts. Well, a year later - after having faded once or twice - I'm still here.

After a year of blogging, having never really kept a journal, I find it a little interesting of the changes I've gone through and the Times as well. Learned more about photoshop, figured out some HTML codes, gotten a new Puppy, moved to a new apartment, a precious granddaughter, had a brother-in-law move in with us, started developing a Company...

Thank you readers for staying interested. Let's see where I am come Next year. . .

My new fixed Wallpaper

Photoshopped picture by Falconmyst

The Watchers

As the elders argued among themselves Calan's thoughts strayed. He wondered about the lives of those founding fathers, those ancient Watchers. Now, that he had finally been admitted into the Great Hall, Calan was able to see the detailed chamber in person. There, memorialized in their burial shrouds, as a relief of molded silver, the Watchers themselves decorated the walls. Their errier, silent likenesses commemorated the end of an erea - the passing of Nephilim immortality. But had they as individuals been befitting of such high honnors? Were they as righteous or wise as the stories told? Who could tell for sure, for they had all died years ago, and surely their deeds were exgsaerated?

As Calan listen to Barad drum up support for an army, he surrveyed the faces of those vain Stewards, in their embroided layers of robes, cords and bells; beautifully set in their bitter pious ways. He thought it strange how the light from the tripod lamps cast a creepy, orange glow across their faces, and how they resembled the morbid figures standing behind them. Then it came to him - the Stewards were nothing more than a reflextion of the Watchers own dead values.

How - just moments before he and Barad had interrupted their meeting - they would endlessly argue among themselves over the conjectures of past predictions, and make future speculations on the arrival of those who would never return. Calan thought it all sillyness, 'Wasting their lives in such foolish disputes; they're just as cold as the stone benches they sit on!' Yet, they would be a means to his end....

- The Nephilim Forbidden (in pictures)-

by D. DeLane Snow "Falconmyst"