Okies stand proud

The terror fell from the sky
On that cloudy Oklahoma day
In its fierceness and velocity
it blew a town away

People lost everything they owned
Some even  lost their life
The sadness hurt and despair
Cuts just like a knife

Out of the darkness comes a light
For the whole world to  see
Us okies won’t be beaten
That could never be

Strangers helping strangers
Reaching out a hand
This is how it’s done
Here in okie land

We stand beside the parents
Whose children were sadly  lost
We help rebuild our state
No matter what the cost

We remember the men and women
May they now  lay in rest
And we thank the first responders
That tried their very best

Strangers become friends
As together we unite
As we all turn our faces
To welcome in the light

It will take weeks months
even a lot of  years
A thousand prayers and hopes
And a million heartfelt   tears

But if anyone can do it
It’s us okies to be sure,
Now let’s get to rebuilding
A paradise we call Moore

By christabelle reynolds

Who will fill there shoes

I’m a country music fan. I listen too everything from Ernest tubb to Chris young.

Sitting hear today listening to mainstream radio I can’t help but wonder what the fk happened and how we let it.

As a country fan every single and album I buy as soon as it comes out. I’m genuinely excited to see what’s in store. I wait patiently for that moment that the song will hit me in the heart like they use too. I guess I’ll have to keep waiting.

The watered down country on mainstream radio just doesn’t do it. As I hear another party song. Another song about Mexico and drinking.

I got excited when I heard Blake was bringing out a new single. Boys round here. I lost my excitement as soon as I heard it. Same happened with Chris Youngs aw naw.

I’m not having a go at Chris or Blake. I have an issue with what’s playable on radio. In fact Chris is one of my favorite singers vocally.

Truth is if Chris released a song that was pure country it most likely wouldn’t get the airplay.

So is it just radios fault for the watered down country we’ve now been given. Not entirely it’s all si the major labels that sign these great musicians and songwriters. That to me is when the music takes a decline as it needs to be sold to the masses. It needs to be playable on radio. It needs to appeal to the wider market.  songs about drink driving and being homeless don’t appeal to the party crowd. It’s deemed to heavy for radio.

I’ve seen this happen to some of my favorite singers, Keith Anderson with his first album was amazing I went out bought it and enjoyed it.
His second album was more honest more grown up and had more meaning. His record label dropped him. He wasn’t conforming to what is now mainstream country.

Each time I hear one of my favorite artists have been signed to a major label I cringe. Then watch the transition begin

If mainstream radio has been reduced to this watered down version aw naw I wont  be listening.

George Jones who will feel their shoes? No one can because of what manufactured country has now become.

So who am I to have given my opinion? I’m a country fan nothing more nothing less.

By christabelle reynolds

Dear foster parent

I thought I would write this because I’ve been asked a few times by people who are, or who are planning to become foster parents, so I offer some tips. I can only go by my own experience. As a kid in foster care I know what I wish mine had been like.

1,take it slow. For me there was nothing worse then going to a new home and being hugged cuddled and told I’m loved. (this might work with young kids) I use to be extremely uncomfortable when this would happen . I felt like I was the new puppy in the house. Where all attention was on me.

2,dont fake smiles. It was always creepy when a new foster parent would always be smiling. Be real

3,dont ask about our life story, you were told by social services or the fostering agency. Don’t push to find out more. When we feel ready we will talk

4,if we’re mean and break the rules we’re usually testing you. I use to put all my foster parents through this to see which ones would give up. Most did. Be different while also letting us know it’s not acceptable let us know that you won’t give up on us.

5,be clear on the rules and the consequences if they get broken. I was always confused because at each home there would be different rules and consequences. At one house it was okay to watch TV whenever you wanted, at another TV was off limits till after supper.
These small differences were huge to get over. If the kid genuinely forgets the new rule give a reminder before a consequence

6,be fair, if you have children already that are biologically yours don’t always choose sides if a fight erupts. We notice how much you do. Trust me your kids can also be in the wrong. While I would start some fights. Some were started by kids that lived in the house already. I would get the blame and It made me feel like I didn’t belong

7,dont be hard on yourself. If it’s taking longer then you thought to get through to a troubled teen. Don’t worry to much as long as you haven’t given up then you will get there.

8,dont set them up to fail. If you know this kid has been in trouble for stealing don’t leave money lying around. As a teen I would find money lying around and take it. It wasn’t about stealing I was still in survival mode. I figured if it was just lying there no one would miss it.

9,give praise often without sounding like it’s false. If the kid is good at something tell them they are. If they behaved well for a few hours let them know you noticed. Simple things like making their bed. Give them praise for. For most kids in foster care haven’t heard how good they are. They have usually heard the opposite. You have a chance to change a life by changing how a child feels about themselves. Use it

10,be yourself. Don’t come the heavy and don’t come on soft. Just be you. Trust me we notice. When we do come to you. And ask advice don’t make everything a lecture. Give your advice and drop it.

By christabelle reynolds

I’m a freekin ninja

I do have times I laugh at my pure spirit and sassiness. Like the day mike took me to school
There was a small grocery store right near the school mike would drop me off there and walk home.
I being hungry would eat my food on the way to school. When it was time for recess I wouldn’t have anything. I had to change up my plan. I would walk back to the store. Wait for the lady on the checkout to be busy run in and grab a donut and run back to school. This plan worked till I got banned for stealing.
My other plans were just as intense. Mike had locked my door my bedroom was at the front of the house. I climbed out my Window walked around to the back door (always was unlocked)  and got to the kitchen . I had a feast. Then went out the backdoor and back in my Window. This worked till I got caught and my Window got superglued shut. So people couldn’t look in my room. My Window was covered up.

I remember once getting food out of the fridge I turned around saw mom watching and I just bobbed down. Like somehow she no longer could see me.
My mom sometimes would give me food.
This food war lasted for years. It bought out the genius in me as I had to come up with new ways to win the war.

I look back and smile at the fact I never gave up. I was like a red power ranger on speed. Whatever mike thought up I would out think him.
One night he had gotten really drunk I ran out onto the porch and jumped down he came out and went to chase me he fell and I giggled. Then I ran.

One day I decided to run away I walked out the front door mom chasing behind. I was running with all the determination I had. I got 2 blocks away. Mom couldn’t catch me so she sent the neighborhood kids after me. I thought this was funny I now knew I could outrun mom and mike.
I thought I was a ninja.
When I was told I couldn’t have a pet I adopted a roach.
I painted him with pink nail varnish and kept him in a matchbox.
For every no they told me was just a maybe or a yes to me. I went out of my way to fight mike and I’m glad I did. If I didn’t I prolly would be dead. One of the many statistics that didn’t make it. I still have that fight and spirit in me.
If someone tells me something can’t be done I make sure I do it.
If I’m told not to do something I do it more. I still push a boundaries put on me. At work I work damn hard but I’m also the troublemaker with the practical jokes. When I first came here the guys were worried the work would be to hard. I proved them wrong. I work as hard if not harder then most of them. Because I have something to prove

By christabelle reynolds

Mind games

I’m in the stable. I come here to think. I come here to show emotions that I don’t show normally. In this spot I can usually find a peace of mind. It’s not working this time. I have these moments where it feels like everything has rushed back to hit me all at once. I want a drink I want to be high I want to forget. I know I won’t do none of those things. So instead I’m writing. Memories are flashing one after another. I hate feeling like this I hate caring.
I keep going over my childhood trying to make sense of the senseless. Not understanding if I was the cause of it all. I know I wasn’t the perfect kid. Why couldn’t I let mike win the power struggle it would of meant less pain for me. It would of been easier on us all if I had just followed his rules. So many mind games were played between him and me. One that still haunts me is I was always well behaved at school I loved the teachers. When I got home mike would say “why can’t you be a brat at school like  you are here”
He said this for months till I finally went to school and acted out. I threw pencils at the teacher I knocked over chairs. It was the first time I got in trouble at school. I felt torn I liked my teachers but I wanted to make mike not so mad at me. The school called mike to pick me up. When we got in the car I proudly told him I was bad. He said I know you were. When we got home he started pinching the skin on my back. He was mad because I was naughty at school and he had to pick me up. I couldn’t win.
He would call the school and tell them about my behavior. How I stole and how I cussed him out. How I didn’t sleep. How I would soil in my room. Looking back like this I see I didn’t have control like I thought. I soiled in my room because I was locked in there. I stole food because I was hungry. I cussed at mike because he cussed at me.
I once pulled a butter knife on mike. In my head I was going to stab him. Make him hurt. When I pulled it out he started laughing and said do it. I was 6 I think. I tried but I knew he was stronger then me. I still hear his voice most days telling me how bad I am how selfish and how disgusting I am. I try not to listen but it gets hard. I try instead to remember I’m here at the ranch amongst some of the best people I’ll ever meet and none of them hate me.
I know I’m socially awkward I’ll say things that I shouldn’t or in a room of people I’ll be the one at the back trying to dissappear. I don’t know how to trust people or interact unless it’s on my terms. If someone tries to become my friend I push them away. I don’t want to do this anymore I don’t want to be me anymore I want to be the girl that has friends that can fit in that can love and open my heart. I just don’t know how to get there.

By christabelle reynolds

Lightening strikes again

Some people don’t like
what I have to say
They have that right
But im going to say it anyway

There’s tears blood and violence
On my TV screen.
Crying trembling shaking
Some of the worst I’ve ever seen.

We all stand united
We care for Boston together tonight
We all feel angry
and we’re all looking for a fight

America is a great place
When tragedy strikes our shores
But I can’t help thinking
I’m wishing there was more

In a month it will be forgotten
When Lightening strikes  once more
Another tragedy
Will shake us to our core.

Why can’t we care like this
Maybe all the time
Why can’t we stand united
In peaceful times we find

If I was god I’d turn my back
I wouldn’t give us the time of day
When something bad happens
That’s the times we pray

Tonight I pray for boston
My hearts shattered on the floor
I’ll also keep on hoping
This won’t happen anymore

By christabelle reynolds

Hey america are you listening

Hey america can you hear me
Please listen to my plea
Help me reach my full potential
Let me be who I can be

Tonight I cried in my room
All Alone and afraid
But all you care about is lohan
And all the mess she’s made

My mom and dad don’t care
That’s so plain to see
But I’m asking you america
Won’t you care for me.

I go to school with bruises
Hungry and so sad
Won’t you save me america
From being hurt so bad

America if you can
Send rockets to the moon
Why can’t you protect me
From dying way to soon

You always seem so busy
With things that dont matter to me
Like Kim kardashians diet
And who’s dating who on glee

So tonight I go to bed hungry
alone and afraid again
Won’t you help me please america
Won’t you make this end

By christabelle reynolds


I still struggle with addiction. I could pretend that I don’t and make out I’m a hero but I do. There’s times I wish I was high that I wish I could drink myself into a better place. The first time I got high I was 13 I was in a foster home one of them were 16 and offered me to try. I remember thinking everything was funny I couldn’t stop laughing. I was invincible. Soon I took pills mixed them with alcohol. It made me numb. It made me feel good.
At 16 I was taking whatever I could get. I would still stuff just to sell for money. I moved from foster home to foster home I didn’t care who I stole from. All I cared was if and when I could get high. It was my way of escaping. I would tell myself I was cool. I would tell myself that my stealing wasn’t hurting anyone that I deserved the stuff I took. For awhile this worked. This was my life. I was going to make society pay for my pain. When i decided to stop it was the hardest thing I had ever done. I slipped up a lot. I’ve been clean now for nearly 3 years.
There’s times when I still want that high I want to feel numb. Then I think about how far I’ve come and how many people I would let down. I write now when I have that urge to swallow pills or hit the bottle. Sometimes on this here blog or sometimes just for myself. I know addiction is hard I know that staying addicted is harder

By christabelle reynolds

Country music fan

It started when I was little
My fascination begun
A man named his kid sue
And he only had a son.

Kristofferson sang about
Meeting devils the pilgrim
And billy dee
I don’t know what it was
But the songs all got to me

I use to listen quietly
To scared to make a peep
In case I missed a message
They were trying hard to speak

Now I’m a little older
Country music’s still right here
Just newer songs are playing
Like save water… drink beer

The songs have changed
In sound just a little bit
From songs by Marty robbins
Bout big irons on his hips

But even with the changes
They hit me just the same
From Garths the dance
To victims of the game.

I don’t prefer the old ones
More then the new ones anymore
The old ones are I believe
Are what opened Up the door

Now we have aldean, Bryan,
And Tim McGraw
They remind us always
what our hearts are for

No matter how it changes
There’s room enough for all
From Charlie prides kawliga
To kennons song the call.

Jerrod freed the music
And opened up our mind
Then with a song like old school
We remembered what’s behind

There’s songs now
in my memory
My own soundtrack in my head
I usually hum them late at night
While I’m lying in my bed

So thank you for the music
It means a lot to me
I’m a country music fan
And I’m really proud to be

By christabelle reynolds

Hey Ellen

Hey Ellen I watch your show
Almost all the time
And all I’m asking in return Is
To read my little rhyme

There’s a man I need to tell you about
His fans they already know
He really deserves to be
On the Ellen DeGeneres show.

He sings country music
With a twist and some rap
Just listen to it once
While your toes begin to tap

You really will love him
As his fans we already do
Now we really  wanna help him
And get him next to you.

Just go and buy his album
And you never will be bored
Here’s a little secret
The man’s name is COLT FORD

By christabelle reynolds