Gentle on the ginger, dear

Smoothies, celery, and other confessions

Gentle on the ginger, dear!”

This past weekend was a full one. It began with a nice out to eat experience. One that we had not done in a long time. Just us. Then we had a visit to an “old” friend, don’t mind my calling her old. She’s well aware. The following morning however, my dear husband offered to make me a smoothie. It was all fine until the ginger. Then we spent the day at an art fair. The week since seems like a blur.

About that smoothie… A shake or two of ginger in the smoothie is great to jump start the digestive system. But when the jolt of flavor reminded me that maybe there was a horse radish instead of a ginger root! – oh, boy! “Gentle on the ginger, dear” became the phrase for the rest of the meals this past week.. Food that has taste is great, but too much spice can give it a bite.

Once upon a headache ago, my massive migraine left me unable to focus on anything in print. So, I relied on my six year old daughter to tell me the recipe for the meatball spices. She however, not familiar with teaspoon or tablespoon markings or for that matter fractions, read the 1/4 teaspoons as one scoop of four tablespoons of PEPPER! We had to eat at the drive-inn that night. The meatballs were not even fit for the dog. What a funny memory.

After the whirlwind…

Our daughter came through at eight in the morning on a Saturday. It felt like a whirlwind hit us. On her way to a wedding, we jumped out of our Saturday lazy-mode to get up and serve her morning rush supplications. The smoothie in the middle of all the giddy-up, made it quite memorable!

There was not dust in my eyes after she left Saturday morning. Sure should have been. Then on Sunday after her talk at church, the wet dew in my eyes. Said moisture would not let me read my music during the service. The whirlwind of emotions that filled my heart took much time to settle down. The feeling that I need something to hang on to while the wind rushes by has occurred to me several times. I had a strong sensation that this “wind” would probably continue for the next two months of preparation for her leaving to missions internship. Praise the Lord that I have Him and that her reason for going is His plan.

Checkout confessions of children

Last Saturday’s plans were made to go visit my niece and nephews to the north. We attempted to speed through the morning chores that had been delayed an hour or so. We all enjoyed our time at the art fair as much as could be expected with the heat. The three little kids did great in spite of the frequent disappointments to not buy stuff. Later in the day, we enjoyed a child’s “checkout confession” to the cashier at Wally-world. On the belt were a variety of candies, items for a meal and some napkins. The little girl begins to tell the cashier that the candy is for her daddy. “He eats a lot of candy!” She announces for the the surrounding audience. Who really cares if the candy is for them or for someone else. It was obvious that the child had learned the shame and blame game quite well. We could barely stifle our snickers!

Rewind the clock…

Visiting with our neighbor to the south led me to thinking about her picture window. To begin with shortly after her husband passed, the hail came through and took care of her roof and her large picture window. It took quite a time to get the replacement in, ordering it, getting the lumber company and the insurance company to agree. There were affidavits of “truth” and proof of hail damage to apply for proper placement. It was a rig-a-more-al that left her wondering what in the world she was doing living in such a large house.

It is not the actual window that I thought of after our visit, but the window to her world. Rewinding the clock is something that happens quite frequently when we are together. The time just flies so fast when she tells her stories of their early life. The past, present and future that keeps her going day after day. She looked incredibly weak and frail after her loss. But now nearly two years later, she looks strong and amazing.

The Widow’s Window

A look at the present

A view to the past

A glimpse at the future

Of a hope that will last

The widow’s window

Is a world gone too fast.

-written July 13, 2018 by Yvonne Annette Clark (myself)

Old sayings and old people are some of my favorite things. One of my favorites from childhood was this silence breaker…

A penny for your thoughts…

I never really knew where it came from. And I never seemed to have a penny when the silence stretched on so long. Being around my daughter and her husband more recently brought this old gem of a saying to mind. His silence reminds me of the proverbs about the wise holding their tongue. People of much silence, have more wisdom locked up their hearts than the fools that have waggin’ tongues. Perhaps a penny is not enough for my son-in-laws thoughts!

Go FIG-urge

The figs are finally putting on some plumpness. It’s hard to understand the patience factor in a tree that holds onto it’s fruit for so long. Taking up to three months to ripen, the little trees are delicate. But ours is quite do for a trim job. The little one is now taller that the bigger tree. A fall trim job will take care of that. It is trying to escape the dome-home, I think.

Getting ready to get ready- no try options

While the weekend seemed to fly by and there are many little anecdotes that stick in my brain, the idea that one cannot “try” has been the stickiest. We cannot try to visit the widows or the orphans. We cannot try to be anything. We either are or we are not. This consideration came to me, while sharing some figs with my brother’s family. I also brought the fig newton bar cookies to share. Explaining that the kids had to “try” a real fig first was difficult. Finally, I said “taste” the real one and then you can have a cookie. My mother would not even look at the figs. Her example left a “bad taste” on the kids. But after their parents each ate one, then they gave it a go. Go FIG-ure!

Top of the mourning to ya’…

The bottom this celery stalk was cut off nearly two weeks ago. I keep them in a glass right next to the kitchen sink to root out and grow. Being patient is my new theme in gardening. So while I am writing for the roots to sprout before I take this out to the greenhouse, having it next to the sink assures me that I can keep the water at about an inch deep.

So while we were shopping the other day… Mourning the loss of my kitten friend, my husband bought me another turtle for the greenhouse. It’s fake. And no it doesn’t pet well. In fact the fish in the pond can’t be petted either. But perhaps I learned my lesson about getting attached to a cat.

We saw the garden turn into abundance before the crop begins to give. We saw a widow in her world of sorrow giving away her love and stories until we were too tired to stay awake any longer. We saw things at the art festival that seemed like just junk. We saw people enjoying themselves and others. We heard much that could be repeated in laughter and joy. But what I hope is that while our window of the world might be different or similar to others, we are not so stained by our own view that we cannot glimpse the world through someone els’s window.

James 1:27 “Religion that is pure and faultless before our Father God is one that visits widows and orphans in their affliction and keeps oneself unstained from the world.”

As my daughter gets ready to go on to her missions internship this fall, there seems to be a lot of “getting ready to get ready” in our lives. There are so many different ideas of “missions” work out there. While the world sees charity as “giving” of funds, true charity gives of self also. This view, this glimpse, this hope is fare more enduring than the simple things of this world that I live in. Yet it is this world that teaches me each and every day more about my Father God.

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