Tag: distractions

Winter games project

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Watching television and doing nothing with my hands is foreign to me. Most of my silent time is spent using my hands. I just have a fidget need. Who sits still and does nothing?

Winter Olympics are fun to watch. whether we find motivation to get more fit, enjoy more outdoor activities, or simply do something we love to do. For me it is the later. So I found a project to crochet while “watching” the olympics. Haha.

The best stories are the trials to overcome. Hearing about the single mom that has two deaf little boys and still won a gold medal in some event reminds me that everyone has a story to tell. Overcoming adversity is what makes us unique yet relatable.

After I found a video a couple weeks ago about the ”whole” person discovering our individual purpose, reflecting on our one little wave in the whole ocean of humanity seemed daunting. So I grabbed my yarn and put together a color scheme to crochet something.

Crochet color schemes based on paint color room decorating is my new thought process. I picked two colors looked up a color palette and matched the yarn to them. Wow! I’m so happy with the outcome. It gives me a new lease on crochet projects. Of course, still not sure what to do with this collection of items made.

Two weeks time is all that it took to finish the latest shawl. Some would probably say, “it’s not big enough to wrap up in” so why bother? Sometimes it’s more about the look of the finished item. Of course the feeling of mosaic crochet items is warmth and comfort, also! But I really did not expect to be done in just two weeks.

2026 Winter Olympics crochet shawl approximately 2 foot by 5 foot

What’s next? That’s always the problem. Just like the Olympian who completes their goal, what is the next goal. Ecclesiastes tells us the joy of doing is a good goal in itself. Enjoying the fruits of our labor, like this moment of just sitting under the really pretty wrap while catching up on the happennings for my online journal.

The past two weeks were a bit of a blur really. My daughter’s kidney stone reared it’s ugly head and we had the kids for a full week. Thank goodness their daddy could take care of the baby for most of the week of her recovery period. Nonetheless, the month still seems to be a blur of activity. The first two weeks were so nice outside, and then the last two weeks bitter cold. Winter games on the television did add an element of distraction to the difficulties of the month.

Empty baskets are meant to be filled. My sister dealing with blindness and trying to fill the time gives me more to be thankful for my own ability to do something with my hands. Even when my eyesight was not cooperating with me for church piano playing this past Sunday, I was thankful that my ability has risen to the challenge. God enables in a way that seems unbelievable.

The barren winter landscape in our area does not have to be the focus of dull drum winter. Other parts of the country are under blankets of snow, and I sit under a crochet wrap that is both distractingly pretty and not so heavy it requires hours of shoveling to get out from under the piles of snow… I am glad for my crochet time “killer.” I am glad that I can listen to books while I do so.

The book that distracted me from the brown dead grassy yard this past week was an “Ellie Haskins Mystery.” I was thinking about “Wuthering Heights” and my hubby got me “Withering Heights.” The first is an old classic literature work and the later is a recent mystery novel. Oh, well. I did not mind it so much. wondering what happens next is a little better that than trying to figure out what color palette will fill my basket next!

The Crazy Crochet Cat Lady pattern above is from the Wild Things collection. I really wanted to do a better version than I completed last year with it’s scraps and pieces. I used a smaller hook this time and the completed item is about six inches smaller in both length and width. I imagine that there will be a border on it soon.

Being physically challenged by my eyesight can sometimes be limiting. Like crocheting colors that are hard to tell the difference between, so I’m learning to mix up the bolds a bit more. I am so glad to have the challenges to overcome. And glad that crocheting in a row is something okay for my vision, accomplishing something pretty in the the end result. So on to the next project….

From beinging to the end

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If you have followed me for any amount of time, you might know that I love sharing my Bible readings and insights. Today of course is another of those. And I also love sharing tips about how to expand your thoughts towards God.

I finished the year with a new mosaic crochet tile pattern. Learning curve for me as the green with white one that I did had too many stitches and needs a remake. And of course there is the stash of yarn that’s hope for a hook. I do plan a remake on the “chips ahoy” blanket that I never really liked. I hope to do some sort of add-in and perhaps I will like it then. Or give it away!

Ecclesiastes 3: 11 is a very often quoted verse from the scriptures. Most people know the first part, “He has made everything beautiful in its time.” But many do not know the middle section, “He has put eternity in their hearts…” and I venture that some have no idea the last part of the verse is in the same verse as the beautiful quote, Here it is “…except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end.” Wow, making everything beautiful is God’s mysterious work and no one has that understanding. There is that moment when the caterpillar becomes the butterfly, when is that exact moment?

God has put eternity in our hearts. Today my dear little cousin is going through yet another colon surgery. The surgeries that he has had are going into the second set of digits on the hands. I cannot imagine the thoughts and fears that he has experienced in his young life. Yet, God has worked eternity into his heart and he asked to be baptized this past Sunday before the upcoming surgery. Such blessed assurance the Lord is working out in his life and those who know him. surely, we cannot find out the work that God is doing from beginning to end.

So today as the beginning of a new year dawns, I wonder at all those who celebrate with hope and joy what God will work in others lives around me. Just like you, the past year held so many tragic images, I want to focus on the beauty that God brought to me.

While my physical eyesight continues to to fail me, and I wonder why things look so blurry, I will gain a better vision of a clear future in eternity. With those who have gone before me, I can hope for our renewed gatherings in glory. The holidays have changed so much without the visits of those whom we held dear. Now heaven is feeling more and more like the “hope of home” than it ever has before. It is no wonder that the older one becomes, the more homesick we are. It is easier for me to imagine my father’s clear vision restored in glory than it is for me to imagine the garden in it’s July prime this next summer. (It’s the weeds that do me in.)

This year in its beginning, I choose hope. The other day as I tried to clean out the library, I asked for my husband’s help. It did not go really well well, and my herbage became nearly worth the little garbage pail in the room. Finally, I asked him to leave, and I would finish the clean up myself. Yes, he was helpful at reading the titles and such, but that task was done, and now it was time to find a new home for the menagerie of items displaced. I did get it done in case you want to know. But it was a new beginning to me, having help with a task that I have done by myself for the past thirty plus years.

And so the beginning of the year has arrived with its new beginnings and its hope for positive endings, like a clean room that one can breathe in once again. Hope is often hard to grasp. The Bible says that “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen.” Hope then can be defined as the expectation of a future outcome that drives one to act upon its believed outcome. How does one translate hope into action. Faith that is not active is not full of hope.

The most common simplified version of Hebrews 11:! “ We walk by faith, not by sight.” Yet Faith does have sight! The vision or dream of what will be is what keeps the faithful moving forward towards the prize or the high calling of Christ. Yes HOPE is the ability to see what is not there. The dreamers capacity is HOPE!

From the beginning of this year, I do not know how its end will be. There are so many hopes and dreams. Like the garden of bulbs planted in the fall that one hopes for in the spring, I must decide to do the work of dividing the soil and placing the dead looking object into the ground. Seed planting is how my brain works. Now I must translate the hopeful bulb garden into everyday life and keep “walking by faith.”

Stacking Logs for the Yuletide

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Of visions and dreams, many of which are in the past, here are a few that I cannot forget. I hope that I am gaining some insight from these night time entertainments!

As a little child, trying to climb the ladder, only to find it leads to a diving board that is over the abyss of fire and there is no answer. This dream came before my understanding of Jesus as my Savior. I have dreams of ladders still, but mostly of steps, or staircases that seem never to end. Now I know Jesus is the bridge across the divide.

In Iowa when I was seeking purpose as my children were little and husband was suffering from depression and thyroid crash beginnings, I had many “sound” visions. The alarm, the telephone ringing, the trumpet blast, the thunderous waterfall, the wind in the wilderness, and others. Most of them were followed by specific Bible passages and the interpretation or understanding to go with these verses. I wrote many songs during that time frame and my ears were open to the words of the Holy Spirit. It is such a strong relationship memory with My Lord and I. So thankful that God carried me through my illness with ITP for 12 years with a close walk those four or five years.

Another reoccurring dream is stacking logs. I still don’t quite fully understand all the implications except for the accumulation of of things and stuff on this earth. Things and stuff are such a trap and the weight of all this stuff and really ruin a person. It’s hard, because our parents havee spent 50 plus years of gathering things and left them to be dispersed only by what stuff we have ourselves to divide all out betwixt ourselves and our children. How do I essentially leave a legacy that is not simply a pile of logs to be burned up?

This little cupboard is a washstand replica that my father-in-law made for me. I filled it with my “logs” of shawls. It’s probably time to gift a few of them!

And then one day, I thought of the visuals of yarn logs, or cakes of yarn and the walls behind some of my favorite you tube tutorial teachers…. Is crocheting my “stacking of logs” just to be burned up? I better think of a better use of my projects for proper give-away.

This month, I changed my thought process on yarn projects. Oh, how I love the warm shawls while I sit and work. But no one else seems to value the prayer shawl as I do. So it’s time for Christmas ornaments, doily displays, pillows, or afghans. What are the most common give-away items for crochet, I thought? So, I looked it up.

Hats, scarves, blankets, animal stuffies and … dishcloths. Well, dishcloth’s are out as I have an entire bag full of them. Oh yes bags! I love making bags. Scarves are quick and blankets are time consuming. Ahhh, yes, the hats! The whole set is fun, with the mittens, turtle scarf (cowl neck warmer) but what other home decor can I give away?

These two matching pillows are hot off the hook! I just finished the matching one on the right after I found my yarn stash in the tote under the bed.

And while I was making those pillows, my mind went to the lost cause… well, okay, the lost yarn. When the kids came to stay in August I spend a few days hurriedly packing away much of my clutter. That included several bags of yarn and loose end projects. But where had I stashed the yarn? I spent the next few months looking for the yarn. I tore apart three closets and put everything back. Then I cleaned under all the beds and got rid of the dust bunnies. Until finally last Saturday, I began to wonder if the one bed had four totes under it instead of just three. There at last I found my whole tote full of yarn! Now I could make the matching pillows!

so, yes, stacking logs is not my favorite past time experience anymore. Stacking crochet shawls should not be either. Perhaps gifting away many of my projects should be more in my thought process than just passing the time. The stuff can start spilling out of all the corners and all the closets, and all the totes pretty quickly!

Out of the Silence

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New book reviews and learning to reflect. While I have “read” nearly four or five books in the past few months, the book that I am doing right now is “Unlearning Silence.” (author Elaine Lin Hering)

Today as I listened about silencing personhood spirits, I thought of the verse from Jesus about murdering and killing with words. So many times we “joy kill” or “steal dreams” and how has this happened in my own life, or have I done this to others.

I have a few silencing stories to share that probably would make the other person cringe if they really knew what had happened or how I felt in the situation. One recently was while discussing allergy experience and taking the right anecdotes. I tried to tell about my learning as was silenced as if my knowledge was inferior and incomprehensible. I felt “idiotic”or “dumbed down” by the way I was responded to. It was a real turn off. Yep, I decided not to share my “knowledge” anymore. Even though I knew that I was right and my ER visit was more recent than the other person I was talking to.

Another time in my life I asked a friend for a ride to one of my daughter’s daytime recital hours, only to be refused with “Oh, I don’t think I can do that.” I was so hurt by the rejection, I really never asked this person for anything ever again. And while she still attempts friendliness, my heart has been guarded ever since that rejection and careful not to set myself up for pain. What kind of true friendship is that?

Another time of being “shushed” that really stepped on my toes was when a conversation between two women had a moment where I felt I could relate. I tried to say something about my father in a related sitiuation only to be literally “shushed” by one of the women. It was so painful. And knowing this relationship was in the season of “coffee hours” spend together, while I was in so much pain and loneliness missing the exact “time” and relational season. There were so many moments in that season where I was silenced by the individual, I had a lot of letting go and soul searching to do while I waited for the person to come back to even being “interested” in my caring, sharing and prayers.

Today’s exercise is all about breaking the silence, coming out of the isolation, and finding connections. One time about a year or so ago, someone actually told me “thank you” for sharing in my blogs about being blind and going blind. So here’s my frustration from just this week. My apologies for this being so real and sharp. If just one person hears this, it was worth saying.

Someone is probably not going to like this story of silencing at all, and that’s okay, because it’s my story to tell. When my husband and I were dating we used to go out to eat with a group of friends to a local Mexican restaurant and have a late night meal. While for the most part these memories are very fun and memorable, there is one night when things took a very hard turn. One of the participants in the group gave him a birthday present this first August that was the perfect silencing gift. Perhaps getting a can of WD40 spray oil is normal. Later on I asked what was meant by it. He did in all honesty not seem to mind that this “mean” person essentially told everyone there she could not stand that at times I would “squeak.” I was not aware of my laughter snort or squeak and it took me awhile to get the whole meaning behind this silencing. Funny how it really did set up the relationship over the next many years to be one in which I was inevitably “shut down” and being myself was never welcome around this person. It really saddens me to see that this practice has come full circle and the very person who gave him the oil can has been silenced by a health crisis.

Sunday we went to church and were a little late in arriving for the fellowship hour. The ladies table was full and the next table over was relatively empty when I entered. My husband did not get me coffee or find me a seat. I walked very slowly toward the coffee bar and there was a toddler standing in the center of the walking aisle. Thank goodness I saw the toddler. His sibling was sitting in the chair back turned and saw my interaction with the little guy. “That’s our baby!” She stated. I responded with, “well, he doesn’t look much like a baby ‘cause he’s standing up already!” Yeah, she said and went back to her snack. The little guy was not going to move, so I patted him on the head and walked past. No failing eyesight at that moment. Win. Next, I picked up my coffee and greeted my relative. She is hard of hearing now, so it was just a shoulder squeeze and a smile. Then it was time to decide about sitting. I chose a seven year old boy eating his snack alone. My chat with him was engaging and fun. Time to head to class the moment to connect was over.

My eyesight traps me in a little hallway sometimes. Like there is invisible walls on either side of me and seeing an open doorway to another individual most often times is missed. Sometimes I wonder just how many times someone has tried to engage me with a smile, a word not heard (I am also completely deaf in my left ear) and someone thinks that I am just rude. Really, I simply did not see.

I went to the doctor on Friday for my earaches. My allergies have arrived at the point where it feels like someone stuck a marble behind each ear. Pretty painful. The nurse leading me to the room said “we’ll turn right into this room“ while she gestured with her hand to go left. I actually caught the gesture and and then she said “I mean the other right-LEFT.” I laughed, and said it’s okay, I actually saw that gesture with your hand this time.

My eyesight got ahold of me yesterday and I tried to shut the door over my little granddaughter’s toes. I had not seen her there in the doorway when I came in. Rough moment. Her cry demanded my response and my apology, “I’m, sorry, Oma did not see you here in the door. It’s probably not the best place to be when someone is coming in and out. Will you forgive me for hurting your toe?” It was met with an “okay” and a sniffle. Bother for teaching these little one’s the hard way about my eyesight. I hate that I have to hurt them for them to understand.

The end of the book is not here yet. I guess I am a little slow if I only read for a half hour at a time. The book came from the State Library and while I intended to send it right back with the reader, and get set up on BARD on my phone, nothing has happened yet, so I’m still listening. Sometimes it is kind of like the radio, where it’s nice to have someone else pick the music. Maybe we will listen to something we’ve never heard before and actually enjoy it. Books are like that. I don’t always know what to pick. Like when we try to pick a movie on the watch app only to still be surfing the titles thirty minutes later. Recommendations are great!

While I am still attempting to listen and be correct in my speech this journal entry is now too long. So on I go into the next. Silence is deafening today as the wind is blowing a bit too much. The classic radio is going, the Bible is droning in the background, and I’m thinking about who I can call and suffer through a phone call with!

Ordinarily

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Remember that silly little song “The Cat Came Back?” Well, it wasn’t even five days after saying goodbye to Crush that the black cat that I brought home from Colome two summers ago came back to this place. Had he really been displaced by Crush and stayed on the outskirts of the property until now? We think it might be Zucchini as sister Pepper died on the road. Enough of the cat saga, it’s time to fill in other details.

Another ordinarily is that I would put a picture of Zucchini her to show you how he sits on top of the kids swingset, but my blog says my data upload option os shut off because my media storage is full. I’m a blind person and have no idea how to fix this problem. So there is the mental picture you figure it out.

Ordinarily, I think of some little story of the kids to tell. One day each week with the grandkids fills the love tank and gives me all kinds of little happenings to tell the greats. There’s only one great left to tell- my mother. And since she is at an assisted living facility it is awful hard to get ahold of her. So then, I would save the stories for the greats at the church coffee hour. But now even those have dwindled in number, as we say goodbye to another one today.

A new month brings with it the hopes for the future. And some more goodbyes also. My hubby’s birth month ends with his mother’s birthday. Not having her will be bittersweet as we take hold of new memories and hold a new little one in our arms. August is full of possibilities. But today we remember one of his mom’s dear friends who just passed away.

When we say that the “landscape” is changing we think about the recent storms and the loss of tree tops and structures no longer here. But in our lives the look of persons no longer sitting in their places at church is also part of the landscape change. We have lost so many giants in the faith at our church this past year. And the deaths of so many parents in the 80 something years makes the stream seem bare. Oh Lord, that my roots stay deep into the living water during this vast changing season of our lives.

Ordinary days have taken on an emptiness that is hard to explain. Si many days I want to make that call to my dad or my mom-in-law and it’s just not possible. I added some siblings ti ny favorite call list but there are times no one fits the “tell”list fit what I am thinking about.

The song “ I must tell Jesus” goes thru my mind frequently.

And then like some nightmare, I come across a secular song that has all the wrong thought processes. “Immortality” by the BeeGee’s and a guest singer, talks about following the path that lies ahead as we walk without the loved one who has gone from our lives. They try to say that “We don’t say goodbye”… but we all know better. While the memories live on, and the things that the person said and did still echo in our heads, our hearts hurt and the goodbye is still there to sting and bite like an unknown bee in the flowers that we grasp unto each time that we call them to mind.

Echoes in the mountains only last for a short while. Echos of loved ones gone before the fullness of time are the hardest to handle. Echoes of genetic trace within the family carry on into the future beyond our comprehension.

Ordinarily, I would sit in my chair and crochet while the stories of others carry me through the stitches. Perhaps today it is time to take up another pass time. Telling the stories of the people that made me has always been one of my “dreams.” While there are books, movies, experiences, and occupations, it is the people that surround us that make us who we are.

The song begins “So this is who I am / And this is all I know / I must choose to live / For all that I can give…”. There are two kinds of people in this world, givers and takers. And it always fascinates me that the takers are so confused about true giving. Being a giver is taught. And oh the job of the mother to teach patience in the taking, and to teach love in the giving.

Another ordinarily is my Reading apps. I first used the Google reader. Then they removed the “free” option. We tried Envision, and now they dropped that reader and changed it to “Ally.” I think the next one I use will be be ChatGPT or something like that. So at the moment my reader is all garblety gook and very frustrating. The software changed so frequently, it does not even know who she is when she looks in the mirror. Ordinarily I’d say something kind, but right now I’m a little frustrated iwth software updates.

And one final note about roadwork, changes that lead to dead ends…. My daughter’s new house is causing me quite the meantal battles. The flooring is all the same. And the walls are all the same colors. So finding my way through the house often leads me right into a brick wall. Well, okay maybe it’s just the fact that the hall ends with the wall on angle and the door protrudes out from that. It is a light at the end of the tunnel nightmare, because the end of the hall is dark. I have found the door, the wall, the china cabinet, the wrong door, the chair, the corner of the doorway and many other objects except what I was looking for. Ordinarily using my cane would be a better way of finding my hoped for path, but I am stubborn about using my cane in the house where it could make children trip. So I stuggle on.

Yarns About the Year (2024 Crochet Review)

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We began the year with a new look on the sofa. And considering we sit opposite the couch most of the time, it’s a good look. Sofa cushions finally came the end of the year at Christmas, but alas I failed the picture taking fo that one. Most of the time there is a little black Shih Tzu pretending he is a cat sitting on the top of the back. It is the most comfortable window watching position in the house.

The sofa got a new five row C2C afghan quilt in January.

Sweater making became my next goal. Poor Kona does not take the temperatures dropping below 20 degrees Fahrenheit very well. Neither do I so, making him an appropriate sweater was a must. He was about 14 lbs when this was made. And though he now weighs fifteen, it still fits. February saw him get a good professional grooming session also.

Next up was remaking the “Furbie” balnket into one for Kona. At reverse image black and white, I could not find Kona on the black half. Part of me had a hard time actually using Furbie’s blanket. He was such a good family dog. Will this little guy ever become that kind of all people’s pet? So once again we made the C2C quilt afghan. He likes it in his new bed that we made later in the year. The year was marching right along the crochet hooks!

April and May were a little busy. We are kind of calling this a parent season in our lives. We are trying not to feel so overwhelmed by everything that needs to be done while we run to the aid of one parent or another. We want to be with then as much as is possible. My mother suffered some minor strokes and ended up selling her house. Saying goodbye to to the old pet’s blanket seemed pretty insignificant.

New stitch time came in June as I picked up that Tunisian five count “Entrelak” stitch again. This time I found that using a bigger hook really helped make a softer fabric. I enjoyed a couple of sample projects before making one that I was happy with the outcome. First I made a shawl, and then I made a shrug. Later in the year I began a leftovers afghan.

June and July were spent “practicing” the Entrelac crochet stitch.

Late summer, I left the Tunisian to return to mosaic for awhile. This shawl is actually acting asa table runner for now in my home on the coffee table. The yellow one is on another table in a bedroom. So there was August and September in a flash. Fall arrived with its life alterations for our family. And I just did not spend as mushy time crocheting as I thought I did.

So many new favorites

I also made this beautiful remake poncho for my mom during August maybe? She had purchased the fisherman’s wool yarn a few years back. I made a simple lapghan back then. But this one is just plain pretty compared to what it used to be.

Next I began the grand Give Away afghan. Really, I never liked the pool blue yarn anyway. But the blanket is amazingly warm, comfortable and quite stunning! Yes, I gave it away. Now I can buy more yarn and start another project. Right?

And the little hats were part of the bigger project. I bought the yarn originally for hats. Then got going on the afghan. I made less than a dozen hats this year. Just was not into the idea, I guess. They were cute though. And having the hat size chart sure helps! November was a tough time for the whole family as we learned to live without one of our favorite old persons. Having the head of the family go heavenward just changes so much.

Back to favorites for the close of the year. I can’t believe the project list is so minimal this year. There are a few things in between hear and there, but nothing worth mentioning. I still listen to a lot of books while I crochet. On occasion I put on a move. But it’s kind of hard to watch TV and m hands at the same time.

The stickiest book for the year was the one I read on Mother Theresa. I can still quote things for the book even though it timed out on my listening app. I read Tom Brokaw’s “The Greatest Generation” and have to agree with my mother that it should be required reading for every American eight grader. I got hooked on Brian Jaques “Redwall” seriesl and just can’t seem to get enough of them. If there was something more fo adults like that I wish someone would tell me. Call it research for my book about Cocoa I suppose. I tabled some of the thoughts that I had and am working on just letting my mind wander for a little while. I have so many children’s book ideas. Not really sure why my get up and go is lagging behind a little.

I also did a couple of of rug overs…. Or make over rugs, like just adding to ones that I had so they were appropriate sized. I have two more rugs I want to build bigger. Haha. I am hoping if the little guy sees me making them, he will decided they are not pee-mats. Uff dah. I just wish he would tell me every time! And of course it is always fun to find all of the yarn wraps and count them. That will take some dancing around the furniture and baskets to find them all. And yes, I did less crochet projects this year. Only 31 skein wraps to be found. Some of them one pound wraps and others just baby bee cotton or something. Less, yes, much less than in years past!

Shadows Dispel

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“…shadows dispeling with joy I am telling, He made all the darkness depart…Heaven Came Down and Glory Filled My Soul!”

Darkness Closes In-and I wonder just how much longer. How long, O Lord? I miss so many cute little things that the kids do. Unless I sit still and literally stare at them, I don’t see there little faces that they make. I wonder so and struggle to recognize faces because I see the backs of their little heads and miss all of their other happenings.

I even miss looking at my husband’s face. I’m about to set up the table so that we have to face each other.

Becoming…. This word keeps echoing in my head and heart. As human beings we spend so much of our time “doing.” Just being is left totally he end of our days. We rarely think of what we are becoming. The other thought I have is how “becoming” was a word once used to express the beauty of the Lord’s touch upon a person. Some people are so enamored with “handsome” features that they will not look upon a lowly person or one of less stature in the becoming realm.

Once upon a time I met someone whome others thought of as less becoming than others. I remember getting to know this person and thinking how much she displayed the “character of Christ” in her life. She seemed to me the most beautiful soul that ever I had met. Yet many people would not even visit with her for her looks were not pleasant. One time I read a writer use the words “ the smile of the homely can radiate the Lord’s beauty more than the most handsome in their sour disposition.” Indeed.

Real and Truly Me… When do I feel the most authentic me that God has made me to be. Three examples are all that I have to share.

The first is when I am playing piano and it truly becomes “play.” Like when my sister tried to play some song that she worked much of her high school piano lessons to learn. Then I sat down and began playing it in it’s entirety. For the life of me I can’t recall the huymn at this moment. But the sense of who I am and who God is making me to be while I played that song completely out of no memory work or previous practice. That was ME. (I never meant it to be boastful by any means… just the nature of God enabling me to play piano.) Some will say I am gifted. Maybe.

The second example I can give is when my grand kids are searching for a moment of entertainment and I get to impart “Imagination” to them. Like the day my oldest grand daughter was so hungry she began whining for snack nearly a half hour before her mommy was ready to find one. So

Who I am… when it’s dark and I’m struggling to find the children in the room and Yolanda’s house. The sense of fear that crouches nearby to disuade me from enjoying what I hear while I struggle to see the silouette fo some child.I began imagining with her. I am so so hungry that “I am an Eagle flying over a river with no fish.” I am so hungry I am a bear with no berries on the bushes. I am so hungry I am mouse in the cupboard with no crumbs. Finally she said “I am so hungry I am a cheetah with no chips to eat.” I clapped for her. Good job! That’s much better than whining for fifteen minutes. And now mommy is ready

The third example I can give is when I am in the greenhouse planting up plants. The enjoyment that I experience is never ending. And I forget about time and all else. I could stay in the greenhouse for hours. When I don’t get my “time” in there, I soon get cranky and wonder what I am experiencing. So It’s time to get back to the escape room. Taking the dog is not an escape. I wish he would just lay down and behave himself instead of trying to get my attention by being naughty. There are days I want to just go there and forget the rest of the world even is happening.

The disgust at myself when I see one more container in the flower bed that needs to be picked up and returned to the greenhouse. Full irritation when I hit my ring finger and break a blood vessel right in the joint. Ouch. And the fear I have when I begin walking while on the phone… should I even be moving right now! And there are times when I have crashed over something while on the phone. Concentration is what it takes to move anywhere. Is this still real and truly me when I am in my full struggle mode?

When are you most your self? It might feel really hard to recognize ME unless we take a full video of some situation. It is amazing how life’s happenings color our world and our perception of self. Ask “Do others see me in the same way that I see me?” Probably not. Introspection is not the same as analytical evaluation is it?

I John 1:5 “This is the message we have heard from Him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all.”

Surrender

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Proverbs 17:1 “Better is a dry morsel with peace and quiet than a house full of feasting with anguish and strife.”

Surrender. A word one often associates with unique circumstances. Surrender your will. Surrender your hopes and dreams. Surrender your dog. Something I never thought that I would do.

The past month my life felt like anguish and strife constantly. Peace had so far eluded me that even night time was a battle for sleep. It took me over six weeks to discover the true problem.

The source of strife can be so elusive sometimes. She wanders away just when you think peace and enjoyment is about to be yours, strife strikes once again. The amount of strength and energy that it requires to strive after this constant battle is exhausting.

About a month ago, our Honey Doodle started to be bored and listless. She took the energy out of me just looking at her. Finally on Saturday morning the rope snapped. She had left me to do my watering and ran off to roll in something dead once again. My energy level was already zapped by allergies and asthma from the morning dew. I had just finished a phone call with my daughter. In my duty I reached to grab the frisbee and toss it for an attentive dog, only to smell that horrible stench. I snapped.

After about five minutes of being controlled by my anger, I collected Kona from his “little horse trailer” outdoor crate, and went into the house. My first call was my husband. I let him know what happened, that I had snapped, and that I was officially DONE.

My second call was to my sister to help get me down out of my anger volcano. The lava was everywhere. There was no turning back. I had spent six years trying to be a “strong” personality with this doodle dog and I could no longer do it. Being strong voiced, commanding and boisterous is not WHO I am. My energy level is minimal. I can not run six miles every day with a golden doodle. And that is what she needs.

Even throwing the frisbee for twenty minutes three times a day was not enough. She required more than I can give. My thought process included wondering if I could take care of Kona in the next ten years. I had not even been thinking that Honey was the source of my energy drain.

This morning when I heard the preacher on the radio talking about this Proverb, I was amazed at it’s timing. Does God really care that my dog and I did not get along? Does God know how sorry I really am that she was not the right fit for me and my anger was so easily roused by her every behavior?

I read the book last year about “Dog Mirrors” and how Honey was just being the mirror of my inner turmoil. Honestly there are some ways that may be true. Like my anxiety when going outdoors has been rather high this past two months. The allergies and asthma that drain my energy make me constantly wonder if the asthma will let me get back to the house before “black out” time. Well, I know she read anxiety as “anxious activity” and became more agitated and moved more herself.

Like when it was time to go somewhere and I was looking for my things, she would jump up and get RIGHT in the way. Her movements would always be just a few steps in from of me making me more and more agitated because she would block my way, block my view, or keep me from finding my shoes. It was SO NOT HELPFUL. And always made me more aggravated and I could never get her to STAY in one spot until I was ready.

Here’s a note if you are ever around a visual impaired person-Stop moving around all the time. If you can’t sit still to carry a conversation, don’t be friends with a peripherally challenged individual. I knew a gal one time that wanted to be helpful to me, but whenever we were together she behaved just like Honey. Always moving and I could never decipher where she was going to sit next. Rather than sitting in one chair and visiting, it’s like she was a honey bee checking the nectar level of every chair in my living room. I did not invite her back into my life.

So now that the dry morsel is peaceful to eat… shall we move on?

Surrendering my dog was not something I ever had in mind when I got that dog. But I am not the right fit. She is too exuberant in her greetings to strangers and I have NO CONTROL over her bad manners when people come to visit. Of course I haven’t much control over Charlie either, but he does not zoom around like his pants are on fire when someone comes to the acreage either. And he is very treat motivated. Cookies work to get him to come to me.

This week should be much more peaceful. As soon as I get to the chiropractor to fix all the things out in my back and shoulders from her bad behavior Saturday morning.

Kona looking out the window the day after

When I left her on Saturday, I felt like some great weight had been lifted from my back. We will have a few things to adjust to in the house or outside, but already I prefer the quieter life.

It’s Hard To See The Picture When You’re Standing So Close

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We watched a movie about the VonTrap Family a few weeks ago and the main character said this quote above to her young niece. Indeed it seems to sum up all the happenings of the last few weeks. I have tried to write little “snippets” of things over this time frame and nothing seems to flow. Keeping the thoughts relevant to a particular theme for the writing has been hard with only a little moment or two to write.

This morning my mother’s distraction while on the phone definitely attested to her recent mild stroke symptoms. I called her in the middle of her thought process with another sibling, the other phone rang, and the support person there at the house had to take her dog out. Too much all at once and my mother set me down-the phone she was holding the call on. After five minutes of listening, I just hung up. She was not going to remember me at the moment. Ten minutes later, delayed response, she called me back to hear what it was I had called about. Short term memory lapse is sometimes funny. Most of the time just annoying.

So rather than letting my writing be all chopped up and from several different sit-down-type-sessions, I decided to start all over and drop the disrated writing attempts. I didn’t want everyone to feel like they were on a video chat with my daughter, mother of four little ones. Children don’t let mommy get anything done in straight order. Five minute intervals are all one get before someone is crying or needs a discipline action.

My ability to crochet a project has taken a nose dive also. I tried to do some mosaic crochet stitch sampler only to run out of one of the yarns that I was using as a base color. I miss crochet. It is someone of an anti-fret-not-knots for me. So I looked up some of the fret not sayings and studied the meanin. Fret means to work oneself up into anger enough to do damage. Fret not means to let go of the thing “bothering” oneself into a worked up mess. A “fret knot” on the instrument is a way of tying the wire (that is used for resonating sound) so as to allow the wire to accept the tension of plucking to make a pleason sound. My children played stringed instruments so I know the importance of the fret board or the “pegs.” Little kids see those frets and just want to turn the “buttons” instead of leaving them alone. We are all like little kids in that respect, We want to twist up the tension until things break.

How can I take this lesson to heart? How can I truly “fret not” over the future that is in store for me, or others? Especially right now… while I worry about my mother’s recent stroke or any of my other family and their prayer needs. My natural release has always been to crochet. And making the fret knots with my hook usually helps. Until now when my mind is so worried I can’t come up with a project that I am happy with. Like the peg or fret I must find a way to anchor myself in the Lord’s promise that He will hlep me make a beautiful sound when the tension arises.

The other fret not activity for me is my gardening or greenhouse. I have found with Kona that I am not spending the hours of consecutive working in the greenhouse like I use too. And so far taking him with has not worked well. He wants to pick things up that he should not chew on and therefore “ruins” the peace of my sanctuary in the garden dome structure. One day maybe we’ll get this figured out. When he does not behave, I just bring him back to the house and put him in the crate. Someday he’ll learn to be with me is enough. Every dog is a bit of a snoopy during their early years.

And meanwhile all this happenings of disabling busy worrying, my heart has rested on a couple of verses for spiritual food. Psalm 37:7-8 “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him…Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil.”

The bigger picture is only seen by the Lord. Right now I am living is the little tiny corner of the painting and I have no clue what else is on the canvas. I am standing so close to the thing, only hindsight will show me the rest of the true view. Because my eyesight often puts this exact phenomenon into play for me, I understand the quote readily. My tunnel vision works that way. When I look at a hymn I have to be close enough to see the note on the line or between the line, only to loose sight of the rest of the stanza. Therefore beign too close to get the full view of the hymns melody.

Two different analogies but very relatable to me with my failing eyesight. The painting or the hymn is best viewed or heard in it’s entirety. We don’t always have that luxury. For now I will simply have to wait on the Lord.