Going to church for children’s message is still my thing. I get so much more out of the little happenings in those five minutes. This past Sunday it was the orange that sinks or floats lesson. The seal of the Holy Spirit on our lives is like the cloak of the orange peel. When we listen to His prompting to obey the Lord and ask for help from the Father when we are treading water. So the object lesson is a pitcher of water in which first the orange peeled gets dropped in the water as we try to do everything on our own. But when we put on the life vest of Jesus Christ, we are saved. Pastor put his hand into the pitcher to retrieve the sunken orange only to have water go everywhere. One little child repreated his parents words in automatic response, “What did you think was going to happen?” As the congregation ripples with laughter and the water spill requires a towel, the lesson continued with the orange keeping it’s cloak of peeling and floating on top of the water just as it should. Two lessons or three in one! Don’t sink and drown wear you life vest. Don’t try to do things on your own, ask for help from the Lord. And Don’t fill the pitcher too full, because you will soon need a towel (helper) to wipe up of the spill. And maybe, think before you act, so that there is not a mess in the first place.
Changing weather is so hard. It’s like a roller coaster of wind, warm, and cold as we head into spring. The first day of spring here was Friday. And Saturday the alarm in the greenhouse went off at 99 degrees Fahrenheit. I rotated all of the fans and worked early in the morning repotting some of the geraniums. The Mother’s Day starts are all ready now and will just require water until the day. Maybe flower clean up every two weeks. Then on Monday morning, (today) the alarm went sounded again as the temperature in the greenhouse dropped to 39 degrees. Bother it’s hard to keep up with this pendulum swing.
I have always known the weather to be hard on the animals. A few years ago just about Easter, our little rescue Eva found the end of her days. Tabitha was her buddy cat. They had slept together, shared the dog hut, and generally layed around together for two years. When Eva was getting her last loves, Tabitha came over and rested on her legs one more time. It was so sweet to see them caring for each other. I cried much over that parting. Tabitha was mad at me for three days after that. She wouldn’t even return to the porch. Finally though she did, and spend many of her best days as our favorite porch cat ever. Way too many ways to say goodbye. Tabitha developed kidney failure in the last month. I knew she did not feel well the last few days, because she was one of those “potty trained” cats. When I took the dog out, in the morning, she had to go do her thing on the edge of the grove also. It’s always hard to say goodbye to pets.
Best front porch cat ever, Tabitha had her faults as a kitten, getting stuck in the mulch bin with another cat Boomerang. And she spend two or three wellness spa visits in the greenhouse recuperating from double respiratory infection, and then a sinus infection, and then skin tears from a mean male tomcat. She was on medicines more than any of our other cats. And she was also in the house more often on my lap than any other cat. She followed me to the greenhouse until she did not. We thought maybe she had lost some hearing from the sinus infections. She just did not choose to leave the porch very often. Tabitha found refuge in the boxes that we put out on the porch.
Maybe some cats are angels. You know there are some people that really don’t think cats are good. They do tend to cut you off at the top of the deck stairs many times as if the joy of watching humans tumble to the ground is in them. But then there are the cats that give people new leases on life, and a purpose for living. These cats could be angels in disguise. Tabitha was so good with the kids also. She just put up with so much.
Then there’s the morning greetings that constantly change throughout the years on an acreage. Missing Cocoa’s whiney or snicker took nerly two years to get over. Now it’s Tabitha’s morning perch on the porch deck box as she waited for us to come out. As soon as my feet hit the floor in the bedroom she exited her little warm box, and sat in the deck box waiting for a morning pat on the head. It is the one thing about daily duties that makes life worth living. Daily greetings form a dog, a cat, a horse, or any other such vocal being reminds me that the Lord walks with us and wants such close relationship also.
We were made to be in relationship with others. From pets to people, God reminds us that He is very creative in reminding us that He is real and true and loving and faithful. I will miss Tabitha’s daily expectations.
“When we walk with the Lord, in the light of His word, what a glory He sheds on our way….” Lyrics from the song “Trust and Obey” by Don Moen
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….
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 “Therefore we do not loose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary affliction is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
Thirty five years ago I woke up from anesthesia following an appendectomy and hear this little song in my mind as my conscienceless returned to me: “The birds upon the tree tops sing their songs, they lift their little voices all life long, so why can’t I? Why can’t you, Praise Him Too!” It has taken me nearly that long to understand that purpose statement in my life.
When my ears are nearly blowing up from the sinus pressure of a very long allergy season, how do I find my voice to Praise God? When the wind is blowing and the low whine is driving me insane just as the wind nearly did some thirty years earlier during a blizzard, how do I Praise God now? How can I praise God when I am having a bad day physically, because my eyes don’t tell me where I am anymore? There are days I find it hard to find a song of praise.
These present afflictions can go on and on some days zapping our energy, our hope, our focus, our love, our kindness and even our faith. We live in a world of full of erosion and destruction. Every day becomes a battle to grow an inner belief that does not fade.
So taking a look at the moments in my life today. What is true? My first focus of any day is what is the weather. I want to know how to dress. I am so glad that I have a home that keeps me out of the elements all night long and that I have a device to tell me how the weather is for the day. The truth is the air surrounding me is more my focus than the One who gives me the ability to breath that air. Lord, thank You for giving me so much!
What is noble? Looking for the grandeur amongst the clay pots of life is more to be commended that studying the dirt that fills the pot. For me it’s all about the beauty of the plant in the pot. Today, the holiday cactus put a new blooms on. Last year I have five months of continuous blooms on the plant. It amazes me to see the beauty of the trumpeting bloom declaring God’s infinite imagination!
What is just? While many of us wish life could always be fair, much of the time it simply is not. Like what justice is there in my husband’s having a muscular dystrophy that is so obscure and debilitating? What justice is there in giving me a body that could walk miles but lungs that won’t allow it? Physcially speaking living in a fallen world means justice is not to had within our life here. God’s justice is not often known here on earth. It’s eternal justice that we seek, and even that is only done by the everlasting kindness of a merciful God through Jesus.
What is pure? There are days, I am reminded that little Kona has a little white spot on his chest. I think of that spot as his purity mark. Dog’s love with pure abandon. They have no preconceived plans for the day. They have no concept of anything other than what we offer them. God put His mark of love in Kona’s little heart and it shines right through to make a spot on his chest reminding me that God loves us with pure abandon also. Jesus left his home in heaven and came to show us what pure love looks like. It is so bright it sends all the darkness away!
What things are lovely? Praise God for so many lovely thoughts to turn me our of my troubling mindset. The wind can really do a number on me mentally. But only God can take this momentary affliction and help me find things to Praise Him about. It is lovely to have a classic radio station to drown out the wind. It is lovely to have husband that loves me enough to call and see how I’m handling the day. It is lovely to have a puppy lean on my legs and tell me I am not alone.
What good report have I to share with you? I finished the pink / gray scarf with the nordic Freyja heart pattern. I did it thinking about breast cancer awareness. I have two aunts and now a cousin who has survived the dreaded cancer. That is a good report!
Kona testing the rug that is finally finished. He is starting to do the comfy test on every item I crochet.
What virtuous and praise worthy thing can I meditate on today? So thankful for my daughter’s and the virtues that God has instilled in them. From one being a mother that constantly plants good seeds into her children, to the other being a boss that lifts up her employees to do their best, God has granted me two beautiful women to watch on a daily basis be praiseworthy and virtuous .
Phillipians 4 verse eight says, “Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of a good report if there be any virtue or if there be anything praise worthy, think (meditate) on these things.” (ESV). I use to get stuck on the whatever attitude that people had for a time, something like the overuse of the word “like.” Thinking on the good report rather than all the negative bad news in the world is a focus challenge. While my ears feel like they are about to blow up and I am deciding on whether I need more medicine or the doctor, I must decide to think upon the good report. For example, today the tub of onions that I received from my dad’s onion patch got tipped over at some point last spring. We just left it that way, and sure enough the onions prefer growing on the ground than in the tub. I was able to harvest a few for my chicken noodle soup today.
Greenhouse update or good report: The aloe vera plant went crazy this past year loving the atmosphere in the dome. I now have seven plants to give away where there was just two before. I’ll keep two and get rid of the extra.
My crochet story good report: I finished the pink scarf and started another. Even though I lost a whole bag of yarn this last few months. I misplaced while preparing for the grandkids overnight stay when little newborn brother came along. I still have not found the lost bag of yarn. My husband was nice and let me buy more!
I remember the first time I learned to crochet a chain. Then I added the single crochet hooked stitch in between. What followed was the ability to make a string of flowers. My goodness have htings changed. Looking at the latest project (Wild Things/ thin flowers with ends) I realized that essentially it is a String of flowers. On a whole new level of course!
Wild Things Thin Flowers with ends by the crazy crochet cat lady. I call this one “The string of flower” Dierra style!
The grey background behind the pink florets has been a most challenging color scheme for my eyes. I should have picked a pink within the “light” shades instead of two medium tone colors. Oh, well, I am nearly done with it and another month for the border will find me entering the fair to get a purple ribbon. I sure hope my adopted grand daughter loves it. She is a first year college student.
The giving moment! Gifting the afghan to my adopted college student. It was so much fun.
This journal entry is for September and yes, I am delayed in entry. We already had the “give-away” day with Dierra. My poor hubby always wants to call her Deedra, because he knew a girl named that in hight school. She absolutely loved her “special order, custom made” afghan. It was the highlight of the month to finish the blanket and give it to her. The feeling of love and pride and happiness as she accepted my hugs and love for this one time complete stranger was incredible.
In May when I was shopping for yarn, this beautiful check out lady asked me waht I was doing with all that yarn. I said, “crochet.” “Oh, I love things crocheted!” She stated. Then, “do you ever take orders?’ Of course, I replied, I would love to take orders if I had any. We exchanged phone numbers.
And the rest is history… She and I had a few text messages in the next two months and she “ordered” her blanket. And I began praying for her. My heart is so full for having this experience of sharing my talent with a young lady that has such a beautiful heart and was not afraid to ask.
I am reminded of the verse in Matthew from the sermon on the Mount where Jesus says, “Ask and it shall be given to you.” I think often about Dierra and how God loves us more than I loved her. God knows us so much more completely than I could ever know her. God wants to give to us what we ask of Him, more than I could ever enjoy giving to her.
Thank you Dierra for giving me the chance to love and share and give what you asked for. Thank you Lord, for giving me Dierra and so many others to love and care for. Thank you Lord for giving me what I asked for: someone to crochet something beautiful for. I was so much fun!
Luke 6:38 “Give and it shall be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom (heart). For with the same measure that you measure, it will be measured back to you.” The feeling of full heart is so amazing when we give something away.
My little grand daughter decided to walk after seeing another little girl in her home school coop toddler room walking. The other little girl was sharing toys and handing out this and that to other kids. Funny how that motivated her to want to walk and “give” things away! Indeed, she spent one hour while I was there one day finding the pieces of some little building toy (hash tag building blocks) and helping me make a cube. It’s great to give.
Now if I could just teach my dog to let go of his toy so I can toss it for him. He’s still a little stubborn about that.
Five little guys entered my life last weekend. We received a box full of toes one evening from a friend. Our population of mouse hunters on the farm has dwindled to one. When I found a dead critter in my watering can, I was a bit upset. So it was time to begin again with some new feline busy bodies.
Five little furry kittens all licking mittens were cuddling in a box, One jumped up to catch a string, and the others followed to see this thing, and there were no more kittens in the box!
Naming the little guys might be easier said than done. First of all I can’t use any magicians nor cats from famous books, because my husband can’t even say “Bagheera“ correctly and that is the black panther from “Jungle Book” in case you did not know either. Famous people with the name Black doesn’t work as I don’t like people names for pets. Calling my cat “Clint” just seems weird (Clint Black). The most famous Black scientist that I could think of was George Washington Carver, Percy Julian and that doesn’t match either. On we go, we’ll just be generic and call the black cat, Blackly!
Next most obvious is Stripes. Yep, The pinstriped tiger grey kitty does not look like a tiger to me. Just Stripes! That would do, let’s just be obvious..Then there is Spots. The only one that when looking down on them in the food dish, has spots. Yep, let’s be exact. However, the next two are a little less conspicuous. Boots has legs that look like lace-ups or buckles on them. Socks is black on the back, but all white paws and legs like a sport sock that goes up to the knee.
Boots, Socks, Stripes, Spots, and Blackly
Finding the escape artist is now part of my daily routine until we get the kittens to the vet and are ready to let them be outside. Magic tricks are not my favorite television watching past time. I never see the “trick” and miss the whole point of the act. So considering myself a magic act is kind of funny. But a cat can never resist a string. So that’s the devise that I use to trick them into coming back into the room. I know that they are ready for some more roaming space.
The other morning I had to have reminder that the dog was sleeping next door in the old house to escape the thunderstorm. My hubby felt sorry from him and gave him a rug to sleep on. We really need a garage or back porch inclosed for the old boy. Charlie is nine or ten now and getting more and more scaredy-cat than ever. I think he would benefit from some pheromone treatment for sure.
And of other boxes. We were not able to help my daughter and her family move into their new house as much as we thought we would. Yes we did hlep with the kids and some packing up before hand. But my hubby ended up with a herniated disc from trying to lift the cast iron old wood cook stove. It was in the Old, old house two doors east of us. They ended up using a rope and a tractor and a skid-loader to get it out of the way. Who knew that the thing was so heavy?
Little kids are just about as curious as kittens. They just can’t resist getting into what is not theirs. Or being destructive with toys that they do not understand (age inappropriateness). We found so many little mix-ups with the toy containers. I am still trying to et things put away again. Some things will get hidden for the next visit. Just not dealing with toys out of age range and the busy mess. Uff dah.
One afternoon was spent cleaning the weeds out of the hydrant flower bed. The bug bites were so numerous, I spend the next 24 hours in sick mode. They really do make me feel like I have the flu. The body aches and the fatigue are more than I can handle. But then I just thought about my poor husband’s herniated disc, and let that sympathetic nausea tell me that I was okay. Today is better but now the humidity and the lawn mowing “fresh cut grass” smell is bothering my asthma. So truly if it’s not one thing it’s another.
I lost two beautiful plants in the greenhouse over the last week. Two of them were ivy types. And they had been looking so beautiful. What a bummer. Sometimes I think I should give up on plants. I do the easy ones for the most part and even then, they end up dead just out of the blue.
The evening after a day with the grand kids often has me ready to go straight home and find the bath tub for a good soak. There is a very good reason why one’s ability to bear children happens during youth. The energy drains much faster when the cup is only half full even at the beginning of the day. So my thought process about going to see the falls was rather surprising.
We live in a climate that often gives us four seasons in less than a weeks time. And averaging the moth into tempreature zones I often wonder what season it will be this week. Dressing for winter at 8 a.m., spring at noon, and summer at three in the afternoon is rather hard to accomplish if I am not going to be home. So I was rather glad that the weather stayed a bit cooler for the whole day. And we decided to go walk the falls and smell the acrid spray of water mist.
First daffodil bloom of the year. The day we cleaned all the huge cottonwood leaves off this flower bed the greeneay shot up three or four inches. Of course that night it was 32 degrees again.
Day after day the spring has wrapped up a dry fabric across the landscape. The grass at home seems nonexistent. Patches of dirt are just spreading out like burnt pieces of toast all across the acreage. the crunch beneath my feet makes me think I should not even be walking there. It was nice to walk on a sidewalk flanked by actual lawn the evenibg that we walked at the falls park.
Kona had his scheduled spa day at the doggie daycare. I thought sure he would be tired, but instead he seemed so wound up when we arrived home. Like we got someone else’s dog. Maybe he just gets the zoomees after daycare because he had to be in the crate napping so often. His energy level has been pretty consistent and I still love that he sleeps so well all night long.
Kona sporting his new haircut. Not really new just fresh, as he gets the same puppy cut every time.
The water falls were mild for this time of year. I think even the up river snow fall has been way below average. I was trying to remember the last time we got rain that was more than a spit. Last Jjune or July we may have received an half inch at one spirt.
A whole week later: And now it is the day after once again. I feel like my ability to focus on thought and writing has gone with the wind. The dust clouds scared the rain away once again. I spent the day with the kiddos yesterday. It’s been a whole week since my entry beginnings..
I tried picking up a book about Mycroft Holmes the brother of Sherlock Holmes. After finishing the “Complete Collection” I really should try a different route of thought. The book that I chose was so scatter brained. For lack of concentration I did fall asleep. So for that purpose, it worked. But it’s daytime that lacks for entertainment. And I really should not watch videos of the grand kids for hours on end.
This morning I got to thinking about my dearly departed mom-in-law again. Doing laundry, I was reminded about her love for ironing. Was she truly one of those “smooth out the wrinkles” kind of person? How often in our lives were we part of her attempt to make smooth the rough patches?
There are three small travel irons now taking up space in my house. Who uses such a thing? They are a testament to how many trips they took. Of course the were benevolence trips. Because of their proximity to sibling relationship, that’s how they went. Though some trips were taken on their own funds, many of the cruises and such were group outings. I think of the other siblings and how they must have felt about this trio of travelers. Is there jealousy wat fueled some of the wrinkles in the relationships?
Unfortunately, I can also think of ways in which there were road blocks put up. But because we are all in a trying to get along phase in life, perhaps it’s best to leave the road construction season to the history books and not turn back the pages that cause strife.
Blanket on the left is the Freyja pattern from a pattern designer that I follow. The yarn on the right is for the Wild Things / thin flowers continuous blanket throw for a high school senior. Both are mosaic crochet patterns
My yarn came for a commission project. First the Freyja blanket needs to be finished. I really do like it just not fancy about these colors, so it will likely be another give away!
And one last night on the mishaps of the blind, not lame, and not dumb. Last night my allergies reached their spring maximum. My sinus migraines are requiring every medicine that I can possible take for this pollenating tree season. So while I love spring and it’s blooming nature, I am quite miserable and hope that this writing and my crochet work does not reflect this wrinkled up dress shirt moment in my life!
We recently rekindled our friendship with a couple that we spent much time with over two decades ago. Their young one has just come home from a mission trip to Africa and got engaged. Empty Nest Syndrome is real for most mothers even if the child still lives at home going to community college! Funny how after two decades visiting picks up like it never left off! You can’t make “old” friends. They come so naturally.
Keeping the home fire burning is one of the oddest things that we say of the parent that is staying home. It comes from the homestead era. Yet today, we have no reason to stoke the stove to keep the coffee kettle warm or to keep the stew pot simmering for supper. Crockpot and instant-pot are the best wonders of the new kitchen today! Yet I can honestly say that this is what I do all the time. I keep the home “fire” burning in the most relevant way possible.
Picture on the left is the Hibiscus cherry blossom chocolate for our zone, but still in the planter for another year until I decide where to put it. Center is the gladiolas that needed a tomato cage for support. I missed the pretty moment for pictures. Right is the one lily that is blooming after all this watering the same plant is in four different places in the yard.
My home “fire” is a list of “honey-do’s” that is a mile long. Right now there are about five or six major projects that need to get done fairly soon. Then there is the long term hope to get done this fall list. Along with the perhaps maybe before winter list. My honey says the list aught to be in the fire so that he can rest when he is at home. Without something to do we might get bored with each other. Haha.
Stay at home mom often means a mom that has a mini-van and runs her children all over town to their many lessons and sports events. Well on Tuesday I took full advantage of that and asked my daughter to run the dog to his grooming session while she was about with the eldest child to dance camp. Yes, I know that is probably asking too much. So I called the groomer and asked if he could be during the noon run time so that she did not have to go twice. It worked out okay. And then my daughter says, “ I met the person who does the mobile pet groom truck at church a while ago.” Ahh. Yes less trips would be good.
Constant commotion would be a difficult thing for anyone to handle if you aren’t use to it. Like my mother some twenty years past any child being at home to all of us taking turns staying with her. It was the week that two little kids and a doggie were there that she decided it was time to just sell the house and move into the assisted living facility. Sometimes peace and quiet is good. Until it becomes miserable and you just wish some excitement would happen. And then it does, and it’s the fall or something that makes your parents require more aid than you all can give.
What does a mother stand for-most if her meals because the minute she sits down something happens. Right when the pots about to boil for the noodles, the child jumps off the back of the sofa and lands on the other hiding under the cushion. Ouch! and a whole lot of commotion happens quite quickly.
Peace and quiet in a house full of preschoolers means someone is doing something they should not be doing! Yep. There is never a dull moment in home where little ones are learning their way into child hood. Sharp cries, sharp edges, sharp corners, sharp pavement, sharp knocks of all sorts need attention right away..
Just the othewhile attending to one child with a cut lip, mama looked over to see the baby in the high chair was double fisting her cereal into her mouth. She doesn’t know how to use the spoon rightly so the carrot applesauce cereal was up and down both arms, all over the face and down the front. Fourth child is pretty sure “a child could starve around here” with all these distractions from my feeding time! She was quite happy the bowl had been left on the high chair tray. What about having children is NOT messy? Even sleeping at night is rare!
I finished my “Entrelac Stitch” Shrug. It is so comfy! I had to redo the arm hole because it was a little to large. But otherwise I am pleased.
The weather has turned hot, but nothing like the high desert or Arizona. The sticky humidity is the worst. The other day I could hardly breathe outside. So I have been doing my yard work early in the day. Staying inside most of the hot part of the day. The cooling towel was pulled out of the fridge for a little bit of greenhouse work Thursday. I am trying to be very consistent with my watering. There are still a few plants that need attention so that always has me happy to plant something.
Meanwhile the AC for the house quit the other day. It has been a few years since it concerned us. So the repair man was here Friday. We had to run the air really cold just to keep the fan motor running. Afterwards I could finally turn the temperature up to a more manageable coolness. The temperature shock is too much for me. Finished the Bridge garden landscape. Only thing left is to trim off the cardboard pieces and tuck them around the plants for weed barrier. Oh, and Kona is sporting some new harness and leashes. Happy One Year Old little buddy! Kind of missed the actual birth date, but he looks good in orange and blue!
On the left, the Bridge garden in need of the trim on the cardboard yet, but looking good. And Kona sporting his new vest and leash on the right.
It’s time to move on to the next project. Not sure what exactly that is, however today we cleaned up the Butterfly garden. Now I am recovering from the weed “burn” on my arms and inside for a rest. We spend the day at our local county fair yesterday. Grand kids and all got to enjoy some bad fair food and the 4-H displays. That’s about all the news for now. We are watching the Olympics some. And I found the perfect verse in Ecclesiastes for the occasion.
Ecclesiastes 7: 8, “Better is the end of a thing than its beginning, and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit.” But might I add that without beginning there is no finish. And I would agree that the humble are far more enjoyable to watch than the proud.
Today’s hymn study is “At the Cross” by Isaac Watts. Some one such as I could have no idea what it means to grasp the Cross as the only hope in this life. Yet I must embrace this one and only Hope for it is the only way to remove the burden that weighs down my heart for those whom I love and perhaps NOW I can be happy all the day for Christ truly is the only true weight lifter in this life I live.
Coping with going blind often has its challenges that lead me to have nightmares that I do not understand. Sometimes having to be a statue in the midst of the moving storm about me is the best option for navigating the day. Like the recent Christmas during the summertime. The constant ebb and flow of the people that are there often lead to to feeling much like a log jam on the river as it heads to the sawmill!
Preparing for life changes has led me to learning how to “give up” things that drain my energy. Being the sit still person in the crowd use to make me feel like I was alone in the crowd. There are moments when I feel perhaps the Lord is rather teaching me how to be the lighthouse on the rocks for others. A person to come to who will listen and empathize and give the Hope of Jesus into their lives.
Then there is night. Where I have this recurring dream. One in which I am standing amidst a pile of logs that need to be stacked. Organized into size appropriate piles. Stacked neatly and ready for use. I feel lost. I feel overwhelmed. I feel like the whole lot will crash about me once again and I will never escape the never ending pile. No matter which way I turn the logs are all in a jam.
Psalm 61 is a prayer from the depths of the pit. So is Psalm 42. But today all I can thing is “How long? O God? How long?” My very soul is weary and sad. I am utterly disheartened and lost.
Depresson is settling in again. The nightmares about stacking logs of all various kinds and sizes have returned. Along with the constant over riding feeling of anger at everything. The headaches are back. The sleepless nights. The old enemies are here to ruin me.
Trying to do anything is like working with an elephant on my chest, a bear on my back, an alligator in my brain, and a Tasmanian Devil running circles about me and a hyena laughing constantly in my ear. The high pitch whistle of the dryer does not help any of these things.
Kona is just a week away from being one year old. His therapeutic nature is thriving. He is becoming such a good boy!
My dogs did not make me happy. They became more and more work. And they wake me up out of my sleep just when I finally get some. They bark at nothing just to irritate me. Charlie does not make me smile when he refuses to even come when called. Honey rolled in so much awful stench this previous month that we shaved her to nothing and then I didn’t even want to look at her. Skinny doodle is not pleasing to my eyes at all. (Well she is gone now.) Kona has decided to keep getting into things just to get bad attention and then never gets any good play time. *note the whole dynamic of my household is much calmer without a hyper golden doodle. Resolve that we will never have a hybrid man made disaster dog again. And so I decided to re-home Kona. Only to realize that it was Honey that had to go.
Life feels so hopeless right now. Food is not even fun anymore. It is so much work to cook when the eyesight is not there for the recipes. I get so dizzy that the turning around in circles is awful.
Becoming… use to be about someone’s beauty…. We would say “oh, she is so becoming!” Well, there are days looking in the mirror is avoided. I don’t find myself so very becoming. Especially when…
Becoming blind…
My two grand daughter’s becoming good little artist at their activity table.
Going to my daughter’s to help only lends to making me feel more helpless than ever. The meal prep is impossible for me to help. The house is so kid cluttered that it is a nightmare for a blind person. All of her chairs are so uncomfortable for me that it does no good to go to the chiropractor just to have my tailbone go out by the end of the day. My enjoyment in going to “watch” kiddos is hampered by the fact that the house is so dark I rarely can really “see” them anyways.
God, how long? Do I have to keep trying to do what fails and does not bring me joy? How long do I have to keep pretending that happiness is something that can be grasped. My life feels like a grasping after the wind. My hands want to hold water that satisfies and my cup is empty.
Must the nightmares go on? I am standing within a stack of logs that need to fed into the stove. Some of them are the wrong size and only let the stove billow out smoke while I try to push the logs into it. Some of the pieces can be pulled out and rearranged to fit properly. But many of them are ashen and on fire themselves. I sweat and scream as I try to desperately get the logs back into the hot stove. My eyes are burning with sweat and tears. My lungs are burning from the smoke. Soon my lack of air makes me pass out and my empty cries wake me up to the “real world” where I am still going blind. Still can’t find my way out of the stack of logs and still can’t figure out which way is the bathroom without using my hands to tell me where I am.
How long O God?
Must the nightmares go on? I am standing in a long narrow hallway where there are log stacks on either side of me. Somewhere near both ends the wall of logs has fallen. I am desperately trying to put the stack back so that it will remain upright. Suddenly I see my family in the chasm below and while I stand with one leg on either side of the pile of logs, they begin to fall. I begin to fall. I scream at them to get out of the falling timbers and begin crashing to the ground. The logs are hitting me everywhere. My head, my back, my arms and legs are getting pinned by the logs. I am screaming and still falling. Suddenly I wake in pool of sweat and try to find the bathroom nightlight. It has moved again out of my line of view and I panic as I try to put it into my eyesight.
How long O God?
Until my eyesight closes in and what will be the last thing that my eyes will make out for my memory to see? Why must I have such a vivid imagination and the nightmares keep me up at night?
MONDAY MORNING
This morning I am pulling the log out of my own eye. Yesterday I experienced something emotionally that made me feel literally sick to my stomach. I will try to tell the story as briefly as possible.
While I was away and at church with my mother and sister’s family, I had asked a neighbor to care for my puppy. I forgot that perhaps my daughter would have been available. It probably would have been all avoided otherwise. And of course this neighbor had an eventful day in an of her own. Meanwhile, she and a friend did come over and proceed to help themselves to some of the plants in the greenhouse. All good I had said they could. When I realized however that the beautiful propegation “mother” plants in the clay pots had been removed. I began, my emotional being was scarred. First experience for me was trying to figure out how to handle this. And then I began to recall all the things that my mother has been through this past month. Especially her wondering where something was that we had removed from her house. My remorse and full emotional impact of evertyhing that has occurred flooded through my mind.
Doily on left made by my mother’s Aunt Gertrude. Two of the many white milk glass dishes. The china “ash tray” that was in my mother’s grandma‘s collection.
My mother’s sense of abandonment, her feelings that some are treating her roughly, and her confusion about why they won’t let her have her things if she wants them. Most people do not understand the work involved in propagation of pelargoniums or geraniums. It is a long wintering project of mine that gives me something to do and to get out of my lazy crochet chair. The value of the plants to me is more than five of ten dollars. Let alone a mother plant that has been in the same giant clay pot (which itself is spendy). The whole weight of my mother’s heart seemed pressed upon me and they care of her emotional well being was heavy upon my own heart.
While my mother had some strokes and lost some short term memory connections for cooking and feeding herself meals, the long term memory about things and even the family genealogy and history is very strong. And she still knows the heart of her children sometimes better than they know themselves.
How can I express to my siblings that she knows who has disrespected her life work. She knows who honors the value of each item that she worked hard for all of those years. She was a lowly bank teller, and budgeted for her every spending penny. These were her things and she has the right to them all. Anyone who thinks that “out of sight” is “out of mind” on the elderly is fooling themselves. Long term care is often for those whose long term memory is still quite vivid.
And it’s time for a fruits of the Spirit checkup. While I am becoming more and more like my parents as I grow older. The real question is -Am I becoming like Christ?
Love… sitting at the table with my older sister we made the conclusion that our marriages are truly based on love. There is no score keeping or reward system. We do for each other (our spouses and selves) what we can out of LOVE. Joy can be found if you pick up the rocks that are often in the way. Sometimes the joy is found under the the toughest search. But if we lift up the leaves on the bushes, the berries are there. Peace often eludes me for sleep. But sometimes a night without air in the airbed reminds you just how peaceful and comfortable your own bed is. When patience is no longer part of how we handle the over flowing cup of life, it’s time to step back empty out the “busy” and take more time for Jesus one on one time. Gentleness can return to our normal conversation language when we fill up with the right stuff! Goodness is all around us. Even when the physical buildings and bodies we watch are crumbling down, it’s the indwelling Spirit that shines forth. Faithfulness is so hard to grasp when life seems to close down on me with all of it’s ugliness and suffering. But God is ever faithful and supplies all of our needs in Christ Jesus. Meekness is not something anyone knows thses days. I pray that God will allow me to use the wisdom and insights that He gives me with meekness that empowers others to Hope in Jesus also. Self control is lost among all of the bitterness and strife that people through away at each other’s feet. If only we can hold our tongues when those edges creep in and learn to hand our trials over to the Savior instead of lashing out at other’s like the venomous being that so easily deceives.
Lord, Help me to do more things in my life by heart… like playing the piano by heart. When it feels so natural to grab some lady by the hand in the nursing facility and say, “Come let’s play piano together.” And it is so natural to play piano by heart. Loving, talking, and showing Jesus to others by heart. Let it become natural for me to share my insights and the reason for the hope that lies within me.
I Chronicle 29:20 “then David said to the assembly, ‘Bless the Lord your God’ and all the assembly blessed the Lord, the God of their fathers, and bowed their heads and paid homage to the Lord God, and their king.”
The other day we came home from our day away, and my dear hubby pointed out these poor little flowers. Take a look at the yellow daffodils in the butterfly garden bed. We planted the bulbs two years ago along the edge of the wings. And this year the weather was so warm the first few weeks of March, that the green shoots came forth. Like some long awaited resurrection day, I thought it was so appropriate that they bloomed the day after Easter.
Bowing their heads to pay homage to the creator, the little blooms seemed to declare, “Oh Lord God thank you for this splendid day. Thank you for giving us air to breathe. Thank you for the warm soil, the cold wind, the moisture in rain and snow. Thank You Lord.” Really now, how could I blame them for choosing such a cold and windy day for bursting forth in color and song to the Great Creator!
Not many days ago I heard a message about being on resurrection ground. Rather than looking at the cemetery as a place where the dead are buried, we should consider the fact that there are many brothers and sisters there waiting to be resurrected. Thus we are standing on resurrection ground. It gave me a whole new thought about being out there placing flowers every spring.
How does this translate into my daily duties? Laundry, cleaning floors, dishes, and house up keep is so very tedious and not fun for me. Yesterday I tried to listen to Rich Mullins music while working only to get irritable and turn off the music. There I times that I think about the days that the music bubbled up inside of me like a spring. And sometimes like Old Faithful it would come gushing forth. I just could not stop the new song from happening. I too am a poet and song writer. The words and music just come. But when there is no outlet, no one to share it with, it begins to die off. Like a fruit tree that never gets pruned, eventually the weight of the fruit breaks the branches and opens the tree up for disease and then it dies.
That’s how I feel. Like a broken down tree over laden with rotting fruit on the ground all around me. The trees bow their heads in the strong winds. Perhaps it’s time to be uprooted once again and planted anew by the springs of living water.
Today is pack up and clean up and final preparations for being gone from home for the next week. So yes, I feel like an uprooted plant. All out of the normal. My greenhouse duties are so pleasant for me. I simply did not want to leave. I actually took a couple of phone calls while in the dome. Back at the house the laundry is moved and the body nourished. I just wish I had the energy that I use to have. Packing for the week might be a laundry basket full of clothes instead of a suitcase. It’s easier.
