July 22, 2010

Just Peachy

On our way home last week,
we picked up four huge boxes of Georgia peaches.
They were just too good to pass up -
and way too pretty not to photograph...
Especially in Grandma's antique pottery bowl,
cracks, chips, and all.

So I enjoyed the beauty while it lasted,
and then got serious.

After a little blanching,
a little peeling,
and so on...

Out they came;
warm, golden - tucked away for a far distant Winter.

Just three-and-a-half boxes to go...

And so the canning season begins.

July 20, 2010

I'm Back


Well, we had a lovely week.

Enjoying the harbor view.
The fishing.
The dolphins.
The walks along the beach and down the pier.

Having "tea" with a niece I don't get to see
anywhere near often enough.


Watching the nephews go skim-boarding.

At seven and nine,
I'd say they are amazingly good...

And getting to visit my wonderful grandparents.
Grandma is half-way through her chemo treatments
and going pretty strong.
We are really thanking the Lord for that.


It's good to be back.

July 8, 2010

seeing the big picture

It's been a really rough week for our family;
losing our dog was only part of it -
but this past year for me has been all about looking
beyond the pain of the moment,
and trusting God for the big picture.
It's definitely the lesson He has been teaching me;
knowing that now I see through a glass darkly;
but someday I'll understand.

"Therefore we do not lose heart.
Even though our outward man is perishing,
yet the inward man is being renewed
day by day.
For our light affliction,
which is but for a moment,
is working in 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."

II Corinthians 4:16-18

Tonight we're packing,
and early tomorrow morning we'll be heading out
to visit our family south of us.
There might be a picture or two now and then;
but it's going to be more quiet here than usual.

See you all in two weeks!

July 5, 2010

Goodbye Polar Bear

Just as a warning,
this is probably going to make you cry;
it makes me cry writing it.

We were concerned as usual for our other dogs and
the expected problems they have with July 4th,
and all of the noise and flashing that they hate so much
that seems to be going on all around us.
(We can see four or five professional shows from our house,
and we feel so bad about the things we lit off;
some of which were louder than usual.)
But we knew they were safe hiding in the barn,
we knew they would be okay.
We should have worried more about our Haggai.

He has often been frightened during thunderstorms,
and occasionally climbed the fence to escape;
but he hadn't done that for awhile.
So we were pretty worried when we couldn't
find him this morning.
Mom and I drove around the block, calling for him.

We found him about a mile away,
but the part of him we all loved best was gone.
A car had gotten him.

We're still very much in denial that our polar bear isn't here.
He was such a calm, gentle, faithful guy.
He humbly protected and guarded our sheep for
about five years, and filled a role that can never be replaced.
We'll never forget his big brown eyes,
his unflinching stare,
his handshake.
He was so huge, so quiet,
so big and brave;
and yet so vulnerable.

Dad buried on him on a little rise between the
woods and the pasture.
A place where his sheep often come to rest;
right in the heart of the land he watched so well.

We miss you bud.

July 2, 2010

having a hay day



We've had some hay-baling going on around here.

It's about time.
We've had so much rain this year;
we're a little behind schedule.
I like to look at it with the perspective that the
baby red-winged black birds had plenty of time
to grow up, and leave their nests.
It's one of the saddest days of Summer to see
momma and daddy birds looking for their babies
that disappeared under the hay cutter.

I'm happy that wasn't this year;
but I'm keeping that sentiment to myself.
Men don't always think that way...

Patchwork.

We're pretty grateful for our handy hay elevator.
I remember back when Dad had to throw each
bale up to the loft by hand.
Now, Joe puts it on off the wagon...

and Dad receives it at the top to stack.
That dusty old hayloft brings back the memories...
Hide-and-seek, newborn kittens, cobwebs, and clover smells.

I somehow got out of helping this time;
I weeded my ginormous corn patch instead...
The green beans are starting to twine their way around
the corn stalks
and we're ready to plant the third sister -
some pumpkins and squash.
But I have to get those pesky weeds out first.

Ever heard of the corn needing to be
knee-high by the fourth of July?

We're ahead of schedule.

This is just a portion of the weeds that I removed today.
If you're not impressed...

Huck was.
(can't you tell?)

And then he got tired just thinking about it.

June 29, 2010

A new decade begins...

I'll admit to being slightly sentimental.
I'm slow; methodical; deliberate.
I've never liked the word 'forget',
and use a great amount of energy determining not to.
I've kept a little mental scrapbook of my life to this point;
the times when Creation is especially beautiful,
and God is especially good;
the moments of particular pains and joys;
- beginnings and endings -
they're all so distinct for me.
They're carefully recorded, treasured, and remembered,
and stretched for all they're worth.
We only have so short a time here,
and even the little things,
like a walk with the dogs, or a chocolate milkshake,
seem meant to be savored.

Now I find myself, still up, early, early,
reminiscing, reveling in retrospection,
as I'm prone to do -
because today marks the end of my twentieth year.
And now I can claim the title;
Twenty.
The oldest I've been yet.

I've never liked endings of any sort;
and I'll admit I'm dwelling long on this one.

Didn't I just turn 13 last week?

On one hand it seemed to go so quickly,
just a moment, here and gone.
And yet,
I marvel that the Lord managed to pack so many lessons
into such a seemingly short amount of time.
That's where the sense of years begins;
not in the hours passed,
but the growth, the revelations,
the steady process of sanctification;
the numberless shows of Faithfulness and Providence
from the Lord - again and again.
That's where the years become real.

Seven very long, very full years.
It's been an eternity.

On one of those distant days,
my wise Mother handed me a book:
Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss.
And quoting the wise mother portrayed therein,
she reminded me that:
"my character would be essentially formed by the
time I reached my twentieth year..."
She told me how important those years would be;
and despite the fact I that I felt I had all of the
time in the world at that moment,
I did take it to heart.

And that day is already here.

And on this day, despite a thirteen-year-old's expectations,
what stands out most is that
I haven't "arrived," I'm not anywhere near "finished."
If I've learned anything in twenty years -
it is that I'm nothing on my own,
that His strength is made perfect in weakness,
that coming to the end of myself -
is the best possible place to be.
That God does work all things together for good
for those that love Him.
It hasn't all been easy by any means,
but there isn't a single thing I would change,
not a single detour or bypass I could ask for.
He has used it all;
and perfectly so.

His mercies are new every morning.

Here at the end of them -
all I can do is simply thank Him for each
undeserved moment these twenty years are made of.
And ask for an extra measure of grace as I begin
my next decade.

Because it really begins in about an hour...

June 26, 2010

a hissy fit

Please witness the amazing effect our dear Spencer has
on this poor little gray cat.

Nickle really is a sweetie most of the time;
but not when Spencer is goofing off and acting spastic.
She hates that.



Sorry, you missed the part where she howled and jumped
on his head... I felt that I had to intervene at that point.
Spencer thought it was hilarious.
Silly dog.