Into the Fog

Late this morning I took two small boys outside to enjoy the sunshine and fair weather. It wasn't exactly "warm" but it was nice and the little guys enjoyed running around. They got out the toy lawn mower and a little plastic wagon, ran in and out of "Hannah's Place," and helped me pick up sticks in the yard. It really was a gorgeous morning.

We spent close to an hour outside before I dragged the boys back inside for lunch. They would have preferred to stay outside, but I knew if the girls came home before we went in, lunch might never happen. I secretly planned to take the girls out after the boys went down for a nap. We ate lunch, picked up toys, and read a couple of stories from "James' Harriot's Treasury for Children, and I settled the girls down to "rest" for a few minutes."

At about 2 o'clock my sister arrived to take Mom out to see my brother, and she asked about the fog outside. I thought it was smoke from a fire I seen in the orchard. We went ouside to find the temperature had dropped drastically and every puddle in the yard and surrounding area was emitting clouds of vapor. I tried to take a picture of the cold but that is somewhat hard to do.

In spite of the cold, I found the scene quite pretty. We donned mittens and zipped up our jackets. The girls ran about the yard laughing and calling out to each other. They tried out the swings, took a run around the barn, and checked out "Hannah's Place." I picked up a second wheelbarrow full of sticks, snapped some pictures, and when the boys woke up, we took them back outside too.

Beauty Out of Splashes

Mud is not pretty and neither are stagnant puddles of water, however, the water is not yet stinky and I found the puddle rather pretty this morning.

Our golden morning quickly turned silver as the sun crept over the horizon. The grass shimmered wearing a thin layer of frost which burned away as soon as the sun's rays hit. Yes, a beautiful morning, naked apple trees reflected on the water, willow branches golden in the morning sun.

We were on our way out to wait for the school bus... one of those hidden gifts I must remember to record... while the sun was lighting up the world. Early morning light angles... I must remember to wake up early and venture outside even when there is no bus coming down the hill...

How many gifts do I miss because I am not diligent in the hunt?

"But from there you will seek the LORD your God, and you will find Him if you seek Him with all your heart and with all your soul." Deut. 4:29

L is for Lettuce

L is for lettuce, in this case Romaine.

I stopped buying iceberg lettuce when I heard it had absolutely no nutritional value, though I'm not quite sure I believe it. Tonight we had cucumbers, yellow bell peppers, and a few grape tomatoes on our salad, and there were sweet red onions on the table along with Romano cheese.

When I grow lettuce for salads, I plant red and green leaf lettuce and spinach. It goes directly from the garden into my salad, unless, of course, I make my garden under the wires where the birds like to perch... Blech! In that case I forgo the homegrown stuff and decide to find a different place to acquire my lettuce.

Pass the Cracked Pepper Ranch, please. Croutons? No thank you. Not this time. How about you?

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Muddy Boots

In the dirt, in the messes of life, there is cause to stop and thank God; toys scattered across the rug, crumbs on the floor, puddles in the driveway, and muddy boots. God sent the rain last night and Andrew wore his rain boots this morning. What fun are rubber boots without puddles? And where would be the puddles without the rain?

Yesterday was not one of my better days. I let anger and frustration get the better of me when I know deep inside there is a better way. In my distress I did not call out to the Lord, instead I let my emotions blind me to His grace and the gifts He gives.

I went upstairs to bed early, took my Bible, my gratitude journal, and my book. I crawled between the covers well before my children returned home from the evening church service. It was quiet and as I read the book, the Lord spoke to my heart.

"In this wilderness, I keep circling back to this: I am blind to joy's well every time I really don't want it. The well is always there. I choose not to see it. Don't I really want joy? Don't I really want the fullest life? For all my yearning for joy, longing for joy, begging for joy- is the bald truth that I prefer the empty dark. " (p. 130 One Thousand Gifts)

"You have to want to see the well before you can drink from it." (p. 131)

I thought I was behind in my reading, but according to God's schedule I was right where He wanted me to be. He knew and He had words to speak to my heart. He puts the puddles in my life, the obstacles, the hard eucharisteo. I am to trust that He knows, that there is a well of grace nearby, and I am to give thanks.

395. Mud puddles
396. Rubber boots
397. Little boys

The Holy Experience

Behold...

"Behold, God is great, and we do not know Him; Nor can the number of His years be discovered. For He draws up drops of water, Which distill as rain from the mist, Which the clouds drop down And pour abundantly on man."
Job 36:26-28

We went out to the bus stop in the fog Friday morning. Dainty drops of water clung to last year's unpulled weeds. Please don't ask why there is burdock growing in my garden. I have never been able to keep up and when my gardeners moved out, the weeds moved in. I choose to be thankful for burdock instead of grumble. It takes such wonderful photographs, don't you think?

The girls and Andrew hopped and chased about the yard and driveway until the school bus came over the hill and carried the girls off to Universal Pre-Kindergarten and Andrew asking where his sister went. They've climbed on the bus every day since September and he's just now thinking this shouldn't be.

Tomorrow is Sunday, our day of rest, but my house isn't clean. The floors need vacuuming and washing, and my dust cloth has forgotten to do it's job, but the dishes are washed, the groceries are put away, and I caught up on a little bit of sleep this afternoon. Maybe I should toss that last load of laundry in the dryer and fold the one which waits... The day is almost done.

The Garden Gate

It is probably a good idea for all toddler "flowers" to stay supervised within the house. However, one "small planting" does not see it this way and so we have installed the "Garden Gate." Though my mother does not appreciate its beauty and functionality, I find it quite attractive. Ivy now refers to the kitchen as an "adults only zone," and Vinegar cannot let himself out the back door when I am otherwise occupied. I am happy.

It's been another busy week here in the garden. There is a meatloaf in the oven and I am gearing up for the race through the weekend starting with Ladies Breakfast at a local diner tomorrow morning at 8 am, followed by haircuts for Hannah and me, and possibly a little grocery shopping. On your mark, get set, GO!

Fun in the Flood

If there must be a large puddle in the backyard, we could at least find a boat or two to sail. That is exactly what Hannah and Em decided to do this afternoon. Hannah was smart about it and tied a couple of strings on the boats this year. Of course, she was the one who had to wade out and get them a few years back. (See here.) Em found sailing to be great fun and I was glad to have purchased a small pair of rain boots so she could get close to the water. Oh what fun we are going to have while the water lasts! (I wonder if little boys like sailing boats as much as little girls?)

K is for Kodak

K is for Kodak. (I figured "why not?" after all, I posted on Xerox last time around.)

I've not taken the time to look up the history of George Eastman and his Kodak Company this evening, instead I am going by memory. I recall reading once upon a time that George created the name "Kodak," though I can not recall how or why.

The Eastman Kodak company was the "other place" everyone's father worked when I was a child. (The first being Xerox.) My father was once offered a job there but turned it down because he was tired of sitting behind a desk. Kodak is one of the companies that made Rochester, NY famous and it is still (I think) a big part of what Rochester is. (What exactly that is, I am not sure...)

Anyway, even if the Kodak Company went world- wide, the George Eastman House remains in Rochester. The gardens are beautiful, as is the interior of the mansion. I have been inside just once as admission is rather expensive. Last time we opted to enjoy touring the outside gardens instead.

And, last of all, I found it fun that my son did a little graphic design work for Kodak when he worked for a local company. One here and one here.

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What Makes a House A Home?

This spring we embark on a new adventure, one that none of us look forward to. It involves a childhood home, an elderly mom, a lot of big decisions, and the end of an era. There are sure to be tears involved, because not one of us can look at the house without seeing Dad everywhere, and none of us can let it go without feeling a stab of grief for Mom, who is no longer really able to make the tough choices or do the physical labor involved in the task.
This has been home for our entire lives and part of it will always be. The memories are there, held inside the walls of a tiny house on Mohawk Street, floating through the yards, both front and back, and spreading out into the streets where we played with our friends as children. For fifty-five years it has been "The Plotzker's House" and for nearly thirty years we've called it "Grandma and Grandpa's." I find it difficult to imagine it with any other name.
I listened to my mother's cousin speak at his father's memorial service last week. He talked of cleaning out his parent's house and it struck me how this is most often a job left to the children. There was a certain comfort in knowing we are not alone. We will sort through belongings with love and tenderness, make repairs with utmost respect, and grieve the loss. Part of me is ready to let go and another part is already trying to hold on.
I must remember the gift and surrender it back to the One who gives all things, knowing He is near. How much better to offer it back with open hands than to struggle to hold on to what already belongs to Him.

338. A childhood home
339. Lots of happy memories.

Sunday Scripture

Then Jesus said to the twelve, "Do you also want to go away?"
But Simon Peter answered Him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.
"Also we have come to believe and know that You are the Christ, the Son of the living God."
John 6:67-69

Snowy Day Surprise

The snow is melting. Spring will not be stopped.

Yesterday, when I took Emma out to catch the bus, I found an interesting sight in the snow, a small trail and a perfectly round hole. (A unique gift from a Father who knew I had my camera with me. I think He must have been smiling...) Why do these little things intrigue me so? Why does my mind want to spin a tale of mice with hats and mittens? And, if the above ground trail weren't enough, there was another trail underneath the snow, a tunnel.

I suppose a part of me will always have a childlike imagination. Maybe that is from all the stories I have packed away inside my small brain. Or maybe it is because I am still reading stories about a small mouse showing up at Kenny Pig's store in the dead of winter or a rabbit named Peter who lives "in a sandbank underneath the root of a very big fir tree."

Yes, I can be thankful for everyday, "out of the ordinary" gifts, the little things that make life special.

298. Mouse (or mole) trails over and under freshly fallen snow.

Wintery Weather

Yesterday morning the ground was clear and snow-free. That lasted until a little after noon when snow started falling in abundance. By mid afternoon the roads were covered. This morning Emma and I went out to the bus stop down a snow covered driveway. Though I am ready for spring, I must say the snow was pretty this morning.

It won't last long. Soon the wheel- barrow will be full of dried leaves and sticks instead of snow. (And maybe we'll drag that Christmas tree down to the burn pile...) The grass is already making a new appearance and the trees are considering blossoms. (Okay, maybe that's pushing it a little.)

J is for Jam (and Jelly Beans)

J is for Jam.

Jam for snacks and jam for meals, I know how a jam jar feels- FULL... OF... JAM! -Frances the Hedgehog

Frances the hedgehog loved nothing better than bread and jam, until it was all she was ever given to eat.

One thing I can preserve well is jam. If there is not enough time to cook up a batch when the fruit is fresh, I freeze it and cook them up in the dead of winter. My favorite is strawberry, but we've made raspberry, blackberry, peach, and elderberry too. They're all yummy!

Of course, while speaking of the letter J, another thing comes to mind, jelly beans! My favorite jelly beans are the expensive little Jelly Bellies. James and I had the privilege of visiting the Jelly Belly factory in Fairfield, California. (See here.) Oh, what fun! And think we came home with ten or twenty pounds of Belly Flops!!!

Of course, we must not forget Japan either, but I already posted on that here.

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Maturity

"At 10:00 AM the Lord blessed us with a 6 lb 7 oz baby girl. Ar was awake and saw her birth. I think she's beautiful." -Dad's Diary March 22, 1964

(Aren't diaries a wonderful thing? ) Both my dad and my oldest brother have passed on now, but there remain stories and memories of days past. When I was still a baby my brother Dan asked Mom if he could marry me when I grew up. (I think he changed his mind later on. He told me to "go play marbles on the freeway" and I don't think that is exactly the kind of thing one should tell his betrothed...) Since Dan was adopted my mother told him he could marry me if he wanted to, to which he replied, "Can Timmy (my other brother) marry her too?" Today, well ahead of My Darling, whose birthday isn't for another two whole weeks, I turn 47. If it wasn't for the fact that fifty seems to be looming over my head, that might not be so bad... In celebration of all God has blessed me with, I invite you for cake and ice cream. What kind would you like? I'm having Boston Cream Pie with vanilla ice cream, but since cyber cake is calorie-free, I just might have a taste of whatever you're having too!

Rainy Days and Mondays

The morning did not go quite as planned. I guess the children didn't get the post-it note... Instead of a nice game of cars and blocks or Little People, we had a rather unorganized morning of noise and scattered toys. This is the way of "No-School Days." Priscilla came to visit and so did Rachel. I found the "background noise" to be slightly unsettling and impossible to control.

After my sisters left I was rescued by lunchtime which, of course, was followed by some stories and naps. The afternoon is going a bit more according to schedule. Four children and one Grandma asleep. I should be sleeping too but it is a little late for that now. Instead I am listening to the rain hit the windows and feeling the cold creep up my legs. My "mouse hand" is growing cold too. Maybe I'll go find another cup of something hot and sit by the fire.

Play Day

No school for little girls tomorrow, and Josh is coming to play too! Oh, are we gonna have fun! Out come the blocks, the cars, the dolls, the dress-up clothes, the dishes, and who-knows-what-else! (Why crayons, of course!) I have a feeling this is going to be a wild and crazy week!!!

I like This

James does not like to have his picture taken but he was a good sport yesterday and actually helped take this one. His arms are longer than mine so he could get a better angle. (Aren't we cute?)

It was a busy week of "gardening" and I so do appreciate the help of my daughter who lends a listening ear, a watchful eye, and helping hand, especially when the "seedlings" begin to multiply. Simon and Lucas came to play one day and, although it makes for a lot of action, I really did love the time I had to spend giving each of them a little love and attention.

We played all kinds of toys and Hannah took some time to sit at the table and color with a few of the little guys. Not only do they find it fun to scribble on paper and dump the crayons, but I think they especially love to climb on her lap for a hug or two. I'm beginning to think I need to make an artwork display somewhere in the living room now that my refrigerator is covered.

I managed to get half of my "flowers" to sleep at nap time. I settled everyone down and cuddled up on the couch with Lucas. He is as wiggly as his father was as a child and decided instead to play with my hair and point out facial features. I decided to take him outside in the fresh air and discovered it to be an absolutely gorgeous day. (This was yesterday.) I felt almost mean leaving the girls inside with Hannah when it was so nice, and so they came out to play too.

I am looking forward to having my grandsons around a little more often. Now that the weather is improving, Dave will be back to his landscaping business. I think I'm going to soak up all the loving I can get!

Japan...

Long ago and far away a baby boy was born on a US Air Force base in Tokyo, Japan. His four older sisters remember the country of his birth much better than he does, and yet only his birth certificate reads Tachikawa Air Force Base, Tokyo, Japan.

Though he played amongst the bamboo trees, the only memory is in old photographs. He was not quite three years old when the family returned to the shores of North America, taking along a love for the Japanese people, their food, and language. Wasn't it just two weeks ago my own daughter wandered the Tokyo airport and purchased a small package of seaweed to bring home to her father? And those funny fish and shrimp crackers?

Today the country of Japan is in great danger and terrible turmoil. Our hearts are heavy as we read the news and watch footage of utter destruction. We pray for the Japanese people, hurt for their loss, hope for their safety, and realize the world will never be the same.

I is for Ice Cream

I is for ice cream.

I'm fairly certain ice cream needs no explanation. It is a favorite dessert no matter the weather. Sizzling summer days or dead of winter, ice cream is always appreciated. My daughter was lucky enough to have her birthday fall on National Ice Cream Day this past July. Actually, July is National Ice Cream Month here in the United States, thanks to former President Ronald Reagan. July 25 is National Hot Fudge Sundae Day. You know, it's great to be an American in July!

My husband's favorite ice cream is mint chocolate chip. It seems to run in the family as a family poll found over 50% list mint chocolate as their favorite. My favorite happens to be the humble, but versatile flavor; vanilla. It goes with any dessert; brownies, apple pie, cookies, birthday cake... (Are you hungry yet?) and, of course, vanilla ice cream is fun to dress up in chocolate syrup, sprinkles, chopped peanuts, and whipped cream. What could be more fun?

For more National Food Holidays click here.

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A Second Chance

I am still reading, only this time I am wading through the book, pen in hand. I stop here and there to underline words that speak to my heart...

"Ultimately, in his essence, Satan is an ingrate. And he sinks his venom into the heart of Eden. Satan's sin becomes the first sin of all humanity; the sin of ingratitude. Adam and Eve are, simply, painfully, ungrateful for what God gave.

Isn't that the catalyst of all my sins?

Our fall was, has always been, and always will be, that we aren't satisfied in God and what He gives. We hunger for something more, something other."

I find this coming back to my mind, invading my thoughts, again and again. I am dissatisfied more often than I care to admit, wanting more, wanting "something other." But I also I find myself searching for those gifts God gives, gifts that arrive in everyday packages, and I record them in my notebook...

#45 -Star studded skies
#71 -A familiar face in a sea of strangers
#129 -Tea and honey
#185 -The still of night
#213 -Morning coffee when my eyes won't stay open

It's been almost four weeks of recording gifts. I wonder how long it will be before seeing gifts in prickly packages becomes second nature?

The Holy Experience