Christmas Eve.
Christmas is my favorite time of the year.
I love to decorate the house with all my wonderful decorations collected over the years. Snowmen, angels, trees of all shapes, sizes, and material.
And lights. My favorite. Candles in all the windows, twinkle lights on all the plate rails in the dining room and among the fresh greens which fill all the rooms. Light to remind us of The Light which shone in the darkness.
We will have a different Christmas Eve this year.
Our tradition is to eat an early dinner and get dressed in our Sunday best and head off to our Candlelight service at church. We've been doing this for 25 years (except one) and I'm going to miss our "family" with whom we celebrate this wonderful night. The church is dimly lite and candles are passed out to all. We sing lovely Christmas carols and hymns, selected children read from the Old and New Testament, telling us of the old familar story. The beginning of our redemption. We have special music performed by a select choir (Ethan, Rob and myself have been a part of for years), a reflective message about the reason we are celebrating, and the lighting of the candles in a dark church singing Silent Night. Then quiet hugs and love to all and a return home.
At home we gather in the living room, pass out hot chocolate and Christmas cookies, enjoy the Christmas Tree, and open one gift. Then off to bed, so Mom can put stockings on the couch, filled with love and a letter to each, refecting on the pervious year and casting vision for the next.
This year it will be different.
We will be in the desert. Jesus spent a lot of time in the desert; praying, fighting spiritual battles, walking through from city to city to heal, help and love.
I'm looking forward to our trip to the desert. The message will still be true and relevant and personal.
Jesus came to this earth as a baby......for me.
"For unto us a child is born, unto us a Son is given" Isaiah 9:6
Merry Christmas to all who still read my blog. And I pray that Jesus is the Light in your life.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Saturday, December 10, 2011
In Defence Of Winter
Absolutely breathtaking this morning.
Winter.....and snow. And a clear bright sky with the glow of the morning sun.
It's beautiful. Even the chicken pen is draped beautifully with a soft white blanket, gently cascading over the netting and wire fence.
The snow fell softly, quietly last night. No mighty winds, so it lays serenely, nestled into the branches and as a dress among the spruces.
This morning I see remnants of Rob's footprints as he went back and forth from the Inn, feeding the chickens, creating a path for our guests. The snow is not so thick that I can't see the remaining Brussels sprouts in the garden, or the forgotten cabbages, destined for the chicken coop. And the garlic is still visible, sprouting way too early. Go back to sleep my precious fall planted commodity. You are supposed to be gaining strength quietly under ground. Many more months will pass before you should show yourselves.
This year we seemed to ease into winter. And sometimes it's best in small doses initially. We never know how long this year's winter will last. And I think it is wise that we just don't jump into -30 degrees. We have to do that gradually, with some experience. Winter in the North Country takes up over 1/4 of our lives. We do have four seasons but winter feels like it takes up the biggest part of the year.
But the first snow is lovely this year. Actually, beautiful. It turns the landscape monochromatic. A concept we embrace at Lintengard. And seems to turn the landscape into a memory of itself....just painted white, with touches of brown and green as accents.
But growth takes place in the winter. Just as growth takes place in our personal lives when we allow tough situations, personal failures, and tragedies to stretch us and mold us into what God has for us. The seemingly cold and barrenness of winter makes it feel like nothing is happening. But life goes on, under the ground. The foundation is being built and strengthened and fed. Winter is a quiet time. A time to reflect and anticipate. (I'm already thinking about all the brightly colored catalogs I will be receiving after the new year...prompting me to experiment with different seeds and veggies).
Winter is a time to drown out the chaos of summer and fall, and to hang onto what is true. If we allow it to, it reminds us of who we are and if we are really reflective, it compels us to realize what could be our full potential and embrace our divinely ordained gifts and graces. It's a time for excitement about possibilities and adventures. And a time to receive. God is good.
Winter
Winter.....and snow. And a clear bright sky with the glow of the morning sun.
It's beautiful. Even the chicken pen is draped beautifully with a soft white blanket, gently cascading over the netting and wire fence.
The snow fell softly, quietly last night. No mighty winds, so it lays serenely, nestled into the branches and as a dress among the spruces.
This morning I see remnants of Rob's footprints as he went back and forth from the Inn, feeding the chickens, creating a path for our guests. The snow is not so thick that I can't see the remaining Brussels sprouts in the garden, or the forgotten cabbages, destined for the chicken coop. And the garlic is still visible, sprouting way too early. Go back to sleep my precious fall planted commodity. You are supposed to be gaining strength quietly under ground. Many more months will pass before you should show yourselves.
This year we seemed to ease into winter. And sometimes it's best in small doses initially. We never know how long this year's winter will last. And I think it is wise that we just don't jump into -30 degrees. We have to do that gradually, with some experience. Winter in the North Country takes up over 1/4 of our lives. We do have four seasons but winter feels like it takes up the biggest part of the year.
But the first snow is lovely this year. Actually, beautiful. It turns the landscape monochromatic. A concept we embrace at Lintengard. And seems to turn the landscape into a memory of itself....just painted white, with touches of brown and green as accents.
But growth takes place in the winter. Just as growth takes place in our personal lives when we allow tough situations, personal failures, and tragedies to stretch us and mold us into what God has for us. The seemingly cold and barrenness of winter makes it feel like nothing is happening. But life goes on, under the ground. The foundation is being built and strengthened and fed. Winter is a quiet time. A time to reflect and anticipate. (I'm already thinking about all the brightly colored catalogs I will be receiving after the new year...prompting me to experiment with different seeds and veggies).
Winter is a time to drown out the chaos of summer and fall, and to hang onto what is true. If we allow it to, it reminds us of who we are and if we are really reflective, it compels us to realize what could be our full potential and embrace our divinely ordained gifts and graces. It's a time for excitement about possibilities and adventures. And a time to receive. God is good.
Winter
Friday, December 2, 2011
Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving has come and gone! How could that be?
And we hardly had time to really give thanks and express our gratitude to God for our manifold blessings. We're already onto Christmas.
I wish we would change the date for Thanksgiving and move it to October, like the Canadians. It would give us more time to reflect and celebrate this wonderful holiday.
I am so blessed to live in this country. Really, I could have been born anywhere. I own a business, raise a flock of chickens, have plenty of food,(some of which I raised in my backyard garden), shelter and warm clothes for the winter. I was raised by wonderful parents who loved me and my sisters unconditionally. They taught me respect for authority and a love of family and God. We belong to a wonderful church community where we share our joys and sorrows. I have four wonderful children who are the light of my life (although they live too far away). Our neighborhood gives us wonderful friendships where we have parties out on our front lawns. And the North Country is a gorgeous place to live, all four seasons.
God has been good to us.
This is one of our Thanksgiving traditions. The Turkey Bowl. Every year Ethan organizes a tackle football game in the morning. This year one of the players is missing from the picture. Christian was stabbed in the face with a cleat while tackling Greg and had to go to the office for 9 stitches. Nose to lip! And turkey is his favorite meal.
Aunt June, 84, made it up from New Hampshire and Grandma and Uncle Don came over for our Thanksgiving feast: turkey, dressing, gravy, cranberry relish, homegrown mashed potatoes, broccoli casserole and butternut squash and apple casserole. Later it was pecan and apple pie. And of course whipped cream.
And now it is December 2. Our anniversary.
Wow!! We've been married 39 years! I've been married way longer than I was single.
And I am so thankful to be married to this wonderful man. He loves the Lord and me more than anything in the world. He is kind and considerate and thoughtful. He is honest and honorable, traits that are somehow missing in many these days. So many people around the community come up to me and tell me how great Rob is and they are so thankful for the care he has given them. I received a card from our neighbor the other day thanking Rob for the care for her husband. "John aways felt secure with your care. You took such an interest in his well being, and we are so grateful for that." And he has a folder in the office full of like cards. I'm proud of him and his skill. He is so generous, especially with our children, but whenever there is a need he is there with support. He can do anything.....carpentry, plumbing, electrical work, painting, wallpapering, antiquing furniture, car repairs, etc. He's quirky in a very endearing way and we have lots of stories that make us laugh when we remember some of his antics!
He's the smartest person I know, but I beat him in Scrabble the other day!
Yup! Married 39 years. But today is more than just our anniversary. It is more than just the present. It's a time for stuff.... a time to fit our soul for heaven, to love each other, to hear what God wants us to do today, to enjoy his creation, (even the impending winter with it's sounds of silently falling snow), it's a time for not just polishing the outside, but developing the inside.
Seeing beauty in everyday life.
And we hardly had time to really give thanks and express our gratitude to God for our manifold blessings. We're already onto Christmas.
I wish we would change the date for Thanksgiving and move it to October, like the Canadians. It would give us more time to reflect and celebrate this wonderful holiday.
I am so blessed to live in this country. Really, I could have been born anywhere. I own a business, raise a flock of chickens, have plenty of food,(some of which I raised in my backyard garden), shelter and warm clothes for the winter. I was raised by wonderful parents who loved me and my sisters unconditionally. They taught me respect for authority and a love of family and God. We belong to a wonderful church community where we share our joys and sorrows. I have four wonderful children who are the light of my life (although they live too far away). Our neighborhood gives us wonderful friendships where we have parties out on our front lawns. And the North Country is a gorgeous place to live, all four seasons.
God has been good to us.
This is one of our Thanksgiving traditions. The Turkey Bowl. Every year Ethan organizes a tackle football game in the morning. This year one of the players is missing from the picture. Christian was stabbed in the face with a cleat while tackling Greg and had to go to the office for 9 stitches. Nose to lip! And turkey is his favorite meal.
Aunt June, 84, made it up from New Hampshire and Grandma and Uncle Don came over for our Thanksgiving feast: turkey, dressing, gravy, cranberry relish, homegrown mashed potatoes, broccoli casserole and butternut squash and apple casserole. Later it was pecan and apple pie. And of course whipped cream.
And now it is December 2. Our anniversary.
Wow!! We've been married 39 years! I've been married way longer than I was single.
And I am so thankful to be married to this wonderful man. He loves the Lord and me more than anything in the world. He is kind and considerate and thoughtful. He is honest and honorable, traits that are somehow missing in many these days. So many people around the community come up to me and tell me how great Rob is and they are so thankful for the care he has given them. I received a card from our neighbor the other day thanking Rob for the care for her husband. "John aways felt secure with your care. You took such an interest in his well being, and we are so grateful for that." And he has a folder in the office full of like cards. I'm proud of him and his skill. He is so generous, especially with our children, but whenever there is a need he is there with support. He can do anything.....carpentry, plumbing, electrical work, painting, wallpapering, antiquing furniture, car repairs, etc. He's quirky in a very endearing way and we have lots of stories that make us laugh when we remember some of his antics!
He's the smartest person I know, but I beat him in Scrabble the other day!
Yup! Married 39 years. But today is more than just our anniversary. It is more than just the present. It's a time for stuff.... a time to fit our soul for heaven, to love each other, to hear what God wants us to do today, to enjoy his creation, (even the impending winter with it's sounds of silently falling snow), it's a time for not just polishing the outside, but developing the inside.
Seeing beauty in everyday life.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
It's Gone
Yes, Fall is gone!
It hung on tenaciously this year in the North Country. It was warm, sunny and lovely way past our traditional fall. But, now it's gone.
Otis and I took a walk around Partridge yesterday and by the time we finished, it was snowing slightly and sporadically.
The grass is still green, but the fields are golden. The red, orange and yellow leaves have fallen, exposing bright purple and red berries. Winter food for birds and squirrels.
The milkweed pods have completely opened releasing their seed children on wings of white feathers. And the woods glisten white as the wind scatters them at will. New life next year.
And the cattails, sheding their sable mink coats, reveal tall plush brown sentinels that will stand guard over the marshes around the trail.
The white birches show their lovely trunks and branches, no longer hidden behind green bushes. And the remaining Canadian Geese are gleaning in the corn fields. Fortifying their bodies with the remaining kernels before flying south.
Fall is really lovely. A transition to a slower quieter time of year.
And this year it was magnificient.
It hung on tenaciously this year in the North Country. It was warm, sunny and lovely way past our traditional fall. But, now it's gone.
Otis and I took a walk around Partridge yesterday and by the time we finished, it was snowing slightly and sporadically.
The grass is still green, but the fields are golden. The red, orange and yellow leaves have fallen, exposing bright purple and red berries. Winter food for birds and squirrels.
The milkweed pods have completely opened releasing their seed children on wings of white feathers. And the woods glisten white as the wind scatters them at will. New life next year.
And the cattails, sheding their sable mink coats, reveal tall plush brown sentinels that will stand guard over the marshes around the trail.
The white birches show their lovely trunks and branches, no longer hidden behind green bushes. And the remaining Canadian Geese are gleaning in the corn fields. Fortifying their bodies with the remaining kernels before flying south.
Fall is really lovely. A transition to a slower quieter time of year.
And this year it was magnificient.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Rigmar Got Her Groove Back
Yes, Rigmar is getting back her groove.
She is looking better, tail feathers growing back, She's gaining weight, she's off her perch in the coop and walking around the pen. She's out and about now and slowly integrating herself back into the group.
She's gaining weight because I've been hand feeding her the best scraps and shoo the other hens away when they challenge her right to have food.
And I've been taking her over to my fenced kitchen garden everyday so she can have hours of scratching, pecking, scavaging and eating the last of the brussel sprout leaves that are still bright green on their big stout stalks. All in peace!
But we had a scare yesterday. Just after I felt so good about getting her back into shape, I lost her.
Rob and I were supposed to go to our Supper Club event across the street. Before changing I had decided to take Rigmar back over to the barn with the other chickens. And there in the garden was a large grey cat. I let Otis out and he chased it fiercely, and it fled rapidly to the backyard and up a tree. I had one item to bring over to Litengard and when I returned, no Rigmar. ANYWHERE!
Rob came out and we searched and searched, for about 45 minutes, making us late for our engagement. All around the house, the bushes, the neighbors, under the house, in the garage back over at the coop. Calling her name, as if chickens respond to their names being called! No Rigmar. Sadly we decided that she must have been taken by a big hawk (too early for an owl). Loosing her after I had congratulated myself on nursing her back to health! A low blow and not much for my ego!
And then after I had changed and was over by the kitchen sink, down by the basement stairs.....there staggered out skinny little Rigmar. Looking dazed and confused but in one piece. I think she was glad to see me. She was willing to be caught and brought back to her safe environment. The cat in close proximity and the ferocious barking from Otis must have scared her away to a great hiding place.
And when all was quiet she came out.
But, no more kitchen garden for Rigmar.
She is looking better, tail feathers growing back, She's gaining weight, she's off her perch in the coop and walking around the pen. She's out and about now and slowly integrating herself back into the group.
She's gaining weight because I've been hand feeding her the best scraps and shoo the other hens away when they challenge her right to have food.
And I've been taking her over to my fenced kitchen garden everyday so she can have hours of scratching, pecking, scavaging and eating the last of the brussel sprout leaves that are still bright green on their big stout stalks. All in peace!
But we had a scare yesterday. Just after I felt so good about getting her back into shape, I lost her.
Rob and I were supposed to go to our Supper Club event across the street. Before changing I had decided to take Rigmar back over to the barn with the other chickens. And there in the garden was a large grey cat. I let Otis out and he chased it fiercely, and it fled rapidly to the backyard and up a tree. I had one item to bring over to Litengard and when I returned, no Rigmar. ANYWHERE!
Rob came out and we searched and searched, for about 45 minutes, making us late for our engagement. All around the house, the bushes, the neighbors, under the house, in the garage back over at the coop. Calling her name, as if chickens respond to their names being called! No Rigmar. Sadly we decided that she must have been taken by a big hawk (too early for an owl). Loosing her after I had congratulated myself on nursing her back to health! A low blow and not much for my ego!
And then after I had changed and was over by the kitchen sink, down by the basement stairs.....there staggered out skinny little Rigmar. Looking dazed and confused but in one piece. I think she was glad to see me. She was willing to be caught and brought back to her safe environment. The cat in close proximity and the ferocious barking from Otis must have scared her away to a great hiding place.
And when all was quiet she came out.
But, no more kitchen garden for Rigmar.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Bullying at 44
I can't believe it, but it's happening in my own backyard.
Bullying!!!
Poor Rigmar. First she sat in the nesting box for two months, just trying to have a family. She simply wanted some babies to mother, her instincts were kicking in.
But they looked askance at her then, and just tried to pretend she wasn't one of them. One of their flock! One of their group......engaged in that ridiculous behavior!
She gave up the notion of having babies and has tried to integrate herself back into the flock but, oh no!!!!!!
She began to molt.....first it was the feathers around her neck that were suddenly shed. But then all the beautiful long buff tail feathers began to appear on the floor of the coop. And gradually a lot of feathers around her body were gone and she looked like a shadow of her former self. A miniature of the rest of the flock.
She looks pitiful. And no pictures please, she would be mortified!
And they dislike her even more. They won't let her eat, they attack her if she tries to eat when they all eat. They chase her around the yard and peck at her. She has found a refuge in the top of the wall of the nesting boxes and stands there all day to avoid their fury.
But I'm for the underdog.....or chicken. I've taken to hand feeding her. She runs up to me when I speak with her. And since it has stopped raining I've taken her to the back fenced in kitchen garden and let her free range. She's gobbling up the Brussel sprout leaves and the beet tops. She scratching and picking up bugs in the dirt and finding a host of worms. And she is enjoying the sun and no BULLYING! Left alone and enjoying it.
I hope that when her feathers all grow back and she looks like the rest of the flock again, they will accept her back into the group.
Who knew that looks were that important to more species than ours!
Bullying!!!
Poor Rigmar. First she sat in the nesting box for two months, just trying to have a family. She simply wanted some babies to mother, her instincts were kicking in.
But they looked askance at her then, and just tried to pretend she wasn't one of them. One of their flock! One of their group......engaged in that ridiculous behavior!
She gave up the notion of having babies and has tried to integrate herself back into the flock but, oh no!!!!!!
She began to molt.....first it was the feathers around her neck that were suddenly shed. But then all the beautiful long buff tail feathers began to appear on the floor of the coop. And gradually a lot of feathers around her body were gone and she looked like a shadow of her former self. A miniature of the rest of the flock.
She looks pitiful. And no pictures please, she would be mortified!
And they dislike her even more. They won't let her eat, they attack her if she tries to eat when they all eat. They chase her around the yard and peck at her. She has found a refuge in the top of the wall of the nesting boxes and stands there all day to avoid their fury.
But I'm for the underdog.....or chicken. I've taken to hand feeding her. She runs up to me when I speak with her. And since it has stopped raining I've taken her to the back fenced in kitchen garden and let her free range. She's gobbling up the Brussel sprout leaves and the beet tops. She scratching and picking up bugs in the dirt and finding a host of worms. And she is enjoying the sun and no BULLYING! Left alone and enjoying it.
I hope that when her feathers all grow back and she looks like the rest of the flock again, they will accept her back into the group.
Who knew that looks were that important to more species than ours!
Thursday, October 13, 2011
I Have a Friend.....
And her name is Fran.
I was here last week. In her part of the world. It was a beautiful part of the world last week. No humidity, temps in the high 70's, white soft sand, gentle waves caressing the shore, little sandpipers scurrying around on their spindlely legs, pelicans flying low over the surf and wonderful family and friends to share it with.
For some reason, Fran has chosen me.
That's what it feels like. She has hundred's of friends but somehow I feel like I'm a special friend. She was there when I was a self confident college student trying desperately to reject the gospel. She would invite my family over for dinners after church and they would talk about the Lord. When I received Christ, she took me under her wing and gave me a short course on the Old and New Testament. We sat for hours around her dining room table as she carefully explained the theme and purpose of each book of the Bible.
She wrote me notes. And continues to write me notes, and sends me packages. She visited me in Boston, in Pennsylvania and here in Upstate New York. She says I'm a blessing and inspiration to her but I think I'm just reflecting what she has poured into me.
When she turned 84, she wrote and told me how frustrated she was with herself. She thought she was getting lazy! This was after she just had a luncheon for 30, had a send off party for some people in their church who were moving away and then gave a talk at their CBS Bible Study group of over 200 ladies. Lazy? I don't think so.
This time my visit was to help my aunt celebrate her 89th birthday. She has received a difficult medical diagnosis and I wanted to be there for this birthday.
Fran and Dick came to dinner with Aunt June and Aunt Millie and Elizabeth. It was fun to be together. I brought eggplant and homemade sauce and we had some pasta. The next day when Liz and I picked her up to go to the thrift stores, she had made 4 bags of chocolate chips cookies, all packaged up with ribbon and smiley faces. One bag for each of us. And they were sitting on a platter which I shall next use at Litengard, cute white platter with small red flowers around the edge. She made me dinner one night, filet mignon! The day before I left she calld early in the morning. "How about a pedicure?" She wanted to treat me to a pedicure because my "little" (size 8 1/2) feet were working so hard at the Inn and for the family. So off we went to get pedicures.
Dick sent me this poem that Fran wrote. Their Bible Study group was asked to write a poem discribing their faith walk. She said her first thoughts were, "Am I rusting or am I trusting?
But here's what she came up with
Keeping On!
I wobble-I squabble
I act like a child
I react, I resist- that's putting it mild
I love my Lord. He's the love of my life
Oh, how I'd adore to be mature in his sight
I'm excited, ignited
Then inflated in turn
I know I'm his girl
Will I never learn?
But I love Him I do
So I'll just keep on
Heard Him whisper just now
"My child- Right on!"
I love her, I do!
I was here last week. In her part of the world. It was a beautiful part of the world last week. No humidity, temps in the high 70's, white soft sand, gentle waves caressing the shore, little sandpipers scurrying around on their spindlely legs, pelicans flying low over the surf and wonderful family and friends to share it with.
For some reason, Fran has chosen me.
That's what it feels like. She has hundred's of friends but somehow I feel like I'm a special friend. She was there when I was a self confident college student trying desperately to reject the gospel. She would invite my family over for dinners after church and they would talk about the Lord. When I received Christ, she took me under her wing and gave me a short course on the Old and New Testament. We sat for hours around her dining room table as she carefully explained the theme and purpose of each book of the Bible.
She wrote me notes. And continues to write me notes, and sends me packages. She visited me in Boston, in Pennsylvania and here in Upstate New York. She says I'm a blessing and inspiration to her but I think I'm just reflecting what she has poured into me.
When she turned 84, she wrote and told me how frustrated she was with herself. She thought she was getting lazy! This was after she just had a luncheon for 30, had a send off party for some people in their church who were moving away and then gave a talk at their CBS Bible Study group of over 200 ladies. Lazy? I don't think so.
This time my visit was to help my aunt celebrate her 89th birthday. She has received a difficult medical diagnosis and I wanted to be there for this birthday.
Fran and Dick came to dinner with Aunt June and Aunt Millie and Elizabeth. It was fun to be together. I brought eggplant and homemade sauce and we had some pasta. The next day when Liz and I picked her up to go to the thrift stores, she had made 4 bags of chocolate chips cookies, all packaged up with ribbon and smiley faces. One bag for each of us. And they were sitting on a platter which I shall next use at Litengard, cute white platter with small red flowers around the edge. She made me dinner one night, filet mignon! The day before I left she calld early in the morning. "How about a pedicure?" She wanted to treat me to a pedicure because my "little" (size 8 1/2) feet were working so hard at the Inn and for the family. So off we went to get pedicures.
Dick sent me this poem that Fran wrote. Their Bible Study group was asked to write a poem discribing their faith walk. She said her first thoughts were, "Am I rusting or am I trusting?
But here's what she came up with
Keeping On!
I wobble-I squabble
I act like a child
I react, I resist- that's putting it mild
I love my Lord. He's the love of my life
Oh, how I'd adore to be mature in his sight
I'm excited, ignited
Then inflated in turn
I know I'm his girl
Will I never learn?
But I love Him I do
So I'll just keep on
Heard Him whisper just now
"My child- Right on!"
I love her, I do!
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Remembering
There are certain days that are etched on our souls.
We can barely remember what happened yesterday but we can remember every moment of that day, and sometimes it is replayed in living color.
I can see myself, a high school student, passing through our outdoor halls, hearing about the assassination of JFK. We all just stood still for a moment, this could not be happening in our country and our life time. The shock and horror reverberated though the halls and classrooms of Horace Greeley High School. We were all so insulated from hardship, trials let alone a murder of our President.
Without any effort, I can see the day of November 8th unfold before my conscienceness. Every detail engraved on my being from the first phone call from Italy, to the Pastor arriving at our house, to the house spontaneously filling up with friends and neighbors, to the trip to the airport, to the airline attendant running out to buy a leather journal for me to write in, to Paris, to Italy, to running up the sidewalk to my wounded first born.
And September 11, 2001 is indelibly marked on my being.
None of my children were home. I had just finished my devotions, taken a shower and had turned the TV on while I got dressed. A couple of weeks before we had delivered Ethan, as a freshman, to Messiah College in Pennsylvania. Liz was working as a nurse in Boston, Jon was in Chicago and Christian was returning by bus from a trip south.
I remember saying, "Oh, God, this can't be happening. Please, please Father reveal yourself to these people and save them. Help them listen to your voice and acknowledge your son." I could not believe the newsman was still broadcasting in a relatively composed voice. I was crying for those people.
My next thought was my children. Where were my loved ones in relation to this act of horror. And what was coming next?
No one knew what the next target was. But shortly we found out that Boston was the next possible target and something was happening in Pennsylvania.
Surprisingly, I was able to get through to Ethan and instructed him to listen and follow any directions given by the college administration.
After many attempts to reach Elizabeth, I finally got through. She told me all medical personale in Boston were mandated to their hospitals and were not allowed to leave. They were expecting scores of burn victims to be flown into Boston for medical treatment. "And Mom, there are F 16's circling Boston" "Yes, honey but God is with you and you can do this. You are strong and capable, pray for direction and listen for the Holy Spirit's voice. And do all that you are asked to do." Sadly, there were no victims.
Chicago did not seem to be on anyone's radar, so I guess I felt that Jon was relatively safe. And Christian arrived home in the early afternoon. Relief.
Sometines we get bored with regular, ho hum days. Days when nothing spectaculor happens. We take for granted that our family will all be together on special days, will celebrate milestones and successes and provide comfort for disappointments and challenges. And yet each one is special. A gift.
I called Rob to the kitchen sink the other day. "Look, the male and female cardinal are at the feeder at the same time!" I never see that. Usually, the males goes in first and if it is safe, he flys away so his mate can come in and eat. I like to pretend that this couple is the same couple of cardinals that I see each year. They come back to me each spring and suprise me with their presence over our summer days. But I never see the together at the feeder. And yet, a wonderful present this fall. The two together before they disappear for the winter. Ordinary wonders. Special beauties provided each day by a loving and caring creator.
Even admidst tragedy, horror, sadness and grief......God is
We can barely remember what happened yesterday but we can remember every moment of that day, and sometimes it is replayed in living color.
I can see myself, a high school student, passing through our outdoor halls, hearing about the assassination of JFK. We all just stood still for a moment, this could not be happening in our country and our life time. The shock and horror reverberated though the halls and classrooms of Horace Greeley High School. We were all so insulated from hardship, trials let alone a murder of our President.
Without any effort, I can see the day of November 8th unfold before my conscienceness. Every detail engraved on my being from the first phone call from Italy, to the Pastor arriving at our house, to the house spontaneously filling up with friends and neighbors, to the trip to the airport, to the airline attendant running out to buy a leather journal for me to write in, to Paris, to Italy, to running up the sidewalk to my wounded first born.
And September 11, 2001 is indelibly marked on my being.
None of my children were home. I had just finished my devotions, taken a shower and had turned the TV on while I got dressed. A couple of weeks before we had delivered Ethan, as a freshman, to Messiah College in Pennsylvania. Liz was working as a nurse in Boston, Jon was in Chicago and Christian was returning by bus from a trip south.
I remember saying, "Oh, God, this can't be happening. Please, please Father reveal yourself to these people and save them. Help them listen to your voice and acknowledge your son." I could not believe the newsman was still broadcasting in a relatively composed voice. I was crying for those people.
My next thought was my children. Where were my loved ones in relation to this act of horror. And what was coming next?
No one knew what the next target was. But shortly we found out that Boston was the next possible target and something was happening in Pennsylvania.
Surprisingly, I was able to get through to Ethan and instructed him to listen and follow any directions given by the college administration.
After many attempts to reach Elizabeth, I finally got through. She told me all medical personale in Boston were mandated to their hospitals and were not allowed to leave. They were expecting scores of burn victims to be flown into Boston for medical treatment. "And Mom, there are F 16's circling Boston" "Yes, honey but God is with you and you can do this. You are strong and capable, pray for direction and listen for the Holy Spirit's voice. And do all that you are asked to do." Sadly, there were no victims.
Chicago did not seem to be on anyone's radar, so I guess I felt that Jon was relatively safe. And Christian arrived home in the early afternoon. Relief.
Sometines we get bored with regular, ho hum days. Days when nothing spectaculor happens. We take for granted that our family will all be together on special days, will celebrate milestones and successes and provide comfort for disappointments and challenges. And yet each one is special. A gift.
I called Rob to the kitchen sink the other day. "Look, the male and female cardinal are at the feeder at the same time!" I never see that. Usually, the males goes in first and if it is safe, he flys away so his mate can come in and eat. I like to pretend that this couple is the same couple of cardinals that I see each year. They come back to me each spring and suprise me with their presence over our summer days. But I never see the together at the feeder. And yet, a wonderful present this fall. The two together before they disappear for the winter. Ordinary wonders. Special beauties provided each day by a loving and caring creator.
Even admidst tragedy, horror, sadness and grief......God is
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Green Eggs and Ham
Actually, no.
No green eggs.
They are blue. I thought they would be teal......that's what the blurb said above the chicks at the farm store.
But since we are into soft grey/blues at Litengard that's what the eggs turned out to be.....grey/blue. They are just beautiful. One of the Ameracuna's is laying brown eggs (false advertising!!!), but the other is laying these beautiful light blue eggs. And they go so nicely, visually, with the brown eggs.
Jon wants to know how they taste. I tell him I'm still just looking at them. They are so pretty I don't want to crack them open and use them. But I guess I will have to get over their outside beauty and experience their Omega 3 nutrition shortly.
The gardens at Litengard and behind 42 are producing prolifically. I have about 12 heirloom tomato plants and everyday I make pasta sauce for the freezer. Danica put me onto this method last year. I roast up the tomatoes, garlic, onion, green peppers, all sorts of herbs and at different times anything else that I might have too much of such as zucchini, and eggplant. Put it through the food processor and it makes the most delicious pasta sauce.
I've been digging up loads of potatoes and I have a ton of winter squash, acorn, butternut, blue hubbard and then there were the volunteer pumpkins that just sprouted up in the most inconvenient places.
One of the guests at Litengard put me onto Lactofermentation as an alternative way of processing all the produce. It was the way ancient cultures processed veggies and the result is supposed to be very good for one's digestive system. I "did" up some green beans and cucumbers the other day. It's quick and easy, and I have heard it tastes great. They are fermenting right now on my counter. I'll let you know the results. Everything gets pickled. Nancy tried some shredded carrots last year and loved them. I've got lots of carrots and beets coming too.
These beans were sort of hidden behind the chicken wire so they grew to these ridiculous lengths (and are totally unusable). Thirteen inches! I wonder if that is a Guiness World record?
Growing things. It's a God thing. Babies, gardens, poultry, friendships, homes. It's put there by God and it's so much fun to work together with Him and see the results!
No green eggs.
They are blue. I thought they would be teal......that's what the blurb said above the chicks at the farm store.
But since we are into soft grey/blues at Litengard that's what the eggs turned out to be.....grey/blue. They are just beautiful. One of the Ameracuna's is laying brown eggs (false advertising!!!), but the other is laying these beautiful light blue eggs. And they go so nicely, visually, with the brown eggs.
Jon wants to know how they taste. I tell him I'm still just looking at them. They are so pretty I don't want to crack them open and use them. But I guess I will have to get over their outside beauty and experience their Omega 3 nutrition shortly.
The gardens at Litengard and behind 42 are producing prolifically. I have about 12 heirloom tomato plants and everyday I make pasta sauce for the freezer. Danica put me onto this method last year. I roast up the tomatoes, garlic, onion, green peppers, all sorts of herbs and at different times anything else that I might have too much of such as zucchini, and eggplant. Put it through the food processor and it makes the most delicious pasta sauce.
I've been digging up loads of potatoes and I have a ton of winter squash, acorn, butternut, blue hubbard and then there were the volunteer pumpkins that just sprouted up in the most inconvenient places.
One of the guests at Litengard put me onto Lactofermentation as an alternative way of processing all the produce. It was the way ancient cultures processed veggies and the result is supposed to be very good for one's digestive system. I "did" up some green beans and cucumbers the other day. It's quick and easy, and I have heard it tastes great. They are fermenting right now on my counter. I'll let you know the results. Everything gets pickled. Nancy tried some shredded carrots last year and loved them. I've got lots of carrots and beets coming too.
These beans were sort of hidden behind the chicken wire so they grew to these ridiculous lengths (and are totally unusable). Thirteen inches! I wonder if that is a Guiness World record?
Growing things. It's a God thing. Babies, gardens, poultry, friendships, homes. It's put there by God and it's so much fun to work together with Him and see the results!
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Rigmar Wants Children
For almost three weeks now, Rigmar has sat in the nesting box.
At first I was concerned that she might be ill. But a quick call to the in house vet and a frantic email to her previous owner assured me that she was not in any physical danger or distress.
I was instructed that what she is doing is "brooding". She wants children. It's only natural. We all, (or most of us) want to have some children of our own. And I guess chickens are no different.
But she's pathetic now. When one of her friends lays an egg, she immediately goes and sits on it. "Maybe someone's eggs are fertile!"
I try to shoo her off the nest and get her to go outside, which she does but only grudgingly. Then, in a big huff and lots of clucking and noise, she races back to the coop, jumps inside and back in the nesting boxes.
The rest of the hens think she is crazy and are ignoring her. When she does get down briefly she puffs herself up to twice her original size and struts around making loud noises. The others think she's ostentatious and try to peck her so she's not so puffed up. They don't have the mother instincts yet.
But, what to do, what to do. I think she is really suffering. We take all the eggs each day and she is desperate. Maybe Mr. T., who reads this blog, can recommend something or can tell me where I might get a couple of fertilized eggs. Perhaps if she could hatch a baby or two she could revert back to her tender, quiet self.
But, maybe not. Children are sometimes more than we expect. They're cute and adorable as infants. Sometimes they're messy and sometimes demanding. They need to be taught manners and rules of home life. But they're certainly fun...and loving...and inquisitive...and imaginative....and complicated....and....
absolutely lovely.
I think that is so in the chicken world too. There is a certain order to their living out there in the barn. A pecking order, so to speak. So if Rigmar ever gets to hatch a chick or two, we'll see how she handles motherhood.
At first I was concerned that she might be ill. But a quick call to the in house vet and a frantic email to her previous owner assured me that she was not in any physical danger or distress.
I was instructed that what she is doing is "brooding". She wants children. It's only natural. We all, (or most of us) want to have some children of our own. And I guess chickens are no different.
But she's pathetic now. When one of her friends lays an egg, she immediately goes and sits on it. "Maybe someone's eggs are fertile!"
I try to shoo her off the nest and get her to go outside, which she does but only grudgingly. Then, in a big huff and lots of clucking and noise, she races back to the coop, jumps inside and back in the nesting boxes.
The rest of the hens think she is crazy and are ignoring her. When she does get down briefly she puffs herself up to twice her original size and struts around making loud noises. The others think she's ostentatious and try to peck her so she's not so puffed up. They don't have the mother instincts yet.
But, what to do, what to do. I think she is really suffering. We take all the eggs each day and she is desperate. Maybe Mr. T., who reads this blog, can recommend something or can tell me where I might get a couple of fertilized eggs. Perhaps if she could hatch a baby or two she could revert back to her tender, quiet self.
But, maybe not. Children are sometimes more than we expect. They're cute and adorable as infants. Sometimes they're messy and sometimes demanding. They need to be taught manners and rules of home life. But they're certainly fun...and loving...and inquisitive...and imaginative....and complicated....and....
absolutely lovely.
I think that is so in the chicken world too. There is a certain order to their living out there in the barn. A pecking order, so to speak. So if Rigmar ever gets to hatch a chick or two, we'll see how she handles motherhood.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
And In A Flash........
Litengard was once again a Bed and Breakfast. After two wonderful nights of lovely music.
We hosted an "Evening of Favorites" this past Thursday and Friday. The Inn's parlor was transformed into a theater of sorts, with rows of white chairs, stage lights, a platform stage, the sound system, the audience and four fantastically talented musicians. These four musicians could perform anywhere in the US, but Canton was the venue for this performance.
We all were treated to so many fun favorites! Show tunes favorites, movie favorites, pop favorites and great Patsy Cline favorites. The audience, I don't think, wanted the show to come to an end. It was so much fun!
And during the intermission, gourmet desserts were served with coffee and a variety of iced teas, the favorite being pomegranate wild berry tea.
We had about 30 white chairs in the parlor and seating for several more on the couch, and of course there was standing room for those that had other responsibilities that night.
The guests were encouraged to go out onto the front porch to enjoy their desserts. A favorite past time, sitting on one's front porch, watching the neighborhood go by.
Or others could go to the back patio, to enjoy the backyard with the gardens full of tomato plants laden with tons of fruit and the lovely ladies (hens) who were very inquisitive about who all these people were. And many people wanted a tour of the barn with it's livestock. It's not often anymore one encounters chickens in the village
Darlene and Carina singing a duet. Their voices compliment each other so well. We all could have listened for many more hours!
And Ana Hull made the most amazing desserts! Each night there was a completely new menu of desserts all served by lovely ladies and fun aprons which were well coordinated with Litengard's colors.
We hosted an "Evening of Favorites" this past Thursday and Friday. The Inn's parlor was transformed into a theater of sorts, with rows of white chairs, stage lights, a platform stage, the sound system, the audience and four fantastically talented musicians. These four musicians could perform anywhere in the US, but Canton was the venue for this performance.
We all were treated to so many fun favorites! Show tunes favorites, movie favorites, pop favorites and great Patsy Cline favorites. The audience, I don't think, wanted the show to come to an end. It was so much fun!
And during the intermission, gourmet desserts were served with coffee and a variety of iced teas, the favorite being pomegranate wild berry tea.
We had about 30 white chairs in the parlor and seating for several more on the couch, and of course there was standing room for those that had other responsibilities that night.
The guests were encouraged to go out onto the front porch to enjoy their desserts. A favorite past time, sitting on one's front porch, watching the neighborhood go by.
Or others could go to the back patio, to enjoy the backyard with the gardens full of tomato plants laden with tons of fruit and the lovely ladies (hens) who were very inquisitive about who all these people were. And many people wanted a tour of the barn with it's livestock. It's not often anymore one encounters chickens in the village
Darlene and Carina singing a duet. Their voices compliment each other so well. We all could have listened for many more hours!
And Ana Hull made the most amazing desserts! Each night there was a completely new menu of desserts all served by lovely ladies and fun aprons which were well coordinated with Litengard's colors.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Father's Day
It's Father's Day today.
And we don't have fathers anymore. But Rob is a father to our four wonderful children, so we carry on the tradition.
It's actually a wonderful day to take the time to remember and honor our dad's. To think about all they have been to us, and appreciate their dedication to the family.
My children are so blessed to have grown up surrounded by men of honor and integrity. Something missing frequently in our present day world of compromise. They have seen in action what it means to be a dad, a good dad. Someone who is loyal and kind, honest and firm, godly and compassionate. They have seen three men who have had to make hard decisions, difficult choices, and keep their commitments to their families, their work and to their Lord. My boys have good role models.
My sisters and I grew up with a Dad that was the head of the family, and loved his "girls", which included my mom, unconditionally. He was so talented, a B-17 pilot, and captian in WWII, flying 35 missions in Europe and bringing his crew and formation back safely every time.....although many of the plane limped back to England. He had a jazz band from high school, where he met my mom at a high school dance where he was performing. He married when he returned from the war, became a flight instructor, then back to New York to get a position in the bank. He went to night school on the GI bill at Columbia. And when I was in high school he was still going to school, getting his Masters from Brown. He was a hard worker, working three jobs to provide for his family. He eventually became the president of the bank and on the board of directors. A plaque of honor sits on Ethan's desk now, commending my dad for his service to the bank, and the community. He was known for his honesty and integrity in the business world. He had many positions in the church and audited the CMA's books each year for quite a while. And he always planted a big vegetable garden. If anyone needed any help, he was there and could be counted on.
But one of my favorite rememberances of him was his dedication to my mom. She had Alzheimers for about 10 years before she died. It was difficult. At first he tried to commensate for her. But eventually, my sister, the non medical person said, "we've got to take mom to the doctor, there's really something wrong with her". It was difficult and not easy to care for her. She was not herself anymore, she was angry and beligerant at times, frightened at other times. She would run away and get lost. He took over the cooking, something he never did before. He did the washing, the house cleaning and the shopping. And the getting her dressed, which was actually funny sometimes. One Sunday she came out all dressed and I looked at her and said....Dad, I think you put her dress on backwards! So off they went to the bedroom to turn it around.
But every day he would tell her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. He would not leave her, because, at the end, he was the only one she sort of recognized. That's honor and integrity. It's not the way they hoped they would end up but he was loving and kind to the very end.
I appreciate my Dad for the way he lived his life. I can be proud of him, not only for his achievements but for his loyalty to his family and his love for his wife. I think I can hear the Lord say to him...."Well done, my good and faithful servant."
Thanks, Dad. You showed us the way.
And we don't have fathers anymore. But Rob is a father to our four wonderful children, so we carry on the tradition.
It's actually a wonderful day to take the time to remember and honor our dad's. To think about all they have been to us, and appreciate their dedication to the family.
My children are so blessed to have grown up surrounded by men of honor and integrity. Something missing frequently in our present day world of compromise. They have seen in action what it means to be a dad, a good dad. Someone who is loyal and kind, honest and firm, godly and compassionate. They have seen three men who have had to make hard decisions, difficult choices, and keep their commitments to their families, their work and to their Lord. My boys have good role models.
My sisters and I grew up with a Dad that was the head of the family, and loved his "girls", which included my mom, unconditionally. He was so talented, a B-17 pilot, and captian in WWII, flying 35 missions in Europe and bringing his crew and formation back safely every time.....although many of the plane limped back to England. He had a jazz band from high school, where he met my mom at a high school dance where he was performing. He married when he returned from the war, became a flight instructor, then back to New York to get a position in the bank. He went to night school on the GI bill at Columbia. And when I was in high school he was still going to school, getting his Masters from Brown. He was a hard worker, working three jobs to provide for his family. He eventually became the president of the bank and on the board of directors. A plaque of honor sits on Ethan's desk now, commending my dad for his service to the bank, and the community. He was known for his honesty and integrity in the business world. He had many positions in the church and audited the CMA's books each year for quite a while. And he always planted a big vegetable garden. If anyone needed any help, he was there and could be counted on.
But one of my favorite rememberances of him was his dedication to my mom. She had Alzheimers for about 10 years before she died. It was difficult. At first he tried to commensate for her. But eventually, my sister, the non medical person said, "we've got to take mom to the doctor, there's really something wrong with her". It was difficult and not easy to care for her. She was not herself anymore, she was angry and beligerant at times, frightened at other times. She would run away and get lost. He took over the cooking, something he never did before. He did the washing, the house cleaning and the shopping. And the getting her dressed, which was actually funny sometimes. One Sunday she came out all dressed and I looked at her and said....Dad, I think you put her dress on backwards! So off they went to the bedroom to turn it around.
But every day he would tell her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. He would not leave her, because, at the end, he was the only one she sort of recognized. That's honor and integrity. It's not the way they hoped they would end up but he was loving and kind to the very end.
I appreciate my Dad for the way he lived his life. I can be proud of him, not only for his achievements but for his loyalty to his family and his love for his wife. I think I can hear the Lord say to him...."Well done, my good and faithful servant."
Thanks, Dad. You showed us the way.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Three Celebrations
Our Birthday group celebrated three different occassions today...
I usually have a birthday party for my friend, Ann, sometimes at camp, sometimes at 42, but today we celebrated at Litengard. She loved my chickens and went home with 9 hard boiled eggs. I tried to make deviled eggs, hard boiled them but when I tried to peel them, they were impossible. I've never made deviled eggs before and I used ultra fresh eggs (just layed right before boiling). I didn't realize that I should have plunged them in ice water after they boiled. The shells were sticking like glue to the whites so they were not coming out so pretty. I did learn a lot of tricks for when I hard boil eggs in the future though, and Ann went home with eggs to make egg salad. She was happy.
My other friend, Anne, is from Canada and has recently become a citizen here. We celebrated with flags, red, white and blue candles, ribbons and we all sang the Star Spangled Banner with Lee Greenwood. She gets to vote now!!
Our other friend, Mayme, is moving to Maine at the end of the month. We're sad to see her go but have enjoyed her friendship for the last couple of years.
It was fun to all get together today. There were 11 out of the 14 who usually get together for our birthdays. We caught up on weddings, new jobs, children's activities, future wedding plans, gardens, books read, and vacations.
We've been doing this for 10 years now. Friendship. Love. Concern. Enjoyment. Fun!
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day........On the Farm
We had a short video at church yesterday about Memorial Day. A day to remember those soldiers who have died in active duty. It's been four years but I could not look at the pictures of Arlington. It was like opening up a wound. Too many memories that are still too vivid.
But......
It was a beautiful Memorial Day here in upstate New York.
It actually felt like summer here. And for most of the holiday weekend, we worked on the "farm". Ethan came up from New York City, where it was beautiful and Aunt June came to visit for the weekend from New Hampshire.
Went to Lowes today and got supplies for fencing in part of the side yard at 42. Christian mowed the Litengard lawn, finally the rain stopped long enough to mow. And boy was it a job...had to go slowly and empty the bag frequently. And then he and Rob began putting in posts for the new yard for the babies. Only four will go over, two are roosters and will continue in the barn until it is time for Christian to take them to the Noble Farm for their ultimate future......which will be on our dinner table.
Ethan was home for the weekend and participated in making a deck floor for the prefab chicken "barn". Unfortunately the completed chicken barn picture did not get inserted so I will have to show you the "barn" on another post.
I planted my some of my tomatoes, after attending an auction briefly with adopted neice Carol. Rob is stabilizing the wire tomato cages made by his dad years ago. Hope my tomatoes are as magnificent as they were last year. I did get a couple of new heirloom varieties and I'm anxious to see how they do.
Ethan modified a new raised bed for me that is located behind the barn at Litengard. Hope to have my cauliflower over there.
Aunt June met the chickens and collected the eggs each morning, just like she did when she was a girl. She's always busy and looking for projects. She helped construct the new chicken "barn", weeded, and dug some plants to bring home to New Hampshire. She strung my netting for the peas, and helped plant the tomatoes. At 83 years old I think she is doing great!
But......
It was a beautiful Memorial Day here in upstate New York.
It actually felt like summer here. And for most of the holiday weekend, we worked on the "farm". Ethan came up from New York City, where it was beautiful and Aunt June came to visit for the weekend from New Hampshire.
Went to Lowes today and got supplies for fencing in part of the side yard at 42. Christian mowed the Litengard lawn, finally the rain stopped long enough to mow. And boy was it a job...had to go slowly and empty the bag frequently. And then he and Rob began putting in posts for the new yard for the babies. Only four will go over, two are roosters and will continue in the barn until it is time for Christian to take them to the Noble Farm for their ultimate future......which will be on our dinner table.
Ethan was home for the weekend and participated in making a deck floor for the prefab chicken "barn". Unfortunately the completed chicken barn picture did not get inserted so I will have to show you the "barn" on another post.
I planted my some of my tomatoes, after attending an auction briefly with adopted neice Carol. Rob is stabilizing the wire tomato cages made by his dad years ago. Hope my tomatoes are as magnificent as they were last year. I did get a couple of new heirloom varieties and I'm anxious to see how they do.
Ethan modified a new raised bed for me that is located behind the barn at Litengard. Hope to have my cauliflower over there.
Aunt June met the chickens and collected the eggs each morning, just like she did when she was a girl. She's always busy and looking for projects. She helped construct the new chicken "barn", weeded, and dug some plants to bring home to New Hampshire. She strung my netting for the peas, and helped plant the tomatoes. At 83 years old I think she is doing great!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Finishing Strong
As my eyes scanned the titles of the books on the shelf, they stopped at this one.
I"m looking for a book to read in the morning as part of my devotions.
Finishing Strong.
Yes, that was what I always wanted to do.
Finish strong.
And now, if I go by national average I'm inching up to the finish line. But, if I live to be 100 years I'm only ten plus years beyond half way.
I take the book out. It is a book from Christian's library. A book I spotted when Liz was sorting through and packing up. "Can I take this one?" "Sure".
He had such a varied interest in books. But the thing that I loved was that he was interested in being better, learning more, and applying knowledge. I know that I have told you this before but when I went downstairs to "his" room in Italy and saw the book about developing a good marriage opened by his lounge chair, as if he just got up from reading, I knew that he was and would have been a wonderful husband and father.
Finishing Strong.....it's a book for men. It's about going the distance for your family. But why can't I read it? Us girls want to finish strong too.
So I open the cover and begin to read.
The Priority of finishing strong. So few do, finish strong. We need to make it a priority. Oh sure, we all finish. But what will we look like? So many road blocks, wrong turns, and just plan lack of endurance. Finishing strong requires some things...., grit, determination, a vision and finishing power. And most of all the time devoted to developing a moral and spiritual character so that no matter what comes up or at you, you can continue on with the Lord.
Steve Farrar talks about the perils to finishing strong. Lots of perils. Sin can shipwreck ones life. Spending more time on externals rather than the eternal. A person's character not keeping pace with their accomplishments. Being unteachable and unaccountable.
And the prototypes of a stong finisher. I have many older women in my life that have been a prototypes of a stong finisher. One of my good friends, Fran, is 83. I called her on Mother's Day and she was lamenting to me that she is sometimes so frustrated with herself because she feels herself getting lazy. "WHAT?" Now this woman taught 1st grade Sunday school every week until last year. For twenty five years she did a monthly meeting on Women of the Bible. She was the area director of CBS for the whole south east until a couple of years ago. When I visited her in South Carolina this past spring she gave a reception for another lady in ministy for 40 people in her home. And then two weeks later had 30 ladies from church over for lunch. She sends out about 25 birthday cards to different friends each month and calls me every birthday and sings to me. She was the lady who sent me a "care" package every week when I was in Hope Lodge. She loves the Lord and people. She's modeled finishing strong for so many girls. I want to be like that.
I want to live out this verse from I Corinthians 16
"Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong"
And from I Timothy"
"And I thank Christ Jesus my Lord, who has enaabled me, for he counted me faithful"
I"m looking for a book to read in the morning as part of my devotions.
Finishing Strong.
Yes, that was what I always wanted to do.
Finish strong.
And now, if I go by national average I'm inching up to the finish line. But, if I live to be 100 years I'm only ten plus years beyond half way.
I take the book out. It is a book from Christian's library. A book I spotted when Liz was sorting through and packing up. "Can I take this one?" "Sure".
He had such a varied interest in books. But the thing that I loved was that he was interested in being better, learning more, and applying knowledge. I know that I have told you this before but when I went downstairs to "his" room in Italy and saw the book about developing a good marriage opened by his lounge chair, as if he just got up from reading, I knew that he was and would have been a wonderful husband and father.
Finishing Strong.....it's a book for men. It's about going the distance for your family. But why can't I read it? Us girls want to finish strong too.
So I open the cover and begin to read.
The Priority of finishing strong. So few do, finish strong. We need to make it a priority. Oh sure, we all finish. But what will we look like? So many road blocks, wrong turns, and just plan lack of endurance. Finishing strong requires some things...., grit, determination, a vision and finishing power. And most of all the time devoted to developing a moral and spiritual character so that no matter what comes up or at you, you can continue on with the Lord.
Steve Farrar talks about the perils to finishing strong. Lots of perils. Sin can shipwreck ones life. Spending more time on externals rather than the eternal. A person's character not keeping pace with their accomplishments. Being unteachable and unaccountable.
And the prototypes of a stong finisher. I have many older women in my life that have been a prototypes of a stong finisher. One of my good friends, Fran, is 83. I called her on Mother's Day and she was lamenting to me that she is sometimes so frustrated with herself because she feels herself getting lazy. "WHAT?" Now this woman taught 1st grade Sunday school every week until last year. For twenty five years she did a monthly meeting on Women of the Bible. She was the area director of CBS for the whole south east until a couple of years ago. When I visited her in South Carolina this past spring she gave a reception for another lady in ministy for 40 people in her home. And then two weeks later had 30 ladies from church over for lunch. She sends out about 25 birthday cards to different friends each month and calls me every birthday and sings to me. She was the lady who sent me a "care" package every week when I was in Hope Lodge. She loves the Lord and people. She's modeled finishing strong for so many girls. I want to be like that.
I want to live out this verse from I Corinthians 16
"Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong"
And from I Timothy"
"And I thank Christ Jesus my Lord, who has enaabled me, for he counted me faithful"
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Be Still and Know........Work, Work, Work
There is a tension to Spring.
As we emerge out of our winter slumber, filled with images of whiteness and brown barrenness, we want to stand still and see the restorative creation taking place around us.
But.......
There are chores, that have to get done.
Porches to sweep and wash.
Furniture to set out for the summer.
Storm windows to remove and store and screens to wash and set in.
Gardens and borders to rake.
Grass to mow.
Patios to sweep and set up.
Manure to secure for gardens.
Seeds to start in greenhouse.
Gardens to till and plant.
Driveways- sweep the winter sand away.
Pots to drag out, fill and set in respective places around house and garden.
Air conditioners to install.
And on and on the chores go....
But what my soul, and sometimes my body, wants is to be still....
And see, observe the emerging life from deadness...
and the resurrection of new spring life.
How could it be that the snow covered that ground only days ago and now I see that one green shoot emerging from the ground. Everything looked dead, but there was life growing underneath.
I wish I could sit one day and watch my peonies....because they seem to grow about 6 inches a day. Would I actually see that slow but steady ascent and that almost miraculous development of that beautiful bud? That magic seems to happen at night, and in the morning we are treated to new hope, new life and new expectation.
The crocus, daffodils and now the tulips are almost finished here. It actually has been a long season for them this year. The hostas are unfurled, the peonies are over 2 feet tall and loaded with buds. The lilacs have emerged and are scenting the air.
And while standing on the porch last weekend enjoying the blossoming life, I saw a hummingbird. I thought it was early, they are already back from South America. Now there's determination for you. And as I think of them romantically, my cardinal couple, are back in the neighborhood. He's always first, his bright red feathers glowing, assessing the situation before allowing his mate to proceed. They always travel together. Whenever I see one, I patiently look for the other.....they are never far away from each other. Sort of like my mom and dad. And the bird feeder is full of goldfinches, so sweet and little. How did you survive the winter? And if I'm really quiet I not only hear the Piliated Woodpecker but I can see his large red head extracting unsuspecting bugs from the tree trunk. Now to see the Bard Owl in the large spruce behind Litengard.
Spring is for standing still. For observing with wonder God's grace, and beauty, and love. God resurrecting things that seemed to be dead and gone. No not really gone, just for a season. Out of sight.
But now that magnificent explosion of all shades of green, of life, of color and hope. Of new plants and once seemingly dead, seeds, lying dormant in a package...now they burst forth from the ground and shortly we will be munching on peas and beans, and those tiny sprigs of lime green will be nourishing carrots and beets.
Spring is a wonder. It's a hope and a joy.
Our spiritual life is a bit like spring. We do have to work, oh not for our salvation, totally bought and paid for by Jesus. But we do have to work to put God's word in our hearts, to reach out to our neighbors and friends and be Jesus's hands and heart to them. We need to work to be still and meditate and pray for our family, our villages and our country, God's work here and abroad.
But isn't it wonderful to sit back and enjoy God's creation, to see Him work in our lives and in the lives of our family and friends, to experience God's gifts he's given to those around us and to bask in the beauty of Spring!
"Be still and know that I am God,"
Monday, April 25, 2011
To Raise Us From The Grave
Easter has come and we have celebrated.......the greatest day in history, empty cross and empty grave. Death were is your string, grave where is your victory?
Hope is here, now. Present with us day by day, hour by hour.
I love this scripture in I Peter 1:3-5
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again unto a living hope by the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. To an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that fades not away, reserved in heaven for you. Who are guarded by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time."
We have been begotten to a living hope, something that is real and lasting by Jesus's resurrection from the grave. And our reward for that is that we, those of us who call on the name of Jesus, have an inheritance waiting for us. An inheritance which is better than money, houses, property, jewelry, cars or anything else that will eventually fade away.
And besides that it is reserved in heaven for us, and we are guarded by the power of God. And we extend our faith towards that hope and God keeps, guards and encourages our faith at all times.
Really, really wonderful.
Elizabeth and Jon did not get to come home for Easter, they both work at jobs where their responsibilities don't understand that Easter is a holiday. I think Jon spent the day in the operating room, and Elizabeth helped take care of the 40 premies that need love, attention and sometimes a miracle. But she did get to come home a couple of days later and get to see her lovely spread of daffodils and many of her good friends around the area.
We did get to celebrate with Ethan and Christian and Grandma and Uncle Don. We ate Easter dinner at Litengard, on Grandma's dining room table. I love that front room at the inn with the ceiling to floor windows. The ham, from Oscars, was perfect and we did have left over birthday cake from celebrating Ethan's birthday the evening before with friends from Madrid.
So all in all, it has been a wonderful week. I was blessed to see youngest and oldest of my human peeps. And we celebrated a birthday and a resurrection.
Memories.
Hope is here, now. Present with us day by day, hour by hour.
I love this scripture in I Peter 1:3-5
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again unto a living hope by the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. To an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that fades not away, reserved in heaven for you. Who are guarded by the power of God through faith unto salvation ready to be revealed in the last time."
We have been begotten to a living hope, something that is real and lasting by Jesus's resurrection from the grave. And our reward for that is that we, those of us who call on the name of Jesus, have an inheritance waiting for us. An inheritance which is better than money, houses, property, jewelry, cars or anything else that will eventually fade away.
And besides that it is reserved in heaven for us, and we are guarded by the power of God. And we extend our faith towards that hope and God keeps, guards and encourages our faith at all times.
Really, really wonderful.
Elizabeth and Jon did not get to come home for Easter, they both work at jobs where their responsibilities don't understand that Easter is a holiday. I think Jon spent the day in the operating room, and Elizabeth helped take care of the 40 premies that need love, attention and sometimes a miracle. But she did get to come home a couple of days later and get to see her lovely spread of daffodils and many of her good friends around the area.
We did get to celebrate with Ethan and Christian and Grandma and Uncle Don. We ate Easter dinner at Litengard, on Grandma's dining room table. I love that front room at the inn with the ceiling to floor windows. The ham, from Oscars, was perfect and we did have left over birthday cake from celebrating Ethan's birthday the evening before with friends from Madrid.
So all in all, it has been a wonderful week. I was blessed to see youngest and oldest of my human peeps. And we celebrated a birthday and a resurrection.
Memories.
Monday, April 18, 2011
The Upgrade
The "girls" got a bit of an upgrade recently.
So they will no longer be the "girls". We have to refer to them as the "ladies".
And the word coop will no longer be appropriate. It is now the "residence".
We had to raise the top of the nesting boxes. Our layers must be quite a bit larger then the previous hens who utilized the current nesting boxes. Our ladies were a bit large to fit into the previous model of boxes so we raised the roof to enable them to get in easier. I don't think they are offended at my evaluation of their size. They seem to strut around proudly displaying their plumage.
They needed more light. Chickens need 14-16 hours of light to produce eggs at a regular rate. The current coop did not have any electricity so my resident electrician rectified that situation and wired up the coop. And since we already had an old chandelier stashed in the barn we thought we would use it.
But now you can see that they no longer respond to the "girls".....but have taken on an aire about themselves and demand greater recognition.
We're having way too much fun with these chickens.
So they will no longer be the "girls". We have to refer to them as the "ladies".
And the word coop will no longer be appropriate. It is now the "residence".
We had to raise the top of the nesting boxes. Our layers must be quite a bit larger then the previous hens who utilized the current nesting boxes. Our ladies were a bit large to fit into the previous model of boxes so we raised the roof to enable them to get in easier. I don't think they are offended at my evaluation of their size. They seem to strut around proudly displaying their plumage.
They needed more light. Chickens need 14-16 hours of light to produce eggs at a regular rate. The current coop did not have any electricity so my resident electrician rectified that situation and wired up the coop. And since we already had an old chandelier stashed in the barn we thought we would use it.
But now you can see that they no longer respond to the "girls".....but have taken on an aire about themselves and demand greater recognition.
We're having way too much fun with these chickens.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
A Sacredness.......
"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness but power. They speak more eloquently that ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwelming grief, of deep contrition and of unspeakable love."
Washington Irving
Reflecting on life this morning, I say this is true.
Overwhelming grief at the loss of a life so young and the possibility of a wonderful new family filled with adventure, love, stories, vacations and children. The loss of a sister not old enough to go and parents who were so special.
Deep contrition over actions and inactions. Over words said and words not said. Over sin and self focus.
And unspeakable love.....That my God has for me and I for Him. A love so bold and deep that my Savior gave His life for me. A husband's love experienced and a fountain of love; so strong, so powerful, flowing continuously to four beautiful, wonderful blessings.
Washington Irving
Reflecting on life this morning, I say this is true.
Overwhelming grief at the loss of a life so young and the possibility of a wonderful new family filled with adventure, love, stories, vacations and children. The loss of a sister not old enough to go and parents who were so special.
Deep contrition over actions and inactions. Over words said and words not said. Over sin and self focus.
And unspeakable love.....That my God has for me and I for Him. A love so bold and deep that my Savior gave His life for me. A husband's love experienced and a fountain of love; so strong, so powerful, flowing continuously to four beautiful, wonderful blessings.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Our First Dozen
The first dozen have already been secured.
Actually I have around 16 eggs now, all since Monday. The girls are good producers. I think they like their new home
Rob actually got home before 10:00pm last night, so he wanted to see how I "put the girls to bed for the night". I showed him my little routine and when he went into the coop he found an egg. He was so excited to get his first egg!
My first dozen.
My neighbor, Anne, thought we should name the girls. When I told Aunt June about naming the chickens she said they should have Norwegian names. We thought about that, looked on line for Scandinavian names, and then decided on some names that we were familiar with from our family.
This is a Rhode Island Red and we named her Gurli.
This is a Golden Laced Wyondotte, we named her after my great grandmother, Gurine.
Astrid is our Golden Comet. She is the smallest of our flock, just like my grandmother who was the most petite in our family.
Brigitta is the name for our Delaware.
Then we have the twin Buff Orphingtons who now are called Rigmar and Borghild.
For those of you not familiar with Norwegian names these may seem like tongue twisters. But we are following the theme of our new enterprise, even to our chickens. Actually, I have recently become aware of some heritage chickens from Sweden, Swedish Flower Hens. They are a bred that have been found in some remote villages of Sweden and have been brought over here to the USA to keep the bred going by conscientiously breeding and raising flocks. They are very pretty, and maybe if my experiment goes well I get a few someday. Well see.
Meanwhile, I'm having fun with my little group of cluckers.
Actually I have around 16 eggs now, all since Monday. The girls are good producers. I think they like their new home
Rob actually got home before 10:00pm last night, so he wanted to see how I "put the girls to bed for the night". I showed him my little routine and when he went into the coop he found an egg. He was so excited to get his first egg!
My first dozen.
My neighbor, Anne, thought we should name the girls. When I told Aunt June about naming the chickens she said they should have Norwegian names. We thought about that, looked on line for Scandinavian names, and then decided on some names that we were familiar with from our family.
This is a Rhode Island Red and we named her Gurli.
This is a Golden Laced Wyondotte, we named her after my great grandmother, Gurine.
Astrid is our Golden Comet. She is the smallest of our flock, just like my grandmother who was the most petite in our family.
Brigitta is the name for our Delaware.
Then we have the twin Buff Orphingtons who now are called Rigmar and Borghild.
For those of you not familiar with Norwegian names these may seem like tongue twisters. But we are following the theme of our new enterprise, even to our chickens. Actually, I have recently become aware of some heritage chickens from Sweden, Swedish Flower Hens. They are a bred that have been found in some remote villages of Sweden and have been brought over here to the USA to keep the bred going by conscientiously breeding and raising flocks. They are very pretty, and maybe if my experiment goes well I get a few someday. Well see.
Meanwhile, I'm having fun with my little group of cluckers.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The First 24 Hours...A Saga
The girls are here......and we survived the first 24 hours.
They came at dusk, around 8:00pm, on Sunday.
Rob and I had worked the weekend on getting the coop ready, the nesting boxes modified and attached to the wall, the bedding spread, the roosting bars made and secured, the waterer and feeder in place and filled, and we built an outside pen so they could roam and scratch a bit.
After we got them settled in their new home, Rob had to go to the office to do some work. When he came home aroung 10:30pm, he said the girls were all roosting and everything seemed calm. How cute! He had gone in with a flashlight to check and see if they were doing okay before he came home.
And on Monday morning they had their first visitors. They seemed very happy with their new diggs and were very friendly and inquisitive with all the new faces. We have 1 Delaware, she is white with a bit of black and she seems the most standoffish, 2 buff orphingtons, they are both the largest and friendiest of the group, 1 rhode island red who is dark brownish red, 1 golden comet who is the smallest and 1 golden laced wyondotte who is brown with black markings and green tips on her wings...she's the prettiest and my favorite.
And on Monday afternoon we had our first egg.
And on Tuesday we had four.
We had a bit of a scare and calamity of errors on Monday afternoon, but all turned out okay. I had spent the morning entertaining visitors. Christian came with Roger and I immediately put him in the house so Christian could see the hens. I had to spend much of the afternoon with the tech guys on some issues with my bed and breakfast software. Rob had some banking he wanted me to do and I noticied it was getting near to closing time so I rushed back home and got my things together to go out, got Roger and put him in the car and off we went. After some additional errands in the next village we headed home and I realized that Roger had not been out for a walk for most of the day so I knew he was anxious to go out. We got home and I just opened the door for Roger to leave without thinking and off he raced to the chicken coop. I jumped out of the car to chase after him not realizing that I had not put the truck in park, and I could not get back fast enough to stop the slow steady movement right into the support columns of the open porch next to the garage. By that time, my friend Dave, who had been working on the house next to Litengard ran over to tell me that the chickens were out, having jumped the 5 foot fence and were in the neighbors bushes. Then he saw the truck and the semi collapsed roof of the porch.
"Are you okay"? Yes, I was fine but, oh no, my first day on the chicken job after getting special permission from the village and they are already out and about the neighborhood!
It turned out that it was just one, my favorite, the golden laced wyondotte. We secured Roger in the house and went hunting for the loose chicken. We went around the neighbors house several times until he came out and asked what we were doing. "Looking for a chicken" we said. "A chicken?" "Yes" was our only reply as we continued to look everywhere. And then I spotted her, crouched under a bush, almost invisible.
Dave who had chickens when he was growing up said he would get her and he lunged for her and she squirted right out of his hands.
And there we were, the two of us adults, chasing this poor little chicken all around main street, desperately trying to keep her out of the traffic. We finally got her headed back onto our property and towards the barn. Once she got in the barn, Dave ran around to the back and opened the coop door and in she went.
Whew! Safe and sound and no fatalities. The books make it sound so easy.
Dave came back to the house and went to work on getting boards secured under the roof to brace it up until we could get the jacks out and the posts back up. Two came down in tact but one, not so much. I was so glad that Dave was there and knew what to do. He's worked so much around our house that he just got the equipment and went to work, however we could not find the big silver jack that could have solved the problem then and there.
However, now that the posts are down....perhaps I'll do something else with that space. Is that called making lemonade out of lemons?
But today was uneventful!
They came at dusk, around 8:00pm, on Sunday.
Rob and I had worked the weekend on getting the coop ready, the nesting boxes modified and attached to the wall, the bedding spread, the roosting bars made and secured, the waterer and feeder in place and filled, and we built an outside pen so they could roam and scratch a bit.
After we got them settled in their new home, Rob had to go to the office to do some work. When he came home aroung 10:30pm, he said the girls were all roosting and everything seemed calm. How cute! He had gone in with a flashlight to check and see if they were doing okay before he came home.
And on Monday morning they had their first visitors. They seemed very happy with their new diggs and were very friendly and inquisitive with all the new faces. We have 1 Delaware, she is white with a bit of black and she seems the most standoffish, 2 buff orphingtons, they are both the largest and friendiest of the group, 1 rhode island red who is dark brownish red, 1 golden comet who is the smallest and 1 golden laced wyondotte who is brown with black markings and green tips on her wings...she's the prettiest and my favorite.
And on Monday afternoon we had our first egg.
And on Tuesday we had four.
We had a bit of a scare and calamity of errors on Monday afternoon, but all turned out okay. I had spent the morning entertaining visitors. Christian came with Roger and I immediately put him in the house so Christian could see the hens. I had to spend much of the afternoon with the tech guys on some issues with my bed and breakfast software. Rob had some banking he wanted me to do and I noticied it was getting near to closing time so I rushed back home and got my things together to go out, got Roger and put him in the car and off we went. After some additional errands in the next village we headed home and I realized that Roger had not been out for a walk for most of the day so I knew he was anxious to go out. We got home and I just opened the door for Roger to leave without thinking and off he raced to the chicken coop. I jumped out of the car to chase after him not realizing that I had not put the truck in park, and I could not get back fast enough to stop the slow steady movement right into the support columns of the open porch next to the garage. By that time, my friend Dave, who had been working on the house next to Litengard ran over to tell me that the chickens were out, having jumped the 5 foot fence and were in the neighbors bushes. Then he saw the truck and the semi collapsed roof of the porch.
"Are you okay"? Yes, I was fine but, oh no, my first day on the chicken job after getting special permission from the village and they are already out and about the neighborhood!
It turned out that it was just one, my favorite, the golden laced wyondotte. We secured Roger in the house and went hunting for the loose chicken. We went around the neighbors house several times until he came out and asked what we were doing. "Looking for a chicken" we said. "A chicken?" "Yes" was our only reply as we continued to look everywhere. And then I spotted her, crouched under a bush, almost invisible.
Dave who had chickens when he was growing up said he would get her and he lunged for her and she squirted right out of his hands.
And there we were, the two of us adults, chasing this poor little chicken all around main street, desperately trying to keep her out of the traffic. We finally got her headed back onto our property and towards the barn. Once she got in the barn, Dave ran around to the back and opened the coop door and in she went.
Whew! Safe and sound and no fatalities. The books make it sound so easy.
Dave came back to the house and went to work on getting boards secured under the roof to brace it up until we could get the jacks out and the posts back up. Two came down in tact but one, not so much. I was so glad that Dave was there and knew what to do. He's worked so much around our house that he just got the equipment and went to work, however we could not find the big silver jack that could have solved the problem then and there.
However, now that the posts are down....perhaps I'll do something else with that space. Is that called making lemonade out of lemons?
But today was uneventful!
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