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.

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.

November 8, 2011

Remembering......

Christian

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.

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!

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!

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