the season has arrived

"'Tis the season" seems to have arrived in a big rush this year with our American Thanksgiving being so late in the month. It's almost time to flip the calendar page and December will be here.  I try to get our decorations up right after Thanksgiving so we have four weeks to enjoy them--since it's a lot of work--or seems more so each year!

I appreciate help putting the ornaments on the tree and this year when the grandchildren were here for Thanksgiving they became my little assistants.

I assume there will be a density of ornaments at the bottom of the

tree but not so much this year. It was all about climbing

the ladder, and they took turns going up with a fistful of ornaments.

It was a busy day.

At the end of the day after everyone has left, I actually enjoy cleaning

up the kitchen. I turn on some music, organize the mess, 

take my time, and find it all relaxing.

Joining Monday Mosaics.

a butterfly in fall

     From a cocoon forth a butterfly

     As lady from her door

     Emerged--a summer afternoon--

     Repairing everywhere.

    Without design, that I could trace.

    Except to stray abroad

    On miscellaneous enterprise

    The clovers understood….

                           from "The Butterfly's Day" by Emily Dickenson

    Photo by my sister, butterfly in her fall Florida garden

      

flying fingers

I've gotten pretty good at texting. I like it because it's almost always read where

you don't always know about an email. I'm amazed at how quickly my fingers 

now fly over those little keys. 

(Checking it over is a must before sending for sure.)

It's quick and efficient. I've never liked talking on the phone, and you can communicate 

and get a lot accomplished through texting. 

It allows the recipient to read it when they have time, rather than being 

interrupted by a phone call. If I had to do a phone call instead of each text, 

I'd get so much less done in a day … and probably go "batty."

I looked back at my texts this week before I cleared some away. 

They included a question about breastfeeding; a recipe; "Love you" from one son 

and picture of the grands from the other; quick discussion with my sister about a movie; 

 update on a sick friend; cancelation of a coffee date; a question about 

table decorations . . . and more. 

if walls could talk

"If walls could talk, we've often thought, what stories they would tell.

"But if we're slow to grasp the message of an open front door,

a clean-scrubbed floor, or a hand-made object comfortable with its age

and imperfections, perhaps we're not listening well.

"The language of a house is visual.

"The soul of a house is memory. And it speaks to the heart."

~from Simple Country Pleasures in

Country Living Magazine, March 2001

Joining in Mosaic Monday.

story teller

 I mentioned last week that I had a favorite piece of art at the 

Meijer Gardens that we visited in Michigan.

I was immediately drawn to this sculpture of an old man telling a young girl a story.

 I'd like to think it's a grandfather.

Love how she's holding his pinkie and she looks enthralled

as she listens intently.

Ahead of Her Time

Amy Carmichael was a woman ahead of her time. Back in the 1890s she worked hard
and fought long against what we now call human trafficking.

She went to India as a young woman and saw girls (especially)

being used as temple prostitutes. Little by little, one by one, she began to rescue them.

Eventually she established a home where as many as 900 children

lived out their childhood. She also started a hospital on the grounds.

And so we gathered around Bonifice's table on a rainy Monday morning.

Our friend in Germany took us on a tour of her new flat

before leading us via Skpye in discussing Amy Carmichael's biography.

This is a fairly new biography of Amy and some of us had read

others, as well as books that Amy has authored.
But no matter how much we read about her, we never get over

amazement at her sacrificial life ... how she mothered so many

children, how she never went back home to England for a visit, how she spent many
years in bed after a fall in her early 60s, how she never drew attention to herself ...

Our leader posed challenging questions because

Amy's was a life that demanded that.

Amy did much of her writing during the last 20 years  of her life, 

when she was mostly confined to her bed after an accident.

"Gone, they tell me, is youth,

Gone is the strength of my life,

Nothing remains but decline,

Nothing but age and decay.

Not so, I'm God's little child..

Only beginning to live;

Coming the days of my prime,

Coming the strength of my life,

Coming the vision of God,

Coming my bloom and my power."

A.C. 1935

the gardens

We enjoyed a day at the Meijer Gardens in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Masterpieces of art and nature mixed together naturally

in horticultural gardens and sculpture parks.

Autumn colors were peaking and gave a wonderful setting for it all.

Of course I enjoyed the children's area the most.

In each mosaic there is one image from the children's park.

I think you can easily guess which ones.

I'll be back another day with my favorite sculpture.