Tooth Fairy

It's always fun to visit our married kids that live a few hours away. The leaves are trying to change color (the drought has obviously affected that to some degree), but the ride was pretty and the cool air refreshing. Even 24 hours out of town can give us a boost.

When we walked into the guest room we found toothpaste and toothbrushes on our pillows. (This younger and youngest son of ours is almost a dentist.) We used to put quarters under our kids' pillows when they lost baby teeth ... I guess roles have changed!

ooo-la-la

GrandHotel-Brighton
Originally uploaded by podso

A proper British tea! Friends sent this photo of their tea in Brighton's Grand Hotel. They were remembering a dear mutual friend of ours on what would have been her 80th birthday! How we wish we could have joined them! She was smiling down from heaven, we think, on this her first birthday there. I "just happened" to be drinking a cup of tea from a box she had given us, when the email arrived. It made it even more of an "event." Mmmmm ...I'll have a scone please.

Drawing Light Out of Darkness

urn
Originally uploaded by podso

Nine years ago this month must have been a particularly difficult time in our lives. I remember it vaguely, and that a major computer crash topped it all off--both Spouse and I losing some important work. A note in my worn devotional book by the following reminds of that time, and God's faithfulness, for indeed, He made all things straight. I quote it here as it is as good for me today, as it was back then, and I love Robert Browning's poem at the end:

"If I believe in God, in a Being who made me, and fashioned me, and knows my wants and capacities and necessities, because He gave them to me, and who is perfectly good and loving, righteous, and perfectly wise and powerful,––whatever my circumstances inward or outward may be, however thick the darkness which encompasses me, I can trust, yea, be assured, that all will be well, that He can draw light out of darkness, and make crooked things straight."

Thomas Erskine (they wrote long sentences in the 19th century!)


God! Thou art love! I build my faith in that!
I know Thee, Thou has kept my path and made
Light for me in the darkness––tempering joy;
It were too strange that I should doubt Thy love.

Robert Browning

Where's Waldo?

MC Marathon 10-07 048
Originally uploaded by podso

Youngest son ran in and completed his first marathon last weekend in Washington DC ... 26+ miles! He trained long and hard for it. We are proud of him! If you know him can you spot him?

on the line

on the line
Originally uploaded by podso

A young mother-to-be wrote me today that she had "started washing the cloth diapers" as she prepares for her son's birth. In an instant I was back to that time in my life. My cloth diapers were huge--the tri-fold kind--and they did dry faster on a line than pre-folded. My most vivid memory of dealing with them was when we lived in West Africa and a wringer washing machine did its thing (or we did it together--every diaper rung through the wringer, into the rinse tub, and back through the ringer again!), and then they were hung out to dry. Very often they were rinsed once, twice, or even three times by rain showers before they were dry. They sure were stiff to fold, but bleached nicely by the sun (that is, on sunny days.) Seemed I did diapers almost every day.

They had to be folded. I suppose they could have been stuffed somewhere in a bag and pulled out when time for a diaper change, but they needed to get to diaper shape eventually, so the tidy Dutch--or is it German--in me got to folding them when they were dry. I did find that monotonous job a time to focus on and pray for my babies. When I mention this to young moms considering the pros and cons of cloth diapers today, they add this idea to the plus side. The environment likes cloth too ...

Outstanding photo was googled from somewhere

a change in the air

hot tea
Originally uploaded by podso

After last week's rain nourished the earth, today the air is clear and crisp and the skies are as blue as can be. Driving my mother home from a visit to my brother's north of us, the colors were turning on the trees and it was, as they say in the south, a "pretty day." I love these cool autumn days when the heat and humidity are finally gone, and we try to hold off turning on the furnace by wearing sweaters and lap blankets indoors. It's definitely time for some hot tea to warm the hands, if not the rest of me.

Women Thoughts

the airport
Originally uploaded by podso

I was standing by the hospital elevator having a conversation with a grandson of my father's college roommate. As we said good-bye and I walked away, I thought to myself, "What a moment." To think that some 65 years later, old friends' offspring would randomly meet more than a thousand miles from the college connection. That's the sort of thing that gives me kind of a thrill. One of those rare, random encounters. At dinner with my brother and his wife, I related the incident. My sister-in-law piped up, "I know exactly what you mean. I always wonder when I'm in an airport or in a large crowd, if I'm passing someone I know, or someone related to someone I know. Those possible just-misses are fun to think about."

"Oh my, I think about that too in an airport, or some crowded event," I continued, " What if I just passed the niece of our old pastor? Who knows how connected we all really are?" Spouse and my brother looked at each other, totally stymied.

"Must be how women think." Well, at least these two women.

Rain Don't Go Away

rain don't go away
Originally uploaded by podso

It's still raining! A wonderfully dreary day again today. Not sick of it yet, it's been so long without. All day yesterday and today it's been steady, soft rain ... just what we need! I can't complain about all the mud and leaves being tracked in by humans and dogs ... we cherish God's blessing! And I'll end this rain conversation!

More Than Enough

floods
Originally uploaded by podso

In the West African country where we lived years ago, they are dealing with heavy rains causing great destruction. In a letter I received from a friend there, she said that instead of the usual question we ask: "Why did God allow this to happen?" the local people are asking, "What did we do to God?" Interesting perspective. One way says the problem is God's fault and the other says it's our own fault.

She goes on to say that stories are sad about folks losing almost everything they own. But all the people she speaks with do not question God or what He is doing. Rather they are thankful that no one was hurt when their rooms (houses) fell.

Many agencies are surveying the damage to see what they can do to help, and some help will come, but it will be a long time until the area recovers from a disaster of this size.

No flooding here, but the rains continue ... today might be a slow steady rain. A good soaking is what we need. But let's not forget those far away who have had too much rain, and in CA, too much fire.

It's Raining!

rainy day
Originally uploaded by podso

Again today, and maybe tomorrow! God pays attention to our prayers.

Speaking of Letters ...

Italian stationery
Originally uploaded by podso

I got this letter today and I wish you could appreciate the beauty of the paper with the rough edges and the water marks, both on envelope and stationery! A keeper for sure. By the way, it's raining!

English Tea

English tea
Originally uploaded by podso

It's a dead give away when I wake up in the morning and have no desire for a cup of coffee. Instead, a cup of hot tea does wonders. Such it is today as this virus, whatever it is, continues its march throughout my respiratory system. Today is a dreary, humid day. As I sipped my tea I was taken back to the bridge teashop in Bath that rainy day over a year ago when Spouse and I squeezed into a corner table for a meat pie and cuppa. They don't make much of a fuss about tea in England. In fact, every cup we had in a public place was just as pictured here.

It's amazing how focused we are on the weather right now. It looks so much like it could, but it just doesn't rain. There's a feeling of tired expectancy as everything withers and dies. At least we don't have to mow. There's always a positive side to anything, no matter how mundane it might be.

Praying for Rain

the seed that never grew
Originally uploaded by podso

"If My people who are called by My name humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, will forgive their sin and will heal their land."

Last night our church called a special service to pray for rain. The drought in our area is truly serious. I still have some summer flowers blooming, but it's sad to see rotting, unfertiliized grass seed (and this was the year we needed to seed a new lawn), and dying shrubs and trees. I'm wondering when our city will put further restrictions on our water use. There are several things we're doing at our house to help. I guess it has to be one person at a time making a difference.

We were reminded last night that God in His loving providence knows our situation here. We trust Him fully.

Meanwhile, I'm remembering from our days without water in Ghana, how many things one can do with just one bucket of water!

more on letters ...

letter from grandfather
Originally uploaded by podso

This is not my story, but one I read:

"I ran short of money while visiting my brother, and borrowed $50 from him.

"After my return home, I wrote him a short letter every few weeks, enclosing a $5 check in each one. He called me up and told me how much he enjoyed the letters, regardless of the money; I had never written regularly before.

"Eventually I sent off a letter and the last five-dollar check.

"In my mail box the next week I found an envelope from my brother. Inside was another $50."

Red Letter Mail Day

Vermeer girl reading a letter
Originally uploaded by podso

"And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?"
~W.H. Auden

Seems that every day I look forward to the mail. Even in these days of email, there's a slight rise in suspense as I walk to the box. I just don't know what all might be in it when I pull down the lid. Junk mail is a given; some can be recycled on the way back into the house. The credit card offers can be torn in half; the bills piled high; and the endless catalogs can go right to the bathroom. But very occasionally ... out falls a treat ... yes, a REAL, handwritten letter or card.

The first clue is the hand written address. True, it could be an invite, but honed detective skills quickly rule that out. The envelope can be a gift in itself. I have one friend who makes envelopes from magazine pages that picture something I love. Others adorn an envelope with a sticker. And I always know an intentional letter writer when the stamp is above average. Obviously serious about their correspondence, they looked for nice stamps, not just the usual flag stamp.

When I get mail like this, it's a "red letter mail day". I wonder where that expression came from. I may google that later. If I have the time, I'll make a cup of tea before I sit down to open the letter, which I consider a true gift.

And why is it a gift? Because someone cared enough to get out pen, paper, envelope, a stamp, look up my address and actually write some thoughts down on paper. Something for me to think about, delight in, etc. Letters can be saved ... and read again and again. The handwriting might even tell us something ... was the writer feeling happy, writing in leisure, or stressed and dashing off a missive?

The other day I got such a letter from a very old friend. In fact, we didn't know each other all that well as we sat side by side in choir practice so long ago. She was expecting her first child and we connected in many ways. Somehow we kept in touch because we both cared about such a thing. When her kids were old enough to homeschool she asked me advice and I tried to encourage her. Even though it's easy to dash off an email, she took the time to write. And ...she has eight kids! One is off to college (that baby she was expecting) and the rest she teaches at home. I figure if she can find the time to write ...

... So can I. Because I know how nice getting a letter can be, I do my best to write them when I can ... not only to people far away but even to friends who live locally. Because there's just something about getting a letter ...

("Red letter day" comes from the practise of marking the dates of church festivals on calendars in red, way back in the 1500s--i.e., a special day.)

Just Me and My Pal

M*ch
Originally uploaded by podso

This old girl is really Spouse's dog, now that the kids have grown up. She licks his hands, not mine. She snuggles up to his chair, not mine. But when she needs something, she knows to go to her mama, a.k.a. "me."

Right now we are the sole occupants of this house. Spouse is winging his way to Europe and Resident Son is down south on a big project. Even my mom has gone out of town, so I don't need to keep track of her. It's a very unique experience for sure. Deliciously quiet, actually! I can do what I want, when I want, for a few days--other than the required hours at work. But right now, I have no choice, for it's time for us two gals to take a walk. She's passed me up in age by far and her arthritis shows more than mine, but off we'll go into the night air--two old friends. She "reads the news" at every mailbox, and I hope there isn't much news tonight, so I can get to bed.

Miracle In Its First Stage

chair at winghaven
Originally uploaded by podso

"Difficulty is the very atmosphere of miracle. It is miracle in its first stage. If it is to be a great miracle, the condition is not difficulty, but impossibility." So said Lilias Trotter, a young artist turned missionary to North Africa, when the 1800s were turning to the 1900s. She's a hero of mine. I don't know how to link, but if you paste this in your browser, you can learn more of this delightful and strong woman, and read her thoughts and see some of her beautiful artwork: www.unveiling.org/lily/glimpses.html

Gospel Pancakes

pancakes
Originally uploaded by podso

These pancakes are really oatmeal pancakes, or whole wheat pancakes, and I make them "blueberry pancakes." They are so popular by those who eat them, I have started calling them the "gospel pancakes" as they spread from one person to another; truely good news for pancake lovers in want of a healthy pancake. My aunt gave me the recipe and has made them ahead and frozen them (no more than two deep wrapped well for the freezer) and then warmed in the oven, or the batter can be made the night before. I like adding blueberries I've frozen, or dried blueberries. Or any fruit. They are great left over too! And no, this is not becoming a recipe blog. It's just with the weather finally cooling, there is more energy for cooking, and it's time for soup and hot, steamy cups of tea!

Oatmeal Pancakes
1 1/2 cups regular (or quick) oats
2 C buttermilk (or regular milk with a Tb of lemon)
2 eggs
2 Tb. canola oil
2 Tb. wheat germ
1/2 C whole wheat flour
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. sugar
1 tsp. salt
Optional: blueberries or other fruit pieces

Mix oats and buttermilk together in a large bowl and let stand. Beat eggs and add to mix. Add oil and wheat germ to mix. Sift together flour, soda, sugar, salt, and add to oatmeal mixture. Drop batter onto hot skilet grased with canola or pam.

Make the Soup!

make the soup!
Originally uploaded by podso

Black Bean Pumpkin Soup

3 15 1/2 oz. cans of black beans, rinsed and drained
1 C drained canned chopped tomatoes
1 1/4 C. chopped onions
1/2 C minced shallots (didn't use)
4 garlic cloves minced
1 Tb and 2 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp. pepper
1/2 stick butter
4 C chicken broth
1 16 ox can pureed pumpkin
1/2 C sherry vinegar (sometimes I just use white wine and a dash of vinegar).

Puree beans and tomatoes in blender. Cook onions, spices, and butter. Stir in bean puree. Stir in broth, pumpkin, and sherry. Season with salt and pepper. When you serve, garnish with a dolop of sour cream (and pumpkin seeds if you'd like!)

A Sacrifice Well Pleasing

the white church
Originally uploaded by podso

"If our hearts were tuned to praise, we should see causes unnumbered, which we had never seen before, for thanking God. Thanksgiving is spoken of as a "sacrifice well pleasing unto God." It is a far higher offering than prayer. When we pray we ask for things which we want; or we tell our sorrows. We pray in order to bring down blessings upon ourselves; we praise because our hearts overflow with love to God, and we must speak it out to Him. It flows out of pure love, and then the love goes back to our hearts, and warms them anew, and revives and quickens them."

As I look through my worn volume of "Joy and Strength" I find quite a number of quotes from Priscilla Maurice (she wrote the above), who died at age 44 before the Civil War occurred in our country. I found out she was her preacher-brother's housekeeper, but I could not determine if she ever married. Apparently she was a bit feisty and outspoken, as was her brother (a Unitarian turned Anglican). I got so engrossed in reading about her I began to wonder if she and I would have been friends. She wrote a lot about praise and being thankful ... very practical writing.

She is probably right that our prayers are mostly asking, where our praise is true worship, which God desires, and I like the idea of "hearts tuned to praise" and "praise because our hearts overflow with love to God." Kind of like "delighting in God." Something to chew on this hot, sticky Saturday afternoon.

Rain, Rain, Come This Way

pumpkin in the soup
Originally uploaded by podso

So much for our taste of fall. It's hot and the humidity feels like July. If we could just gather up all that humidity and shoot it to the skies so it could come down as rain. Last night we counted ten rain drops. That was the extent of the predicted possible rain. I just figured out why all the mums are already 50% off--they are all 50% dead.

Today it was black bean/pumpkin soup ... yum. I love days when I have time at home and can make soup. Actually we are expecting out of town guests and I am cooking and freezing stuff. We enjoyed a bowl of soup at lunch, but into the freezer it goes for next week. Very special friends are coming from up north. We all started our families together--I guess we've been friends for 30 years. We share a lot of common history, including sponsoring two Laotian families together years ago. When you work together like that, you get close. Even though we've lived apart much of those 30 years, when we meet we take up as if we've never been apart. That's quite a treasure. We'll have fun.

Welcome October

soup's on
Originally uploaded by podso

I love all seasons, but no Fall has never felt so welcome as it is this year after such a hot and dry summer. Now the mornings are delightfully cool with graciously warm afternoons. It's amazing how much more energy one has when it's not 100 degrees outside.

It's also time for soup--one of my favorite foods. Soup-making gives opportunity for creativity--like painting a picture or decorating a room. Just about anything can go into a soup and come out tasting like a five-star restaurant chef made it. The only problem is, it's hard to remember it exactly the same way for the next time. Today we just had to have soup to celebrate moving into October ... so it was sweet potato/salmon soup with some spinich thrown in for color. Yum!

In the Bag

its in the bag ...
Originally uploaded by podso

Whenever I hear the words "orange creamsicle," I think of my grandfather, who I knew only the first 6 1/2 years of my life. But if I actually bite into a creamsicle, I'm immediately transported back to my childhood summers when we'd visit my grandparents. A big treat for us was to hop into our grandfather's Ford pick up after he got home from work, and ride with him down to the local shop to pick up some orange creamsicles. Other times he would just bring some home from work with him. I'm sure that's what the bag in this photo contains! Even though it's been years since I've had one, I can close my eyes and taste one now.

What color would life be without a memory?

The Good Writer's Club

original from gradeschool
Originally uploaded by podso

We printed until second grade, and then began the practice of cursive writing. Back in those days we were taught the "Palmer Method," which had a few frills to it. I can remember starting with circles and loops in my practice book. This was also the year of the fountain pen for us second-graders. Before that, we wrote with pencils (I guess there were no ball point pens!). I can't remember how I got the pen--I assume my parents bought it for me. It might be worth something today, though the "nib" is needing replacement. It's a Sheaffer, and still fills up with ink via a "pneumatic down-stroke filler." I'm not sure why I always pull that little lever three times, seems that's overkill.

Anyway, by fourth grade we were writing pretty well, and always used script or cursive in our assignments. If our handwriting was sloppy, we were told about it! That year we had a "Good Writer's Club." This had nothing to do with content, only our penmanship. I love to write, and part of that is the actual art of writing, especially when there is a decent pen to write with (not including a ball-point!) There is nothing like a fountain pen for beautifully flowing hand writing, and I suppose the blobs and smudges just go along with the romance of the whole thing. I was honored by being a member in good standing of that "Good Writer's Club." But as far as today, I will say there is nothing like being a nurse to destroy one's handwriting (back before charting was done on computers.)

I enjoy writing a nice note to someone if the ink is flowing well! And it's interesting to see a letter arrive from one of my sisters or my mother--or even some cousins...amazing the similarities in our handwriting! That could be a whole study in itself! By the way, this photo is of my original fountain pen, ready to write in a lovely journal Boniface gifted me with!

Simply Put

nbn
Originally uploaded by podso

It was a very busy day today ... no time to stop and catch my breath. Ten wee ones to care for, mothers to teach, blood tests, admissions, etc. Midst it all I lost my notes, which is always my worst fear. I lost them for a long time and was totally helpless without them. I looked and looked and looked again and got into a near panic. I'd been praying, but I really stopped and prayed hard. "Lord show me." Very slowly, as if in time lapse, a picture came out of darkness into a clear focus, and I knew to look a certain place. There they were. Tucked under a baby's crib.

For the rest of the day it didn't matter how pressed I was, for I sailed around as if the best thing had just happened to (for) me. God heard and answered my prayer. He rescued me. Simply put.

Dab Painting

watchthedrips
Originally uploaded by podso

A somber mother watches as her son hops on a canal boat headed down to the bustling capital of Amsterdam. Once he reaches America, will she ever see him again? Tears spill down her cheeks as she goes back into the tavern and picks up her dish towel and continues to shine the glasses she has washed.

Over in the new world, a young man weary from his carpentry work, picks up his worn lunch pail and heads for home across a bridge over the Penny Pack Canal. When he opens the door of his modest home, he is bombarded with the rich aroma of a casserole coming out of the oven. The house is very small, but his wife keeps it spotlessly clean. A bit of lace and some fresh garden flowers in a juice glass adorn the worn table where the dinnerware lies ready for their meal.

Today I took a plastic cup with a small bit of paint and went up the ladder to do some touch up painting. Every time I dipped the brush into the paint I thought of my dad. I realized how many times I'd seen him do some dab painting with a similar small cup.

Then I began to marvel at how much of what I do everyday is similar to how someone else did it in my past. The blood of the generations before me courses through my veins, and with it genes that play a part in who I am. And its not just the blood connection--a lot of it stems from living with someone. So much of what I do is because of how my parents did things ... and they like their parents ... and eventually we get back to the little house on the creek in Pennsylvania, and the tavern in the small Holland town.

It's fascinating when you think about it. I guess sometimes we just can't help but be who we are. How fun it would be to really get a glimpse into my ancestors' lives. But I guess I have to look no further than at myself.

Arrrh...

arr....
Originally uploaded by podso

The phone rang and I recognized the voice of spouse's "twin" calling from Canada (two big guys with gray beards ... some refer to them as twins). I handed the phone to spouse and left the room. Suddenly I heard a loud "arrh" followed by a lot of pirate talk. Duh...I had forgotten. It's "national talk like a pirate day." Comes around every September 19th and spouse is one who celebrates it. For real. Google it.

Hark!

hearken; listen attentively
Originally uploaded by podso

En route to my Tuesday office this morning, a car in front of me sharply turned into a side street. I was startled to realize that I had turned into that same street a year ago this very day at the very same hour. A year ago my husband, on a cell phone from a city four hours away, had asked me to pull over for some news. He told me that he was sure he had another PE but felt he could drive home and did not want to go to the emergency room when he got here. A rather eventful day followed, not without extreme stress, and it's been a bit of a rollarcoaster ever since. But hark! Pause, listen attentively to what God has done in our lives over this year. God has sustained spouse; he is feeling better than he has in a long time; and we need to rejoice over God's abundant grace in our lives. And just some icing on the cake––the weather is cool, cool, cool today! Fall has come!

Back Again

not just another green
Originally uploaded by podso

They say that history repeats itself, and so it does. I find myself painting old wooden chairs, found at Good Will, just like I did as a newlywed 35 years ago. This time, again, I wanted green, but just the right green. When we visited our son and daughter-in-law when they were house-sitting here in town, I loved the green in the kitchen there. Son's wife kindly researched the color. Maybe I would want it in a slightly lighter shade. Boston Fern it was called--I liked the name. But when I went to see the paint chip at Home Depot, to my surprise it was the same color I painted the chairs of long ago (where are they now, by the way?)

The color is what I would call a 70s "avocado," or so it looked to me. But history can only repeat itself to a certain extent when you've been there before. I realized I couldn't use the same color, having begun my married life surrounded by avocado green. So I moved to the paint strip next door to Boston Fern and found what I was looking for. Similar, but a bit more yellow in it I think. Love it! Let the painting begin!

But I do thank Lindsay for researching and sending along the info via E. It got me where I wanted to be.

A Clean Breeze

as clean as she'll get
Originally uploaded by podso

There is the slightest hint of fall in the air and a warm breeze is kicking up. The lack of rain has caused leaves to fall prematurely and they crunch under my feet on top of the cracked ground and dry, lifeless grass. There also is promise of cooler temperatures by week's end, though the thermometer is rapidly pushing up past 90 today.

It's a wonderful day. Spouse is out of town for the first time in a long while. Not that I don't miss him tremendously, for I have been accustomed to him being around for many months now, and we enjoy each other's company. But since he works from a home office, a day at home to myself is rare. The house has needed a good cleaning for months, and today that cleaning occurred. I've enjoyed the time (only a workaholic would say that maybe?). The music is turned up, and I've found all kinds of little places and things that needed cleaning out. Tossed some things, rearranged some things, and put on an autumn-looking, fresh tablecloth in the dining room.

The best part comes after the cleaning. Peace! I enjoy a few hours of absolute stillness, freshness, and "clean," before members of the household re-enter (dog included), bringing the outside in with them! Since I am "home alone" today, that feeling will last at least until the dinner hour! Ahhhh!

Island Talk

dad/bros
Originally uploaded by podso

There's something about weddings ... and funerals ...and family reunions. They are like islands of suspended time. For an intense day or two, family and friends gather ... and get to catch up with each another. We don't see relatives for years---sometimes not since childhood. Suddenly we see each other constantly for a weekend. It doesn't take long to be comfortable, for we share the same roots and similar upbringings. There is much in common, and sometimes there's a lifetime to catch up on. It's all a bit surreal. And then, we go our separate ways, maybe not to see each other again for years, or possibly ever ... but, left with a whole new collection of memories.

We just watched a fun montage of wedding photos from my niece's wedding. When I looked at some of the pictures of people goofing off, laughing, and having fun, it made me think about this. My brother-in-law's brothers were there who we hadn't seen since he married my sister 34 years ago. Yet, with shared history, we took up easily. And that is how it is with family, especially when we share a bond in Christ. Even if we don't see each other again, we have the assurance of meeting again one day "up yonder." A glorious, joyful hope about these "island" reunions.

the formative years

the formative years
Originally uploaded by podso

This is a favorite photo of mine and good to post on a hot day like this. It was probably as hot in this photo as it is today, except there was no air conditioning escape. Ghanaian children are always happy to pose for a photo, so rounding them up for a group picture is effortless. Youngest son is about 2 1/2 or three here. Nothing made him happier than carrying around a stick and getting as dirty as possible. From infancy he showed a tenacity that stands him in good stead today.

Undeserved

survivor
Originally uploaded by podso

Yesterday we saw God's grace and mercy all around. Little things. Nothing that we specifically prayed about other than a usual request for help along the way. Things that often go awry went smoothly. When days fall together like that, it's nothing that we deserve. I'm glad we took note at the end of the day, and thanked God.

Home Sweet Home

Home Sweet Home
Originally uploaded by podso

I popped into my mom's today to help her with a few things. Whenever I open the door to her little apartment I am filled with a sense of being home. Though she has condensed her 60 plus years of married life into a small apartment in a retirement center, it is still my parents' home. Familiarity is all around. Furniture, family heirlooms, familiar pictures I've seen all my life, a particular scent ... it's all there to instill peace into me, even after all these years of living away from home. Walking into her house is like a huge batch of comfort food.

And of course there is my mother's soft voice. She's always there, ready with advice (and I still go to her for some). Though our roles are switching a bit these days, she still mothers me. I often hear, "Be careful."

I don't take for granted still having a mother on this earth, and being able to "go home." I thank God for this incredible blessing and the feeling of security it continues to bring.

There's nothing so sweet as being able to phone her and say, "Mom?"

Photo: My childhood home, built by my father.

Thirty-six

the rock
Originally uploaded by podso

Thirty-six years ago today, Hurricane Dora had passed through our town delaying one bridesmaid. We were very young as we walked down the aisle. Strangely, we don't feel much older today (other than the usual aches and pains that come along life's journey.) Back then and still today, our marriage was built on the solid Rock of our Heavenly Father who in His amazingly creative way, believed the two of us together was a good idea. Out of that solid Rock has flowed a steadfast love and a life we would never have imagined, along with two wonderful boys and a host of family and friends.

There is nothing better to do today than recognize and be thankful for Who brought us together. And be thankful for each other, for together, as we collect life experiences, we grow closer and closer. What a treasure, never to be taken for granted!

More From the 19th Century

rockingchairgrace
Originally uploaded by podso

Lucy Smith, who died in 1881, wrote: "One thing is indisputable: the chronic mood of looking longingly at what we have not, or thankfully at what we have, realizes two very different types of character. And we certainly can encourage the one or the other." (I vote for the second, though it isn't easy.)

And, Alexander Maclaren, who lived a long life during the 1800s, wrote a pithy statement: "Seek to cultivate a buoyant, joyous sense of the crowded kindnesses of God in your daily life."

Cold Front

D.D.S.
Originally uploaded by podso

We had a cold front over the weekend. It was in the mid nineties. I guess it's all relative! The dry, record breaking heat is barely even mentioned anymore. We just endure. But it's hotter again and the poor plants––in spite of our TLC, they just aren't making it. They look as wilted as we feel. We spent a lot of the weekend painting outdoors. Once you stay out and acclimate, it's not that bad. Even warm breezes are cooling on sweaty bodies. It's the in-and-out of air conditioning that makes the heat unbearable. I remember in Africa they used to tell us that hot drinks actually cool you down in the heat.

So on another hot day I cooked up a storm to celebrate number two son's birthday...it's been a long time since we had beef stroganoff, and I experimented on a new variety of his favorite ice cream cake. During the meal we heard some stories from childhood ... such as the wooden spool story ... that is, a telephone company wooden spool that came rolling down a hill into our family room. Amazing to hear that story from his perspective––that of the then 11-year-old who had a part in the story. (So much of our memory is affected by our outlook on life and total life experiences––a lot comes into play. And our kids remind us of a lot that we've forgotten.)

So we laughed a lot and had a good time, making more memories. We're proud of this tenacious son of ours, who at the age of three, stood bravely and with great curiosity alongside a man slaughtering a cow in an African mosque during Ramadan, and who, at the age of 16, flew off to India on his own to help and to learn from a 70-something seasoned missionary. He is preparing now to run another marathon while he enters his last year of dental school (with a possibility of even further study ... ). We never would have dreamed he'd end up on this career path, but he definitely has a passion for it and does it well. That makes us happy and proud.

Back Again

iron sharpens iron
Originally uploaded by podso

Twice this summer we entered back into worlds that used to be ours. Places that are familiar and stir up memories. Life goes on when we're not there (and yes nothing much stays the same), but when we go back, those living there graciously allow us to enter back into daily life. We catch up on the news, join in whatever is going on, shop at the grocery store, and indulge at the local ice cream shop. Our energy is there and it's as if we're a part of the community once again. But then it's time to go. Slowly the everyday connectedness starts to fade. But we always leave a part of ourselves there. And we'll go back again another day.

One Candle Only Please

111
Originally uploaded by podso

Well here it is, proof of our 111 degrees today. I've lived in hot places like Africa and Florida, and it's never been as hot as it was today. This was the thermometer outside my kitchen window, in mostly shade late this afternoon. This morning it was 103 there in full shade. It's wilting for sure, and zaps my energy. Nonetheless I made a special dinner to celebrate our firstborn's 29 years with us. It was a treat to have our second son home at the table too. I made the birthday boy's favorite: chicken marsala (well, he'd prefer veal, but too costly), browned small potatoes, carrots, those rolls that pullapart easily, and for dessert, Tiramisu, a new favorite of his. (I was surprised. I learned this new love from his girlfriend.) Thankfully I found a simple version and it actually tasted good. We only put one candle on the cake to keep the heat down.

As I watched him laughing as he unwrapped a can of asparagas (I don't cook it, but he loves it so always gets a can on birthdays or Christmas--it's become a joke), my mind grazed over his eventful 29 years and I thought of all the things that worked together to make him the man he is today. His early love of books and animals; art and music and cars ... homeschooling and all the books we read aloud together ... travel on every continent but Asia ... sending him off to Australia on his own to learn a bit of life ... how thankful we are for who our son is on this his special day. We actually lingered at the table, talking. Moments like these get tucked away in a mother's heart. A week from today we do this all over again, for second son. They were born two years and four days apart. What gifts to us!

Now for a cool shower before bed!

Hot Crepes

In the heat of summer
Originally uploaded by podso

Everyone is talking about the weather as we are experiencing the hottest week in several years. We will hit 100 or more; 108 humidity index in the shade. And no rain. What I never stop marveling at, during these "dog days" of August, is the beauty that arises out of the scalding earth: the crepe myrtles. It's as if they don't know it's hot and dry. Their vibrant colors in full bloom are total eye candy at this time of year when it takes great effort to keep flowers alive. Just another thing to be thankful for.

Horatia Eden wrote well over 100 years ago about her friend Mrs. Ewing (a good challenge to me): "I never knew her to fail to find happiness wherever she was placed, and good in whomever she came across. Whatever her circumstances might be, they always yielded to her causes for thankfulness, and work to be done with a ready and hopeful heart." --from the devotional Joy and Strength

Worth a Thousand ...

luolu
Originally uploaded by podso

Pictures, that is, are worth a thousand words. This is one of my all-time favorites because there is so much to see in it. My sister took it in Italy, showing her artistic talent in yet another form (photography.) I love the sense of peace that I feel when looking at this. (Also love the color of the car.) Seeing clothes drying on a line always gives me a contented feeling. I think that it is afternoon. Errands are done, the laundry is drying, the stew is slowly simmering, and ... through the open door a soft breeze is blowing ... don't you feel a nap coming on? Maybe that's why all seems peacefully quiet right now. My guess is the cooker of meals is quite in shape from climbing those stairs with her daily groceries. And when children play, their voices ring in an echo throughout the courtyard, don't you think?

Multi-purposed Bench

bench in Italy
Originally uploaded by podso

A lot of color ... taken by my sister on a trip to Italy.

Roots

schooldaze
Originally uploaded by podso

"Deep are these roots, inescapable, restorative. I thought about how life had gone on, generation after generation. Perhaps the past is really never gone, but always a part of the present. Lingering there in the quietness, I gather up the people, the places, the little fragments of another time." [Helen Thames Raley] (Pictured: My paternal grandfather, great-uncle, great-aunt and their school chums.)

'Tis the Season ...

You say tomato ...
Originally uploaded by podso

...in abundance. Time to make some salsa.

Bits and Pieces

the remains of the day
Originally uploaded by podso

In the space of two weeks, we've had dramatic changes to our quiet street. Older folks moved out and in came three new families. One has three kids; another a baby; and the third has two boys who now play vigorously with formerly lonely boy next door. Two stay-at-home moms (maybe a little of the older woman coming alongside the younger stuff will happen)! It's amazing the energy that is now in our cul de sac! We are thankful for good neighbors and new lives to intertwine with ours.

Number two son is temporarily living here at home while doing an internship in our fair city. (Unfortunately for all of us, his wife remains home most of the time for her nursing job.) But it is a bit of slipping back in time to have both boys sleeping under our roof again (number one bunks here right now anyway.) Of course they are grown men and responsible for their own dailies, but it is nice to have conversations, and to hear "Mom" or "Pop" called out occasionally!

Lastly, last weekend our family celebrated my "aging to yet another marker" at a local Italian eatery. The best thing about the whole meal was the waiter. He was gray-haired, bearded, and without a doubt, saw his job as an art. It was amazing to watch him work ... flawlessly. I've never encountered such an experience, at least where I dine out. And of course, the "icing on the cake" was the fact that he overheard a mention of birthday. Out came a deliciously, sinfully chocolate cake to share around. Mmmmmm ... And the next morning, the actual marker day, dear friends picked me up and we went to a favorite non-chain coffee and tea house where we experienced a couple of hours of serenity, talk, and good coffee and scones. The little friends who came along made it all the more special!

I scoop up all these little bits and pieces that arrive in my life unexpectedly or otherwise, and label them gifts ... uncalled for simple blessings from a heavenly Father that is always, always watching out for me ... and thee.

Julia's

Julia's
Originally uploaded by podso

A Road Well Traveled

road traveled
Originally uploaded by podso

I love a quote from "In His Everlasting Arms" by Gail MacDonald: "Someone wisely said that a contented person is one who enjoys the scenery along the detour." Well said and certainly the life attitude I would like to have. I remember a busy time in my life when such detours would stress me. By detours I mean a long gas line, a long wait at the doctor's, or anything else that did not fit into my ideal time plan. I used to remind myself to look at those delays as a gift of time. I either tried to read a book I had along, or to work on my calendar, or to just think and pray. When I stop stressing about what is going on, somehow the wait becomes an unexpected blessing ... and sometimes, the very slightest bit of disappointment when the end of the line arrives!