Through a Glass, Darkly

Valentine's Blogasbord

2012-02-14T16:27:00.000-05:00

Nothing particularly romantic here, except this story:

Richard and Mildred Loving -- What a great name for a love story! Back in the dark ages when interracial marriages were illegal, they were trail-blazers, insisting that they should be allowed to love, and marry, and have a family, like everyone else. I'd love to see the documentary about them.

Why French Parents Are Superior -- I found this article fascinating, and it resonated with the truth to me: that American parents are doing a bad job (generally) with their kids, and are mystified and frustrated because they're doing what the "experts" tell them. Great article.

Those Fudgey Employment Numbers -- Excellent WORLD Mag article by Cal Thomas about how the government is cooking the unemployment numbers, and leaving so many people out who are unemployed. Adam has found this to be true -- he's never included in these numbers either. Many Americans are left out of the stats.

Unemployed Young People -- Another discouraging article, I'm sorry to say. Young people are having trouble finding work. They, by the way, often aren't included in the stats either, if they weren't previously employed.

Katie's Journey -- What a beautiful post from our friend, Katie, who's adopted a bunch of orphaned African girls. Her self-examination here, her understanding of how God has to clean out our spiritual wounds. Why does God give such grief to someone who's already sacrificing so much for Him? Please read.

John's Journey -- John and Mary are friends of ours. I love Mary's words here: "The Lord has us hemmed in for a reason and we want to take full advantage of this life lesson." That's wisdom, from someone who knows intimately the Lord's hand on them.

Fifteen Extra Minutes and a Camera

2012-02-13T21:30:00.000-05:00

Giving a blogger fifteen extra minutes, and a camera in hand, is a dangerous thing. I drove to Greenville today, and stopped along the way to snag some photos I've been wanting for a while. First, I noticed some ice clinging to the side of a sunny hill. It's been cold here.

I finally took a shot of my Very Favorite Mountain Home. It's a bad photo, with the glare, and the trees, and the car reflection. I stopped the car in the middle of the road. There was no traffic. (Don't worry; no cars were wrecked nor pedestrians run over, in the taking of these photos.)

Here are the ones I've been longing for, for years. Bob's Place. Yes, it does exist. This is "Appalachian Americana" at its best.

The tables outside Bob's Place. We had one of these massive spools when I was a kid. We rolled it around the yard and called it "The War Machine." Then we turned it on end and used it for a table on Saturday night hotdog cookouts. That was in Virginia, forty years ago.

But here -- Ah, here is the classic. A hand-made shack behind Bob's Place, called "The Road Kill Grill." Bwahahaha! We've guffawed over that name for decades! I've always wanted to photograph it, but I was a bit afraid. The sign below says, "Keep Out." And across the way is a much bigger sign that says, "It's not Illegal to be a Biker." Yikes!

On down the road a piece, I found this charming signage and store. In the South, these places are in all rural locals. The parking lot was packed, so the cafe must be good eatin'.

This field was freshly turned. This is how very red our clay soil is, in the South. It warmed my heart to see the beginnings of planting season.

Now here's a fun tale. This lovely stone wall and spigot of mountain stream water is beside the road. It runs constantly. It used to have a sign over it, "Not Potable Water." (In other words, "not safe to drink, technically speaking.") But it's icy cold mountain water, and probably better for you than lots of city water.
Anyway, a dear older friend told us once that, when he was a boy, they drove up into the NC mountains each summer to escape the heat in the lowlands. And half-way up the mountain, their old car would need a cooling for the radiator. They would stop here, at this spigot, to refill the radiator and cool themselves. It's been servicing roadside travelers for many, many years.

I drove home from Greenville in late afternoon with setting sun and gathering clouds.

Someone along the curving mountain road has what we've always called the Truck Graveyard. It's where old trucks come to retire and die, I guess. There aren't as many as there were 20 years ago. I suppose he shoves them over the edge, when they've given up the ghost.

I went to Greenville to spend several wonderful hours with a dear, dear friend whom I hadn't seen for about 15 years, and her beautiful, bright daughter, who's a student at the university. Yes, I remembered to photograph the Road Kill Grill, and the dead trucks, but I completely forgot to get a photo of Janet, Anna, and me. Such is the discouraging progression of age. Maybe I'll remember next time. In another 15 years, when we're both grandmas. Sigh!!

Valentine Flower Pillow

2012-02-12T14:40:00.000-05:00

I made this whoppin' big flower recently. Valentine colors, for a present at a Valentine party, for Julia. It's almost 8" across. I wanted to turn it into a "real" flower by inserting a piece of floral wire in the stem and the leaf, and then in the back of the flower. But the flower head is so large and heavy that I wasn't sure floral wire would be strong enough. Nobody wants a droopy flower!

So I turned it into a pillow instead :) All little girls would like a Valentine flower pillow, right?

Here's the back. I had some fun rainbow fabric that I sewed as the back, inserted batting for the filler, and then basted the stem and leaf on the back, for good measure. What do you think?

It's nice and poofy. And although it's rather big for a flower, it's rather small for a pillow.

The funny thing is, we went to the Valentine party, and in addition to all the tween-age girls, there were lots of moms/ladies there too. When we did the gift exchange, the pillow went to a good friend of mine, who's a grandma. I hope she doesn't mind a fuzzy/pink pillow!

Happy Valentine week, everyone.

Things in the Mountains

2012-02-11T19:50:00.000-05:00

We went to visit our buddy, Becket. She's a bloodhound puppy.

She has a precious face, and I'm not even that fond of hounds. Last time Julia saw her, Becket was so little. Now she's almost as tall as the girl!

We did our usual Friday shopping, and stopped in at St. P's. This is ... I'm not even sure what to say about it. A lamp? A mannequin? That's black fish-net draped over the head, by the way. And the little card on the lamp stand says, "Retreau Tableau." Hahahaha!!!

I was sitting inside this morning in my bath robe, all cozy in my room, when Adam came back upstairs from taking the dog out. "You'd better come with your camera right now, or you're gonna regret it!!" (He knows that my greatest fear is to regret something, so this motivates me when nothing else will.) I stepped out in my bedroom slippers to see the sight: red morning fog. By the time I got there it was only deep pink fog:

The fog in the mountains is pretty normal. This strip of mountain range is west of us, so this is not the sunrise. Well, in a way it is. The sun rises in the east, and shines over on these high mountains across the valleys, and turns the morning fog red with its light. Odd.

I snapped this photo this week along a neighboring river. Now that Old Man Winter has returned, and the winds are howling and the windows are shuddering, this water looks cold to me.

Have a blessed Sunday.

A Prayer Shawl

2012-02-11T09:32:00.001-05:00

Is there anything nicer than getting a surprise package in the mail? Look what arrived for me, the other day:

It's a soft, beautiful shawl, made for me by my friend, L. She's part of a group of ladies at our old church, and they gather to knit and make shawls. I can't tell you the comfort and joy it gives me to know that these friends prayed for me. Each stitch of this shawl was made by my friend's hands. When I put it around my shoulders, I feel as if she's hugging me, from many miles away.

They call themselves "the String Section." Isn't that a great name?
Look at the beautiful pattern, and I love the color! Most of my shawls/wraps are rectangular, and I didn't realize how nice this triangular shape is -- it's not bulky at the elbows. It's designed to warm the neck, be long enough to stay in place, but free up the arms. Perfect for what I do all day.

Many, many thanks to my dear friends who are praying. We miss you.

I'm a Writer!!!

2012-02-10T17:05:00.000-05:00

Yes, indeed -- today I published my first ebook, at last. It's been a long time coming. Here's the book cover:

(Yes, for those wondering all these years what my last name might be, there it is. We bloggers try to maintain some degree of privacy, but now that I'm trying to sell books, all that's out the window!)

Here's a link to Smashwords.com, directly to my page where you can purchase the book. It costs $3.99. You download it (or view it right on your computer screen) to read. Smashwords distributes the book, and it is compatible with your Kindle, Ipad, Nook, Sony Reader, or basically any way you want to read it.

Publishing an ebook bypasses the agent, and the long, mind-numbing, tedious discouragement of working with traditional publishing houses. If the book takes off and is popular, they'll be contacting me. Let's hope!

Basically this is a children's book (31 chapters, a long, fun read) about 3 siblings who discover that their house is unique; it can take them to other houses, other worlds. One is beautiful; one is horrific. They're given a rescue mission for other kids who've been trapped in a fearful place for many years. I wrote the book about 8 years ago, for my own kids' enjoyment, and they did enjoy it. Then my nieces and nephews enjoyed it. In the past year, Adam has helped me edit and revise, add and subtract. He's done all the formatting and IT work. The cover photo? I took that myself, yes I did! That's my mother's breakfast table, and a lot of her lovely junk.

If you like the book, please write me a review. That helps others to want to buy it. If you don't like it, please don't tell me! I don't want to know! Haha -- I mean, it's rather like someone telling a mom that her baby is ugly and unacceptable. There's nothing she can do; it's too late to send him back for revisions.

Fun at Church

2012-02-09T19:52:00.000-05:00

Today was Mr. Harry's 90th birthday. Yes, I put this picture first because I knew it would lure you in! Isn't this cake lovely? Strawberries are the most yummy fruit, I think.

The strawberries conceal a chocolate cake, always a winner. But this cake below -- I could smell its deliciousness from several feet away. Then I knew it was fine. The buttercream frosting on this baby? Oh! To die for, as they say~!

Here's Mr. Harry, neighbor, friend, dear fellow and brother in the Lord. That's his wife and daughter next to him. (Sorry so fuzzy)

What else is going on at the church, besides a birthday, you ask? Blooms! Lots of blooms! Here's the purple phlox:

The white phlox is not quite as brilliant.

This flowering quince is bursting with spring-time joy.

Happy birthday, Mr. Harry! Happy spring, everyone!

"Wanta Go On A Walk, Sandy?"

2012-02-08T12:11:00.000-05:00

"You Betcha!!!" Sandy replies.

"You coming too, Julia?"

"Just a minute. I'll catch you up!" Julia yells.
She came around the bend in the road, and I snapped her picture.

"That's gonna be a pretty bad picture, you know. On my blog."
"Oh, alright. Take a better one, Mom."

(Summer clothes and winter boots, in February. I ask you, does the girl have a brain?)
I waited rather late for our walk yesterday. The sun's setting rays made the split rail fence look warm.

It glows along the ridge line. Minutes later, the orange ball was gone, but the entire spine of mountains -- hundreds of miles -- shimmered in an orange/pink line against the black.

Daffodils, Brie and Honey

2012-02-07T21:07:00.000-05:00

Mother cut her daffodils and brought them inside. She's an inside-flower kind of gal, and I'm a "No! Don't cut them!" kind of gal. They are so beautiful, sunny, happy. Little explosions of sun.

Adam has been wanting a "bread supper" for a while now. So he made 2 baguettes, found a cheap round of brie cheese in Asheville ($2!!) and made some pitas. Who eats pitas when there are baguettes? We also have a delish salad.

Fresh baguette with brie and homemade strawberry jam. Ahhhh --

The weather has been a bit warm, and at 54º, the bees start to forage and fly. Today Adam went to check on the bees. Two hives are alive and thriving; two are dead from the winter. He removed some honey from the hives. The bucket weighs about 20 pounds, and he estimates that about 15 pounds of that is honey. It will need to be filtered, of course. He'll also save the wax, and I intend to make some more of my "Dama's Bee Cream." Remember that?
Anyway, here's the raw stuff he pulled from the hives. Not very pretty.

The comb is dark because it was used for other things than just honey storage. This honey won't have that incomparable taste -- like eating a creamy version of a field of flowers. This honey was made with sugar water that he fed them last fall, so it will taste like honey, but not quite the best. This summer, we'll get the really good stuff.

Update on the Blue Family

2012-02-07T16:12:00.000-05:00

Many thanks to those of you who have prayed for my friend, Kaedra Blue, and her husband Don, who was wrongly arrested in WalMart in Marietta, Georgia. Don's court date was on February 2. (I've been meaning to post an update - sorry!) Basically, the case never went to trial (yippee!!!), but they had to pay court costs to get WalMart to do that (bummer :(

If you want to read all about it, here is Kaedra's post. Some of the things they found out, really do make my blood boil! Somebody needs to yank the manager at that store!

I'm so thankful this is all behind them now. But -- next time you're in WalMart, be sure not to rummage around in your diaper bag (or purse?). You might be arrested.

On Being Sifted

2012-02-06T14:49:00.002-05:00

I noticed something in the Bible yesterday. Reading along in Luke 22, I was reminded of Job 1. Both passages mention Satan.

You know how Satan appears in the book of Job; he comes to God's throne room in heaven and asks permission to torment Job. God allows it. Eventually Satan is given power to do anything he likes to Job, except take his life. What a terrifying prospect!

by William Blake

In Luke 22, Jesus tells Peter that a similar conversation had happened in heaven more recently. Satan asked again. He asked for permission to test the disciples. "Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat," Jesus tells Peter. The "you" in this part is plural; Satan asked permission to test all the disciples. But permission was given for only one of them. For Peter.

I imagine the horror I'd have felt, if I'd been in Peter's shoes at that moment.

We'd be foolish to think that this kind of request on Satan's part has only happened twice in history. It's entirely conceivable that it happens all the time. He doesn't need permission to mess with the pagans around us. They're fair game. And why would he need to test them? He has them already. He's more interested in torturing God's children, making them scream and squirm. Weakening them and making them useless.

How many Christians that we know, who've fallen into devastating sins, destroying trials, holes of depression from which they can't climb out -- how many of them are suffering from Satan's sifting? How quick we are to judge others whose lives fall apart! "Did you hear what he did?" we whisper to one another. "How devastating!" and we wag our heads in sympathy. "Her life will never be the same," we say. Do we consider the supernatural powers our friends might be up against, when their lives come apart at the seams? Were we spared only because Satan didn't ask for permission to sift us?

These are important questions to ask ourselves. We judge the failings of others as if they happen in a vacuum, outside of supernatural influence. What foolishness! The man who falls into adultery, the woman who becomes an alcoholic, the youth who cheats or steals: they may all have faced a sifting -- a testing -- from Satan that others have not. Perhaps some pass the test, and others fail. In Scripture, Job seems to have passed his test, but Peter clearly fails in his.

When you look at Christians whose lives are a mess, picture them sitting in a huge metal sieve, with Satan grasping it, and shaking and rattling away. Or perhaps they are cowering on a hard floor, and Satan is whaling away at them with a thresher's flail. What would that feel like? How grateful you should feel if God has never allowed Satan to do that to you.

The wheat kernel is crushed and broken into pieces, but is more useful to us afterward.

What is the result of a sifting? In the end, it produces a better man, a better woman. Others in the church do not always see it, because the sifted Christian looks like damaged goods. Jesus says this of Peter: "But I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail; and you, when once you have turned again, strengthen your brothers."

Jesus's prayers are never denied. Peter's faith held firm. He did turn again. But what is his relationship to be, with his fellow believers? Should he be viewed as damaged goods? Too broken for use? An embarrassment? Tolerated, but never given a position of leadership? On the contrary! The other disciples are standing there, when Jesus says this. They will remember later that Peter's job, as a sifted soul, is to strengthen others. He can only do that if he is strong himself. Sifting strengthens the believer for ministry in the church.

Oh, if we only believed that, and lived it. Instead, the church often rejects the sifted believer. His experience has been too terrifying to watch. How much is the church weakened, because the strengthening power of these people, is rejected?

Afghan #2

2012-02-06T13:57:00.000-05:00

I haven't actually started piecing it together, but here are the blocks for the next donated afghan. I thought I had so many red squares, but I didn't. I've had to add all the gray squares, and some off-white, and I'm still short one.

Time to get to it!

Feelin' Like Spring Out There!

2012-02-05T20:22:00.000-05:00

Today, the Great Outdoors were screaming at us through the window screens: "Come out here! It's gorgeous! Why are you sitting, staring at a screen??" So we went for a walk. Now, nothing much is blooming yet, but the temps are right, oh, are they right! Mother's little girl looks like she's ready for a weather change.

The birds know. For the past week, Adam says they've been singing up a storm each morning.

Julia came along. And Sandy. Sandy never misses a walk.

Underfoot lie last year's trees. They are pathetic and we look on them with a jaundiced eye. Ugh! Why don't you go ahead and decompose? Poor things. I think they're beautiful. Yesterday's trees. Tomorrow's soil.

A few feet away, the rhododendrons are bursting toward blossom.

Julia and Sandy discovered a hiding rock. Julia says this would be a great location to stage a highway robbery. I'd better notify the neighbors.

I think Sandy enjoyed herself. Happy Monday morning, those of you who are reading this with your coffee tomorrow.

ABC: the Abortion/Breast Cancer Link

2012-02-04T15:45:00.000-05:00

Y'all probably know about the latest broohaha with Planned Parenthood. The Susan G. Komen Foundation (which is fighting breast cancer) decided to remove funding from P.P. Then they quickly did an about-face and changed their minds.

Which caused me to post a little comment on Facebook.

Which produced a firestorm of response.

I simply stated my disappointment that Komen would cave to pressure, 1) when P.P. has been shown not to offer mammograms, and 2) that many studies have indicated that abortions can lead to breast cancer.

I mean, it seems obvious that a foundation committed to fighting breast cancer ought not give money to a company that performs the most abortions in the U.S. Right?

I was stunned to find that among my friends there are deniers -- those who patently refuse to even consider the possibility that abortions can increase a woman's breast cancer risk. One friend kept mentioning the "fact" that abortion does not cause cancer, as if divine fiat had descended from above and declared it in the clouds.

So, this post will give you information, if you want to read it, about the link between abortion and breast cancer. The logical science behind it isn't hard to understand. A termination of pregnancy (especially a first pregnancy) stops the development of breast tissue. Without the completion of the pregnancy, the tissue does not become cancer-resistant; it's left in a state of mid-development that makes it more susceptible to cancer.

Some of these links will seem a bit dry and scientific. Sorry. Here's a page with a list off the various studies on this topic, dating back to 1957, with a column showing if a positive link was indicated in the study.

Here's part of an article by Karen Malec, head of the Coalition on Abortion/Breast Cancer, a group committed to educating women on the risks for cancer, and dislodging the cover-up and denial in the medical community. (I mean, can you imagine the lawsuits from cancer patients, regarding this? Especially with so many published studies? The medical community wants this to stay very quiet.) Malec's article is available in full, but I could only find it in PDF format.

Here's the homepage for the ABC Coalition. It's a very helpful site with links and PDF links to many studies, published articles, and letters.

From that site, I was able to find this document, a scholarly paper written by attorney John Kindley and published in the Wisconsin Law Review. Scroll down past the two opening sections to the smaller type, where the Table of Contents is listed.

Since some of the best documents are PDFs, let me list them here for you, and then you may more easily find them online, and download them yourself for reading:

Karen Malec: "The Abortion-Breast Cancer Link: How Politics Trumped Science and Informed Consent"

Dolle, Daling & White: "Risk Factors for Triple-Negative Breast Cancer in Women Under the Age of 45 Years"

(Here's a link for the abstract of this document; there's a place to click for the full text also.

Karen Malec: a piece of correspondence, "More on the Adverse Effects of Abortion" -- a shorter read, but very good

Patrick Carroll: "The Breast Cancer Epidemic: Modeling and Forecasts Based on Abortion and Other Risk Factors"

I think I found this one from the Coalition ABC website too. Carroll talks about the various studies that have been done.

Perhaps most intriguing is this statement, made under oath, by a doctor who had tried to stir up a recognition of this factor for breast cancer, among her colleagues. Here's what she said:

In a lawsuit filed against Planned Parenthood Federation of American in California Superior Court for falsely advertising the alleged safety of abortion, Angela Lanfranchi, M.D., a New Jersey breast surgeon, declared under oath that members of the nation’s medical elite are aware that abortion causes breast cancer. However, they refuse to say so publicly because it is ‘too political.’ She said to the court:

"In September 1999 I wrote a letter to the president and each of the board members of my medical society, the American Society of Breast Surgeons. My letter … said that doctors… need to get this information (about abortion and breast cancer) to the public, and asked that an expert be invited to address the Society on this issue. Some time later I called the president, Dr. Rachel Simmons, and she told me, apologetically, that she presented it to the board but they felt it was 'too political.'

"In March 2000 I attended the Miami Breast Cancer Conference…. I asked the conference director, Dan Osman, M.D. if he knew there was a link between abortion and breast cancer. I was stunned when he said that he did. I asked him why there couldn't be a presentation about it at the meeting. He said it was 'too political.'

"Over the past three or four years, I have spoken with many authorities and people in a position to be well informed. Some have been straightforward and said they know it is a risk factor but felt it was 'too political' to speak about. Others have been evasive…. Some have been openly hostile…. Some initially hostile doctors … debated it with me and have changed their minds. Some pro-choice doctors have come to agree it is true and do tell their patients about the risk. Some doctors who were initially skeptical have started obtaining a complete reproductive history on their patients and found as I did that … cases of breast cancer in young women are associated with an abortion history…." (Bernardo et al. v. Planned Parenthood Federation of America et al.)

All that we're asking is that women be given full disclosure of the potential risk. That's all. But some people are fighting it tooth and nail. Why would anyone not want women to be aware of a potential risk for breast cancer? Because abortion is the sacred cow of the liberal left. It is untouchable. Nothing -- even the lives of the women involved -- is more precious than saving abortion as a legal medical procedure. Any move that attempts to restrict it in any way must be attacked by its supporters with utmost aggression.

Read. Make yourself aware. Decide for yourself if you see enough research and study to allow for caution, for a warning to women. Breast cancer has sky-rocketed in the U.S. since Roe v. Wade in 1973. If we're serious about fighting cancer, we need to look under every rock.

Wrapped Up in Love

2012-02-04T10:47:00.000-05:00

Our local yarn shop is helping a local charity. Knitting ladies bring in squares (about 7"x7") in various colors. The idea is to assemble them into afghans to donate to the charity, which helps those suffering from domestic abuse. What a great idea! The yarn shop has bags of squares, but not enough people to assemble them. So I picked up a few bags this week, and started the work.

This first one is a child-size, and I used a broad assortment of colors and sizes -- kind of the leftovers. When you meld it together with the edge stitching though, it all comes together. I like it! I like this enough to make one (or two) for my family too, later.

I have a lot of red squares. This will be a solid red afghan with black trim.

This will be a larger afghan with all three colors.

These projects are so fast, and they're for a great cause. If you live around here, go to Charlotte's and get some squares! We need your help.

Little Wonders

2012-02-03T08:15:00.001-05:00

Julia got a necklace for Christmas -- a frog made of some sort of stone. She loved it, but when it accidentally tapped against something one day, its leg broke off :( Yesterday, I found this china cement of Mother's. I wondered ...

It was runny and unconvincing, but I held it together until it could set up.

And now it's as good as new! Julia is happy. She has her frog back. Elmer's China Cement is a little wonder!

Another flower, this time in pale yellow. It's an interesting yarn -- I need thin yarn for these flowers, if I don't want them to be monstrous in size. This is a crinkly yellow yarn. I like how it turned out. Still, it's larger than the pink one. I think these crocheted flowers are little wonders too. Someday I want to make a grand bouquet of them, on stiff floral wire for stems, and put them in a vase.

I'm on the lookout for flower blossoms. The weather is warm enough that Adam's bees are leaving the hives, using up precious energy to look for nectar. I hate the idea of the little forager bees, flying all over the county, hunting for food that's not there yet!! Bless them. But Mother's camellia is blooming, and here is her flowering quince. I've also heard that forsythia is beginning to bloom, and the daffodils are almost there. Hang on, bees! It's coming!

Of course, a bee is a little wonder, a powerhouse of energy and efficiency.
Quince is one of the most delicate, elegant flowers. In an arrangement, it always looks so Japanese to me.

This and That

2012-02-01T17:41:00.000-05:00

Knitting group today. We got so much done! Advice on blocking a scarf to solve rolling edges, learning a better casting on stitch, making gifts for friends, and one friend is making a "potato chip scarf"! Never a dull moment with these ladies.
This knitting friend finished her "swirly-twirly scarf" for a family member. This is the coolest yarn. Isn't it gorgeous?

There are sparklies in it!

Today, Adam spent hours working on the cover of my book. He's doing it in a photoshopping program, and learning how to manipulate the pictures to get the result he wants. He needed a picture of a round table, with certain objects -- a photo you can't just lift off of google! So I went downstairs and "staged" the photo myself, in my parents' breakfast room. You'll have to wait to see the finished product, but I think it's looking great.

Julia is reading Alice's Adventures in Wonderland for literature right now, and she's doing artwork to correspond. Here's her rendition of Alice, falling down the well:

She's loving doing all this detail; it's her cup of tea. Alice is gripping a jar of orange marmalade on the way down.

The "Good Neighbors" Trend

2012-01-31T16:43:00.000-05:00

I read this fun article this morning: "Why Urban, Educated Parents Are Turning to Do-It-Yourself Education." It's basically about city couples who are embracing the whole backyard-garden-bee-keeping-chicken-raising-knit-sweaters-make-soap lifestyle. And with all that, it makes sense to teach your own kids. Because you're already doing all this fun, educational stuff at home, right? Why not share it with your kids?

Anybody out there remember Tom and Barbara Good?

Good Neighbors was a hilarious BBC T.V. show, back in the '70s. It's about a suburban couple in London who decide to quit jobs, dig up the backyard, and become self-sufficient.
Guess what some Americans are doing? Backyard chicken coops are becoming the new craze. Some urbanites even give up a room in their house, for chickens, if they don't have space in the yard. Or don't even have a yard.

Some coops are visually interesting.

Adam knows a beekeeper who gave up bees and decided to do full-time what he was already doing: helping city folks set up backyard gardens in small spaces, in California. It's a big new business.
Many cities (like Philadelphia) have legalized beekeeping again. Roof-top beekeeping is trendy, and cities are a great place to keep bees, since our rural areas (i.e. agricultural lands) have become mono-cultures, and bees have a hard time thriving there. They love cities, where such a variety of flowers, trees and shrubs are blooming, and are often well-tended.

The urban garden? It's thriving too. Vertical gardening, and attaching gardens to walls, are popular.

In other words, people want to get their hands in the dirt again. They want to know where their food is coming from. They are weary of driving around all day to school/work/sports, eating junk food in the car daily, barely being in their homes, and never, ever being in their own chunk of nature: their yards. They have no time for animals. The American Dream they've been chasing has left them weary and dry.

And part of the lifestyle they want to reclaim involves having their children at home. I think all these trends are happy things. What do you think?

A Better Resurrection

2012-01-30T20:51:00.000-05:00

by Christina Rossetti

I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see.
My life is in the falling leaf;
O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk;
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see;
Yet rise it shall -- the sap of Spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.

My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing;
Melt and remold it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King;
O Jesus, drink of me.

For Those Missing the Flowers

2012-01-30T16:27:00.000-05:00

Some of you dear readers are encased in ice in the Far North. We in the South feel for you. I cannot offer you the deep, bone-comforting warmth of photos from, say, South Alabama. But even here in the N.C. mountains, we have things blooming (or threatening to), this lovely January. It's warmer than usual.

In town, hellebores bloom on a residential corner.

The daffodils are definitely up! Some of these have yellowing tips.

I found a few limpid hyacinths too. The early bulbs are screaming, "It's time!"

This is cheating, since it's inside. But my mother's geranium is happy in its sunny window.

This is what started all these blooming thoughts. The camellia out front is in full bloom. My mother snipped all the wide blooms for the Sunday arrangement, but here are some fine buds that are on the verge.

Speaking of flowering things, here's an update on the recuperating African violets. As I said, I cut it in two. Violet #1 seems to be on the mend. You can tell because of the center leaves. The outer leaves, which are limp with shriveled stems, will never get any better than they are. They are useful right now to assist the sick plant in its photosynthesis, as it strengthens. (That sounds very knowing, doesn't it? I have no idea if it's true.) The center leaves are looking perky and strong. It will probably survive.

The other one, however, is looking like death. No new, green central leaves are emerging.

Adam and I went on a walk to enjoy the relative warmth and the delicious sunshine. We went on the path up the hill.

And we returned with the late afternoon sun. I don't know how long this nice weather will last, but I want to enjoy every minute!

Itty Bitty Blogasbord

2012-01-30T14:09:00.000-05:00

With very little ado:

Getting Rid of Guilt-Ridden

Wherein one man forces his beliefs on others (As in, "you will do this, even if you think it's a sin, because I say to!")

Another economic assessment: we're afraid to move

Using deception to save lives

HILARIOUS video on the six stages of daddy-hood. But watch out for other videos on this site.

Help and comfort for good Christian parents who find it's not working

Knitting with Beads

2012-01-30T11:00:00.000-05:00

Remember how I said I really liked this piece, from the book my cousin gave me for Christmas? This neckwarmer uses a chunky thick-and-thin yarn, and very large beads. It's knitted in the round on circular needles.

So I visited our local bead store, A Better Bead. The lady there was helpful, a wee bit grumpy, and strangely suspicious when I asked to take some photos in the store, so I could do a blog post with a live link to her website. You'd think she'd be thrilled, right? (Seriously: when I wanted to take pics of some items, she told me, "No, you can't photograph those things.") I'm wondering if she knows what a blog post it. I told her, hey -- it's free P.R. for your store and your crafters. She didn't want me to take photos of the handmade stuff in the store; I guess she thought I was going to try to steal the craft ideas/patterns? Huh? Whatever. It's a cute store. I took pictures of strings of beads.

Anywho. This past weekend, I made the neckwarmer! I had lots of time to knit. Here's how it turned out.

The pattern had some little issues with it, as patterns do. Plus, I didn't have exactly the same yarn, and I had to use significantly smaller beads (so I used more of them). The pattern said to use 3 different sizes of circular needles, thus making the garment smaller as you go from the bottom, up to the neck turn. I only had one size, so I decided to decrease the number of stitches instead. I did this on the back of the neck, so it doesn't show.

This is a terrible shirt to pair it with, but when I wear it in public, I'll put it with a darker shirt -- red or black.

This was a little tricky, with the 2K 2P pattern, the beads pre-strung on the yarn, and the turning of the color, and the little split at the end. Lots of fun! I'd highly recommend it.

Karen Palmer, the Queen of St. Philip's!

2012-01-27T22:22:00.000-05:00

We've been going to St. Philip's "Upscale Resale" Store for decades. We've seen it change and grow. After my post last week on the thrift stores, a friend said, "You really need to do a post on Karen Palmer." So, I am.

Here's Karen. She's a lovely nut. A true, glorious eccentric. I mean, I have to love a woman who's willing to get her picture taken with a neck brace on, by a stranger, posing in a boa. She dresses in this fun way daily. As a matter of fact, this is a wee bit tame for her.

Karen now manages St. Philip's. And she writes up almost all the price/description tags on their merchandise. She researches the stuff and knows its value. Here are a few fun examples of her price tag humor:

"For swishing." Bwahaha!!
Some tags make me giggle:

Some are just loaded with information that's very interesting. This one notes the work of the shop's "framing fairy."

This tag was on a hat ("chapeau," although I thought the French had two p's, but I may be wrong. My French is about 30 years old.) A whisper of a veil? A prissy bow? *grin*

I took a picture of this gravy boat simply because it's so beautiful.

Look! It's a thingy!

Her humor keeps me hunting out tags and giggling to myself in the store. Folks like Karen are bright spots in our days. Thank you, Karen, for doing a great job at St. P's!!

What the Busy Hands Have Been Up To

2012-01-26T17:53:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was knitting group, and I think it's time you see what the ladies are working on now. H. is finishing the last touches on her afghan. The colors! Aren't they wonderful? Such variety, and yet it all works together.

Julia finished her fourth granny square, and she put them together. This is the cover on her new backpack. Now she needs to knit the back of it. This will be good practice for her newly acquired knitting skills.

J. has been making scarves with this cool new yarn. I wish I knew its name. Isn't it fun and ruffly? Here's the brown one:

And here's the bright fuschia. She wore this one yesterday to lunch, and it was so cute against her black sweater.

M. is working on this rich, warm shawl. I LOVE the cabling, because I've never done cables yet, and they look so hard! Keep going, M.! It's gonna be beautiful!

M.#2 makes prayer shawls, and she is blazing fast at them. It seems each week she has a new one in hand. Here's this week's:

Don't you love her cool needles?

G. finished this adorable doggy coat for her lovely best four-footed friend. Note the flower, and the very nice edging -- a garment fit for a queenly pooch! G. has already started on another one :)

Look who overseas our knitting each week. This area is known for its white squirrels. They are not albino squirrels, but another color altogether. Their number has quite increased, and they are all over town. This isn't a real one, of course. He's made of rabbit hair! I'm sure the local white squirrels would be scandalized to think of such a thing! Haha!

Go knit or crochet! It's a great stress-reliever, and when you're done and feel better, you have something beautiful to show for it.

A Little Art, A Little Music

2012-01-25T22:41:00.000-05:00

Today was our church ladies' "Lunch Bunch." At the restaurant, we were surrounded by large, impressive art work. Someone said the painter is the owner's wife. This is the warm Latin scene that I gazed at, all through my Lemon Chicken Pizza:

Lovely, isn't it? Mexico? Italy? Provence? Crete? I don't care -- it's warm!
Afterward, I went to a local music store that sells lots of stringed instruments. Julia is interested in playing a harp, but we decided to start with something small, very small. She saw a lap harp here, and fell in love with it. First though, I want you to see the crazy, fascinating and beautiful instrument they had lying about. It's a Ukranian Bandura:

I would love to play such a thing. Isn't it exquisite? It's chromatic, which means it has all the half-steps of a piano keyboard. I just love it. The owner said someone traded it in for a guitar. She doesn't have a price on it; it's a conversation piece.
So, here's Julia, with her lap harp. She has been so happy all afternoon/evening, playing it constantly.

It came with the sheets of music that are inserted under the strings. There are twelve songs, and the sheets guide her in plucking the strings in the right order, to play that song. This harp has two octaves, in the key of G, so there are some songs that she just can't play, if they have accidentals or notes outside of the key. Eventually I want to teach her her to read music (again -- I taught her once before, on the piano) so she can do more with the harp.

The Absentee Editor

2012-01-25T18:49:00.000-05:00

I'm reading The Hills of Tuscany by Ferenc Mate. Mate has published thirteen books, I believe. Most are about either living in Tuscany on a wine estate, or building and sailing boats. Doesn't he just look like a sailor?

I like Mate's books. I read his A Vineyard in Tuscany several years ago, and enjoyed it very much. He has a relaxed, easy style. He sounds like a man you'd like to meet and have lunch with.

But. (You know me.) I have a gripe. I'm finding little editing flaws in this book, things that either the author or his editor should have caught. I know writers, even non-fiction writers, can get by with a lot, but still there are limits. I don't remember these kinds of flaws in A Vineyard in Tuscany, but it was published later, and perhaps was given a more careful grooming before it went out on stage; I don't know.

So, if you're interested in this kind of thing, here are the little irritations that have rubbed me the wrong way, thus far. I'm only on p. 93.

1. Repetition of words. A good writer should go back over his text and notice if he uses the same word twice in close proximity -- too close. If he's too in love with his own prose to discover them, his editor should. Here are two examples:
a) "Behind us stood the fortress, and across the bay, a small hotel and its hanging gardens clung to the cliff, above the handful of hostile rocks it called its beach. On a small stone platform were a handful of blue beach umbrellas ...."
Did you notice it? The word handful? It's a noticeable word; it evokes interesting imagery here, and thus one is jerked awake when it is used a second time in the next sentence. Somebody should have fixed that. If you think that's way too nit-picky, that's because you're not a writer or an editor. Fixing these things is our bread and butter.
b) Mate uses the word "mercilessly" on p. 85, and then uses it again about 12 lines later. This is not so egregious, but it's still noticeable, and it caught my reader's ear immediately. It's safer to get rid of it, so it catches no reader's ear.

2. Consistency. On p. 91 Mate describes some seafood and says, "My god, I'm like Pavlov's dog just thinking about them all." I don't know why it stuck in my head. The lower-case "g"? The taking of the Lord's name in vain? Eh, that happens a lot in these books. Anyway, two pages later, he says this: "My God life is grand." Hmm. This time he uses upper-case, but he leaves out the comma - argh! What does he mean? Isn't he talking to God this time? Perhaps he's describing his existence as a "God life"? No, I'm sure it was just one of the glaring inconsistencies that his sleeping editor should have caught.

3. Grammar. Don't hit me, I didn't invent grammar. And I know Mate is not afraid of the Grammar Police. Still, there are certain loose rules which we should all attempt to obey. Here's the sentence in question: "We asked some polite questions, paid polite compliments then went out and looked at the nonexistent view." Yes, you read that correctly. The world's ugliest run-on sentence. No comma, and no conjunction of any kind. And no, the word "then" never, ever counts as a conjunction. I don't care a toot if this is the way people talk. I'm not listening to Mate talk. (I'm sure I'd have to pay money for that privilege.) I'm reading. He's writing. Do a little grammar work, Mr. Editor!

4. Style. I'm aware that I'm now on shaky ground. Each writer's style is his own, and above question, right? So Mate uses one-word paragraphs? I overlook that. So his Tuscan descriptions are often sappy, melodramatic and downright feminine? I smile and read on. But this? "The moon poked through morose, wind-whipped clouds, but a strange red haze hung before it, like a harvest moon. But duller. The air was warm. Like August."
I kid you not. He wrote that. I went "bleh," gagged slightly, and turned the page. A flaccid attempt at a Hemingway imitation? I guess. He failed.

Would I recommend Mate's book? Sure! It's a fun read. I prefer it to several others in the same genre of sunny Italian lore. But I'd like to give his editor a piece of my mind! Or ... maybe I can have her job?

The Praying Ladies

2012-01-24T17:03:00.000-05:00

I wish I had a picture. Maybe next week. Every Tuesday afternoon the praying ladies gather at our neighbor's house. Sometimes there are only a handful; sometimes more. This group of ladies has been praying for this community, for many years. Their prayers are effectual, sincere, and most important, they are steady and consistent.

We moved here almost 9 years ago. We had four young children, and Adam was very ill. He'd lost his job, we'd lost our house, and indeed our lives seemed lost. At our wits' end, we moved to the mountains to heal. If I'd had a blog back then, boy would you have gotten an earful!

So, each Tuesday back then, I tromped down the hill a little ways to be with the praying ladies. I was in my late 30's; most of them were over 70, and some were over 80. It didn't seem like a big thing -- a repeated list of needs from the families of those present. We live in a precious Christian community, made up mostly of retired Presbyterian pastors and elders and other church members. The prayers of God's people seem deeply concentrated here. On a weekly basis, they are more concentrated still. I think of Austin, Anna, Shirley, and others who are no longer here.

They prayed Adam all the way to healing from his illness, and then on to a job, but of course, we weren't the only ones. But how I missed them when we moved away! God had other work for us to do, elsewhere, but I went knowing that the praying ladies were behind me, with me, underneath me. They were lifting us up to God each week.

Today is Tuesday, and I want to say thank you to my friends there who bore with me this afternoon. Life can be hard and unpredictable. As I said before, God's road for His children is full of trials. It's the nature of the road. An easy road would not fit the need we have of being challenged and changed. We are always safe, with Him. Sitting with my praying ladies (of the six of them today, 3 are pastors' wives), I felt secure. They can look at my life, and assure me that God knows what He's doing, that our family is a blessing to them, that they are holding us up in prayer. I look at their wisdom, at their calm through their families' own storms, and feel some peace.

When life is dark, it's very hard to pick yourself up out of your chair, brush your hair, go meet with a group of friends, and open up even a little crack of yourself. But it is worth it, if the friends will pray.

The Stormy Bathtub

2012-01-23T16:27:00.000-05:00

Sunday evening, as we ladies were sitting in front of Downton Abbey (or perhaps the "Life in the Manor House" special that preceded it ...) I heard an enormous crash of thunder overhead. Goodness! I thought. I didn't realize the weather was that bad!

Well, as it turned out, it wasn't thunder. It was the bathtub upstairs. With Adam in it. Two of its legs gave way. (I'd noticed it had a menacing wobble for the past few weeks.) Evidently the water in the tub "whoooshed!!!" all over the floor, so there were both thunder and flooding in this weather event in the bathroom. I'm so glad Adam wasn't standing up! It's such a great, deep, long, good-soaking tub. This is what it looked like:

Notice how the PVC pipe is sheered off on the bottom. It came completely off the tub, and came out of the floor opening.
Adam is very handy. Plumbing, electrical, roofing, car repair ... he's done it all. He particularly hates plumbing, but at least this fix did not require squeezing himself under a house with the spiders and snakes, as it did years ago.

He did some measuring, and then I helped him lift the tub off the floor. Well, he lifted, and I shoved these two bee boxes underneath. Then he could reattach the legs. They'd been attached before with bolts that were too short, and hadn't been tightened with a wrench. That's why they eventually gave way.

(For some reason, that tub looks to me like a cow, hoisted up off the barn floor with a tummy girdle and a pulley.)
Anyway, then the plumbing repair commenced. At first, Adam tried to do his $3 fix, which meant buying only the bare parts needed, and cutting them himself. But he found that there was one part that you can no longer buy, all by itself. I think it was the flexible hose, not the PVC.

The general chaos in the bathroom gave Julia a prime opportunity to sweet the corners, and behind the tub.

When Adam is playing handy-man, he spends a lot of time on the floor.

That's a sad sight, a tub with a wide open drain :(

So, Adam had to go back to town and do the $37 fix -- a kit with the various pieces for the entire fit-out, whether he needed them all or not. It even came with a new REAL plug, so we don't have to use the rubber stopper anymore.

Strawberry Yum Yum

2012-01-22T15:08:00.000-05:00

We had the usual Sunday dinner today. (You know: beef roast, potatoes, carrots, mushrooms, peas, asparagus, cole slaw, homemade yeast rolls, gravy) And then came the dessert:

My mother has made a lot of Strawberry (and Cherry) Yum Yum over the decades, but I thought this was a particularly beautiful one, so I took its picture :) Then we cut it to smithereens and ate it up!
Here's my piece:

The recipe, you ask? Well, I know it has a graham cracker crust (g.c. crumbs, butter and sugar), cream cheese, strawberries, corn starch and sugar made into a glaze. I'll have to look up the recipe, and come back here and do an update. Anybody out there want the real recipe, instead of my confused mumblings?

When the Fog Rolls Away

2012-01-22T08:19:00.000-05:00

Remember yesterday's oppressive fog? Mother went to town and told me later that only we on the mountain were in the fog. Everything else was clear and beautiful. Eventually, the fog dissipated.

Toward sunset, the light on the hills was rather red.

The fog settles into puddles, down in the wrinkles of the hills.

The trees up here have been so abused by ice and wind. In winter, all their wounds are evident. All their healings too.

I don't know how a scene can be so active and so quiet, simultaneously.

Wisps of cloud link the mountainous bank above with the liquid pools beneath.

If it weren't for the criss-cross of trees and the piles of clouds, you could see Lake Jocassee in the distance, shining like a pool of mercury in the setting sun.

Focaccia !

2012-01-21T22:17:00.000-05:00

Today Adam made pizza for dinner as usual, but he also made bread sticks for us, for an appetizer. Like our appetites need any help!

And yes, it was twice as delicious as it looks. The focaccia dough is 80% water, he says, so it's nearly a liquid. It's soft inside, crispy outside, with a nice buttery crust on the bottom. After this, I was only able to eat one piece of pizza, sadly.

Start with a sponge, (a starter, a pouliche):

1/2 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1/3 cup warm water
1/4 tsp instant yeast
Mix well in a large bowl with a wooden spoon, Cover tightly and let stand at room temp. for at least 8 hrs. (Adam did not wait that long -- only about 3 hours.)

Dough:
2 1/2 cups flour, plus extra for shaping
1 1/4 cups warm water
1 tsp. instant yeast
kosher salt
4 Tblsp olive oil
2 Tblsp chopped rosemary

Stir the flour, water and yeast into the sponge mixture until uniform and no flour remains. Cover again and let rise for 15 minutes. Then sprinkle 2 tsp salt over dough and stir in evenly. Cover again and let rise for 30 minutes. With a well-sprayed spatula or scraper, fold dough over itself by gently lifting and folding its edge toward the middle. Fold 6 times. Cover and allow to rise 30 minutes. Repeat the folding, covering and rising 2 more times, for a total of 3 30-minute rises. Heat a baking stone well in a 500º oven.

Carefully transfer the dough to a floured surface. Divide in half. Shape each into a round. Oil two 9" cake pans with olive oil very well and sprinkle with salt. Put dough in pan, slide it around and then flip, so it is coated with the oil and salt. Cover and allow to rest for 5 minutes. Then press dough to edge of pans. Poke dough with fork to pop bubbles. Sprinkle rosemary on top. Allow to rest again for 5-10 minutes.

Bake pans on the baking stone and reduce temp to 450º. Bake until golden brown, 25-30 minutes. Cool on wire racks and remove from pans.

Adam got this recipe from America's Test Kitchen online. He didn't do all the various steps. I guess that's part of being good at something, is to know what you can safely leave out :)

Fascinating Verse of the Day

2012-01-21T09:29:00.000-05:00

Here it is:

Whoever is wise, let him understand these things;

Whoever is discerning, let him know them.

For the ways of the LORD are right,

And the righteous will walk in them,

But transgressors will stumble in them."

Hosea, 14:9

I nearly named this, "Perplexing Verse of the Day," but I'm afraid that would lump me in the category of those who aren't wise or discerning, and who don't understand this verse! The two words that are shocking in this verse, are the final two: "in them." The rest of it is fairly familiar. God's ways, His paths, His calling to righteous living and trusting in Him every treacherous step through life -- all of that is right. It's good. It's hard, but it's good. And Hosea tells us that God's people, His children, walk in those difficult paths safely. These paths lead us through valleys of death and fiery furnaces, into shipwreck and out of places where we have to shake the dust off our feet. But we are always safe.

But the unrighteous? Those who do not love God? What if they try to walk in His ways? "Transgressors will stumble in them." We usually think the unsaved stumble and fall because they're not walking in God's ways. (And of course, they do. Everyone stumbles outside of God's kingdom.) But in His paths? Yes! His paths are hard! They can only be successfully traversed with His help. Have you known people who you thought were Christians, attended church all their lives, seemed like good people, and all that. Then big trials rocked their lives, and they fell apart, lost their way, turned to sin and away from God? Those people attempted to walk in God's rocky ways. Those ways are not intended to be walked without Him. They stumbled.

Don't even try to follow God into the storms of life, without His help. His ways are safe, if you hold His hand. Otherwise, they are the most treacherous life paths out there. You'd be better living a life of debauchery on your own, than saying you're on God's path, without being His child.

A few days ago I took this picture out the window. See the line of dark grey, sitting above the hills? The light below it was so bright at one point, and the mountain tops there looked white with snow. Perhaps it was only light.

Within a few minutes, however, that grey blanket rolled in, obscured everything from view for the rest of the day, and snuffed out the light.
This is the sky this morning:

I know there's a world out there, but I can only see the very closest twigs and branches. Life often feels this way. Sometimes you can see forever, and you map out where you will go in the world. But then the fog sets in, the future is thoroughly obscured, and one must wait. I know a future awaits me out there, but I can't see it right now "for love nor money," as my grandmother would say. God sees it; that's enough for me.

Your Local Treasure Trove

2012-01-20T21:20:00.000-05:00

If you don't do the junk stores, you don't know what you're missing. My mother, Julia and I are faithful attenders, each Friday. We have three stores. We don't want to add any more, because we wouldn't get back home before dark. You can go to Goodwill, Salvation Army, or Habitat, and they're fine; we prefer the more local, individual stores. These first pics I took this morning at our very-small town junk store. They use their profits to deliver meals to the elderly. Their prices are Rock Bottom. (As in, all clothing has been priced at $1/item, for months.)
Here's a pair of gently used baby boots by Gymboree.

Two random ladies coats. See those labels? I regularly see Talbots, Coldwater Creek, LL Bean and others in this store.

Even the book department can offer a feast for the eyes.

Many people are wishing for 60s, 70s or 80s era dish wear. How 'bout this set? Isn't it cute? The shapes back then were clean and classic. I love those little bowls with the side handles.

A nice, old aluminum sugar canister. Cleaned up, this would be great on your counter. It's 50¢.

This very cool chafing dish with heating element was $1.50.

These are beautiful cups -- thin china, perfect handles. This is the classic teacup with a widely flared lip, for cooling the tea and sipping safely. None of those deep, straight mugs that blister your lips when you try to take those first sips.

This set is neat! It's that lovely hard plastic. It would brighten your kitchen! I think the set was $2.50.

Need a cool, retro Thermos carafe? Love this!

Lots to decorate your mantles with. I like that set of three stands.

This cooling rack is the kind of thing I adore -- simple, useful, classic lines. I resisted.

So, what do you think? Isn't it fun to shop in places that offer that kind of unexpected variety, instead of boring department stores that show you four shelves of the same bowl, or a whole rack of the same blouse?
On to the next store! This one supports the eradication of domestic abuse and violence. Their prices are slightly higher, their wares slightly better. These three sweaters? Susan Bristol, Orvis, and Woolrich. All three great brands. $3.50 each. Sweet colors.

Furs? They have furs. They have wedding dresses!

The last store is a bit more "upscale," as they say. It's run by the local Episcopal church. Truly elegant fare. And the lady who labels each item individually has some sense of humor; one of these days, I'll do a post on hysterical descriptions on the labels in this store :) What about this fine alabaster box?

A tray of antique handkerchiefs. Some women still carry them, you know. My mother did, and only recently did she finally succumb to Kleenex.

Two more boxes, exquisite inlay. Perfect condition. The one on the left is for $10.50.

Where else can you find a basket of soft, leather 50-year-old gloves?

These wonderful cups and matching luncheon plates have been in the stores for months. It seems no one uses luncheon sets anymore. They came back into style very briefly about 15 years ago, just long enough for me to accumulate about 20 or so sets at yard sales. Then I never used them. (I wanted to save them for Anna's graduation party, or wedding showers, and she was only about 7 years old back then!) But they were the clear, clunky kind, and not as irresistible as these.

Mother and I were both amazed at this mammoth soup tureen. At least, we assume that's what it is. It's from Taiwan, and has two small vent holes near the handle knob. Perhaps for rice? It's extremely large; I put my fingers in the photo, hoping they would give you some sense of its size. I bet it would hold at least 10 cups of rice.

So, what do you think? Aren't junk stores (or resale, or consignment ... pick your term) fun? We think so. We see so many truly beautiful things there, and I must admit, my mother has a weakness for beauty. I believe this is why she has attracted an inordinate number of friends over the years who are serious artists. Her walls abound with their work. She feels almost compelled to "rescue" beautiful things, to love them, to appreciate them. It's a noble task. But she finally admitted to herself that she could have have all the beautiful things of the world, in her home. She's paring down. I didn't buy anything at the stores today; I usually don't. But it's still fun to appreciate.

Ladies' Study, Week Two

2012-01-19T15:59:00.000-05:00

This morning, our church hosted week two of our winter ladies' study. We're looking at Carolyn Custis James's book, When Life and Beliefs Collide: How Knowing God Makes a Difference. We gather at 10:00 (approximately) to visit and talk and eat yummy nibbles, and then listen to a few announcements, and then a brief testimony. That takes almost an hour. Yeah, I like the nibbles! This morning one lady brought gorgeous, healthy muffins with whole grain, cranberries, carrots, and butter on top :) After this one, I had a blueberry one also. I called that lunch!

After that, we have an hour in our small groups to discuss the chapter from the book, with the emphasis on discussion. It's interactive. I'm one of the small group "fascillitators," or leaders. I do always prefer a Bible study, i.e., a study with a portion of Scripture as its reference and content. So generally I direct and re-direct the study toward the Bible, which is what we're there for anyway :)

The book is, at its root, about knowing God, and I've had a fabulous time in recent weeks searching for Scripture passages on this topic. What does God have to say about knowing Him? Why do we know Him? How do we know Him? What are the results of knowing Him? Passages from II Peter 1, Isaiah 11, Phil. 3, and Hosea, have been so enriching, and have opened this topic bigger and deeper than I'd hoped. It was a rich lesson today.

I'm thrilled to say that today we had many more women from other local churches, than we did from our own church. Maybe that came out wrong -- I wish all our own women were there too. (And shame on you for skipping, if you skipped! But I know everybody can't do everything.) But what a blessing to see so many women visiting! The goal is not for them to switch churches and become Presbyterians - haha! They've just heard about the ladies' studies at our church, heard they were excellent, and they continue to return and bring their friends. What a joy to teach these ladies!

I know some ladies are not into snacks and visiting and socializing. I understand; I'm not an extrovert that way either. But I'm happy to say that our church is offering rich, sustaining food for both the body and the soul.

That Late-Night Snack

2012-01-18T20:40:00.000-05:00

Whether you see this at night, or in the morning, doesn't it look good?
Hot cocoa, made on the stovetop, with English muffins slathered in butter with a sprinkling of cinnamon sugar.

Julia said she was having her nightly hot cocoa, and when I expressed an interest, she asked if I'd make it on the stove with milk, cocoa, and sugar. How nice!

And it was. But how that child can stomach a nightly dose of this, is beyond me. After drinking that whole cup, my tummy felt decidedly "bluh." I just don't have the intestinal fortitude I used to have.

Still, it looks nice. And I would recommend it ... occasionally.

Fried Rice

2012-01-18T18:42:00.000-05:00

This was supper tonight. Delicious! It's pork fried rice. Thank you, Adam!

I don't usually like pork in my fried rice, but this time Adam used sausage, which gives better flavor, but not too much, as it is masked by the soy sauce and garlic too.

Earlier this afternoon, Adam browned a pound package of regular pork sausage.

He also made 4 cups of cooked rice. He did not yet recognize that he was cooking for an army, when there are only four of us.

Before supper, he added a frozen package of stir fry veggies to the meat, and heated it. He may well have put the veggies in first, and added back in the meat later. I missed that part.
He also added:
soy sauce
garlic powder
powdered ginger is nice, although he didn't use it this time
lots of chopped savoy cabbage - put this in last so it stays fresh and crunchy
some frozen peas

Add the rice, and there you go! We only ate about half of it, so I suppose this recipe would serve 8 people. Leftovers, here we come!

I'm already trying to think of ways to cook smaller, when there are only 3 of us. You could pre-cook the sausage and rice, and freeze them, and only use a half-package of veggies too. Leftovers are fine, but some of us don't like them much. Ahem.

Big Store, Small Heart

2012-01-18T15:46:00.002-05:00

Many of us have considered it: boycotting a store we don't like. Maybe we like their clothes or food or lamps or bathroom cleansers, but something else about the store has Set Us Off. A pro-abortion policy? Or pro-life? Support of Planned Parenthood? Or the Catholic church? The Gay Lobby? Too Green ... or Not Green Enough? Whatever the issue, sometimes stores get us "real lit up," as they say in the South.

I found this image online, and just could NOT resist.

I've tried to boycott Wal-Mart before. Years ago, I decided I'd go anywhere else, and I just about did. I got a few things at Kroger, and tried out Freds too. At that time I was put out by Wal-Mart's support of Planned Parenthood, which I'd discovered from a friend who had seen the list of foundations that Sam Walton's business supported. "No more Wally's for me!" I said, and I stuck with it for quite a while.

A few years ago, Adam and I swore off Wal-Mart again for other reasons. Our store was poorly managed, dirty, with poor customer service, and honestly we wanted better products for cooking than we were finding at Wal-Mart. But eventually we returned to the trough, like dumb cattle. I told myself they were cheaper (which they are not always).

But then today. Oh my -- I read this story on this blog, The Blue Family. Please go read the horrible things that this family suffered at the hands of over-zealous Wal-Mart employees! I'm stunned, saddened, very angry, and horrified at this story. And just so you know, I know this mom; she's the daughter of very dear friends of mine. She's a sweet lady with a precious family. They bought TWO BUGGIES of stuff at Wal-Mart that day, and then forgot to pay for some sheets and detergent that were in the bottom of a cart. How could anybody believe they were shoplifting??? That's insane! Have we all been taken to an alternate universe? I'm shaking my head in disbelief.

It reminds me of another similar story that happened recently, remember? A couple with a toddler go shopping at Safeway. 8-month pregnant mom gets hungry. They pick up 2 chicken salad sandwiches in the store and eat them, and place the wrappers in the buggy, so they will pay for them at the check-out. But they forget. They pay the $50 for their groceries, but forget to pay the $5 for the sandwiches. And they're arrested for shoplifting, and their little girl is put into Child Protective Services overnight. What a fiasco! Later, the store agreed to drop all charges.

I mean, let's get real. Grocery stores (and Wal-Mart is included in this) offer your family free cookies, and free cups of wine, and free popcorn, not to mention all the other samples that get foisted on you while you're shoving your cart. They long for you to pick up their produce and put it into your cart. They leave fresh produce unwrapped so you can smell it, squash it, handle it. Have you ever tasted a grape in the store? Have you ever opened a package of cookies/crackers/whatever, to stave off hunger for you or your child? What if you forgot to pay for it at the checkout? My mother often picks up a muffin in the deli, eats it, puts one of their little deli bags in the cart, and just tells the checker that she ate a muffin. What if she forgets to tell her?

What if they wouldn't let you pay for if, even if you pleaded, after you'd pushed your buggy away from the checkout?

My friend K. had not even left the store. I'm really appalled at this event, and I will say this: I'm boycotting Wal-Mart until I hear that they've apologized to the Blue family and reimbursed them for ALL their distress, fully.

Good-bye, Wally's! Good riddance!

A Knitting Sample

2012-01-17T19:10:00.000-05:00

I'm making a bold attempt at knitting a large shawl for a friend. Here are her specifications:
No wool, she wants acrylic
Very warm -- no airy stitches or lacy see-through
Deep navy color -- close to black
She doesn't mind a small pattern, like a thin ribbing.

Well, I asked Hunter for advice. She loaned me some circular needles and instructed me to make some samplers so my friend can get an idea of what I'm proposing, and so I can measure my gauge.

Here's my first sample. Hunter said to try 6 knit, 1 purl. So I did. This is not the color, of course. I haven't bought the yarn yet.

I really like the look of the pattern. Above is the primarily knitted side, and below is the reverse, with the purl predominant, and the knit row shining out. Having a little bit of ribbing in the pattern will keep the edges from curling up.

This is my first foray into circular needles. I tell you, it's like knitting with a slinky! They are 40" circulars, so that contributes a bit to the chaos :)

I'll keep you posted on this project. I told my friend that I'm a slow knitter, and she might expect the shawl sometime next year! She said that's okay. I'll do my best.

African Violet Hospital

2012-01-17T17:24:00.000-05:00

A neighbor had an ailing African violet plant. For quite a while, I've been eying the pot, feeling desperately sorry for the pitiful thing, wanting to assist. Finally today I offered. I should have taken a "before" picture, but it was in such urgent need, not a moment could be wasted! (Okay, that was an exaggeration - haha!)

There ended up being two plants in the pot, so I took them out, separated them gently, and repotted them in two pots. Their roots were not deeply enough into the soil. Perhaps you've seen African violets like this; they grow up and up, and their root systems look dry and unstable.

These poor things have such skinny little stems on their leaves. Probably none of these leaves will actually survive, but the plants need them until the new leaves come out and mature. The white "collar" on the plant is designed to keep the delicate leaves/stems out of the wet soil, and in the light.

This one looks much better than its sister. In fact, I think it looks perkier already, just from some TLC. My neighbor gave me African violet food for them, and I think I've found a good window with the right light. So now we shall wait and see. Will they both survive?

Little Katie

2012-01-17T13:11:00.000-05:00

I found a blog yesterday -- The Blessing of Verity. What an amazing mommy! I'm sure she wouldn't want me to say that. This lady has 11 children now. I think her husband is a carpenter. They don't have tons of money, and live in a smallish home. But oh my! Do they have big hearts.

Their 18 month old baby girl, Verity, has Down Syndrome. She's a doll, with adorable glasses. I would post pics here, but I didn't contact the mom, or ask permission, so I won't. They're doing all they can for Verity so she grows up to be as happy and healthy as she can be.

And then they decided they wanted to do an international adoption. Her blog site isn't well organized for searching for posts/events, but I think they saw a news special by Ann Curry about an orphanage in Serbia. And they started to look for their new baby, a special needs baby.

They found her. She's Katie. She's been with them now for 2 months. When they found her at a truly distressing orphanage a Central European country, she was only 10 lbs. But get this: Katie was 9 1/2 YEARS old.

I had to go back and read, and read posts, to verify this. It seemed impossible to me.

The child had been so neglected and malnourished, for so long, that her brain had shut down the grown hormone, and she'd stopped growing. She was so very thin in her arms and legs, with veins in her neck and temples showing. Pale white. So fragile. But they brought her home, and this mom has lovingly, gently nurtured her, slowly, patiently. At first Katie would only eat the tiniest bits of food, from the mom's fingertip. Now she's using a spoon.

I encourage you to go read about this. This is the Kingdom of God -- to take someone so close to death from a place of evil and bring her into love and light. That's what God has done for us, for each of His children. He gently, patiently cradles us and waits for us to respond to His grace.

International adoption of special needs kids is a growing ministry. I know several couples our age who never had children. I think they wanted children. I'd encourage anyone who possibly can, to consider adopting a child like this. I know it's incredible work. I know you may fear that you could never love that child like you would your own. But you know what? You can't really know that, until the child is in your arms, and your heart breaks for the care that he/she needs. And even just a home that has love, and safety, and food, and fun, is exponentially better than the horrors these children are consigned to, for life, in mental institutions.

Down Syndrome children are consistently a joy and blessing to the families they're part of. I've read it over and over. Consider what Katie's lot would have been, if this family had not opened its heart to her. The heavenly treasures are mounding up for them. Are they for you? I hope so!

Julia's Treasure Chest

2012-01-16T19:46:00.000-05:00

Julia drew this last week, out of her head. I love its detail. Sorry even this shot is a little fuzzy; my camera doesn't do very well close up. I think I have a budding artist on my hands, which is a joy!

Paul Galbraith

2012-01-15T15:44:00.000-05:00

Here's a musically luscious video a friend shared with me on facebook. I'm a pure sucker for guitar music. It melts me instantly into a romantic puddle. I don't know what crazy thing he's done with this guitar, but I think it works!

Criticism

2012-01-14T17:00:00.000-05:00

Are we allowed to criticize? To criticize (or "critique" -- my dictionary says they are the same) means to "find fault with," "disapprove," "appraise," "evaluate," or "pass judgment."

Bloggers often criticize; we evaluate and assess. My most-read post this month is one I did last June, "Figuring Out Ann Voskamp." It's an assessment of my take on her blog, both good and bad. I was shocked how many people who read it, only saw the negatives, and read right over the positives. I finally tired of reminding them of the good things I'd said. They even emailed me! I'm occasionally in the dog house with friends because I don't share their appreciation (sometimes adoration) of a favorite blogger/writer/speaker. It's a tough life, being a critic.

Have you seen the video going viral, "Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus"? Here it is. Go ahead; watch it. I know -- I didn't want to either, with a title like that. I don't like being yanked around with alarmist titles, especially at the hands of the young.

The Youtube page I embedded that from has over 9 million views already. People like watching this guy. I did not enjoy his overblown approach, nor his mis-definition of religion. I'm particularly worried that other undiscerning young people will be led in the wrong direction by his catchy poem. I do understand his worries; I just wished he'd been wiser in how he expressed them. I doubt he anticipated the impact he would have.

I'd write a laborious analysis of the video, but a pastor in Michigan did it so well already. Read it here. And I'm very happy to say that Jeff Bethke, the man in the video, was humbly teachable and corresponded with Pastor DeYoung. A post on their emails is given here. DeYoung said what he needed to say. He gave the goods and bads of the video. It's a critique. And look at the good that came of it.

Which brings me back to my first point: is it okay to assess bloggers/writers/speakers? When they put their ideas out there, are they inviting criticism? Should writers be able to state their opinions (with millions of readers or viewers) without any response or reply?

I believe the criticism is as important, as necessary, as the original writing itself. Exchanges should be honest, cordial, unapologetic, accurate, and truthful. I personally think they should lean toward logic and reason, and away from emotion and defensiveness. Some people are not able to interact this way, but that doesn't mean they're out of the conversation. Some realize quickly that the rough-and-tumble interchange of ideas on the internet is more than their stomachs can take. But clearly millions of people appreciate the exchange of ideas, the give-and-take, the fire storm and the backdraft. Sometimes it's a learning experience, as with Mr. Bethke. Sometimes it's only a learning experience for the readers/viewers who observe, and that's okay too.

So -- to my critics on the Ann Voskamp post? Thank you! I don't mind your opinions. I enjoy the fact that you made me reconsider the post, and decide whether it was good, or bad. I still stand by it, which is why I haven't deleted it. Nor has Mr. Bethke removed his popular video. But I do hope his viewers read his gentle retraction of some of his expressions. It takes a real man to do that.

His House

2012-01-14T10:43:00.000-05:00

We are now done with our house sitting adventures. We stayed in our friends' home (I'll call them the Jays, not their real name) for over 3 weeks. They were away for the holidays. How I loved their stupendous view! All the views around here are lovely.

These were taken a couple of mornings ago. You can see the sparkle of homes from the far mountain. The misty clouds of morning look almost creamy, like God is just stirring his coffee cup.

Oh! Isn't this beautiful! And our friends were happy to share it with us.

I wanted to capture the moon also, as she looks on it all with a chilly eye.

I zoomed in to get this shot. One house was glimmering and twinkling from across many valleys. That's the sun, whose glory can be reflected in a small thing, but magnified again to be seen from miles away. Isn't God's love that way? An overwhelming power, reflected from a small human, with far-reaching impact.

The Jays have a trash compactor. At first, Adam and I looked down on this small beast with nervous eyes. We'd never used one before. After over 3 weeks, I must say, this is the most amazing device! When we arrived, the compactor appeared to be just under 1/2 full. We are a family of six, there for over 3 weeks. Now look at it, the day we left. It still looks to be about 1/2 full. We recycled glass, plastics, paper and cans. The Jays have a disposal, and much food can go down there. Still. This compactor looks as if it were barely used. This tells you how much air is in our garbage.

The Jays have this plaque outside their door. (I smudged the year.) This is exactly, practically, how they view their home. It's really God's home, for His use. They don't just say that; they live it. To me, it's no small thing for an older couple to hand over their beautiful, large mountain home to our family, for a long stay. But it seemed a very normal thing to them. I tried to explain to Mr. Jay once, on the phone, how grateful we were, how amazed we were. I think he was confused, almost. He replied, "Well, we're just so glad you're there!" Once, when we were talking about the house sitting, Mr. Jay led me out to the porch, and showed me the plague, as if to explain the whole thing :) It does!

I won't stomp around on this soap box again for too long, but I will say this: Christians vary widely on how tightly they hold to what they think are their possessions. I know of a wealthy, generous family who keep the entire downstairs of their home completely fitted out for missionary families who are in the US on home assignment -- all the way down to the food and the cleaning supplies. It's a free home-away-from-home, for God's people. I know a family who don't have keys for their house, and don't lock it. When I asked about this, my friend said that if someone needed something of theirs so badly that they broke in to steal it, they must need it more than she does! (Goodness!) I know other wealthy Christian families who view their homes (and some of them have two or three!) for their own personal enjoyment, or for their children. They don't feel comfortable sharing them with others, as if God gave them their homes for their own comfort! It's just an issue of perspective, you see. The Jays have the right perspective. It's God's house. They are thrilled to use it for His people, for His kingdom, in any way they can. It's open. I cannot tell you how comforting that attitude of kind generosity is, to those who need it. What a ministry!

Handwork and other Happinesses

2012-01-11T14:52:00.000-05:00

I have a dear friend (and cousin) in Texas who did a precious thing for our family at Christmas. She and her kids saved all their change for the year, and then bought gifts for our family. She also sent us some cash for our use. But the gifts were so fun, because she really knows us. She knows Adam loves to bake, so she bought him something we've been longing for, for quite a while: a silpat!!

Oh, it is wonderful to bake on! I could get used to this kind of cookery!
For me, she sent two handwork books, as you see below:

Both books are so cool, but the bead book is visually so pleasing. Look at this hat:

And this adorable little girl bag:

We've laughed over this doggy sweater, complete with the pocket for a doggy treat, and the little back-leg warmers - haha!!

This is perhaps my favorite. I would really enjoy wearing this over sweaters. Cozy!

I'll interrupt the handwork with a shot of the morning mountains yesterday. I love this misty/foggy/cloudy blanket.

Today we went to Hunter's for our knitting group. I love the level of concentration these ladies achieve! Ginny, however, was playing with Sarah Jane, the cat, who is snuggled up to her. Ginny was tickling SJ with a knitting needle, on her tummy :)

It's hard to see Sarah Jane, her black hair is so dark. I could do whole posts on this cat and her crazy ways. She's a nut!

Today, Julia learned how to do a granny square, and I think it looks great! She's making a backpack with one side of granny squares, and the other of solid knitting.

I'm starting pink sock #2. Casting on is the hardest part of this endeavor.

Sock #1 turned out great. It's a perfect fit, because I could try it on as I made it. I love the little crocheted edge on the top. I confess: I used the brown contrast color simply because I knew I don't have enough of the pink for 2 socks. But I think it looks cute. When I get better at socks, I'll invest in some pricier yarn.

The Straight Jacket

2012-01-10T21:29:00.000-05:00

Also known as: STRESS.

Did you ever have stress of such magnitude, or of such long duration, that it felt like a straight jacket around your torso, squeezing and squeezing the life and breath out of you? Compressing your heart and sapping your strength? Crushing your spirit and draining all your motivation?

The last few years have been rather rough, granted. But yesterday was just about the limit of what I can bear. Perhaps for parents there is no stress like that which involves one's children.

Philip barely made it home for Christmas in the Jaguar. In fact, he didn't. Adam had to go get the boy, and leave the car on the side of the road in Mills River. After failed attempts at self-repair, we had it towed, and worked on. It was "ready to go" yesterday, the day Philip had to go back to college. Adam put him in the Jaguar, followed him for a while to make sure it was running fine, and sent him on his way. Hours passed with no panicked phone calls.

Until.

Last night, in the dark, Philip called me and said the car was dead on the side of the interstate. He was frustrated. It was blowing steam out of the engine. We told him to leave the car there, and call a friend to come get him. He had made it to Chattanooga, at least. We thought that would be the end of it, at least for last night.

Only Philip didn't do that. He waited until the car had cooled down, and he got it running again. About an hour later, I get another phone call. It's Philip, and he's screaming at me on the phone: "Mom!! The car is dead again, and I'm in the middle of the road! With semi trucks whizzing past me! What do I do??!!" The terror in his voice was palpable.

Then he told me that he was sitting in the car. And I was terrified.

Adam wasn't in the house. All I could think was the danger my child was in. I told him to call 911 immediately, and get a policeman there. And I hung up, because every single second mattered in whether he lived or died.

I spent the next 15 minutes pacing the house, worried, terrified, mourning, crying, praying so hard. Begging God to protect him. Thinking of the danger. Each second I wondered: is this the second when a huge truck plows into the back of the car, and kills him?

When Adam came home and heard, he blew his top, and called Philip a couple of minutes later. Thankfully -- very thankfully! -- a policeman had arrived. The car was on a frontage road, still dangerous, but not as horrific as being stalled in the middle of the interstate! The car was towed to a repair shop, Philip got a ride up the mountain, and he is safe.

But one's heart, one's gut, one's inside does not recover from that kind of stress. I couldn't sleep. I woke up crying in the morning, crying from my dreams. I spent the morning knitting because that was the only thing that could even maintain my equilibrium. It's like my whole torso, all my insides, are wound up in tight knots, and they hurt. Then, they hurt even more as they slowly begin to relax.

Adam said this morning that, awful as it was, it was really a small thing. It's now somewhat resolved. The car is an issue. We need to decide what to do with it. But for me, the bigger picture is the way my heart and my body responded to the event. Sometimes you are under such pressure, for so long, that the smallest thing is almost unbearable. This occurrence was not a stressor that I was able to handle well.

There's no lovely punch line here, or eloquent maxim. Life is agonizing sometimes. Perhaps some people out there live a life that is close to heavenly, but for most of us? Well, we won't get ease until we're with Jesus. I'm still trying to breath deeply and remind myself that the terror is past. Sometimes it takes a while to believe.

Blogasbord

2012-01-09T19:32:00.000-05:00

Some interesting reads lately:

An Affectionate Poverty Solution -- I don't err on the side of being an indulgent parent, and I never rocked my kids to sleep, but this article was so refreshing and rang true to me. What a simple, wonderful way to break the cycle of poverty and dysfunction, if it could be accomplished!

You Never Marry the Right Person -- I'm not a huge Tim Keller fan, but I felt this was an excellent article, especially for Christians who are bemused by the difficulty of marriage -- whether how to achieve it, or how to succeed in it. "The primary challenge of marriage is learning how to love and care for the stranger to whom you find yourself married." Oh, if we only comprehended this!

Progressives and Ron Paul -- I can't overstate how eye-opening this article was for me, politically. If liberals/progressives really looked honestly at many things Obama has done, they'd never want to vote for him. And if they were honest about Paul's positions on many issues, they ought to support him. So many Americans just walk in lock-step with a party, and follow the party line blindly down the path. All that said, I'm not a Paul supporter, but I do have to appreciate how he has been willing to carve out for himself an unlikely middle ground between parties.

Living Consciously -- Andree Seu at World Magazine does it again -- she nails us right to the wall. What a prescription to relieve worry! She says, "Please consider that a lifetime of freedom may be well worth an hour of your time: Go into your room, shut the door, and confess that you have taken control of your life and forgotten that God is in control." This is a useful, convicting read.

Knit Your Own Dog -- You have to see these cuties to believe them. And the one, single free pattern in the whole bunch? A corgi! The pattern looks difficult, but I'm hoping to try it sometime.

Good-bye, Mr. Cactus

2012-01-09T19:05:00.000-05:00

When Philip was 3 years old, he visited the Cactus Plantation in Edwards, Mississippi, where we used to live (long ago). They were very sweet to a little boy, and gave him two cacti. One of them died within weeks. The other one, well ....

It lived and moved with us from Mississippi to North Carolina to Iowa to Alabama to NC again to Massachusetts to NC again. It was a sturdy little thing. It survived 2 years hidden in the windowsill of Philip's room, without water!

But this winter, it died. Appropriately, it died when its owner became an adult. I don't know that Philip cared much, but I was bizarrely attached to this plucky little fellow who stayed with us, through thick and thin. He was left out on the porch and suffered a freeze, and well, that was the end. In the pic above, Philip and Julia are delivering him to the compost pile.

All things must come to an end.

Crocheting from Winter to Spring

2012-01-09T13:18:00.001-05:00

At last! I finished Philip's Christmas scarf. It took me forever to find the white yarn that matched the red. Here, Julia models the scarf for you:

I also made Peter a fine beige scarf. I went looking in his room for it, and of course could not find it. It's photo will have to wait. He wore it to church and looked so dapper.

My friend Carolyn emailed me and requested a bunch of new crocheted flowers. She takes them and puts them on little girls' headbands, for her daughters and her nieces. So now I've begun this project as well. Here's the first one. She liked these colors last time, but wanted it almost 4" wide.

This one will be just as big, but will be pure cream. I'll keep you posted on my progress as I work on these. She gave me some good ideas from Etsy for other headband assemblies.

Here are some pics from Etsy that I'd like to adapt for crochet. Wouldn't this be fun?

I'm imagining the right colors, and exactly how I'd do the stitches to get the right shapes. We would leave off the mesh, of course. I think I'd try the top photo first, and find a way to make flower petals in that round shape, and attach them together in a string.

This Weather!

2012-01-07T13:04:00.000-05:00

After freezing our toes off earlier in the week, the last couple of days have been deliciously balmy. Strangers on the street grin at each other and exclaim, "Can you believe this weather!?"

An older man gave Philip a pellet gun recently. Is that the same as a BB gun? I don't know. It's only barely a gun. The guys have enjoyed practicing on paper targets, taped to milk jugs. My goodness, that son of mine looks almost country. (Don't be fooled.)

I did try to take a walk the other day, in the friendly weather. Didn't get far. I only have a pair of clogs over here where we're house-sitting, and I can't go for a good walk in the woods in those. I'm liable to break my leg. The woods around here are full of trees with broken tops (from ice storms) and knobby wonders like this:

My mother got a huge pile of tree-chipped mulch from the electric company people who came to cut down trees. She declared today to be a Yard Day, and was out bright and chipper this morning, early, to attach the mulch and tend to beds. My two boys went over to assist. Julia and I are headed that way soon too. See ya!

About that Homemade Laundry Soap

2012-01-06T17:48:00.000-05:00

Living in a new town now, I've been searching for the ingredients of my homemade laundry soap: Borax, Washing Soda & Fels-Naptha soap. These items can be a little hard to find. I've often had to go to different stores, or search along the shelves of one store. Not any more!

Thank you, WalMart! And this isn't a Super Wally's. This is just a little store. What caught my attention is how these items are all shelved together. It makes me wonder if WalMart is now aware of their customers who make laundry soap, and who want to find these items conveniently placed together.

See the prices? Fairly normal. $3.38 + $3.24 + 97¢ = $7.59. (I did that math in my head, so if it's wrong, don't tell me.) Let me put this in economical perspective: I bought my first box of Borax and of washing soda over 7 months ago. For each batch of soap, I use only a cup each of these two items, so those boxes last a long time. A very long time. I'm not sure how many bars of Fels-Naptha I've used. Six? Seven? Basically, I've used well under $15 worth of ingredients, to have laundry soap for my family for over 7 months. Can you say that? (That includes a whole batch that I sent with Anna to college.)

In my heart, I'm a domestic. I enjoy doing things like this that involve home-keeping. Some women don't, and I'm totally cool with that. It's just a preference. But it sure does save money.

Sunset

2012-01-05T09:26:00.004-05:00

Sunset or sunrise?
It's so hard to tell an end
From a beginning.

Blue Skies

2012-01-04T16:47:00.000-05:00

Winter skies are so very blue.

Sandy said she wanted to go outside. She always wants to go outside.

We're still house-sitting, and loving it! Here's the wall in front of the house, lovely even in winter.

It's so steep around here, there's hardly a place to take a nice neighborhood stroll. A little bit down this road, the incline becomes difficult. Sandy says, "Aren't you coming, Mama?"

Steep steps, gray and beautiful.

I love winter trees. Green is gorgeous. Flowers are fine. But the cold nakedness of branches in winter has its own appeal.

And I thought of a title for my book. Julia and Adam have both declared it very good: Three Against the Dark. I like it. I wanted the title to say something about houses, because the book is a lot about houses, but I couldn't make it work. I also didn't want some title like so many others these days, single words like Bloodthorn, or Stricken, or worse Bride of Vampires. Ugh. No thanks!

I'm so used to writing each day. I've actually been eager to finish the children's book, because I have another book that I'm raring to work on. It's been calling my name! So today I'm re-reading it to refresh my mind, before I tackle it and finish it off. It's called Greenfield Civil Wars. I'll keep you posted on its development.

An Eight Year Goal

2012-01-03T15:36:00.002-05:00

Today I finished a project I've been working on for about eight years. I finished the last big editing of the children's book I've been writing. I finished the book all those years ago, but I use the word "finished" loosely. I suppose I'm also using the words "last big editing" loosely as well. Undoubtedly there are still things to be fixed in the text.

Unfortunately, I still haven't come up with a good title. I've tried, lo these many years, to find just the right one. It's a quandary. I know the perfect title is out there, but until I find it, I can't introduce you to my friend. And since I don't want to give anything away, I'm not going to tell you about it, except to say it's 141 pages, single spaced, and 31 chapters. It's a real book.

My kids love it. After all these years, they still love it. My nieces and nephews liked it too. I have hopes for the poor little book. There are so many books out there in the world. What's one more?

Writing the book the first time is nothing compared to going back through, time after time, looking for poorly written chapters, inconsistencies, lame plot, undeveloped characters, and out-of-place paragraphs. Adam went through the whole book, looking for bad spots. I then went through it all again, fixing them. I had to write two new chapters at the beginning, just in the last few months. That was hard.

So, today, I accomplished a goal I never thought I would. Adam never thought I would either. He has pushed and gently prodded, even when I refused to work on it for months and years. Bless him.

Adam will format it so it complies with Smashwords.com, and Philip will (hopefully) come up with some sort of cover art for the book cover, even though it will only be digital. If it ever takes off into anything, maybe it will see the light of day as a real, tangible book with paper and ink.

Anna and Her Dorm Room

2012-01-02T18:38:00.000-05:00

Today I drove Anna back to college. She was very eager to go, because she loves school. But she had to hug her daddy good-bye. I think they're mighty cute together :)

I told Anna I wanted to take a picture or two of her room. Again. (I know, I did this when she moved in.) But -- you know, I don't have a single photo of any of my college dorm rooms. Not One!!! It's so sad! What was I thinking? So, I want her to have a picture to remember the mess - haha!

That girl is a bag collector, I kid you not. Look carefully at the wall beside her. See that very long laundry bag, full of wrinkled clothes, against the wall? She went back with all clean clothes. Anna refuses to use the machines at school, because they cost money. She washes her clothes out by hand, in the sink, and hangs them up to dry. That's a girl who will always have her finances in order.

Putting away clothes:

This picture is for Tammy -- Anna is loving her new travel bag! She loves the colors.

So, one child is flown from the coop, and next week, another will go. Sometime this coming semester, Peter will likely enlist in the Navy, and our home will feel mighty empty. The comforting thing is that, if we wait long enough, they all do come back home.

Approaching Heaven

2012-01-01T22:04:00.000-05:00

Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness my beauty are, my glorious dress;
'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed, with joy shall I lift up my head.

Bold shall I stand in Thy great day; for who aught to my charge shall lay?
Fully absolved through these I am from sin and fear, from guilt and shame.

When from the dust of death I rise to claim my mansion in the skies,
Ev'n then this shall be all my plea, Jesus hath lived, hath died, for me.

Jesus, be endless praise to thee, whose boundless mercy hath for me --
For me a full atonement made, an everlasting ransom paid.

O let the dead now hear Thy voice; now bid Thy banished ones rejoice;
Their beauty this, their glorious dress, Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness.

by Zinzendorf, 1739
Tr. by Wesley, 1740

Your Mother's Cookin'

2012-01-01T16:09:00.000-05:00

It's true no matter who you are -- no matter how famous, or independent, or successful -- when you go home to your parents' house, you fall into familiar patterns, familiar roles. All the items of your childhood still sit around you, and in some quiet corner of your soul, you're eight years old again.

My mother keeps things, for a very long time. They may be worn and tattered, but if they're still useful, they're still used. I have emotional attachments to so many of my mother's tattered things. See the little cookbook below? I remember when she got that, as a gift, I think. It's one of those "write-your-favorite-recipes-here" books. I started copying all our cherished family dishes in there. I still remember when I started the copying. At the top of the page, it said "Name." I carefully wrote my mother's name there. Only when I saw the same thing at the top of each page did I realize that I should have put the recipe name. How silly I felt, to have already made a big mistake in a brand new book! I was about twelve years old.

That was decades ago. The pretty pottery cup in the picture is one made by my brother, the artist/farmer, decades ago also. He no longer throws pottery, and we cling carefully to the pieces we have left. There will be no more.

So, what was mother making last night? French Silk Chocolate Pie, my favorite! Anna requested it because she is leaving for college again tomorrow. She has a Winterim class to take.

If you want the recipe for this pie, click here. It's a post I did before. Scroll down a bit in the post. Before getting around to the pie, I wax eloquent about mountains, daffodils, and other things. Here's a picture of today's pie:

Of all things, perhaps one's mother's cooking, with its appeal to eye, nose and mouth, is the most cherished, the most missed. I know that my children already express a devoted attachment to our home's food, just as I feel for my mother's. If you could name one dish of your mother that you miss the most, what would it be?

The Eye of the Beholder

2011-12-30T22:07:00.000-05:00

Today at the junk store, I found four of these. I resist most things at those stores, but I was done for on this one. I bought them. 50¢ a pair. That's not too much financial damage.

I don't know why I love these old cups. They remind me of what you'd be served in old diners, or perhaps an old hotel in the '50s. I know they're thick and clunky, but that's part of what I like! I also like bone china so thin you can see through it. But these really appeal to me. I came home and promptly heated up a cup of tea.

Are there things that you find beautiful, that others don't? Each to her own.

Relaxation

2011-12-29T15:13:00.000-05:00

Morning mist along the Blue Ridge:

This is an awful, fuzzy picture, but we moms have to be sneaky, when photographing our kids. This shows just what the kids are doing over their Christmas break: vegging.
Anna is in the chair. Julia is on the far couch, and Peter on the near one. Philip was seated at the table next to me. Two were on laptops, and two were reading. Yep, we're taking it easy.

Adam, however, has been working all week, sitting with his elderly friend while the usual sitter is on vacation. It's a good bonus for him. Plus, he's not nibbling on all the holiday treats all day, as the rest of us are. Somebody really needs to remove the chocolate from the house!!

Product Post: The Hair Wrap

2011-12-29T11:19:00.000-05:00

This is one great Christmas gift! When Anna came home from college, she was sporting one of these hair wraps on her head, after a shower:

She bought it at Dollar Tree. Yeah, you know, the real dollar store, where everything is actually $1!
I asked her how it was working for her. Anna has mountains of hair, and anything that can contain that mop must be good. She likes it because it's made of microfiber, so it dries very quickly. She was tired of drying her hair with a still-damp towel from the day (or two) before.

It hangs on your bathroom rack.

It's shaped rather like a long, pointed cone. After washing your hair, you hang your head down, and drape your hair over, as if you were going to twist it up in a regular towel. The larger end of the wrap cups around the back of your head. Then you just tuck the loose ends of wet hair into the rest of the wrap neatly. It's easy. Then you give the wrap a couple of gentle twists to enclose the hair, stand up straight again, lay the twisted tail down the center of your head, and attach the loop (on the pointed end) to the button (on the back of your head).

A real live demo. What I like about this wrap is that it's so light-weight. A full-sized towel on my head gets heavy after a few minutes, and makes my neck ache. I could wear this for hours, comfortably. It dries quickly. It costs a dollar. I bought one for me, one for Julia, one for Mother. Head for Dollar Tree!

Bacon Cup Salad, Kind Of

2011-12-27T15:36:00.000-05:00

This recipe came to Adam by way of both our sons. Both boys saw pictures of this idea online, and came to Adam, and begged that he make it. That doesn't happen very often, frankly.

Here's a website with pics and instructions for this delectable fried-pig yumminess. Yes, yes, I know -- hers turned out way better than Adam's. Oh well. C'est la vie.

Okay, so use an upturned muffin pan, line the bottoms of the muffin domes with tin foil. Adam did not do this. I think it makes the bacon cups taller if you do this. Wrap bacon around, lattice it to strengthen it, and be sure there's bacon for the bottom of your cup. Adam didn't do any of this either. He wrapped 2 pieces of bacon for each cup. Oh well. C'est la vie.

So, here's Adam's.

Our boys don't like tomato much, so that's why they're on the side. Adam also made a delish vinaigrette using the bacon grease, and drizzled it over the affair.

I found it easier to eat it by picking it up with my hand and just munching into it. Oh, and Adam made his own croutons too.

We'll probably try this again sometime, and use more bacon. Bacon is kind of like butter than way, don't you agree? More is better :)

Kid Pics

2011-12-27T10:03:00.000-05:00

I snatched the opportunity to take pictures of the kids the other day. They were dressed for the Christmas Eve church service. The older they get, the more they warm my heart, and the more I adore seeing them together.

Julia is holding Philip's mug of hot green tea with honey, useful in soothing his voice before he sang "O Holy Night" at the service, with the Men's Chorus in the background. It was beautiful.

I have to admit, I really wanted a picture of my two boys together. They're such young men now. They're finally beginning to really enjoy each other's company, although they're very different. They've been playing ping-pong the past few days, and have carried on a fierce rivalry in Scrabble, which they play on Philip's new small computer machine. I don't even know what it's called. It kind of looks like a Kindle, but isn't one.

Soon Peter will be graduated and gone, and I'll only have them together occasionally. I know we raise them to let them go, but it's simply hard not to be able to see them more. Hard to explain, but I know that all other parents with grown kids will understand. I'm trying to enjoy these days as much as possible. Anna leaves for college next Monday, and then we'll soon return to our new "normal."

There's much debate about having children. Some good people claim they don't want any. Others want only two or three. I understand these sentiments. I felt that four was my limit, when it came to those exhausting child-rearing years in my 30s. I have a few friends who took as many as God provided, and ended up with seven or thirteen! But consider this: the bearing of children is the only thing we do, physically, that produces a new person whose soul will live into eternity. When I look at my children's faces in those photos, I see people I love who will often be parted from me in this life, but whom I'll be able to enjoy for eternity. Don't dismiss too quickly the wonder, the eternal value, of such a thing. Do I wish I'd had six more -- six more children of God to love and cherish forever? I wish I'd been up to it. I know I wasn't. But I do know that those who choose many children can always make this argument -- that it is an eternal investment -- whereas those who choose none or few, can never do so. There really is no eternal validation for choosing childlessness, I think. Perhaps I'm wrong. I know each parent has his or her own cross to bear. I do not want to pass judgment on situations I'm not aware of. I just hope young parents-to-be will add this eternal view to all their other considerations.

May you, dear reader, be enjoying these holidays with the ones you love.

Double-Pointeds

2011-12-26T08:16:00.000-05:00

I thought some of you knitters would enjoy seeing one of the Christmas gifts around here -- two sets of double-pointed needles, handmade. Adam made them over the past couple of weeks, one set for me, and one set for Anna.

He started with steel rods, cut them to the length I specified, polished and smoothed them, and worked the ends down to perfection. Small double pointeds like this have to be metal; the wooden ones are too much like toothpicks, and if you apply pressure while knitting, they will snap. These are really beautiful. I'm eager to start a new sock pattern with my set.

Potato Chip Cookies

2011-12-25T15:38:00.000-05:00

My dear cousin sent these cookies to me for Christmas (part of a glorious love-package that I will not even begin to describe. But these cookies are almost my favorite thing). And I must share the recipe because they are so, so good. If you like those Danish wedding cookies, these are similar, but about twice as good. They have great crunchy/crispy/crumbly texture.

1 pound of butter
1 cup of white sugar
2 teaspoon vanilla
3 cups all purpose flour
2 cups crushed Lay's Potato Chips (Don't use baked chips, just regular)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add vanilla and continue to mix. Add the flour one cup at a time until well blended. Fold in crushed potato chips and drop by teaspoon on to cookie sheet. You can also add chopped pecans. Bake for about 15 minutes (some ovens vary) Remove from oven and let cool. Dust with powdered sugar.

Makes 5 dozen cookies. / 100 cookies

All I can say by way of confession is that no other family member has eaten one of these cookies yet. And they're not going to. They are MINE.

Sandy and the Squirrels

2011-12-24T21:18:00.000-05:00

This was the view from my window, yesterday morning. The big knobby mountain is Toxaway. See the twinkling lights? Those are actually the rooftops in early morning sun.

One of the first things I do is put out fresh seed for the birds and the squirrels. The furry rodents are much more assertive, and they get their way with the seed. They fight, chatter and squabble with each other, and rattle the screens. The poor birdies must make do with whatever they can find, when the squirrels aren't looking.

See this fellow? The squirrels have all found a way inside the cage around this feeder. The gray squirrels climb up under the bottom; they're very agile. The red American squirrels can actually squeeze through those squares in the wire. Can you imagine?
This is an American red.

This is the squirrels' view also. Do you think they notice? Would they just as soon live in Florida? Pittsburgh? Boston? I wouldn't.

But poor Sandy. She's a squirrel-chaser from way back. She was standing in front of this glass door yesterday morning, watching about five squirrels happily nibbling their breakfasts. It drove her crazy. Finally, in a moment of madness, Adam opened the door. Sandy flashed out with a roaring bark!

Yep. Those squirrels vanished into thin air -- poof!!! They did not return all that day. Did they collapse from terror? This morning, I think perhaps three brave ones ventured back to their buffet on the deck with the impossible view.

Merry Christmas Eve, everyone. May you wake to great joy as you consider that God decided to rescue you, over 2000 years before you were ever born, and He used a most unexpected, unlikely baby to do it. Doesn't He have an imagination?

The Best Christmas Present

2011-12-24T08:07:00.000-05:00

This is the best Christmas present I've ever received -- the best anyone could ever receive. A baby. What a joy he's been! I love you, Philip. May God continue to bless and direct your life.

Pretzel Rolo Recipe

2011-12-23T10:13:00.000-05:00

For all three of you out there in the world who've not eaten this treat, you must make them! I don't know what their official name is, but basically they're made of snap pretzels, Rolo candies, and pecans. They take about 15-20 minutes to make, and whatever you do, don't -- I repeat, DON'T -- snitch any of the Rolos. Every Rolo you eat cold out of its wrapper is one fewer bite of pure, blissful Christmas pleasure you have later. You have been warned!

Warm your oven to about 250º. I didn't need any more heat than that, and you wouldn't want to melt the Rolos into little puddles.

Spread the snap pretzels out on a cookie sheet. I like to use parchment paper underneath. There will be lots of pretzels left over, so if you're tempted to snitch, eat those. Don't use any other pretzel. Not only are these the perfect size, I think they're actually called "butter snaps," and their flavor is superior to other pretzels. Of course it is, if it has butter!
Then place one unwrapped Rolo atop each pretzel. Put the pan in the oven and allow the Rolos to soften fully. They'll be shiny and very soft. Remove the pan from the oven and squash one pecan half into each Rolo while they're soft and warm.
Thus:

Please note the flavor combination: buttery/salty pretzel, chocolatey/sweet candy with a hint of caramel (but not too much), and the world's best nut. These gorgeous, huge pecan halves were sent to me from my Alabama friend, and I am so, so grateful for them!

I like to sprinkle a little confectioner's sugar on them too, for prettiness. Although this one was not visually appreciated for long, I can assure you! He was popped straight into my mouth after this photo.

Seriously, my friends, these are so terribly good that any party you take them too will consume them instantly. They're the kind of addictive that we try to restrict to the holidays. They're fast. I promise!

Christmas Blogasbord

2011-12-23T08:58:00.000-05:00

Hello, friends! Time for a few nibbles from the internet. In spite of all the bites out there not worth eating, there are always a few things delectable and interesting.

"It's What You Scatter," from The Soap Bar blog. I loved this sweet story of goodwill, mercy and thankfulness.

"Secret Santas" -- You've probably already read about this, but there are dear, generous people across the nation who are quietly helping families this Christmas, and the store employees are in on the secret! Fun read.

"Back to the Farm" -- Now, here's a heart-warming thought for all of you who feel that in our century of progress we have lost a beautiful way of life. I know a young couple just like this, making a go of it here in North Carolina. Let's hear it for the small farm! Next, I want to get back to small, local stores and mom-and-pop groceries.

"Grinches in Santa Monica" -- Okay, it wouldn't be news, if there weren't one bad story in the lot. Atheists in this town, ironically named for a saint, try to ruin Christmas for everyone who might possibly want to celebrate it there. There was a time when, even if you didn't agree with someone's religion, you treated it with respect. I'm sorry to see that modern men seem to have lost this ability. I wonder how long it'll be until they insist on changing the town's name?

"The New Empires" -- And here's a link to a new band's site. You can listen to their album there free, download, or buy. These folks are from my college, Covenant College, and the lead singer, Matt Brown, still works there. They've got a good sound; if you're in your 40s or 50s, and you miss the clear folk sound of your youth, this might appeal to you. Matt's voice reminds me a bit of the Fogelberg, Coburn, Jackson Brown type of voice. The instrumentals are very good, and the lyrics are excellent. I enjoyed just reading them. I listened to four of the songs. My only complaints are that they might want more vocal variety, instead of the lead singer each time. And whoever is playing guitar needs to get the squeak out of his play. It's okay for most guitar play, but on a professional album, there needs to be enough skill for the listener not to endure that. I know it can't disappear entirely unless you're really, really great. Still, I'd work to minimize it. Good luck to these guys/girls. I thank you for what you're contributing to the musical world.

"Candle In the Forest" -- Saving the best for last!! I hope you read this far. This is a Christmas story of crystal-clear, childlike beauty. Carrolls All Year blog has given us a happy gift in this story. Enjoy!

House-sitting

2011-12-21T21:54:00.002-05:00

We're settled into our house-sitting adventure here in the mountains. It's foggy today. On a foggy day, our world looks just like this, all day. We would normally be able to see trees, mountains, valleys, and eagles drifting leisurely on their thermals.

Adam and Philip were gone all day, trying to repair the Jaguar. It had multiple issues, and diagnosis was difficult. So the girls and I were stuck at home all day, and I decided to make the most of it. I donned an apron and took to the kitchen. I made peanut butter cookies.

I made a pumpkin pie for Adam. (Allow me to say that I used a can of Laura Lynn pumpkin, and was therefore stuck with the recipe on the back of their can. It was not the Libby's recipe - boohoo! I think it called for an extra egg or something, and the texture was not quite right, not quite custard, too fluffy. Adam said it tasted right, though.)

Clearly, I need to make another one. And I made a batch of homemade spaghetti sauce.

And some French bread to go along with it. It was a good cookin' day.

Pom, you asked about how Sandy's doing. She's doing' just fine! She likes her new digs.

The girls watched National Velvet on Anna's computer.

Our friends put up a little tree in their window. This may be the extent of our tree this year, unless the boys want to go out in the far woods and chop down a little Charlie Brown tree for us. I told Julia we should trim it with popcorn garland, paper angels and snowflakes, and pine cones. Sound good? I think it does!

I brought along my favorite candle. It's smelling like Christmas!

You know, I totally forgot about Pom's "Childlike Christmas" today! I'm sorry. I guess I'd just have to say that a Childlike Christmas doesn't need one's own home, or even one's own tree, or even a pile of presents. It needs the warmth and security of love, just love. A spirit of thankfulness and joy. Sometimes these things are more readily found, when the familiar physical comforts are removed. I think we will have a very fine Christmas indeed.

This Is Not a Christmas Post: AKA, why we should avoid the government

2011-12-20T17:08:00.000-05:00

I have two stories to tell.

The first has been brewing since early August, but I have refrained -- yes, I have! -- from telling it. We moved on August 3, from Statesville. Our son Philip, however, needed to stay an additional two weeks, for work. The house was mostly empty, but we left the utilities on for him. From Brevard, I called the City of Statesville Utilities Department, and asked them to cut off the utilities on August 15, after Philip would had left. They said I could not call and ask that; I had to come to the office to request it, or fax them a letter with my request. I promptly sent in a detailed, clear fax message.

And they cut off the electricity and water a week early. Poor Philip had to use the Sheets gas station to go to the bathroom. Eating was problematic. I called them, talked to a supervisor, and got the utilities turned back on.

But before the conversation ended, I asked again -- would they please be sure to disconnect all utilities on August 15? I was assured that it would happen.

So you can imagine my surprise a month later when the utility bill came. It covered a few last days when Philip was there. It seemed high, but I grumbled and sent payment in. It would be the last, I thought, and then they would be off my back.

A month later, another bill arrived, with dates of service that included no day when any of us was even in Statesville. I called their office.

I was told various things: 1) The utilities were not cut off, and it must be my fault for not asking. I said I had the fax in my hand. 2) The utilities had been cut off, but someone clearly had gone to the water main and turned it back on. I scoffed at the idea that a total stranger would go in the dead of night to turn on water in an empty house. Besides, who was there to use it? 3) I was told that they were unable to turn off the utilities. I asked, why then had they been turned off when my son was there? Then the girl transferred me to her manager.

The manager said this: they didn't really ever turn off utilities. If the house was in our name, and hadn't sold yet, then there was a $25+ fee -- some sort of maintenance fee -- that they charged, even if no one was in the house.

Yes, you heard that correctly. Over $25 per month, for absolutely nothing. I was dumbfounded. I knew this was not standard practice. We've moved so many times in our married life, and no utility company had ever spouted this line before.

I told the woman that I was sure it would be mighty fine for her if I just handed over $300/year for services that they never gave, and I never asked for, but I didn't have that money. She could send those bills, but I would not pay.

Click.

I do hate conversations like that, I really do. They're upsetting, and they're unnecessary. But I know why the City of Statesville is doing this: there are scads of empty homes, foreclosed homes, unrented homes, in the city, and they simply can't bear to get nothing at all from all those homes, in utility fees. So they charge anyway. Just because they can.

I received a bill or two, and then (you guessed it), I started getting the bills with the scary red letters splashed across the top: DISCONNECT NOTICE!!! The last one told me that, if we didn't pay up all those belated charged for service we never asked for and never used, our utilities would be turned off on Dec. 23.

Please, City of Statesville, please disconnect our utilities. We've only been asking for it for five months. It's so nice of you to finally admit that you can do it. Ugh and double ugh. I abhor bureaucracy.

And now for Story #2:

Philip called last Friday. He'd finished his semester at college, dropped his roommate at the airport at 3:00 AM, and was heading home. Then the alternator belt on the car crumpled into a powder, and he was pit-stopped at WalMart. But then another crisis occurred:

Sometime in the autumn, Philip was driving along, and the speed limit reduced from 35 mph to 25 mph. He didn't slow down soon enough, and a policeman (who was conveniently waiting there for him, ahem) pulled him over and gave him a ticket. When he searched for his insurance card, it was gone. Some students had been playing pranks that fall, and stealing various items from cars, just for kicks. His card was one casualty.

So the policeman told him he'd need to go to court and show his proof of insurance. Philip's court date was set for Dec. 20. Yes, that's today.

But he called and was told he could get his court date delayed until after his Christmas break. Then he could get new insurance documents from us over the break, and get back to college. In fact, he didn't tell us any of this, because (as he said) he wanted to be an adult and handle his own troubles. Bless his heart.

But, on Friday, he found out the disquieting news that the court would NOT delay his date, and he had to appear today, at 5:00 PM, in court. Poor thing!! He fell apart. He called me. The dorms were shut, the college was closed, it was raining and cold, the car had no power steering, and he had nowhere to stay. For four nights.

(This is when I say thank-you to Facebook, which allowed me to wail to my friends near and far, and find my boy a place to stay, the week before Christmas, for 4 days. It was God, looking out for us.)

But, of course, Philip didn't really need to go to court. He just needed to go to the courthouse on Monday morning, pay his fine and present his license and his insurance proof (which we emailed to him over the weekend) to the Clerk of Court, and he could be on his way. Right?

Wrong. When he got there, the lady who handles that was "taking a sick day." Translated: she wanted a long weekend before Christmas and didn't care whether her job got done. Apparently no one else in the building could do it. Philip went down again today, and she was gone today as well. I can't believe that, in the government (with their hefty pay, benefits and retirement) that a person who takes a day off doesn't have to do what we teachers always had to do: we had to prep our lessons, find our sub, explain it all to her, and leave copious notes. It was barely worth the day off. Secretaries know this scenario also.

So, my son is still stuck in Chattanooga. His court appearance should begin in one minute. Will it begin on time? Will he wait two hours? Will they then tell him, "I'm sorry. We'll have to reschedule you for tomorrow? January?" ARGH!!!! I want to strangle someone! This is my college son, who just wants to be home for Christmas. If these people did their jobs in an efficient manner, none of this would have happened.

The only way around it is to stay away from the government. I'm convinced our government is like a massive, brutal metal machine, with long, spidery grasping arms that swing and fling around, looking for citizens to ensnare with its pincers. Stay far away! Even when you try to do a thing correctly, they will ruin your attempts and turn your life to chaos.

It's a six hour drive home for Philip, sometime tonight. If you think of it when you're closing your eyes in sleep, say a prayer for him, as he weaves through those mountain roads. He should have been home last Friday.

Julia Decorates

2011-12-20T13:03:00.000-05:00

Yesterday afternoon, Julia went downstairs and retrieved Grandmother's little Christmas tree. Often, my mother puts it away for the year, covered in a sheet with all its ornaments still hanging. But this year, it was bare, and Julia had the delight of decorating it.

There's a particular joy that comes with digging into one's Christmas boxes each winter. I won't get to do that with my holiday stuff this year, but Julia enjoyed doing Grandmother's.

More little houses. Aren't they sweet?

Are you all done with your home's decorations? Baking? Shopping? I've barely begun any of that. It'll all be this week. Our family will be house-sitting for some friends for the next few weeks, so we'll need to settle into our celebrations over there, get down to some serious baking, and enjoy town shopping after Philip gets here (hopefully tonight). Today, we are wreathed in fog.

A Man of God's Own Choosing

2011-12-18T15:28:00.003-05:00

A pattern screams from the Old Testament stories: God chooses the unexpected. He chose Isaac instead of the first-born Ishmael. He then chose Jacob instead of the first-born Esau. He chose Joseph, over his many older brothers, and then when a blessing was being given to Joseph’s sons, the boys' grandfather deliberately crossed his hands. It’s almost as if Jacob were carrying on the tradition of confusing the blessing.

What a crazy family! Jacob had 12 sons. And Joseph, dearly beloved of his daddy, didn't get the real blessing. When handing out blessings, Jacob skipped right over Reuben, Simeon and Levi, when looking for a son to lead the others. Genesis 49 gives hints to Jacob’s reasons for this; the three sons had sinned grievously. So, the leadership, and the kingly line, and the Messianic line, are given to Judah.

Judah. As if he is a sinless choice.

It’s wrong to examine the lives of these men, looking for reasons why God chose them. God doesn’t choose men because they are worthy; He chooses them for His own pleasure, and a mysterious pleasure it is! Why would God be pleased with Judah, who left his father’s house, united himself with a Canaanite woman, raised sons so evil God killed them outright, lied to his daughter-in-law, and cavorted with a prostitute. That’s Judah, God’s chosen.

But the house of Judah, riddled as it was with outcasts, was God’s choice. Think of the women: Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, all of pagan peoples, yet ancestors of the Messiah. In this line of kings are wicked men as well as righteous.

If God can bring his perfect son from a line of sinners and reprobates, certainly He can transform us, beggarly sinners, into children made royal. This mysterious choosing of God’s should give us hope. It pleases Him to choose the unworthy, the unexpected.

God seems to be playing a cosmic shell game with the powers of evil, and He always wins. They think they know His plans, but they never get it right. They know He hopes to save mankind, but He never seems to pick the ones for His purposes that they expect. The ultimate example, of course, is Jesus Himself. How the powers of hell must have screamed in anger and frustration when they realized that He had come, and later when they realized that their killing of Him had only completed the Father’s plans.

Thus it always is with God. He redeems things lowly, and uses them gloriously. He not only conquers His enemies, He uses them and their acts, without their knowledge or consent, to achieve His own ends. I want to serve a king like that.

Lessons and Carols with Musicke Antiqua

2011-12-17T12:09:00.002-05:00

Yesterday Mother and I enjoyed a concert at our local library. This little band of minstrels offer their baroque, and even ancient, music to the public free of charge. They're amateurs, but they sure are good! They are "Musicke Antiqua." Here's their website. Their costumes, their instruments, their talents and their banners were sheer pleasure, and what a way to help everyone get into the spirit of Christmas!

Before they began, I tried to get a few photos without being too intrusive.

This man is an acquaintance of ours, a retired pastor whose daughter went to college with me. In addition to that collection of recorders, he also plays the small bagpipes.

One lady played this elegant hammered dulcimer. She performed "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring," with other instruments in the background.

Their little hats are so novel! In addition to the various recorders, many played something called a cornamuse. This is not the French bagpipe, which is a "cornemuse," but a large recorder with a double reed and a soft tone.

This lady played a small harp. I wanted to be sure to show you the instruments, which I found most interesting.

Here's a short example of the fun Renaissance music they played. I think this one is called "Gaudete," a 13th century piece arranged by Mark Burrows.

Biltmore House with the Girls

2011-12-16T09:17:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I took the two girls to the Biltmore House, that glorious edifice in Asheville that attracts many visitors each year. A dear, generous friend at church gave me three tickets, and boy did we have a great day! I got a snap of the girls outside the ticket office.

The grand house. Biltmore was designed by Mr. Vanderbilt to be an like a 16th century French chateau or an English manor home. There are so many perfect photos of it online, I won't try to compete. The sky was a fine backdrop yesterday. We chose that day because the weather was still a bit balmy and comfortable. I dislike going on an all-day field trip loaded down with sweaters, coats, scarves and gloves that must come on and off, repeatedly.

The house is astounding, but one should not neglect to appreciate the grounds at Biltmore. This tranquil field of hay bales set the tone for the day, as we drove in.

One always needs a photo with the lions out front.

This is shot of the front lawn, from an inside window. They do not allow photos inside the house, unfortunately. They're rather over-protective off their "images," in my opinion. If I could post a few of the gorgeous rooms and Christmas decorations here, it might entice some of you to visit the house! Ah well. (There are shuttle buses all day to take you to and from your car in the parking lot.)

Our favorite rooms, you ask? Well, most of the first floor rooms. The baronical hall (dining hall) is just amazing. A huge tree stretched to the ceiling, which was flung with flags. Two carved wooden thrones grace the far wall. A triple fireplace stands opposite the tree, to warm the eaters. Music from a pipe organ rings in the rafters, and images from Wagnerian operas are craved in stone and wood high overhead. Full-sized carved statues of Joan of Arc and Louis IX flank the largest door. Even that does not begin to describe the majesty of the hall. We also love the tapestry hallway, where they met for afternoon tea and music, and the library (my personal favorite) with its overwhelming painting on the entire ceiling, bought by Vanderbilt from a Venetian palace, painted in 1702, peeled off its home there and brought to the mountains. It's an image of Aurora, I think -- the dawn.

After the house, we were famished, and we looked for a quick lunch over at Antler Hill Village, the new, quaint shopping area near the winery. This whole area was not crowded at all. We visited the exhibit there of about 40 Tiffany lamps. I'd never been so close to a Tiffany lamp before. Breath-taking. (And, no photos allowed)

We strolled up to the old farmyard, now transformed into a living history-type exhibit, but with a shop and fun Christmas wares:

We ate lunch at the Smokehouse. If you're looking for the cheapest eating at Biltmore, either the Smokehouse, or the Courtyard at the Stables, is your best bet. This is a cross-section of a tree cut on the estate. Anna is 5'1".

The horse stables, for the family's riding and carriages, are up next to the house. I guess these farm stables were for working horses or other farm animals. I love the rusted copper roofs.

Anna poses where the horses used to live.

These are bronzes of Cedric, Vanderbilt's beloved dog, and I suppose the little girl is Cornelia, his only child. What a place to grow up as an only child!

I decided that I would luxuriate in the day. Who knows when I'll next be at Biltmore? I went through the ground floor rooms three times! The ticket is good all day, and you may reenter the house as often as you like. We went back in at 3:50. The doors close at 4:30, so there were few people entering at that time. Julia went off to see her favorite room, the Louis XV bedroom where the Vanderbilt women opted to give birth to their babies. It's a light-filled room with a balcony, on the far-left end of the house. After Antler Hill Village, we drove back up to the house and shopped in the Stables. I know Biltmore has a reputation for gouging its visitors on prices, but honestly, I found many items to be reasonably priced for Christmas gifts, and you know what a cheap-skate I am.

Good-bye, Biltmore! Thank you for welcoming us again.

Isaiah 61: 1-3

2011-12-15T22:06:00.000-05:00

"The Lord has filled me with His Spirit,

and has chosen me, and sent me.

He has chosen me, and sent me to bring good news to the poor,

To heal the broken-hearted,

To announce release to the captives,

And freedom to those in prison.

He has sent me to proclaim that the time has come

For the Lord to save His people.

He has sent me to comfort all who mourn,

And to give those who grieve in Zion,

Joy and gladness, in stead of grief,

A song of praise, instead of sorrow.

They will be like trees,

Be like trees the Lord has planted.

And God will be praised,

For what He has done!"

This is the text of a song I sang in church last Sunday. The words are so beautiful, and each time I sing it, my heart swells with excitement for the healing that God will do, declares He will do, for mankind. It makes me eager for heaven.

A Childlike Christmas

2011-12-14T18:11:00.000-05:00

This is Week 3 of Pom Pom's "A Childlike Christmas." This week, I would like to say that a Childlike Christmas is full of light. Especially candlelight. This simple candle was at our Christmas Tea.

And you remember this photo from yesterday. Would the Christmas Village be nearly so wonderful, without lights?

I love candles. But candlelight is at its most beautiful in the darkness.

One lone candle, or lots and lots of them --

Many enjoy an Advent Wreath this season. The slow sinking of the candles reminds us of the wait for the Savior's coming. Some waited in darkness for centuries.

Children also love electric lights, and in large quantities!

This is a chance for the Christmas spirit to express itself creatively, and a way to share with one's neighbors the glorious exuberance of Christmas!

I love well-lit downtowns at this time of year. Do you go out driving, looking for lights?

But even the simple glow of tree lights in one's living room is enough to bring on the pensive, peaceful, happy spirit that Christmas should be full of. He is born. Peace is coming. God is reconciled to us again. There is every reason for good cheer.

Only in the darkness are these lights bursting with their full power. God put the light of His infant Son into this dark world. No wonder children love Christmas lights!

Perfecting the Flower

2011-12-14T15:29:00.000-05:00

My friend Carolyn really liked the flowers I've been making, and she bought two for her niece. So I thought I'd make some more. And I came up with a pattern for making leaves:

This flower is about 3" across.

For the leaf, I did a chain stitch the length of the leaf, and then did gradually increasing/decreasing stitches along one side, and then back down the other side. This gives it the look of a real leaf, I think.

It's a cute little flower. The middle color is a big more beige than this photo indicates.

Volcano!

2011-12-14T13:56:00.000-05:00

Julia has arrived at an important point in her education: volcano time! Ah yes. Every kid wants to make a volcano as a science project.

This volcano came in the massive science kit we bought for her this year, for her science study in homeschooling. It's a plastic base, and has a sand/plaster mix that you pat on the outside. She opted to paint it. I really like the streams coming down the volcano's sides.

Tomorrow we'll "blow its top." Actually you just put baking soda and vinegar in the little well in the top, along with red food coloring, if you like. Julia stated that she's very dissatisfied with this approach. Her study of volcanoes told her that they erupt because of tectonic pressure and heat, and she wants (one day) to make a volcano that replicates the same causes, not vinegar and baking soda. Picky, picky.

Terror Mountain will be no more!

The Christmas Village Returns

2011-12-13T17:07:00.000-05:00

Last night Julia and I set up the Christmas Village. I think this is one of her favorite parts of Christmas. We have seven buildings now, and lots of "extras." Grandmother let us use her trunk in the dining room. It's deeper than our old window sill, so Julia can put the houses in more of a town-like "curve."

She plays with them, moves them around, and tweaks it until it's just perfect.

Julia asked for the camera, to take some close-ups. Here's the town gazebo:

The stage coach, bringing travelers to the town:

The inn, where a man with a suitcase is about to check in:

We all love the log home. It's set back in a corner, because it's way out in the woods, you know.

This is the church. Carolers are singing inside.

The local baker is inside his store, preparing goodies for the next day's shoppers.

Merry Christmas!

Thank you, Bonnie!

2011-12-12T16:35:00.000-05:00

Earlier this year, we traveled to a deep Southern state for Adam to candidate at a church. Through that trip, a dear lady named Bonnie found my blog, and she just mailed me this fabulous gift box from her trees:

I am "over the moon" with happiness!! Thank you so much, Bonnie! Pecans are my very favorite nut, and pecan pie is Adam's favorite pie. Now, I'll have to make one (or three) and post the recipe and pics, right? Yippee! Just in time for holiday baking. I can't tell you how kind and generous this gift is.

And just so you know, I haven't entirely given up cooking, or bread baking. I made two loaves today.

After all the frantic, fun activity of last week, I needed a day (at least) to stay home in almost-pajamas, and do homey things. I didn't stay in bed and sit around eating chocolates, oh no! I finished laundry, taught Julia, made bread, practiced piano, washed and packed away my china dishes from the tea, and crocheted a little. Tonight? Hmm. Popcorn and a movie, I hope.

Have a peaceful, blessed week. When something happens that causes distress or breaks relationships, look it square in the face, call it SIN, and turn your back on it and look for the Lord's peace. It's always there, we just have a hard time finding it, don't we!?

Where are the Indians?

2011-12-12T08:44:00.000-05:00

When I was a school girl, we didn't learn much about the first Americans. I remember learning Mississippi history in 9th grade, and a bit about the Choctaws and Chickasaws. And that's it.

Julia's studying "Early Modern" this year: 1600-1850. One of her history texts is about the earliest Americans. As we went through the book, we came across a map. Julia loves maps. So I had her make a new map on a piece of long paper, leaving little boxes where the various Indian tribe names should be, indicating their general locations. Then she made little rectangular papers with the tribe names, and for several days did a matching game, placing the papers in the correct boxes, checking herself against the book, and gradually improving until she made a 100% on the final quiz.

And this is another thing I love about homeschooling. This area was a hole in my own education, a hole I wanted filled in Julia's. In most classrooms, if this assignment weren't in the designated curriculum for the class, it just wouldn't be taught. Or the student would be asked to memorize a map in a book, or perhaps a list, and the quiz would have been in text on paper. The reason this assignment is so successful is that it's both visual and tactile. In making the map and papers herself, all the information is reinforced deeply from the outset. The repetition and practice is fun. And if the student is diligent, the quiz at the end (in which Julia simply wrote the tribe names in the boxes) is sure to result in a great grade.

Parents, if you're not teaching your kid, be sure his teacher has a teeny bit of creativity to see assignments that aren't in the curriculum, but will be successful and useful. This one lesson taught geography, spelling, and history. This information is not easily forgotten, in contrast to the simple memorization and regurgitation that is required for most quizzes. I hated giving quizzes as a teacher. Quizzes are supposed to assess for comprehension; all the students read the material, and I quiz them to see whether they understood it. But in reality in schools, this isn't the case. Quizzes are designed to asses whether the student read the material at all. Students who did, usually get an A, and students who didn't will fail the quiz. So, quizzes become a grade trap for students who weren't diligent enough to read the material. Granted, they deserve to fail if they weren't diligent to read. However, I loathe an assessment that is so shallow, so devoid of real content. Besides, the quiz is unnecessary. I could tell you ahead of time which ones read and which ones didn't. Why take a quiz? Sigh.

I prefer assignments that students will do, that force the information into the brain, that are easily tested, and that produce good grades after diligent work. I always felt a bit mean, giving quizzes that I knew beforehand that Sally, Ben and Joe would certainly fail. Ugh. I'm also unwilling to do all the work. The fact is this: the person doing the work is the person who is learning. If the teacher is performing all the effort, the student is just sitting back, smiling, and watching her work.

At home, I can ensure that Julia repeats the map practice sufficient times to learn the material. If she'd been lazy (which she never is, in schoolwork) I'd have gone ahead and quizzed the map, and let her have the bad grade. Laziness deserves a bad grade, parents. Often young students need supervision, to master the material before a quiz. There's not enough class time to do that; it must be done at home. If you have an 11th grader who isn't working at home, and is doing poorly, don't criticize the teacher. She's giving him work, waiting for him to master it, and testing him on it. It's up to him to figure out a way to get it in his brain.

Unless you homeschool. Then you have the whole day to come up with creative ways to help your child really engage with the material, enjoy it, and remember it. The quiz becomes nearly redundant at that point. I knew Julia would ace that quiz. I'd watched her ace it already several times. What confidence that gives her! And rather than trying to trap her into a bad grade, I have the joy of rewarding her with the 100% that she's worked for. That's a pleasure for both teacher and student.

Just some thoughts. I loved my years as a classroom teacher, but I want to admit some of the weaknesses of that system. This is one. Homeschooling gives immense accountability and contact between teacher and student. The classroom does not. We teachers don't want to be babysitters, but students need repetition of material, in order to learn it, and 45 minutes in a room with 20 other distracting kids does not promote repetition and learning.

So, Julia knows her Indian names and locations. That makes me happy.

Amid the Feaste!

2011-12-11T22:10:00.000-05:00

On Friday night, Adam, Anna, and I drove to Greenville, SC, and participated in a grand event. We were a footman (Adam) and two wenches at a Madrigal Feaste. Huzzah!!

We were volunteers, but this evening is so flamboyant, so grand, so glitzy and glorious, that you don't really need to be paid to work. As a matter of fact, Adam said he had much more fun waiting tables this time, than a few years back when we sat as guests at table.
Here's my old college friend, Bill Higgins, and his lovely wife. They are the Lord and Lady of the feast each year. Bill has his character nailed. All the rich banners in the hall are made by the wife of the art professor at my old college.

Adam placed a lemon in each glass before we started. He did not want his picture taken, in tights :)

Anna, in her wench's costume:

I snapped a shot of the singers' table, before all the chaos, uh, um, er, dinner, began. Actually, it was very well ordered. I was just a beginner, so it was rather a blur. Adam can run a dining room with one small corner of his brain, so it was no challenge to him.

The hall. 45 tables. This event was begun as a pattern of the Madrigal Feast given at Covenant College for many years, but I must say in all honesty that this feast has far outstripped what Covenant does. My old college buddy, Steve, is the music director at this church, and he and his precious wife Cathy have gone far, far beyond what any of us at Covenant could have ever imagined. Steve always had a bigger imagination than most!

There were singers, and a young girls' choir, and a children's choir, a brass choir, a handbell choir that processed through the tables, ringing, in monks' cloaks. I mean, really!! There was a magician, a beggar, this excellent recorder choir. And that doesn't even include the food.

This group of girls, led by Cathy, was amazing. What beautiful tone!

Alright. Now I must confess to one aspect of the evening that I expected to be disappointing. Steve had mentioned that they would have bag suppers for us. Bag suppers, at a feast. Sniff. I envisioned a brown bag with a cold ham sandwich, a bag of Cheetos, and a cookie. And a bottle of water. And guess what? That's exactly what they gave me. It was a bummer.

And then ....

Part way through the dinner, after the first main course of pork, potatoes and green beans, some stray wench mentioned that there was food out in the foyer. I had been too busy to get out to the foyer. So I went to investigate. Oh my!! (DON'T TELL STEVE. AND REALLY DON'T TELL CATHY.) But there was a round table out there, with lots of greedy footmen and wenches standing around it, eating "shark food," as Adam says they refer to it in the industry. It's the leftovers. Platters from the tables. Perfectly good food. I took a few nibbles, but not being a fan of pork, I was soon back to my wenching.

The next course was roasted chicken, rice with cranberries, and sweet carrots. I went back out to the foyer. Now, each table had two (yes, two) whole roasted chickens. That's 90 chickens. And that's after all the diners had had soup and the pork course. So there was quite a bit of moist, delectable chicken leftover. Picture if you will a round banquet table mounded with about 20 oval platters of chicken carnage. I hunted for all the skin pieces I could find, and I'm not ashamed of it. I needed a way to eat the rice, and even I couldn't just scoop it up in the palm of my hand. The chicken, bowls of rice and carrots were just piled, hither and yon, on the table -- no cutlery, no plates. It was "get as get can," as we say in our house. So I put some rice inside a piece of chicken skin, and rolled it up. It was divine. And the carrots -- Ahhh!!! They had cooked them in pure maple syrup and butter. So good! I haven't had so much fun eating, in a very long time. It was fairly embarrassing, but I was so very hungry, and they had dressed me as a wench after all! I told myself I was just in character, and munched away! I think I had rice and maple syrup up to my elbows. Oh well!

So, I came back a couple of minutes later to get a photo of this place of delicious carnage, but they had already begun clearing it away. Here are a few pitiful remains:

By 10:00 the guests were leaving, my feet and legs were screaming at me for relief, and we had a 90 minute drive to get home. But what an evening! Adam said he had so much fun he'd eagerly do it again. I'll have to ask permission from my feet, but my mouth is saying, "More chicken!"

Wherein Ladies Drink Tea

2011-12-10T21:28:00.000-05:00

Welcome, ladies! The candles are lit, the kettles are steaming, the scones are warm, and your place is waiting.

Many dear friends smiled and hugged.

The plates of delicacies were already on the tables. You see here a pumpkin muffin with insert of cream cheese, chocolate peppermint pot-du-creme, fruit skewer, chicken salad on roll, maple scone, spinach sandwich in the center, and chocolate-dipped shortbread on the edge.

The brilliant Christmas table, what a welcome sight!

Miss J.'s table, with her blue cloth and her Christmas egg tree:

I love the candlelight of Christmas.

Dear friends in the kitchen were servants to the rest and prepared the plates and the Assam and raspberry teas.

Young ladies came to refresh their spirits after a long semester of academics.

Young girls, adorable and sweet, came to learn the art of tea-drinking from their olders and betters :)

And some girls got to sit by a grandmother.

The new tea cozy made her first appearance, and she performed well.

See the glow of the tea light, in the teapot warmer?

An army of these little fellows appeared, and each took his place next to a plate. Aren't they a joy? Our pastor's wife made one for each lady.

Christmas Tea Tables

2011-12-10T12:29:00.002-05:00

Today is the Christmas Tea at church! We ladies met yesterday to set the tables, so that no one would be frantically doing it at the last minute, today. I thought you'd like to see some of the nine tables that we assembled.
Here's some lovely china that Miss B. has had for about 40 years.

Here's my table. Mother did the gorgeous centerpiece. The napkins, glasses and silver are hers. All the china is mine. This is my fine wedding china, Rosemeade by Mikasa. The white teapot is my everyday pattern, Manior by Villeroy and Boch. The chintz teapot Adam bought for me in Galena, Illinois at a wonderfully aromatic tea shop in the old downtown.

The little rose dish (I have four of them) was given to me by my grandmother who used to work in the china department at the Diamond Department store in Charleston, WV, many years ago. The little bird creamer came from Womble Inn, in Brevard.

Miss S. set her table using her mother's old Christmas china. There are clear salad plates on top, with a clear beaded edge -- so nice!

A close up:

Miss N. set such a festive table! I love all this gold and color.

Here's her rich Christmas china. I love this!

Miss D. used some Italian china she's enjoyed. She has fun napkin rings and place name holders.

And she has this adorable cozy. I love tea cozies.

Miss J. had a clever Christmas idea for plain cream napkins -- a sprig of cedar. Isn't that beautiful?

Miss P. pulled out this fine teapot. I love the butter yellow and the full pattern.

Miss. C. brought her Spode Christmas china, always a favorite. I wanted Spode Christmas when I married, but there was china enough, and I just had to keep wishing.

I've always loved this Lenox pattern that Miss P. brought. I believe a dear friend of mine chose this for her wedding china, back twenty years ago (and more) when we were all marrying. Those were fun days, when we could drift through department stores and choose things for other people to buy us.

Here's the group of ladies that made all this loveliness possible. A couple are missing from this photo. Many thanks to all of you for your hard work, creativity, and love of beauty. I'll post pictures of the event itself soon!

A Mountain Christmas

2011-12-08T21:42:00.000-05:00

Tonight our family went to Ridgehaven for their first Mountain Christmas Evening. It was such a great event! I must say, this was the start of a very beautiful thing. I hope they do this each year. What an evening!
There was music by many talented folks, mostly young:

There was delectable food -- a seven course meal. Adam (who set all the tables himself) said there were nine pieces of silverware per place setting.

There were festive displays of holiday fun. There's Adam, instructing his wait staff at the far end. He was in charge of the dining room.

The menu for the evening. It was truly a full, relaxing, satisfying evening. I particularly like the "Intermezzo," during which a touch of lime sherbet was served to cleanse the palate. Hmm. I think they misspelled that word, and put "pallet" on the menu. Must fix that for next year.

Some of my favorite people came, like my precious parents:

We sat with some dear neighbors for the evening.

One neighbor lent his antique oil lamps, one for each table.

I caught Julia in a pensive moment.

And Anna caught me too, sitting near the piano.

The children sat still to listen to Miss Barbara read "The Three Trees."

She did a beautiful job.

To end the evening with a chuckle, we got to hear a silly song from two elves. Oh my! The green tights!

And Santa made an appearance too, of course! Nice suit!

Many thanks to Ridgehaven for such a great time. These were neighbors and church family, enjoying a celebration of Jesus's birth, and "kicking off the season," as it were.

Wind in the Willows heads to California!

2011-12-08T07:39:00.000-05:00

That's right, friends! The traveling trio left North Carolina yesterday and are headed for the balmy shores of California. They'll be arriving at Kim's place, over at "Oh, For Heaven's Sake," any day now! Bon voyage, my little buddies! I loved having you visit. May the wind be always at your back, and my Toad avoid all car crashes.

A Childlike Christmas

2011-12-07T19:13:00.001-05:00

Again, we're writing at Pom's request about a Childlike Christmas. This week, I say that a Childlike Christmas is family.

My childhood Christmases were often spent in Charleston, West Virginia, after a very long drive from Virginia or Mississippi in a crowded car. It was the 1970s. All seven of us squeezed into a station wagon and headed for the mountains.

Coming from Mississippi, we left in warmth and arrived in cold. And usually we arrived late at night. Please picture: a city of steep hillsides and winding rivers, a frigid night sky ribboned with steam and gray pollution from factory stacks. I pressed my nose to the cold car window, watching the hills. People had lit their houses and yards, and in the distant darkness, they rose into the air all around us, little old steep houses with steeper roofs, dotted in the evergreen mountains as we drove.

An early photo of the house on Garrison Avenue

I eagerly awaited Charleston. Soon we'd leave the interstate and wind our way past Westmoreland Road. We'd pass Mary Street, and Mother would tell us again that it was the steepest street in the city. Turning down Garrison Avenue, I'd see all the familiar homes. We'd pass Inez's boxy two-story, its windows twinkling. The street winds along, curving in and out with the creek that always runs in the hollow between two West Virginia mountains. As Garrison Avenue snakes deeper into the darkness, it narrows and climbs a little. Soon I see the fence, and then a small garage at street level, built of pale yellow and orange bricks. Most of the houses on this street are stick homes, or cinder block. But my grandparents built their home well and finely, when their only child was four years old. We'd finally crunch to a stop along the road. The house, a beautiful two-story with a steep roof, cute gable windows and a pillared side porch, perched solidly away up the hillside: Fifty-six steps up the hillside, to be precise. Fifty-six concrete steps ascending the hill like a great zipper, welcoming and unwelcoming. Steeples of orange lights glowed in each window for Christmas, and a tree proclaimed itself from the living room.

It was the nicest home on the street, I believe. They blew dynamite to get the foundation set in the mountain's rocky face. My grandmother, proud of her home, lined the steps with azaleas. There were two apple trees, golden transparents, in the backyard hillside that cut sharply up behind the house. The shed along the back fence held my granddaddy's hunting beagles and it smelled strongly of them. My brothers played poker in the shed on warm summer nights.

I'm sure hauling all our suitcases, pillows, and presents up those steps took a long time in the cold, but it was no concern of mine. As the baby girl, I dashed up to the house, burst into the glowing living room and hollered my hellos. In spite of its grandeur (to me), it was not a large house. Only two bedrooms and a bath upstairs, but we five grandchildren piled on pallets and cots downstairs. Back then houses had large dining rooms because families still ate together and spent a bit of time doing it. And we had large living rooms for gathering together to watch TV. The bedrooms were just for sleeping, and the bathroom for a quick dash during the middle of the movie. Living space was what mattered.

My grandparents, Ernest and Dama

My grandfather was a silent, hard-working man. My grandmother was a fussy, insecure woman who played favorites with her grandchildren, and that's just honest. But she loved to make our childhoods glow with happiness and she adored giving gifts. Actually, she enjoyed shopping. But one year she made me, by hand, a magical doll's house, of sturdy cardboard box, glued and painted, two-storied with a front porch and tall pillars made of paper towel tubes. It was furnished beautifully and had two lamps that really lit up. Somewhere, I have a photo of myself and my friend Judy, seated in front of it seriously. Doll's house play was serious stuff. I treasured that house until it fell apart.

One Christmas we invented a novel scheme while we drove along the snowy highway to Charleston. We decided to surprise our grandparents. They knew we were coming, but they didn't know when, so we decided to pull up in a side street, sneak along behind the house to the back door, creep in through the kitchen, and scare them to death with loud grandchildren greetings. I don't remember their reactions, or even if we succeeded. So much of the joy, the pleasure, of childhood is in the thinking of a thing, the idea. It is my idea of Charleston in its Christmas dress, that I love. Very few specifics remain in my mind. But the image of the city, the frozen houses bundled up together in tidy rows, hunkered down along their steep mountain streets, that's what I remember. Visiting the Sears Department Store and standing before the massive square counter with sweets, chocolates and warm nuts. The aroma that filled the store as it did at no other time of year! The glow of street lamps that showed the way up the twisting roads as they disappeared into the deep mountains. Miss Inez's Christmas cookies, saved in stacks of tins in her closets, which tasted faintly of moth balls. I ate them anyway, they were so festive, so friendly.

I have searched for photographs of this Charleston in my mother's old photo albums that lie dusty around me here in her upstairs. The albums have been pilfered over the years by us children, always looking for those pictures that bring back the past. The best picture of all is in my mind's eye. We're grown now, and past grown, and our children's Christmases are formed in new mountains and newer homes. I still love my Charleston in its snowy mantle, its icy rivers, its houses that were small in size but large in heart.

Merry Christmas.

Leesburg Courthouse Controversey

2011-12-06T18:13:00.000-05:00

This is a fascinating story, and I'd like to thank Barbara Curtis, over at MommyLife, for bringing this to our attention. She lives near Leesburg, and has been following the continuing saga of the Christmas displays allowed on the courthouse lawn.

A local resident submitted his application to put up this display for the public's enjoyment, on the courthouse lawn. It was approved, and stood there. Santa, as a skeleton, on a cross. How many ways can we list, that this is wrong? Such a sad image for the average five year old to behold, driving by on the way to school.

The Leesburg authorities have had trouble in the past swallowing the "religious nature" of the Christmas displays. They don't want to offend local atheists, etc. But evidently they don't mind offending the Christians, or for goodness sakes, just all the happy holiday-goers who really, really don't want to see Santa as a skeleton, being crucified.

Evidently the man who made this display thought he was making a statement against the materialism and greed of Christmas. Yeah. That was exactly what I first thought of, when I saw it -- NOT! What idiots in the Leesburg courthouse bought that explanation?

Anyway, after it had been up a bit, a news crew went to check it out. And while they were there, they spotted a nice, soft-spoken lady, who walked up to the display and proceeded to dismantle it. Yippee! Three cheers for brave little ladies! Watch the video:

If I begin to wax eloquent on all the ways that the newslady and the athiest are wrong, I'll be here all night. Did you hear him say, "Offensiveness is in the eye of the beholder"? In other words, "Lady, if you don't like skeleton Santa, then just avert your eyes!" When the Nativity Scene he detests is up there, he needs to heed his own words.

One lady noted that although she isn't Buddhist, she would never want to put up a display that mocks or desecrates that religion. The key, you see, is that, although you may not agree with a particular religion, you should still treat it and its followers with common respect. There is no law that dictates that anything one does not personally avow must then be ridiculed and humiliated.

The newslady says that this woman is vandalizing the display. I consider vandalizing to be a violent act. She is just removing it from view, placing it on the ground. I imagine tomorrow it will be back up. What a hubbub this is causing!

Leesburg authorities: Please, please, only allow displays that are not intentionally mocking and offensive to the people who might cherish the items being used in the display. Yes, I understand that means that displays ought not mock and deride Mohammad or Buddha or any other faiths. Or Jesus. Or Jesus. Keep His cross out of it. I wonder -- will the lady leave the cross as it is? And will the atheist find the cross alone, offensive?

Lasagna

2011-12-05T21:27:00.001-05:00

Adam's lasagna, as promised:

Only, it isn't. I told him it didn't fill the house with the same enticing aroma. I was a tad disappointed. But he was working with inferior ingredients. I told him I had lasagna noodles, and I did. But they were made from (I kid you not) Jerusalem artichoke flour. Hmm. They were rather gummy. And he used the same canned tomatoes that we use weekly for our pizza sauce. I do love it on pizza; it's Del Monte diced tomatoes, the basil/oregano flavor. But it's not Adam's lasagna sauce. Boohoo!!!

So, here's how Adam usually makes his lasagna sauce:
About 30-32 oz. of tomato sauce (one large, or two regular, cans)
Finely minced garlic (3 or 4 big cloves), mushed up in a bit of salt
Oregano and basil to taste, quite a bit of basil, he says
1 lb. of pork sausage, cooked and chopped fine
Heat the sauce well before adding to the lasagna casserole.

The 3rd thing that wasn't right about tonight's lasagna was the pork. I usually just buy a lb. package of sausage in the cylinder shape. Tonight's pork wasn't flavored correctly; it didn't taste like your normal mild Jimmy Dean or a comparable brand.

So. Next time!! We will use normal noodles, normal sausage, and Adam's fabulous-smelling sauce. Yes!

Thinking on Tea

2011-12-05T16:41:00.000-05:00

Tea time! Time to pull out the wedding china, and wash it all. Time to look for pretty little dishes, candles, silver and other lovelies. I dug around in my boxes and found the china I want to use. The church ladies are having the Christmas Tea!!

(And Carolyn, if you read this, I sent you an email asking if you're coming. Are you?)

This weekend, I crocheted a tea cozy. The yarn is silky soft. Mother says it will get dirty too easily, and I suppose she's right. Julia says it looks like a hat. She wondered if she could have it, to wear as a hat. I said, "NO!"

I think it looks rather like a coconut cake, with toasted coconut trim - haha! I like the openings for the handle and spout. I didn't have a pattern, so I have no idea if I could replicate it. Mother says she'd like one for Christmas in a darker color. She loves blue.

So, I'll be trying to figure out what I did, in blue :) But this cozy will be at the Christmas Tea on Saturday - yay!

If you wonder where the food posts have all gone ... well ... I have a confession to make. Adam is now doing the evening cooking. I've become a slug again. We're living at my parents' home, which means I don't have my "own kitchen," with all my favorite little things around me. I didn't realize how much my enjoyment of cooking was really just an enjoyment of my kitchen, my home, my little things. Adam says he really loves to cook, and I'm only pretending, and honestly -- he's right. So, he's the cook again. I can't tell you how lovely it is not to worry (about 3:00 each afternoon) what I'm making for supper. He's in charge! Yay again!

Tonight's menu? Lasagna. Maybe I'll get a pic of it for you. I just checked to see if lasagna is listed on my "Cooking" page, and it's not. Sounds like another recipe is about to be added! His lasagna is fabulous. I've never smelled lasagna that smelled like Adam's. It fills the house and makes me SO hungry.

Distance

2011-12-03T08:22:00.001-05:00

The star burns

A thousand lifetimes away,

A giant to our little sun,

A speck in my dusky morning sky.

Some billion tons of gas,

He dangles like a teardrop

From the crooked limb

That cuts across my windowpane.

My eye, resting on sleep’s pillow

Gazes at him.

I blink, I move so slightly,

And he’s gone.

A flaming, writhing, mammoth star,

Obliterated by a twig.

I shift, and he’s there again,

And I know how fallible is man.

December 2, 2011

A little Christmas poetry:

2011-12-02T20:35:00.000-05:00

The darling of the world is come,

And fit it is, we find a room

To welcome Him. The nobler part

Of all the house here, is the heart,

Which we will give Him; and bequeath

This holly, and this ivy wreath,

To do Him honor; who’s our King,

And Lord of all this reveling.

-- Robert Herrick, from "A Christmas Carol"

Silvermont Festival of Trees

2011-12-02T20:23:00.000-05:00

Today we went to Silvermont with our homeschool group to see all the Christmas trees decorated inside. Silvermont is a lovely old home in town. Many fun social events are held there. It's no longer a private residence.

Mr. Grinch!

The theme this year must have been ribbons, because about half the trees were decked with them.

Many were gauzy wisps of ribbon, looped around the branches.

Grandmother came along too.

This one had a flashy ribbon:

A very red ribbon:

This one reminded me of an overly-shrouded bride, coming down the aisle.

Many of these cute paper stars twirled from the ceiling.

This was a favorite -- musical paper garland!

Is this getting you into the Christmas spirit? It should!