Seasons . . . and Changes

             The Play Room is becoming more
                    of a multipurpose room.

The "Grands" are growing up . . . 

A few at a time, the "little kids'" toys 

are going to new homes . . . 

It's okay . . . 

Really, it is.

The chunky Lego's are making room for the miniscule ones; the kind that lurk in unexpected places, waiting for vulnerable bare feet. (Oops, I honestly did not intend 

to vacuum up that piece.)

We knew when we created and gifted this space that it would morph into other uses in the years to come. Still . . . 

Change is never a neutral thing. 

Sometimes it's easy, sometimes hard; 

it can be exciting, or terrifying, or . . . devastating. 

The changing of the seasons is comforting, at least to me; security in predictability. No matter how hot and dry the summer is, fall is coming and with it rain (hopefully) and that brisk chill I love so much. Then, just when it seems we cannot bear another dreary wintery day, the wind shifts to out of the south and we rejoice that spring is here! 

So, when it's time for change, "in acceptance, lieth peace" (as Elisabeth Elliot http://www.elisabethelliot.org often quoted Amy Carmichael as saying) seems to be a wise choice. Not just a fatalistic acceptance, but an embracing 

of new chapters in the story of our lives and 

the certainty that there will be delightful 

gifts waiting, just around the corner, 

from the Father of lights.

Life A B

"So, what's on your A B calendar this week?" 

What? I'm sorry but I'm feeling a little addle-brained and have no idea what you're talking about.

Oh . . . After Beach! 

It dawned on me, five days after coming home, that I always crash and burn after a trip; it's just been so long since our east-west traveling days that I had forgotten. 

What's on my AB calendar is kids, kids, and more kids. That's my job, while everybody else goes off to theirs. I'm the "keeper of the flame," I guess. Today that meant staying in my jammies all day, going back and forth between houses, playing a brutal game of Star Wars Monopoly with ruthless, greedy mini tycoons (you know who you are!), popping corn the absolute best, old-fashioned way in an electric popper with perfectly healthy coconut oil, and torturing the children with a $5.99 western DVD that will now be passed along to some other unsuspecting soul. 

Besides all of the above, I scrambled eggs. Two separate times. (We were one short the last batch so I sent a kid to check the coop and bring back what he found, which was an incredulous idea to another one; you would have thought I had told him to go pull eggs out of a hat.) 

As far as being productive, I don't think I even made it on the chart today but somehow I feel that what was accomplished was exactly what was supposed to be. 

Perspective

It's not until the grass begins to crunch under my feet and I have to drag the water hose all over the yard just to keep my botanical treasures from teetering at the brink of death that I remember, oh yeah, this is my least favorite time of year. When I go out to visit my beautiful garden, all I can see is an overgrown mess and it's easy to forget how glorious it will be, LORD willing, come late spring.

Don't tell the butterflies how dismal things are, though; they're completely oblivious, not caring the least bit that the garden is once again my "wild child" -- unruly and rebelling against every boundary I've set. They're too busy flitting from zinnia to cosmos, hungrily drinking in every ounce of nectar, dancing through the air like tipsy ballerinas.  As I sat on the garden bench, determining to see past the disarray and appreciate the beauty that was truly there, it occurred to me that I could be getting pictures of these 'painted ladies' so I dashed in the house to grab my camera.

First Love

July 12, 2016

What does it mean to "leave your first love"?

Maybe, when we first become Christians everything is new and exciting. So much to learn, so much to know, and we are so eager to please this Savior-- the One who has done so much, so very much for us. " We will do anything for You, LORD!"

After a while, we begin to settle into this routine of doing. We don't ask anymore, "What would You have me do?" because we already know. We get up in the morning and start our doing, our living for God. We go through the motions, set ourselves on autopilot. Maybe, without even realizing it, our service becomes . . . self-service. It feels good, after all, to be doing all the right things and pleasing God, to boot! 

Except, we're not.

We may have fooled ourselves into believing we are following His agenda but He knows the truth. All dressed up in our Sunday-best, we are once again calling the shots, setting our own schedules; taking the skeleton pieces of His will and fleshing it out to make it our own. Something we can feel more comfortable with; a better fit.

Well then, if the love He wants from us is a love that obeys and serves, but not on our own terms, what does that look like?

Is it opening our eyes in the morning and our first thought being, "There is nothing on my agenda today that is set in stone. Your will, not mine, be done"?

Making sure there is time for Him, with Him before anything or anyone else?

Choosing to be still and quiet when every fiber of our being strains to be up and going?

Decreasing, as He increases, even when we desperately desire to be acknowledged, affirmed?

" Remember therefore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do the first works."

Remember. 

    

Bless Her Sweet, Motherly Heart

"Did you get the eggs today," he asked, after shutting the girls safely in their sleeping coop for the night.

"No. Why?"
"Well, Giblet's in the little coop and I just left her in there. Do you think she's sitting on them? She must be broody again."

For the second time this year, poor Giblet, the most motherly hen in the flock, seemed determined to hatch a little family of her own. Without a resident rooster, however, Giblet's most sincere efforts would be sadly futile. 

So, I went out to see for myself and, sure enough, there she was-- not on the roost to sleep, trying to enjoy a night to herself, away from the other girls--  but sitting in the nest box with that far away look in her eyes.

The last time this happened with the old girl, my first thought was that she was egg-bound so I brought her in the house, ran a Dale I go bath, and submerged her bottom in it. It must have felt wonderfully relaxing because she soon expressed an enormous   . . . poop. Absolutely not what I had anticipated would come out! (Caleigh had been observing this "Operation Rescue" and, horrified, announced that she would never take another bath in that tub! I assured her, as I let out the water, sprayed the messiness down the drain, and ran clean water, that I would be scrubbing the bathtub with bleach before anyone needed it.) It was only after I had wrapped Giblet in a towel to dry her, wondering what the next step would be, that the Preacher suggested that she might be broody. Aha! 

For the next few days, Giblet persisted in staying on the eggs the other girls laid so I would remove them and put a few ice cubes in their place. She never gave me a fit when I would pick her up and take "her" eggs and it wasn't long until the instinct to hatch chicks seemed to pass and she was back out with the other girls, scratching and digging craters in the yard.

This last attempt by Giblet to brood was much easier to thwart and ended quickly. Maybe the urge wasn't as strong as before or maybe, just maybe, it was just not worth all the trouble it caused her.

Happy Flowers

Elissa and I agree that zinnias are the happiest flowers 

in the garden and that you can never have too many of them.

So, when seedlings from last year's flowers started coming up everywhere, 

we pulled up the brave little plants and tucked them safely into beds, 

far from the path of the lawnmower.

We can't be certain, of course, but we imagine that each of them 

sighed a great sigh of relief and are most grateful for the rescue.

A Lovely Garden

"If you would have a mind at peace,

A heart that would not harden,

Go find a door that opens wide

Upon a lovely garden."

~ author unknown 

Adventures!

Elissa be-bopped over this afternoon as soon as she finished her homework and found me where she knew I would be--in the garden. I was so glad to see her sweet, cheerful face, especially since our time together yesterday didn't end on the happiest note. She's become my gardening partner, this grandgirl of mine, and is old enough now to be a lot of help. 

I was about halfway through digging the second post hole for my magnificent soon-to-be-revealed project and it was a welcome break to have her assist me in transplanting stray zinnia seedlings from the yard into the garden. After finishing the zinnias, we began to gather cosmos seedlings and that's when I spotted a caterpillar and we forgot all about our transplants as we excitedly began to search the Internet to determine what kind of caterpillar we had and what kind of butterfly it would become. With a light rain falling, we huddled over my phone under the canopy of the swing and scrolled through what seemed like hundreds of caterpillars, some of them strange beyond imagination, until finally we found one that looked just like ours.

This caterpillar was destined to become an American Lady butterfly! Elissa immediately wanted to create a habitat for it so we could watch the metamorphosis and off we went in search of just the right container for its home. What did this caterpillar eat, we wondered, and so we did another search and discovered that it likes rudebeckia (Black-Eyed Susan) plants. We located plenty of those in the garden and found some suitable twigs for pupation. Elissa and I agreed that this had been a grand adventure. A grand adventure indeed! 

            One just never knows what fun surprises are hiding 

       in the garden, simply waiting to be discovered!

Emerald Green Sugar Crystals

We had the best time today! She almost apologetically asked if she could use my kitchen for a project. Why, of course! How fun! So she took out the bread dough, floured the counter and rolled out a 12" x 18" (or there-abouts) rectangle; spread on some cream cheese and powdered sugar, all blended and smooth and yummy, and we set it in the warm oven to rise. The real fun came after baking when we drizzled icing and sprinkled colored sugar crystals on top, just like in the picture on the recipe. Smiling, we stepped back to appraise our work and nodded our approval.
After I pushed her out the door to get to her next responsibility with her protesting about leaving a mess, or something to that effect, I began to tidy up the kitchen. "I'll save these sugar crystals we colored to use another time," I said to myself. Then He said, "Throw them away." What? Would He say that?
What about that venerable old saying, "waste not, want not"? Surely He would want me to leave those wet, sticky, emerald-green sugar crystals laying out on foil on the counter for days until they were dry enough to store to use in some unknown-but-certain-to-come project. Surely! Like the spices that are ten years out of date or the spaghetti that's growing mold in the fridge, I can hardly bring myself to even think about tossing those green sugar crystals.

Do you want to know what my friend had to say about our day?
"There is no other friend who would allow me to come in and do what we did today. How I love you my dear!!!"

         By the way, I threw away the green crystals.

Lucy, The Easter Egger

Lucy is by far our tamest hen. She doesn't mind being picked up and petted (well, she doesn't mind too much.) She's definitely top on the pecking order, having no trouble at all keeping poor Violet in her place. She's also our boldest hen, coming right in the back door whenever she gets a chance.She never goes past the laundry room but doesn't hesitate at all about coming in the house. When the Preacher had the back door open, working on the deadbolt lock, she walked right between his feet and made herself at home. He wasn't in her way at all!

 

Lucy isn't our most comical hen--that's Violet's title, with her funny, floppy comb--but she comes in a very close second. She has no comb to speak of and no wattle, and she has puffy muff things on the sides of her head. She lays beautiful blue-green eggs (although not a one since her molt) and overall, she's a great hen. Or was, that is.

Sunday morning, I looked out the kitchen window and noticed that there were a lot of wood shavings on the girls' ramp. We went on to church and when we got back home, I went out to check for eggs. I was surprised to not see Lucy come running but thought, "Oh good, she's finally on the nest!" When I opened the box to see and she wasn't there, somehow I just knew we had lost her. I looked around and did see some feathers but not more than she had lost when molting. I grudgingly went back into the house to tell the Preacher the sad news and together we went out to search the yard, hoping for the best but fearing the worst. Our Lucy was gone and we could now only try and determined what had happened. After doing some detective work, we decided that something had climbed up a pallet leaning against the fence and helped itself to a chicken dinner. I felt really terrible, considering the fact that I had gotten complacent about shutting the girls in at night and now I felt responsible for making it easy for a predator to take our Lucy. We went inside to take a nap, both feeling a little despondent. That evening, though, we were ready and on guard when, sure enough, the culprit returned to help itself to another delicious feast--a raccoon! The Preacher managed to trap it in the round enclosure and handily dispensed with it. It was bittersweet, though, because it didn't bring our Lucy back but at least we felt that she had been vindicated. The grandkids still talk about Lucy and miss being able to easily pick her up, unlike the other hens who are more flighty. Bless your heart, dear Lucy. You were a great chicken with which to start a flock.

 

 



Let Me Grow Lovely

 

Let me grow lovely, growing old--

So many fine things do:

Laces, and ivory, and gold,

And silks need not be new:

And there is healing in old trees,

Old streets a glamour hold:

Why may not I, as well as these,

Grow lovely, growing old?

 

~Karle Wilson Baker

 
One of the ways that our town, the oldest in Texas, is going back to its rich historical roots is in the placing of bronze statues of significant citizens on a "History Walk" that stretches from downtown to the corner past Memorial Hospital (as of this writing; a statue is scheduled to be added at the corner of Mound and Starr.) The statue walk begins in the heart of our small city and continues along tree-lined streets filled with gingerbread-trimmed Victorian homes, Indian burial mounds, schools, and churches. One of my favorite poems was written by the woman who is memorialized in one of the statues, at the corner of Mound and Park streets, Karle Wilson Baker. The first time I read this poem, I was much younger but, still, it struck a chord with me. I do love old things, especially stately old homes, exquisite antique lace, and pretty much anything "shabby chic." Things that have passed the test of time.

 

So, one may be thinking, what does this have to do with being a farm girl? Everything! Farm girls are down-to-earth, do-it-yourselfers who have a heightened appreciation for the life all around them, as well as the life within them. Farm girls know the feel of dewy grass underfoot, the warmth of a just-laid egg, the softness of a baby bunny, and the delight of finding the first seedlings of spring. The life of a farm girl is a poem itself, with rhythm, movement, and rhyme. The ebb and flow of the seasons resonate within a farm girl's soul and she is keenly aware of the contribution she makes in the grand scheme of life. Whether in the backyard cleaning the coop, or fireside with book or knitting in hand,  or smartly dressed in heels and a business suit, a farm girl is a farm girl where ever she is or whatever she's doing, because that's what she was born to be.      

 

 

Construction Zone! Part Two

So, now the inside of the "bonus" space is painted

and the wire shelving is going up.

 

 

Ta-Da!

Three beautiful deep wire shelves plus the space

at the bottom, just itching to be filled!

 

Initially, I thought I might paint the inside of the pantry

 and was in the process when a little helper arrived.

 So I gave him the brush and let him go to town.

He was so proud of himself (and so was I!)

 

Now the bonus space is completely walled-in and painted.

I decided not to take the time to paint the entire pantry space

but the back wall definitely needed it since I used various pieces of

left-over wall board and it had a not-so-pleasing patchwork look.

 

It's time to begin installing the shelving in the side walls.

As I always do, before I begin a project, I spent hours on the

internet, searching for ideas, suggestions, and other people's

solutions. I came across a brilliant invention by a fellow

Texan that would have been fabulous if I had not been on a

tight budget--The EZ Stud Rack.

 

 However, it is what it is . . .  so back to the drawing board I went

and came up with the idea of using pegboard and shelf pegs.

(Most of my inspiration hits as I roam the aisles of Lowe's!)

 

I bought sheets of pegboard and cut it into strips, then screwed the

strips into the studs, using pieces of quarter-inch wood as spacers

 between the stud and pegboard so that the shelf pegs would push

all the way into the holes.

 

I went from just above the floor to the ceiling on both walls, installing

wider strips of pegboard on the right side for wider shelves, since the

right side has a few inches more space than the left. 

 

As tempted as I was to stuff the entire space with the widest shelves

possible, I didn't want the pantry to feel too crowded.

 

 

The shelf pegs were more economical to buy in quantities of twenty. I lost count of how many bags I ended up buying (technically, I could go back over my receipts, but sometimes, ignorance is bliss.) I also found some plastic pegs on clearance at another hardware store and ended up using three different kinds of shelf pegs before I was done but you don't notice them so it doesn't matter. I was going for utility rather than showiness and, anyway, isn't variety the spice of life? (I do have to say I've come a long way from the day that I would NEVER have mixed and matched but instead would have worn myself out making sure it was all PERFECT.  Ahhhh, sweet freedom!)

One thing you do have to watch for is the size of the pegs.

If you have 1/4" pegboard, you must use 1/4" pegs.

If you just assume all pegs are 1/4", then be prepared to

head to the returns desk on your next trip to Walmart.

 

Trust me on this one.

 I must pause to give credit where credit is due . . .

how could I have ever done this project without

the assistance of our Head Hen, Lucy?

 

"I wanna cut some wood! Can I? Please, please, please???"

 

(And there's Miss Violet, standing by,  waiting for her turn.)

 

 

 

 

 

I went with shelf pegs so I could adjust the shelves to different heights.

This has proven to be a very good choice. Two shelf pegs on each side

to hold the shelf and one on each side to keep the shelf from tipping.

 

I've since discovered other options for tipping prevention--just plain

 pegs would work or even pieces of quarter-inch dowel rods. This was

 definitely a learn-as-you-go project and yes, there are some things

I would do differently but, over all, I'm very pleased.

 

 

 

 

The shelves were cut from 1"x4"s and 1"x8"s and slip between the shelf

pegs (not always so easily but at least they're a nice, tight fit.)

 

One thing I had to be careful to do was to make sure the pegboard

holes were lined up so the shelf would be level. A few times, rather

than move the pegboard strip, I just drilled new holes.

 

You gotta do what you gotta do.

 

 

 I didn't even have all the shelving in place

before I just HAD to start filling the new pantry!

 

The fact that I can only fit one item deep on the narrower shelves and

two deep on the wider ones, makes it so easy to see at a glance exactly

what I have on hand and when it's time to re-stock. No more pulling

 out ten items to get to the one thing I need in the very back.

 

 LOVE IT!

 

 

As an afterthought, I installed pegboard to the back wall to hang tools.

 

 No space wasted!!!

 

The flooring is vinyl left over from the rent house renovation.

I also glued a piece to the bottom of the bonus space for easier

clean-up and a nicer appearance.

 

 I'm still adding shelves and have re-arranged a few things since

this picture was taken but all-in-all, this project is COMPLETE!

 

We are loving our new pantry and as an extra bonus, our laundry

space is much neater AND now I have room to install a barn-type

door for the pantry. Yay, another project!!!