Staying focused...

~today on the porch

Middle daughter's birthday, and she's feeling better from her cold, so all is well. Trying to stay focused. Felt unsettled earlier because I was frustrated at the washer drain.  The folks who owned this house before us tried to be handy, and as a result made strange decisions on the electrical and plumbing. Nothing unsafe, but maybe classed as unconventional.

Our washer drains directly through the cabinets and into the double sink and when the sink gets clogged (which is often), the boys have to go on the roof to clear the drain with the hose. Well, in the rain, third son went up there to fix it for me, and afterward the pipe connection underneath the sink came loose, and water was having to drain in a bowl under the sink.  A big pain.  Had to wait until second son stopped by since he has the hands of Zeus, very strong, and he was able to tighten the whatchamacallit.  All is well again.

It claimed my focus for a bit, though.  I got hacked off and with it so wet outside, and the potential for wet inside----well, I got cranky.  Easy to do.

Fine now, though.  I think.  Still have shortcakes to make, and the Greek casserole to put together.  Not to mention whipping the kids into shape to tidy the house, fold the clothes, vacuum and all-around get it all together.  We've been housekeeping slackers lately, and it shows.  Odd how things pile up in my visual world and that they irritate my spirit inside.  I know that after we get the house tidy, my insides will be content again. And all will be well.

Day's end

~the cup that kept me going

Glad to be able to stop after a busy day. Started off taking middle daughter to the dental school for a couple of fillings, and for them to check on her wires (not braces, but trying to move a tooth into an empty slot). Then a couple of errands, then home. She crashed. Just not up-to-par this week, so she took a much-needed nap.  I rested (window up in bedroom---wonderful breeze), then prepared for round two.

Fetched oldest daughter at her job (she'd lent me her truck today), then to the grocery store.  Home to cook, then out to get middle daughter's birthday presents for her day tomorrow. Fun to see responses when folks hear her birthday is on Halloween, or Reformation Day, depending on who you're talking to. :)

Just thankful now for groceries to make her a sweet dinner---what we call The Greek Dish---spanakopita with chicken. Yum-ness extraordinaire.  And strawberry shortcake for dessert, her choice.

Looking forward to a nice, rainy day tomorrow.  Baking, some schoolwork which will likely be spotty for birthday girl, and restfulness, I'm hoping.

Mothering

Sometimes life is so mundane as to be not-so-interesting-to-read-for-folks-who-don't-really-know-me.  This is one of those days.  Not much going on, but plain living.  Got up a bit later than usual since oldest daughter had her turn with getting up with the dogs and chickens.  I love that.  Every other day I have off from getting up at dawn.  Not sure how this'll fly, however, when we turn back the clocks on Saturday night. Those chickens will be making racket at 6am and not 7am, I do believe.

Tidied up the kitchen, then saw fourth son working on his laptop.  He's having to cram some Algebra, etc. for the re-do of the Guard test.  I sat down with him for about an hour going over things.  Click.  He began to remember what he'd learned several years ago.  Just needed a refresher course.

Then math with the others.  Not my strong suit, but it's do-able.  We're word people, rather than number crunchers, so for me it's a bit of a stretch sometimes.

And after I think on what fills my days, I realize my job is so necessary.  My husband would shake his head at me even saying that.  Not always personally satisfying, since I'd like to be creating art around the house (painting and drawing), but it's what I do.  I used to have a friend online who quoted someone who said her children would be her story.  She'd never write the novel of the decade, but her babies would be her legend. Now, I'm not quite sure how legendary our children will be, but I have given it my best.  And while that could be brought into question, considering how scattered I sometimes feel---I have few regrets.

That wasn't meant to sound cryptic, but it sort of did.  Not intentional.  Just cutting to the chase.  Life is most often all about those around me and not me.  I can deal with that.  It's as it should be. Hopefully the Lord being mirrored in my life will reflect positively on our children.  That's my prayer.

'Every Waking Moment' by Chris Fabry

At the risk of sounding trite, there really are some stories that stay with you after you read them, and Chris Fabry's Every Waking Moment is one of those books.  And while initially I was a bit put off by Fabry's changing the focus every few chapters---causing the font to change and the characters to switch-up, I soon became used to it.  It worked. In fact, it was necessary.

The story is about Treha, an unusual young woman who was abandoned as a small child.  After being raised in foster homes, she develops a unique gift which she puts to good use at the retirement home where she works.  She's able to make the hardest-to-reach residents to respond---to talk, laugh and comprehend her. It's almost magical.

What not clear, though, is how she does it.  Where does she come from?  How will the writer explain her physical disabilities? Why was she abandoned and what will become of her when her job is threatened? Turns out there's a mystery with a pharmaceutical company, tensions with a particular character in the retirement home who stirs up the residents and employees, and difficult situations concerning the sympathetic director of the home.  They all blend together beautifully which causes me to believe that Fabry gave his heart to the writing of this story. It couldn't have been written quickly and without great care.

It's very touching and I gladly recommend it.

(i received this book free to review from tyndale)

Saturday night

We have a friend at church, a woman in her late seventies, who I really adore.  I wish you could her her talk---a delicious South Alabama accent. I make excuses to ask her things just to hear her speak.  I'm Southern too, but can't hold a candle to her voice.  Gracious. She's the one some of you might remember who suggested me helping her write her life story. Anyway, her second husband died at the beginning of September and she and her housekeeper left for Florida at the first of October. They've spent the entire month away.  Her daughter was going to come down a bit as well, but mostly just her and her housekeeper, who's become a close friend in addition to being her employee.

Doesn't that sound amazing?  'Course she's very wealthy, so this sort of exercise in relaxation is more attainable for her.  But for others of us doesn't it sound relaxing to fit in true rest in an ordinary day?  To really stop and take the time to take care.  I did have a taste of that today when I had a short nap.  I'd gotten up to tend our priest's wildlife this morning and came back wanting to go back to bed, but took my tea tray to bed instead. My feet were cold!  (Our priest and his wife have been at a diocese meeting and vacation since last Sunday and the kids and I have tended their pets (4 dogs, 2 kittens and 8 chickens).  Two visits/day during the week and 3 trips/day this weekend. Thankfully we can divide it up.)

Anyway, I think I'm exhausted.  And I've got to figure out on a daily basis how to manage better.  I believe more of us walk around during the day like the walking wasted.  My shoulders stay tense and I'm consistently listening to the sharings of our children, and of Gary when he comes back  home from the shop. Too much information, with too little to go back in.  A woman's dilemma, yes?

For now I'm going to read this book:  A Million Little Ways: Uncover the Art You Were Made to Live by Emily P. Freeman. It should come in the mail this week.  Something happens to me when I read about this book----when I open the sample pages on Amazon---when I simply think about it.  I cry.  There must be something going on.  I call it the Holy Spirit trying to get my attention.  Watch this little video, here.

Thanks to Peggy at A Simple Woman who shared about this. Now I must go eat dinner. :)

Son updates

Fourth son passed his physical for the Guard today, but a couple of days ago he heard that there were problems with his score on the written part of the testing.  Being homeschooled puts him in a different category from those who graduated from accredited schools, so his numbers have to be brought up.  He'll have 3 weeks to cram, and then can take one of the tests again.  Maybe partly it's because he graduated 4 years ago and could have benefited from studying.  That would've been wise, but he tends to be impulsive, doing whatever he wants 'in the moment,' which in this case wasn't a smart thing to do.

Bottom line.  He didn't get sworn in.  Fine with us---gives his dad and me time to acclimate ourselves to what's going on. He'll still leave on January 6th, but until he's signed on the dotted line, so to speak, there's still room for us to adjust.

I think I exhaled for the first time since Sunday when he got back from the physical.  Much better.

Thanks for your sweet comments regarding all of it. :)

Today

Thoughts on Wednesday

Have been trying to find the time to make my tinctures this week, but haven't made it happen.  There's something almost hypnotic about getting out my brandy and vinegar, the herbs in little bags, my jars and then setting everything out on the kitchen counter.  All I lack is a magic wand.  It really is magical. Or maybe it's mesmerizing.  The scents of the mixtures and the total absorption of my attention.  Rarely do I do things that are so enthralling that I lose myself, but this is one of those things.

Must make time to do it.  Must.

I need something settling to focus my attention.

Our son's physical for the Guard is on Friday and he wants Gary and me to be there afterward for his swearing in.  The last step before it's all finalized.  He'll keep working for most of the time before his ship-out date of January 6th.  He'll go to Oklahoma. Thankful for the holidays to enjoy before that happens.

Gosh.  I'm such a pushover of a mother.  Can we love them any more than we already do?  Mercy.

More on our son...

Met with our son's recruiting officer, which wasn't on my to-do list last week since we were unaware, but fit into this week nicely enough.  It's hard for me to switch gears, and go in directions I'd not previously expected.  I get over-stressed, maybe to the extreme, but that's just the way I am.  Calm on the outside, a mess on the inside.

Nice guy, though.  Very personable and he kept asking if we had questions, which we really didn't.  My husband had already had a heart-to-heart conversation with our son last night, and I was in the room, but not adding much.  They covered, pretty much, all the loose ends.  Before we left the National Guard office, the sergeant asked me if I had any questions, and I had to just shake my head.  I said I knew he'd been through this many times before with parents, and I also knew that if I said more I'd cry.  Just sort of full up.

It's all about giving birth to this child, and him having a precarious beginning anyhow, since I had problems early on with that pregnancy.  Nothing long-lasting, but a few weeks in we thought we'd lost him.  An ultra-sound showed that there was still a heartbeat, but for a day or so, we weren't sure.  He's named Joseph for the story in the Old Testament about being lost and then being found.  He's been lost spiritually as well, but thankfully seems to be on a sturdy path.  For my boy to be in the military, albeit isn't the Marines, or another brutal branch, it's still going to be extremely hard.  Boot camp ain't a walk in the park.  That's hard for me.

This story plays out with families on a daily basis, but it's not happened to me or our kids, so that in itself is the challenge.

Extended thoughts on yesterday's news

Nerves shot.  That relief of our son wanting to enlist with the Army National Guard has been tempered a bit. He's all revved up, we're a bit overwhelmed and if I was a drinker, I'd be drinking.  Too much energy spinning around and this is moving a bit faster than I'm comfortable with.  My initial reaction yesterday is a tiny bit different today.  Reality, I guess.

I tend to make decisions slowly and with lots of thought.  This son is impulsive, which has been a challenge for us.

Just had a cup of tea.  The warmth was a soothing break.  This is how I roll.  Hit me with something out of the blue and I tend to run to comfort.  My bed, an escaping book, prayer on the front porch---you get my drift.  I think I was so surprised by his decision, I was agreeable and encouraging to him, not taking my own feelings into consideration.  Mothering.  Hard and exhausting.  I was reading last night, and middle daughter crawled into bed with me.  She was all sniffly, and had been crying out on the swing.  Just worrying about her brother. Sweet, but hard for her.  What we do affects more folks than just us.  It'd pay to remember that.

But as I told my friend Tina---for someone else to be in charge of him for a time (basic training aka hell) is a relief to think about.  Maybe that was part of my reaction yesterday. Someone else be in charge.  I'm tired of the job, but really, with these kids getting older, I need to let go a bit.  Having a child join the military is the perfect solution, I guess.  Do you think?

Must focus on my job here, and this seems to be a recurring theme.  Do my job, support my husband and children, yet be able to remove myself from their lives as well.  Together, yet apart.  Easier said than done.

Things going on...

Driven to tears this afternoon---partly for relief, joy and more relief.  First off, my friend Tina is in town with her husband, and they came to church and stayed afterward for the fish fry. Wonderful to see her again for the first time in 3 years.  She's the one I came to know so well six years ago when her sister, Lisa, was sick with ALS.

Anyway, after we came home from church, third son told us he was joining the Army National Guard.  He'll get a physical on Friday, and be sworn in.  Sometime this week, Gary and I will need to meet his recruiting officer. He'll go to boot camp in January, and will make strides in getting in shape in-between time.  He's excited and we're excited for him.  He sweetly says he didn't want to enlist in something that would take him completely away from home, but wants centering, I'm thinking.  He craves the discipline, but the one weekend/month later will be more suitable for my slightly rebellious boy.  Besides, he's so miserable at the restaurant---the manager being a tyrant.  Second son who also works there will say the same.  I'm thinking he'll be leaving that job soon too.

Resting now.  Feeling blessed and relieved at this son having a focus.  He's struggled so much this year, and this will be a proving ground for him.  My goodness.  Two boys moved out this year, and another one on the move.  Grateful third son's boot camp will be after the holidays.  Thankfully the boys are sensitive to my desires. Last year this time, I asked the older boys to please wait until after Christmas before moving, and they did. This arrangement with third son is good.  Very good. Growing up pinches, but is necessary.

And, btw, comments are back on.  Seems I'm having to make sure the comments are open via the Options button at the posting page.  Not a big deal, but odd that clicking them on through the Settings didn't work. Whatever.  Let 'er rip!

Saturday evening

"I always know when Cecily has cleaned a room," Mrs. Quin says often.  "It smells of well-being."~from Rumer Godden's China Court

Friday chicken updates

~anastasia after the fact

I was having my tea in the living room this morning when Anastasia began the 'I laid an egg' announcement. Since some of the children were still asleep, I went out there to hush her up. Turns out, she was still in the nesting box, and Milk was in the same box---back to front.  Anastasia's egg was there and even though there's another perfectly fine nesting box, they all prefer the one to the right.  Go figure.

Anyway, picked Anastasia up, Milk got situated, hugged A. for a minute and put her on the ground.  Almost immediately she began her honking again, and it was so funny--it's pretty chilly this morning, and every time she'd honk (really would remind you of a goose), her breath would come out all steamy.  Just made me laugh. Tiny little chicken steam.

In other news, we had five eggs (one from each of them) yesterday.  All laying well, and most days we get at least four. Our egg box in the fridge is so pretty with all browny-pinky, sage green and light aqua eggs.  Not a white one in sight.

I do love our chickens.  Truly Zen-like creatures.

This morning...

~too cold for tea outside this morning

Exercising snafu

Watched 'The Biggest Loser' last night and got inspired. Weighed myself this morning (no change in several weeks), have used the APP on my phone for keeping tabs on eating/calories and exercise as well.  The funniest thing I did, though, was get on the treadmill.  Gary's been diligent in doing a walking routine at night, not that he needs to lose weight, not at all (he's all muscle and wire), but he's trying to build his endurance. Since he quit smoking in favor of vaping, his breathing is much, much better.  He's just taking care.

Anyway, he's doing the weight-loss workout---the lowest setting of all, since it's probably good for beginners and it moves at a pace you don't have to program into the machine. This morning I set up the treadmill to do the same, and ended up laughing my head off.  In a 30 minute period of time, the speed picks up very quickly, the grade changes, the command to pick up the weights keeps coming up and my short little legs could NOT keep up.  I told Gary I felt like if I picked up the weights, I'd fly off the back of the treadmill.  It was going that fast.  I had to hold on.  Imagine a flag blowing in the breeze. That was me.  I held onto the bars in front of me that measure your heart rate, and it was all I could do to keep up.

And the least one kept coming in the room to check up on me, shaking her head at me kicking the box of chicken feed that sits directly behind the treadmill.  I'd walk some....smack...walk some more...smack.

After 12 minutes, I was done.

Must back it off some, or you'll see me whipping past your window.

'God in Slow Motion' by Mike Nappa

Mike Nappa's book, God in Slow Motion is correctly titled.  He takes stories about our Lord and elaborates on them, sometimes taking a bit of creative license, but always gets to the heart of the matter. And he takes his time over them.

My favorite line in the whole book comes at the beginning, when Nappa talks about what we're to do, and how we're supposed to react when tough times come to us.  The word to the Lord is, "So what do we do now, God?"  "Nothing.  Strangely enough, it all turns out well.  My grace is enough."

I find that a comfort  We do nothing.  And still it all works out.

In addition, the author shares about how hardship is the human condition, making note that Christian history is full of stories of pain and suffering.  For some reason, here in the 21st century we've been sold a bill of goods, most likely by television evangelists that difficulties can be eradicated.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

Another quote:  "...Christian history is filled with the suffering of the saints.  A peek inside the walls of your church will reveal more of the same happening today.  My guess is that you, too, have personally experienced pain while being held firmly in the hand of God."

Well-said.

(i received this book free to review from thomas nelson/booksneeze)

Thinking about things

This afternoon I re-joined Lesley's Wisteria & Sunshine site (blog link gives description).  I feel the need (as I told her) for some of her brand of grounding.  With no transportation during the day for outings, or trips for the kids to go my mom's for the afternoon, and an absence of time to myself (I'm never alone at home anymore), the weight of busyness seems to engulf me. There is no quiet.

Thinking that reading about Lesley's days and her suggestions, not to mention her photographs, will go a long way in settling down my spirits. They do seem to fly all over the place.  Can't settle.

I sit here and try to figure out when I lost my way at home. This current year has been such a strain.  My mom's lack of involvement in our lives, and her odd behavior which includes my own estrangement from my brothers. Two of our boys moving out. My husband's work suffering with the difficulties lots of folks have experienced.  And my mental state being a bit on the shaky side----nerves, you know.  All of this has compounded to make my life a bit slippery.

Just wanted to share.  Maybe even one of you knows how this feels---the getting older, kids moving here and there, and having a hard time finding a place to be.  Sometimes life pinches a bit.  Mental grounding, and for me, my wonderful Anglican church life, play special parts for me.  Just need help here and there.

Rest-time

The least one made cake.  I ate my piece. It's about to rain. There's a dear little chicken (not one of ours---we don't eat our friends) simmering on top of the stove for barley soup.  And all is well.

Domestic wildlife

~milk eating cracked corn

Just finished having tea with the chickens.  I had to laugh. When I sat down with my tea tray, before I even put the tray on the bench, Milk was there in my face wanting to eat my oatmeal.  She was so close.  I had to scoop some out for her, but it was too gooey, and got stuck on her beak. Not her favorite thing, by any means.

And, in a sense of celebration, Milk laid her first egg yesterday, about a month behind the other four.  I think she was so relieved afterward, I can imagine her saying to herself, "Man. Glad that's over with.  Have had a pain for days, and now I feel so much better.  On to other things." Not realizing she'll be back in the nesting box either today or tomorrow (most likely tomorrow), having another ache in her backside.

Which brings to mind us possibly having to buy eggs in the winter months.  A chicken's laying is directly affected by the amount of light they get on a daily basis.  With it being dark-ish here in January and February, it'll be interesting to see how many eggs we'll get.  Now we're averaging 3-4/day.  I was looking at brown eggs at the grocery store last night, pricing them (about $2.50-$3.50/dozen) and trying to decide what I'd buy if I had to buy.  I've sworn off white eggs, especially after all the reading I've done.  Sort of have become an egg snob. Don't like the idea of the little beggars being stuffed in boxes and fed to be quick layers.  And I refuse to buy extra-large eggs, no matter the color, after finding out that they're fed a different diet so as to get bigger eggs.  That's got to hurt. As I said, an egg snob.

Not trying to guilt any of you out of buying white, though. Consider this.  A chicken's brain is about the size of a man's fingernail.  Not sure they really mind being in close quarters. Feed 'em and they appear to be happy.  Just saying.  And if I'm going to be honest----a brown egg isn't any guarantee of a happy chicken.  I think we've been brainwashed into thinking a brown egg is organic and guilt-free.  Not so sure that's the case.  If an egg producer is going big time, then the conditions for the chickens have to be brought into focus. Might just eat fewer eggs come winter-time.  We'll adjust. Anyway, just the other day, we dropped an egg outside, right after Nora had laid it.  We had a moment of silence out of respect for her sitting diligently for 1/2 an hour and then sacrificing an egg to the ground.  It was a sad day.

Now onto other things.  It's a wonderful, overcast day.  Still deeply thankful for the work in Gary's shop. Groceries in the kitchen, and a spring in my step.  Feeling content and so blessed.  Wish I had the knack for feeling so fabulous when there's not work in the shop, but haven't achieved that level of faith, and not sure I ever will.  To know the bills are being/going to be paid is pretty darn fine.

Must go now.  Piglet has just announced that she's laid her morning egg.  She goes bok-bok-buhCAW and then the Pugs bark (in the house, no less), and then the big dogs howl.  An unnecessary chain reaction, but what can you do?

Sunday afternoon

~nora finishing my oatmeal yesterday

Lying in bed---just took a short nap.  The window's open and I can hear the least one out back singing to herself.  She's with the the chickens, which is, pretty much, her favorite place to be.  Oldest daughter made lasagna, which is baking in the oven and everyone else is in their rooms taking it easy.

Tonight the girls and I will watch 'The Amazing Race' and then watch 'The Paradise' on Masterpiece Theatre.  We'll eat a store bought cake.  I in fact believe every situation is improved with cake.  Haven't been proven wrong as of yet.

Will begin the week quietly.  With our illness at bay, nice to feel good again.  Will catch up on schoolwork, tidy up the house, do some things that have been left undone for a couple of weeks, and enjoy the anticipation of my very dearest friend coming in to town on Saturday.  Life is darn good just now.

Saturday afternoon

~complete with a dish of cracked corn

Saw an owl late last night as I was bringing some things in from the clotheslines.  Just glanced over toward the wood fence at the street, thinking the boys were home from the restaurant. Instead I saw the owl swoop from the ground up to the oak next door.  Large, white, wingspan about 30" or so. Beautiful, and didn't make a sound.  We'd been hearing it this week, and have been keeping an eye on the Pugs when they'd be out.  I realize a 20lb. Pug is an unlikely dinner, but you do hear tales about birds of prey attempting to grab small animals.

I love stuff like that.

Well, not the swooping down and getting Pugs part, but the owl part.  You understand. :)

Going to attempt rearranging the living room when I get up from my rest.  Or put books on the new shelf Gary made for me at the shop---something creative and productive at the same time. And then after dinner, hoping to talk Gary into taking me to church to arrange the flowers for the altar.  Thinking a coffee or something would qualify it for a mini date.  Thinking that way.  We'll see how that flies.

And just enjoying the day.  Oldest daughter took me out to lunch, and we got the flowers at Fresh Market, then came back.  Refreshment to get out for a change of scenery.  As they say, "A change is as good as a rest."

What with having chicken time with breakfast outside this morning before it rained, it's been a pretty peachy day.

Friday night

Am going through a bit of a hermit phase.  Turned off comments, mainly because I tend to hole up at times.  I do love responses to what I write, but often depend too much on the verbal pat-on-the-back, and want to get away from that.  And often, I feel more freedom writing when I'm not expecting much in return, if that even makes sense.

I was going over my Facebook account earlier tonight, scratching my head over their new privacy rules, and reading old stuff, because you can go into the archives and see old comments.  Saw quite a few from me to Patricia (who died last year) and that made me feel all sepia-toned. And noticed I used to talk much more online than I do now.  I was real chatty.  I seem so sober now.  What's up with that?

I must need a kick in my happy pants.  Maybe being a hermit isn't what I really need.  But perhaps realization is half the battle.

At a snail's pace

If someone had informed me ahead of time about the issue of extreme fatigue after food poisoning, I'd not have signed up.  My goodness.  From what I've read online, this is normal, but it doesn't make it any easier.

So I wake up with grand notions of what I want to get done, then put that list away and putter along.  Most things aren't getting accomplished, and I guess the important stuff is.  Like eating.  I am still fixing dinner.  And oddly enough, Gary and I have been able to eat throughout this whole mess. Dusting isn't important, and neither is getting the front flower beds cleaned out.  Sorta pokey around these parts.  I think the kids are a bit startled at seeing me bumble along, looking tired and worn.  I just never knew the healing part would be like this. Never really paid attention to anyone I've known who's had food poisoning, figuring they threw up a lot, went to the bathroom a lot and then 'bingo' they were healed.  Well, I was wrong.

Plod, plod, plod.  Lots of time spent thinking about stuff. Guess sometimes that's a good thing.

Now go wash your hands.

Grace

I have a brother-in-law (a younger brother to my husband) who has said before that if you regularly tithe, then your money will always be sufficient.  I beg to disagree.  If that was so, then God would be, pretty much, a slot machine, and I'd be slipping in coins on a regular basis.  Well, we do tithe, but at the same time, often come up short in the bill-paying category.  Sometimes God's blessings aren't monetary.

For your information, this is the same brother-in-law who used to say that you only have to pay the bills that stick to the ceiling when you throw them up in the air.  Two strikes!

I say all that nonsense to say this:  Gary's got work in the shop now, and his phone is ringing almost daily. This after a long, long spell of silence.  A period of very few phone calls and little work in the shop. Dark times.  Crying out to God times.  Pulling out your hair and wondering what the heck is going on times.

Now, seemingly all of a sudden, work is a positive word.  An active word.  A possibility.  And you know what?  We've done nothing to deserve it.  Haven't been more faithful, or giving.  We've had no tricks up our sleeves.  And that's all good, because if we could put our finger on what exactly happened to turn the tide, we'd put a bookmark on it.  We'd take notes and tell all our friends.  We'd make a fortune about how we know how to tap God's power.

But we don't.

It's all Grace.  We did nothing but hang in there.  We prayed, yes, and cried.  Grew more gray and lined. But we didn't have to do tricks or dot all our i's.  We only had to wait for God's timing.  I still don't understand it and truly tremble at how things follow through.  I want this magical time to stay with us, but it might not.  Self-employment is scary even in the best of times, because things can turn in a moment.

Thankful for the work.  Thankful that the designers and homeowners who have called are able to afford the business. I'm grateful for all of us.

Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.

Morning tea with the chickens

~piglet

~milk

~madelyn

I had tea, and they ate cracked corn, but kept eyeing my tea tray.  They wanted my bowl of oatmeal, and weren't shy about it.  I do love mornings out in the backyard, though, with the chickens doing their chickeny thing and I can sit and enjoy the quiet.  Always nice as long as it lasts.

~the illustrious henhouse

Joy

And sometimes life throws you a curve ball of such wonder that you just have to share.

Today something came by UPS that was a total surprise. Well, the person who sent it warned me something was heading my way, and hinted that she was likely more excited than I was (not so!), yet she didn't hint as to what was coming.

A laptop.  From Canada.  From Aneta who blogs over here.

Can you imagine?

I almost got sick when I realized what was in the box.  It was the pulling out the plastic with the cord in it. Realization hit.  It made my head hurt.  The shock, most likely.  I sat there, the kids smiled silly-like, I read her card, I cried, middle daughter couldn't watch me cry so she left the room. All true.

I continue to be awed by God's love for me, through others.  Totally amazing.

Thanks again, Aneta, for the love you sent.  Awesome for sure, and I never use that word. :)

Artsy stuff

Feeling more human today, which is pure relief. Sitting here in the dusty living room, thinking of re-arranging the furniture, which is likely a sign of good health.

Yesterday I let the girls gesso over a canvas of mine, covering up a painting I'd done at one of those painting parties that are all the rage. I never did like my piece, so now it'll be put to good use.

The three youngest are compiling bits and pieces...pictures, stickers, feathers, leaves, even nail polish and such to make a collage-sort of picture. I put a cardboard box on the coffee table for them to fill with their findings. On Friday they'll put it together. Fortunately the three youngest work really well together. We did the same last week on a smaller scale, and if I do say so myself, it's stunning!

Must go now. Time to get it in gear.

Food for thought

As I was saying good night to the kids last night, fourth son called me back into the boys' room and asked if I'd heard about the salmon*ella outbreak.  I had.  He asked again what my symptoms had been the last week.  I told him.  He commented that they were the same as the folks who've complained of having the sickness reported by the media.  Then he asked what I'd eaten before I got so sick.  Chicken.

Well, I don't know if I've had food poisoning, but it is different from anything I've ever experienced.  I don't recommend it.  But odd if it's related to something we've eaten, because only Gary and I got sick, though this son says he felt mildly sick to his stomach last week.  I do know Gary and I sat down together and had chicken salad (homemade) the first of last week.  Everyone ate it.  Can't think of anything he and I did apart from the kids.

Not going to solve this one, and since I'm very careful about handling food in the kitchen, it might remain a mystery.

Think I'll wipe down the entire kitchen with bleach today.  Might set my mind at ease a bit.

Monday morning

Feeling better this morning, as is my main squeeze, so that's a blessing.  Nearly a week of this has been enough.  Time to get back in the swing of things, I reckon.  But slowly.

Will take the kids to the library today, as early as possible.  City school kids are out this week for Fall Break, so we'll plan our outings accordingly.  Since we try as much as we can to emulate their outward routine, flying under the radar as much as possible, there's less concern in being out there.

And trying to figure out what to have for dinner with my two chickens coming back from Texas today. Whenever I've traveled, I always yearn for a home-cooked meal as soon as possible.  Hot food, things you're used to, and a familiar bed---all relished when you return.

Now time for tea.

Sunday afternoon

Having the urge to simplify a bit (note blog is a little less noisy-looking).  With still feeling under-the-weather with this stomach thing, I've had plenty of time to just think on stuff.  Watch the dust form on the furniture. See the ever-growing trail of glitter run from the girls' rooms to the rest of the house.  Stand amazed at the pile of unfolded laundry.  Roll my eyes at the collection of books I own that just grows as fast as the clutter builds.

What I really need is one good energetic day when I feel up to doing a mass clean-out.

Not happening any time soon, I don't think.

But an odd thing.  I talked to our second son late this afternoon.  He and oldest daughter have been out-of-town, with him being at a mission's conference and her enjoying a nearby mall and plenty of quiet time. Good for both of them.  Well anyway, after he and I finished our conversation, I hung up and cried.  Not sure what that was all about, but maybe partly relief that their trip is drawing to a close and they'll be coming home tomorrow.  Or maybe I'm just weary of being sick.

For whatever reason, for me at least, being ill tends to give me a different viewpoint on life.  A lighter touch, maybe.  Perhaps an ability to not (at least this week) look at my worries so directly in the face.

It'll be a slow week, but I trust one that is a refreshment for me as well.

'God in My Everything' by Ken Shigematsu

Because of my love for everything related to contemplative prayer, and Benedictine-related topics, I was drawn to the title of Ken Shigematsu's book God in My Everything:  How an Ancient Rhythm Helps Busy People Enjoy God.  I tripped up, however, when I realized how truly busy a person's life would be after implementing his ideas.  It sort of exhausted me.

While I agree with his emphasis on balancing work with family life, I tend to get tired of folks needing to be told how to act, when it should be clear.  He tells of a situation when he had a six week old infant son at home.  He was committed to a Christian event which would place him out of town for a few days.  And yes, he could have cancelled.  In that time, he was hoping his son would've learned to sleep during the night.  Of course, if that had been the case, his guilt at leaving would've been appeased, and he'd have been justified in keeping up his out-of-town schedule. As it happens, his son was a poor sleeper and his wife exhausted when he returned.  A conversation with his wife afterward spelled out how difficult this was for her, and the author changed how he managed travelling, postponing doing that for a year.

Why is it so hard for folks to be tuned into what the right behavior is in a given situation?   Why do they always have to be taught what should be clear?

I appreciate Mr. Shigematsu's goal in the book.  He shared how following the Rule of Benedict in the present-day can help a Christian achieve a sense of balance.  Care has to be taken, however, that the focus on following what's meant to be a godly goal isn't ultimately a god in itself.  Patting ourselves on the back for ticking off the boxes of our plan isn't the way to go.  When I've prayed a certain part of the day, talked with my kids, exercised, shared Christ with my neighbor, paid attention to my husband/wife, run a marathon, donated at the food bank, and asked forgiveness on a daily basis, I'm still a sinner plain and simple.

The premise of the book is a good one.  But rather than feeling refreshed and challenged at the end of it, I felt defeated.  Small bites.  Always a good idea.

(i received this book free to review from thomas nelson/booksneeze)

End of the week

Stomach virus.  Going from task to task, in a chair to chair fashion.  As soon as I think I can do something, I take a deep sigh and just park it.  Thankfully no throwing up with this thing, for which I'm very grateful---not to sound too informative, though.  Have lost 3 pounds, all good.  I remember years ago, our oldest daughter having a horrid case of the flu and losing 17 pounds.  Never gained it back.  

I feel a bit addled.  I think my brain is affected.  I keep thinking of things, only to forget what I had on my mind just seconds later. Gary's sick too, but is suffering slightly differently.  Like the movie 'Napoleon', he's just saying, "I don't feeeeeeell good."  Can't quite put a finger on it, but just feeling lowly.

Got my copy of The Way of a Pilgrim today, and will enjoy reading it later on, during nap-time.  It covers The Jesus Prayer (the mercy prayer) and the review book I'm into talks about a prayer method (for lack of another term) of St. Ignatius of Loyola called Examen, which I'd never heard of.  All of these sorts of things interest and fascinate me.

I'm used to, from my years of an evangelical, of extemporaeous prayer, and that's fine, but the richness of the prayers of the old church traditions have fed something in me that I didn't realize needed feeding.  There's something beautiful of the Anglican history that rings true to me.  And I find that odd, since that's not the way I was brought up, but relate to like you'd think it was something in my history.  Well, I guess it is if you want to travel to England to my ancestors hundreds of years ago, who followed that faith.  

Must go now.  Time to chill.  I have no energy.

A picture is worth a thousand words...

~nora wanting to go on the road

~madelyn and daisy (l to r)

~front porch

Mid-week

Too many irons in the fire.

Yesterday after I blogged here, I had to take fourth son to the dental school downtown to have a crown seated. No problem there, and out earlier than usual.  We planned to stop at the main branch of the library on the way home. Pulled in, found a parking place, and as I was turning into it, we heard a loud BOOM sound twice.  First thought was that I'd run over something that had blown both of her (borrowing oldest daughter's pick-up) right-side tires.  Couldn't find a problem, so while second son was standing outside the truck, I tried to back up.  BOOM again.  Something came loose and fell off, a suspension sort of thing.  Tire began to list inward (not as much as in photo---that happened when the tow truck guy had to pull it backward) and several things fell off---little bits.

Long story short.  Called Gary, called daughter, they came, called mechanic who ordered a tow truck.  Got it hauled in.  Daughter got the repair list, and it's bearable.  All's well that ends well.

I was exhausted when we got home.  Too much stress.  My insides felt every bit of that BOOM, instantly worrying about what the heck had happened, and powerless to do anything.  Feeling there's a spiritual metaphor tucked into that experience.

Got home, and a review book had arrived in the mail.  Always a treat, especially when they get here before I anticipate.  A small reward for a very busy day.

And tomorrow oldest daughter and second son drive out of state to a missions type conference (he's interested, she's just going along for the ride).  I'm not fretting, but it's one more thing to keep in mind.

Odd, but I don't always know something bothers me until I have physical issues related to worry.  My hands break out, my head will hurt, my stomach will do flip flops.  All boxes checked the past day or so.  Guess I'm a bit wound up, eh?

Anyway.  Got to keep my focus.  The Lord has it all under control.  I just have to do what I do in my own little world. :)

Tuesday morning

madelyn and me

I really do enjoy these chickens. When I'm able to beat the kids in getting up, mainly the least one, I enjoy sitting out back and just watching them.  They're so restful.....well, until Anastasia or Piglet get rowdy. Sometimes when I stay in bed a few more minutes, after Gary's left to take fourth son to work, I get interrupted by the bok-bok-buh-CAH noise, that signals either that someone has laid an egg and they're proclaiming it to the world, or more likely, both nesting boxes are booked up and one of our Black Stars is antsy to lay. Anastasia and Piglet are famous for being very, very noisy.

Never a dull day 'round these parts.

When this happens, I grab my shoes real quick, go outside and just pick up the screamer.  Then we sit for a minute, me talking all baby-talk and whoever's in my lap will cock her head (while I keep my head back a bit to avoid her pecking at my necklace) and give me the eye. Yesterday I was holding Anastasia and Nora jumped up on my lap.  Sort of a blissful moment as long as it lasts.  Chickens are busy creatures, so the moment is usually brief.

Years ago I read Josephine Moffet Benton's book called The Pace of a Hen. Very glad to have my own copy. I really liked the book (about women at home) but look at it a tad differently now.  Wonder if Mrs. Benton kept chickens.  She talks about a woman's pace being slow and round-about because of so many tasks needing to be accomplished in a given day, leaving little room for advancement. A sometimes frustrating situation.  Now in my brief experience of chicken-keeping, they're not lazy AT ALL.  They move constantly, pecking the ground for almost the entirety of a sunny day.  They do rest, but only briefly.  They enjoy a sunbath during the afternoon, but are so high-strung that rest doesn't usually come until they roost at night in their coop.  I'd compare them more to honeybees or ants, than anything slow and plodding.

Just my thoughts.

{and have lost egg count---mostly four/day and that's just dandy!}