It’s been a busy week, as usual. Thanksgiving weekend is like the official dive into Christmas. It’s so nice on a special day to thank God for His provision and love. I was convicted this week of having a basically ungrateful attitude, and with Christ’s help, am determined to ‘count my blessings’ with thanksgiving daily.
We’ve had a lot of car troubles. Everything from accidentally shooting a window out, to accidentally putting gas in a diesel car! On the latter occasion, stranded a couple of hours from home, I was delegated to find some French fries and strong coffee to bring back to the people staying in the cold car. Tired and worried, I entered a little diner. It was about midnight, but there were a few stragglers still eating. After taking a look through the menu, I finally approached the counter and asked the price of French fries and coffee. Then I counted the change that I had brought from the car. Too expensive. So I told the lady, ‘just the French fries.’ Well, she didn’t know how to cancel an order, so she asked the manager for help. He listened to her story, canceled the coffee, and watched me finger over some quarters and dimes. ‘I was there myself,’ he said. ‘Scraping pennies.’ I just laughed a little, not quite sure what he was saying. He was kind-hearted, and whispered something to the cashier. ‘We’re gonna give you the coffee, anyways.’ she told me. I said I could get more money, but the manager would not hear of it. It confirmed my suspicion that goodness still exists in God’s world today!
Even hillbillies will share: someone gave Dad a deer leg on ice that he had in the back of his car. Dad chopped it up, and helped me bag it in the deep freeze. I made vegetable soup with it the other day, and am making venison steaks tomorrow. Maybe I’ll grill them. After I unwrapped the meat and put it in a pot to thaw overnight, I reached for the salt shaker, unscrewed it, and gave it a hearty dash. Someone had filled it with pepper! So our meat is soaking in pepper-water.
Tonight we decorated our tree with colored lights, wooden beads, popcorn strands, jeweled cherries, and silver bells. It’s kind of a tradition for us kids to sleep under the tree- but what a waste of comfy beds! The boys had the right idea: they carried their sheeted mattresses to the living room floor and bedded down. We have three girls on three couches surrounding a floor filled with three boys and a girl on four mattresses. Someone said they feel hospitalized. Dad and Mom are going to laugh in the morning when they see us!
November 29, 2010
November 22, 2010
There is an atmosphere of peace in the home around Thanksgiving and Christmas-time. Everyone is happy to have supper together, the work day seems short, and long, dark evenings are filled with fun family time.
This has been an exciting Christmas already: we all packed into the car one evening and drove into town to do some shopping before the crowds on black Friday picked through the shelves. Once out of the car, we paired into couples and teams, and headed to the first store. Jesse and I browsed around just enough to be seen by most of the family, and then slipped outside and hurried to different neighboring stores. We were looking at an item, and thinking about buying it, when the intended receiver walked inside. Quickly, we ducked behind a rack of coats and watched. The person slowly approached and began inspecting the stuff. After a few artful dodges, Jesse and I entered the exit and landed back on the street. We had to go back later to get the item. Sorry that I had to be vague about the details, but this is Christmas, you know.
This year we are sending a group of soldiers boxes, kind of like shoe boxes for kids. We have 32, I think, and are going to fill the boxes on Thanksgiving with toothpaste, Scripture cards, letters, soap, movies, candy, cd’s, and other goodies. It reminds me of the time when our family spent a few months in Central America a few years ago. We were in Costa Rica for Thanksgiving. Our schedule was jam-packed with drama presentations in public schools, and with speaking and music presentations in churches, but in our spare time we missed the autumnal feel and smell of our woods, and dreamed of white Christmases. We had a paper snowflake making contest, and drew turkeys and pumpkins (we call them punkins) with crayons and taped them to the walls. We couldn’t find any turkey for Thanksgiving day, so we had chicken and rice and chocolate pudding. I don’t think we’ll ever forget it. We had lots to be thankful for! On Christmas we were at an orphanage in Guatemala. Few Christians celebrate Christmas there. On the Eve, the whole country erupts in fireworks. They call them ‘bombs’ with good reason; dangerous, exciting, U. S. legally-banned packages of gunpowder that are noticed and heard when they go off! A nice couple from our church had flown down in November to visit and help with our ministry. They left a secretive bundle with us that Mom zippered in a special suitcase that was not to be opened on any account. But Christmas morning Mom unzipped it, revealing a stuffed stocking for each of us with our names on them. What a memory! And how excited and loved we felt!
Well, I didn’t mean to write a ‘Best Christmas Memory’ for an electrical company.
This week has been busy with house-building, home schooling, cooking, cleaning, working, project-ing, and just plain funning and laughing, too. Reed and I discovered Cracking Contraptions with Wallace and Gromit, and have watched some while snacking on cheese and crackers. (It just seems fitting. J) I have been busily writing on the new and curious story that I may, someday, reveal to the world. Perhaps when it is further along, I shall put pieces and paragraphs on the Domestic Newsflash…..
A day seems to flurry by with so many things to do, and only when night comes and I am calm and read my Bible, do I remember all the wonderful habits that I was going to start. Such as, ‘Rejoice in the Lord always,’ or ‘Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom,’ or ‘Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him.’ It’s easy then for me to be discouraged. But I have to remember that I can rejoice in the Lord at that moment I was reminded, and read the word that it may dwell in me, as I give thanks to the Father. I am so happy that my family (generations back) made a tradition of being grateful to God! Psalm 92:1-2 ‘It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto thy name, O most High: to show forth thy lovingkindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every night.’
This has been an exciting Christmas already: we all packed into the car one evening and drove into town to do some shopping before the crowds on black Friday picked through the shelves. Once out of the car, we paired into couples and teams, and headed to the first store. Jesse and I browsed around just enough to be seen by most of the family, and then slipped outside and hurried to different neighboring stores. We were looking at an item, and thinking about buying it, when the intended receiver walked inside. Quickly, we ducked behind a rack of coats and watched. The person slowly approached and began inspecting the stuff. After a few artful dodges, Jesse and I entered the exit and landed back on the street. We had to go back later to get the item. Sorry that I had to be vague about the details, but this is Christmas, you know.
This year we are sending a group of soldiers boxes, kind of like shoe boxes for kids. We have 32, I think, and are going to fill the boxes on Thanksgiving with toothpaste, Scripture cards, letters, soap, movies, candy, cd’s, and other goodies. It reminds me of the time when our family spent a few months in Central America a few years ago. We were in Costa Rica for Thanksgiving. Our schedule was jam-packed with drama presentations in public schools, and with speaking and music presentations in churches, but in our spare time we missed the autumnal feel and smell of our woods, and dreamed of white Christmases. We had a paper snowflake making contest, and drew turkeys and pumpkins (we call them punkins) with crayons and taped them to the walls. We couldn’t find any turkey for Thanksgiving day, so we had chicken and rice and chocolate pudding. I don’t think we’ll ever forget it. We had lots to be thankful for! On Christmas we were at an orphanage in Guatemala. Few Christians celebrate Christmas there. On the Eve, the whole country erupts in fireworks. They call them ‘bombs’ with good reason; dangerous, exciting, U. S. legally-banned packages of gunpowder that are noticed and heard when they go off! A nice couple from our church had flown down in November to visit and help with our ministry. They left a secretive bundle with us that Mom zippered in a special suitcase that was not to be opened on any account. But Christmas morning Mom unzipped it, revealing a stuffed stocking for each of us with our names on them. What a memory! And how excited and loved we felt!
Well, I didn’t mean to write a ‘Best Christmas Memory’ for an electrical company.
This week has been busy with house-building, home schooling, cooking, cleaning, working, project-ing, and just plain funning and laughing, too. Reed and I discovered Cracking Contraptions with Wallace and Gromit, and have watched some while snacking on cheese and crackers. (It just seems fitting. J) I have been busily writing on the new and curious story that I may, someday, reveal to the world. Perhaps when it is further along, I shall put pieces and paragraphs on the Domestic Newsflash…..
A day seems to flurry by with so many things to do, and only when night comes and I am calm and read my Bible, do I remember all the wonderful habits that I was going to start. Such as, ‘Rejoice in the Lord always,’ or ‘Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom,’ or ‘Whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him.’ It’s easy then for me to be discouraged. But I have to remember that I can rejoice in the Lord at that moment I was reminded, and read the word that it may dwell in me, as I give thanks to the Father. I am so happy that my family (generations back) made a tradition of being grateful to God! Psalm 92:1-2 ‘It is a good thing to give thanks unto the Lord, and to sing praises unto thy name, O most High: to show forth thy lovingkindness in the morning, and thy faithfulness every night.’
November 14, 2010
“The best kind of prize is a SUR-prise!”- Willie Wonka
In a home of observant , festive, and sneaky people the most impossible thing is to keep a surprise. Now, a secret is a different thing. There’s nothing better for stubborn silence than eight other people watching you and keeping one accountable.
This week was rather warm for November, and it held a date of importance: a birthday. The men-folk’s job was to begin a new spec house, and they did it wondrously well. They dug and poured and dried and measured and tarred. The ladies’ job was simpler. Keep the house going, and plan a surprise party. I wish it could be stated here that the ladies showed equal competence as the men-folk.
We tried hard. Honest.
The house was kept going. It was actually and relatively quiet week of household work and chores. We were struck with the Christmas shopping mood, so we made a few trips into town and scoured the shelves with a little luck. Now there are secret, forbidden places that are not to be looked in or smelled. They contain precious, guarded, highly anticipated presents. Other exciting domestic thing happened, too; and though they may seem trivial to some, they are monumental to a housekeeper. Such as: the kitchen acquired a new knife! A real sturdy, heavy blade that looks like a hatchet. It is useful for cutting carrots, celery, raw chicken, etc. And there was an unofficial record-breaker of two beds remaining un-made for three whole days in the same bedroom! Also, Monday’s laundry didn’t seem so bad, and as every laundress knows, that is unusual! Most significantly, for a writer, a brand new story has been begun! And we like it very much.
A part was planned. We stored extra bacon, bread, chips, and such in a natural manner. And almost everything was ready when the time came.
But it wasn’t very surprising, I’m afraid. Our nonchalance was forced, but ‘smoother than oil’ on the day. Little problems kept popping up in unexpected places that were quite difficult to camouflage. Such as: she’s in the house, so how can we decorate with balloons? This was the solution: we asked her to help. My heart really did stop for a frightful moment when someone laughingly said, ‘What are you doing decorating for your own party?’ That was hard to camouflage. As a matter of fact, we gave it up and had to tell her the truth, which was easily guessed anyway. Then things went better. She could greet the guests while we were bringing down chairs and icing-ing a cake.
And it went off well.
I foresee a week that may feel a little dull, for (in the words of Anne Shirley,) ‘I do not see how anyone could return to common life after this.’
This week was rather warm for November, and it held a date of importance: a birthday. The men-folk’s job was to begin a new spec house, and they did it wondrously well. They dug and poured and dried and measured and tarred. The ladies’ job was simpler. Keep the house going, and plan a surprise party. I wish it could be stated here that the ladies showed equal competence as the men-folk.
We tried hard. Honest.
The house was kept going. It was actually and relatively quiet week of household work and chores. We were struck with the Christmas shopping mood, so we made a few trips into town and scoured the shelves with a little luck. Now there are secret, forbidden places that are not to be looked in or smelled. They contain precious, guarded, highly anticipated presents. Other exciting domestic thing happened, too; and though they may seem trivial to some, they are monumental to a housekeeper. Such as: the kitchen acquired a new knife! A real sturdy, heavy blade that looks like a hatchet. It is useful for cutting carrots, celery, raw chicken, etc. And there was an unofficial record-breaker of two beds remaining un-made for three whole days in the same bedroom! Also, Monday’s laundry didn’t seem so bad, and as every laundress knows, that is unusual! Most significantly, for a writer, a brand new story has been begun! And we like it very much.
A part was planned. We stored extra bacon, bread, chips, and such in a natural manner. And almost everything was ready when the time came.
But it wasn’t very surprising, I’m afraid. Our nonchalance was forced, but ‘smoother than oil’ on the day. Little problems kept popping up in unexpected places that were quite difficult to camouflage. Such as: she’s in the house, so how can we decorate with balloons? This was the solution: we asked her to help. My heart really did stop for a frightful moment when someone laughingly said, ‘What are you doing decorating for your own party?’ That was hard to camouflage. As a matter of fact, we gave it up and had to tell her the truth, which was easily guessed anyway. Then things went better. She could greet the guests while we were bringing down chairs and icing-ing a cake.
And it went off well.
I foresee a week that may feel a little dull, for (in the words of Anne Shirley,) ‘I do not see how anyone could return to common life after this.’
November 9, 2010
A Bit of Poetry:
Standing on the brink
Of Earth’s salt-briny sink,
And smelling of the wind
That foreign places send,
With seagulls crying high
Over the sea-tides sigh,
I’m standing on the sand-
The crusty edge of land-
And let the tide-wave’s part
Carve patterns in my heart.
When I am long back home
And when my fancies roam,
They hurry to the sea
Who’s roaring power calls to me
To come and be again
Among the waves and wind,
To gaze beyond the sky
Where Heaven calls me nigh.
Of Earth’s salt-briny sink,
And smelling of the wind
That foreign places send,
With seagulls crying high
Over the sea-tides sigh,
I’m standing on the sand-
The crusty edge of land-
And let the tide-wave’s part
Carve patterns in my heart.
When I am long back home
And when my fancies roam,
They hurry to the sea
Who’s roaring power calls to me
To come and be again
Among the waves and wind,
To gaze beyond the sky
Where Heaven calls me nigh.
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