Long ago, July 20, 2009, in a post titled "Sarah Plain and Long" (and often confused with my views on S*arah P*alin) I promised that I would share if these two gals ever learned to get along. They didn't. It's mayhem and bedlam here most days. I'm always grateful when they settle down with some reading material.
My aunt once had a visitor exclaim over a collection, "Oh! You collect cows!"
"No," my aunt replied, "My sister-in-law just thinks that I do."
Berry Apron with Blueberries and Blueberry Scented Candles
That's pretty much how it is with me. My mother (my aunt's sister-in-law) thinks that I collect blueberries. My sister does, too. So I have quite a few blueberry-related items about.
Now I am not denying that I love blueberries, especially wild Maine ones. If you've never eaten a wild blueberry, you are definitely missing out. Not wanting you to miss out, I'll let you know before this post is over what you can do about it. Heck, I even missed out this season and I live here!
Blueberry Bean Pot
I've never used the blueberry bean pot. Seems like a lot of mixed metaphors there. Anyway, its home is on the second shelf of the telephone table and there I keep it very well. Talk about mixed metaphors! Beans, berries, and now pumpkins?
So this is the message of the day: If you don't have access to wild blueberry fields, you can go to your local grocery and get some of these...
Yes, I really do. Will you keep reading if I promise that this will not be my usual whine?
When life is circling the drain or feels as if it is, it's so easy to focus on the drain. We all know the story of the storm coming up while the Lord slept and the disciples worried. I'm one of those worrying disciples. And we all know the story of the Lord walking on the water when Peter had the faith to join Him and Peter walked on the water as well — for a minute or two. He got in big trouble fast when he started looking at the drain. That's not in the Word for nothing now is it?
A few days ago, my mother brought Nan a bouquet of wonderful flowers from my sister's garden. Included were a lot of colorful daylilies. As my grandmother sat at the breakfast table yesterday morning, she noted that some of the flower combinations were unlike anything she would ever put together. We had fun looking at them with fresh eyes and imagining God at the workbench of Heaven designing them.
Then we decided to paint following a formula/guideline that A Woman Who Is shared in a post titled "I'm Still Here." Neither Nan or I are artists, but we had fun.
Now this is the thing about withering and I learned it some time ago from Karen who always reaches out in times of stress. Withering and circling the drain is NOT for me. So, I am going to reach a bit further in a couple of ways. First, I'm going to add any blog to my blogroll if you have been reading and commenting here. (This was first learned from Kim at Daisy Cottage.) All you have to do is email me and let me know that you'd like your blog to be included. Please also include the link to your blog. (I'll be letting some go, too. It becomes obvious after a while when bloggers have moved on. I understand. If I "let you go" and you want to be back, just let me know as well.) Now this could take some time, but I'll get there eventually.
This morning, directly after posting, I'll add my followers to this page. And I'm going to visit each and every one and thank him or her and become a follower there, too. Copying Penny with this one. Edited to Add: Okay, I'm three minutes in or so and I already have concerns. Guess that we'll amend this to read "like-minded" blogs. ;>
These things will be a great way for me to get my eyes off that drain!
Recently, Suzanne (At Home With The Farmer's Wife) suggested that folks could get a postcard from her by just letting her know that one was desired. Cool deal. Mine came a few days ago and gave me the opportunity to send her one in return. John mailed it for me while we were having our day away. Hope that it got that quintessential postmark. I forgot to have him request one. I'm not as rich as Suzanne, but I've got one spare postcard waiting to go somewhere. If you want it, all you have to do is be the first to say so. :D
I should have called this post "Nan's Story" or the "Hospice Story." I'm unwilling to get into details because I don't want to rock the boat as it were. Suffice it to say, M*edicare has very specific guidelines and when an agency is billing M*edicare it must, of course, be careful and above board and follow all directives. Hospice wanted to change some of my grandmother's care and we didn't want it changed. Hence the letting of hospice go. Pretty simple except that it has involved a lot including now paying for the hospital bed and letting the nice little hospital bed table that went with it go. I have just been fighting to keep the mattress. The "bed lady" said, "She doesn't have problems." I said, "Look, Bed Lady, I don't know where you get these ideas because she has every problem in the book. I'll get in touch with her doctor and get it straightened out." If he can't, I'll be finding someone who can! I'm feeling quite irritable and cranky these days.
Nan returned to me weaker than when she left. It's sad to see the ongoing decline. Now I know what my mother means when she says that every time she sees her mother she looks worse than the time before. I used to take that as a comment about my care. It's not. It is what is is...
Okay, back to Suzanne. Honestly, if you need some levity in your life, you must read this blog. Sometimes I howl with laughter. Here's a case in point: Brew for Breakfast. You'll love it!
Although it lasted a few short hours, it was wonderful to get away. Beautiful sea. Beautiful sky.
The inscription under the lobsterman statue is this:
Thank you for looking at my mosaics!
Thanks to Mary at Little Red House for hosting this fun weekly event. Have you tried your hand at a mosaic yet? Mary gives all the information you need on her sidebar and it really is a lot of fun. Come join us!
(photos will enlarge even more when clicked upon...click once to open in a new window and again to see at the largest size...)
Just the time I feel that I've been caught in the mire of self. Just the time I feel my mind's been bought by worldly wealth.
That's when the breeze begins to blow I know, the Spirit's Call. And all my worldly wanderings just melt into His Love.
Oh, I want to know You more! Deep within my soul I want to know You, Oh, I want to know You. To feel Your Heart and know Your Mind, looking in Your eyes stirs up within me, cries that say I want to know You Oh, I want to know You more. Oh, I want to know You more.
When my daily deeds ordinarily lose life and song, my heart begins to bleed, sensitivity to Him is gone. I've run the race but set my own pace and face a shattered soul, Now the Gentle Arms of Jesus warm my hunger to be whole.
Oh, I want to know You more! Deep within my soul I want to know You, Oh, I want to know You. And I would give my final breath to know You in Your Death and Ressurrection, Oh, I want to know You more. Oh, I want to know You more.
Not wanting you to worry a second longer, I thought I'd better tell John's story.
He told me right away as he arrived dripping, his arm up in the air, and his face gone a bit ashen that he was always told to keep his ar*se behind him when working on any project. He didn't. He decided to hack a small green twig from a bush with his jackknife. Somehow he lost his footing (I'm sure that it was easy to do since he was not following orders and was at an angle.)
At first, he was quite convinced that we could just pull the whole forearm (left) back together. I didn't think so. The wound was bleeding a lot and was quite long and deep. We got it cleaned and wrapped up the best we could, stuck his arm in a plastic bag, and headed for the ER. Have I mentioned how queasy I get when other people are hurt?
The ER did a great job of seeing him quickly the first time around. They bandaged him up and the triage nurse said it looked like inner and outer stitches to her. Then we sat around in the waiting room visiting with other nice folks for two hours until I, observing that John was deep in conversation with another gentleman about the state of current affairs and was unaware that he'd begun to drip on the furniture, went back to the "welcome window" and suggested that they might like to see him now.
After all was said and done, John has six staples that look as if he attacked himself with his own staple gun. No antibiotics, no pain meds, no nothing but "see you in two weeks." I've often called John "numb clean to his elbows" to which he responds, "Is that a nice thing to say to a nice man like me?
Though after he answered the question about pain level...you know the one...on a scale between one and ten, what's your pain level...and he had responded with a "1," I'm pretty convinced that he may actually be numb to his elbows after all. They should have asked me what my pain level was. I'd have said "about an 8." Pounding headache, serious back pain, and great anxiety...
So he's fine. Really. He's just fine. Wants to get right back to ripping and tearing and doing what he loves best. Thanks for your prayers because I'm pretty sure that those staples need to come out before the two weeks is up.
This was it—our one day away in a year. It was a beautiful day, too. The clouds were as amazing as the views. (This reminds me of a friend who took nothing but cloud photos while in Rome...ha!)
No, no, I have more photos and I will post some the next time I get a chance.
(As for the computer, the modem was fried from a transformer blowing a couple of weeks ago.)
Nan is coming home tomorrow from a two-week stay in respite care. I want two weeks in respite care myself, I'm thinking. (Bet John would like that, too.) We've been terribly busy and John hurt himself, and I've lost Hospice care for Nan so there's a lot going on to talk about over the next few days if I find some time.
Am in fond hopes of visiting you, too. I've missed you.
Hebrews 13:16 is such an interesting verse. One can pick it apart or take it on face value. Depending upon which version of the Bible one uses, the meaning can shift a bit.
Today, I want to chat about the King James version because of the word "communication." In other versions, that word often shows up as "share."
But to do good and to communicate forget not: for with such sacrifices God is well pleased. KJV
Ever forget to communicate? I do. All the time. I know. You're shocked. Truth is, communication is one of the first things to go when I'm feeling stressed or tired. I just clam up. Case closed. The end. So I appreciate the King James version if I take it on "face value" (without studying the etymology of the word "communicate") and am reminded not to forget to talk, share, encourage, and communicate. I'm also glad that God knows that it is a "sacrifice" because that's just how I feel about it in times of weariness of body and soul. Let's not forget, too, that even the touch of a hand is communication.
I only have one chalkboard and I've been trying to decide its next message: Communicate, Share or perhaps "Be Sweet" will cover it all.
Welcome! It surely has been hot in my corner. How's it been in yours?
We love to enjoy ice cream sodas on the deck and I've been tiring of the root beer variety. You may note that we use "diet" soda. Yes, because we've got to do something to cancel out all those ice cream calories. Otherwise, we'll be prime candidates for this unfortunate Ice Cream Shop name.
Enjoy your cyber tour, and I do hope that you have an ice cream soda in hand!
Curious whether I made it out of the sewing room by noon? No, I did not, but I did move on to other things to include Nan's Nook, the office, and some of the basement.
This is not my craft room, but I thought you might like to see an amazing one at Triple the Scraps in case you were hoping to see mine today.
At least the space is clean enough for me to get my hands on projects that have been piling up. This is a mail caddy idea that I saw somewhere in my blog hopping travels. Unfortunately, I can not remember where. If anyone knows, please tell me so that I can give credit where credit is due. Again, this is not my idea.
As you can see in the before picture, I had already begun doing "something" to my formerly plain wooden caddy. I decided not to get all fussy and just go ahead with the idea as I remembered it.
And here it is all finished or as finished as I plan to do it.
I used the Edwardian Script font as it is so like my own writing... ;)
Speaking of "outgoing" we are outgoing to supper tonight. Yay!
Create a wonderful day for yourself and your family...
Instead of seashells, I used old bits of broken jewelry. Everything, including the clasp to close the bracelet, is vintage with the exception of the grosgrain ribbon. Hope that my niece will like it. She's a titch quirky like her aunt. ;>
These are the vintage Christmas tree ornaments that my mother recently gave me. She must have carefully divided her collection between my sister and me because I notice there are missing items.
Specifically, the teapot and the bugle are missing as are an old paper Santa and some angels. This is not a problem; I am just terribly observant some of the time.
These ornaments hung on my great-grandparents' Christmas tree back in Moncton, New Brunswick, Canada. The tree that went up on Christmas eve and down on Christmas night. Gheesh. All that work for a mere twenty-four hours.
Yesterday evening, I told my mother that even if she were to give me rubies, emeralds, and diamonds, nothing would mean more to me than these faded, paint-peeling ornaments. I also told her that even if she were to give me rubies, emeralds, and diamonds that my house can't take any more so please stop.
Still working on the sewing room. I hate two-day cleaning efforts in one room. It just goes to show the amount of sorting, etc., that needed doing.
Whatever task you're up to, hope that it goes very well!
No sunshine for two days, which is not a problem because we've needed the rain, that is until taking photos. Sorry about all the shadows and darkness. And looking at all these flowers, etc., I'm seeing the room with new eyes. I'm sure that my hubby would appreciate a less feminine room. New paint would be great, too!
We have some time to ourselves, John and I. My time will be used to clean, clean, clean. There are those who believe that cleaning is a time waster in my situation; I've heard from them. ;D What they may not realize is how close to the edge I get when things are out of order. So putting things back in order is very therapeutic for me. The bedroom came first. Next I'm tackling the sewing room.
And John has wanted/needed time to himself for his own projects at the Ponderosa. He has been quite strapped here helping me with Nan so I know that he'll find this time therapeutic as well.
There's a big part of me that would like to get in the car and get out of town. In moments like this, I remember Ryan Gosling's song "Put Me in the Car." (If you'd like to listen, stop my playlist at the bottom of the page by clicking on the double bars.)
Put Me in the Car
Shadows are my friends And the light hits my face And hides behind the clouds And its institute of grace And our children warm their beds With dreams of growing old But deception has run rampant And their futures have been mistold
Chorus: Just put me in the car And drive so far Until I'm free again And whisper in my ear That all these years I've been dreaming And then kiss me goodnight And it'll be all right It'll be all right It'll be all right It'll be all that I have ever asked of you
Darkness thinks I'm pretty And the rain covers my soul But the women think I'm ugly They care not for hearts of gold And freedom teaches nothing If only to create Lately innocence is jaded Only preachers hate
Chorus: Just put me in the car And drive so far Until I'm free again And whisper in my ear That all these years I've been dreaming Then kiss me goodnight And it'll be all right It'll be all right It'll be all right It'll be all that I have ever asked of you
Just put me in the car And drive so far Until I'm free again
Then kiss me goodnight And it'll be all right It'll be all right It'll be all right It'll be all that I ever asked of you
Gals, I've discovered that one of the secrets to a happy marriage is finding a man whose philosophy is "me fix; you like." Not sure how much longer this'll last so I'm working it. Wish that Blogger had the same philosophy.
Some of you really do pay attention. Yes, we've passed another anniversary, but we've not celebrated yet. Looking forward to it, too.
Welcome to Mosaic Monday...nah, I'm just taking the lazy gal's way out by dropping in a lot of photos (yes, some are duplicates) like this. We had planned to make a trek to the ocean with Nan who loves it so, but she was never able to remember our plans. It was touch and go for a bit this morning, though she eventually decided to grab her opportunity. Yay for my mother, sister and I who were delighted to enjoy the much cooler temps of the oceanside. Nan didn't seem to mind a bit as she wore a hat and covered up with a blanket. (The temps have been hovering right around 100° F.)
This could be nearly any ocean spot along New England's coastline. I'll leave you to wonder...
I have a couple more busy days in my schedule, but Saturday's looking good for stopping by your place so slap the iced tea together because I'll be there to see what you're doing!
This is a post about writing a certain kind of blog. Specifically, the kind of blog I write. The kind of blog where a lot about family and life is shared. I talk a lot...too much I've been thinking as I reconsider what direction this blog will take in the future or, for that matter, if it will take any direction at all. On the other side of the coin, I don't talk about many, many things.
Perhaps it is for that reason — the fact that I am so acutely aware of all that I am not saying, all that I won't say, that I forget how much I am discussing. What I do share is enough for some readers to feel as if they know me. And, in fact, I believe that there are those who know me very well indeed. At least to the extent that I allow others to see who I am. To toss another cog into the wheel, I lie a great deal; I call it "poetic license," but the fact of the matter is that unless you know me in "real life," you'd not have a clue what I am lying about. On the other hand, unless one knows the sound of the voice, the subtle expressions that flit across the face, the heart, the mind...well, how well do we really know one another after all?
This goes back decades with me. As a child, I would sometimes ask my mother who I was and she would describe who I was in terms of the place I held in my family. Thankfully, I found my ultimate answer at the age of ten when I discovered myself to be a child of the King, if I wanted to be. I wanted to be and haven't changed my mind since. My entire life is based upon it.
Others have talked about the whos and whats more eloquently and cogently than I. Suzanne discussed it recently on a post titled Anonymity or Not. And I so well remember a beautiful post that Terri at Windlost wrote on this topic. I wish that I could find it again.
What are your thoughts? Oh, and do check out the comments at Suzanne's post. Commenters are always so astute.
Back to regular Blogdom next time...whatever that may be. ;>
A cool Tuesday to you!
Edited to Add: Linds has written so well about this topic today. We must be running on the same track. Her post is titled Different Windows.
We're just relaxing today...no work of any consequence. Both John and I needed a break. In answer to the lawnmower cupcake question... You can see that I made exactly two lawnmower cupcakes before I turned the cupcakes into flowers-in-the-garden cupcakes. You can see some sweet cupcake/cake ideas right here at Birdie's Little Secrets (or Little Birdie Secrets if one isn't dyslexic), which is where I found this idea. Further, you can see what the lawnmower cupcakes should really look like.
I hope that everyone who celebrates the 4th of July Independence Day had a wonderful day. (Most of my family are off to see the fireworks.)
Please forgive me for not labeling as I usually do. Just consider this a typical American cookout with family and friends, good food, and games. I know that it repeated itself across the country. Sam, my four-year-old grandson thanked me as he left saying, "This has been a very special day." And so it was.
As always, comments are off for Mary's Mosaic Monday. Hope that you enjoy all the wonderful mosiacs!
We are hosting the family's 4th of July celebration. I love to host. It's a challenge with Nan not feeling so very well, but it's much easier for her to be home. As I've explained to her, we are not going to allow old age and infirmity to dictate whether we gather together. Period. The family is helping, of course. That's what families do.
Both John and I have been quite busy. If hosting, I wanted the steps to be painted...both sets front and side. We've been "spoken to" about our lack of a house number so John set about fixing that.
There! A house number and soon another larger one will be on the garage. This was a set that my sister purchased while she was here. Lucky for me, her house number doesn't match mine so I inherited.
I love astilbes. A lighter pink one hasn't yet bloomed and you can be assured that when it does, I'll be showing it.
This was my best deal of the past few days. I love having a tablecloth for the umbrella table. This one is a fabric, not vinyl, and the best part was that it was on sale for $2 at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. They had lots more and lots of variety. The cashier asked, "You understand that this has a hole in the center? Lots of people bring these back when they realize that." LOL!
Gotta have some bubbly at our party.
Just liked the "new" light on the fence this morning. Made the lobster buoys pop.
I made a teepee for the grands.
I apologize for being a bit ditzy about color coordination. It's not my strong suit. :D Now, I've got to get busy baking lawnmower cupcakes and tossing together a killer potato salad.
Hope that all your preparations are going very well! How are they going?