Saturday Morning

The dripping of the rain onto the porch railing and the copper roof of the birdfeeder.  The quiet stillness, rich in its peace without the Duke moving about on the back porch.  The playfulness of Pete the Cat as he enjoys the back porch, dog-free, and chases bugs, geckos, or nothing at all.  He pretends he’s smelling the flowers in my hanging basket but I know he’s scouting for my birds, and I will not allow him to get one.  He gives me the longing look with those green eyes, and I stare him down.  I love Pete, and I know he’s just acting on instinct, but I so enjoy the variety of birds we have in our back yard that I won’t give Pete the chance to act on that instinct.  The birds aren’t quite as confident about that.

It’s one of the rare Saturday Mornings when I have no obligations that day, I can sleep until I wake naturally (goodness, I must have needed that 12 hours!!), and I can pray, write and read to my heart’s content.  Time will pass and I won’t even notice, so unusual for a person driven by the clock, by its every 5 minute increment on other days of the week.  My walk this morning was delightful – once I turned off our busy street, I found the same quiet stillness, the rich green of hopeful nature after a long rain and thunderstorm last night.  After last year’s drought, and the fires, we welcome every single drop, no matter how or when it comes. 

Once again I acknowledge the power of God Almighty, giver of every breath and producer of rain, wind, temperatures cold or hot, and all the scents that come with the elements of the weather.  It is amazing when I read in the Old Testament and find so much Truth about nature.  Long before our modern day scientists and technology, the Bible was declaring that the earth was round, that air has weight (which Galileo later proved), oceans and wind have currents (Matthew Maury’s studies revealed that), light travels, and planet Earth hangs in the universe supported by nothing – except the setup of that universe which God designed.  I marvel about the current archaeology discoveries which have confirmed events described in the Bible, many of which were thought impossible or just stories of the human mind.  Like the walls of Jericho which fell down flat on top of themselves, unlike other ancient cities’ ruins, or the existence of a people called the Hittites, talked about only in the Bible.  Even the creation of man out of dust is validated in this Book.  The 16 elements that make up the human body also make up the earth’s crust.  Time after time the Bible is proven to be true scientifically; even without faith, we don’t need to look to theories for how man and nature came to be.  The Truth is already recorded for us, put down thousands of years ago.  All we have to do is expose ourselves to it and believe.

The air is cool this morning; I am glad for the warmth of my sweats.  How shall I spend the rest of this day, this precious gift of time?  I am in regular touch with my children and grandchildren so I feel satisfied there.  My book is in the evaluation stage, both with the judges of the writing contest and with my newly found editor who just received the manuscript yesterday, so nothing to do there at the moment (finally!)  I have some transcription to do for my citizen journalist peers and for a friend at church, but that won’t take long.  I will spend a good chunk of this time in the best way I know – in communion with my Maker with prayer, reading His Word, writing in my prayer and praise journal, and listening for Him to speak.  For when His children come to Him He does speak.  Whether by His word, jumping off the page to touch some life circumstance, or by the word of a friend, or into my spirit where it lodges until I think it through or act upon it.  A mystery, but a grand one. 

Thank you, Father, for this gift of today.  Help me to spend it wisely.

Black Sheep Nativity

Lily, our almost 3 yr old granddaughter, likes to put on a show for her family from time to time.  So far it’s always been the same show, the biblical account of an angel visiting Mary to tell her she was going to give birth to God’s son, Joseph’s taking her to Bethlehem and the account of Jesus’ birth.  Her parents had informed us that if she said “put on a show” this is what she meant, rather than something to watch on TV.

We kept Lily this weekend and she did indeed want to put on her show for us.  We determined that performance time would be right before bedtime.  Grandpa was to be the narrator and I would help with props and sound.  As Director and Main Star, Lily took her roles very seriously.  She directed me to go upstairs and get the wooden cradle, baby, and a blanket for her costume.   When I came downstairs to put the cradle in place, she had just arranged a couch cushion on the floor which would be Mary’s bed and later also serve as donkey and manger.   She came over to have me arrange her robe and when she was satisfied walked over to the cushion and lay down.

Grandpa began, “Mary was sleeping.”   Mary shut her eyes tightly.  “An Angel visited Mary and told her that she was highly favored of God and had been chosen to give birth to God’s Son, that his name would be called Jesus.”  There was no movement, so Grandpa looked at me, and then said, “Mary woke up.”  Instantly Mary was awake and sitting up.  Grandpa continued, “Mary went to tell Joseph what had happened.”  Lily walked over to Grandpa and said, “You be Joseph.”  Joseph announced that he too had been visited by an angel, that he and Mary would be married, and that they were going to Bethlehem for the census.   End of Act I.

Act II began with Mary astride the donkey and the Narrator instructing her to ride more animatedly, which she did.  “Joseph and Mary made their way to Bethlehem, where they went to the inn to ask for a place to stay.”  Grandpa stage whispered to Lily, “the inn is over by the window”.  Mary moved to the window and Grandpa became the Innkeeper.  “I am so sorry but there is no room at the inn.  The best I can do is my stable, and you can have the cow’s hay for bedding.”   Mary walked back to the cushion, now a stable, and prepared a place to stay. 

Grandpa continued.  “Mary and Joseph went to the stable with all the animals.  And the baby was born and they named him Jesus as the angel had said.”  Mary went over to the cradle and picked up her baby doll.   “Mary was a very good mother, and she wrapped her baby in blankets carefully.”  Apparently this information was to be part of the show.   “That was the night a special star came out in the sky.”  Another stage whisper instructing her to look up at the ceiling fan light, and she dutifully gazed up at the “star”. 

“Over in the fields there were shepherds watching their sheep.”  Mary was informed that the fields were over by the door.  Then Grandpa had his brainstorm:  “Duke is out there with the shepherds.  Lily, wouldn’t Duke be a great sheep?”   Before the props manager could utter a sound, she let Duke in and after he sniffed around a little he actually lay down in the vicinity of the stable.    “And angels appeared to the shepherds telling of the good news, that this night a Savior was born.  The shepherds said let us follow the star and go see this thing that has happened.” 

And there was the little manger scene, complete with Mary in a long robe tending to her baby, a star shining overhead, and a 90 lb black “sheep” laying still by her side, looking perfectly composed, almost as if he knew exactly what he was doing.  Our very own Black Sheep Nativity.

The Best Christmas Ever

The house is quiet, but peacefully so.  Rooms are slowly returning to their usual arrangements.  The Christmas tree, decorations and china will be packed away in the coming days but for now they remain, visible reminders of last weekend when our house was full, our stomachs indulged and our hearts overflowing with love and gratitude to God.

I smile as I begin to corral from other rooms the toys and things that reside in the grandkids room.  There is the Lego tray Tyler used when he played postman.  That tray delivered custom designed Christmas cards to his parents, aunts and uncles, and his cousins – cousins who can’t yet read but who already understand family love and connection.  I spy some curly ribbon on a chair, leftover from one of Reagan’s birthday presents.  She enjoyed her Princess Pink-Pancake Birthday Brunch we had the morning after Christmas, and even let us set before her a 2^nd miniature birthday cake complete with lit candle so we could sing Happy Birthday to her again :)  Huddled together on the floor by the couch are Spot and Snoopy.  Lily loves all animals but especially dogs and along with her stuffed black lab they were carried around and loved on greatly while Lily was here.  Emily’s beloved Bambi rests on a shelf in the grandkids room, head down as if he misses the children.

Traces of Emily and Molly testify to their delightful week long stay at Grandpa and Grandma’s.  At 18 months one of Molly’s favorite toys was the basket of alphabet blocks.  I find the colorful blocks casually tossed in the doll-sized red wagon, grouped near the books on the grandkids room floor, or perched precariously on Madeline’s head.  The crib is still up; I’m not ready to put it away yet.  Lying inside it right where Molly left her is church doll, who slept with Molly every night.  Church doll looks a little cold, as she was immediately and efficiently stripped of her dress upon Molly’s arrival in bed the first night.  

The red Christmas tray with Emily’s careful arrangement is still in the grandkids room; I can’t bear to disturb it yet.  Emily loves the Nativity figures, and toward the end of her stay she asked if she could play with them.  She gathered the various wooden and ceramic figurines and grabbed a cloth yellow star ornament from the tree along with all nativity scene ornaments.  I watched as she carefully placed Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus in the manger.  She grouped the animals off to the side with the shepherd (“Grandma, his shepherd’s stick comes out!”), and put the wisemen on the other side of the manger, still in their worshipful poses.  She had several angels and they were arranged close to the manger, under the big yellow star which seemed to shine as brightly as the real one must have on that holy night so long ago.  As she worked she sang her own version of the Christmas story, telling of the baby’s birth, how the animals gathered around and how the angels sang.  Her child’s faith kept us ever mindful of Who we had all gathered to celebrate and what the Christmas season is all about (“Christmas is all about Jesus!”) 

 

The little blue wooden table their mother used when she was a girl is still sitting in the living room next to the tree, right where we placed it for Emily and Molly to have lunch their last day here.  The table has been cleared, but the chairs are pushed back expectantly as if waiting for the girls to come sit for their next meal.  This too I want to leave in place just a little bit longer.

Moving on to the kitchen, there is very little left of the feast.   Some savory slices of ham, a few delicious morsels of prime rib from the bones, a scant portion of Grandpa’s famous homemade au gratin potatoes.  None of it will go to waste, and these too remind me of what a wonderful time we had together.  I look around the dining room, remembering how beautifully Laura prepared the table, perfectly arranging the dishes and colored napkins in their gorgeous gold rings.  I remember the talk and laughter of our children and grandchildren, passing steaming dishes around the table and asking for seconds and thirds of the meat and potatoes while still leaving room for sweet potato pie or Grandma’s Christmas cookies or a piece of Laura’s birthday cake.   I can still see the little table, set at the foot of the dining table, where the oldest four grandchildren ate.  Smiling, happy faces are still clear in my memory, and the warmth and camaraderie can still be felt in that room.  The memories will still be sweet and fresh when I begin taking the Spode Christmas Tree china down and packing it away until next year.   I’ll think about how glad I am that Laura loves the pattern as much as I do because one day it will all belong to her :)

Now it is New Year’s Eve.  For me it’s no longer a time to go to parties and stay up past midnight; rather, it’s a time to sit quietly by the fire reflecting on how I’ve spent the time God gave me in 2011 and on all the things He has done for us, brought us through.  Time to count my many blessings and thank the Lord for His gifts of life and time, marveling again at the wonder of knowing that every moment of every day of my life has been laid out for me before I was born (Psalm. 139).  Best of all as a believer and Christ-follower of 37 years, no matter what the future holds I rest in the certainty my God is in control, unchanging and ever faithful, and I enjoy the freedom that can only come from being a humble servant of the living God.

It was indeed the best Christmas ever, and as I slowly let it go I’ll keep the memories and carry them into the New Year, full of hope and deep abiding joy.

The Girls are Back

Squeals of delight.  Arms outstretched wide as legs propel forward.  Eyes shining with anticipation.  And my granddaughters look that way too as we find each other at the airport!  Is there anything more wonderful than being greeted by the cutest toddler in the world who smiles as she lifts her arms to be picked up and says “Ga-ma”?!

Emily, Molly and their beautiful mother are here for the week.  The best Christmas gift ever, after Jesus Christ.  What will we do while they are here?  Well, we have to make a Target run of course – at least one – that’s a given.  And a visit to the Austin Children’s Museum is a must.  And have a visit from Aunt Lena, and Uncle Walter, and Aunt Tracy. 

But we won’t spend the entire time driving in the car or in busy-ness.  We’ll play a lot in the grandkids room – with Bambi, blocks, Noah and his animals, and lots and lots of books.  We’ll chase up and down the stairs a million times and laugh every time we get to the top.  We’ll make a gingerbread house, eat Grandma’s famous Christmas cookies, make some more cookies, play the piano, consider the presents under the tree, gaze at the lovely ornaments and lights, and walk by the inside Christmas dog Duke to hear him sing “Up on the housetop ho ho ho”.  We’ll splash in the bath.  Have wonderful dinners prepared by Grandpa and eat off matching Christmas dishes with special napkins.  We’ll take some cookies to a few of Grandma’s friends and some neighbors.  Their mother and I will watch a movie if we get the girls to bed in time, and spend every chance we get talking and sharing.  We’ll hug and smooch and tickle a lot.  We’ll have an occasional time out when little ones get cranky, but it won’t be needed often.  We’ll read the Christmas story, and go to church together as a family on Christmas Eve.  We’ll rearrange the figures on the nativity scenes set about in the living room, and talk about the wonder of the shepherds, the angels, and the wise men.  We’ll pray, and thank God for our many, many blessings.

And if we are truly fortunate, we’ll nap  :)

Turns out I DO have the camping gene

I confess I wasn’t really looking forward to The RV Trip.  It’s not that I didn’t want to spend time with family – I love that.  But for me, prone to motion sickness and a complete lack of the ‘camping gene’, the idea of 6 hours in a large moving bus to go to a campground was not enticing.  Even knowing how much my husband was looking forward to it, and how much fun he and his son would have jacking with every knob, lever, switch and handle on the unfamiliar rented vehicle the size of Delaware, and the lure of hiking in good weather (which I do enjoy) was not enough to overcome my reluctance. 

My last RV experience was nearly 30 years ago.  It too was across state lines, and the only significant memory I have of that trip was how nauseated I was and how sick I was for the entire trip.  And there was the teeny tiny detail that neither Paul nor his son Chris had ever driven anything approaching 40’ long.  Like I said, I’m not camper – my idea of camping is “which hotel are we staying in”.  The only saving grace was that I’d be with kids and grandkids, so I decided to try not to worry about motion sickness.

We arrived in Plano Thursday night to the sight of a large RV in Chris’ cul-de-sac.  An ear-splitting horn sounded as soon as we parked, and even in the rain Paul couldn’t wait to go check this thing out.  I was happy with just taking our things to the room and getting ready for bed.

The next morning the RV looked bigger – much bigger than it had in the dark and in the rain.  I began to feel hopeful about not being sick on this trip as we loaded up the food, gear and baggage.  Tyler kept running in every few minutes saying, “We’re leaving in 15 minutes!”  “We’re leaving in only 1 hour!”  “We are leaving in 30 minutes!”   Eventually we were all aboard and the leaving horn sounded.  Dawn and the kids and I found places in the back while Captain Chris was in the driver’s seat with Grandpa riding shotgun.

Grandpa was in “jack with it” heaven.  Seriously.  He had a checklist and busied himself with checking all the latches, jacking with the window blinds, and scoping out the instrument panel.  Took him a while to get into the navigator role, as we took our first wrong turn after only 30 minutes.  But we got righted, and Grandpa continued with his checklist:  “Generator - On!   Inverter - On!  Battery – oops!!”  Those sounds along with other noises that can’t be described in this blog serenaded us in the back.

Meanwhile, behind the driver area we were having our own adventures.  Dawn in particular had exceptional timing each time she went to the kitchen area to make a snack for the kids.  Almost as if timed, as soon as she was at the counter opening or spreading or slicing she would get slung around from a sharp turn by the RV.  I’d glance over to see her clinging to the counter for dear life, jelly caps and apple parts flying.   But she was a great sport about it, and it was the source of some good laughs for us.   We had a great sandwich lunch on the road and as we got close to the campsite Tyler and I played I Spy.

A gas stop was needed before we arrived so we picked a place with diesel and lumbered in.  It took so long to fill up I was beginning to get worried we’d make it before nightfall.  Later I realized a good chunk of that time was spent figuring out how to open the gas cap….

At the campsite we spotted our reserved site – a beautiful spot on the water with a great view.  Captain and Navigator had quite the discussion about heading in v. backing in and finally decided to head in so that when we were inside we’d still have the great view.  Carefully the RV was maneuvered into place, the jacks were lowered, and there we were with our gorgeous view.  We had noticed that every other RV had backed into their spot, and soon it became clear why:  the water and sewer hookups were on the other side.   Fortunately one of our neighbors noticed our predicament and came to the rescue with an extra, long-enough hose.  Now we were set. 

It turns out DO have a camping gene!  All it takes to activate it is the right amount of motion sickness pills and the most luxurious RV known to civilized man.  In our case, the 35’ Discovery Fleetwood – 10 tons of fully automatic, fully equipped living space designed for comfort and ease.   Once I realized I was not getting sick to my stomach, I could turn my attention to notice all the amenities.   Plenty of seating for those of us not driving or navigating; fully stocked refrigerator and snack cabinets; 4 burner gas stove and microwave; coffee maker; working bathroom (including shower) while you were rolling down the road; built-in inverter so you can stay plugged in to charge and power cell phones, laptops, I pads, and whatever else needs power; ample storage space; and if you really want to relax you can go take a nap in the bedroom on the sleep number bed.  Now this was camping even I could do!!

While we were camped in Lake Ouachita State Park we had many adventures.  We took several hikes, some in the day time where we saw the beauty of God’s handiwork, and one at night guided by Laura the Park Ranger where we learned why owls aren’t afraid of skunks (they can’t smell them) and got to see and touch lots of animal pelts.  One afternoon we had a boat excursion where we delighted in following two eagles trying to get duck for dinner – what a majestic sight that was!  Our meals were fabulous – bacon, sausage, eggs and fruit in the morning with good coffee; barbecued chicken or burgers with all the fixings at night.   Dinner was always followed by roasted marshmallows over the open campfire enjoying the cool night air and even the kids went to sleep easily after the day’s activities.  For all our fishing we did catch one catfish, although it was too small to keep.

Sunday morning we had time for one last hike on the Dogwood Trail, then it was pack up and get ready to hit the road.  We hadn’t been out on the street very long when we had to stop for something called a “dump stop”, which apparently involved disposing of our wastewater.  I tried not to look or know what they were doing as I was already battling some motion sickness.  I hadn’t considered the fact that leaving for the trip we started out on flat straight roads, for the most part, but coming home we started on winding, curving, hilly roads.  But it was manageable, and fortunately I was able to read so a good book made the trip go by fast. 

All too soon it was time to say goodbye to our kids and grandkids, and finish the trip with our last 4 hours on the road.  Hugs and kisses all around, and as we drove off I was still marveling – I DO have the camping gene!!

Owl Visits

They are in the trees by 8:15 p.m.  It’s best if fresh water is in the birdbath before 8.  But I’ve been late before, and as I walk out to the birdbath in the middle of the yard where with a full watering can of fresh water, the little gray screech owls watch me.  Silently, but in an approving, patiently waiting way.  I speak softly in sweet tones to them as they watch me dump out the dirty-bird water, rinse the bath and fill it with fresh, cool water, just waiting for them to enjoy

Almost always they come down for the first drink at 8:20 – you can set your clock by it. 

They spend at least a minute looking on all sides before daring to dip their beak down into the water.  They drink dipping their face straight down into the water, then curving their heads in an upward motion.  So graceful and magnificent.

Completely quiet in flight, you won’t hear them coming.  You have to be watching for them or you’ll miss them.   However I have learned to discern the sound of their “screech”, a misnomer I think.  It sounds more like a high pitched but soft and distant cat purr that dips into low notes before it ends.   Almost imperceptible but once you know what to listen for you can catch it.

Most summers we are lucky to see one owl once or twice during the summer.  But with the severe drought this year they have become regulars.  Most nights there are two of them, but once we had three at a time and one evening we saw four of them perched on the edge of the birdbath.  Amazing.

I think the two regulars are father and son.  The big one loves to take a bath.  After spending 4 or 5 minutes alternately drinking and watching, he’ll dip a foot farther into the bath.  Then he glides into the center and before he’s done he will have completely immersed his head several times, his tail, his full wings and is delightful dripping when he flies up to the branch to dry and groom.  At that point the little one lands or resumes drinking in earnest, but so far I’ve not seen him take a bath.

These silent, pretty, graceful creatures are fascinating to me.  They captivate me with they way they watch their surroundings and are so quick to turn or react to sounds I can’t hear.   The year I feel as if they are listening to me when I speak to them; I even saw one cock his head as I spoke while filling the bowl.  I know they’ll be gone soon but in the meantime you can find me out on my back porch each evening by 8:15.  Watching, and enjoying.

The Dress

Lena found The Dress today!   What fun it was to be there as she tried on various styles, culling down to what would become The Dress.  I wouldn’t have traded that experience for anything. 

I was so honored to be there with this “second daughter” of mine.  I am not her biological mother, but in many ways our closeness couldn’t be more Mother & Daughter.  She is also best friend to my daughter and the sister neither of them had.   As a mom I have plenty of extra advice, comments, suggestions and in this case lots of ooohs and aaaahs, and Lena wanted to hear it all. 

Lena is beautiful, very smart and knows what she wants, often to the point of stubbornness.  But she is usually right.  And when it comes to trying on wedding dresses, it is critical to know what you want or you’ll spend hours and hours just trying to decide on a style.  She had decided on the simple but elegant approach – no poofy, no lace, no excessive beads or jewels, and good heavens don’t even think of putting a flower or fish netting anywhere near her!  It had to be fitted not full, not traditional A-line, not too exposing of the bosom, the perfect white, and the perfect alignment of the bodice with that tiny, tiny waist. 

On to the fitting room, where I fastened each dress and then retrieved it for the assistant to hang up.  One hook for “possibles”, one for “no way will I wear that.”  Several of the styles suited her, and there were two very nice ones that she was beginning to think she would have a hard time choosing between.  And then she donned The Dress.

The Dress was gorgeous, elegantly flattering, the perfect cut and flow.  The gathering beneath the bodice was worked to perfection, creating an illusion of an even smaller waist, gracing the hips perfectly letting the romantic chiffon panels flow down softly to the floor.  As she stepped and turned, the panels slightly parted to reveal smooth satin underneath the outer material.  She traded the single, flowered strap for two simple spaghetti straps and voila – the perfect dress for her destination beach wedding.   You know it’s The Dress when you simply don’t want to take it off.  Ever.

Lena is going to be a beautiful bride.  And I will be there to see her say “I Do” in that gorgeous gown.   Probably with a tissue to catch happy-tears.