I love pie. Not pi(r)squared so much, but definitely pie(r)round; as in pecan, apple, raspberry...not pumpkin so much. I enjoy making pies as well as eating them. This frosty Thanksgiving morning, I am snug in my warm kitchen with a golden pecan pie cooling on my counter and two cinnamony-sweet apple pies bubbling in the oven for this afternoon's feast. (Mmmm...mashed potatoes and gravy)
I've been making quite a few pies lately. Baked an apple pie to take to a friend, and co-worker of Mark's, who fell off his roof last month, shattering his hip. Made an apple pie for my 86 year old granny, who can't make her own pies anymore because her arthritic hands "don't work so good anymore". Made an apple pie for my family because they looked longingly at the previous two as they exited the house. Baked a pecan pie and an apple pie for our church's Thanksgiving Praise and Pie Social. Now the three pies for Thanksgiving dinner.
I see how God has blessed me to be able to bless others with my pies. Just one of so many blessings to be able to offer Him thanks for today. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Thursday, November 25, 2004
Friday, November 19, 2004
GRILLIN' AND CHILLIN'
Last night's supper was delightful. In the afternoon I built a fire in our firepit, which gave me an opportunity to burn up a lot of the chewed up sticks Cass (our 9 month old purebred pain-in-the-butt) drags into the yard. I enjoyed the balmy fall afternoon, tending the fire, and doing a little raking. When the fire had burned down to a good base of coals I put chicken breasts with a bottle of barbeque sauce and a can of Coke together in my big cast iron dutch oven, which I then put on the fire. I sliced red potatoes and onions, wrapped them with some butter in tinfoil and put them on a rack over the fire. While supper cooked I watched the sun go down and the moon come up. It was a beautiful night. With the sun's departure, it turned chilly so the fire provided warmth and comfort.
Taylie and Tessa had surprised me with a raspberry Jello salad they'd made earlier while I was gone and it complemented the meal wonderfully. We dished up our plates by the fire and, though the menfolk fled indoors claiming it was too cold out, the girls and I ate by firelight and savored the fine cuisine and superb ambience of the setting. It doesn't get any better.
Taylie and Tessa had surprised me with a raspberry Jello salad they'd made earlier while I was gone and it complemented the meal wonderfully. We dished up our plates by the fire and, though the menfolk fled indoors claiming it was too cold out, the girls and I ate by firelight and savored the fine cuisine and superb ambience of the setting. It doesn't get any better.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
HELP! I NEED SOMEBODY!
I like to help others who are in need. It gives me a good feeling to know I've eased someone's burden and I am fulfilling the mandate set forth in Galations 6:2 where the Apostle Paul tells us, "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ". I may not always know what the need is but, if I am made aware, I am glad to be able to help in some way.
Some women have built-in radar for others in need and show up with just what you need, right when you need it. My friend, Cheri, is one of these women. God has gifted her with a helping spirit and the discernment to go with it. I am one of many who has been blessed by her help over the years.
The thing we need to remember is this verse in Galations implies a giving and receiving of help. For some of us -- me included, it is easier, or more comfortable, to give than to receive. If pride, embarrassment, or fear of looking like a failure keep us from asking for help we deprive others of the blessing that comes from helping. It is God's plan for others to bear my burdens with me and vice versa. We need to accept help as willingly as we offer it.
I am being blessed right now by being able to help Cheri go through the immense amount of belongings, left by her mother-in-law's passing away, and prepare for an estate sale. I am glad that Cheri has given me this opportunity to come alongside her and help bear her burden. Thank you, Cheri.
Some women have built-in radar for others in need and show up with just what you need, right when you need it. My friend, Cheri, is one of these women. God has gifted her with a helping spirit and the discernment to go with it. I am one of many who has been blessed by her help over the years.
The thing we need to remember is this verse in Galations implies a giving and receiving of help. For some of us -- me included, it is easier, or more comfortable, to give than to receive. If pride, embarrassment, or fear of looking like a failure keep us from asking for help we deprive others of the blessing that comes from helping. It is God's plan for others to bear my burdens with me and vice versa. We need to accept help as willingly as we offer it.
I am being blessed right now by being able to help Cheri go through the immense amount of belongings, left by her mother-in-law's passing away, and prepare for an estate sale. I am glad that Cheri has given me this opportunity to come alongside her and help bear her burden. Thank you, Cheri.
Monday, November 15, 2004
THE TOMB OF THE UNKNOWNS
The recent Veterans' Day observance brought to my email inbox an item of interest to me about the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, which led me to do further research of it on the Internet. I have never been to Washington, DC, and had the opportunity to visit this memorial myself and only knew what I learned about it in grade school history class. Which, apparently, wasn't much. Like most people, I knew the Tomb was located in Arlington National Cemetery and was guarded by a soldier. I knew the inscription on the white marble sarcophagus reads "HERE RESTS IN HONORED GLORY AN AMERICAN SOLDIER KNOWN BUT TO GOD". Some things I may have known and forgotten are that on March 3, 1921, Congress approved a resolution providing for the burial in Arlington National Cemetery on Armistice day 1921 of an unknown and unidentified soldier of World War I. On August 3, 1956, President Eisenhower signed a bill to select and pay tribute to the unknowns of World War II and Korea. The interment of these soldiers took place on May 30, 1958. President Reagan presided over the interment of the unknown soldier of Viet Nam on May 30, 1984. For some reason, unknown to me, the remains of this soldier were exhumed on May 14, 1998, and identified by means of DNA testing as those of Air Force 1st Lt. Michael J. Blassie. It was decided that the grave will remain empty. The crypts of the unknowns from WW II, Korea, and Viet Nam lie west of the main Tomb and are marked with white marble slabs flush with the plaza.
Even more interesting to me was what I learned about the soldiers who guard the Tomb. There is a Society of the Honor Guard of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and their motto is "Soldiers never die until they are forgotten. Tomb Guards never forget." Guards must commit two years of their life to guard the Tomb and live in a barracks under the Tomb. They cannot drink alcohol on or off duty for the rest of their lives. They cannot swear in public nor disgrace the uniform or the Tomb in any way. After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin that is worn on their lapel signifying that they served as a guard of the Tomb. The guard must obey these rules for the rest of their lives or give up the wreath pin. The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to anyone nor watch TV. All off-duty time is spent studying the 175 notable people laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. He must memorize who they are and where they are interred.
A guard spends five hours a day getting his uniforms ready for duty. There are no wrinkles, folds, or lint on the uniform. The shoes have extra thick soles to protect their feet from the heat and cold. There are metal heel plates on them that make the loud click as they come to a halt. His gloves are moistened to prevent him losing his grip on the rifle. He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from the Tomb. After he marches 21 steps across the path in front of the Tomb, he executes an about face and moves the rifle to the outside shoulder. There he hesitates for 21 seconds before beginning his return walk. 21 steps and 21 seconds allude to the twenty-one gun salute. The guards are changed every thirty minutes, twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.
In 2003, as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching Washington, DC, the soldiers assigned the duty of guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier were given permission to suspend the assignment because of the dangers from the hurricane. They respectfully declined the offer. Soaked to the skin, marching in the pelting rain of a tropical storm, they said that guarding the Tomb was not just an assignment; it was the highest honor that can be afforded to a serviceperson. The Tomb of the Unknowns has been patrolled continuously, 24/7, since 1930.
Even more interesting to me was what I learned about the soldiers who guard the Tomb. There is a Society of the Honor Guard of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and their motto is "Soldiers never die until they are forgotten. Tomb Guards never forget." Guards must commit two years of their life to guard the Tomb and live in a barracks under the Tomb. They cannot drink alcohol on or off duty for the rest of their lives. They cannot swear in public nor disgrace the uniform or the Tomb in any way. After two years, the guard is given a wreath pin that is worn on their lapel signifying that they served as a guard of the Tomb. The guard must obey these rules for the rest of their lives or give up the wreath pin. The first six months of duty a guard cannot talk to anyone nor watch TV. All off-duty time is spent studying the 175 notable people laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery. He must memorize who they are and where they are interred.
A guard spends five hours a day getting his uniforms ready for duty. There are no wrinkles, folds, or lint on the uniform. The shoes have extra thick soles to protect their feet from the heat and cold. There are metal heel plates on them that make the loud click as they come to a halt. His gloves are moistened to prevent him losing his grip on the rifle. He carries the rifle on the shoulder away from the Tomb. After he marches 21 steps across the path in front of the Tomb, he executes an about face and moves the rifle to the outside shoulder. There he hesitates for 21 seconds before beginning his return walk. 21 steps and 21 seconds allude to the twenty-one gun salute. The guards are changed every thirty minutes, twenty-four hours a day, 365 days a year.
In 2003, as Hurricane Isabelle was approaching Washington, DC, the soldiers assigned the duty of guarding the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier were given permission to suspend the assignment because of the dangers from the hurricane. They respectfully declined the offer. Soaked to the skin, marching in the pelting rain of a tropical storm, they said that guarding the Tomb was not just an assignment; it was the highest honor that can be afforded to a serviceperson. The Tomb of the Unknowns has been patrolled continuously, 24/7, since 1930.
Thursday, November 11, 2004
THANKS, DAD
Today is Veterans' Day and my thoughts turn to the many men I've known who have served, or are currently serving, our country in the Armed Services. Probably foremost in my mind is my dad who fought in the Korean War as a U.S. Marine. He served two tours of duty there, one 13 months and one seven months, with Reconnaissance Co., 1st Marine Division, Headquarters Battalion, as a scout; often the pointman. I cannot begin to imagine what kind of impact that kind of duty can have on one's psyche, particularly one so young. He was the age my son, Ramsey, is now -- eighteen. When Dad was discharged from the Marines after four years, twenty months of that spent in combat, he voluntarily checked himself into a Veterans' mental hospital in Detroit because he knew he was messed up. Diagnosed with "battle fatigue", today called "post traumatic stress disorder", he struggled to bring his mind, trained to fight and kill, back to civilian life. Add to that the fact that Korea was an "unpopular" war back home, not even being officially called a war, but a "police action", for a long time. Unlike Viet Nam veterans who came home and protested their treatment by their countrymen, Korean vets slunk quietly off to lick their wounds.
Dad stopped by yesterday to drop off some papers for me and I wished him "happy birthday" -- not his, which is April 2nd, but that of the United States Marine Corps on November 10th. He was pleased I remember this day is significant to him. Today I called him for Veterans' Day and thanked him for his service. As we talked and I asked him questions about his time in Korea, he summed it up, "War is war; it doesn't matter if you're there for a day or a year, it changes you forever." Well spoken, Dad.
Dad stopped by yesterday to drop off some papers for me and I wished him "happy birthday" -- not his, which is April 2nd, but that of the United States Marine Corps on November 10th. He was pleased I remember this day is significant to him. Today I called him for Veterans' Day and thanked him for his service. As we talked and I asked him questions about his time in Korea, he summed it up, "War is war; it doesn't matter if you're there for a day or a year, it changes you forever." Well spoken, Dad.
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
KNIT TWO, PURL TWO
Knitting really is enjoying a resurgence in popularity these days. Seems like everyone is doing it, from movie stars to high school home ec. classes. I even heard of an all boys knitting club in one school and they were the big, beefy jock types -- knitting is suddenly "cool".
I grew up with a mother who was an accomplished knitter. She knit socks and mittens, hats and sweaters, baby clothes and Barbie clothes. One Christmas my sister, Tara, and I received knit striped skirts with matching vests --Yikes! I think we were thrilled with them back then.
I remember Mom teaching me to knit when I was around eight or nine but I lost interest fairly quickly. I crocheted for a while in my teens and early twenties; even have one fourth of an afghan to prove it. I took up knitting again around the age of thirty with the birth my second child, daughter Taylie. And now she is knitting with me, as well as her younger sister, Tessa. It pleases me that both girls are doing very well and it looks like they've acquired a life-long skill. Tess knits while standing or walking around, which is a new one to me as I see knitting as an opportunity to put my feet up. Taylie has joined with me and a few other women in knitting preemie hats for babies in the neonatal intensive care unit at Rush Memorial Hospital in Chicago where friend Mindy is a nurse.
It's gratifying to knit with a purpose beyond just creating pleasing items; there is a need for these baby hats. As we knit, the words of Psalm 139:13-14 come to mind: "For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well." The babies we are knitting hats for are struggling with illness, deformity, effects of alcohol and substance abuse by their mother, handicap, underdeveloped organs, and fighting for their very lives. Not all make it. But God knows each one...their frame was not hidden from Him when they were made in the secret place; when they were woven together His eyes saw their unformed bodies, and all the days ordained for them were written in His Book before one of them came to be. (Ps.139) The Hand of the Master Knitter is upon each one of those precious little ones and I pray for the tiny little heads our hats will cover. I pray that the families of those babies, and all who come in contact with them, would be drawn to the Father by His grace, mercy, and healing.
I grew up with a mother who was an accomplished knitter. She knit socks and mittens, hats and sweaters, baby clothes and Barbie clothes. One Christmas my sister, Tara, and I received knit striped skirts with matching vests --Yikes! I think we were thrilled with them back then.
I remember Mom teaching me to knit when I was around eight or nine but I lost interest fairly quickly. I crocheted for a while in my teens and early twenties; even have one fourth of an afghan to prove it. I took up knitting again around the age of thirty with the birth my second child, daughter Taylie. And now she is knitting with me, as well as her younger sister, Tessa. It pleases me that both girls are doing very well and it looks like they've acquired a life-long skill. Tess knits while standing or walking around, which is a new one to me as I see knitting as an opportunity to put my feet up. Taylie has joined with me and a few other women in knitting preemie hats for babies in the neonatal intensive care unit at Rush Memorial Hospital in Chicago where friend Mindy is a nurse.
It's gratifying to knit with a purpose beyond just creating pleasing items; there is a need for these baby hats. As we knit, the words of Psalm 139:13-14 come to mind: "For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well." The babies we are knitting hats for are struggling with illness, deformity, effects of alcohol and substance abuse by their mother, handicap, underdeveloped organs, and fighting for their very lives. Not all make it. But God knows each one...their frame was not hidden from Him when they were made in the secret place; when they were woven together His eyes saw their unformed bodies, and all the days ordained for them were written in His Book before one of them came to be. (Ps.139) The Hand of the Master Knitter is upon each one of those precious little ones and I pray for the tiny little heads our hats will cover. I pray that the families of those babies, and all who come in contact with them, would be drawn to the Father by His grace, mercy, and healing.
Monday, November 08, 2004
FIRST STEPS
"Direct my steps by Your Word, and let no iniquity have dominion over me." Psalm 119:133
I am constantly trying to get myself and my life organized but I've never been able to achieve this desired state in all areas simultaneously. I would like have peace and order around me. So I focus on organizing my home, cleaning, decluttering. Of course, about the time my bedroom is beginning to shape up and no longer looking like a cross between a thrift shop and a breeding ground for dust bunnies, the basement has taken on the foreboding air of the nether regions. I set out to clean up and organize closets one at a time -- before I get finished with the last, the first is again vomiting its contents each time someone is brave enough to open it. We have too much stuff. So I go on a flinging spree, taking bags of our excess to the Thrift Shop, putting some things out by the road with a "FREE" sign affixed (it's amazing how fast stuff disappears this way!). At times I expend so much energy trying to order my home that I don't have anything left for other more important areas in my life.
I notice I am not the only person striving and stuggling in this area, either. People all around me say the same things about not having enough time for all they want and need to do; not having enough space for all their "stuff". Books upon books about organizing, decluttering, and simplifying our lives have been published. Magazines with titles like Real Simple clog our magazine racks. (Has anyone written Simplifying for Simpletons yet?) Websites abound addressing the same. Apparently, none of these have provided the ultimate solution to the chaos and clutter that seems to rule our lives these days.
God wrote a book that does provide us with a blueprint for ordering our lives because He desires this for us because He is a god of order and design, not chaos and confusion. This morning the Lord spoke to me during my quiet time through this simple verse in Psalm 119 -- "Direct my steps by Your Word, and let no iniquity have dominion over me." This speaks of ordering our steps according to God's Word to us. When the Bible is foundational in our lives, it guides how we think and act, it sets our priorities in all areas. Ordering my life by applying God's Word makes things go more smoothly, not just in my home but in my relationships, our homeschooling, our finances.
I realize ordering my life is another one of those ongoing, life-long processes that will never be fully completed until God calls me home. I need to ask Him to show me areas in my life that need change and to guide me in making those changes. And may the decisions I make bring glory and honor to Him.
I am constantly trying to get myself and my life organized but I've never been able to achieve this desired state in all areas simultaneously. I would like have peace and order around me. So I focus on organizing my home, cleaning, decluttering. Of course, about the time my bedroom is beginning to shape up and no longer looking like a cross between a thrift shop and a breeding ground for dust bunnies, the basement has taken on the foreboding air of the nether regions. I set out to clean up and organize closets one at a time -- before I get finished with the last, the first is again vomiting its contents each time someone is brave enough to open it. We have too much stuff. So I go on a flinging spree, taking bags of our excess to the Thrift Shop, putting some things out by the road with a "FREE" sign affixed (it's amazing how fast stuff disappears this way!). At times I expend so much energy trying to order my home that I don't have anything left for other more important areas in my life.
I notice I am not the only person striving and stuggling in this area, either. People all around me say the same things about not having enough time for all they want and need to do; not having enough space for all their "stuff". Books upon books about organizing, decluttering, and simplifying our lives have been published. Magazines with titles like Real Simple clog our magazine racks. (Has anyone written Simplifying for Simpletons yet?) Websites abound addressing the same. Apparently, none of these have provided the ultimate solution to the chaos and clutter that seems to rule our lives these days.
God wrote a book that does provide us with a blueprint for ordering our lives because He desires this for us because He is a god of order and design, not chaos and confusion. This morning the Lord spoke to me during my quiet time through this simple verse in Psalm 119 -- "Direct my steps by Your Word, and let no iniquity have dominion over me." This speaks of ordering our steps according to God's Word to us. When the Bible is foundational in our lives, it guides how we think and act, it sets our priorities in all areas. Ordering my life by applying God's Word makes things go more smoothly, not just in my home but in my relationships, our homeschooling, our finances.
I realize ordering my life is another one of those ongoing, life-long processes that will never be fully completed until God calls me home. I need to ask Him to show me areas in my life that need change and to guide me in making those changes. And may the decisions I make bring glory and honor to Him.
Saturday, November 06, 2004
BLESSINGS ALL MINE...
Another beautiful fall afternoon. Not the glorious golden of a few weeks ago -- all the leaves have left their summer perches and drifted to their winter beds. I spent a couple days raking our yard a week or so ago, as I figured all the leaves that were going to come down were down. No sooner did I finish that job than a tremendous wind kicked up and down came all the tenacious oak leaves that hang on for dear life, sometimes even all winter. Now it doesn't look like I did a thing out there. Oh, well...that's what spring raking is for.
I am torn between being outdoors today and tending to some tasks in the house. I'm big on compromise -- I have a good start on cleaning and re-arranging some in my bedroom, I've set two loaves of bread to rise in their pans, chicken breasts are simmering for tonight's dinner, and three loads of laundry are done all the way to being folded and put away. When the bread comes out of the oven I am going to take to the woods with my shotgun and dog and see if I can get the jump on a wiley grouse.
Mark ground up a bunch of venison burger this morning and now is out hunting this afternoon. Ramsey is in Rhinelander drilling with his National Guard unit, Taylie worked until 1:00 at the Tackle Box and now is finishing up some schoolwork so she can get back to her knitting. Tessa and Wylie are matching socks and then will escape outdoors for the last of the afternoon.
All day today I have had such an awareness of how God has blessed me. There was a time in my life when I despaired of ever being able to conceive a child...now I have four! The 9th verse of the 113th Psalm, a very special passage for me, comes to mind: "He settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Praise the Lord." Amen
I am torn between being outdoors today and tending to some tasks in the house. I'm big on compromise -- I have a good start on cleaning and re-arranging some in my bedroom, I've set two loaves of bread to rise in their pans, chicken breasts are simmering for tonight's dinner, and three loads of laundry are done all the way to being folded and put away. When the bread comes out of the oven I am going to take to the woods with my shotgun and dog and see if I can get the jump on a wiley grouse.
Mark ground up a bunch of venison burger this morning and now is out hunting this afternoon. Ramsey is in Rhinelander drilling with his National Guard unit, Taylie worked until 1:00 at the Tackle Box and now is finishing up some schoolwork so she can get back to her knitting. Tessa and Wylie are matching socks and then will escape outdoors for the last of the afternoon.
All day today I have had such an awareness of how God has blessed me. There was a time in my life when I despaired of ever being able to conceive a child...now I have four! The 9th verse of the 113th Psalm, a very special passage for me, comes to mind: "He settles the barren woman in her home as a happy mother of children. Praise the Lord." Amen
Friday, November 05, 2004
...NOT!
Cheri informed me that I have become a "slacker" where blogging is concerned. Somehow, that information gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling -- it's nice to be missed! And she's right, I have not blogged, but once, since retrieving our computer from the PC doc. Our computer resides in our basement and when I whined to Cheri that "it's chilly down there and my arthritis has flared up in my neck" she firmly encouraged me to put on wool socks, heat up my rice-bag, bring along a cup of tea, and light a couple candles. So, now that I've set the scene: me in wool socks with my rice-bag draped over my neck, sipping vinegar & honey tea, hunched over the keyboard; let me just say that I am suffering from a bad case of writer's block and call it quits for today. I'll try again tomorrow!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)