Harvesting for a Harvest

We think of autumn as harvest time...but usually to harvest crops. My good friends at Prairie Pedlar, (beautiful gardens and green house business) invite folks to come at the end of September and take whatever seeds they would like to plant in their own garden. Last Saturday, a perfect splendid early autumn day, I toured the grounds with Jane and we harvested seed from three varieties of Amaranth, French vanilla marigolds, kiss-me-the-garden-gate, and only-the-lonely. I brought home the little paper sacks filled with seeds of promise. In my hands was the future spring: tall Amaranth the color of garnet to border a secret garden, and rope amaranth with it's trailing dredlock curls. Creamy white marigolds that will pop in the evening garden, and wisping Kiss-me-over-the-garden-gate arching like plumes on a Gibson Girl's chapeau. The seeds of a future garden remind me of the rhythm of the seasons and God's promise that the elemental things of life do not change: while the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, winter and summer, and day and night shall not cease. Genesis 8:22
(The top picture was taken of my garden in 2003. The cleome
is from this year's garden

My birthday was just a few days ago. It was a wonderful birthday spread out over five days beginning with Monday and running through today. Every day there was celebration. All my family phoned: my mom, sis, and three children no longer at home. Drew was home, John took the night off, and it was just splendid. My very dear long-time friend called the evening of the actual day. As we always do, we reflected on our lives and laughed...and laughed...and laughed. She's three weeks and one day older than me. "Do you feel as old as we are?" I asked. Her answer was something like "No, I really don't." And then we looked back not on the best birthdays but the ages we most enjoyed. I really liked 7. I liked my teacher when I was 7. I loved being 7. In fact deep inside of me, some part of me is still 7. Another part is 27. That's when I realized I could be glamorous and beautiful. OK, so I was a late bloomer - but I made the most of it. Thirty-five was good too. By then I was married with three children, a bachelors degree, a masters degree and children, and the profession of my heart's desire. I was accomplished, competent, and upwardly mobile
Forty-nine was a great year. My doctorate studies were nearly complete. Two of our children were married and on their own. My work was deeply gratifying, and when I turned 50 I was looking forward to the next half century with robust optimism. Then it was rough sledding for a while. But a three hour horseback ride on the prairie with a dear friend revived a youthful spirit. And I owe my full recovery and rejuvenation to my two equine friends Duke and Lida Rose. (But that's another story). Some one once said, "To stay young, find an age and stick to it." I think having friends of all ages is one way to keep young. I am grateful for a full range from very young to very mature. Every year, I have enjoyed the age I am because I know I won't be that age again. As my grandpa used to say: "I'm not as young as I used to be or as old as I'm gonna be." So, whatever age you are (or would like to think you are) enjoy my ice cream birthday cake...a throw back to my first favorite age...seven.

Koi-Paloy

One of the marvelous things about having a pond is all the activity and energy it creates -especially at "feeding" time. Both John and I thoroughly enjoy our pond and its inhabitants. Yesterday we were at an elaborate Green house and nursery that had koi in an indoor pond. I wasn't sure I'd get John leave. He was like a kid at the puppy pen in a pet shop. If you think fish are boring, take a moment and watch the stars of our household in this release of their first-ever movie, Koi-Paloy (Turn up the volume so you don't miss the dialogue.)
This is the first time I have done a live video on my blog. Hope it works!

The Time of My Life

Funny how it is that as we get older, we cherish the things we remember from our childhood. My grandparents' home was a place of quiet joys and exciting wonders. Grandpa had a photo developing area in the basement not far from Grandma's barrel of powdered clay, work table, and kiln. Grandpa had his stereo with ribbons of cords laced under the oriental carpets, and Grandma had her dishwasher in her Delf blue kitchen. I was never afraid of the dark in my grandparents' home because through the stillness of night I could hear comforting sounds on the quarter hour, half hour, three quarters of the hour and the top of the hour. The towering grandfather clock which seemed to take up an entire wall in the front hallway marked every 15 minutes with it's mellow Big Ben chimes until it reached the full hour. I would count each chime as it resonated through the quiet house. A silence lingered as if it were the last, and then next...bong...until the full number completed the chorus. And on the heels of the silence that followed the last chime, a high double bell from the brass ship's clock in the kitchen would ring out ding ding...ding ding...ding ding...ding.. Early in my childhood Grandpa taught me how to tell time by the ship's bells. Time was divided by three watches in a twelve hour period: noon to four, four to eight, and eight to midnight, then again, 12 to four etc through the 24 hour day. Each hour was signalled by a doublet such that 1:00 P.M. or A.M. was two bells ding ding. The half hour was rung by a single bell such that ding ding...ding. was 1:30. My happy hours with my grandparents were lovingly measured by these two unique and memorable time pieces. The love of these two particular clocks with my childhood fascination of music boxes was recaptured one day in the shopping mall food court. I was taking a quick lunch while Christmas shopping when I heard, wafting about the noisey crowd, the unmistaqkeable rich tones of a double armed Regina Music Box. (I easily recongized the sound because when I was a teen we had friends who often played their Regina for me). I followed the music like the distant calling of my name across the food court and through the mall and into a clock shop when it stopped.. "You have an antique regina music box here. May I see it? " The proprietor looked at me with a wry smile and said, "Yes we do. It's in one of our clocks." and proceded to show me the intricate workmanship of an electronic CD that played on the hour from the inside of one of their grandfather's clocks. It was awesome. For over six years, whenever I was at the mall and had time, I would visit the clock, vowing some day I would buy it. When that day came, the CD had been replaced by micro chip technology, and the clock I wanted was no longer available. "But," said the proprietor, "We just got one in that might work for you.." I followed him to the back room. The clock was still cold to the touch from coming off the truck. I made a down payment and a payment every month for two years until the clock was delivered to our home, it's crystal pendulum spinning in the light casting a thousand spining lights on the ceiling like a disco ball, its glorious rich Big Ben Chimes pealing out the time by quarters, and the our favorite time of day heralded by the unparallel tones of a Regina double armed music box. The following month I made a down payment on a ships clock which was fully paid within a year. When we designed our home, a single prominant wall was devoted to our Grandfather's clock and the ships clock found its home above the kitchen sink just as my grandmother's clock had been. Such are the times of my life.

A Walk in the Park

It is very humbling when folks you have known only a year gift you with a joy for a lifetime. With all my thanks to Jack and Jane, Deb, and a whole lot of good people who are kind friends, the Extreme Garden Make Over Project is finished. Well, almost, I still have bullet lights to wire under the boxwood shrubs, and a little more rock to place here and there, but the "project" is done. We started about two weeks after Memorial Day, and there final stage, seeding grass on both terraces was finished this week.
There are so many details our House Warming photographer captured, like the horse heads at the base of the straight steps to the entrance. And the wistful little fairy poised reading among the petunias (my sister had given me the statue for my first garden. There are the solar powered blue scones and church bird house (also a gift from Sis) that hang gracefully from gracefully from shepherd hooks by the pond. And the staid concrete bench with adorned with grapes stands in counterpoint to the cleome's wild flailing branches. A lion majestically overlooks its pride just to the South of the waterfall . And a rich pink hardy hibiscus reigns in the East. The waterfall giggles with a rush over the rock, and everything has its moments of reflection in the mirror of water
depending upon the time of day.
The pond is teeming with life. Koi of all sizes cruise under water hybiscus, and flashing in a feeding frenzy at chow time From the road, you can't even tell there is a pond at the back of the house. Today my outdoor work consisted of transplanting one "nearly wild" rose bush and planting two more in the "North Dakota Corner" by the Russian Olives (wish someone had told me there was a variety without THORNS) and lilac bushes . It was crafted by the husband of one of the Sunday School teachers at church. Jack offered to paint it flat black when he installed the railing early this week. But I wasn't keen on black. Even in the few days that we had no rain, the bare metal railings began to show rust. They had to be completely wiped down and cleaned with a solution, primered, and then color coated: a "hammered" bronze color that really about matches the rail road ties in the steps.Last Sunday the ladies that come for Bible Study had to struggle with a flash light to get down the steps in the dark. So the following day I planted solar lights to chase away the shadows. The project was a huge success!

On A Mission

One of the most profound experiences of my life was going to Cedar Rapids after the flood and working with three other adults, two young people, and a crew from VISTA volunteers, to reclaim the lower level of a home that was a rental. The home owner was there working side by side with us. He was already 5 weeks into the demolition, but it was very slow going and he was overwhelmed. The home of his father-in-law had also been badly damaged by the flood, and this man's priorities were clear. However, the rental was income property which represented a considerable loss. Leaving at 5:00 AM we arrived at the Volunteer Center about 9 and were instructed as to the work and the hazards we would be facing that day. Masks were absolutely essential. When we left, the clothes and shoes we wore would be history - for fear of contamination by molds and bacteria - a zoological circus of nasties. By 10 AM we were onsite and began the work by by tearing out walls and hauling debris to the window. Our two minors were not permitted in the house, but they pulled their weight (and then some) by hauling the debris laden tarps from under the windows to the curb.
Kris and Steve were well familiar with equipping and
being well prepared for mission trips. They have taken
youth to Kentucky a number of trips. They provided ample leadership for the rest of us newbies. They brought the tools that were needed, the lunch, snacks, beverages, and plenty of water for this engagement. It was wonderful to work with seasoned pros. The Salvation Army came by on two occasions with food and drink for volunteers but we
were already well supplied.
It was also a joy to work along side youth from all over
the country serving in VISTA. From Seattle to Connecticut,
New Jersey, and Wisconsin, they devoted a summer to
volunteer work. I was impressed and encouraged about
America's youth and the future by their efforts that day.
It gave us great satisfaction to see the deep and genuine gratitude of the home owner for the work accomplished which would have taken him weeks, perhaps months to do himself. By 4 in the afternoon, we had yanked the last nail, pulled down the last plaster, and swept the last pile of dust. We were done and done in, packed up up and on the road home. However we made a short detour to visit Parkersburg, another disaster hit hometown. Streets were labeled by refrigerator box cardboard signs. The tornado took much of the community aloft. But they are rebuilding again.
I thought about this today because Hurricane Ike has struck with monstrous fury. Our photographer daughter, son-in-law, and their family have a home in the path of Ike's destruction. They left safely before it hit. But they don't know yet what they are going home to...what is left of their house, or their neighborhood, or their community. So we keep them and all those affected by this monstrous storm in prayer. If necessary, I will again assemble the troops and head south on a mission trip near and dear to my heart - this time, my own family.
I will never forget the look of relief and gratitude, the tears of the home owner when we finished that day. It was the first good day he had in five weeks. Thank you Lord.
Between the bare posts and through the glass-less window frames, he saw hope.

Give Credit Where Credit is Due

In my previous blog, I made an awful oversight. I intended to mention that the pictures of the house blessing work the work of an aspiring young photographer Stephanie, the daughter of my good friend Sheryl. And the photos of Drew (two of my favorite) were the work of a young perspiring (already out working in the field) photographer, our daughter Anna.
Many of our friends were able to come to the House Blessing which made the occasion particularly memorable for me. Stephanie captured the warmth and trust of friendship in this photo of two precious ladieswhoregularly come to Bible Study at our home. I think of the words from the song "Friends" And friends are friends forever when the Lord is Lord of them.
I am so grateful for everyone who came, for the cards, gifts and many expressions of kindness. I would, however, have to say that the most unusual house-warming gift came two weeks later when my friend Dione, who was unable to come to the House Warming, came for a visit. We toured some of my favorite haunts including Tuesday Morning store and lunch at my favorite restaurant. Dione was insistent that we go to Lowes or Menards (or both) so she could find what the gift she wanted us to have. At last at Menards we found just what she had in mind, and it's beautiful. It perfectly fits the French theme of my kitchen and matches the kitchen sink. The nozzle detaches with a long coil to easily fill coffee pots, crock pots, and flower pots. Dione, I will indeed think of you every time I go to the sink. Thank you dear friend.OK, so now you have seen everything on my blog including the kitchen sink! HA!

I Love to Write on Walls

My older sister might remember how I nearly got her in a heap trouble for writing her name on the wall behind her desk on her side of the room. Nearly pulled it off, too! I was seven. I thought it was pretty funny at the time. No one else did. Never again did I write on a wall; that is, until we built our home. My friend Jennifer had a Bible verse beautifully hand scripted on her kitchen and dining room walls. I was deeply impressed by seeing the word of the Lord painted on the walls of her home. So when we built our home, I decided that as each room was going to reflect some aspect of creation, there would be painted a corresponding Scripture verse. Each room has a different language:English in the Living Room, French in the kitchen/dining room, German in the guest room, Africannas in the Family room, Hebrew in the study,and in the Master bedroom Love is written in eighteen languages. When I started to paint the Scripture in the hallway that is themed with Noah and the Ark, I first laid out the letters in a gray green. Got off the step ladder, looked at the work, and laughed out loud. It looked like lettering in an Irish Pub. Shadowing with two shades of blue and silver highlights took the tavern out of it. It's ironic, because the first thing Noah did when he got off the ark was plant a vineyard.
I still have to write Portugese in the guest bathroom, Italian in the Master bath, and when I redo Drew's former room as the Iowa room, the Scripture "The cattle on a thousand hills are Mine" from the Psalms might be painted in a Native American Room. Yet to come: Greek in the short Noah's Ark hallway. Spanish is the language for my South Western Horse themed Studio, and for the Star Trek inspired video room...you guessed it - KLINGON! I need to figure out where I can write the Scripture in Elvish...(From Lord of the Rings) Maybe in the Aquaria downstairs. not novel. It is as old as the Bible. Check it out. Daniel 5. Writing God's Word on the wall is not novel. Check it out: Daniel 5

I'M BACK!

Over 20 months of silence on the blog, and I'm back. The only excuse I have for not blogging is that I didn't think anyone would miss me! So, back by "popular demand" (well, maybe one or two people said they missed my blog), I'm clicking to catch up.
First, I did finish the calendar for my sister's birthday (January 2007 entries) and I finished two volumes of scrapbooks of the Paris trip with a third in progress. From May 2007 until May 2008 Drew's childhood friend (an adjunct member of the family) Rob Hill lived with us and the two boys worked at Hardees in Sioux City. Drew finished his high school work with flying colors on his GED last June. Our young guitarist now lives in Omaha and is currently looking for work - preferably a job where in can wander in cyberspace.
I didn't have to suffer the pangs of empty nest very long, because I flew the coup. The month long "pulpit supply" position I accepted in August last year, extended to September, then December, through June and now I am officially appointed to serve Early and Odebolt United Methodist Churches part-time. (You understand the term "Part-Time" in ministry is like the word "Retirement" - entirely theoretical and possibly imaginary!) After working at Tuesday Morning for 18 months (which I truly enjoyed) I realized I very much missed having churches to love. So when the call came, I climbed back in the saddle and tally ho!
In the mean time, our home still had unpainted walls and construction paper covered sub-flooring that beckoned to be finished! I embarked on the taming of the room to be my study. Just clearing it out took a week. And then another two and a half months to base coat, paint the walls, the ceiling, hang the chandelier, hang all the prisms on the chandelier (a full afternoon), hang the small chandelier and it's prisms (three hours), lay the in-laid "marble" (vinyl) tile floor, install the be glass shelves in the music box display closet and under the windows, retrieve the antique writing desk from the land of the lost (the basement), assemble the new glass computer desks, and roll out the oriental carpet. The ceiling itself took several weeks. In 2005 I watched Debby Travis on Painted House (HGTV, of course) create the illusion of a "Tray" ceiling by cleverly applying color in three shades. At the time I thought "hmmm. I might want to do that in the study of our new house" (when as yet there was no new house) and downloaded the instructions from the HGTV website. One gallon, 9 quarts of three shades of three different colors, two pounds of painters tape and a month of labor, and the effect was amazing!
Wonderful folks, members of the Odebolt church, owners of a nursery business and and an employee (all were good friends) rallied the forces and took on the landscaping of our home as an Extreme Garden Make-Over project! They collected contributions from members of both churches and after long hours in their own greenhouse and gardens, they worked past dark to transform our un-tameable front hill and "swimmin' hole" into a beautiful landscaped "hanging garden" and picturesque waterfall fed pond. "You work on the house, Pastor, and we'll take care of the gardens and landscaping." Truth is I thoroughly enjoyed working along side of the dynamic trio mesmerized by the metamorphosis of weed-locked slope into the graceful entrance of our home. We don't have curbs on our street, just appeal. Thinking that I had at least two and a half months to finish the living room floor, the kitchen and dining room floor, put moldings back on through all of the house, base coat, paint and floor the family room, the date for the Open-House Blessing was set for Aug.17. But...

There were funerals.
In July I had a wedding, and another wedding in August. Also in July there was the non-scheduled mission trip to Cedar Rapids to help with the flood clean-up. It was the first mission trip I have made - a sad, but gratifying experience reflected in the face of the homeowner we helped.
So John and I and Drew boogied to get the house somewhat reasonably put back together. The Family room was base-coated, color painted, and with the help of my friend Denise, floored in about three weeks - record time for any space in the house including the master closet (which still needs flooring!) Every day for a month I was making and writing invitations ( lost count after 110). Every person who has blessed us, those who worked on the house, family, friends, entire congregations of four churches were invited to celebrate with us. I hired Lorraine, a retired custodian of a former church I served to help me clean house the day before the Open House while our young handy-man construction entrepreneur Mike installed the 51'x41' antique stained glass window showcased in the master bathroom. Carol, who has "historically" baked and decorated our family celebration cakes for Anna's confirmation, Chris's graduation, Drew's baptism, John's 50th birthday etc, made five sheet cakes for the occasion: white, chocolate, marble, carrot and lemon.
Members of the Church where I often did pulpit supply prepared and served the light refreshments of crackers, cheese, summer sausage, fruit kabobs, punch, coffee, and of course, cake. Friends and my mother sent arrangements of flowers which graced the living room, study, and family room. Then people began to arrive. Lots of people. More people than were in the little country church for our wedding. I think there were about 135. Every one seemed to enjoy every one else.
The house was humming with interest and conversation. The house was doing what I hoped it would. Bringing people together. At 7:30 most of us - 70 of us wandered outside to the loaned garden chairs outside while another 20 or so remained in the house by the open casement windows when the "Program" began.". All the painters tape rolled in a ball proved to be a means for folks to get acquainted or to compliment the person sitting beside them. One guest accurately guessed the ball weighed 7 lbs. and was given a house plant as a prize. Two other prizes were given. Awards for appreciation were also given. A pastor friend John Carritt sang. My friend, Shurmaine, also a pastor, gave a lovely brief message and blessed our home. We closed by singing "God Be with You til We Meet Again" as the sky turned coral with the setting sun. It was the end of a perfect day, a wonderful celebration among so many friends.


My friends Albertha and Patrick, and Kerrin, and my mother, all sent flowers.
And the following day I did what I never do....nothing.
except look out on the lawn, and the pond, and remember, treasure the vision of so many loving people, so wonderful the generosity of our friends, and so great the blessings God has bestowed upon us. Y'all come back now, ya hear?