Pour a cup of tea ...

Go outside. Take a break. Sit down. Watch. Listen. Breathe.  Pray.

We are not meant to go and go and go and go and go.  For 49 days now, in the quiet before dawn or the bird-song filled early morning, I have sat outside.  I am learning to be still and attentive.  I do not want to start a day now without these moments of quiet inactivity.

It was a book title that got me going.  A little book called God in the Yard by L.L. Barkat.  I haven't finished reading it and I'm not even sure if I like the book yet or not.  I'm just going slowly, chewing, and gleaning.  One thing I know, though, is that for many reasons, I needed to carve out this space.   

 "Be still and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!"

Psalm 46:10

This little treat ...

...the chocolate in the Mason jar, our Valentine's dessert ...

was easy and incredible! 

And thanks, PW.

Flowers on the table,
compliments of one of my
several Valentine's...

Very sweet to be surprised with flowers
from a teenage son,
who, incidentally,
thought the chocolate
was amazing.
Thanks, buddy.  

Tough Mudder 2

Thomas just emailed me the only photo taken yesterday after the race.  He even supplied the caption:

"Think you could keep up with this guy for an 11.5 mile obstacle course?  Think again."

On another note:  After that little cold snap, we are feeling optimistic.  Also, the pool cover had a hole in it, so it wasn't doing its job anyway.  So, today, earlier than ever before, we opened the pool!

Before...

and after ...

and in between ...

Taking ice off  and moving the buckets that hold the cover down,

Baling dirty water before taking the cover completely off.  There's no way to get all that water off without some of it going in the pool.  Plus, with the hole in the cover, we were already getting icky water down below.  Now, the clear well water is streaming in and the pump is running.

Wonder how long it will be before the pool man braves the cold water.

Early March, I am predicting.

Even though it's pretty pond-like, it sure is nice to look out the kitchen window and see that sight.

Now to get that bedraggled garden ready for spring.

Tough Mudder

Today, Thomas (that's child #3, son #2, for any of you who don't know) rose at 3:45 AM, drove 4 hours, ran 11.5 miles (and part of the time his shorts and shirt were frozen), climbed obstacles, swam underneath ice (and had to break through it to get a breath), crawled through tunnels and slogged through mud, dove from a platform and swam across a lake, and finished first in his group of 500.  Wow!  I wish I could have seen him when he finished.

Then he drove home and fixed dinner for his wife, Kay, before they came to the church business meeting.  Wow, again!

not a picture from today ... just one of my favorite recent ones
taken by Kay

I am rather in awe and incredibly thankful tonight for this strong, courageous, determined, kind of crazy, thoughtful, tender, devoted son.  I bet he's going to sleep really well tonight!

Winter ...

finally came to the Carolinas.  

It's cooooooold out there tonight.  Down to 20 and very windy.  (That's cold for us!) 

Joel had his first regular season soccer game this afternoon and we froze!  I had on a hat, gloves, fleece vest, scarf, heavy coat and was wrapped in a blanket.  I really felt for the players on the field.  Joel was so cold when he got in the car.  He said it was hard to talk toward the end of the game, they were all so chilled.  We cranked up the heat and stopped on the way home for hot chocolate.  A hot shower, hot food, and hot tea and we're all warmed up now and happy we don't have to go anywhere tonight. 

I'm a little worried about these guys, though.  The upland chorus frogs have been singing so early this year.  Croaking, really, but since they are called chorus frogs, I'll say they sing!  This is the music we've been hearing for several weeks now. I hope they don't all freeze tonight.

Surprise!

I came home after teaching and running errands this morning and the first thing Coty said was, "I got your ticket."

Wait!  What!  My ticket???

We'd been talking about dates for a trip for me to visit Erin, Luke, and Clara but I didn't think we'd settled it yet.  But, while I was out this morning, Coty called Erin to make sure the dates we'd mentioned worked for her and then, he got my plane ticket!  Just like that!

Yep, going to see this little girl at the beginning of March!

And her Mama ...

And her Daddy.

Horses, too.

Happy, happy, happy, happy!

Moonset and Sunrise

Every morning since the first of January, I have come downstairs, made a mug of coffee or tea, pulled on a warm coat and hat, and gone outside to sit.  For as long as it takes to finish my hot drink, I sit.  Quiet.  Still. No books.  No journal.  Just my mug and me and the morning.

I've been getting to know which birds sing first and where they live, what the phase of the moon is and where I can expect to see it in the sky, when the school bus drives by, when my neighbor backs down his long driveway, where the squirrels nest (the hole in the tall poplar), whether the day will be damp or dry, cloudy or clear.  I've listened to the chorus frogs croaking very early this year, felt the rain on my face, and watched the light grow in the eastern sky.  I know my little acre and it's surroundings far better now than I ever have before.

This morning when I stepped onto the deck, mug in hand, a quilt over my arm, I saw the moon so, so bright. It's the first time I've seen it for a couple of weeks.  It had waned and waxed and is waning again.  For the last couple of week it had moved from the bit of sky I see in the morning.  And then, today, I was up and out in time to see it again... just past full and bright and beautiful.  I turned my chair to watch it set as behind me the sun began to rise.  Moonset and sunrise.  That's a good way to start the day.

And God said, "Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night.  And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years, and let them be lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light upon the earth." And it was so.             

I promised cow eyes ...

But first, something beautiful ...

This was the sunset last night.  Swathes of pink brushed across the sky.  I had to step outside and watch it for a little while as the soup cooked.

Now, on to the cow eyes...

 My students are very good sports.  These dissections can be messy and a little gross for the faint of heart.  I had a few faint hearts at the beginning of the year, but by and large, my students now have nerves of steel.  Cutting open an eyeball - no big deal.  Except that the sclera on a cow eye is very tough and not easy to cut.  But they succeeded and everybody identified the iris, lens, vitreous humour, retina, choroid, optic nerve and tapetum (scroll down on the linked page to see this from the cow's eye.  It's very pretty. Sort of like mother of pearl.  Who knew?  Actually, I did because I'm an old pro at cow's eyes, but it was rather pleasantly surprising for my students).

They peeled off the iris.  Yea!  That's a cow iris above.  The hole is the pupil.  You knew that, right.

I always make my students clean up at the end.  Extra credit if they wash the dirty breakfast dishes.

OK, enough of that. How about something else pretty ...

There's a new quilt in the making.  It was a Christmas gift - a present with the promise.  I gave Jenn the fabrics and told her I'd make her a quilt.  It will be a smallish quilt - more like a wrapping-up-while-you- read-in-a-comfy-chair-and-drink-tea-quilt than a bed quilt.  The pattern is a modified Chinese Coin pattern.

I love having that big table in the middle of my workspace.  And I love being able to leave fabric spread out on it so that I can come and piece little sections at a time when I have breaks in my day.

Strips in the works are hung from a piece of yarn hung across the window.  Back lit, I know. One of these days maybe I'll make a design wall.  These strips are looking more "Christmas-y red and green" than I wanted, but I'm thinking if I use a darker color, like maybe a chocolaty brown for the sashing, that will tone it down and make it rich.  We'll see.  For now, I'm enjoying watching these strips grow.

About those daffodils

Usually, I see them just barely poking their green tips out at the beginning of January.  I have to hunt for them under the oak leaves and it always gives me a little thrill on New Year's Day to see them.

This year, at the very beginning of the month of January, they were already several inches tall ...

and by the end of the month - crazy early - they were blooming!

I am not complaining. 

The Lenten roses are also beginning their show.

I was told they would spread ... and they have.  I love their glossy leaves and nodding blossoms.

You have to get down on your knees and look up to see the lovely markings and exotic looking flower parts inside.  Such quiet beauties.

And how about this gnarly looking chard plant going gangbusters out back.   Enjoy the sunshine now.  You're headed for soup soon. Something like this, maybe.

See, I told you I would write about daffodils and soup.
Tomorrow you get a dissection.
Cow eyeballs!
Betcha can't wait.

The longer you stay away ...

... the harder it is to come back.

A week or so ago, son #2 pointed out that I had been quite absent on the blog in the month of January.  He pulled up the archives and detailed the number of posts in 2007 (14), 2008 (14), 2009 (27!), 2010 (16), 2011 (23) and 2012 (3).  Clearly, 2012 has not started off as a wordy year here.

Seems that whenever I approach the computer to peck out a post, there are just more important things to do ... or that what I have to say just doesn't feel particularly compelling or blog-worthy.  I'm pretty sure most people who have written online feel that way at some point.

So, should I come back, I keep asking myself.

There are problems with blogging ...

I confess to wanting to brag a bit, especially when it comes to children and one little granddaughter.  I like to show you pretty things, especially if I made them or grew them; I like it when you say kind things in the comments or tell me you love my recipe or admire my quilt or agree with me in a nice way.  I like approval.  I want it.

I confess to self-consciousness.  The nature of a blog is narcissistic.  I say, "I did that.  I went there.  I thought that.  I made that." I talk about me.

I have a rather embarrassing memory of "show and tell" in the 3rd grade, when I didn't really have anything particular to show, so I "told" ... a longish and rather embellished version of a story with me as the main character.  To this day, I feel the third grade chagrin of being told that, though I didn't think I was finished with the story, my turn was over.  Please sit down.  I wanted to teacher to say, "How interesting!  Tell us more."  It's good for me she didn't.

Now, I am not that embellishing third grader anymore, but I have wondered sometimes if it isn't time for me to scuff back to my chair while someone who really has something to show and something to tell steps up to the front of the room.  There are plenty of wise, witty, creative, talented, thoughtful, bloggers out there who take amazing pictures and seem to be able to post enlightening, encouraging words every day with ease.  Let me step aside.

But wait ... though I know there are others far more polished, well written, beautiful, and interesting blogs than this one and thought I hate the narcissistic, bragging, selfish, people-pleasing tendencies in my heart, that's not why I write.  Fighting those self-seeking-sinful habits (let's call them what they are), I try to write to point to God.  The whole reason I started this little blog was to tell Ebenezer stories.

I still want to do that.  Perhaps, more than ever.  Perhaps, more than ever I, you, we need reminding that God leads - here, there, and everywhere, in the momentous, micro, and mundane.  My, our unembellished daily lives with their sometimes ordinary, sometimes stunning moments are full of Ebenezer stories.

Remember, back in January ... that last post almost a month ago ... I told you that I was camping out in the words of "Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing."  Well, for this whole month, I've been stuck on the phrase:

"tune my heart to sing thy grace,"

I haven't been able to get past it. At this rate, I won't make it through the song in a year!  I've sat outside every morning, turning that one line over and over and over in my head, because, well, I think my heart has needed a bit of tuning.  

Tuning to sing grace.

I'm still thinking about that and what it means for me personally.  But I'm ready to be back in this space ... to write about daffodils and dissections, soup and soccer, books and birthdays, cardinals and Clara and knitting and quilts and church and travels and friends and kids growing up and whatever else happens around here, because that's what I know ... and that's where I daily learn to see and sing the message of God's abundant grace.  As my friend Lisa said  just today, in reflecting on her own writing, "Take from it what you will."