daisies, computers and August

I am back!

And the well-known children's ditty, "She loves me, she loves me not" reverberates like echos off a canyon, with a slight alteration of......"I love it, I love it not." What else but my computer! We have this on again and off again relationship. But my son's good friend, whom I have watch grow up into a, now married, young man, is the definite man of the hour(s) . He has come to my rescue on many of an occasion. He is attempting to teach me how to handle these crises on my own, I must admit here I am helplessly inept. Thank you ____ and here's a little pocket change. We play a game. He initially refuses the money, but takes it with just a nudge of insistence.. Today, I heard he called my son and said, "Your mother paid me, let's go to lunch.... on me."



August......I love it, I love it not.

The extremely hot, humid weather, we refer to them as dog days; while this definitely conjures up imaginative mind pictures, it is, in fact, too good a word. This is the sort of weather that even an eight o'clock a.m. walk will leave you dripping wet! The cicada songs ring throughout the day, haunting almost. Expectations of new things to come tingling, just under the skin, yet we are holding onto every single moment.

We are not wanting to give up these happy, carefree days of summer.

Higgledly-Piggledly Bedroom

".....She had ended by desperately tackling the worst job of all, which was to put her bedroom in order.
This room, in spite of Mother's random efforts, had an obstinate habit of never being as neat and pretty-looking as she wished it to be. On the contrary it was always getting into a comfortable, higgledy-piggledly state"'.

Life With Father

Clarence Day

What appropriate words for describing the usual condition of my bedroom......"a comfortable, higgledy-piggledly state". And Saturday morning I found myself tackling the job of straightening and cleaning this room of my house, however unsuspectingly. Sometimes I find that might be the best way for me to handle such chores, matter of factly, caught unawares, and the chore becomes a driving force that can't be hampered come what may. Now as I breeze into my bedroom, order and neatness soothe me, and I am wondering why I allow it to get into that condition of dumping-grounds central in the first place.

I have read all manner of excerpts on how a bedroom may be a reflection of one's married life and the bedroom should be viewed as a haven, a restful abode, for a husband and wife. So while I believe that can be a desired goal to attain to, still I will maintain that the bottom line for me is the deep sighs of contentment I experience, on an entirely different plane, when the room is orderly and everything appears to be in its rightful place.

But I still very much like the delightful verbiage of "a higgledly-piggledy" state, so from this day forward I shall find special comfort to attribute to messiness, when my bedroom undoubtedly resorts back to its many layers of books and magazines, piles of ironing and standing ironing board, sewing and knitting supplies, sewing machine, etc., that have collected on the floor, dresser, chair or nightstands of my bedroom.

By the way, it appears my computer is in a state of its own.......woebegone. I plan to call my computer friend tomorrow because he has a way to help me through these woes. I am using Alan's laptop to make this post, one that I had hoped to do yesterday, and for that reason I do not have pictures to download of my neat and pretty-looking bedroom.

Tomatoes

What's making me happy these days?

All I can eat vine-ripened tomatoes.

Especially as they sunbathe in the kitchen's morning sunlight.

A reflection of my packed life

A world of possibilities await me every morning. Yet I find myself secure and thinking how my life is, in a understated word, full; not unlike a lovely packed suitcase with separate compartments, filled with all potential necessities.

The ages of my children run over a span of twenty years. My firstborn son arrived in 1982, my second son in 1988, and the girls followed in 1996 and 2003, respectively. Charlotte was born four days before my twenty-fifth anniversary. We call her the "old egg" anniversary gift.

All my children are in a different stage of life and I find myself being needed in a wide range of different ways. Witt as a young adult, meets with me every Wednesday afternoon at four o'clock. We read the Word, pray and talk about his life, his future, his likes and dislikes. It also is an accountability check for him. This appointment is set on my calendar and I will do everything within my power not to change it, if the time needs to be altered, I will rearrange my schedule to fit what works for him.

Alan is in the process of transferring to another college. We are spending time visiting schools, reviewing and changing what we thought was going to be and finding out that is not the best for him right now. It is definitely a stayed tuned kind of operation at the present time.

Rose is 13, an older child, and a budding young lady. Everything that comes with this age is on center stage in full living color every day. She is at one edge of the spectrum, I'm am at the other. We coexist together beautifully, where love and grace covers a multitude of areas.

Then there is Charlotte. A six year old smack dab in the middle of fascinating childhood. She is capable of bringing me back to reality and revealing to me what is truly important in life and family. Because face it, these days pass entirely too quickly and I have proof that they grow up. I hold her tightly enough, literally too snug at times, but all within the realm of healthy allowance to encourage her growth in wisdom, statue and favor with God and man.

I love my life.

"Behold, I and the children whom the LORD has given me..." Isaiah 8:18

Felt Cookies

I call this child's play. A deep need of such play may grab me at any time and the results may be diverse. For me, recently, this need was nurtured in the making of these cookies. Indescribable fun I had in creating them from felt, embroidery floss and buttons.

Charlotte's imagination is running helter and skelter with a list of food items she now wants me to make for her from felt. The sky is the limit, and all the food stuff in between heaven and earth is just waiting for play days of happy hand stitching.

And yes, since you said please, you may have a cookie.

late July prosperity

The mornings are darker now that July is fading into its last full week. I arise early and as Hannah Whitall Smith pens so eloquently, "And He said such delightful things, that to find them out became my supreme delight."

His Word is the best place to start my day. I am on a treasure hunt every morning.

Basketmaking has me in its grips. This basket especially is a favorite of mine. I call it my "Dorothy" basket, except I carry my knitting around in it instead of Toto.


By rule of thumb in my garden, basil is not usually potted, but put into the ground where it can stretch its roots down deep into the soil. But I had an extra basil plant this year and no where to put it so I decided I would plop it into a clay pot with some oregano. I zap it from time to time with just a small dilution of Miracle Gro. It prospers. Just as I desire my life in Jesus to prosper when I feed it.

Enjoy your weekend!

Romance

Even the starts and stops of the heavy, late afternoon traffic as we headed out on the highway this evening was able to stifle any ceremony of us being together......on a date. I wore a fuchsia linen dress, and dangling earrings with pink stones hung from my ears. The earrings that I had informed the girls in the past that I "never wear" because, frankly, they hurt my ears. Of course, that was the first thing Charlotte commented on when she saw me walk out the door. But I wore them anyway. I was in a dangly earring sort of mood. A black shawl was carried on my arm because one can always expect cold air conditioned restaurants in the south on summer evenings.

Before pulling out of our driveway, I asked him if he minded if I knitted on the way, which amounted to an hours drive before reaching our destination. He looked at me, smiled and said, "Go get your knitting". He drove, I knitted, we talked, the romance of another hour with my husband.

As we sat side by side in the dimly lit restaurant, the minutes were absorbed into thin air and we succumbed to being just us, a couple. This is the way I have always heard it should be.

"For once I can touch what my heart used to dream of,
Long before I knew someone warm like you
Could make my dreams come true."

Vegetable and Fruit Expansion

"I expand and live in the warm day like corn and melons".
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Rose with Zealand

A stallion foal was born at the farm where Rose takes her weekly riding lesson. He is a blaze by genetics, she is ablazed by proximity and touch. Who might be enjoying this moment the most?

Mops, Goggles and Books

First we clean

And then we swim.




The girls were eager to help clean this morning if swimming would be their deserved reward this hot, humid afternoon.



And for me, some poolside reading. I enjoy reading historical fiction from time to time. The King's Chronicles series by Lynn Austin is fitting the bill this summer.

Waiting for Miss Right

A letter came in the mail today. It was from a good friend who spends summers on a lake in Canada. How I enjoyed reading her letter with its beautiful calligraphic handwriting. Her statuesque 5'11'' daughter has started dating my handsome 6'3'' son. We say very little about this relationship in deference to our grown children. But we are smiling all under.



A violin that sits in a living room cabinet tells a story from my son's past. It was a gift from a girl that would sit on my bedroom floor and talk to me for long stretches of time. I liked the candor of this young woman. There have been others through the years.

With diligence I continue to pray.