The youngest just inadvertently came up with the perfect mascot for our little school...
We were discussing comparing what we hear around us with what the Bible says. I told the kids that this is what the Bereans did in Acts 17:11 - "...they received the word with all eagerness, examining the Scriptures daily to see if these things were so." (ESV)
After a bit more chatter about the Scriptures of that time being the Old Testament, the youngest came out with something that the "Burritos" did. And then, with a sly smile that betrayed his wit, he said, "What? Is that not what they were called? What was it then?"
We all had a good laugh and I declared that we would, henceforth, have "Burritos" as our school mascot.
Monday, December 14, 2015
Tuesday, November 17, 2015
When you're just not sure
When the world seems to be spinning out of control and you don't know what to think, remember these simple words:
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.
(Mt 22:37)
Love you neighbour as yourself.
(Mt 22:38)
If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn't do it, it is sin for them.
(Ja 4:17)
And go from there.
You are responsible for the choices you make and the actions you take. Take these verses to heart and make good decisions.
Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.
(Mt 22:37)
Love you neighbour as yourself.
(Mt 22:38)
If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn't do it, it is sin for them.
(Ja 4:17)
And go from there.
You are responsible for the choices you make and the actions you take. Take these verses to heart and make good decisions.
Friday, November 6, 2015
Because I want to remember the silliness, too
7:30 am
The girl: "I think it's one of those days where I just want to make a lot of noise all the time."
She's singing random syllables to the tune of "On Top of Old Smokey" now.
It's going to be an interesting morning.
8:45 am
More from the girl...
She: Propaganda!
Me: Did you just say, "Propaganda!"
She: Yep!
Me: Why?
She: I don't know... It just came into my head, and I was pretty sure it was a real word, so I said it.
Me: Did you just say, "Propaganda!"
She: Yep!
Me: Why?
She: I don't know... It just came into my head, and I was pretty sure it was a real word, so I said it.
Now she's singing, "Wise men say only fools rush in..."
It's not even 9:00 am, people.
It's not even 9:00 am, people.
11:15 am
As I'm getting leftover pizza out to put in the oven...
The girl sniffs: I love today! It smells so good.
11:50 am
To herself: Thank you.
To herself: Thank you for thanking me.
To herself: Thank you for thanking me for thanking you.
To herself: Thank you for thanking me for thanking you for thanking me for thanking you for thanking me for thanking you.
To herself: Ahh, I'm so confused.
~
I'm sure this will be continued...
~
I'm sure this will be continued...
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
No time
This is the most challenging idea that I've confronted myself with lately.
I've been mulling it over for a few weeks and I'm writing about it now so that I will remember it. This *new concept will likely challenge you, too.
*Okay, it's not really that new. But it's kind of rocked my world, so bear with me in my use of superlatives.
I must warn you though:
If you like telling people how busy you are and that you just can't make time to do other things, please don't read this. You can't unread this once it's read.
There's no turning back.
Okay, you asked for it.
~
Lately I've been telling people that the biggest lie on the internet is, "Yes; I have read and agree to the Terms and Conditions..." Ever since I realized this, I make an effort to read the terms and conditions of whatever it is I'm agreeing to, or at least look to see what changes have been made from last time. My guess is that we all do it, without even realizing that we are lying.
Well, I've got another one for you. One that matters a little more.
Yesterday, another oft-told lie sneaked up and punched me in the face.
"I just don't have time..."
How many times have you uttered that phrase? Once? Once a day? Five times a day? I have caught myself saying that more than once recently, to explain why something didn't get done. And it's a LIE!
Before I explain, I think it's important to re-introduce myself to you (just in case you've forgotten):
I'm a middle-aged, stay-at-home, homeschooling mother of three pre-teen/teens. My husband sacrifices his time by working a challenging, and at times stressful, job so that we can all enjoy the luxury that a stay-at-home parent affords. Therefore, I generally try to stay on top of household chores, keeping the house moderately presentable while also teaching the children and taxiing them around to different activities. I also volunteer in several capacities through church and homeschool groups. In short, I have a good excuse for saying I'm too busy to do something or to say that something didn't get done because I didn't have the time. But to say so would be a LIE.
When my husband comes home and asks if I called to schedule the oil change, I might answer, "Oh shoot, I was too busy," or "Nope; I just didn't have time today." But that's a LIE.
I have 24 hours in a day just the same as you. I can choose to spend that time eating candy or chopping veggies or reading a school book to the kids or making phone calls or lesson planning or sleeping or cleaning or playing games or raking leaves or making lists or marking tests or updating computer files... The possibilities are nearly endless. So when I say that I didn't have time, what I really mean, and what I need to start saying, is that I didn't MAKE the time.
Let me reiterate - If I don't get something done, it's not that I don't have the time to do it; it's that I didn't choose to make the time to do it. I am, in effect, saying that what I DIDN'T do wasn't as important as all the other things I did do today.
Can we agree to stare our own laziness in the face? Let's try to stop saying, "I didn't have time," and start saying, "I didn't make the time." It really is the more honest way of expressing ourselves and taking ownership of the choices that we make, whether done with full awareness or merely subconsciously.
And with that I need to log off... I still need to schedule that oil change.
~
P.S. I'm adding this a few hours later to mention that saying, "No" is a very good thing sometimes. We just need to understand that when we say "No, I don't have time" "we are really saying, "No, I choose not to make time for that because I have other priorities at the moment." Sometimes we have to choose not to make time for really good things.
Time and money are both precious commodities. Just like we can't give our money to every good cause, we also can't give our time to every good cause. We have to choose which cause is most important to us. And just like money is used to purchase items that fuel us, our time is also spent on refueling ourselves.
I've been mulling it over for a few weeks and I'm writing about it now so that I will remember it. This *new concept will likely challenge you, too.
*Okay, it's not really that new. But it's kind of rocked my world, so bear with me in my use of superlatives.
I must warn you though:
If you like telling people how busy you are and that you just can't make time to do other things, please don't read this. You can't unread this once it's read.
There's no turning back.
Okay, you asked for it.
~
Lately I've been telling people that the biggest lie on the internet is, "Yes; I have read and agree to the Terms and Conditions..." Ever since I realized this, I make an effort to read the terms and conditions of whatever it is I'm agreeing to, or at least look to see what changes have been made from last time. My guess is that we all do it, without even realizing that we are lying.
Well, I've got another one for you. One that matters a little more.
Yesterday, another oft-told lie sneaked up and punched me in the face.
"I just don't have time..."
How many times have you uttered that phrase? Once? Once a day? Five times a day? I have caught myself saying that more than once recently, to explain why something didn't get done. And it's a LIE!
Before I explain, I think it's important to re-introduce myself to you (just in case you've forgotten):
I'm a middle-aged, stay-at-home, homeschooling mother of three pre-teen/teens. My husband sacrifices his time by working a challenging, and at times stressful, job so that we can all enjoy the luxury that a stay-at-home parent affords. Therefore, I generally try to stay on top of household chores, keeping the house moderately presentable while also teaching the children and taxiing them around to different activities. I also volunteer in several capacities through church and homeschool groups. In short, I have a good excuse for saying I'm too busy to do something or to say that something didn't get done because I didn't have the time. But to say so would be a LIE.
When my husband comes home and asks if I called to schedule the oil change, I might answer, "Oh shoot, I was too busy," or "Nope; I just didn't have time today." But that's a LIE.
I have 24 hours in a day just the same as you. I can choose to spend that time eating candy or chopping veggies or reading a school book to the kids or making phone calls or lesson planning or sleeping or cleaning or playing games or raking leaves or making lists or marking tests or updating computer files... The possibilities are nearly endless. So when I say that I didn't have time, what I really mean, and what I need to start saying, is that I didn't MAKE the time.
Let me reiterate - If I don't get something done, it's not that I don't have the time to do it; it's that I didn't choose to make the time to do it. I am, in effect, saying that what I DIDN'T do wasn't as important as all the other things I did do today.
Can we agree to stare our own laziness in the face? Let's try to stop saying, "I didn't have time," and start saying, "I didn't make the time." It really is the more honest way of expressing ourselves and taking ownership of the choices that we make, whether done with full awareness or merely subconsciously.
And with that I need to log off... I still need to schedule that oil change.
~
P.S. I'm adding this a few hours later to mention that saying, "No" is a very good thing sometimes. We just need to understand that when we say "No, I don't have time" "we are really saying, "No, I choose not to make time for that because I have other priorities at the moment." Sometimes we have to choose not to make time for really good things.
Time and money are both precious commodities. Just like we can't give our money to every good cause, we also can't give our time to every good cause. We have to choose which cause is most important to us. And just like money is used to purchase items that fuel us, our time is also spent on refueling ourselves.
Monday, September 14, 2015
On procrastinating
Mom: Have you guys studied for your tests yet?
Girl: Yes
Boy: Yes
Other Boy: *silence*
Mom to other boy: Are you procrastinating?
Other boy: I haven't yet, but I'm going to!
As the rest of us giggle: Wait, what does "procrastinate" mean?
Girl: Yes
Boy: Yes
Other Boy: *silence*
Mom to other boy: Are you procrastinating?
Other boy: I haven't yet, but I'm going to!
As the rest of us giggle: Wait, what does "procrastinate" mean?
Tomato Skills
~
Do you have tomatoes skills?
Yes.
On a scale of 1 to 10, how are your tomato skills?
13.
That's impossible.
No, it's not. I have great tomato skills.
What kind of tomato skills do you have?
All of them.
Which skill are you best at?
All of them.
Do you know what tomato skills are?
Being skilled at tomatoes.
I don't think you know what tomato skills are. I'm very good at two of them.
I'm a master in three skills. Grape tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, and yellow tomatoes.
That's not tomato skills. That's naming tomatoes. Well, I'm good at picking tomatoes and eating tomatoes.
I'm good at those AND at planting tomatoes, weeding tomatoes, and looking at tomatoes. I've named a tomato "Bob." Have you?
Yes.
I've named a tomato "Joe." Have you?
No.
I've named a tomato "Kevin." Have you?
Yes.
I've named a tomato "Bacon." Have you?
No. But I've named a tomato "Stuart" because I'm very good at naming tomatoes. Did you know that Stuart has a magma gun?
A lava gun?
No a magma gun.
It's the same thing.
No, it's not.
No, you're wrong.
Nope, nope, nope...
Friday, September 11, 2015
Let justice roll
 |
| Image of a USA Stamp, photo taken by Thomas E. Franklin |
The hardest moment came minutes after the discussion was over, when my girl asked, "Wouldn't they have seen a plane near the building and been able stop it?" Like a sad movie ending, this one didn't make sense to her.
These moments make my heart hurt, but I am encouraged all the same. I will only become disheartened when we are no longer affected by such things.
One day, justice will roll.
Until then, we love as Jesus loved.
Monday, August 31, 2015
Acknowledging That ALL Lives Matter
(You may find something that you disagree with here. If you do, it's fine to share your opinion, but please do so in a kind way that promotes conversation instead of shutting it down.)
~
Darren Goforth, a 47 year old man who had been a police officer for 10 years was killed this weekend. Reports say that it appears to have been an unprovoked attack, simply because Goforth was in a cop's uniform. Josh Feldman writes:
The sheriff said the attack “strikes at the heart of law enforcement” and noted the “very dangerous national rhetoric that’s out there today.” And when it gets to a point where cops are being assassinated, he said, this rhetoric is “out of control.” “We’ve heard black lives matter,” he said, “all lives matter, well, cops’ lives matter too. So why don’t we drop the qualifier and just say ‘lives matter’ and take that to the bank?”
I'm glad you asked. I'll tell you why.
Black lives matter.
Women's lives matter.
Men's lives matter.
Cops' lives matter.
Babies' lives matter.
Indigenous people's lives matter.
All lives matter.
Saying any one of these things doesn't preclude the others; it merely speaks to a problem that the speaker sees in front of them.
Cancer is a horrible illness.
ALS is a horrible illness.
Parkinson's is a horrible illness.
MS is a horrible illness.
All illnesses are horrible illnesses.
Saying any one of these things doesn't preclude the others, it merely speaks to a problem the speaker sees in front of them.
If someone says to you, "Black lives matter," don't respond with "All lives matter." You wouldn't react that way to a cancer patient. Imagine that conversation...
~
"Cancer is a horrible illness."
"Stop saying that! All illnesses are horrible. Can't we accept that ALS and MS are bad too? My Grandma has Parkinson's and Lewy Body Disease. Why are you going on and on about your cancer all the time? Can't you acknowledge my Grandma?"
~
No one says that. That would be incredible hurtful to the person walking through everything involved in dealing with cancer.
Cancer is horrible.
Dementia is horrible.
MS is horrible.
All illness is horrible
Black lives matter.
Cops' lives matter.
Babies' lives matter.
All lives matter.
When someone kills a police officer because of the "Black Lives Matter" campaign/rhetoric, that person clearly does not understand that ALL lives matter. It is good and important to remind the world that ALL lives matter. It is also good to tell our stories about why individual groups of people's lives matter. That's how we are able to understand the world around us. Asking us to remove the qualifier negates many conversations that could be had, conversations that would allow us to understand each other better.
So, yes, "Lives Matter." ALL lives matter.
There will always be evil around us. The way we discuss life, with its good and bad, forms the framework for how we act and react. The man who killed the police officer clearly did not understand that all lives matter. Have that conversation with people if you haven't. It's a good and important comversation to have.
And when someone tells you that a specific life matters, please listen. There just might be a reason they're feeling that way.
(Inspired by a June 20, 2015 Facebook post by Jamie-Grace Harper. Spurred on by a quotation from Sheriff Ron Hickman.)
~
Darren Goforth, a 47 year old man who had been a police officer for 10 years was killed this weekend. Reports say that it appears to have been an unprovoked attack, simply because Goforth was in a cop's uniform. Josh Feldman writes:
The sheriff said the attack “strikes at the heart of law enforcement” and noted the “very dangerous national rhetoric that’s out there today.” And when it gets to a point where cops are being assassinated, he said, this rhetoric is “out of control.” “We’ve heard black lives matter,” he said, “all lives matter, well, cops’ lives matter too. So why don’t we drop the qualifier and just say ‘lives matter’ and take that to the bank?”
 |
| Photo courtesy of Fox News |
I'm glad you asked. I'll tell you why.
Black lives matter.
Women's lives matter.
Men's lives matter.
Cops' lives matter.
Babies' lives matter.
Indigenous people's lives matter.
All lives matter.
Saying any one of these things doesn't preclude the others; it merely speaks to a problem that the speaker sees in front of them.
Cancer is a horrible illness.
ALS is a horrible illness.
Parkinson's is a horrible illness.
MS is a horrible illness.
All illnesses are horrible illnesses.
Saying any one of these things doesn't preclude the others, it merely speaks to a problem the speaker sees in front of them.
If someone says to you, "Black lives matter," don't respond with "All lives matter." You wouldn't react that way to a cancer patient. Imagine that conversation...
~
"Cancer is a horrible illness."
"Stop saying that! All illnesses are horrible. Can't we accept that ALS and MS are bad too? My Grandma has Parkinson's and Lewy Body Disease. Why are you going on and on about your cancer all the time? Can't you acknowledge my Grandma?"
~
No one says that. That would be incredible hurtful to the person walking through everything involved in dealing with cancer.
Cancer is horrible.
Dementia is horrible.
MS is horrible.
All illness is horrible
Black lives matter.
Cops' lives matter.
Babies' lives matter.
All lives matter.
When someone kills a police officer because of the "Black Lives Matter" campaign/rhetoric, that person clearly does not understand that ALL lives matter. It is good and important to remind the world that ALL lives matter. It is also good to tell our stories about why individual groups of people's lives matter. That's how we are able to understand the world around us. Asking us to remove the qualifier negates many conversations that could be had, conversations that would allow us to understand each other better.
So, yes, "Lives Matter." ALL lives matter.
There will always be evil around us. The way we discuss life, with its good and bad, forms the framework for how we act and react. The man who killed the police officer clearly did not understand that all lives matter. Have that conversation with people if you haven't. It's a good and important comversation to have.
And when someone tells you that a specific life matters, please listen. There just might be a reason they're feeling that way.
(Inspired by a June 20, 2015 Facebook post by Jamie-Grace Harper. Spurred on by a quotation from Sheriff Ron Hickman.)
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Glazed Vanilla Bean Scones
This is a fully-bad-for-you, totally-indulgent, not-healthy recipe, so any Paleo or gluten-free diet people can just read for funny comments, drool, and move on. The rest of you should just go ahead and print this one off because you're going to be the hit of the next pot luck with this recipe.
Vanilla Bean Scones
Scone Ingredients:
2 vanilla beans
3/4 cup heavy cream
3 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cups granulated sugar
2 Tablespoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup butter, chilled and cut into small cubes
1 egg
Glaze Ingredients:
1 vanilla bean
1/4 cup half and half cream
5-6 Tbsp milk
3 cups icing sugar, sifted
Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
Split 2 vanilla beans lengthwise down the middle and scrape out the goodness, stirring it into cream. Let it all blend together like wide-eyed freshman at a school mixer, for 15 minutes. (Do they still have school mixers these days?)
Sift together the flour, granulated sugar, baking powder, and salt. Incorporate the butter into the dry ingredients using a pastry blender or your fingertips until the mixture resembles a coarse meal.
Add egg to cream mixture, then add to the flour mixture; stir with a wooden spoon until all comes together.
Put down parchment paper and form dough into a rectangle on paper. Cover with another sheet of parchment paper and roll the dough until it is about 1/2 inch thick.
Cut dough into 12 -16 even rectangles. Cut those rectangles in half diagonally. Put on a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake for 12-18 minutes, just until the edges are barely browned. (Cooking time varies greatly depending on size.)
Let scones cool for at least 30 minutes before you attempt to glaze them.
To make the glaze: Split the remaining vanilla bean in half lengthwise and scrape out the goodness. Stir the vanilla bean goo into cream and milk; let it mingle like singles at a speed dating dinner for about 15 minutes. (That doesn't even make sense. If they're speed dating, don't they jump around from person to person within a matter or a couple minutes or so? I don't know; I've never speed dated.) Whisk the milk mixture with the icing sugar until smooth.
When scones are as cold as a polar bear's toe nails (or, really, room temperature would do just fine), baptize those scones until they are fully immersed. After it's had a chance to drip dry, put each scone on a cooling/drying rack for speedier drying. (Speedier drying means speedier eating.)
Let scones sit for about an hour before you indulge. They taste best fully drip-dried.
Sources say these scones will last for several days if placed in a dry, sealed container, but we've never had them last that long.
Makes 24-32 scones.
Vanilla Bean Scones
Scone Ingredients:
2 vanilla beans
3/4 cup heavy cream
3 cups all-purpose flour
2/3 cups granulated sugar
2 Tablespoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup butter, chilled and cut into small cubes
1 egg
Glaze Ingredients:
1 vanilla bean
1/4 cup half and half cream
5-6 Tbsp milk
3 cups icing sugar, sifted
Heat oven to 350 degrees F.
Split 2 vanilla beans lengthwise down the middle and scrape out the goodness, stirring it into cream. Let it all blend together like wide-eyed freshman at a school mixer, for 15 minutes. (Do they still have school mixers these days?)
Sift together the flour, granulated sugar, baking powder, and salt. Incorporate the butter into the dry ingredients using a pastry blender or your fingertips until the mixture resembles a coarse meal.
Add egg to cream mixture, then add to the flour mixture; stir with a wooden spoon until all comes together.
Put down parchment paper and form dough into a rectangle on paper. Cover with another sheet of parchment paper and roll the dough until it is about 1/2 inch thick.
Cut dough into 12 -16 even rectangles. Cut those rectangles in half diagonally. Put on a parchment-lined baking sheet and bake for 12-18 minutes, just until the edges are barely browned. (Cooking time varies greatly depending on size.)
Let scones cool for at least 30 minutes before you attempt to glaze them.
To make the glaze: Split the remaining vanilla bean in half lengthwise and scrape out the goodness. Stir the vanilla bean goo into cream and milk; let it mingle like singles at a speed dating dinner for about 15 minutes. (That doesn't even make sense. If they're speed dating, don't they jump around from person to person within a matter or a couple minutes or so? I don't know; I've never speed dated.) Whisk the milk mixture with the icing sugar until smooth.
When scones are as cold as a polar bear's toe nails (or, really, room temperature would do just fine), baptize those scones until they are fully immersed. After it's had a chance to drip dry, put each scone on a cooling/drying rack for speedier drying. (Speedier drying means speedier eating.)
Let scones sit for about an hour before you indulge. They taste best fully drip-dried.
Sources say these scones will last for several days if placed in a dry, sealed container, but we've never had them last that long.
Makes 24-32 scones.
Monday, August 24, 2015
Paleo "I'll have another" Choco-Peanut-Butter Bites
"Mom, can I have another one of those little circle things?"
I just made these... No sugar, but so tasty, as evidence by the quote above, just spoken 10 seconds ago by my girl.
Peanut Butter Brownie Balls
Ingredients:
1/2 cup dates
1 cup ground almonds
2T cocoa powder
1/4 cup natural peanut butter
Instructions
Add hot water to dates and let them sit for 5-10 minutes.
Have a coffee or tea. Brush up on your Latin and Greek. Play Candy Crush and Farmville.
Drain the water from the dates.
Place all ingredients in a small food processor and process for 30 -60 seconds or until the dates are smooth and incorporated.
Roll into balls and try not to eat them all at once.
Have no guilt because that was a guilt-free treat!
Thank your friend, Wanda Whoopie-Cushion.
I just made these... No sugar, but so tasty, as evidence by the quote above, just spoken 10 seconds ago by my girl.
 |
| "Mom, can I have another one of those little circle things?" |
Peanut Butter Brownie Balls
Ingredients:
1/2 cup dates
1 cup ground almonds
2T cocoa powder
1/4 cup natural peanut butter
Instructions
Add hot water to dates and let them sit for 5-10 minutes.
Have a coffee or tea. Brush up on your Latin and Greek. Play Candy Crush and Farmville.
Drain the water from the dates.
Place all ingredients in a small food processor and process for 30 -60 seconds or until the dates are smooth and incorporated.
Roll into balls and try not to eat them all at once.
Have no guilt because that was a guilt-free treat!
Thank your friend, Wanda Whoopie-Cushion.
Friday, July 17, 2015
How to Get a Free Gigantor Hot Fudge Sundae, in 16 Easy Steps
How to Get a Free Gigantor Hot Fudge Sundae, in 16 Easy Steps
1. Meet a boy.
2. Decide he's cute.
3. Make sure he thinks you're cute.
4. Invite him to see The Lost World with your youth group.
5. Wait for him at the back of the theatre since he said he'd be late coming from his softball game.
6. End up sitting next to him since your youth group saved seats next to each other for you.
7. Realize that you are both slightly obsessed with John Williams' music.
8. Get engaged a year later.
9. Pick up a coupon somewhere along the way for a free small sundae from McDonald's.
10. Get married 14 months and 2 days after you got engaged.
11. After you leave your wedding reception, stop at McDonald's before you get to the hotel.
12. Drive up to the speaker, tell them you have a coupon and place your order.
13. Before pulling forward, tell them that you just got married that day and ask if they can give you some extra chocolate sauce.
14. Present your coupon.
15. Collect your Gigantor Sundae that has been made in a large soft drink cup.
16. Drive away celebrating.
~
Happy 16th Anniversary of getting that Gigantor Sundae, Aaron. Here's to many more!
1. Meet a boy.
2. Decide he's cute.
3. Make sure he thinks you're cute.
4. Invite him to see The Lost World with your youth group.
5. Wait for him at the back of the theatre since he said he'd be late coming from his softball game.
6. End up sitting next to him since your youth group saved seats next to each other for you.
7. Realize that you are both slightly obsessed with John Williams' music.
8. Get engaged a year later.
9. Pick up a coupon somewhere along the way for a free small sundae from McDonald's.
10. Get married 14 months and 2 days after you got engaged.
11. After you leave your wedding reception, stop at McDonald's before you get to the hotel.
12. Drive up to the speaker, tell them you have a coupon and place your order.
13. Before pulling forward, tell them that you just got married that day and ask if they can give you some extra chocolate sauce.
14. Present your coupon.
15. Collect your Gigantor Sundae that has been made in a large soft drink cup.
16. Drive away celebrating.
~
Happy 16th Anniversary of getting that Gigantor Sundae, Aaron. Here's to many more!
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
A Pictureless Picture-Perfect Day
I took so many mental snapshots today. The pull to run off and grab my camera was real. I stayed in the moment and saw this...
~
Picture this:
Around 11:30 this morning, there was a red picnic blanket spread out in my backyard under my black maple tree, green grass sprawling beyond the blanket's reach. A cornucopia of lunch was spread out in the centre of the blanket... Chips, salsa, sour cream, salmon, crackers, cucumbers, peanuts, and of course some napkins to mop up the inevitable mess. A couple lunch bags had been placed down as well, for the young cousins who were joining us today. Gathered around the perimeter of the picnic blanket were five smiley, sweaty kids, hungry from a morning of playing together, connected by genetics, but bound by their obvious love for each other. Older kids helped younger kids open juice boxes and younger kids gabbed away about their morning together, punctuating the tales with unbridled giggles.
Bellies and hearts were filled. It was picture-perfect.
~
Picture this:
This evening, after a raucous dinner, our family of five headed out to the ball diamond behind our house. I stayed behind to wipe up the counter while the kids and Dad got the ball gear out. When I peeked my head out of the gate, I saw two brothers, one wearing the baseball mitt he got for his birthday last year, the other beaming with joy that he finally got to try out his brand new mitt, the one Dad just got him a week ago. The two brothers were throwing the ball back and forth. The older one caught it nine times out of ten, the younger one leapt for it but missed often. About 15 paces beside them were dad and daughter, also throwing the ball back and forth. The girl took a step and threw the ball. It arced beautifully in the sky and landed in Dad's glove. He threw it back. She took a protective (albeit unnecessary) step back as it bounced where she stood two seconds earlier. I walked over to join in on the fun and caught several fly balls off Dad's bat.
The fun of sport and family togetherness was exhilarating. It, too, was picture-perfect.
~
Blogs look so much nicer with colourful pictures to draw you in. I was greedy and kept the pictures to myself today, savouring the moments instead of running off to grab the camera. I don't, most days. But then, the memories just aren't as meaningful because I wasn't in them.
Here's to being in the memories a little more these days.
~
Picture this:
Around 11:30 this morning, there was a red picnic blanket spread out in my backyard under my black maple tree, green grass sprawling beyond the blanket's reach. A cornucopia of lunch was spread out in the centre of the blanket... Chips, salsa, sour cream, salmon, crackers, cucumbers, peanuts, and of course some napkins to mop up the inevitable mess. A couple lunch bags had been placed down as well, for the young cousins who were joining us today. Gathered around the perimeter of the picnic blanket were five smiley, sweaty kids, hungry from a morning of playing together, connected by genetics, but bound by their obvious love for each other. Older kids helped younger kids open juice boxes and younger kids gabbed away about their morning together, punctuating the tales with unbridled giggles.
Bellies and hearts were filled. It was picture-perfect.
~
Picture this:
This evening, after a raucous dinner, our family of five headed out to the ball diamond behind our house. I stayed behind to wipe up the counter while the kids and Dad got the ball gear out. When I peeked my head out of the gate, I saw two brothers, one wearing the baseball mitt he got for his birthday last year, the other beaming with joy that he finally got to try out his brand new mitt, the one Dad just got him a week ago. The two brothers were throwing the ball back and forth. The older one caught it nine times out of ten, the younger one leapt for it but missed often. About 15 paces beside them were dad and daughter, also throwing the ball back and forth. The girl took a step and threw the ball. It arced beautifully in the sky and landed in Dad's glove. He threw it back. She took a protective (albeit unnecessary) step back as it bounced where she stood two seconds earlier. I walked over to join in on the fun and caught several fly balls off Dad's bat.
The fun of sport and family togetherness was exhilarating. It, too, was picture-perfect.
~
Blogs look so much nicer with colourful pictures to draw you in. I was greedy and kept the pictures to myself today, savouring the moments instead of running off to grab the camera. I don't, most days. But then, the memories just aren't as meaningful because I wasn't in them.
Here's to being in the memories a little more these days.
Monday, May 4, 2015
Gardening: A Modern Day Parable
It is finally warm enough for me to think about planting little seedlings in my garden - tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, basil, squash...
However, I've realized that I don't have enough room for all the vegetation that I want to plant. In order to make room, I've had to look at my yard through fresh eyes.
I have a patch on the west side of my yard that has clematis, day lilies, violets, a rain barrel, and some unknown plants (which I used to think were violets.) Day lilies and violets, while pretty, will not feed my family. They grow and spread and grow more little plants which only take up room. That is room where I could instead grow squash and lettuce and broccoli and anything else that the animals don't eat.
So I put on my gloves, put on my gardening shoes, and went out to tackle the patch that needed to be transformed. The day lilies left a few days ago (thanks to a collaborative effort from my family) so all I had left to do was get rid of the violets. As I pulled the violets, I remembered that they weren't all violets. In fact, most of the green leaves and roots that I was pulling out came from an unidentified plant that I once thought was a violet. I let it stay, thinking that it was a heartier violet but, alas, it has crept in and choked out most of the violets. (I shall henceforth call these plants "The Little Deceivers.")
I also noticed that my neighbour's orange poppies had crept over to my side. While they were beautiful, they won't be tasty on our dinner table, so they had to go as well.
As I pulled and yanked and lifted those unwanted plants from my garden, I made sure to leave as much of the soil as I could. Unwanted plants are harder to remove when you have that heavy soil, the soil that is supposed to stay in the garden, clinging to them.
I thought of the bind-weed that we used to have running through our yard. It was all through one section of the garden and I just ignored it. It spread to the grass and we mowed it down. It reached our second garden. That's when we started to really try to tackle it. We got most of it but every so often, I see a vine creeping out of the ground, trying to twist its tendrils around my tomato plants. But I have spent so much time getting that weed out of my garden, and I have spent so many years looking at that weed, that I know what it looks like and I know that I don't want it around any longer.
There's this one section of the garden that continues to harbour a bind-weed root. I let that bind-weed grow for so long that the root is too deep for me to totally eradicate it. So, I watch for that weed, knowing that as soon as I see its ugly fingers, I'll give it a good yank and toss it with all the other weeds... Far away from my garden.
I've not ever thought of myself as a good gardener, and I certainly don't consider myself to be an expert (not yet, at least) but as I see the results of pulling those unwanted plants so that I can plant things that will nourish my family, I am encouraged to stick with it.
I know that I didn't get all the violets' and Little Deceivers' roots. But when they start to grown in my garden, I know what to look for. It's easier to recognize weeds when I've planted good strong, nourishing food in that soil. Some weeds will poke through tentatively while others will unabashedly break through and try to set up shop in my garden. No more. They are not welcome. Recognizing that you have a weed problem is one thing. Resolving to do something about it is another. I think that it's only once you have good plants in place of the weeds that you actually realize how much life and nourishment the weeds were preventing.
Now go - Pull your weeds and plant nourishing vegetation that will be good and useful to you and your family.
~
(Lest I leave anyone confused, go back and replace any reference to "unwanted weeds" with the word "sin.")
However, I've realized that I don't have enough room for all the vegetation that I want to plant. In order to make room, I've had to look at my yard through fresh eyes.
So I put on my gloves, put on my gardening shoes, and went out to tackle the patch that needed to be transformed. The day lilies left a few days ago (thanks to a collaborative effort from my family) so all I had left to do was get rid of the violets. As I pulled the violets, I remembered that they weren't all violets. In fact, most of the green leaves and roots that I was pulling out came from an unidentified plant that I once thought was a violet. I let it stay, thinking that it was a heartier violet but, alas, it has crept in and choked out most of the violets. (I shall henceforth call these plants "The Little Deceivers.")
I also noticed that my neighbour's orange poppies had crept over to my side. While they were beautiful, they won't be tasty on our dinner table, so they had to go as well.
As I pulled and yanked and lifted those unwanted plants from my garden, I made sure to leave as much of the soil as I could. Unwanted plants are harder to remove when you have that heavy soil, the soil that is supposed to stay in the garden, clinging to them.
I thought of the bind-weed that we used to have running through our yard. It was all through one section of the garden and I just ignored it. It spread to the grass and we mowed it down. It reached our second garden. That's when we started to really try to tackle it. We got most of it but every so often, I see a vine creeping out of the ground, trying to twist its tendrils around my tomato plants. But I have spent so much time getting that weed out of my garden, and I have spent so many years looking at that weed, that I know what it looks like and I know that I don't want it around any longer.
There's this one section of the garden that continues to harbour a bind-weed root. I let that bind-weed grow for so long that the root is too deep for me to totally eradicate it. So, I watch for that weed, knowing that as soon as I see its ugly fingers, I'll give it a good yank and toss it with all the other weeds... Far away from my garden.
I've not ever thought of myself as a good gardener, and I certainly don't consider myself to be an expert (not yet, at least) but as I see the results of pulling those unwanted plants so that I can plant things that will nourish my family, I am encouraged to stick with it.
I know that I didn't get all the violets' and Little Deceivers' roots. But when they start to grown in my garden, I know what to look for. It's easier to recognize weeds when I've planted good strong, nourishing food in that soil. Some weeds will poke through tentatively while others will unabashedly break through and try to set up shop in my garden. No more. They are not welcome. Recognizing that you have a weed problem is one thing. Resolving to do something about it is another. I think that it's only once you have good plants in place of the weeds that you actually realize how much life and nourishment the weeds were preventing.
Now go - Pull your weeds and plant nourishing vegetation that will be good and useful to you and your family.
~
(Lest I leave anyone confused, go back and replace any reference to "unwanted weeds" with the word "sin.")
Thursday, April 30, 2015
To haiku or not to haiku
My kids' poetry for the day... The first few are the silly ones.
9-yr-old
And neither will I
11-yr-old
All the lines have eight syllables
12-yr-old
And now for the one's they actually tried to make into real haiku. Haiku is actually supposed to be an observation of a tiny thought in the vast expanse of nature. These poems reflect the intended subject of Haiku:
12-yr-old
A tree's buds will burst
They turn into big green leaves
But soon they will fall
11-yr-old
A flower in bloom
Surrounded by all the grass
And tall trees around
9-yr-old
The fluffy bunny
Hopped around on the green grass
Later, we cooked it
My youngest wrote three actual nature haiku... This was the most pleasant one.
Addendum:
11-yr-old
9-yr-old
My haiku will bore
You will not like it at allAnd neither will I
11-yr-old
This haiku is not a haiku
And it is really super wrongAll the lines have eight syllables
12-yr-old
I'll tell a haiku
It has a giant mistakeAnd now for the one's they actually tried to make into real haiku. Haiku is actually supposed to be an observation of a tiny thought in the vast expanse of nature. These poems reflect the intended subject of Haiku:
12-yr-old
A tree's buds will burst
They turn into big green leaves
But soon they will fall
11-yr-old
A flower in bloom
Surrounded by all the grass
And tall trees around
9-yr-old
The fluffy bunny
Hopped around on the green grass
Later, we cooked it
My youngest wrote three actual nature haiku... This was the most pleasant one.
Addendum:
11-yr-old
The sad little fly
Oh no - he's a black fruit fly
His life just ended
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
Recipe Alert: Summer Veggie Pesto Pasta
I made this last night and we all loved it. The cold leftovers that I'm eating right now taste like summer... Ahh, summer!
I want to remember this, so I'm writing it up to share.
You can use whichever veggies you like. Next time I find asparagus on sale, I'll be trying it in here. Some orange peppers would be tasty, too.
Mix it up. Put whatever you like in here. Enjoy!
Summer Veggie Pesto Pasta
Ingredients:
2 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 red onion, sliced
1 large head broccoli, cut into bite-sized chunks
1 pkg snap peas, trimmed and cut into bite-sized chunks
375 g penne pasta
3 Tbsp sun-dried tomatoes, diced
2 Tbsp pesto
1/4 cup parmesan cheese
Directions:
Cook pasta according to package directions.
While pasta is cooking...
In a large pan, stir-fry onions in olive oil for two minutes on medium. Add broccoli and cook for another two minutes. Add snap peas and turn pan off.
Add pasta to veggies. Add tomatoes, pesto, and parmesan cheese. Stir together and serve.
Tastes great hot or cold!
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Where I am
I am hiding in my basement, listening to my youngest pick out one of his favourite songs on the piano. The older two are giggling and laughing in the hallway beside me. I have a headache, which has been slowly creeping on all morning. I suspect the energetic stomping/dancing that I heard earlier contributed to the throbbing I now feel.
I am tired. I remember days when I sat down at my keyboard to write and my mind was full of exciting things to share. Today is not one of those days. Today (and for many days, recently) things are different.
The first difference is that I feel less confident in sharing what I am learning... Not that I don't have good things to share, just that I have been humbled lately in attempting to “teach” others. Those who teach will be judged more strictly, after all. (James 3:1) So I am sitting back and gleaning from others more these days.
Beyond that, though, I have this pervading feeling of weariness. I don't know if it's this everlasting Winter O' 2015 or something else, but I just don't want to do anything. I'm tired of answering questions. I'm tired of meal planning. I'm tired of shopping multiple times a week. I'm tired of listening to people's whining (and I'm not just talking about kids here.) I am weary.
I stood under the spray of the shower this morning and imagined something that I only think about in my weakest moments - an extended period of time away from everything... Cars, stores, internet, people, teaching. In that ever-so-brief moment, it sounds delightful.
Yet, I know that I have a purpose here, right now.
And, I know that escape is neither healthy, nor useful.
But in those moments, I find it hard to remember that I do have a purpose.
But.
I have heard it said that when someone speaks the word, “BUT...” it really means, “All that stuff I just told you? Forget about it.”
“Your hair looks great today BUT you have food in your teeth.”
“I know you told me not to tell you any more church gossip BUT you have to hear what so-and-so told me.”
“I want something better for my children BUT I'm not willing to make any changes.”
You get the idea. What you read before the “BUT” means nothing, really.
So, all that stuff up there? BUT...
BUT God has put me where I am so that I can shine my light, even when it feels like I'm on my last drop of oil. I am reflecting the light of Jesus to my family, to my church, to my friends, and to people I meet at the store or library or swimming pool.
It's not about me.
It should never have been about me.
I try to make it about me far too often.
So, I will persevere. I will get over myself when I am feeling used up and worn out, because the Lord has satiated the weary soul! (Jeremiah 31:25)
If I am not letting God build this family into what he wants it to be, my work is all vain. (Psalm 127:1)
And how quickly I forget the last part of Psalm 127, where God tells me that my children are a heritage and reward to me. Thank you, Lord, for that reminder. They truly are.
I will not grow weary in doing good. I will reap my reward, one day. (Gal 6:9)
Today... And every today to follow...
This is my prayer - That I can let my light shine before men, so that they may see my good works and GLORIFY my FATHER in heaven. (Matthew 5:16)
So I am here, sitting at my computer, listening to the noises of my family and resolving to continue doing good. After all, God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26) It doesn't get better than that, right?
I am tired. I remember days when I sat down at my keyboard to write and my mind was full of exciting things to share. Today is not one of those days. Today (and for many days, recently) things are different.
The first difference is that I feel less confident in sharing what I am learning... Not that I don't have good things to share, just that I have been humbled lately in attempting to “teach” others. Those who teach will be judged more strictly, after all. (James 3:1) So I am sitting back and gleaning from others more these days.
Beyond that, though, I have this pervading feeling of weariness. I don't know if it's this everlasting Winter O' 2015 or something else, but I just don't want to do anything. I'm tired of answering questions. I'm tired of meal planning. I'm tired of shopping multiple times a week. I'm tired of listening to people's whining (and I'm not just talking about kids here.) I am weary.
I stood under the spray of the shower this morning and imagined something that I only think about in my weakest moments - an extended period of time away from everything... Cars, stores, internet, people, teaching. In that ever-so-brief moment, it sounds delightful.
 |
| Curling up in the fetal position and sucking my thumb was my go-to, years ago |
Yet, I know that I have a purpose here, right now.
And, I know that escape is neither healthy, nor useful.
But in those moments, I find it hard to remember that I do have a purpose.
But.
I have heard it said that when someone speaks the word, “BUT...” it really means, “All that stuff I just told you? Forget about it.”
“
“
You get the idea. What you read before the “BUT” means nothing, really.
So, all that stuff up there? BUT...
BUT God has put me where I am so that I can shine my light, even when it feels like I'm on my last drop of oil. I am reflecting the light of Jesus to my family, to my church, to my friends, and to people I meet at the store or library or swimming pool.
It's not about me.
It should never have been about me.
I try to make it about me far too often.
So, I will persevere. I will get over myself when I am feeling used up and worn out, because the Lord has satiated the weary soul! (Jeremiah 31:25)
If I am not letting God build this family into what he wants it to be, my work is all vain. (Psalm 127:1)
And how quickly I forget the last part of Psalm 127, where God tells me that my children are a heritage and reward to me. Thank you, Lord, for that reminder. They truly are.
 |
| My heritage and reward... Awesome. |
I will not grow weary in doing good. I will reap my reward, one day. (Gal 6:9)
Today... And every today to follow...
This is my prayer - That I can let my light shine before men, so that they may see my good works and GLORIFY my FATHER in heaven. (Matthew 5:16)
So I am here, sitting at my computer, listening to the noises of my family and resolving to continue doing good. After all, God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26) It doesn't get better than that, right?
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
My Super-Man
Originally written November 16, 2009.
My husband is stretched out on the Lazyboy right now, "watching" MNF with his eyes closed. I take him for granted very often. He's not the most romantic guy in the world and he doesn't always say what I want to hear, but I can't help loving him anyway.
Do you know that he gets up every morning at 6:15 so he can get to work on time? And he never complains about it. He doesn't even try to make noise to wake me up. He lets me sleep until 7:30 when he's heading out the door, at which point, he wakes me with a kiss, EVERY MORNING, and says good-bye. The kids, who he's been holding off until that moment, rush into our room and ask if they can get breakfast. Let me expound... He makes his own lunch each morning (a feat among husbands from what I hear), gets dressed in our dark room, and absorbs the kids while I doze for another hour and fifteen minutes.
And then, THEN! he gets his gear on (coat, hat, mitts if needed) and bike helmet on and rides his bicycle to work. In the rain. In the snow. In the extreme heat. In the cold. It is a very rare day when he accepts my offer of a ride in the morning.
He gets to work on time every day... No wait - he gets to work early every day and makes decisions on his workday based on his morals and ethics, not on what his boss is expecting or what will be easiest.
Do you know that he takes a lunch to work every day? He doesn't spend our money on such frivolous things as pizza and chips or salad and a sandwich. He would rather spend the time making his lunch in the morning. And yes, it is our money, even though I sleep in until 7:30 and the hardest thing I have to do on any given day ranges from unknotting knotted hair to deciding who gets the last blueberry yogurt.
My husband is a superhero! I could go on about how when he bikes home from work he settles in to play with the kids and gets them to clean up before dinner, or how he reads with at least one of the kids almost every night after dinner, or how he chats with me about his day and listens if I feel compelled to complain about mine. (At this point, I'm wondering what there ever was to complain about!)
No, I don't need to tell you all that. Nor do I need to go into how he patiently taught me to understand and appreciate football, or how he goes to concerts with me even though he really would rather not spend the money on the tickets and babysitter. You get the idea without me going into all that.
I am married to Superman. He may appear to be Clark Kent, but he's Superman underneath it all. I'd say that makes me Lois Lane, but I think I'm somewhere closer to Amelia Bedelia. So I just keep thanking God for blessing me with my Aaron and hoping that he doesn't realize he's sorely mis-matched.
And as I finish typing this, he wakes from his peaceful slumber, passes gas, and flashes me his smile. I giggle. I can't help it. I'm smitten.
My husband is stretched out on the Lazyboy right now, "watching" MNF with his eyes closed. I take him for granted very often. He's not the most romantic guy in the world and he doesn't always say what I want to hear, but I can't help loving him anyway.
Do you know that he gets up every morning at 6:15 so he can get to work on time? And he never complains about it. He doesn't even try to make noise to wake me up. He lets me sleep until 7:30 when he's heading out the door, at which point, he wakes me with a kiss, EVERY MORNING, and says good-bye. The kids, who he's been holding off until that moment, rush into our room and ask if they can get breakfast. Let me expound... He makes his own lunch each morning (a feat among husbands from what I hear), gets dressed in our dark room, and absorbs the kids while I doze for another hour and fifteen minutes.
And then, THEN! he gets his gear on (coat, hat, mitts if needed) and bike helmet on and rides his bicycle to work. In the rain. In the snow. In the extreme heat. In the cold. It is a very rare day when he accepts my offer of a ride in the morning.
He gets to work on time every day... No wait - he gets to work early every day and makes decisions on his workday based on his morals and ethics, not on what his boss is expecting or what will be easiest.
Do you know that he takes a lunch to work every day? He doesn't spend our money on such frivolous things as pizza and chips or salad and a sandwich. He would rather spend the time making his lunch in the morning. And yes, it is our money, even though I sleep in until 7:30 and the hardest thing I have to do on any given day ranges from unknotting knotted hair to deciding who gets the last blueberry yogurt.
My husband is a superhero! I could go on about how when he bikes home from work he settles in to play with the kids and gets them to clean up before dinner, or how he reads with at least one of the kids almost every night after dinner, or how he chats with me about his day and listens if I feel compelled to complain about mine. (At this point, I'm wondering what there ever was to complain about!)
No, I don't need to tell you all that. Nor do I need to go into how he patiently taught me to understand and appreciate football, or how he goes to concerts with me even though he really would rather not spend the money on the tickets and babysitter. You get the idea without me going into all that.
I am married to Superman. He may appear to be Clark Kent, but he's Superman underneath it all. I'd say that makes me Lois Lane, but I think I'm somewhere closer to Amelia Bedelia. So I just keep thanking God for blessing me with my Aaron and hoping that he doesn't realize he's sorely mis-matched.
And as I finish typing this, he wakes from his peaceful slumber, passes gas, and flashes me his smile. I giggle. I can't help it. I'm smitten.
A Man at 40
I've kind of been out of words lately. I haven't had a whole lot to say and I've had even fewer words with which to say things, so I've just stayed away from the keyboard.
But today – TODAY – I have a reason to come back to the keyboard!
But today – TODAY – I have a reason to come back to the keyboard!
Today I celebrate my best friend.
Today I celebrate the person who makes me laugh more than anyone else in this world.
He isn't afraid to get his hands dirty.
And he loves exploring,
...with me!
My best friend is also an amazing father, someone who will play games that aren't his favourite, simply for the sake of spending time with people who need his time.
There have been lots of highs with my best friend... I'm glad to have been alongside him for so many of them.
Today, crack open your ice cream and lift a spoon to celebrate the first forty years of this man's life.
Happy birthday to my best friend.
Happy birthday to my best friend.
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