Pierced

My favorite gold drop earrings were the final bit of my getting dressed for church on Sunday morning. As I popped them into my ears, I was reminded of something that happened many years ago while on vacation with my family. I need to tell you what I was wearing - it's important to the story. It was a hot summer day. My outfit consisted of a skirt, flip-flops, and a tee shirt with a design and scripture that commemorated our church's 25th anniversary.

Anyways, my husband, my daughters and I were strolling through this small little town (our boys were on a missions trip in Brazil). There was a book store advertising home school supplies that caught my attention. I took the girls in with me while Mike went for ice cream. As I was perusing the shelves, the proprietor wandered over.

Shop guy: "You're a Christian?"
Me: "Yeah. (smiling)"
Shop guy: "Really? (frowning) I noticed that your ears are pierced. That's pagan, not Christian."

He proceeded to inform me what I would look like had I been a genuine believer. He went on to tell me that a group of teenagers wandered into his shop last night claiming to be Christians, too. They were part of some church youth group. But he sincerely doubted the authenticity of their faith. At this point, I was getting a bit nervous. The shop was small. I saw my husband standing outside with the ice cream, waiting for us. Shop guy followed my gaze.

"Is that your husband?"
"Uh-huh."
"He's wearing shorts. The men in our church don't wear shorts.
"We're not in your church."
"He wouldn't be allowed in the door."

"Must control fist of death" was the thought zipping through my mind. I put down the books I was planning to buy, and even though I was furious, said (without shouting, by God's grace alone), "You and I may look different from one another, but I will never allow anyone to tell me I do not belong to Jesus Christ." Shop guy just blinked.

Angry and dazed, I left that store. It felt as if I had been repeatedly punched in the head. I complained to the Lord as we wandered back to our car, "How could you have let that happen? I'm on vacation!" Just then, walking towards me was an elderly African-American woman, slightly stooped and leaning on her cane. And whether you believe it or not, this is true. She was wearing the same outfit as me--a skirt and the same celebratory church tee shirt, the church name being the only difference. We looked at each other. She laughed. "Well, look at us, girl", she said. "We're different. But we're the same. Praise God." She laughed again and went on her way. I was still in a daze, but less heart-sore.

So what did I learn from this experience?
1) hateful behavior is often fear disguised. I had to forgive Shop guy and pray for him. Pray that his faith would overtake his fear. My friend JoAnn at Ostriches Look Funny says it best - "square people always have a hard time spinning". He claimed to be a true believer, which would make him my brother. End of story.
2) No matter what, God has your back.
3) Sometimes ministering angels are disguised as little old ladies with cackly laughs.




Joining Emily today

Squirreling Away

"...No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,
November!"

Thomas Hood

These are the final lines of Thomas Hood's poem November. I could have printed the whole thing but I find it depressing, and better suited for February, which I find depressing. I'm sorry, Mr. Hood, but I think you're mistaken. There's plenty to appreciate in month eleven. For instance, a certain blogger celebrates her birthday in November *ahem!*. And as for beauty, just look at these frosty fields.


My friend Kristi at Thicket House, who shares my affection for acorns and squirrels, captures the spirit of the month best when she says: "Squirrels are a good symbol of the 'all is safely gathered in' theme of November".


So the man and I had a wonderful weekend of doing just that - gathering in. Lookit! All these peppers from the garden in November. Whaddya say to that, Tommy Hood?


And using up the last of the heirloom apples (some of which, by the way, can still be picked in November, H.)


Squirreling away some homemade applesauce...


...to keep company with other remembrances of the summer garden


And while birdsong may cease, the music of the axe chopping wood is lovely to my ears


No worries, no complaints--November

It was Supposed to be Just Gingerbread

November already? Hard to believe, but here we are. It's been another week of ups and downs, I tell ya. Like the downer of a sudden snow storm that took out several of my honey bees--but not all, thank God. And then the up of a delightful house guest. And the next best thing to the house guest, the motivation to clean the house before they get here.



And speaking of house work, I found myself breaking into fits of praise this morning while sorting through dirty laundry. Why? Peace of mind. I remembered that my last laundry day was fretful, waiting for news/a biopsy report. It's amazing how knowing you're healthy can make the mundane so precious. Wow, I'm all over the place today. This post was supposed to be just about gingerbread cookies with lemon glaze.



Are you loving my rolling pin? It was anniversary gift from my sweetheart two years ago, and like I said before, some women can be charmed by a rolling pin for an anniversary gift. If you'd like to know where to find one, go to The House on the Hill. And this is the best recipe to acompany it: here



The recipe for the glaze is confection sugar mixed with water. I substitute lemon juice for the water, because lemon and gingerbread are best friends.

Nan-girl's here!

Finally! I've gotten to meet a virtual bloggety-friend, in the flesh. We are no longer imaginary friends. Nancy is a writer with a rich family heritage. She's sensitive and funny, an encourager, a woman of faith, and she can rock a foil hat. You should visit her here. We like to talk to each other in movie quotes. So today, she's Nan of Green Gables, and I'm pretending to be Diana Barry. What? No raspberry cordial in the pantry? SNAP!

Nancy, you made me laugh so much!

But your ignored the rule: "stripes at dinner"

People break down into two groups. We're group number one. Miracle girls.

Minor bit of trivia - Nan-girl has the same map hanging in her home. Apparently we both spent our honeymoons on Martha's Vineyard. And we both bought the same souvenir map. Freaky...

Life, lollies, lumps and bumps

This has been one roller coaster of a week. From the serious to the silly, I have SO MUCH to be thankful for. My first girl had her first girl in the land of the long white cloud- NZ. Being that they are 17 hours ahead of us, I got my times mixed up. I thought she had been in labor for 24 hours when in actuality it had been 39. All is well. While waiting for news of the new baba, I was also waiting on results of a biopsy I had to have for two lumps found on my person. Got the news Friday - benign. All is well. Also, I received a package of happy in the mail from the new mommy - a beautiful tunic and my favorite lollies - yippeeee!

Thank you Lord for new babies, safe deliveries, all those who took the time to call and text to keep us posted as labor progressed, pictures taken by Uncle Euan, the prayers of faithful friends, sheep that make merino wool, and lollipops. It is well with my soul.


Counting blessings


456 - presenting Tilly Ayla Angharad with her thankful parents


457 - strong women - she/they look pretty darn cute for 39 hours of labor


458 - Chupa Chups


459 - my new wool tunic and tons to smile about





Joining Ann today

What would happen if......

I must confess that I've been a lazy blogger of late. A lot has been going on--some joyful and some difficult. I've been feeling emotionally spent, but through it all, God is good, and it is well with my soul. I've missed visiting all your lovely blogs and am playing catch-up to your posts, reading and commenting.

So - about the title of this post. If someone asks me what type of artist I am, I would say mixed media. But I like to call it "What Would Happen If...". God wired me a particular way. It is essential for me to always be making things. Whether it's a painting or soup doesn't matter. I need to be creating something--it doesn't feel right if I can't. It's how I recharge my batteries. The funny thing about it is that I'm always more interested in the process than the outcome. Except if it involves food--then I want the outcome to be good, especially if I am feeding someone other than myself!

But anyway, I get these ideas. Like - what would happen if I took a hundred year old screen door and treated it as if it were a gi-normous embroidery or crewel-work canvas? And what would happen if I drew a design on the screen door with oil pastels (because they stick). And then started to crewel/embroider over that design, embellishing it with some antique buttons and other textile scraps that I have lying around in my studio? What would happen? Will it be hideous? Would it be amazing? Haven't a clue. But I am curious. So here we go.

Who has a hundred year old screen door, you may ask. Me. I have five actually. I bought them for a dollar a piece, which I think is pretty good, considering I've seen them in antique shops for seventy-five dollars or more. One has been put on our henhouse. This one sits on sawhorses in my studio.

And the three others are stored in the garage waiting to discover their life's re-purpose. I'm open to ideas.

Bon Anniversaire

Counting blessings


455 - celebrating today 30 years of marriage. It was a wonderful day. Lunch at our favorite museum. A walk along the river. And the planting of a fig tree in our garden. Just perfect in our estimation.