Christmas

Christmas -- the celebration of Christ's birth by Christians worldwide, has come and gone already!  It hardly seems possible that 2012 is days away!
We had Bob's daughters and their families, as well as Bob's mother, over the day before Christmas to celebrate.  It was a lot of fun watching the 2 3-year-old grandsons opening their presents, especially their "Toy Story" and "Cars" chairs, which they absolutely loved.  It was a relaxed visit, greatly appreciated after the hustle and bustle of the week.  We also received a surprise, but I can't say anything about it just yet!
My husband and I went to our Christmas Eve church service, at the end of which candles were lit by everyone as the lights were dimmed.  The lighting of candles to me signifies the spreading of God's love as all the candles are lit from the Christ candle; as the flame was passed and multiplied, the sanctuary glowed with a soft light, candles flickering in hands and casting dancing shadows across our faces.  As God's love is shared, it too spreads light and ejects the darkness of the world.
After we came home, Bob and I had our simple gift exchange.  Our big gift was a Wii console for ourselves.  I gave Bob a Nascar game for the Wii so he can drive like a mad man from the safety of the sofa in our living room!  Bob gave me a copy of "The Message" Bible, which I had requested.
After a relaxed breakfast and reading of the Christmas story from the Bible the next morning, I spent about 5 hours in the kitchen, baking cinnamon bread for my kids/grandkids, making another batch of candied citrus peels (requested by my son and son-in-law), and baking dinner rolls from scratch.  Around 1:45 pm, we packed the trunk full of presents and drove to my son's house in Raleigh, where I and the presents were deposited so Bob could get his mother from her apartment to spend Christmas with us.  I hadn't been in the house but a few minutes when Niland and Benny were pulling me and telling me that I had to go upstairs to the great room to see the "surprise."  They were bursting at the seams to show it to me, so up the stairs we went.  I couldn't believe my eyes!  My son (and I didn't know about this ahead of time) had built from plywood a "firehouse" indoor play area, complete with ladder, 8' slide, fire pole, and a rock wall (which had yet to be installed).  The plywood sides created a 4x4 box that was about 9' tall; the ladder/steps took one up to the platform or floor of the second level, which was about 5' above the ground, where the kids could either go down the slide or out onto the platform to access the fire pole!  Beneath the upper platform was another 'room' with an arched entrance, and I was encouraged, and I complied, to crawl in there and sit down on a beanbag chair!  There is a peaked roof on top of the unit, so the top platform is also a room in which the kids can play.  Needless to say, they love it! 
Dori, John, Luke and Cami arrived shortly, and Bob returned with his mother, gifts were passed out, and we watched the kids have more fun!  Being with family on holidays is so important, and we're so blessed to have all of our children close by!
Nate cooked a beef tenderloin wrapped in some sort of salty bread dough in the oven -- it was so yummy!  Luke devoured a dinner roll immediately -- I think it's his favorite food at our family dinners -- and we had scalloped potatoes, salad (2 kinds), braised brussel sprouts, and carrots, followed by several selections for dessert. 
We said our goodbyes by 7:15 pm; the boys were exhausted, John and Dori had to pack for a trip to Chicago the next morning to visit John's parents, and we had to take Mom home.  After we left Nate's place, we drove around and looked at Christmas lights decorating the outside of homes in the area before taking Mom back to her apartment.
After we returned home, we tried out the Nascar game on the Wii for about an hour.  We laughed so hard at the "announcer's" comments when Bob would crash into the wall or spin out on the track.  I can see how the games are addictive!
And now we're looking to quietly celebrate the New Year -- first on Friday evening by having dinner at Steve and Martha's house -- this is becoming a tradition, but usually we do it on New Year's Eve.  However, Ricky and Julie, another couple that celebrates with us, have to be at church early the next day, so our celebration will be Friday evening instead.  And Saturday, we're going to have a simple evening meal at our house with some other church friends, Gladwin and Doris, at which time we'll also celebrate Bob's 64th birthday!  Yes, he's a New Year's Eve baby! 
As we approach 2012, we pray for peace, not only personally, but globally.  We pray for hearts turning back to God, our Creator, and we pray for the blessings of God to rain down on His people around the world.  I'm expecting God to do great things in 2012, but He's already done the best thing He could ever do -- He sent His Son Jesus to redeem us!  Nothing comes close in comparison.

Happy New Year to all my blog readers around the world!

Cookies - and a Scare!

Baking Christmas cookies for family has become a tradition.  Years ago when my children were small, I'd bake sugar cookies, the kind you cut out, and let Dori and Nathan decorate them with colored frosting, which they "painted" on.  Sprinkles and a variety of candy decorations were added to the frosting before it dried, transforming the lightly-browned cookies into colorful, festive treats. 
This past Saturday, I spent the day baking those sugar cookies.  Needless to say, I was exhausted by the end of the day.  But for my husband's help, I would have been more exhausted!  Sunday afternoon five of the grandchildren came over to decorate cookies -- Cami (9), Niland (4), Wilson and Cooper (3), and Benny (2).  The kitchen table was stacked with plain cookies in 5 places, so each child had their own stack on which to work.  Excitement permeated the air as the kids looked at all those cookies!  We mixed up the frosting, and the fun began!  I know Cooper ate more sprinkles than he put on his cookies!
We were especially glad to see Benny as Friday night had given us a real scare.  Bob and I had gone to a Christmas party for some kids, put on by an organization in our church, and afterward, we drove around looking at the Christmas light displays and one in particular that had thousands of lights synchronized to music which could be heard on a radio frequency.  While there, we got a phone call from my son, Nathan, who was at the emergency room with Benny.  He'd had an allergic reaction to something that he ate.  His entire body had blown up like he'd been pumped full of air, and his breathing had become labored.  Nate and Bernette called for an ambulance, which arrived within minutes, and Benny was taken to the emergency room and treated enroute.  When Nate called me, Benny was receiving medication through an IV and had just fallen asleep. 
Bernette had left a harried message on my cell phone about an hour earlier, but I hadn't heard it ring due to all the noise at the party, and I hadn't checked my phone for messages when we left.  Once I listened to Bee's message after I spoke with Nate, I called her and prayed with her and for Benny.  Niland, their 4-year-old son, had witnessed the paramedics taking his brother in the ambulance, and he was very upset, standing at the window and asking his mother when the ambulance was going to bring his brother back home.  I could tell Niland was distraught when I spoke to him in an added effort to assure him that Benny would return, but in daddy's car, not the ambulance.  And they did return home around 2 a.m.  Benny's swelling was down, and when they woke Niland up to tell him Benny was home, Niland hugged and hugged his little brother.  Benny is currently taking steroids and is undergoing tests to determine what caused the severe allergic reaction.  It was indeed a frightful incident, especially for Nate and Bee -- and 2-year-old Benny!
But back to the cookies -- Benny's attention span was rather short Sunday afternoon, so about 45 minutes after they arrived, Nate and Bee took Benny and the baby, Julian, with them, leaving us with the 4 other children.  After most of the cookies were decorated, the kids played outside, running through the dormant flower gardens and playing on the swing set and slide.  Later, we refilled our bird feeders, and when I mentioned to Bob that I'd have to clean out the seeds from between the slats of wood on the deck, Niland said, "Yeah, you'll have to do that later, Nana, 'cause you have children to watch!"  He was so right!  While warming up inside and snacking, they watched 2 short videos.
Nate and Bee returned around 4:15 to get Niland, and then I took the rest of the grandkids on a walk through the neighborhood, looking for birds' nests in the bare trees and watching the ducks that were paddling in the small pond down the slope along the road. When we returned to our house, the boys played while I finished decorating their cookies and packed them in boxes for transport home.
After everyone was gone, Bob and I finished decorating the remaining sugar cookies -- they taste better with frosting!  Which is sort of like life -- it tastes better with 'frosting.'  Family and friends are the 'frosting' that sweetens our life.  And if they are the frosting, God is the 'cookie', the foundation from which flows all the sweetness of family and friends.

Decorate a cookie this Christmas.  And then turn around and hug the sweetness that God has put in your life.  I'm so very grateful that our family can still hug our little Benny!

An Angel, a Shepherd, and a Lamb

An angel, a shepherd, and a lamb -- all were present during the first Christmas night, and all played an important role in the Christmas story.  If you haven't done so, pull out your Bible (hopefully you're blessed with having one) and read the Christmas story again.
The shepherds were the lowliest of people back in those days.  Left to watch sheep both day and night, they were a hardy bunch, and I can envision them being scruffy, gruff, and tough.  They had to be to protect their precious, defenseless sheep from predatory animals and from the pitfalls in the rough countryside.  Sheep, dumb animals at best, were easily frightened and would scatter in different directions, making the job of the shepherds particularly challenging.  And thus they were out on the hillsides on a cold, dark night when an angel of the Lord appeared in the sky overhead, causing the shepherds to tremble in fear!  Suddenly, their dark, peaceful night had exploded in blazing color, dazzling light, and a voice from heaven.  I can only imagine what they thought as they covered their eyes and fell to their knees, terrified at the sight before them.  Fear quickly turned to joy when the news the angel delivered registered in their simple, yet trusting, hearts and minds.  The Messiah had come!
God chooses the simple things of this world to spread his Word, and this past week he used little children to do just that.  Three of our young grandsons attend the same preschool located in a Baptist church.  Their Christmas Program was on Monday, and the parents and half of the grandparents of all three attended.  In fact, there were lots of family members filling the auditorium.  All of the approximately 30 children, ages 3 and 4 years, were simply dressed as angels, shepherds, or sheep.  Niland was a shepherd; Cooper was a sheep; and Wilson was an angel.  I thought it was neat that they were three different characters.  They sang three songs, jingling bells during "Jingle Bells", and they blessed everyone who was there.  Cameras clicked and recorded videos for this grand event, a reflection of that night thousands of years ago when an angel, shepherds, and sheep were chosen to be part of the greatest story ever told. 
The photos attached show our grandsons and the other small children during their performance.  Oh that we could be like them, enthralled and captivated with the season -- not for the commercialism -- but for the birth of the Savior of mankind -- Jesus.

As you prepare for this special season, my prayer is that each of you keep the real meaning of Christmas in the center of your heart and mind.  After all, Christ is Christmas.

Hectic Season!

WOW!  I thought I'd be able to post a blog every week since the last one, but things have turned hectic, or maybe they've just remained so.  One thing that has consumed my time has been editing my book, "Amanda's Hope," which is going to be published by WestBow Press, a division of Thomas Nelson Publishing.  I'm very excited about this as the book will be professionally produced and marketed nation-wide.  Now that the book has been checked and made as perfect as I can get it, I need to submit it on-line, and I estimate that process will take about 2 hours.  Once I complete the on-line work, I'll have a proof in hand in a matter of weeks. 
We also hosted our church group's Christmas party last Saturday, and I took off the day before so I wouldn't be pressed and stressed; however, preparations still went down to the wire.  The thing that set us back was the fact that the Christmas tree we had purchased the Sunday before and left outside in a bucket of water had a crack up the trunk when we went to put it up, so we had to take it back and get a new one. Fortunately, the place was only 2 miles down the road.  We put the lights and beaded garlands on it, and when our guests arrived at 6 p.m., they helped trim our tree.  I had roasted a turkey, and the rest of the meal was potluck, and the food was fabulous.  I had chosen games to play after dinner, and we had so much fun with one that involved Christmas songs -- laughed so hard!  We had 21 people plus us, so 23 people in the house.  As guests were leaving around 10:15 p.m., Iwas in the kitchen cleaning up with a few other ladies when we heard a crash and a large collective gasp from people in the living room -- our Christmas tree, all 8.5 feet of it, had fallen, breaking glass ornaments and spilling water everywhere.  I couldn't even look at it, I was so upset; all the ornaments that had been placed on the tree were hand-made, and I didn't want to know which ones broke.  Several people helped clean up the mess, the tree was righted, lights hanging everywhere, and our house finally emptied.  The tree must have been heavier on one side because there was no reason for it to come down; my daughter told me later that their tree had fallen on Christmas day last year for no apparent reason, too, so I guess it does happen.  The tree was trimmed again on Sunday, and I don't know which ornaments were lost, but my 3 hand-painted blown eggshell ornaments survived.  I made them in 1990 and was glad that they somehow made it through the crash.  One fell off the tree, and the other 2 stayed on, but none broke!
Shopping for Christmas presents has been slow; some has been done on-line and some in-store.  I took Tuesday off to spend the day with my daughter and daughter-in-law, doing a little shopping and having lunch.  So nice to be able to spend time with them - and the baby, who is now almost 8 months old and sporting 2 teeth!  After lunch, my daughter-in-law Bee and I went and picked up her two older boys from preschool, and then I went to their house and spent about an hour playing in the leaves piled up at the curb.  The weather was warm -- about 73 degrees that day -- so no jackets were needed, and Niland and Benny had a grand time throwing leaves on me and trying to cover me up.  Great memories!
Around 3 p.m. I headed to the bank, then got my hair cut, and then did a little more Christmas shopping.  After lugging everything home, I made a turkey potpie from scratch -- yummy - and a great way to use some of that turkey left from the party.
Our warm weather exited our state on Wednesday as a line of very heavy rain and high winds blew it out and ushered in cold weather.  Being a person who's lived in the North most of my life, I still find it difficult to realize that Christmas is a little more than 2 weeks away because it's been so warm!  Cold weather helps!  But this blessed time of year when we celebrate our Lord's birth has crept up on me, and I'm so unprepared!  Things I still must do (mostly because I like to!) -- make fudge, sugar cookies, and loads of caramel nut popcorn! 
Last year we had the small grandchildren over to decorate Christmas cookies, and they will come again on December 18, so I'll be baking all day Saturday to have enough cookies for 5 grandchildren to decorate and take home!  And tonight my husband has his Christmas Concert for this barbershop chorus, and Sunday the group sings at Pullen Park in Raleigh, which has been renovated and features a 100-year-old merry-go-round and a miniature train, but it's only supposed to be 45 degrees on Sunday, which means by the time they sing at 4:30, it's going to be COLD!  Guess I'll wear my ski pants to stay warm!
We're still trying to arrange how to get with all the family Christmas weekend -- they have spouses and other members to consider, too -- so things are hectic, to say the least.  But in the midst of all the hurried activity, we must all remember the real reason for the season -- Jesus Christ came to earth as a baby to save mankind. 
Take time to dwell on the true meaning of Christmas.  Without His coming, there would be no celebration at all and no redemption for mankind.

Day Trip

My husband and I finally took a day trip last Saturday to Seagrove, North Carolina, to enjoy the world-famous pottery that is created in that small town.  The day didn't start off as planned, and I wondered if we'd even get to go.  Bob wears contact lenses, and as he was putting them in, the one in his left eye popped out.  When he couldn't find it, he called me, and we spent about 20 minutes searching every place imaginable where it could have landed in the bathroom, but we came up empty.  Bob is near-sighted and can't see anything without his contacts/glasses unless it's in front of his face, so the search was pretty much left to me.  When this has happened before, we've always been able to find the lens, but not this time.  We finally gave up.  Bob put on his thick glasses since he didn't have a spare left contact; he wears the old hard ones, his preference.  But his glasses had a broken nose piece, so they weren't comfortable.
After breakfast, we headed to the local WalMart, where he had the nose piece replaced.  We finally headed to Seagrove after a delay of 1.5 hours.  We still have not found the contact lens in the bathroom.  Only God knows where it is!  Really!
We took the scenic route, but the colorful leaves were mostly on the ground, so it wasn't as scenic as we thought it would be.  We arrived in Seagrove at noon, along with hundreds of other people.  The festival was being held in an old canning factory, where vendors had set up well-lighted booths to display their wares.  Seagrove has become a destination in itself because of the huge number of potters that live in and around the town -- about 100 of them -- each creating one-of-a-kind pieces ranging from dollhouse decorative size to sculptures to stand on the floor, some of them weighing over 100 pounds.  I was searching for 2 particular potters, and as luck would have it, they were the last ones in our tour of the festival.  I was amazed to find that Hickory Hill still used the same glaze, and I was able to add a soup turine and a mixing bowl to my set of 3 bowls that I had purchased about 11 years ago.  We also purchased two small plates glazed by the crystalline technique, 4 soup mugs, and a butter dish.  We ate outside the building, where some food vendors had set up, and sat on an old, weathered picnic table to dine.  Although a cool day, we were able to sit in the sun, which made it pleasant.
After leaving the factory with our purchases tucked securely on the floor behind us in the car, we set out on an adventure to check out other potters in the area.  We stopped at several buildings, and Bob purchased a vase at one of them.  On our excursion, we passed a lot of farmland, and one thing that caught our eyes -- we saw several huge pigs in the front yard of one house; they were fenced in, and the yard was nothing but dirt and mud, so we had a good laugh over that!  It's not something we see every day! 
Finally, we stopped at the information center and museum in the town itself.  The small museum gives the history of pottery in North Carolina and has many old photographs of early potters and their wares.  There were many pieces from the 1800's and early 1900's exhibited in the museum, most of which were in superb condition.  We headed back to Durham around dusk and finished our day with a light dinner out -- no cooking for me! 
Many of us are like potters -- we enjoy creating with our hands.  And our potter, God himself, has crafted each one of us to be a useful vessel for His service.  Oddly enough, God never finishes us, never takes us off His potter's wheel, until we leave this earth, so we're always a work in progress, but still useful.  Sometimes we crack, but He's there to fix us and renew us.  I'm reminded of the old hymn:  Have thine own way, Lord, Have thine own way.  Though art the potter, I am the clay.  Mold me and make me after thy will, while I am waiting, yielded and still." 
Even pottery can teach us about our God.

Still Here!

It's been far too long since I posted -- my life has been painfully busy!  I work full-time and then come home and do my other job -- laundry, cooking, cleaning, paying bills, and grocery shopping, and I try to get some exercise every day.  On top of that, I've been working to get "Amanda's Hope -- A Choice for Life" published by a professional publisher!  Oh, and I'm trying to make jewelry on the side, too.  We've also had company for the past 2 Saturday evenings, so that kept me in the kitchen most of the day (and I don't mind!  I LOVE to cook and bake!), and we've also spent time with family!  And you know how life can throw you curve balls with all sorts of aggravating problems.  I'm TIRED!  But it looks like things are slowing down, so I should be able to post a decent account this weekend.  Bob and I will be taking a day trip to Seagrove, North Carolina, on Saturday to enjoy the area's pottery festival, so that will give me plenty to talk about!  

Home

We have a saying here in America (I don't know if this has gone worldwide!) - "Home is where the heart is."  The familiarity of home conjures up memories as we age, memories often triggered by a simple smell or sound.  Many of us enjoy family get-togethers during the holidays, which are fast approaching here as Thanksgiving is in less than 3 weeks.  We become wrapped in traditions, smells, tastes, and arms of loved ones during these precious times.  As human beings created in the image of God, we seek comfort in the familiar, yet this earth is not our final home.
During the last several years, I've lost friends that I've known through my church and work.  My friend Nancy passed away several months ago after a year-long battle with cancer.  She was close to my age, a lovely person who dearly loved the Lord and had everything for which to live.  But in reality she's home now, home in heaven with the One who made her and loved her more than anyone on earth.  I'm sure she'd never trade the glories of that place for the comforts of home on this earth.
My mother-in-law is 89 years old and is now in the hospital due to an infection.  Most of us would think that she's closer to home than me because I'm only 62 years of age, but no one knows if that's true.  God, in his wisdom, doesn't allow us to know the time of our death, which is a good thing.  Yes, those with grave illnesses know that they are doing to die sooner, but they never know the exact day or moment.  As I age, I've realized that I'm closer to being 'born' into heaven than I am to being born here on this earth, my final home, my eternal, real home.  Life is so fleeting on this earth that we truly can't fathom the expanse of eternity with no measure of time.  Even as I love my life on this earth, I look forward to being with God, to being in His presence, to being free from all the problems, illnesses, limitations, frustrations, endless work, and struggles that come with living here.  I'm looking forward to seeing family that's gone on before and to reunite with my friend Nancy, who I'm sure will have a fabulous garden growing under her tender care. 
My heart longs for my eternal home -- does yours?  Do you know the location of your eternal home?  Remember that there are two of them.

Please Stop Time!

Life seems like a whirlwind most of the time, passing at warp speed, heedless to my cry to slow down.  Our trip to Myrtle Beach last week was just such a whirlwind.  We made good time on our way down but hit traffic complicated by a minor car accident which, coupled with our choice to go one way rather than another into Myrtle Beach, had us arrive at our friends' house 45 minutes later than planned.  After a scrumptious dinner, we headed off to the Gaither concert, which ran for 4 hours, closing at 11 p.m.  By the time we got out of there and home and after having dessert - yummy lemon pudding cake with vanilla ice cream - and showered and into bed, it was after 1 a.m.  We were up and back at the convention center for the 10 a.m. session, which lasted for 2 hours, so breakfast was rather hurried.  After that session, we changed clothes and drove to the pier where John and Donna, our friends, have a large fishing boat moored, and they took us out for a brief ride on the ocean.  It was amazing to see John maneuver that 38' boat out of the dock and through the inlet to the open ocean, where he opened up the two 450 hp diesel engines, which he'd just had overhauled.  The day couldn't have been more gorgeous!  The temperature was up near 70 degrees inland, so a few degrees cooler at the shore, but the sun was shining brilliantly and there was hardly a puff of wind.  Our trip was all too brief.
We returned to their house where we had another wonderful meal, and it was off again to the final session of music, which ran from 6 to 10 p.m.  Back at the house, we pretty much fell into bed and rose early in order to attend an 8:30 a.m. church service, after which Bob and I headed back to North Carolina.  Before coming home, we stopped by and saw Bob's mother and one of his daughters in Raleigh, and it was back to work as usual Monday morning.
Today, Saturday, I cleaned house while Bob pulled the tender plants from outside to inside as we are expecting near freezing temperatures tonight.  Then we headed to Raleigh where we took some sodas to Bob's mother, purchased bird seed, and went to my son's house to watch the three little boys so they could go out and eat a peaceful dinner.  As soon as they left, little Julian, now 6 months old with 2 new teeth, started crying, and he cried and cried.  I took him to the big room over the garage, and Niland, 4 years old, came up a few minutes later and said, "Nana, put him in here and he'll be quiet."  "In here" was a swinging cradle that played soft music and had a rotating mobile and lights.  Niland found the cord to plug it in and helped me get the cradle going.  Immediately Julian stopped crying.  I was so thankful to Niland for helping me.  However, Julian's crying resumed about 15 minutes later, so Bob tried to comfort him while I grabbed some dinner, and then I took over again.  This time Julian fell asleep on my lap.  After a few minutes I lifted him into my arms and held him close.  His little body kept heaving from his extended crying spell as I held him, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes.  His tiny nose was perfect, his eyelashes dark and curled, his face angelic, and his little body so perfect.  I started crying as I thanked God for my grandchildren as my heart cried out that I did not want to get old.  I want to be a grandparent, but not an old grandparent!  Why can't time stop?!  Why do I have to get old, wanting to do things that I can no longer do!?  Life is moving too quickly!  I want it to slow down!
As we were going to my son's house, I realized that their oldest son, Niland, will start kindergarten next fall.  It doesn't seem possible.  Even as I see my oldest grandson Luke, it doesn't seem possible that he's 5'8" tall and weighs 145 pounds at 13 years of age!  He was a baby such a short time ago! 
Time is a commodity over which we have no control other than how we spend it.  It slips through our fingers; we're powerless to stop it.  The phrase, "Stop the world; I want to get off" - came to mind today.  That's how I feel sometimes, and it's at those times that the brevity of life grips me like a vise, yet I'm constantly reminded that we are eternal beings and life on this earth is but a vapor, a puff of air.  May God help me use my time on this earth wisely.

Road Trip

My husband and I are taking a much-needed "road trip" to South Carolina to attend a Southern Gospel Music event.  We'll be staying at the house of some friends who live in Myrtle Beach, and they will be attending the event, which runs Friday night through Saturday evening, with us.  Then we'll attend church with them on Sunday before we return home.  We'll stop in Raleigh and visit my mother-in-law, whose assisted living place has been under quarantine due to an outbreak of a stomach virus, the one she shared with us.  The quarantine was lifted yesterday, I believe, unless there's been another person who's become ill, so it will be good to see her.  Her 89th birthday was last Tuesday, and we haven't had a proper celebration.
The weather is a little cool for this time of year, but the sun is shining brightly and the sky is clear.  We are so looking forward to this short break!  I think we deserve it!  Our cats will be tended to by our tenant and our neighbor, so all will be well on the home-front.
Breaks from the work and routine of everyday life are needed; even Jesus got away from the crowds and from his ministry to get in touch with his Father, and attending this Southern Gospel Music event will surely touch our souls as we seek restoration from our Father, too. 
Have a blessed weekend! 

Exhausted!

What a whirlwind of activity the last 2 weeks have been.  A person doesn't know how much stuff can be accumulated until you have to go through it. 
I took last Thursday and Friday off to finish up our 'purging' so our tenant could move into the front bedroom.  We originally had a meeting at 9:30 a.m. on Thursday, but that cancelled at the last minute, for which I was very grateful, but my Thursday was still very busy.  I first went to Target to purchase a gift and then headed off to do my weekly grocery shopping.  Once that was done, I set about taking down the sheer fabric that had been tacked to the curved window above the 2 windows in the front bedroom.  I searched at length through my stash of fabric for a certain blue fabric but didn't find it, concluding that I had given it away when I gave a friend a box of fabric last spring, so I opted instead for a calico blue that matched the comforter that I had made years ago and which was now on the bed (my apologies for such a long sentence!).  I needed the fabric to make a new window covering, which I made and hung later that evening.  I spent a good part of the day reorganizing things in both the front and middle bedrooms, as well as separating items for our 'tag sale' on Saturday. 
Friday morning, after my husband put up the old table we keep in the garage, I moved the items for the 'tag sale' onto the table or into the garage and put prices with little sticky yellow dots or red tags on almost everything.  I refolded yards of fabric and placed items in a 'FREE' box.  I made neat stacks of old children's games and craft items; patterns were placed in a container, as well as about 60 CD's, several of which were still sealed.  I placed an ad on Craig's List, itemzing almost everything we had for sale -- surely we'd have a crowd!  After lunch, I went to my daughter's house and got my granddaughter so she could spend the night.  Her brother Luke was celebrating his 13th birthday that evening with a bunch of other boys of similar age, and the party included going out to eat, so hanging out with Nana was better than being stuck in a car with a bunch of sweaty teenage (or almost) boys!  I took a break from all the work, and we went down the road a ways and played a game of miniature golf.  When we returned home, I cut out and wrote our 'tag sale' signs for the road, and Cami colored them in for me with brightly-colored markers.  She was so much help!  Dinner made in the slow cooker took the trouble of cooking from me; it's great to plan ahead.  After dinner, we cleared the last of the boxes, and I vacuumed the entire house!
Saturday morning, we diligently pulled the table out to the end of the driveway and set up our 'tag sale,' fully anticipating a crowd.  Our first customer was a drive-by at 9:30 a.m.; our sale ran from 9 a.m. to noon.  Cami jumped rope, and I taught her how to use a Nifty Knitter that I was hoping to sell but decided to give to her since she was interested in learning how to use it.  I read.  Our tenant arrived, and Bob, Cami, and I helped her unload the boxes into the front bedroom.  She left for another load.  We had 4 customers during our 'tag sale' and netted a profit of $15 -- certainly not worth all the time I spent preparing for it!
Our tenant returned.  We helped her unload again.  Then we dragged all the 'stuff' back into the garage, where it still sits, keeping our car in the driveway rather than in the garage.  Now we have to post all the 'sellable' articles on Craig's List and haul all the clothes and games off to goodwill.  And it must be done by Friday of this week.
The rest of Saturday was family time.  We had planned to go on a hike at Umstead State Park in Raleigh, but due to illness of some family members earlier in the week and either sick or cranky grandkids, it didn't materialize.  I was too exhausted to go anyway.  Cami and I put up a tent in the back yard; I had originally planned to take the grandkids camping for 2 nights, but God had other plans when our tenant needed a place to stay, so the tent was for the kids to enjoy and play in when they came for dinner that evening.  We had 9 adults, 2 13-year-olds boys (big as adults), 4 other children, and a 5-month-old baby who was teething, come for dinner, which was grilled and eaten outdoors for the 'camping' feeling.  The kids painted small pumpkins.  We had a fire in the firepit, and I've come to the realization that I need to teach my dear husband how to lay out a fire!  Later, I made 'pie irons' for dessert.  Don't ask me to explain; it will take too long!  Finally, I read stories to the little grandkids in the tent by flashlight.  The sun was setting, the temperature was dropping, the fire was down to coals, the baby was screaming, and everyone was gone by 7:30 -- exhausting but fun!  Just writing this has exhausted me again!

More Sharing

I don't believe my husband or I shared our little virus that we caught from my husband's mother; we eventually recovered, but it took us three days before we could eat normally; however, we are going to be sharing something else -- our home.
We've always believed that our house is a gift from God.  By most of the world's standards, we live in a castle; by US standards, not so.  Our home is around 2000 square feet, all on one level, with three bedrooms and two full baths.  High ceilings run throughout, with the entryway having a height of about 16 feet and the living/dining area reaching about 12 feet high.  Side-by-side windows allow the light to pour into the house, which is very welcome when the sun is lower in the sky in the winter months.  After we were married five years ago, we looked for a house for about two months before we found this one; it was actually found on-line by my daughter.  Once we saw it, we immediately knew this was the one that was for us.  All of the other houses we'd looked at had something major that we'd have to change, or something that we decided we could 'live with', or had no yard or too much yard -- always something that didn't make us want to make an offer on it.  But this house, with it's adequate outdoor space that was beautifully landscaped and a large deck that wrapped around the entire back of the house, as well as the fact that it was a single-story home -- ended our search.  Even though someone else had made an offer on the house, we were able to get it because our offer didn't hinge on us first selling my husband's Raleigh house.
This coming weekend, we're going to be having a 'tenant', a young lady that attends our church and has been placed in need due to her roommates' having changes in their lives, move in with us.  We were contacted and asked if we could open our home to her; we met her, she looked at the space, we talked, and she decided that it would work for her. 
Since that decision last Monday, we've been cleaning out the front bedroom, which has been the grandkids' room, holding a twin trundle bed, toys, books, games and stuffed animals.  The closet was crammed with crafting supplies that I had brought with me when I relocated from Connecticut (what was I thinking?).  The middle bedroom, which served as an office for the first owners of the house and has French doors opening into it, holds a futon, my sewing machine, and an old school desk where I make jewelry, along with boxes of Bob's old 33 1/3 records (no kidding!).  Its closet has been stuffed with boxes that he brought from his Raleigh house and which have been sitting on the shelves for 4.5 years!  The past week has been a massive effort to sort and toss, and we've been rather successful, also making a huge pile of stuff to sell this Saturday in what is called a "tag sale".  Up North, we called such sales "garage sales," although one never was selling the garage, but rather all the stuff for sale in the garage or outside it.  So tag sales refer to the tags on the stuff that's for sale either outside or inside one's garage here in the South. 
The front bedroom needs only to be cleaned now and it's ready for our tenant, who will really become more like a daughter as she is 31 years old.  The room looks really nice, more 'grown-up' definitely.  We purchased a storage unit to hold the toys in brightly colored cloth baskets, and it now stores all of the toys that were tossed in a huge plastic bin; we also bought a small shelving unit to hold all of the kids' videos and books, which are now more accessible to them.  After rearranging the furniture in the middle bedroom and cleaning out the unnecessary clutter, it also looks really nice.
With a stack of stuff in the entryway awaiting the tag sale on Saturday and a garbage can full of junk hauled away this morning, we feel a bit relieved to finally be rid of stuff that had no meaning or usefulness in our lives.  I'm not going to regret parting with it in the least.
We're looking forward to having youth in our home again, and it will challenge us, I'm sure, in many ways.  But what is life without challenges?  Only through challenges do we grow, and I imagine we're going to be stretched a bit, but I'm glad for the stretching!  I can celebrate because I'm alive to feel it!  Are you being stretched? 

Sometimes Sharing Isn't a Good Thing

We're all taught to share -- share our toys, share our clothes, share our food, share our time, share our love -- but somtimes it's best NOT to share. 
Bob's mother will be 89 years old on October 18, and she lives in Raleigh at an assisted living facility where she has her own small apartment.  She gets meals provided and the extra help she needs, especially with her medications, and she also has social interaction.  She didn't feel good Monday night into early Tuesday morning and called us several times, telling us how awful she felt; she was vomiting, but the nurses on staff were attending to her.  However, around 6 AM, the staff called and told us that Mom was insisting on going to the hospital, and they needed Bob's permission to send her there since it wasn't a life-threatening event.  She was taken by ambulance to the ER, and we later joined her shortly after 9:30 AM.  She was being monitored and hydrated and tests had been performed and labs run to see if there was an underlying serious cause for her vomiting, which stopped once she arrived at the ER.  She was extremely grateful for our company, almost crying when we showed up.  The doctor told her everything looked normal and that she probably picked up an intestinal virus; she was given water (and she drank a lot of it) and a few crackers, which stayed down, and she was released at 12:15 PM into Bob's care.  We put her in our car and took her back to her apartment and got her settled and comfortable before leaving, both of us to go to work.  Needless to say, we were both exhausted.
Yesterday while at work, I started having diarrhea in the morning.  I had no other issues other than that, but it was pretty severe.  When I got off work, I called Bob, and he sounded awful and said he felt awful -- rumbling painful stomach -- and that he was heading home immediately.  He got there before I did, and the rest of the evening, he sat and moaned in pain when he wasn't sitting on the toilet.  He also felt nauseous.  I had some soup and crackers for dinner and munched on some sunflower seeds before going to bed; Bob ate nothing.  My diarrhea had slowed down, so I thought I was through with whatever I had.  WRONG!  Around 2:20 AM, I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep; I didn't feel bad, so I didn't understand why I couldn't return to sleep.  Then my stomach started churning, my mouth started watering, and I knew I was going to vomit.  It took two false alarms before I actually did, and those sunflower seeds came up with a lot of green bile -- NASTY! 
I'm sorry if I'm offending you, but this is life! 
After my first false alarm, I dressed in sweats and cuddled on the sofa with my cats.  After the second false alarm, I sat in a recliner, my extra-large red plastic bowl close at hand.  After my first up-chuck, I laid down on the twin bed in the front room, right around the corner from the other bathroom, and the cats joined me.  During this entire time, my Restless Leg Syndrome flared, and my legs were twitching, burning and cramping.  What a fun night I had!  Oh, and the diarrhea returned, so I was often sitting on the porcelin throne while holding my big red bowl under my chin.  I've vomited once more since starting this post, and I can honestly tell you that it's been over 20 years since I've been sick enough to vomit.
Mom still wasn't feeling well yesterday; we'll be calling shortly to see how she's doing.  Regardless of how much I love her, I wish she hadn't shared her sickness with us.  Those little germs aren't visible and can take a ride on whomever they please; I just wish it hadn't been me! 

Seeking Change

I'm sure some of my readers have felt, at one point of time in your lives or another, the desire for change.  We change different things in our lives constantly -- clothes, foods, routines, houses, jobs, and sadly, spouses -- and I've come to that point in my life where I want to change what I DO.  I'm a legal secretary and have been that for about 30 years.  I never wanted to enter the professional work force, but faced with caring for my young children by myself due to divorce, I had to find a field of work that would pay well and yield steady employment.  Browsing the newspaper convinced me that I should go into the secretarial field as there were multiple listings for all sorts of secretarial positions.  But I had no training, so I enrolled in a local business college and took a 9-month secretarial course, learning speedwriting, typing, and filing, as well as taking courses in English and accounting.  I also experienced mock interviews in preparation for the real thing.  A month before I graduated, I interviewed for and got a job in the legal field as a secretary for a father/son law firm.  Thus began my legal career.
I've been rather content through the years, but my heart has found a happier home in my writing.  Having written and self-published four books, I intensely yearn to be a professional writer.  The desire burns inside me. 
I took my birthday off from work earlier this month and did a little research on-line regarding publishers and found WestBow Press, which is a division of Thomas Nelson Publishing, one of the biggest names in Bibles and Christian materials.  I was very interested, but the cost of using their services made me choke a little; our finances have been hard-hit with my surgery, a rebuilt engine in my husband's work van, and having that leaning tree at our rental house cut down.  Doling out thousands more at this time makes me cringe.  But I completed a simple form for more information via e-mail, and the next day I was surprised with a phone call from one of their people.  As the call was on my cell phone, he left a message, and after listening to it, I left work 15 minutes early in order to return the call at home.  The rep and I spoke for over 50 minutes, and he was a wealth of information and encouragement to me.  During the next few days, he read the chapter of "Amanda's Hope" that is posted on Amazon.com.  He e-mailed me that it is very well written and that he hopes I'll pursue my dream by using that book to assist in the problem of teen pregnancy in our society.  He also gave me multiple ideas for marketing and promoting the book in order to raise the funds I need to have it published by WestBow.
So that finds me here, seemingly stuck between a rock and a hard place, needing to pursue being a public speaker at rotary clubs, women's groups, churches, doing TV and newspaper interviews, and little time to invest in those pursuits.  I'm gone from the house from 8:45 AM until 5:45 PM, then come home, cook dinner and clean up from dinner, and walk or exercise, necessary since surgery, as well as pay the bills, clean the house, and do the laundry.  I don't usually sit down until 9 PM, and by then I'm exhausted.  Where can I find the time to pursue the marketing and promotional venues that have been suggested to me?
Women who work full-time have two jobs, in my opinion -- their professional job for which they get paid, and their job as wife, mother, homemaker, for which there is no monetary reward, but a deeper, more meaningful reward instead.  I don't have children at home, and I don't know how working women succeed at holding down these two jobs.  Maybe they don't.  Maybe that's why the divorce rate is so high.  Maybe.
I've got to come up with a game plan for promotion and marketing of "Amanda's Hope."  I'm asking God for a miracle here; I'm not happy at my job, but stressed and exhausted.  I want to write, to make a difference in someone's life.  Change that is desired is vastly different than that which is forced, and I desire to be a professional writer, and with God's help, I know that it will come to pass -- in His timing. 

Neighborhood Walks

My husband and I frequently take walks through our neighborhood, a community of about 110 houses.  The main street runs throughout and has several cul-de-sacs.  Fortunately, the main street has a sidewalk, but none of the cul-de-sacs do, which I find odd.  We have to walk on the street until we get to where it connects to the main road before picking up the sidewalk.
Our neighborhood is bordered by one very busy, 4-lane road with a speed limit of 55 mph and another road that is 2-lane with a speed limit of 45 mph.  Both of these roads provide access to our neighborhood.  The other two sides are bordered by slices of natural woods, with the section that abutts our property containing the watershed for the entire area. 
This neighborhood was developed in 2003 and was clear-cut of trees; landfill then leveled the area for building.  As a result, there are no large trees, and many of the trees that exist have struggled to survive through repeated summers of extreme heat and lack of rain. 
We can always count on seeing others on our walk -- people walking their dogs, parents with small children riding their tricycles, older adults strolling hand-in-hand, or people standing in their driveways talking on their cellphone, having private conversations in a public place.  Brief conversations with neighbors occur frequently, especially during the summer months when it doesn't get dark until 9 PM.
I like to look at yards while walking; I'm amazed how some people allow weeds to invade their lawn and don't trim their tree branches (making the tree look more like a shrub).  I see yards that have nothing in them other than the shrubs in front of the house and the 2 trees in the front yard, and I think of what I would do to make that yard beautiful.  It's a virtual empty canvas waiting to be painted with color!  I also see people who drive out of their garages when they go to work and drive back into them when they come home, never using their outdoor spaces.  Lawn mowing services thrive around here because people want a house but they don't want to take care of the space around it!
Smells waft on the air as we walk, too, especially during the evening hours.  Smells of cooking food (this is a multi-racial, multi-ethnic community) and laundry drying permeates the air, often making us wonder what's cooking.  In autumn, we watch as the leaves turn color and fall to the ground, leaving the trees bare and exposed.  It is then that we can see all of the bird nests that sheltered new families during the spring and summer. 
We also watch as people have their lawns reseeded every year; Fescue is the 'recommended' grass for all front lawns, but it can't tolerate heat and drought, so by the end of summer, lawns are spotty and/or barren.  One brave soul in our cul-de-sac had a variety of Zoysia grass laid in her entire yard, much to the chagrin of the Association Board.  "All lawns must look the same, and Zoysia turns brown in the winter," was their reasoning.  Ultimately, the Board gave approval for the sod to stay -- as long as winter rye is planted in the Zoysia in the winter so it is green like all the other grass!  Some rules need to change!  Zoysia (which my husband introduced to our neighbor; it's in our entire back yard) needs little watering in the summer, grows very slowly (much less mowing), and loves the southern heat and humidity; it's the perfect grass for this area, but it's not well-known and is more expensive than Fescue.  We are the only 2 houses that have Zoysia grass, but we hope that will change.
Our neighborhood is quiet, and I thank God that we have a safe place to live, a place that is bordered by and filled with nature.  I can't imagine living surrounded by concrete and tall buildings.  My skyscrapers are the pine, oak, and maple trees that surround our area, all of which will soon be ablaze with the colors of Fall when God takes out his paintbrush and goes crazy!

Aging

I'm proud -- that's correct -- to announce that I turned 62 Monday, September 12.  I'm proud of that fact because many people do not live to see their 62nd birthday.  Birthday celebrations are just that -- celebrations of another milestone reached, another year gone by, a life still happening.
Even as I celebrate aging, there is much about it I DO NOT LIKE!  Utmost, I think, is my lack of energy.  Granted, I'm still not completely recovered from back surgery, which occurred only 3 months ago, but even before that, I noticed that taking care of our small grandsons is physically challenging.  I fall into bed exhausted every night, happy to slip between the covers and drift into oblivion, at the end of most days now.
Another unlikeable thing is the fact that my skin is not the same; it has an 'elephant skin' look, for lack of a better term, when some specific body movements occur.  Muscle tone is also not the same; my upper arms have a way of sagging when I hold my arms out.  Gone is my youthful countenance; instead, age spots are starting to dot my arms and legs.  Thankfully, so far my face seems to have escaped being attacked by this aging malady!  Vericose veins create roadmaps to nowhere on my legs, leaving my young grandson, Niland, wondering what happened to my legs.  "Old age," I tell him.  Any other explanation would simply be impractical. 
On the other hand, there are several things that are a plus.  I can live with my white hair; in fact, I often get compliments on it because it's a rather unusual shade of white.  No longer do I get carded; instead, I get senior discounts in many places.  No longer am I called "Miss" but "Ma'am" instead.  And I'm finally getting the respect I believe I've deserved all of my life!
Pros and cons -- pluses and minuses -- yes, aging has both, but I'm so very grateful to my Lord and Saviour for granting me as many days as He has -- and I hope He grants me many more.  Even as I age day by day, I pray that I will be a positive influence for God on our children -- even as adults -- and all of our grandchildren, because the legacy I leave has nothing to do with money or stuff but with bringing my family into the kingdom of God. 
Happy aging, everyone!  I take comfort in the fact that you're getting older, too, just like me.  My daughter gently reminded me on my birthday that I was still 20 years older than her.  True, but the percentage gap is closing! 

Ten Years Later

September 11, 2001 -- forever etched into our memories.  Every person in America, alive and old enough on that day to truly understand the events that unfolded before us on live television, can tell you where they were and what they were doing.  I was working around my house in Danbury, Connecticut, prior to going into work at 2 PM at a local office supply store.  After hearing that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center, I turned on the television a few minutes after the second plane had found its intended target.  Glued to the TV, nothing else got done around the house, and I had to pull myself away when it came time to go to work.  The store was unusually quiet that day, few sales and stunned people quietly conversing as they checked out.  Danbury, Connecticut, had many residents who commuted to NYC for work, and the fear and disbelief at the magnitude of the event was palpalable everywhere.
Over the last 2 days, my husband and I have watched numerous programs on television, pregnant with stories of pain, suffering, and survival, of that fateful day.  Repeatedly, we watched recorded history as the planes hit and the towers crumbled violently in massive cloud of debris and dust.  Yesterday, we watched as the reflecting pools were dedicated, as the names of all of the victims were read, as people touched the names of their loved ones on the brass plates encircling the pools, and as people wept and remembered that day.  At first, I thought I'd tire of seeing tragedy relived, but I didn't.  It's not that I enjoyed it -- not at all.  I just don't want to forget that day.  I don't want to forget that hundreds of thousands of people were literally traumatized by being part of that terrorist attack, either by being in the buildings and surviving, by being in the area and having to be evacuated, by running for their lives when the towers fell, by knowing that loved ones were trapped in those towering infernos, or by losing a loved one either on one of the planes or in the towers.  No, I don't want to forget that their lives -- and ours -- were forever changed -- and why.
The lunar cycle is at full moon right now, and as I sat outside the other night, gazing upon the shadows of the moon's soft light bathing our back yard, I thanked God for the peaceful place in which I live; for the fact that I can sleep without fear; that there aren't gunshots ringing outside our doors; that we have a large greenspace that we can call our own; and that we have multiple blessings of family.  America is a great nation -- although not without problems -- and I thank God that her people are resilient and strong. 
"When I shut up the heavens so that there is no rain, or command locusts to devour the land or send a plague among my people, if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land."  2 Chronicles 7:13-14
The Word of the Lord is forever true.

Timber!

My husband and I have another house in Raleigh that we rent to my son and his family.  It is located in a part of the city called North Hills, which is very wooded; the lots were not clear-cut when the homes were built in the late 50's and early 60's.  When Bob lived there with his family, he cut down numerous pine trees to allow some light into the yard so grass could grow.  Two huge oak trees were left standing in the front yard, and one of those had become a problem through the passing years.
The huge red oak tree, estimated to be 95 feet tall, started leaning to the south this summer.  It had always leaned a little, but this year it was on the move.  All of the branches on the tree were on the south side because of another tree being on its northern side, and one branch, which hung low and which the boys could touch while swinging on the tree swing, dropped so low that those same little boys could touch it from the ground!  A crack about 8 feet long also appeared on the north side of the trunk of the tree, so it was clear that it was leaning and was in danger of coming down during a storm -- or at any time.  If it came down voluntarily, it would take out all of the wires that ran down the street on the poles, knocking out electricity, phone and internet service to who knows how many people.
So we had to call a tree cutting service to remove the tree.  I worked half a day that Friday, the day before Hurricane Irene visited North Carolina, and hurried over to the house when I got off work.  The huge tree was reduced to a stump by the time I arrived.  Bob was there and had taken photos of the entire process, from topping off the branches to taking down the trunk.  Curious to know the approximate age of the tree, Bob counted 115 rings on the trunk.  We should have measured the base of the trunk, but we didn't; however, we estimate that it was at least 4 feet across at its widest point.
Our young grandsons thought it was the grandest thing to stand on that stump and jump down, slipping and sliding down the slope covered with wood chips.  Later, a stump grinder arrived and finished reducing the stump to chips.
The tree is not all chips, though.  A lot of the larger limbs were left for us to cut as firewood, and the trunk was cut into huge sections to be milled into oak boards.  The owner of the tree trimming company, who also owns a mill, told me that the tree would yield some very nice boards.  So, we had to pay him a large chunk of cash to take down that tree, and he's going to make probably at least that much by selling the boards he gets from it!  Go figure!
By viewing the photos and videos Bob took, I was able to see how those guys, totally oblivious to how high up they were, cut, segmented and lowered all the branches and trunk, not allowing one of them to drop heavily to the ground and gouge the lawn.  It was amazing to watch.

Needless to say, Bob and I were very relieved that the tree was down before Hurricane Irene came to town.  The winds were only around 40 mph in Raleigh with about 1.5 inches of rain, but considering how far the tree had leaned, even that degree of storm could have spelled disaster. 
The bigger they are, the harder they fall, and this one would have fallen hard.
We've asked for a board from the tree to make a bench for our garden -- I hope our request is granted.  It would be a nice reminder of that mighty red oak. 

Raising Monarchs

I must apologize for the lapse in blogging; going back to work has thrown me for a loop.  It's amazing how out-of-contact one can become with one's job when one isn't there for almost 4 months!  Returning part-time wasn't bad; I was able to rest when I got home around 1:30, but the return to full-time has been difficult.  Because I still have fluid buildup at the surgery site, my back starts to burn around 4 PM every day, and I don't get off work until 5:30, so it's a grin-and-bear-it late afternoon for me.  Ibuprofen helps, but it really takes rest for me to feel better. 
I miss my hummingbirds while I'm at work, and I think they miss me!  TRULY!  When I get home and go outside, the little birds are soon flying around in front of my face, seemingly asking me where I've been.  I'll miss them even more when they head south for the winter.  While they're gone, I'll fill our bird feeders and enjoy the birds that winter here.  Currently, we have a lot of American Gold Finches feasting on the zinnias that splash our gardens with color.  The birds perch on the flowers and pluck the petals out, then eat the soft seeds at the end of the petals.  Flowers with missing petals, and there are many of those, are easily spotted when I cut flowers for the house, but there are so many zinnias that I don't mind sharing with my feathered friends.  The finches come in early morning and evening like clockwork. 
I'm happy to report that the monarch butterflies returned to my yard and laid eggs on the butterfly weed, and I've watched the caterpillars grow as big as my small finger.  Curious to keep a chrysalis to watch it hatch, I placed a large caterpillar in a huge glass vase, added a very wet paper towel to the bottom, cut a large piece of butterfly weed, stuck it in the paper towel, and finally covered the opening with a piece of netting.  As I hoped, the caterpillar is on its way to becoming a butterfly.  When I got home one evening earlier this week, the caterpillar was hanging by his back end (it actually is a small, very strong connector made of silken thread), and in the morning, it was hanging in a J position and getting darker.  When I came home that day, it was totally transformed into its chrysalis, or pupa stage.  This is the most amazing process, and if you search the internet for raising monarch butterflies, you'll be able to find sites that have amazing photographs of the entire process.  The chrysalis is jade green surrounded by a necklace of golden dots -- amazingly beautiful.
Encouraged by my success, I've "caged" two other caterpillars which have chrysalized and have put the two chrysalises into a butterfly house made of netting.  (I found another crawling on the deck, and I've spotted one more chrysalis hanging from a flower pot.)  Moving and bumping them should be minimal, so I've placed them in our screen room so they can be in the natural air.  Unfortunately, not all caterpillars make it to the chrysalis stage; I found one dead on the butterfly weed, and another started to chrysalize on the side of our fabric-covered gazebo top, but at the end of the day, it was dripping -- not a pretty sight.  The other caterpillars on our butterfly weed have wandered off and chrysalized (they are very difficult to find), but I found one chrysalis on the cup holder of one of my lawn chairs  I placed it in the sun room to join my other four babies, but left the chrysalis where it was.  After being gone to my son's house for dinner Saturday evening, I checked on it, and the wings were clearly visible through the now-clear chrysalis.  This morning when I got up, I checked again, knowing that it would soon emerge (see photo attached), and when Bob got up a while later, I told him that the butterfly would certainly emerge today, and when he went to look at it, it had already done so.  Wings soft and pliable, it readily climbed onto my finger.  I took one of my vase of flowers outside to grace the table in the gazebo while we were eating breakfast and placed the new butterfly on the flowers.  Later, I put them in the open air, and when we returned from church, our new baby had flown away.  This butterfly, and those that will be emerging soon, will travel to Mexico to overwinter before mating and returning to the US.  It is only the generation born now that makes the trip and lives for 9 months; summer generations live a mere 4 - 5 weeks.  In the spring, they will mate and return to the northern states, laying eggs on butterfly weed and milkweed as they go. 

I hope you enjoy the attached photos -- from tiny caterpillar to Monarch butterfly -- and marvel at the process of metamorphosis that God has created. 

Adjusting

Three days back at work part-time, and I'm still not with the program!  In a way, it feels like I never left, and in other ways, I still feel like I'm somewhere else!  Some things have changed, both with company computer programs, and with employees, so I've had to ask questions and re-acclimate to the system. 
I'm rather bummed today -- can't bring myself to do much of anything since I got home.  I did a little weed pulling in the flower beds, and that was good, but the sun was torturously hot!  When I started, the sun was behind a much-appreciated cloud, but it moved on and left me with no shade, so the task quickly ended. 
It feels good, at least, to finally be able to do some work outside.  Being forced to watch weeds grow all summer irritated me to no end, so being able to get back at them and pull them made me feel good!  But the process is slow as there are so many weeds and only my two hands. 
I miss the baby birds that lived in the birdhouse for several weeks.  They fledged about four days ago, and if I'd sat and watched continuously, I would have seen them leave, but they were there one minute, sticking their heads out and chirping madly, and the next minute, they were gone.  It's quiet now.  They chirped so loudly that we could hear them with the windows and doors closed.
The monarch butterflies are now abundant in my yard, much to my relief.  I don't know why they took so long to show up, but I'm glad they've arrived.  They migrate to Mexico every year, so maybe they're like me -- reluctant to make the long journey. 
Adjustment is never easy, and the older I get, the more difficult it is for me.  It won't be long before I can start counting the days until retirement!  By then, my oldst grandchild will be in college! 

Returning to Normal

Here I sit, and in less than 1.5 hours, I'll be back at work.  Preparing mentally and emotionally, as well as physically, hasn't been easy.  I greatly appreciate my job, but being in the workforce was not something I chose but was necessary when my children were very small.  As with many things in life, events occur which put us in positions in which we never would have gone voluntarily, and that's what happened to me.  I've never been able to break that cycle and have remained in the work force out of necessity all of my adult life.  The last 3.5 months, although filled with pain, have given me a break from the rat-race of life, and returning to it is going to take some adjusting.  My cats will certainly miss my presence at home!
As with every challenge I've ever faced, I'm looking to God to hold me up during this time of transition.  I'm trusting that, once I've gotten back into the groove of work, I'll be glad to be there. 
By the way, I saw my first monarch butterfly in our yard yesterday and watched as it flew from one butterfly weed to the next laying its eggs.  As I sit and type this, I'm looking out our windows and have seen several other monarchs this morning, and I'm thrilled about seeing them.  Soon we'll have those gorgeous caterpillars devouring the plants.  All of this reminds me that the cycle of life goes on and that God has orchestrated all of it. 

Where are all the Monarchs?

Monarch butterflies usually abound in our area, but this year, strangely and disturbingly, I haven't yet seen one.  I plant dozens of butterfly weed, a member of the milkweed family of plants, just for the purpose of attracting monarchs, which lay their eggs on the plants.  The eggs hatch and feast on the plants, and I've had such a marvelous time in past years watching the process and being amazed at it.  This year, however, it's already mid August, and I have yet to see one monarch.  The butterfly weed in my flower beds isn't being devoured by those magnificent, colorful caterpillars as they reach 2" long before chrysalizing into these gorgeous turquoise and gold nuggets suspended all over the place.  I often don't find the chrysalises until they are empty, sometimes the following spring, as they are very well hidden.  When I have found one, I watch it closely as the color deepens over the next 2-3 weeks, and right before the butterfly emerges, the chrysalis turns a dark turquoise, the butterfly clearly visible through its thin shell.
But this year, alas, no monarchs.  I've had many other butterflies, but not one monarch, and I've certainly been home enough and outside enough to have seen them if they were here.  Obviously, something has upset the balance of nature and the monarchs' passage through this area, and I'm concerned about that.  I keep checking the butterfly weed to see if any eggs, small as a grain of salt, have shown up, but nothing to date.  The eggs quickly hatch into tiny caterpillars, and they grow like crazy as they strip the plants of vegetation.  The caterpillars boast "horns" on both ends, totally harmless and entirely for show to look threatening to predators, and the bright greenish/yellow and black stripes make them striking in appearance.

Here is a photo taken previously -- and in the meantime, I'll keep my eyes out for any monarchs. 

Moving Forward -- FINALLY!

The doctor visit last Friday yielded good news -- no new bulging or herniation of any discs in my back -- only an excessive amount of fluid buildup at the surgical site!  This should be absorbed with time.  That is what has been causing my pain, but I can say that I've seen a good deal of improvement in the last few days, which is a relief.  I'm planning on returning to work next Monday on a half-day basis for two weeks -- FINALLY!
Our weekend was busy.  Our five small grandsons, all four years of age or less, came for a visit and playtime together on Saturday, and again I'm reminded why only young people have children.  They wear me out!  All of the activity playing, running, squishing play-doh, and feeding that noisy crew is enough to exhaust even the most active grandparent!  But we thoroughly enjoyed having them.  However, we cleaned up after them in stages -- it was just too much to do all at once!  Saturday evening we got together with our "Overdrive" friends from church, a lively bunch of "older folks", to eat and share news and fellowship.  As usual, so much good food made it easy to eat too much!
Sunday saw a trip to our daughter's country club pool -- again with grandchildren, but this time it included Luke (almost 13 years old), Cami (9), Niland (4), and Benny (2).  Little Benny showed up a bit bruised from a fall down the entire flight of wood stairs at his house right before they got ready to leave.  His daddy said that he didn't even cry but looked rather shell-shocked when he got to the bottom.  He's going to have a black eye and bruise on his left cheek -- poor little guy!  But he loves to swim and was soon enjoying his cousins, uncle and aunt, daddy and his nana in the water.  He wears his floaty and floats around in 4 feet of water, perfectly comfortable with being bouyant, and loves to blow bubbles in the water.  Niland has learned to hold his breath and go under water; he's a crazy boy in the pool!  Both of them loved going down the spiral slide and into the water, too.  Cami and Luke have been good swimmers since they were 3 years old, so they were a great help with the small boys.  Niland and Benny will be taking their second swim classes at the Y sometime soon, and I'm sure they'll impress their teachers.
Bob chose not to go to the pool -- he's not a pool person, and he would have gotten a royal sunburn!  So I let him stay home, where he continued to work on painting our kitchen and breakfast area, which is being transformed by the fresh light color.  The area has a vaulted ceiling, but the dark paint (I call it green, but others call it gray) has swallowed the light and has hidden art work, the ceiling fan, and the glass shelf unit, but the light color -- officially called "Mint Whisper" -- has given the room an entirely new look and feel.  The room features 4 sliding glass doors and 2 windows, so there's plenty of light, but the paint swallowed the light and cast a dark hue on everything.  I'm so glad it's going away!
Bob joined us for dinner at my daughter's house, always a fun, tasty affair.  Time with family is so precious; we're blessed to have all of our children and grandchildren close by.  It makes it easy for us to be a part of their lives on a regular basis. 
Now I've got to prepare myself for return to work -- this hasn't been a vacation, but it will be an adjustment to return to punching the time-clock!  I am very thankful that I have a job! 

Waiting

Tomorrow is the doctor's appointment that will give me the go-ahead to return to work or keep me out of work for longer.  I'll get the results of my latest MRI, and I'm really curious as to what is causing the left-side back pain.  Some days the pain is minimal; other days it's almost debilitating.  Doing too much of anything causes it to flare up and my back to burn with pain, so I limit what I do, but sometimes the pain seems to come of its own volition. 
I can't believe that the last time I worked was April 29!  Three months have passed, and in that time, spring changed to summer and summer is now full throttle.  It just doesn't seem possible that I've been out of work with this back problem for so long.  I feel disconnected from my job -- which I am -- and wonder how in the world I'll get reacclimiated when I return, whenever that will be.  Before long, summer will be winding down -- especially in the northern tier of states -- and the days are already getting shorter.  With my first back surgery, I was at home during the winter solstice, and this time, I was home for the summer solstice.  Two extremes, two opposites, and the seasons move on without me doing anything to assist.
I've been watching a birdhouse, one that my granddaughter painted in early spring, because there is a family of wrens in it; I have no idea how many chicks there are because I can't see inside.  The parents have been doggedly bringing insects, caterpillars, and other assorted insects to their young, and I've wondered how in the world those little birds survive this heat.  We've known about them being there for almost two weeks, so they must be getting ready to fledge, and they have endured days of 100+ degree heat several times, yet they are out there chirping like mad when a parent shows up in the portal with something to eat.  How do they survive without water?  How do they survive being packed tightly together in the heat?  How do they survive when the birdhouse swings gently in the blistering sun? 
Then I remember that God takes care of them, that He will take care of me, and that He takes care of all of His children.  The child in me is happy to forever be God's child.  I can always be dependent upon Him. 

Diagnosis?

I feel like I'm whining, and that's definitely not what I want to do.  The surgery seems to have cleared up the initial disc problem, but apparently something else has gone awry on my left side.  The pain has been pretty much non-stop, with good days and bad days, good nights and bad nights, since my first experience with a urinary tract infection, keeping me from feeling good.  Having taken the tapered prednisone prescribed by my doctor, I waited another week to see if the pain would subside, and it didn't, so I called him on Tuesday.  I went in for another MRI on Wednesday morning.
I'm not thrilled that I had to undergo another MRI, which is like having 500 x-rays taken, but I DO want to know why I have so much pain in the left side of my back, which radiates throughout my entire left hip area.  I'm not claustrophobic, so sliding into that narrow tube didn't bother me; however, laying on that table caused my back to roar with pain.  By the time I was slid out of the tube, I had tears in my eyes because the pain was so bad.  The nurse had to help me sit up.  I now have to wait until next Friday, August 5, for me to see my doctor and get the results of the MRI. 
In the meantime, I've tried to increase my walking distance and went about half a mile with my husband last evening, after dark, when it was a mere 90 degrees outside, a considerable drop from the high temperature of 102 that day.  At least the sun wasn't beating down on us!  When we were heading back to our house, I mentioned to Bob that my back was hurting, but it didn't get any worse, and I slept well until around 6 AM today.  Within an hour of rising, however, my back burned and throbbed with pain.  Even taking 2 pain pills did not take away the extreme discomfort, although it did take the edge off the pain after about 2 hours.  I wonder if walking so far had anything to do with it.  There's no way to tell, I guess, unless I do the same thing some other evening.
So I'm trying to manage the pain while I wait for next Friday to be told what the MRI revealed.  Whatever it reveals, I pray that it doesn't require surgery. 

An Epidemic

This blog is a far cry from my normal writing and not pleasant to discuss, but I hope you read on.  I've been sickened by what I hear in the news almost daily.
There's an epidemic running rampant in this country, and it's horrific beyond description.  Fathers are killing the mothers of their children.  Yes, killing the very women to whom they made love and with whom they fathered children -- how horrendous is that!?  They are also killing their pregnant wives!  In the Raleigh/Durham area alone, there are multiple cases involving such crimes, two of which have occurred during the last two weeks.  These crimes are beyond my comprehension, and I hope they are beyond yours, too.
The very people that God has commanded to protect their wives are killing them instead.  Many times the couple is no longer married or never married in the first place, but had children together, and are going through a bitter custody battle.  How can any man raise a hand to women they have bedded?  (I can't say "loved" because if they loved that woman, they never would be able to murder her.)  The most recent case in my area involves a man and his current wife, by whom he had a child this past spring, murdering his former girlfriend, by whom he had two boys, now ages 1 and 3, dismembering her body, packing it in coolers, and driving it to another state, where it was tossed into a creek.  Their attempt to go undiscovered obviously didn't pay off because they are now behind bars and not allowed bail.  This horrific crime has stunned this area and has emphasized the fact that men are abdicating their responsibilities to women, their wives, and their children. 
The Bible has hundreds of references to the word "father", and the Psalms and Proverbs are filled with words of wisdom as to the responsibility of fathers toward their children.  The way men treat women nowadays is a far cry from honoring and cherishing them, and pointing fingers at other nations and the way they treat their women seems to be a bit hypocritical when an epidemic of murdering mothers has gripped this nation.  Yes, other nations do treat their women unjustly; that's a known fact.  Yet men in this country have turned a harsh hand toward women that have given birth to their children, and something must be done about it.  But what?
I heard a statistic recently, and I wish I could remember the exact figures, but it had to do with the number of families that actually had fathers present and active in them.  About 30 years ago, 79% of families had a father, but currently only 47% do.  Women are being impregnated and left to handle the responsibilities of raising a fatherless child.  This is breeding disaster for our nation and for any other country which is in the same boat. 
If a country loses its moral compass, anything goes, and we are slipping down a slope that encourages irresponsibility, selfishness, corruption, dishonesty, immorality, deceit, and a belief that anyone can do what they want, when they want.  Such a sad state of affairs will not go unnoticed by God.  It's time to get back to basics, back to family, and back to faith. 

How Hot Is It?

For those of you who live in hotter climates (I know there are some), seeing temperatures climb to 103 degrees is nothing, but for those of us in the Carolinas, this is record-breaking heat.  The hottest temperature ever recorded in North Carolina is 105, and that occurred back in 1952, if I'm remembering correctly the information passed on by the weather man.  So today is the fourth consecutive day that we've seen 100 or better, and all I can say is hot is hot!  Once it hits 100 degrees, what does it matter if it climbs to 103 or 105?  For me, it doesn't matter at all!  It just gets more miserable to be outside!  Needless to say, I don't go outside unless I have to, but since I have my daughter's 2 dogs for the weekend, outside I must go several times a day.  It feels like I'm opening an oven door when I slide the door open; I'm tempted to place a skillet in the sun, add a little oil, and drop in an egg -- just to see if it will cook!  I don't doubt for a minute that it would!
My granddaughter Cami is with me for the weekend while her mother and father take her brother to a camp in Pennsylvania -- in the mountains where it will be a heck of a lot cooler!  Cami and I have thought about going to the pool, which we'll probably do tomorrow, but if we go, I'm going to take my beach umbrella so I can have some shade.  The thought of sitting in the sun, albeit soaking wet, simply does not appeal to me.  There are better ways to spend an afternoon, like in the air-conditioning!
Even the dogs have come to appreciate the cool air inside.  Neither one of them wants to be outside for long, and who can blame them.  They are black as coal and get too hot to touch if left in the sun long enough.  I pity those with black hair in weather like this and thank God that mine is now white!
Rain has been absent from our area even though showers have fallen elsewhere.  I've told God that I sure could use a little help in keeping the vegetation in my yard alive -- He does a much better job of watering than I do in a fraction of the time, and it's free!
If you live in the part of the US that is experiencing this excessive heat, stay cool and stay hydrated, and if you have pets, please bring them inside.  In the meantime, pray for relief!