First Day Musings --- Beauty

Margaret Tarrant Post Card



Margaret Tarrant has been one of my favorite illustators for years. Her work is tender and soft, with light that makes me think of Turner. Her children are my especial delight -- along with her goats... of course. She has a way of capturing the innocent and the pure. It is the perfect world.

Have you ever found an artist that you drew inspiration from? Someone whose work made you realize that life could be different?

Many of us instantly think of Tasha Tudor. Her work and life were inspiring and made us think, for a minute or two, that we could live like that. We could find simple joy in the day-to-day. Life had possiblities when we considered her work. We saw beauty.

So much of life is spent missing the beauty around us. Crystal snowflakes slipping through the frigid air. The smell of a doe coming in to feed from the brisk air. The nuzzle of a little nose in the palm of one's hand as it looks for One More Cookie. The dusky smell of a narcissus as it blooms in the house, bringing in a touch of spring on a very cold winter day.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, as the saying goes. Yet, we must have the eye to see. I once read that a way to keep one's mind sharp is to watch for one special colour as one walks or travels through a day. It is an interesting theory and one that is challenging and, frankly, rather fun.

This week, I challenge you to do one thing: create something beautiful in your life. It doesn't have to be a big thing -- for me this week it was purchasing a small $3 cluster of miniature tea roses (white with a green edge), breaking up the cluster into three little nosegays and placing them in unexpected places -- the bathroom, foyer, and kitchen counter.

Love of beauty is taste. The creation of beauty is art.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Have a beautiful week!

First day musings --- A Favor?

Dear Person In Charge,

The day after Halloween, I was in a certain big box store and heard Christmas music. I took a deep breath, finished my shopping, and vowed not to go back in there until New Year's Day. I was Perfectly Okay with that as I don't like the big box store anyhow and olnly went in there because I Had To.

Last week, I turned my car radio on to my favorite oldies station. Christmas Music. Yeppers. Fa-la-la-la-la. Bleh.

Today, I was coming home from my parent's house. Sigh. There it was. A huge annoying over-the-top Inflatable Santa. If I had my BB gun, I would have shot it. Numerous times.

I'm not a humbug. I am not a Scrooge. But, starting Christmas three months early is like having candy every day for breakfast. After a few days, you start to want something different. Would it be too much to ask that if Chrsitmas has to be commercialized, can it at least wait until AFTER Thanksgiving? If you would only wait until then, I will be the very first to stand on my porch, stringing those atrocious lights, setting up my inflatable Santa Claus and singing "Deck the Halls!" at the top of my lungs.

Thanks,

Your Friend Matty

First Day Musings -- Life on the Farm

We had good friends drop in yesterday to admire our woodstove while they consider if they want one or not for their place. Of course, we are sold on it, even though there is that whole having to cut wood all summer thing. It is affordable, warm, and, most of all, heats the whole house --- which is a novel experience as we couldn't before.

They wandered the property, watching as I took the girls to graze across the road for a bit, fed the hens, and then the goats. And they followed the Mister as he fed the bucks and put out hay. They repeatedly said, "We could never do what you do" as they watched us. I just laughed.

Most days on the farm, I love it. And then there are the days when the goats won't mind, the bucks beat me half to death, the dogs drag in deer parts, and the rain or cold makes it nearly impossible to get out. Or there are the days when I just don't want to do this; I just want to live in a condo somewhere and someone else does the yard work. In short, I am run down at the heels dead dog tired.

When the Airman was a wee Airman and it was just the two of us, this is the life I dreamt of and wanted. Now that I have it, I am sad that I am more than half through my life and on the downhill side at that. Yet, I can see that living here, doing what I do, will keep me younger and healthier than if I were in that condo. I would perish there.

Jane has the most marvelous post about how we all find what we love even when no one else shares that love. I guess that is how I feel about here. My dear friend Darlene made the comment that this house would do until she could find something better, I have to remind myself that her idea of better is a modular home in town. It is warm, safe, comfortable, but it would not suit me anymore than living here would suit her.

So, for all its quirks, there really is no place like home. Even if the chickens are on the porch and the goats eat my roses. It is home. What do you love most about your home?

First Day Musings --- Storm Clouds

Impossible to tell from this, but there is a storm brewing. Wind is blowing. Thunder rolling. No lightening, but you know how quickly that can change.

When I was a wee Matty, we had a lot of storms, much more than we have today or so it seems. I was terrified by the noise, flashing lights, and, most of all, the combination of the two in rapid succession. My father's mother shared that terror, but my mother's mother didn't. She seemed perfectly at peace with all the commotion.

One day, she propped me up beside her, after dragging me from under her kitchen table where I was sucking on one of her fist-sized biscuits dripping in honey, and said, "Now, hunny, the Bible says that the thunder is God's voice and the lightening shows His power. Just sit back and think about how great our God is and you won't be worried at all."

Needless to say, there was a roll of thunder and a flash as she said those words. It was as if God was saying, "Yeppers; you listen to your Grandma, child!"

And I promptly squirted under the table.

Many years have passed since then. Grandma is serving biscuits in heaven (Lord, please let her be waiting by the Gates with a plate of steaming ones for me). I am all grown up and have been through many storms, natural and spiritual. And, not surprisingly at all, I can hear my Grandma's sweet voice reminding me that God is right here and going through the storm provides proof.

So, let the storm come. I am going to make myself some limeade, snuggle a cat and watch the fireworks. Grandma was right. It just takes trust.

Grandma's Limeade

Juice six limes.

Bring to a boil one cup sugar and one cup water to make a syrup. Let cool to room temperature.

Add syrup to the limes and add enough water to make two quarts. If you wish, add slices of lime to the pitcher before serving over ice.

This works well with lemons, too!

First Day Musings --- An Eye for an Eye

Warning: Rant below.

This week a friend and I had a very interesting exchange. She confided she had been to her doctor for "dope" -- read: anti-depressants. The doctor asked her if she had thoughts of "doing harm to herself or others." My friend stated, laughingly, "all the time!" As we talked, we realized that we both share a common, er, concern: that we feel as though every direction we turn someone wants something from us.

That night, I picked up my current night-night book, Land of Long Ago, by Eliza Calvert Hall Obenchain, and started reading the next little story "An Eye for an Eye." In the story, Aunt Jane relates how a friend of hers had a sort of nervous breakdown after a sermon on an eye for an eye -- that what we give out comes back to us in kind. The friend's husband, in this story, was the victim of some kind of destructive prank: hoes left in the field, grain thrown around the barn, cows out, and so forth. In short, someone was undoing all his work! As the story unfolded, it turns out his wife (Aunt Jane's friend) was returning to him what he had done to her all their married life: undone her work. He had come into the house with muddy feet, thrown his clothes around, left dirty dishes scattered, and so on. We all, as women, can understand this, can't we? So, she was giving him an eye for an eye back.

As I read this story, I thought about how so many women, myself included, struggle with conflicting feelings of insufficiency. We try to be all things, but, in short, we are a dab of this and that. Very few of us manage to successfully be all things to all people. Thus, we end up spread far too thin and very unhappy. In fact, if the truth be told, I dare say nearly all us at one time or another has thought: "If I were just dead, this pain would end."

Where do these feelings start? Is it the fact that magazines shout at us that we should have this kind of home? Or is it those TV shows with the perfectly decorated and maintained house? Or, is it the myth that as women we can be all things to all people? Or maybe it is the lie of so-called "radical feminism" that we are better than our male counterparts and as such we should be able to do it all and still be thin, dressed impecably, and pleasant.

Whatever it is, I am tired of playing the game. Are you? My sink has dirty dishes; my flowerbeds are overrun with weeds; dirty laundry is piled head high on the washer; and the goats' stalls need a good cleaning. I can't do it all. I can only do what I can do. And, I am not going to sacrifice the joy of living with the prison of doing, of keeping up with whoever is making the rules. In short, I am taking my ball and going home --- even if it isn't perfect.

First Day Musing --- Choices, or I Can't

For several months now we have engaged in what has seemed to be a lifelong project of clearing out someone's house and yard.

This weekend has proved nearly too much for me.

If I hear one more time, "I can't do that any longer because..." I am going to most likely pitch a fit that would do the worst two-year-old honor.

What is it that causes someone to give up on life? To give up doing the things they love, even if it means doing less of it? Why does someone just sit down?

Several folks I know deal with serious issues. One person has MS, but continues to shoot pool, ski, and hike. Another has 60% oxygen levels and is on oxygen all the time yet manages to scrape ONE window a day and paint it. And, yet another person I know has 70% heart function but continues farming, working on projects and, most of all, planning what will be done Next Year.

Why would someone who has very little health issues just quit living?

It is beyond me.

The Bible says that no matter how old we get, we all have something we can give:

Psalms 92:14a they shall still bring forth fruit in old age.

Ecclesiastes 9:10 Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest.
That's what I want. I want to be fruitful till the very last minute of my life. I want to have a reason to get up and the ability to give joy to someone every day. I want to be a blessing and not a curse.

How do you envision your greying years??

First Day Musings -- Beautiful, Smart, or Interesting??

Yesterday at the Farmer's Market I was introduced by someone very kind as "the most unusual woman I know." I took it as a great compliment.

All my life, I have been marked as "unusual." As a wee little Matty, I can remember my parents saying to a neighbor one time: "Missy is beautiful; Mark is smart; Matty, well, she is interesting."

At the time my feelings were crushed. After all, who doesn't want to be smart and / or beautiful? But, I adored (and still adore) my sissie, so I can't be angry with her because she is beautiful. And, my brother is still as smart as ever and that doesn't anger me either. Me? I have come to understand that being interesting doesn't fade or change. One just gets more so.

Let me explain.

Think about people you know. Don't you enjoy the ones who are unexpected -- that is to say -- different in their approach to life? Don't you find their joy infectious? Isn't being around someone who is living as they define life inspiring?

Now, I am not saying I am all these things. Far from it! However, as I reflect, I realize that I have always seen life a little differently from most. There is no memory of my learning to read; I seem to have always done so. Heck, I read Thoreau when I was seven and "Gone with the Wind" when I was in fifth grade. I published a neighborhood newspaper which I sold for a penny door-to-door when I was eight. I believed in fairies (and still do), have seen angels, and know that the hand of God has put me in a safe place when I should have been long gone. I believe in grace and mercy. And, I believe that we are all special and unique with something important to do in this world.

And, so, as we approach this coming week, isn't it time we all learned to live our lives as we should -- being true to who and what we are? Isn't it time that we show mercy, kindness, and understanding to those who seem interesting or unusual? In short, isn't it time we become more of a model of He Who Made Us?

First Day Musings -- Happy Mother's Day, Baboo!

Julia Ward Howe

When Julia Ward Howe decided we needed a "Formal Date" to remember and honor our mothers, she was only making official what most of us have always done: adored our Mothers. I know I do mine, even though, as most of us confess, our Mother was not always our favorite person.

While I could tell you about the challenges she faced as a child and young woman, I would prefer to tell you about her today. She is remarkable.

She became Baboo when I ws pregnant with the Airman. She was with me for the ultrasound and wryly commented that he "looked like a monkey" as he was so active. I replied that "every monkey has a baboon in his family tree" and thus, her nickname of Baboo was born. All the grandchildren affectionately call her that now. NO Grandma for her!

At nearly 80, she still has red hair, bright blue eyes, and can out walk her three adult children and three grandsons on any given day. Her quick Scot-Irish temper serves her well as she refuses to be "treated like an old person" and she will quickly tell my sister and me that we are not going to push her into old age. I believe her.

She works from 6 a.m. until 6 p.m., stopping only for lunch or to read a little. She and my father still work at their many rental properties every day, painting, cleaning, laying carpet, fixing plumbing or whatever needs done. They only call a "specialist" when they are stumped. That is seldom!

Mother makes the best pound cake in the world and loves to have "something baked" and on the counter when her family or friends drop by. Her cure for anything is a cuppa hot tea -- Red Rose, of course. Breakfast is her least favorite meal, which is why Daddy makes sure to always cook bacon, eggs, biscuits, and fruit. I am convinced he just likes to torture her with that --- and his rendition of the "Star Spangled Banner" every morning.

"Painting with flowers" is her therapy and pulling weeds is her greatest stress relief. We will find her, hind end up, in the garden, fussin', cussin', and cryin'. Sometimes we giggle just out of her hearing as we listen to the blue streak streaming from her mouth. I learned my first swear word from her when I was six. She ran a red light in Charlotte and was ticketed for it. As we drove off, she muttered, "D---! Now your father is going to fuss!" So, obviously, the next time I spilt my milk at the table (which was EVERY meal when I was six), I muttered, "D---! Now Mother is going to fuss!" Daddy made sure I knew never to say it again and Mother and he had a "little talk" about "swearing in front of the children." Yeah. That's my Mother...

The greatest sadness in her life was when her own Mother passed over. She still weeps that "Mother isn't there for me to ask advice" and says that it scares her to think that she is "now the older generation." She doesn't like the responsibility or the implications. Personally, I think she is timeless.

Unlike my father's mother who was so mean that I decreed once that: "God doesn't want her and the Devil is afraid she'll take over", my Mother tries live her faith quietly and personally. However, that doesn't mean that she and God don't have arguments from time to time. She got into a shouting match in Sunday School a few years ago and my Father had to nearly carry her out of the room. Somehow, I was proud of her.

My Mother is one of a kind, just as yours is. I tell her this at odd times, sometimes to make her laugh, but, she knows we adore her. Happy Mother's Day, Boo!

First Day Musings: Safe and Sound

We are safe and sound here in the mountains, other than a little flooding, but our fellow North Carolinians didn't fair as well. Please be thinking of them.

Great stories to tell -- tomorrow --- when I am able to sit up. I ain't as young as I used to be...

First Day Musings -- Immortal Spring

Flowering quince, covered in bees, by the back door...

Spring – An experience in immortality.

       ~ Henry D. Thoreau

What is it about the brilliant sunshine, gentle breeze, and singing birds that makes one feel as though they are coming alive for the first time? This is how it feels this weekend at Lazy Bee Farm. It is as though I have been asleep for years, as Rip Van Winkle, and am waking to discover the life around me.

It is delicious.

Just last week there was snow on the ground and I was in wool. Today, I am barefoot and the windows are fllung open to allow winter out and spring in. While they are not speaking to each other, I feel that each is ready to take up residence in their new home and is making their exchange willingly. And, as for me, I am happy to see the relocation.

I am a spring baby and it is this time of year that I feel it most. Summer is too hot for me and winter, while I can wear wool, wears thin after a few weeks. Spring is my time. It is a time of possibilities and opportunities. We are certain that this will be the year that our tomatoes will not blight and just as certain that this year we will get the shed cleared out once and for all. For me, spring is the time of hope and ambition. I have not yet suffered the disillusionment of dreams unfulfilled. All is pregnant with new energy -- ready to burst forth and flourish.

Today, I am giddy happy. Flower boxes that the Mister and I built this morning and I have painted a soft lavendar are drying on the porch. The round planters with dwarf spruce pines are overflowing with a ring of purple pansies who cheerily dance in the breeze by the front door. Dark, dusky earth has been turned up and is nearly ready for seeds to nestle down for a  little sleep before erupting into lettuce, radishes, greens, and onions. Stones we gathered yesterday tumble on each other as they wait to be placed as the outside of one garden bed, raised slightly, to accommodate more lettuces. Baby bee bottles glisten in the wings to replace the ones on the feeders that we use to help the girls with a head start on honey.

Isn't it beautiful?? What is your spring day like? Are you feeling immortal??

First Day Musings -- Indulge Me

from Bing images

We have been clearing out the Mister's brother's belongings these past two Saturdays. We have learned many wonderful things about him: he kept thank you notes from the elementary schools where he spoke on the court system (he was a lawyer); he was an avid Civil War buff (a major Confederate General is in the direct family line); and, he felt emotions very deeply. We have also learned that he was a collector and saved nearly everything he touched. This means we have made two huge loads of just magazines to the dump.

As another piece of what I have been pondering is the class trip on Friday. We saw the base poverty of the coal miners and yet how the women tried to make home pleasant with flower beds and handmade items such as doileys and quilt as well as hand embroidered towels. And, I listened to a colleague explain to the class how "having a good credit score is great! You need to have all the credit you can get!" I begged to differ and actually got to say one sentence: "The borrower is slave to the lender." Personally, I would rather do without than lose my freedom by owing money.

All this has me thinking about choices and how I will be remembered. There is a lot of clutter in my life: stuff, projects, people, negative thoughts, bad habits, and, sometimes, an overwhelming annoyance with other's negativity. A few weeks ago Brenda at Coffee, Tea, Books and Me had a great post about how we never know when someone is inspired or touched by us. It might be something as simple as keeping flowers on the porch, but someone will see it and be inspired. I want to be that inspiration.

Thus, I have decided the following:

I will not use the word SHOULD any longer.

I will surround myself with positive people.

I will sit down when I tired or sleep when I need it.

I will avoid activities that I have no passion for.

I will be responsible for my choices only.

I will eat dessert.

I will use treasures such as decorative candles, note cards, or my good dishes instead of saving them.

I will return to singing "The Doxology" every morning when I open the blinds.

Will you join me??

First Day Musings -- Could It Be??

Planted in puddles throughout my yard so that I might see them from where ever I am in the house, are daffodils. I had a deal with my parents when I was a child: I could go barefoot as soon as the first flower appeared. For this reason alone, daffodils could be my favorite flower. But, I love them, as well, for the reasons poets best can tell...

William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Song of Solomon 2:11–12

... for behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.


Edna St. Vincent Millay, "Afternoon on a Hill"
will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.

Walt Whitman
A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books.


William Allingham

Pluck not the wayside flower;

It is the traveler's dower.

Matthew 6:29
And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.


Shall we meet in the yard, have a cuppa, and watch the flowers grow? Have a glorious First Day, won't you?

First Day Musings: Reaching Goals

Airman John

Good, bad, or indifferent, I have always been goal oriented. And, good, bad, or indifferent, this trait was passed on to my dear Airman. And, today, dear ones, he has acheived a goal that more than 80% of his classmates didn't. He earned one of these:

The one on the left is his first badge; the others come with time and experience. It is called a "crab" and this is what it stand for:

The Wreath is symbolic of the achievements and laurels gained in minimizing accident potentials, through the ingenuity and devotion to duty of its members. It is in memory of those EOD personnel who gave their lives while performing EOD duties.

The Bomb is copied from the design of the World War II Bomb Disposal Badge and represents the historic and major objective of the EOD attack, the unexploded bomb. The three fins represent the major areas of nuclear, conventional and chemical/biological interest.

Lightning Bolts symbolize the potential destructive power of the bomb and the courage and professionalism of EOD personnel in their endeavors to reduce hazards as well as to render explosive ordnance harmless.

The Shield represents the EOD mission — prevent a detonation and protect the surrounding area and property to the utmost.

While I alternate between crying from pride and great fear that he will now be in the field doing what the Air Force has trained him so carefully to do, he is ready, willing, and excited about his next challenge. He will be in Japan for a year serving our troops in a variety of ways. And, yes, I will be going to visit in six months, Lord willing.

What more can I say? I am very proud of you, Airman, and I am proud of your service and determination in times that were difficult and challenging. And, most of all, I am proud you are my son.

First Day Musings -- Another One Gone!

The night I turned 18, I sat down and created a list of 100 things I wanted to experience in my lifetime. While some will never happen, such as jumping from a perfectly fine airplane, others have been scratched from the list with great joy. Some of the ones that are accomplished include: going to San Fransisco, seeing England, meeting Elvis (truly!), and making a quilt. Others seem impossible to acheive: walking the Appalachian Trail or writing a novel (however, dear Clarice has shown me so well how to dream big!).

Today one of the seemingly impossible ones is poised for striking -- seeing the band "Yes." Now, you have to be a person of a certain age and perhaps experience to understand why this is so special! They are one of those bands that, well, just makes my heart sing. The lilting harmonies, the spine-tingling keyboards (I had such a crush on Rick Wakeman! Save me!), and just the musicality of their work makes it joyful. It is haunting, teasing, playful, and positive. Nothing negative; nothing gloomy. Just -- joyful.

So much of our life is spent doing things that we need-have-got-to-do that we need to stop and give ourselves permission to play a little now and then. And, we need to dream -- big, little, silly, serious -- to make life meaningful. My greatest fear is that I will wake one day and say to myself, "Well, here's another one to struggle through." Sure, I get the blues, just ask the Mister, but it only lasts a day or so and then  I am bubbling again. These days have been a little tougher, but, just knowing that I have a play date with the Mister and Yes makes the ones between seem a lot more effortless.

My point? Give yourself time to dream, play, and celebrate life and the tiniest moments that make up the bigger moments that make the minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years of your life. Each one is precious and should be savored.

Now, get out of here and go play!

First Day Musings -- "We Understand"

I have hope. Where once there was dismay and confusion about how well the youngest generation will fare in this crazy, out-of-control world, I now have confidence that things Might Just Be Okay.

"Gnomio, oh Gnomio!" The not-so-little boys and I went to see "Gnomio and Juliet" today and was it fun! We saw the 3-D version, which leaves me feeling like I am walking in a tunnel afterwards, and ate so much popcorn there is a danger of either exploding or tossing my cookies. Either would be a relief.

For those unfamiliar with the movie, it is Elton John's production of "Romeo and Juliet" except there are gnomes. Red and blue gnomes. All kinds of gnomes! And, as fate would have it, the gnomes hate each other, a la Shakespeare, based on their "colour." But, the story is deeper than that; it is a pretty fair rendering of the play, except, well, there are gnomes. And the lesson of how we are all the same -- we love, dream, hope, and desire in a world that is marked by the lunacy of It's All About Me.

I can't get over how completely brilliant this is conceptually. I mean, we all remember the Velveteen Rabbit, right? Well, can't gnomes come to life as well?

Anyhow, I won't spoil the story for you, as there are some plot differences, however, the kicker for me was when nine-year-old Nat says to his Dad in a most confidential tone: "Dom didn't get it like Aunt Sissie and I did." And, it's true. If a kid that age can get the humor in "Rosengrantz and Gildenstern Movers" and catch the outrageous humor of a pink flamingo as "Friar Lawrence" -- well -- maybe there is hope for this up and coming generation.

And, if there isn't, please don't tell me. I like my world with the purple sky...

First Day Musings -- Religiously Organic??

This past week I heard from an old graduate school buddy whom I adored. It was a trio: Mark, Paul, and Me (sounds like a rock band, doesn't it?). We were in classes together; studied together; pulled all-nighters together; and spent a lot of time at Boone Drug eating lunch -- grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup and sweet tea. Mark and I were each married; Paul wasn't. It was one of those relationships that you didn't want to see end. Yet, after graduation, we each returned to our normal life -- Mark back to his family in Kentucky; me to the farm; Paul to South Carolina to look for work. We wrote and talked for a while, but, as life gets busy, one gets lost and looses those connections.

Flash forward ten years. Out of the clear blue I got a wonderful email: "Is this you?" Seems Mark and Paul found me through the blog. I was thrilled to hear from Paul and to catch up. We tried for three Fridays to catch each other on the phone, but something always kept us from talking, until last week.

I knew his voice immediately. "Hey!" and it was just as though we had just left the drug store from lunch.

"Mark found you; he said you have gone religious and organic," Paul laughed.

Hmmm... Interesting evaluation of who I am. And, frankly, who I have always been.

How many times do we judge people based on our own values rather than taking the time to learn who they are? How many hours do we spend with people and yet never really know what they dream, desire, or need? And, how many people do we pigeon hole without ever knowing the true substance of their heart, soul, and intellect?

Most of my life it has felt as though I have been overlooked. It seems no one values my opinion nor wants to hear what I want. It is always what they want. If I offer advice or an opinion, I am talked over and told Why I Am Wrong. My pitcher is full.

Yes, I am religious. Yes, I am organic. And, yes, I have a dreams, hopes, and desires of my own. Don't you?

First Day Musings -- Seven-Year-Old Wisdom

The past three weeks have been a blur of weather, babies, back to work, delays, cancellations, water issues, and both parents sick (Daddy has Bell's palsy and pneumonia; Mother has bronchitis). I don't know if I am coming or going. I even forget the names of the most simple things like "glass" or "plate." Or "Matty." In short, I am dead dog tired.

We had arranged to have friends to dinner on Friday, but I was just too tired to do it so we shifted to Saturday. It was a simple dinner that could cook unsupervised while I was taking care of Mary and checking babies -- corn pudding, roast w/ potatoes, onions, celery, spelt biscuits and, for dessert, chocolate chip cookies. When our friends arrived, I was still in barn clothes and getting the biscuits in the oven. I rushed around to get the biscuits in; we went to see the babies; and then, came in for dinner.

While we were eating, our seven-year-old Princess, Miss Corrie, said, "Let's have a tea party with our cookies, Matty!" She was so excited and it was such a simple thing...

"Yes," I replied. "Let's do!"

I pulled out a collector Lennox Winnie-the-Pooh tea pot, four collector mugs, and a silver plate on which I placed a paper doily. The children put the cookies very artistically on the plate while I brewed some Candy Cane Lane tea and scooped up honey for our sweetening. We came to the living room, lit some candles, and giggled and gossiped as we nibbled cookies and sipped our tea.

It was perfect.

Later, as I cleaned up our dinner and tea party, I reflected on our evening. It dawned on me that special moments are those we create in the spaces while we are creating big moments. There was nothing difficult in our tea party... a few cookies, some tea, some pretty dishes... dishes, btw, that I have never used, but decided last night that I was tired of 'saving'.

Joy comes from learning to make the ordinary less ordinary. It comes from finding the beautiful in the moment and not waiting for complicated plans to come together. It is a tea party with two darling children, Winnie-the-Pooh, chocolate chip cookies, and Candy Cane Lane tea.

First Day Musings -- The Promise

1 A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.
2 The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him— the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the LORD—
3 and he will delight in the fear of the LORD.

Isaiah 11:1-3

This is the first Sunday of Advent. As a Quaker there is no liturgy, to speak of, but I am enthralled with traditions that give fullness to the Word and Promise. Thus, I love Advent and all that comes with it. Our Advent meal, which will culminate with the lighting of the first purple candle symbolizing HOPE, will be a simple potato soup with toasted and buttered homemade bread. It is a simple meal, but one that we have created with our own hands, from raising the potatoes to making the bread. There is much to be grateful for.

Then, we will watch our fourth movie in the "Thirty Days of Christmas" movie-thon tradition we established when we first married. Each night we select one Christmas movie, starting with "Miracle on 34th Street" and ending, of course, with "It's a Wonderful Life." We have already enjoyed "A Christmas Carole" and I have resolved to read the story in its entirety this season.

Very little decorating has started. With the "natural" Christmas theme for the Airman this year, I don't want to start too early. Next weekend, however, we will begin with the porch and outdoors and move our way in. After my funk from last year, no Dundee cakes were made nor tree decorated, I have resolved to pull myself up by my bootstraps and get 'er done. And, that has made all the difference. I want the Airman's time home to be warm, loving, comforable, and, most of all, peaceful. Knowing he'll be gone next year and with all the stupidness going on in the world, I want to treasure every single moment.

What is one of your favorite Christmas traditions?

First Day Musings --- Look Around

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Brenda has a wonderful post today about Christmas choices. Her posts are always well worth the visit as they nudge us to consider our lives in a more meaningful manner. And, sometimes, she is just, well, to darn close for comfort, at least for me! Today she focuses on how to make the holidays more meaningful and purposeful. And as she often does, she has nudged me right into considering how over-the-top these holidays have become.

One of the things that has always troubled me is how many folks are generous to overseas charities, but don't support those in their own communities. I live in a very rural part of NC; we have more than 12% unemployment and, at one time, we had more than 3000 of our 9000 residents out of work when our two factories closed to go off shore. The impact is still devasting -- homes were lost, families moved off farms that had been original land grants, business closed, and life changed forever. We have to rely on each other in times of trial and need.

Look around you. Really look. Who needs a loving hand in your neighborhood? Our volunteer fire department selects families whom we know are out of work or in need and leaves a bag of groceries (Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner, plus a few goodies for the children), unseen, in the person's car. Our churches donate to school children by sending home "back packs" of food for the weekend if they know a family is in tough times. A local community college has a clothing closet for graduates so that they are interview ready in an appropriate outfit. Another community college off-site campus has a food closet for students. Sandy created lap quilts for her local nursing home for this year's challenge. The fine gals at Mennonite Girls Can Cook support a number of charities; one of my favorites is their livestock program. Who can't love a charity that gives goats and chickens!?

Won't you take a few minutes this week as you consider your blessings and think of how you might bless someone? It doesn't take much; just time and willingness to give of yourself. While writing a check is a fine thing, giving of yourself blesses you and the reciever even more. No matter how little or much you have, you can share -- giving a smile, sharing a kind word, opening a door, helping a mother load her groceries, saying "Good Morning", or thanking a veteran for their service. May you be richly blessed as you bless others!

First Day Musings -- Joyful Noise

Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands.
Serve the LORD with gladness: come before his presence with singing.
Know ye that the LORD he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.
Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.
For the LORD is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.
--- Psalm 100

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Yesterday was spent with a small choir in the studio recording the chorus for a song on the new album. It is a joyous piece called "Focus" and, the Mister hears it with a choir and several "wailing women" in the background. Can you believe that this is the first time the Mister has permitted me in the studio to watch the process?

As I sat, knitting, and listening the singers and the tracks play back, my mind drifted to how in sync this group was even though few of them had ever performed together. They laughed, joked, teased, and broke away into small groups, singing, collaborating, working out harmonies. No one was a star. They were singing out of pure pleasure. It was a joy to watch!

How often do we get caught up in the daily competition of life and forget to be joyful? The Lord loves music, singing, and happiness. Think of David dancing naked before the Lord. I don't see this as a physical nakedness so much as just being himself -- pure and utter joy shared and given to his Creator.

Today, I plan to sing and dance. You?