WINDOWS

I washed windows the other day.
I knew the time would come when I could no longer linger outside.
All too soon it will be time to drink in the outside behind closed windows.
I figured it is better to wash them now, before it is too cold and wet and ugly to scrub the outsides.
I love how the newspaper squeaks across the glass when it has absorbed my simple solution of vinegar and water.

A dark wet day has enough light to bring into
the front of the house if the storm door is clean.

Bugs and dust and dirt spots are gone.
Streaks and blotches disappear.
The storm door takes a bit more work.
There are as many smudges on the inside as the outside.
But OH HOW IT GLISTENS!

The wonderful thing about summer is that I don't care about windows or seeing out between the blotches.
I'm outside!
Who cares if one can see nature clearly?
I'm outside!
I savor the summer months and try to linger on my porch as long as I can until my hands become numb-cold and my legs, covered by a blanket, begin to shiver a bit.

So, I spend more time inside than outside as the days grow shorter . . .  and darker.
All too soon I will need to see the outside through tempered glass.

I even move my little writing desk inside, near the most light I can find.
I move the dining table back a few feet and rearrange a new space that I carve out each winter.

If you look carefully, you can see my little computer by
the window.  From a distance you can't even see my desk.

With windows on two sides I see greens turn gold, blooms fade into stalks of tan and brown.
Red berries pop up from behind my determined red roses, still blooming strongly after the frost.

My own reflection invites me to move to one side to see the hosta thriving under the protection of our beautiful pine tree.
Candles are another interference but such a delight when they automatically turn on in the late afternoon.
Today the drizzle quietly trickles into newly turned dirt left from transplanting day lilies.

I give thanks that I have windows to keep out the cold.
I am thankful that I have such a grand view of my garden and natural beauty of the wetland area below us and acres of farms with no end in sight behind deciduous trees on the far side.

They are losing their leaves so I will soon see the old stone barn and the farmhouse with the wraparound porch.

I pull the curtain back from another window and drink in the changing garden on the side of the house.  Variegated leaves for now will soon fall and reveal bright red twigs-like branches.  When the snow falls, they will add new beauty to a white landscape.

Windows offer a view to another world in another season of life.
Windows invite me to linger longer and wonder about a new phase of my own life.
God has a window into my heart and knows exactly where I am in my walk.
Do I dare take a look inside?
The view is so murky from this side.
I need to take more time to clean the window into my heart.  There are too many blotches and streaks.

A lyric from scripture set to song comes to mind.
"Create in me a clean heart, oh God, and renew a right spirit within me ..."
Perhaps the words could change a bit to: "Clean the window to my heart, oh God, so I can see the rightness of the Spirit you planted in me."

I wander and I wonder as I sit at my window, rain beginning to drench the warm earth . . . and leaving spots on my newly polished glass.

Like the heart, this convex glass
reveals a distorted view and reflected
light from a window that seems distant.

I guess nothing is perfect . . .
 imperfect view . . .
imperfect heart for God . . .
 always an ugly blotch here and there . . .
always a need to clean and polish and take away the streaks that smudge my life.

I am thankful that I have the desire to see, or begin to see, what God presents to me, whether it is on the other side of these pieces of thermal glass or whether it is deep inside my heart.
God's view is perfect but mine is distorted and the light of Christ within me seems distant, like the reflection from this convex mirror.
Words come to mind: murky, smudged, flawed.
Yet, God sees perfection.
Since I am beautifully and wonderfully made in God's image, I should see myself as perfectly clean without splotches.
I know I don't need water and vinegar solution or scrubbing with newspaper.
All I need to do is look out my beautifully clean windows and look at God's creativity. . . and remember how God sees me.

Windows . . .

a gift to help me through the 'inside' months.

I will keep my table and chairs outside until
the first hint of snow.  Then I will know I
cannot linger on my favorite porch for awhile.

I have this little wooden window that I use all year.  I place a pretty card behind it
that reflects the current season and voila . . . I have a window to another world.

TIME

Time
Where does it go?
I think I have written a day or two ago and it's more than a week.
Time . . . it moves way too fast.
I cannot catch it.
I cannot put it in a jar and place a lid on it for future use.

Time is illusive.
I want to grab it and hold onto it and dole it out in tiny increments but the clock keeps ticking . . . forward.
I can look back and grab a memory of the past.
I can grab a moment and hold it tight, trying not to let it go.
But memories and moments become the past in less time than it takes to say the words.
Time moves forward whether I am ready to move with it or not.
I can let it go . . . let the milliseconds tick by . . . watch the world spin through space . . . which takes time.
I can linger quietly and watch time fly.
Sometimes that is soothing to the soul.
Sometimes it is frightening.
Time marches on . . .
As I take one well chosen step at a time.

I can miss-step, hold a step, skip a step, step up to the plate, step forward, step back . . . but . . . no matter how I step . . . time still marches on.

The best I can do is take time . . .
savor time . . .
stretch time . . .
linger in time . . .
according to my own little time-clock in my heart.
It may put me way behind the times . . .
or make me lag in time . . .
or run me out of time . . .
but then, it's my time to take . . .  to choose.
It's my time to use or abuse . . . or loose.

So what?
Time is what we make of it.
If I lose time,
make time,
use up time
or refuse to step in time . . .
is it my time to do with as I choose?
Sometimes.
It depends if someone else hires me to use time the way they choose.
I must ask myself if I have 'redeemed' the time properly.

More often than not,
I have plenty of time to share with others,
give to others,
give to myself and use time wisely.
But, that means I must make myself aware of time
 and bide my time
 and use my time with good intention.
That means that some time is not my own.
Whose time is it anyway?
Who made time?

God, our Creator, made time for us  . . .
to enjoy,
 use,
fill,
empty out,
give,
receive,
share,
covet . . . as we choose.
It's our choice.
Each day I make the choice.
How much time do I take to linger a littler longer in my quiet space talking . . .
and sometimes listening . . . to God?
Is it a good time or a waste of time or a fulfilling time?
Almost always it is a very pleasant time,
a fulfilling time,
an enriching, in-reach time.

As it says in Ecclesiastes:
 (2:1-8)There is a time to give birth and a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.
A time to kill and a time to heal;
 A time to tear down and a time to build up.
A time to weep and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn and a time to dance.
A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;
 A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.
A time to search and a time to give up as lost;
 A time to keep and a time to throw away.
A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;
A time to be silent and a time to speak.
A time to love and a time to hate;
A time for war and a time for peace.

(10) I have seen the task which God has given the generations with which to occupy themselves.
 He [God] has made everything appropriate in its time.
 He has also set eternity in their heart, yet so that mankind will not find out the work which God has done from the beginning even to the end.
I know there is nothing better for them than to rejoice and to do good in one's lifetime; moreover, that all who eat and drink see good in all their labor.
It is the gift of God.
(20)All go to the same place.
 All came from the dust and all return to the dust.

One cannot find a better explanation for time.
Now to use it well.

ONE HUNDRED

100 seems like a small number in relation to our national debt of $16,000,000,000,000.
I cannot even imagine a 'Trillion' of anything.
In fact, creating a pile of 100 of anything became daunting to me.

I counted 100 Nasturtiums but realized
that this was not the best way to see 100.

That was the request from my cousin.
 Her mom, my aunt, turned 100 years old on Sept. 15.
That's a HUGE milestone for humans.
So, why not ask everyone to send a picture of 100 of anything.
At the very least, we could send a couple of cards so that she could obtain 100 cards.
That was the easiest task of all since my aunt knows and keeps in touch with well over 100 people in her life.
I imagine she received far more than 100 cards.
Pictures of 100 of anything were also compiled.
There were cheerios, flower petals, stones, marshmallows lined up to look like 100.
Dozens were digitally compiled into a slide show.

I could not wrap my brain around compiling anything except 100 Thank You notes, since my aunt has always been a huge influence in my life.
She took my sister and I under her wing at a very young age and encouraged us to become the best Girl Scouts we could be.

My old badge sash

Girl Scouts also celebrated their 100th birthday this year.
My aunt was a Girl Scout leader for years as she raised her own daughter.  She even earned her Eagle Scout Badge which, when I became old enough to earn it, no longer existed.

One would think giving 100 thanks would be easy.  I am already giving three 'thanksgivings' a day on my other blog: dailygracesfromgod.blogspot.com
After the first couple of pages, I had to think.
My memory became muddled.
As they say, long term memory is easy.
It gets harder to remember the more recent events in our lives.
For sure, I managed to write down 100 thank you notes and place them in a pretty cover.
Off they went to my aunt.
 Of course I added pictures.  That was the most fun.

There she is, responding to her
sister's question in the middle
of her one of her 10 oratories of
 her life story.
  

We also managed to visit my aunt on her big day.
Here she is, standing for ten minutes at a time, telling the story of her life.
This was totally amazing because she did not use her glasses, does not wear hearing aids, uses no cane or walker, and stood by herself without microphone as the rest of us sat in lawn chairs listening over the din of loud music down the block.
She just talked louder and became more animated.
In comparison, her children and nieces and nephews seemed to have more ailments than my aunt!
She was as perky as ever!

10 Balloons were released after my aunt 'released'
stories of every 10 years of her life.

I think she will live another 10 years at least.

My aunt with her GREAT Grand son!
Greg was the 'master of ceremonies'.

She is astute, alert, filled with incredible information, and ever present in dozens of peoples' lives . . . daily.
Reason: the computer.
My aunt has always been on the leading edge of technology.
She has never feared a new invention.
She had an Apple computer before many of us knew what it was.
She now has the latest Apple and a touch-screen PC.
Reason: Although she much prefers Apple, more software is created for the PC.

Aunt Helen took a moment out from the party
to show us her latest work.  AMAZING!

Can you see the two computers?
Latest in computers but notice in the bottom
right corner - an old TV which she rarely watches.

She needs the latest software to continue her genealogy work, which she has done for well over fifty years.




100 years brings more than 100 changes.
My aunt has floated through endless changes and challenges.
Her attitude is positive to a fault and has carried her well into the 21st century.
 To be 100 is a gift.
 My aunt, at 100, is the greatest gift I could ever have.
 I share her with 100s.
Yet, she seems as if she were attentive only to me.

Oh to be 100.
Oh to be attentive and caring and savvy with the latest technology in order to maintain that pastoral care she gives to so many.
Who knows what the next 100 will bring but she is on the 'edge' of a whole new world where the 'average' may be 100.

I linger with thoughts of her and wonder if I will be able to remain attentive to others and savvy with the latest technology so that I can reach beyond my comfort zone.
Hmmmmm, I guess writing this blog is a beginning.
I pray I can be half as giving and caring and attentive as my aunt if, by God's grace, I even reach 100.

PREFERENCES

Each of us has different preferences that dictate our lives.
 Some of us prefer summer over winter.
In the summer, some prefer to linger in gardens on a hot day and others choose to enjoy air conditioning.

Sometimes, our preferences mean making tough choices.


If we choose to linger in a garden we might have to wander in some else's yard or walk down to a local park.

We may choose to be uncomfortable and sweat a bit in order to admire nearly transparent roses.

We may have to compromise with the natural elements like the hot sun and don a hat and sunglasses and slather sunscreen on our exposed skin.

 Sometimes we choose where to live according to our preferences.

For instance, I love summer all year long but my husband now barely tolerates summer and relishes long, cold winter days.
His 'outside' time is my 'inside' time.
 He breathes deep and seems to come alive on crispy-cold days.

 I burrow into a warm corner of the house and prefer to park myself there until Spring.
Because I love my hubby and he loves me, we have compromised over the years.
 We met in Seattle, where it is not too cold in the winter and is nicely cool most of each Summer.
  We moved to Northern Virginia, quite warm in the summer with no cool breeze, and crispy-cold only a few months a year.
Both places offered enough for us to compromise our preferences quite well.







Then we moved to Florida.
I began to love the heat and my hubby tolerated it quite well for several years.
The very hot summers brought with it soft sea breezes.
Winter was cool enough for him and just right for me.
 I most certainly benefited the most from living there.

After several years it was his turn to name his preference.
He chose a Pennsylvania mountain range that not only offers cool breezes in the summer but sweeps cold gusts that rattle our home almost constantly for eight months a year.
Yes, this summer is hot . . .  too hot for hubby.
This year is unusual.
It has been like Florida with never ending humidity.

Yet, a cool summer breeze gently frolics through our little screened porch where I park myself for hours each day when I am not in the garden.
My precious hubby parks himself in the coolest part of the basement when he can and, if given the option, would linger there until the first sign of frost.

As the days become shorter and nights grow colder I linger outside a a little less each day.
Hubby, in anticipation of the months ahead, seems to awaken from his sleepy daze in dark corners and begins to jog more frequently.

We will soon exchange a single sheet of bed covering for a down comforter with a coverlet on top of that.
As days grow dark and north winds howl, I get double the covers as he tosses them my way.
Because we create options we manage well.

Neither of us declares a 'mandate' by telling the other to accept that which is intolerable.
We adjust, knowing that we live in an imperfect world.
We work with each other instead of against each other.

I have yet to hear, "You cannot have more blankets on a cold winter day."
I have yet to tell my precious partner in life, "You must be covered in as many blankets as I use."
In the same way, I cannot demand that hubby keep the heat up high on a blistering cold day.

This is uncomfortable for him as well as poor economics.
 In fact, we both choose to keep the house at 68 in the winter.
We have high ceilings and his office is in an open loft at the top of the stairs.  What little heat we enjoy (68 does not seem that warm) goes right up to him.  It's really about 72 for him, which he thinks is just right.

 My best option is to wear wool socks and a thick wool sweater with heavy sweatpants.
 I also opt to go to a sweetly decorated, cozy corner of the basement where I can turn the heat up without much extra cost.
 We simply switch places between summer and winter.
 It works.

Preferences.
Who is winning now?
Because I choose to remain with my forever partner in marriage, I am willing to compromise in the winter as he does in the summer.
Because I mention ideas and do not mandate alternatives, we came up with a nifty plan to help each other through the toughest months.

There are many other preferences we lay aside because we have invested in each other.
We have a "vested interest" in compromise and, over the years, have gained a great return on our investment in each other.
Mandates are out of the question.
Patronizing is not acceptable.
Demanding that one come over to the other side is inappropriate.
Compromise is the only way we continue to thrive as a devoted couple.

I wonder if our nation is dealing as well with its commitment to fellow citizens.
As citizens, we are all 'bonded together' under the rules of the same constitution.
The United States of America, the government OF the people, BY the people, and FOR the people, is just that.
We are called upon to govern ourselves.
We state our preferences by voting.

We often have to compromise if the 'vote' for our preference is outnumbered by another's vote for a different preference.
Together, we are called upon to maintain the unity of one nation as a governing body.
Mandates are out of the question.
Patronizing is not acceptable.
Demanding that those who disagree come totally over to the other side is inappropriate.
We must all work together to compromise, to work with each other's preferences as best we can.

Our founding Fathers left ample room for individual preferences as we live together as "ONE nation, under GOD, INDIVISABLE, with liberty and justice for ALL."
We have fought many wars and too many have died to maintain our freedom.
We must work together, every day, to maintain our freedom.

 We can do this with compromises in compliance with our Constitution.
Our job, as a nation, is to read and digest the actual words of our Constitution.
Our nation has twisted the words and intent over the years.  Transcript of the Constitution of the United States - Official Text
Our preferences do not mean . . . 'all or nothing'. . . 'my way or no way.'
It is OUR way.
The bond of Marriage would not last a minute if preferences were ignored, mandates were dictated, and compromise was out of the question.

As a nation we are called to bond with each other as we live side by side, knowing that FREEDOM means working at compromise as we seek our own preferences,

FASHION STATEMENT

Along with a slew of other activities this week, I decided to create a birthday THANK YOU card for my 100 year old aunt. 

Her birthday is September 15 so I needed to at least begin this great work.  Nine pages and one hundred 'thank you' moments enabled me to linger a little longer with very old memories.

My earliest recollection was when my sister and I visited my "Auntie Helen" for a whole week when I was about ten years old.  

She lived in a small farm town . . . so small that our visit was front page news in the town paper.

If we were that famous I most certainly wanted to look my best whenever we walked about town.  

 The first thing that comes to mind is SPOOLIES! 

When my aunt washed my hair she put these soft pink things in my hair.

These are still sold today!

Then she wanted me to join her as we visited a neighbor . . . clear across the street and down a block . . .  with my hair in Spoolies!

You can now purchase Spoolies in
three colors!

Someone might see me!

At this young age I was well aware that this was not the best 'fashion statement.'

I insisted I wear a head scarf but three pink spoolies still stuck out in front.

Absolutely no one made a comment, positive or negative.

This was the beginning of many memorable adventures with my aunt.  

She sewed everything including a few items for my sister and me.

I loved fashion but it's all relative at the age of ten.

I was totally in love with Katy Keen Fashion but I could never afford the very thick  books that were published.   My allowance of $.10 per week was little help for this pricy item at $1.25.  My aunt bought me one which I cherished for years. 

This is still sold today!

Perhaps the Katy Keen purchase sparked my auntie Helen's imagination.
The next year she created a 'fashion doll' with the most glamorous wardrobe I'd ever seen.
She used her old sewing scraps.  Can you see the gold on white organza dress in the box below?  She pasted fabric on paper so the essence of see-through fabric was a bit muted.
 I loved each 'fashion'.

I was dishwater blond so this 'hair' was perfect.
The coat with real fur was the most current
Fashion Statement of the day!

Here she is unclothed. See how
the old tape held the wire on the back so the
clothes could stay on.  Aren't they gorgeous?!

Black velvet, lace, wool, silk.
Glorious to the touch.

The doll and clothes came in this box.
20 Cards for $.60!
We are talking for than 50 years old!

I fell in love with fabric. 

 So began my love for sewing.  

I never came near having a fashion statement of my own but I did make a 'fabric statement' in each place I lived. 

 I learned how to sew on a treadle machine my mom bought for me because she thought it was slower and safer.  

I loved it but needed something more portable to take away to college with me.  

So I bought a $12 Singer machine from a friend that I still have.  

I loved to created wardrobes from designer patterns and used unique fabrics.  I continue to make pillows, curtains, slip covers and anything 'fabric' that we enjoy in each home we have inhabited.  

I may not have the 'zing and bling' to BE a fashion statement but our home shows my love of fabric. 

Mine still works and is best on very
heavy fabrics.  LOVE IT!
I saw one the other day for $130

 I now have a modern sewing machine with a few bells and whistles but I still love my little Singer. 

 Like my precious aunt, I love to sew and will continue to do so as long as I am able to make my own 'fashion statement'.  

I may not last 100 years but I can keep sewing fabric for a few more years.

And I refuse to wear spoolies out in public.

For that matter I don't even own any spoolies!

FRESH PRODUCE

It's that time of year.
 Every morning I go out to my little garden by the side of the garage.
Tiny tomatoes are ripe and ready to pick.
 Summer squash is growing profusely.
Chives, thyme, basil, curry, cilantro, sweet peppers and all sorts of lavender grow in my little herb garden.
Oh JOY!

I cut or pick a little something each day.
So fun.  If I let the green sweet peppers
remain for awhile, they will turn red.
Fresh Produce for my Italian husband.

I am in love with fresh produce.  What we don't grow we purchase from our local farm.
 Fresh picked peaches, plums and nectarines, celery, cucumbers, beans, lettuce and so much more is there for the taking.
 Any price is worth fresh, healthy produce this time of year.

It has been years since we were able to purchase so much from farmers.
 We've lived in large cities most of our life.
We have always had access to some produce that came from local farmers but I never saw so much as we have here.

I took this shot a week ago.  The corn looks
ready to me. Picking may begin in another
week or two.  It's still pretty rainy.

Corn is coming in soon.
 It's still growing and truly is as high as an elephant's eye ( I love that song from Oklahoma).
Potatoes too.
 Although we did learn to purchase potatoes in small amounts.
Some farmers seem to douse their fields in so much manure that it really does affect the taste of the produce.
 One farmer's potatoes were so bitter that we gave the huge bag away after tasting one.

Oh yes, that wonderful smell seems to grab the early morning dew and hang on until the sun burns it off at about 11 each morning.
I'm getting use to the stinky mornings because I so love to sit on my porch and watch the birds eat their breakfast while I eat mine.


  Mornings are the best time of summer.
  It's still a bit cool.
  Fresh produce 'speaks' to me and seems to say, "pick me, pick me."
  Garden work comes before my time on the porch.
   I work before I linger awhile.

I have the same breakfast every morning.

I then linger with my special breakfast tray and read or simply sit and ponder God's blessings.  Something always speaks to me so I write it in my journal.
God gives me 'fresh produce' every day.

Another favorite form of 'fresh produce' is my summer clothing.  Fresh Produce [ http://freshproduceclothes.com/clothes/just-arrived ] is a small company that makes all of it's clothing out of pure cotton.
 No spandex.
Just Cotton.
 It breathes!
They make the cutest T-shirts, skirts, shorts and pants and throw-on dresses.

They were the only clothes I could wear when we lived in the Florida tropics ... way south.

I just grab and go.  Easy to wear, easy to wash.

These clothes are all I wear up here, especially in the garden.
 I wear my 'Fresh Produce' while collecting the same.
I have found nothing else as  fabulously cute and cool.

So, one might say that I wear it, pick it, and meditate on it daily.
Fresh Produce.

This is almost my entire wardrobe
for summer so it's not too hard
to pick and choose.

One can't beat it.

This is my best pick of the day.

Today's pick!
It seems endless.

What kind of fresh produce do you have?

GOLD MEDAL

Olympics, summer or winter, are my time to linger a little longer in front of the television.

Our schedules do not allow us to watch during the day, unless I choose to wake up at 5:30am to watch horses jump hurdles.
 I did make that choice one morning and it was great.  But the day seemed a little long.

That said, at night, when the highlights of the best athletes are shown, I am all eyes.
 I am glued.
 I am working at winning the  Gold Medal for the Couch Potato category.

My sister took this shot of a sand
sculpter at the beach.  This is
truly worth Olympic Gold.
(Click on Cynthia's Botanicals on
the sidebar for more.)

 I am focused on these athletes who have given their lives for this moment.

A swimmer looks like a winner and then loses by 1/100 of a second!
I cannot imagine spending my entire life in water to loose by such a tiny margin.

For that matter, what about the world class gymnast who fumbles in floor exercises just a tad bit more than her team mates and is not qualified to join her team for the next exercise because each country can only have so many winners?
That means another country can have fewer points and move to the next exercise?

 This is not the Olympics I have ever known.
 I'm off the couch.
 I'm standing in the middle of the living room ranting at such a stupid rule ... so everyone can have a fair chance?

This could be me, ready
to challenge the judges.

What about the person who earns the highest points!
If one country wins all the top spaces, so be it.
I just lost any hope for the Couch Potato Medal!
I'm still off the couch.
I scream at the judges.
I think I also lost the 'Good Sportsmanship' medal too.
I cannot even think of how these young athletes feel with rules that have never before been part of the Olympics.
I may have this all wrong but my adrenaline soared.
The athletes have to dry their tears and move on.
That's far more than I could do at this point.

Now I am a wreck over the men's swimming competition because some races are way too close for comfort.
Some are breaking their own records.
These 'kids' are beyond amazing: Discipline, Drive, Fortitude, Grace, Patience, Perseverance ... and so much more.

A ribbon with a piece of metal.
Reward of a lifetime.

These athletes have so much to teach all of us.
The highest expectations have been drilled into them:
 Do your best.
Take what is given with grace.
Endure under pressure.
Keep moving forward.

And KEEP SMILING when your heart is breaking ... and reporters ask ..."How do you feel?"
I wish some athlete would ask the reporter, "How do you feel when your whole world falls apart after giving up life for ten years or more?"
But these young women and men simply smile and give the best answer they can.
They have ALL won the Gold Medal for grace under pressure in a kazillion different categories.
They are the BEST!
Whether they win or loose, they have much to teach the rest of us ... spoiled, less disciplined, unwilling to persevere for more than thirty seconds.

I believe those who simply qualify for the Olympics deserve a Gold Medal for the exemplary lives they lead ... whether they win or lose.

 

From the 2000 Olympics

   I have much to learn from them.
   I might as well keep working on my 'Couch Potato'
        status.
     I may not win the medal but the 'lingering' might
         teach me something.