FIRST WE HAVE BREAKFAST

Life has been crazy lately - all good.
We have been on a wonderful adventure.

But, sometimes, I feel like I am spinning.
That's why I begin each day with the words, "First we have breakfast."

I have a tendency to wake up swirling and want to spin into overdrive before I take time to stretch, yawn, feast on God's presence and put a little something in my tummy.

So, first we have breakfast.
But it is not the kind of breakfast someone might imagine.

Breaking a fast for many means grabbing a cup of coffee with toast and running out the door.
I tend to linger a little longer with my little routine.

Before I eat anything I need to do my little workout.
If I don't, I'll never exercise.

I do not like exercise but it really does keep my muscles and joints a bit more limber after being horizontal for so many hours.
I do get plenty of sleep.

And then, I sip my breakfast tea slowly as I enjoy daily scripture readings.
As I munch on God's word, I slowly chew my almonds and dip my spoon into greek yogurt with wheatgerm sprinkled on top.
I do double duty as I feed my soul while feeding my body.
YUM!

My greatest challenge is to stay off of the computer until my "breakfast" time is over.

The minute I step out of bed I must begin saying to myself, "First we have breakfast."
Otherwise I spin the wrong way for the rest of the day.
And email is no help.
I can spend up to two hours reading, answering and creating messages.
I think of new ideas that need documentation.
I don't take time to breathe.

When I take time to linger longer and breathe and drink in the new day with my little routine, I seem to spin a bit less or at least a bit slower.

When I take time to dig in my garden or pick fresh veges or nip old buds before the dew dries on the leaves I see life with a new perspective.  It's almost like I am breaking my fast with blooms that slowly open with the sun.

And so, I continue to murmur to myself when I arise before the sun has fully risen . . .
            "First we have breakfast."

GLORIOUS COOL!

This is TOTALLY AMAZING!
ITS AUGUST!

It is suppose to be HOT!

I am sitting on my little porch, wearing a light jacket, as the gusts of wind sweep my papers off the table every few minutes.

I LOVE IT!

This has been the weirdest summer we have had in the four years we have been here.
All good.


We've had loads of rain so I have yet to water the garden.
It was HOT -HOT-HOT for two to three weeks to remind me why we moved here from the tropics of Florida.
Then, almost suddenly, cool temperatures brought us back to more 'normal' days.

The rains come late in the day or early before we wake.
Each day I pluck my Day-lilies or trim my herbs or pick Japanese beetles from my rose blooms.

I flick them into a jar of soapy water.

I have spent most of the summer doing odd things.
I am trying to finish all my little projects and clean out cupboards because . . .
. . . because . . . I begin a new job next week.

After four years of helping a variety of churches in numerous ways, we will now go to the same church each week.
 I'll be able to 'hang my hat' so to speak, and not cart all my 'stuff' to a new place every few weeks.

I finished a very long study in Proverbs 31:10-31.
It took over a year to write the blog notes.
Go to Women of Worth Ministries  and look for the blog notes beginning with June 10, 2012.
Take your time reading them.
I hope it won't take you a year to digest but linger a little while with each entry.
Explore, ask, wonder . . . Does any phrase or story apply to you?
I have been using this as a study tool with Women of Worth Ministries as I work with women of all denominations in our community to affirm each of us that we truly are Women of Worth!

I also cleaned out closets.

We have moved so many times that one would think we have little left.
We purge each time we move.
Yet, papers and books and clothing seem to accumulate before our eyes.
We make a trip to our local 'mission' store that takes our lovely prizes and sells them or gives them away to the needy.

It is run by volunteers and all money they earn is used to help the needy.
So, I feel good when I give away items that are nearly new that I never needed in the first place.
I am getting better at this.
The less I purchase, the less I have.
The less I have, the less 'stuff' I accumulate.
Nice.

It's amazing what cool weather will prompt.
I seem to have energy to create some luscious meals of home grown, or next-door-farmer-grown, produce.

I don't think we have eaten so much fruit or such a variety of vegetables as we have this summer.

Even the early corn has been delicious.
Speaking of corn, field upon filed is brimming with the stuff . . . eight feet high and growing!

I have never seen so much corn.
No matter how many pigs and cows are around here and no matter how many products we consume that consist of corn, there is no way all that corn can be used for consumption unless much of it will go for ethanol.
 Silly me.
I thought the 'powers that be' realized how futile growing corn for ethanol is compared to the natural energy we already have.  We could be sending our extra corn to third world countries or refugee camps so that people do not starve.
OOPS!
I am getting off track.
I am suppose to be chatting about Glorious Cool!

And so I rejoice in God's great gift of summer weather and linger as long as I can on my back porch or in our yard with butterflies and beauty and the cool breeze.

All too soon it will be time to start my new job . . . which will keep me from lingering outside as long as I would like.
But, that's OK.
It's just nice to enjoy Glorious Cool!

SUMMER HOT!!!!

Why do I complain?
Of course it is HOT!
It's SUMMER!
IT'S JULY!

You've seen this one before.  It is my favorite.
It reminds me of fireworks as we celebrate
Independence Day

Oh how my garden grows.
And this is the shady side of the house.

We are blessed with air conditioning but do I remain inside?
Of course not.
I am determined to drink in every moment of summer that I can.

Who cares if sweat is pouring down my second t-shirt of the day.
Who cares if I have sipped so many glasses of water, smoothies, ice tea etc. that I am getting up every hour on the half hour.

Who cares if the temperature is 95 and there is not even a whisper of wind.

It's SUMMER!

Paprika Yarrow.  So love it.
 Clip the faded flowers and more bloom.

I dare not complain.
Yes, I lived more than half my life in cold weather.
Perhaps that was the problem.

Someone sent me this with some other snow scenes.
Mr. Minnesota Frost himself.  Love it.

Minnesota and six foot snow drifts meant nothing.
      I was outside playing in the snow.
Colorado mountain living was fabulous as I skied every day off.
Seattle was warmer in winter but not much different in the summer.
I remember having a fire in the fireplace and wearing layers on July 4!

So, moving to Virginia gave us the best of both worlds.
Summers were hot but not that hot.
Winter - the roughest part - lasted just a few weeks.
But then we moved to glory.
We moved to FLORIDA!

I found this as I was sorting through old pictures.
This was our glorious view.  Miss it.

I told my hubby I was never going to move.
Famous last words.
So what if summers were so hot that air conditioning was a must and beach walks were before dawn or after dark.
At least we got a breeze.

Winter was always a surprise.
We thought we could open everything up but the constant fires in the Everglades, miles away, choked us with smoke.
We were like caged animals: either sitting inside to escape smoke or caged on our patio to keep everything wild out of our way.

What can I say.  The Roses and everything else are
enjoying this hot, humid weather.

I still loved it.
After twelve fabulous years in the tropics hubby declared he'd had enough.
He was ready for REAL weather.

And so we trekked north.
Not as far north as Minnesota but I don't think it makes much difference.

Once the temps hit below thirty, I am tucked into layers and huddled in the corner of our little sunroom that absorbs all the heat from the sun.

Of course, the sun is only shining into that side of the house for about three hours a day.

These are nearly worn out.  I love em.  I'm such a flip-flop
girl that you might even see me wearing them in winter.
Only indoors, of course.

So, that is why I make the most of summer.
I can run freely in t-shirts and flip-flops.
I can sip smoothies and suck tepid water from my favorite cup and be happy as a  . . .

I get to look out on my garden as I do my work on the tiny screened porch, up high, arching over the back yard gardens.
This summer is exceptionally glorious.
The BLOOMS in everyone's yards are amazing.

It's just-right humid and just-right hot and the rain stopped for nearly a week now.
It's getting dry.

Our flag nearly got ripped off the wall
during one storm.  We join our neighbors
every morning in putting out the flag.

But not to worry.
Another storm is expected on Saturday.
I'll haul in all the silly stuff I have outside.
I'll take down the flag.
I'll tuck St. Francis under the big fur tree.
And then.
Once again.
I will be murmuring, IT'S HOT!
Oh Summer!
Love it!

RANDOM SHOTS

I tried to capture the light coming through this translucent dome.
I got dizzy enjoying the moment.

Sometimes I just don't have words to share.

A picture does tell the story so much better.

Some days I simply get in the car and drive to the next town - just minutes away.

Or we take a day trip and make new discoveries.

All I have is a tiny pocket digital camera.

I have been encouraged to get one of those really nice digital cameras with the removable lens.

Then I wonder if I really am serious about taking good shots.

I'd rather take random shots and hope they are not too fuzzy.

I'd rather linger at a place or sight I love and drink it into my heart than work a camera.

And so I simply click and hope all turns out well.

Thus, I give you a very few of my favorite RANDOM SHOTS .

I watched the ducks socialize at a local spring.

This old structure sits in the middle of a lovely park.

This is one of the original buildings of a
boarding school not too far from us in Lititz.
The church is on the second floor.

These historic homes are across the street from the
girls' day and boarding school.
New architecture nearby is made to look old so the
entire town is a lingering delight.

I had a meeting at this old church in a tiny town
that is no more than two blocks long and wide.
It is not hard to find stained glass windows like
this in the tiny churches that dot the state.

I thought I had captured the giraffe that holds the dial.
I found this at a garage sale for $1 and laid it in my
broken birdbath that no longer is able to hold water.

I poke my head into all sorts of places.
 I love this doorway to a tiny backyard space
which lies between the Linden Hall dorms.

I have never seen a Coptic church until we visited Annville, a tiny
town not too far from us.  The artwork on the outside
is magnificent.  What a treat for those passing by.

I was on my way to get my hair cut and just had to stop.
The Amish farmer hung his tobacco to dry.
The barn doors were swinging open and shut with the wind.
I clicked away until the wind slammed the doors shut.

We finally visited our PA state capital.  The inside was more
majestic than the outside.  Yet, it was a delight to drink in
the magnificent architecture of a bygone era.  Gracious
steps on either side lend themselves to much pomp and
pageantry that may have appeared a century ago.

The Ephreta 'cloister' house was created for strong monastics -
men and women.  Each had a 'cell' and the central
meeting area was in the attached building.

This old mill house is the only building left in the midst
of new apartments and a shopping center.
Sitting on a small pond, it drew me into a quiet place.

I love homes with gambrel roofs.  This was actually about
one block from the sea in Cape May, which I adore.
We don't get there often enough.

This fascinates me.  Doesn't it look like two separate homes
linked together by a separate building?  I have dreamed of
a house like this so that a mom or dad could come live
with the family.  We just have dad now and he is very
content in his own digs in another state.

So I say farewell to another time of lingering with 'random shots.'
Perhaps I'll do this again.
It brought back wonderful memories.
Isn't that what it's all about anyway?
Random Shots make memories.

TWENTY-FIVE!

We lingered at a lovely country inn on a sunny day.

25       Twenty-five is not that large a number until one breaks it down.
Twenty-five of what?
Years?
25 + 25 + 25 + 25 - 2 = 98   The age of my father

Yesterday I received a photo of myself when I was 25 + 6.
Did I ever look young!
  Or, did I age that much?

This is a scanned photo that
a friend found and sent to
me.  I was at a 'singles' retreat.

Hubby and I just celebrated 25 years of marriage this week.
It seems like a long time if we remember all the details of living together this many years.
Yet, it only seems like yesterday as we reminisce over our wedding day.
We lingered longer in our singleness than most people.

I will always love the D.C. area.  We visit annually.

There were lots of reasons we could reflect upon but, for the most part, we simply did not meet each other until all of our friends were married and had children.

Year ONE we were suppose to just get to know each other.
 That was the year that my hubby began to look for a job clear across the country.

Year TWO, just after we celebrated our 1st wedding anniversary, we bought a tiny house just outside of Washington D.C.  We felt packed in like sardines and suffered from sticker shock when we moved from Washington State to the East Coast.  We loved our tiny yard and perfectly gorgeous garden.

Year THREE to NINE we enjoyed beautiful weather, a mild winter, began new jobs and learned 'the ropes' of commuting around a big city.   I even managed to return to school for another degree.  We thought we would stay there forever but we were needed elsewhere.

We moved to the southern end of Florida.
Needless to say, I quickly got use to the heat and loved the freedom of flip-flops while hubby learned to

I miss the water and salty waves and soft beach sand.

attack palm trees and shrubs that would have enveloped us in a heartbeat had he not been aggressive with the pruners and tree saw.

Hubby did his work via the computer and I found work with the church and hospital quite fulfilling.
 I even took a year off to return to school and work on another degree.
 True love is leaving hubby behind for nine months to take care of mom.
True love is for hubby to come see me by taking a two-hour flight north as often as he could.
 If there is anything that can test a marriage, it was this experience.
Yet, we found that we bonded more deeply than ever.
We both grew in appreciation for each other and were very glad when I returned home.

Hubby LOVES this kind of weather.  Good for him.

My work was more than fulfilling yet, when hubby retired, it was my turn to be flexible.  He was more than tired of the heat and longed to stretch his wings in a cooler climate with wide open spaces.

Ahhhh marriage.
We ebb and flow.
 We move to and fro.
 We land in another lovely place with farms and slow moving life.
We learn to crawl at a snail's pace.
Time seems to freeze.
 Yet, we've been here four years.
I think this will be our final home but who knows.

TWENTY-FIVE is a long time if one looks at time in one lump sum.
Yet, breaking the years into pieces makes our life look like a marvelous adventure.
We most likely have been more blessed than most.
We were unable to have children but we have embraced children wherever we lived.
Our 'children' write us at Christmas and send us graduation announcements and let us know when they are ready to go out and meet the world head-on.

An older couple enjoying a lovely jaunt.

Our life has always been an adventure.
In fact, we had an adventure the other day when we celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary.
We drove on an old road to a fun restaurant we wanted to try for the first time.
Our car moved too fast to take pictures but we were surprised by one amish jaunting cart after another.
Couples, old and young, with children and grand children all in their colorful summer garb, enjoyed the warm, sunny day as they drove 'coverless' carts made of the finest wood.
Horses moved gracefully up and down hills as cap strings flailed with the breeze.
Our huge engine-driven piece of metal squeaked

We wave at the kids.  They smile.

by just in time for massive trucks to whizz past all of us.
Dangerous is not the word for it.
Yet, horse and buggy, passenger car and semi-trucks all share the same roads.
Twenty-five years of travel and discovery and we seem to have gone backward in time.
We cherish this opportunity to watch the folk who truly live the simple life.
And so, we begin TWENTY-FIVE more years or however many we will remain on this earth.

I am sure we will find time to rock and lounge but not yet.

We may not make it that far but I am willing to begin counting all over again.
Maybe we will learn to linger longer and slow down a bit more.
Yet, we have so many adventures in front of us.
We are ready.
Just the two of us - and whomever chooses to join our journey - for another 25.

GRIEF

GRIEF takes many shapes and forms.
I choose to slip away to a quiet place to digest the catastrophes that seem so daily.

My sister, the botanical artist, drew this
years ago.  This tulip died naturally,
when it was done living.

It seems that every day another terrorist has made the choice to snuff out life.
It's like these children of God have had a mind-altering experience where the value of life has been washed from their brains.

The Boston Marathon was especially difficult after the Sandy Hook school shooting.
A finish line filled with overachievers and their cheering squads. . . as I prefer to call them.

Family members cheering others on as brave soles press through mental and physical obstacles to complete a twenty-six mile endurance challenge.
No matter how many hours it takes, just to finish the race is a miracle in my book.

And then there were those who were one mile or less from the finish line and were stopped.
Rightly so.
This was for their protection but what a blow.

An artist's palate reminds me of God's
perfect spectra of color set before us
to enjoy as we experience our
lives unfold naturally, in God's
perfect timing.

And then there were those who cheered others across the finish line and who were so eager to think of themselves running the race ... some day ... in the future ..... but then ...
Legs blown off.
Legs and arms separated from a healthy body.
The eight-year old who was killed, the foreign student whose parents were too far away to even touch her lifeless body.
The others maimed so deeply, their recovery will take ever-so-long.

What has happened that God's creation, a mere mortal, decides to kill another for no reason at all?
Why do we play God and snuff out life because . . .  just because?

Why did a soccer player separate from reality as he hit the ref  . . . who  . . . died . . . from the blow?
How can a 'wrong call' bring forth such seething anger to cause this to happen in the first place?

Hands to Work, Hearts to God.
Why can't we all live by this Amish saying?
The work of their hands is Worship to God.

Who is remembering to call upon the God who gave his Son so that we might learn to love unconditionally?
Who is remembering to call upon God when anger begins to simmer . . . way before it consumes us?
How can we have such emotion pent up inside of us that it explodes peoples' lives?
When did we decide that we know more than God does as far as what is right and what is wrong?

Do you see why I do not write when I am filled with grief?
I slip deep inside myself and ask these questions.

"I will HONOR the worship
of Christ in my heart and
try to keep it all the year."
Most fruitful belief systems are
 founded on honoring God daily.

  It might be me that gets too angry to control my temper.
  It might be me that becomes so self-righteous that I want to destroy
  others who do not believe as I do?

  I pray that I never even begin to think angry thoughts.
  And, if I do have angry thoughts, may I release them to God to snuff
  them out.

  Anger, if not released to One who is omnipresent, omnipotent, infinitely
  more than any human being, can turn into action.
  Action, even speaking wrong words, is lethal.
  I grieve every single day.

The Angle, Gabriel, came to Mary
with Good News.  Perhaps God needs
to remind us that, because of Mary's
faithfulness to God, we have the
Good News dwelling among us
who, through our prayer, will
overcome this present evil with Good.

  I grieve for those lost soles
  who choose to be their own
  little god.
  I grieve and pray.
  I pray for God to come in power to sweep clean our hearts, renew the Spirit of Holiness and make us thirst for God's righteousness, not our own.
Who knows when I'll write again.
I need to grieve and pray. . . and Pray. . .
 and Pray Some More.

TOO LONG

I love this clock with hebrew numbers.
Time never seems to long when I read
it in Hebrew.

I wonder.
It it too long between posts?
Does anyone really see what I write?
Are my journey-notes too lengthy?
Why are so many interested in my Daily Graces blog but so few look at the other blog sites?

I love the old adage, "It's not for me to wonder why but it is for me to do or die."
I think I have repeated this saying for years too long to count.
But it's true.

I'm suppose to do what I do when I do it.
And that's that.
If notes are too long . . .
Or, if it is too long between notes . . .
that's OK.

I read this before we began our long
trips.  My brother, the writer, makes
some long, hard trips seem so short
and easy.  I laughed for a long time!
You can find it on Amazon.com
You'll love it even if you know
nothing about the Lotus cars.

The blog is mostly for me, to express myself.
If someone wants to come along and read it, that is nice.
It's not bad to have a conversation with oneself.

I have been helping out a church a L  O  N  G  way from here.
With stops it takes about four hours each way.
That is a Looooooooong drive compared to our usual weekly route.

We wind up hills and down into lush valleys.
We see cows lingering and sheep grazing.
We silently slip through one tunnel and the next almost immediately.
Just a few miles down the road there is another tunnel.

The roads are good and traffic is minimal at the time we choose to travel.
So far the drive has not felt  'too long.'
So far, it is just right.

That's why, when I said, 'yes' to the one who called, it felt right.

These are NOT the tunnels we went
through but we saw one that was
a long way off the beaten path.

We wanted to explore a part of the state we had not yet seen.
We wanted to help folks who were in need for just a month or two.

We have renewed energy with limited expectations.
Yet, we have been pleasantly surprised by those who received us.
God's grace is flowing through us and through them and our time with them never seems long enough.

Maybe that is what God wants us to know.
When we follow His direction and say "yes" when God guides to do so, 'longness' does not matter.
If God is leading, the adventure is never too long.
It's always just right.

   I pray it is not 'too long' before I make more blog-notes.

This is one of many farms we passed as Spring peaks through soggy dirt.  We have so much open land dotting the long distances between towns.  That's why the highway is sometimes the only road we see for long distances.