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I woke up at 2:30 this morning. The full moon was brilliant and beautiful. So bright it cast shadows across the yard. I had to go out and take a few photos.
Then I had to stop and consider how our Lord created the moon and stars to remind us of His watchfulness in our lives. He is always there, just like the sun, moon and stars above. No matter that a few clouds obscure the sight, He is there!

106_0343trees and clouds

This is a reminder to myself. Recently I found I have a couple of serious, long term medical conditions. I will be dealing with them the rest of my life. Adjusting my thoughts and attitude is a big part of how that ‘rest of my life’ is going to be. I want to use this little vignette as my future example.

There are two sisters in our community, a bit older than I am and they both have many health issues right now. Both have husbands and families, relatively nice homes and a lot of support. So do I.

Sister One faces her ills head on, fighting all the way, getting out to walk, spending time with people. She will greet you with a smile most days, and rarely ever mentions how she feels or what is going on physically. She nearly always asks what is going on and is enthusiastic or sympathetic or what ever fits the situation. She carries with her an aura of peace, calm and hope.

Sister Two, however, walls herself away, staying home, often not getting up from her recliner except to use the bathroom and eat. On the days she is willing to accept visitors, her only topic of conversation is her last appointment, current treatments and how she feels. And sadly, she does not want to know about anything outside her sphere of misery. This sister radiates fear, sorrow and despair.

I know illness and events can bring a person down. and I know depression is a cruel monster. Seeing these two women, so alike in many ways and yet, facing the same battle so differently, brings this home again.

Let me always remember these ladies, and try to model my actions after Sister One.

At the Farmers Market

As you know, we have been busy here on Sunrise Ridge, garden is coming in and lots of food is going into jars.

Last weekend, Hubby, Brett and I loaded up some pickles and assorted jelly for a trip to the local Farmers Market.

I was amazed with the selection of products from out little rural area. There were chicks and chickens, quail and other poultry, lovely wreaths, a booth of homemade soaps, lots of melons and veggies, jewelry and other crafts, houseplants and homemade baked goods to name just a few.

Friendly folk congregated in the building, passing the time, stopping to chat and purchase the offered wares

We set up our table and placed the jars in what we hoped would be an attractive display.

We even brought along some samples of the pickles to let folks taste the products before buying.

Our venture was successful, we sold all our jams and jellies, most of the pickles and came home with enough ‘profit’ to purchase a couple boxes of jars and necessary ingredients for more of what sold well. Not to mention a few ideas for other things people asked about.

Hubby was rather impressed and mentioned possibly trying a larger market next week when our local one is not open.

I plan to go back, not just to sell my goods, but to enjoy the gathering and the old time fair-like atmosphere  as well.

Do you have a local Farmers Market? Do you support it?

A young mother of three I know, lamented, “I wish I could snap my fingers and a genie would come clean my house.”

I knew that feeling, during the long hot summers of my own kids growing up, even as I babysat grandkids, nieces and nephews in the more recent past.

As I look back, yes, the genie would have been nice. Maybe I could have managed time better. Who knows?

I do know, moments of wonder, drawing pictures, weed bouquets in grimy hands, blowing soap bubbles in the wind, playing with them in the sprinkler, hearing them say, “Please, read/tell us a story”, and “Can we have a tea party?”, are much more precious than spotless floors, folded laundry and a clean sink will ever be.

Housework lasts a short time, so does childhood. Housework lasts forever, children grow up and move on in the blink of an eye.

I’ll take the memories, a weed bouquet and a tea party!

Some day, dear, you will wish for these things too.

Grandson and family came by for a visit today.

At near noon, I was still in my PJ’s laying on the futon in the living room.

Three year old great-grandson: “Why so you still have your bejammers on”

Me: “I was sick and had to go to the hospital, I am better, but I have to rest a lot right now.”

Five year old great-granddaughter: “did you get a baby? That’s why mama went to the hospital.”

There are some questions even a grandma can’t come up with answers for.

Hubby discovered he really likes some types of pickles. Likes them enough, in fact, that he has been learning his way around the hot water bath canner very well!

Today, he made bread and butter pickles and a batch of dilled okra.

You might wonder why he did that?

It is simple, I spent a few days in hospital and have not got back up to par… He had been great about helping slice veggies and pack jars.  The garden hasn’t slowed down one bit. Vegetables  just keep piling up!

Today’s abundance of cucumbers and okra had to be canned up, so he did it! I read the instructions, he made his brines and took right over.

He’s a good man, my pickle packing Papa!

This morning, peaches were my goal.

Stopping in Ellsinore MO for breakfast at the Log Cabin Café, Hubby noticed a sign for “Fresh Produce” as we turned off the highway.

Breakfast over and with no specific destination, we followed the road about a mile to Weavers Greenhouse.

There we were greeted by a family of Mennonites who work the gardens, run the greenhouse and a pretty fine produce stand.

Some of the girls were hanging laundry, out, a barefoot boy or two headed to one of the gardens, hoes in hand.

Fresh produce! Oh my goodness! Tomatoes, cucumbers, beets, peppers, new potatoes, summer squash, and melons, in wooden slat baskets, and peaches! Colors, scents and textures to delight the senses.

A little girl, kapp askew, braid bouncing on her back, pale blue dress rumpled, ran down the path, “We are going ‘swinning’ this afternoon”, she announced with a grin, as she skipped to a stop near the door of the produce stand.

I have no photo, only the one painted in my mind of childish joy and carefree youth, what a lovely picture that is!

Yesterday, my sister and I went down some old dirt roads together.

One stop took me back some 50+ years, as we found and photographed a house much like my in-laws when Hubby and I first wed. That house had no electricity, no water running from a tap. It held respect, knowledge and caring people, for which I am forever grateful.

out withBJ for the day 027pro.

All this picture needs is me and Granny,sitting on the porch, enjoying the summer afternoon. Feeling the breeze, listening to cicadas and birds sing, a glass of cold well water in hand. Knowing a ‘canning’ of green beans, one of tomatoes, and a batch of pickles are sealing in the kitchen. The wood stove is cooling down, dishes done up, floor is swept…nothing to do for an hour or two, until supper. At peace with the world.

Down a dirt road, at the low water crossing, cool water moves over the dam. Time to stop, sit quietly and take a few moments to contemplate the wonders of nature and the glory of God’s creation…

In those moments, listen: ripples and soft splashes. Singing birds.

Look: flashing bird wings, wild flowers.

Feel: warm sun and damp breeze.

Smell: flowers, rich earth.


You cannot purchase a moment like this.

airstrip, mayholler, maple trees on B 052

Judge not…

Earlier today, someone posted about a child ‘misbehaving’ in a store, the poster wanted to go up and give the parent a lecture on ‘parenting’.

I had to ask myself, “Are you sure? Do you have the answers? Are you qualified to make this judgment?”

I was not present, so I do not know.
As I read the post, much of what was described sounded like an autism ‘meltdown’.  In a crowded store, lots of lights, sounds and people, sometimes only being touched in passing, many autistic children  scream or become physically violent in order to cope with a situation they cannot react to in the way others do.
No, the parent did not react as you felt they should have. Had they removed the child or given your suggested  ‘good whooping’ that might well have exacerbated an already upsetting situation.
Autism doesn’t manifest with spots, rashes or missing parts… it is an overwhelming neurological condition and effects the child, family and caregivers. A parent has to learn what works and they can only do so much.
Maybe not, but sometimes our attitude only adds fuel to an unquenchable flame.  It was probably best, you walked on and only raved on FB this morning.
I live with someone with autism, when he was small, this ‘inappropriate behavior’ was one of the things we had to deal with frequently.
He has learned and progressed, we have learned and progressed. Crowds and lots of noise still make him ‘melt’. It’s easier now to refocus or leave, but there are times when you just have to bite the bullet and do your best.

And we try, every day has a challenge, some very small, some groundbreaking, some earth-shaking. We win some and we lose some, but we keep on.


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