It’s officially summer.
And I am blogging from my phone while I sit at the park that is just around the corner of my house. We brought the cousins along today, and the boys are making up all manner of variations of “jackpot”. I’m pretty sure the rule-making takes up more time than the game?!
Its a perfect summer day. A little humid, a little overcast, but lovely to relax in my lawnchair and knit and blog.
We have a new puppy, and his name is Trigger. He is the cutest thing ever, other than the fact that the chewing on all manner of things has commenced. I’m trying not to think about it. And what is likely to get destroyed in the process.
My boys and man planted a row of cosmos in our garden this year, and I couldn’t resist going out Saturday and picking the first few blooms. A couple of them were pretty ragged, but to think! Fresh wildflowers from my own garden on my counter! I don’t know what is going on with my obsession for flowers and just all of nature’s beauty recently. I have always loved our mountains here, but lately it seems that everywhere I look, the landscape explodes with beauty. The way the light lands in a stream through the window, vibrant purple cosmos, fresh dill’s smell and it’s soft, bright green needle-leaves. The way the mountains rise up blue toward the sky, and the way the trees are leafy and blow lazily in the breeze. I’ve never been so aware of it all.
Every morning I have been taking my coffee, Bible and journal to our front porch. I watch the sun light up the field and paint it golden; the drab, tan leftover wheat turned shining and bright with the sun’s brushstrokes. The birds are already singing when I walk out, tiptoeing so as not to wake any sleeping munchkins… and it somehow seems that God Himself has orchestrated the bird’s chorus and beauty in my front yard just for me. A “good morning”, of sorts.
So I whisper “good morning” back, and smile at the truth reminding me that all this Creation, all this I see wouldn’t have to be there. But it was created for me to enjoy. It was made with me in mind. It’s almost too much to comprehend. The love He has for us, shouting out from Creation, telling us in the most glorious way that He longs for us to see Him clear, to know Him well, to see just how good He is.
We went to an antique tractor (thing? Day? I don’t know.) at a recreation park near here last Saturday. There was lots of stuff there. Blacksmithing. A chainsawing competition. Homemade doughnuts and pork BBQ sandwiches. And an antique tractor pull. There were auctioneers and hit and miss engines and all manner of tractors and farmers and old men (and young) in overalls and an atmosphere of festivity. There was a wood turning demonstration and the ones doing so were kindly making tiny little tops and tiny little containers for the kids watching. And the doughnuts. Did I mention the doughnuts? Oh, oh, oh. The doughnuts. Words kind of fail. But I’ll try. Huge, hot, glazed and poofy. I had one, and it was amazing. Hot and fresh. Then later at home I had another, cold, and it was amazing in a whole different way. Slightly deflated, a bit crunchy and the solidfied glaze crumbling instead of oozing, the you-better-lean-over-your-plate kind of thing. Sheer doughnut bliss.
But I digress. Back to tractors. There was a tractor pull, and we got all excited to see which one was going to go the furthest, pulling the weight down the run. I had my eyes set on the gorgeous red Farmalls, (I know
next to nothing about tractors. But I really think the Farmall tractors are so pretty.) But there was a shiny Oliver and the John Deeres’ did well too. See, I even know the names.
It was a good day. Tired and sweaty children, happy and full of all the sights and tastes and sounds of the day.
I’ve been knitting a beautiful lace shawl lately. The pattern is easy so far, and the lace (read: exciting part) is just beginning. It’s been a thoughtful knit. A knit that while mindless, has also been a time for me to pray for the friend who will receive it. I love to take the time to think about the person who is the recipient of my knitting, hoping for them, praying for them, thinking of them, and desiring that they would be filled to the brim so much with truth, and Jesus, and joy through whatever He allows. Sometimes it’s hard things. Sometimes it’s happy things. But regardless… that no matter what, that they/we wouldnt ever be shaken from the truth that He sees us and knows us and is for us.
I’ve also been making Greek yogurt lately. Ahhh. So yummy. With berries, stevia, and maple flavoring for me. With vanilla, raspberry jam or fruit and a drizzle or three of honey for the kiddos. I’m always amazed at how much more mild it is than store-bought yogurt. Eating it plain isn’t what I do, but it’s not inconceivable with the way this stuff tastes. I really need to make granola now.
And speaking of berries, we have been getting some black raspberries from our wild bushes. Mr. J picked about a cup and wanted a pie, and so I combined the rest of the blackberries I had in the fridge, along with some of last year’s blueberries from the freezer, and voila! Triple berry cream pie! It did not last long enough, but oh, it sure did taste good with coffee that evening.
It’s another day now, and it was yesterday when I was at the park phone-blogging. My house is cool and it’s overcast while the quiet of afternoon napping and boys reading the Mandie series I collected every birthday and Christmas when I was their age. I love when they love books. It brings back so many memories, and it also reminds me of the bliss of reading a good books. I haven’t been doing much of that lately, what with knitting and other things that occupy my attention while I’m sitting down. Although. There is a book I got the other day on my Kindle that I’ve been perusing in my spare moments. Actually I’ve been devouring it. Have implemented several ideas and we are seeing some absolutely lovely results. Oh, trust me. The getting there isn’t always lovely. But bit by bit, sometimes in small ways, and other things that are huge and amazing, some of the things that we know would have been diagnosed with all sorts of capital letter combinations are disappearing.
That being said, I must add a disclaimer. I am a firm believer that the Lord is the number one Leader and Guider of parental instruction. I believe also that when we ask His guidance, He does provide it. And I’m ever so grateful He has done so in the form of this particular author. It’s good, old-fashioned advice that cuts through so much of the physcobabble of today’s parenting and adoption experts. Best of all, it confirms much of what I’ve already believed at the back of my mind, the things I’ve felt to be true for a long time. And when something confirms, it is ….really confirming.
How’s that for profound? = )
My afternoon coffee is nearly drained, and the munchkins are up. There is a puppy-training session going on on the front porch and I’ve got a bucket of green beans to snap. Yay for fresh green beans, fresh squash, and leftover chicken and rice cassserole for supper!