Category Archives: Doing life

The old dark and stormy night routine

Loud, disturbing storms rolled slowly through my long restless night. After dawn, the sun came slowly through the lingering clouds and there was the lovely lush green glow of this rainy summer.

Fortunately the power held and I could proceed with the days work of pickling. A kind neighbor had called with an offer of cucumbers and zucchini. Since we did not plant a vegetable garden this year, this was a real gift.

First, I made the Zucchini into soup from a recipe given to me a number of years ago. It is very similar to this one. We love the curry seasoning and usually have it warm. I’m so pleased to have several containers in the freezer.

It has been quite a few years since I had enough cucumbers growing to make pickles or relish and I had to gather some fresh spices for them. The process is slow and I feel the connection with the long history of women in summer kitchens “putting up” from the bounty of the land when I get to do these things. It was a shock for me to look at the old cookbook and realize the first time I made Million-Dollar Pickles was July, 1975! Yes, I write in my cookbooks, leaving the date and a comment trail through my years in the kitchen.

Jars of pickles, jelly or jam cooling on the counter always bring a feeling of satisfaction, of blessing.

Little faith

Last September, I wrote about finding seed clusters in the spent Calla Lily blooms. I waited and on October 31, I gathered my harvest.

Tiny seeds sloughed from corn like coatings. One can find anything on-line but directions are not the same as in person tutoring to me and I was left with this small collection of seeds to protect till spring. I put them in a small cardboard box and while I didn’t forget them, I also didn’t plant them as directed. But on a putter-y kind of day in early June, I sprinkled them in a pot. My little seeds were faithful to their calling to live and sprang up!

They have been growing well and I’ve transplanted them into another pot. Rain and sun will nourish them well.

There are some areas of my life where seeds of faith lie scattered in the soil of my heart. I’m encouraged that like the Calla Lily seeds, these faith seeds are growing good roots.

To sparkle

I drink in the beauty long delayed and so welcomed. No matter the time of day, these lily-like flowers enchant. Life locked in bulbs with a mysterious time clock – leaf, bloom, rest – go round the seasons.

I’m honored that my minor contributions to their wellbeing allow the cycle to continue and they flourish. The name Amaryllis means “to sparkle”.

Outside, the same clock of life ticks. Green leaves push hard through frozen ground, leaf litter, snow and ice.

And morning surprises with snowdrops seeded into lawn and weed patch – nature’s seed time and harvest continues. In the gentle rhythm of seasons, the light of life can shine deeply into dark and hidden places. In prepared soil or hostile environment, in tender care or neglect, snowdrops grow and bloom.

I’m observing lessons of both hope and warning to consider what is growing in the soil of my life and heart. Today, I choose hope for myself – to see in these blooms a willingness to embrace life, the new thing springing forth even in what seems to be wilderness. Choosing life, growing in obedience to Creator God, persevering as from a seed growing through harshness of soil, sometimes bitter cold, flood or drought and even life’s mowing seasons and on to maturity, bringing forth beauty to delight the soul of another whether or not they understand my name or words or calling. Perhaps then I would sparkle too.

A Simple Gift

The words of the old Shaker song go round in my head. Finding myself in “the place just right” seems hard some days – like the other day when I realized that the inkjet cartridge had leaked black all over lovely wood and then I picked up the wrong can of paint and though I thought it looked a bit dark – it was wet… I went on painting. And then I had to paint again. <sigh> I know, in the grand scheme of life, not so big a deal but it is the little things some days that seem to overflow the cup. What do you do with those days? When the wind blows hard and there are even waves in the birdbath.

In 1985, it was really big deal to have our beloved Nana diagnosed with dementia. We tried keeping her at home with helpers, but the disease took her away in giant steps. Too soon, for her safety and well being, it became a necessity to place her in a care facility. It was a time of busy grief.

Christmas was coming. I had so much on my mind that day I drove the beltway – from where and to where – I no longer remember. But on that drive, the thought came to me that we could give her an album quilt for Christmas. Only one problem. I had no idea what an album quilt really was but I thought of blocks, large ones, that would tell a story, the story of her life.

I went to a small quilt shop with my idea and the staff was so helpful with the project from beginning to end; even supplying fabric from personal stashes when I cut the border fabric wrong and there was not enough to finish.

I sent fabric and the plan out to family and everyone worked on squares that said something about her life. Everyone worked quickly, taking comfort in being able to do something, anything, to bring some comfort to her, and ourselves. Soon, all the blocks were back and it was time to make the quilt.

I had never made a quilt before…

Sewing the blocks and borders together was the easy part. Then came backing and batting and I recall taping it to my kitchen floor as the only place to stretch it out and layer it. Finally it was pined together and ready to quilt.

I had never made a quilt before…

I called my friend Lucy. She was a Southern girl with a country background. Did she know how to quilt? “Quilting should enhance your design, don’t do too much.” What did that mean?! I stitched some, and then some more. Then came the binding – and somehow – it was done – by Christmas.The quilt became a great gift to us as we felt we could wrap her in our love. Nana used the quilt for 4 1/2 years. At first the staff thought it a nuisance, then it changed their view of this wonderful woman. It gave her an identity, a life; it became a conversation point. It reminded them that she was loved and cared about.

There is nothing fancy about the quilt but it is now a family treasure, faded, worn and soft.

And today? That gift to Nana, opened a space for me. For when the wind blows hard, the ink spills, the paint goes on wrong… there is a calm that comes with fingering fabrics, hearing the whirl of the machine.

We woke to snow today, rather like a celebration to remember Nana on her birthday, with love.

Loretta 1906 – 1990

Leftover Rain

Leftover rain glistening on grasses – calm beauty sustaining the dental chair visit!

I think I’ll call her Goldie-locks

Her real name is Marigold. Youngish and still a bit skittish with strangers, our new Gran-pup came to visit with her mom and dad. Marigold was rescued a few months ago and then adopted into the family a few weeks ago. This is her first visit and we found her to be a lovely houseguest, quiet and polite. Isn’t she lovely? The sound of her nails on the floors brought back so many memories of our Ada and the silence when she had gone was loud.

August days bring parties and birthdays and here in the “land of pleasant living”, steamed blue crabs covered in seasoning are on the table. Smiles are on faces and warm memories are being made. I hope you are enjoying these last warm days of summer!

July 4

Happy Independence Day, USA!

Hope you are celebrating with family or friends or even by yourself. Remember those who hoped great things, turned their backs on all that was familiar and came to this land bringing us to this day and place, home.

Journey to rest

Some journeys are hard and it is easy to lose the way when winds blow fierce and rain and hail drive you to shelter. I’m still engaged with Bonnie’s book, Finding Spiritual Whitespace. I expect to be on this journey for a while.

I actually put it aside – a kind of running away from the storm – to read Mister Owita’s Guide to Gardening only to find connection in Carol Wall’s memoir too. Then I was back walking with Bonnie. During this month, I had some hard personal interactions that stole my words but reading on and being connected with others on the blog tour has been a great help.Bonnie asks in one prompt, “What feels comforting to you? List the things you like that bring your soul comfort. Uncover some whitespace by savoring one of these things this week, no matter how insignificant it feels.”

So I took myself to the library today; books have brought me comfort my whole life. I seemed always to be able to read 🙂 I remember my brother letting me walk along to the library and then, no doubt, he carried some of my books home. What joy when they built the new library just two blocks from our home!

Now my library is about 10 miles from home. As I walked back through the parking lot, I stopped mid-stride puzzled as it seemed a red heart was waving at me from under a tree. By the time the books were stowed and the camera set, the light had changed a bit but here is my love note from Jesus to the little girl in me – “I see you, Elaine!”

McGregor, where are you?

He left his shovel. There is a great deal of work to be done before the rain comes again. Many inches of rain have followed the snow and lush growth overwhelms some spaces while seeds are still packaged. And, there are rabbits. Very large rabbits.

Rabbits have been rare visitors to the hilltop. For years we only saw them down near the driveway. And I envisioned them living in the bank of the hill under tree roots. I believed Beatrix Potter.

Actually, I believed Mr & Mrs Fox had everything under control and were serving rabbit pie to their young. I think they must have moved since I now watch the bold, joyous antics of celebration as rabbits roam the garden area taking bites here and there.

On the last sunny note – gold in the garden –

While the rains came, I decided to purge my cookbook and recipe collection. It went badly. There were piles everywhere and I thought I might just put everything back, but that never seems to work either.

So, procrastination led me to play on-line where beautiful inspiration draws me to Botanic Blue. Oh my, Judith wrote on Organizing Keepsakes in Baskets and my problem was solved – for today.

Ta-Da! Now they are all in a basket with a vintage hand towel, recipe cards, a pen and a notebook! The book sale items have moved to their box, the counter is clean, and I am smiling! I love creative solutions! Even temporary ones.

But, those shelves are still full! How did that happen?

Small spring joys

An early spring morning with hyacinth and coffee is such a lovely gift.