Posts Categorized: Joy

Dish? Washer!

October 25th, 2018 | Joy, Patience

At some point in my childhood, I began, as did JoAnne, washing dishes. We started on Sundays, after our big roast beef and mashed potatoes Sunday dinner. Later, we began to wash dishes every weeknight, too.

Several years later, Mother waited until the KitchenAid dishwashers went on sale and bought one. She lost some storage space, as a cabinet and a couple of drawers had to be removed so the dishwasher could be installed. That dishwasher kept on washing dishes for about 30 years. And, even then, the dishes were getting washed, but the hinges on the door began to fall apart, and eventually, the door, once opened, wouldn’t close.

We replaced that dishwasher, but it only lasted three or four years. By then, Daddy had passed away, and David and I had moved in. The door (the door again!) had developed a leak that could not be repaired. So, we were looking at having to get another new dishwasher. Without a lot of study on the matter, we took the advice of a salesman at one of those big stores that sell all sort of appliances (and paint and lumber, etc.), and bought a lemon. We didn’t know it was a lemon. It just was a lemon.

It needed two repairs while it was covered by warranty. And another one after that. Then the water didn’t flow into the machine. Repair people ordered a new part and replaced the old one. And, still, no water. At least not on a regular basis. Sometimes, it worked; sometimes it didn’t. I gave up.

This time, I tried to be more involved, pro-active, informed. I went to Consumer Reports to find the best, most reliable dishwashers, because, seriously, I’m thinking that this will be the last dishwasher I will buy. I went to all the local stores that sell dishwashers. And, in all those places, no one came to help me. And, I was walking up and down the dishwasher displays, taking photographs, reading the all the information posted on the machines. No one helped.

Ultimately, I went to Best Buy, which does sell appliances. And, does have salespeople who volunteer to help. Together, the salesman and I looked at machines, both in the store and online. He printed out a comparison of four machines and all their attributes, and sent me home with the information. David looked at the choices and thought the one I liked best was a good choice. I went back a few days later and ordered the machine, which, of course, would have to be ordered. So, I waited. And washed dishes. By hand.

At last, delivery day came. The guy arrived right on time. He came in, looked things over, measured the space, and said, “It won’t fit. It’s too tall.”

(At this point, I can go on and on about what happened next, and next, and next. But, it’s a little boring. And tiresome. So, we’ll cut to . . .)

Then the new dishwasher arrived. It got installed with no additional issues (well, there was that plumbing thing . . .)

Just let me say that dishwashers have changed since my mother bought a top of the line KitchenAid. The days of “put the dishes in the dishwasher, add the detergent, press ‘Start'” are long past. Long past.

I read the user’s manual twice through. I spent an hour or so dealing with the local water hardness issue. Yes, there’s an issue.

This machine needs to know the water hardness level of our local water. I was supposed to contact my water department to find out what the hardness level is. I pretty much knew already, but I did go to the web site and look it up. We’re at the dishwasher’s level 7, the highest one. That’s important, because I’m supposed to put in “Special Dishwashing Salt” to help the dishwasher to clean appropriately. And, the booklet says, very clearly, that I should NOT use rock salt or table salt, but only “Special Dishwashing Salt,” which, of course, one can get from Amazon. So, I had to wait a couple of days to use the dishwasher for the first time.

There is a place in the machine for the “Special Dishwashing Salt,” and a special funnel for putting it in. And, I have to use the digital display to inform the dishwasher what hardness level our water is, so that the machine will, um, do something with the salt, so that my dishes will get good and washed, the way they’re supposed to.

: The book does have three languages, but still, it’s pretty thick. And, truth is, I’ve not read everything completely.

: The “Special Dishwashing Salt.” I ordered 4 boxes from Amazon. I could hardly carry the carton into the house, and I’m not exaggerating.

: The newly installed dishwasher, with a digital display larger than that of the oven, or the fridge. Or, possibly both of them combined.

: I’m going to have to keep the instruction book nearby for weeks. So many functions, so many cycles, so many pages in that book.

: The first load of very, very clean dishes.

She is energetic, a hard worker, and watches for bargains.

Proverbs 31:17b, 18 (The Living Bible)

Funny thing about bargains. Just because something is inexpensive, sometimes time will tell whether it’s a bargain or not. Something expensive is a bargain if it lasts for a long time. Something inexpensive may turn out to be the opposite of a bargain, if the repairfolks have to keep coming back again and again and again, to fix something that never has worked properly.

Olio

October 11th, 2018 | Joy, Love, Patience

The definitions of olio are:

1) a miscellaneous collection of things.

2) a variety act or show.

I’m thinking of it as the collection of things from the past week.

Peter came. There were the regular events, like Thursday night at the Mayborn Museum and a trip to Kiddieland, for the train ride and the other, carnival-type rides. There were special things, like the ScienceFest activities at the annual Arts Festival in downtown (a much-appreciated activity, as the Mayborn Museum was closed on Saturday, because there was a Baylor home football game, and they close the museum so the parking lot will be available for football goers).

: This work station was sponsored by the Rapoport Academy.

: There were lots of activities and places to work and learn. David said that Peter worked exclusively here. For three hours.

: I like to watch The Great British Bake Off, while I walk on the treadmill. Peter became interested, too. Sometimes he walks and watches.

: Sometimes it’s my turn to walk and watch. In Great Britian, they call cookies “biscuits.”

: Peter and Grandad worked a puzzle Sunday evening.

: Peter found a bee on a flower outside Central Market, when we went back to Fort Worth on Monday.

In un-Peter-related stuff:

A couple of weeks ago, I worked in the very back part of the yard, cleaning up and raking, getting ready for the newest crop of fallen leaf piles, which will be added to the compost. Something small and vicious lives out there. I was scratching my left arm when I came back into the house. By nighttime, there were several spots that needed anti-itch cream. I woke up in the night from a dream that I was covered in big round bites, and I was busily scratching my arm (for real, not just in my dream). I needed a minute to remember why I felt so itchy, and got up and added more cream.

: A day or so later, much better: less red, less itchy. It seems as though that reddest part might have actually been two or three bites.

: I still have creams I’ve purchased in the past, but also the prescription ones

: I’d seen a few white butter flies around. Then, I saw more, and they seemed to be moths, instead. When I watered this plant a few days ago, HOARDS of the white moths poured out. And the more plants I watered, the more of them flew out.

: And when I watered this watermelon begonia, TINY GRASSHOPPERS flew out and away!! It’s like PLAGUE time!

: However, in more enchanting news–triplet pomegranates on the dwarf pomegranate bush!

We had a torrential rain on Tuesday. I was headed home from my volunteer day at Book Club at West Avenue Elementary, and I was actually afraid. I couldn’t see the lines on the road. We were all creeping along. When I turned from the main thoroughfare onto the side street to go home, water gushed over my fender. EEEKK!! But, I did get home fine. And stayed there. It came and went all afternoon.

: Tuesday, I took three more big bags of very nice yarn (mostly cotton and wool, this time) to the Knitting and Crocheting group, thanks to David’s mom’s yarn-buying habit. I think one more trip might get them all into the hands of those crafty ladies.

: Wednesday evening, I went with my friend Kay to see Godspell at Baylor. I was familiar with some of the songs, but I’d never seen the musical before. It was (insert your favorite very positive adjective here. Or look up “great” in a Thesarus.) I surely felt all of those words.

: These are the sticks I picked up from the back yard, after the giant rainfall. Some of them were broken off in the rain, I suppose. Most, I think, were already broken and just lying high up in the trees, waiting for a nice wind and rain shower to knock them all to the ground.

: I went out yesterday and worked in the yard. I opened up the part of my gardening bench that hides a bin of potting soil. And, hmmm. What’s that?

: It’s a tiny mushroom, thriving in the damp and dark.

: And apparently, the little lizard weathered the storm nice and safe.

Let your heart overflow with praise to the True God of heaven, for His faithful love lasts forever.

Psalm 136:25 (The Voice)

Praise God in heaven! God’s love never fails.

Psalm 136:26 (Contemporary English Version)

Oh, give thanks to the God of heaven, for his loving-kindness continues forever.

Psalm 136:26 (The Living Bible)

Oh, give thanks to the God of heaven! For His mercy endures forever.

Psalm 136:26 (New King James Version)

O give thanks to the God of heaven, for his steadfast love endures forever.

Psalm 136:26 (New Revised Standard Version)

I couldn’t make up my mind.

I Haven’t Counted Them and I’m Not Going To

September 27th, 2018 | Faithfulness, Goodness, Joy, Kindness, Love, Patience

I mentioned before that David’s mother passed away in July. In the weeks and months before that, David and his five siblings began to decide how to divvy up a big household’s worth of belongings. There was furniture and dishes and silverware and books and jewelry and clothes and a big assortment of all sorts of stuff. There were things that several folks wanted and things that NO ONE wanted.

David went back again a couple of weeks ago. He brought home his parents’ college yearbooks and some documents and photographs. He packed up a nice sewing machine that his aunt in Memphis thought would be nice to have. He left it at her house on his way back home. And, he brought home some yarn.

A couple of David’s sisters, who live in the area, worked (and worked and worked and worked) to organize the house’s material goods. There were a lot of bags of clothing that went to helping agencies in the area. They bagged up pieces of jewelry that no one had already asked for (each sibling is supposed to take a bag, to dispose of how they wish). And they bagged up some yarn.

If you don’t participate in the yarn-based arts (knitting, crocheting, weaving), then you don’t quite understand what yarn workers are like. And what yarn workers do like. We like yarn. We might purchase some yarn that is perfect for a new project. We also might purchase some yarn that we just like, even though we don’t necessarily know what we might use it for. Or when we might use it. Some of you might suggest that we could have an obsession with yarn. We do not plan to pay attention to you.

David didn’t want very much from his parents’ house. We have a house with plenty of furniture. We have dishes and pots and pans and lamps. I don’t wear much jewelry (David did bring home the required bag of jewelry, and I have offered it up to some friends. Some of it is going to church for the preschoolers to pretend with.) I did bring home, when we were there in July, a few small Corning Ware pans. I already had a couple and they’re pretty useful. Beyond that, we didn’t collect very much. But, before he left for his most recent trip, I said, “Bring yarn.”

My sisters-in-law said that they unearthed LOTS of yarn. I think there were 60 white trash bags full of yarn. Seriously.

I belong to a knitting/crocheting group that is very helping-oriented. They create items to make chemotherapy patients comfortable, they make shawls and lap afghans for people in nursing homes, they craft handmade hats for children in a low-income child development center in town, they knit and crochet items for homeless folks. These are yarn workers on a mission.

So, I said, “Bring yarn.” He was able to pile 20 bags in the car. Here’s what 20 bags of yarn looks like:

: Yarn in my office

: Yarn in the living room

Actually, there’s quite a bit missing. I invited a yarn-desirous friend over a few days ago. She carefully went through several bags and took a couple of bags’ worth home. I’m pretty confident that I’ll be able to find loving homes for all the skeins. It may take a few weeks; there’s a limit to how much I can transport to the knitting/crocheting folks at a time.

Some of the yarn won’t really work well for places where the hats, shawls, etc. will need to be machine washed and dried. My mother-in-law purchased some really nice, quality yarns, like wools and cottons whose care tags read: “hand wash and lie flat to dry.” But, I think there will be enough to go around for whomever and whatever and however. I might even keep some for myself.

She opens her hand to the poor,
and reaches out her hands to the needy.

Proverbs 31:20 (New Revised Standard Version)

Not all the members of my yarn group are “shes.” But they are all pretty much on board with that helping and reaching out business.

Company’s Come! (Part 2)

August 2nd, 2018 | Faithfulness, Joy, Love

Sunday morning, I dropped Natalie at the Shipley’s donut place across the street from Antioch church, where she attended while she was at Baylor. After Sunday School with preschoolers, I went back to the Shipley’s, where Natalie was waiting, after the Antioch first service was over. Then we picked up JoAnne for a trip to Fort Worth to visit Kevin, April, and Peter. A nice visit, fun games, ate a soup and sandwich dinner, then took April with us to Dallas to visit our cousin Suzy.

On the way to Suzy’s, I had my phone’s maps on, so we could get quick directions. I plugged in my phone, to recharge the battery. The phone’s instructions came through the car’s audio system, as did the music I had on my phone. They fiddled with the system, trying to get the driving directions exclusively. So, three ladies with suggestions, some music, and me, uncertain about the route. They persevered, and we arrived just fine (after a small detour when I did not “turn at the second exit from the roundabout,” but instead, turned at the first exit from the roundabout).

JoAnne and Natalie hadn’t seen Suzy in years! We chatted and caught up, and slept soundly in comfortable beds.

Monday-Got up for breakfast, and chatted on and on until a late lunch, and chatted on and on until 2:00 or so. And, in there somewhere, Natalie and April took my phone out to my car and enabled the Bluetooth, which (of course) means that the music will stop when the phone gives me driving instructions.

: Suzy’s dogs are patient, but eager, waiting for their lunch

: Natalie and April are taking the dogs for their morning walk.

When those younger girls were getting some information from Siri on their phones Suzy was interested, and they worked to help her get the Siri function enabled on her phone. Two or three times, Suzy went through the steps, all the way to completion. Then, when she said, “Hey, Siri,” Siri immediately popped up, ready to help … on JoAnne’s phone. They needed a few more attempts to be successful.

The newly installed Bluetooth worked wonderfully well; we got ourselves back to Fort Worth effortlessly (pretty much). And then on back to Waco.

A box for what to keep, what to toss, what to forward to our cousins, whose dads had written, too.

Girls’ Night Out at the Movies. We went to see Ocean’s 8.

More letter-reading. (See last week’s blog.)

Natalie’s friend Hillary has come to Antioch Church for a training event. She’s staying here, too.

Tuesday-More letters. Some shopping. Some Bush’s fried chicken tenders. More letters.

: JoAnne found a photo from her high school graduation.

: And she found her high school graduation cap and gown. The “before” and the “after.”

Wednesday-After so very many days of scorching heat, this morning is really nice. Ninety-five in the afternoon, but after three-digit numbers the past many days, it seems, well, not exactly nice. But “not-quite-so-bad.”

I’ve hit a letter-reading wall. There’s so much emotion, so much anxiety. I’m having to take a break.

Childhood friend, Debbie, came over to visit. She said, “It’s just like it used to be.” (She’s sort of right.) “It even smells the same.” It is the house where she came to visit and play and spend the night with JoAnne. And maybe it does smell somewhat the same. But Daddy stopped pipe smoking in 1976. Maybe there’s a little bit of lingering pipe smoke smell. Personally, I don’t notice it. But she did say that it was just the same, but the garage door was down.

For all my growing up years, we did keep the garage door open. When Daddy went to work each morning, he lifted the garage door and it stayed up until late evening, when he was closing up the house for the night. When we moved in, twelve years ago, I kept up the habit, lowering the door when I left the house, but keeping it open when I was home. It just seems friendlier. When we were kids, all the garage doors stayed open, and that’s how we went in and out and knocked on the kitchen doors, looking for friends to play with. Recently, there have been several car break-ins in the neighborhood. A neighbor warned me that somebody could come in the garage while it was open, and hide (which is perfectly possible) and, when I left the garage and lowered the door, that thief could easily get into the house and ransack it. So, I’ve started keeping the garage door down all the time. When I remember to. And Debbie found it unusual. And somewhat wrong.

: The old way

: The new way

: We were happy to see our friend, Debbie.

We went to the James Avery jewelry store and to the Bundt Cake store. Kevin and Peter arrived. Kevin, Hillary, and team Natalie/Peter played a rousing game of Survive, a family favorite that Natalie remembers playing at our house when she was a little girl. I went to bed really early. Later, they went to Target for more games to play. I slept through all that.

Thursday-Trying to tie up loose ends, finish up, squeeze out all the love and joy and fun.

: JoAnne sorts and selects things from her school days scrapbooks.

: Natalie and Peter spend some very quality time together.

: One more lunch at Schmaltz’s (aren’t we happy)

: One more lunch at Schmaltz’s (the silly version)

And because we haven’t had enough company, another of Natalie’s friends who in Waco for the Antioch Church training. Her name is Robin.

: Robin thinks the hammered dulcimer is cool. She thinks she might like to tune it! (Going along with the joke.)

: JoAnne, Robin, and Natalie, ready for a good night’s sleep, in several hours, because Kevin bought a new game for us to play.

Friday morning, they’ll be getting into a rental car. Kevin will be leaving, too, for the Bell County Comic Con. Peter and I will be somewhat lonesome. Maybe we’ll make some cookies.

People who don’t take care of their relatives, and especially their own families, have given up their faith. They are worse than someone who doesn’t have faith in the Lord.

Timothy 5:8 (Contemporary English Version)

There are lots of ways to take care of family, our biological folks, and our faith family. We often think first of the financial and physical needs. Emotional needs are important, too. Working, playing, and laughing together feed us significantly, in ways that are sometimes as, or more, important than a healthy meal. Doing those things with family and friends also makes us all healthier.

Company’s Come!

July 26th, 2018 | Joy, Love

My sister JoAnne and my niece Natalie arrived earlier this week for a visit. I picked them up at DFW on Wednesday, early afternoon. Flight on time, bags arrived. Then we made a stop to take some family photos to one of David’s nieces and her husband, who told us the story of how, yes, he did, indeed, deliver his newest son, in their car in the hospital parking lot! What a guy!

Then, after a stop at In-and-Out Burger, a nice safe trip back to Waco. I didn’t realize how long it had been since they’d been here. JoAnne kept saying things like, “Oh, look, your new countertops” (2013), and “Oh, you moved the treadmill in here!” (also 2013). And that sort of thing. And, a good night’s rest.

It’s been several years since Natalie lived here and ‘way more years since JoAnne lived here (even though she’s visited), but there’ve been lots of changes, including the new way that we’re sort of famous now. (Yes, we’ve been famous for lots of things in the recent past, but we don’t need to go there, do we.)

JoAnne and Natalie playing a “Connect Four” type game while we’re waiting for our turn to have breakfast.

So, yesterday morning, off to the be part of the Magnolia phenomenon. First-Magnolia Table. Not too long a wait. Delicious breakfast. Delightful waitress (who actually had attended, for one year, the same elementary school where JoAnne and I went).

Then, on to the Silos. No problem parking, not too crowded in the store. It is summer in Central Texas, so we didn’t spend much time enjoying the outdoor fun stuff there. And, for the next month, Thursdays-Saturdays, the original Magnolia store is open, selling “last chance and slightly damaged” items at a discount. So we went there, too.

Natalie and I were a little confused by this. Is Abraham Lincoln trying to convince Civil War contemporaries that they should be partying like Revolutionary-era folks?

We visited a shopping area in a downtown warehouse, where many small shops have space for selling a wide variety of interesting, modern, antique, decorative, and functional things. We drove around the Baylor area and looked at all the new buildings now siting on the sites of places where Natalie shopped (the old HEB grocery store) and lived.

We went to Lowe’s and to Target, looking for a new coiled hose for me. As we were walking into Target, I said, “Did we eat lunch?” Hmmm. I guess we didn’t. So, after Target, we went to Schmaltz’s Sandwich Shop, a long time favorite of the family. JoAnne did mention that, when she was looking up how to spell it, she discovered that “Schmaltz” means “rendered chicken fat.” “Do you suppose they know?” she asked, while we were eating our yummy sandwiches that do not seem to have any rendered chicken fat in them. “I suppose if it was that easy for you to discover, that many other diners have discovered it, also. And probably have felt like they should know,” I said. “But I don’t know that we should want to chat with them about it.”

We went to the second-hand book store next to the sandwich shop, bought some books, and came home.

One of the tasks we hope to complete/reach a half-way point/at least get started on, is to go through some boxes and bags of our parents’ memorabilia (letters, photos, documents) and determine what can be discarded, what should be kept, and what we’re individually willing to deal with. It could take a while.

: JoAnne, reading a letter from our grandmother to out dad, about how the old dog died and she’s gotten a new dog, but can’t decide what to name it (maybe a letter we don’t need to keep)

: The stack of boxes and the bags we need to sort through.

My child, obey the teachings
of your parents,

and wear their teachings
as you would a lovely hat
or a pretty necklace.

Proverbs 1:8-9 (Contemporary English Version)

I don’t know how much ground we’ll cover. Maybe we’ll find some interesting, unknown, unusual things. Maybe we’ll see our parents in a new light. Probably we’ll find the same sorts of things, attitudes, and ideas with which we’re already pretty familiar. As JoAnne often says, “It’ll be an adventure.”

Is That YOURS?

July 12th, 2018 | Joy

Yes, I’ve been teaching little kids at church for quite a while. And since 1978, I’ve been teaching Sunday School in the same room. So, yeah, I guess, I do somewhat, a little bit, think of it as my room. I do try to remember to say, “The room where I teach Sunday School … ,” because that’s the truth. Other things happen in the room, like Children’s Bible Club (which is what we call the event that is typically referred to as “Bible School”).

Children’s Bible Club happened last month, a couple of weeks after Fun with Friends. I e-mailed the woman who was going to be teaching in the room (you know, “the room where I teach Sunday School”). She has as much, if not more, experience than I, so I knew she wouldn’t be confused about things like, “why are all these blocks stacked on shelves instead of in a bin?” and “why is there play dough in here?” and “WHY ON EARTH IS THERE A REAL STAPLER SITTING OUT WHERE KIDS CAN GET AT IT?!?”

I was careful to put away all the books and puzzles that I’d been using for a couple of weeks in Sunday School, to leave space for what she needed to put out. I tidied up the dramatic play center, checking for errant markers/crayons that had found their way into drawers and play purses, and gathering up the play money and putting it back into the cash register.

I replenished the art shelves, checking the paper, markers, and glue bottles.

: Was there enough tape in the dispenser?

: Were the glue bottles near-empty or almost full? And-that stapler? Were there staples?

: Did the clipboards have paper?

: Marker holder full? Markers themselves still writing and drawing?

: Enough dot stickers?

: I purchase interesting colors of masking tape when I run across it. Putting it in a heavy-duty office type dispenser makes it much easier for me, as well as the kids, to get tape.

Everything seemed ready to go. I got a good report from the teacher about the things they did.

The next Sunday, the room looked all orderly. I got out the things I needed for Sunday School. Teachers arrived. Kids came. We were all involved and busy, and then I went to the shelves to get some masking tape. The masking tape space was empty. Hmmm.

I looked around the room. Nope.

I checked the cabinets. Nada.

I asked the other teachers, in case it was right in front of me and I’d missed it. We all looked around. No masking tape dispenser. I looked in the cabinets again. (Why do we do that?) The tape dispenser still wasn’t in a cabinet.

We looked in the rooms next to ours (which are not being used right now). You’ve probably guessed. No tape dispenser.

We love our tape dispenser. It’s such a grown-up thing to be able to do. Tearing one’s own tape (which is sometimes, as a kid is learning how, a very l-o-n-g piece of tape) is a wonderful fine-motor skill. And, because I usually have two or three different colors of tape in the cabinet, when we get to the end of one roll, we vote on our color choice for the next roll. Democracy at the preschool level. One Sunday, there were eight kids and the vote was a tie. Four for green to four for blue. No one was willing to change their vote, so I said, “Okay. We’ll try again next week,” and there was no masking tape in the dispenser. The next week, seven kids. Blue had more supporters and won the vote.

Which brings me back to the missing tape dispenser with the blue tape. I just figured that someone came looking for masking tape, borrowed it from the room, carried it someplace else where someone else, and maybe two or three someone elses, had taken turns using it, until no one really knew where it had come from. I felt like it would turn up.

Last Sunday, I needed to laminate some Bible verse words (kids were going to jump on them, and they really don’t last if they’re not laminated). I went to the resource room, turned on the laminating machine, and left it to warm up. A while later, I went back with my colorful words.

Our resource room–disinfecting wipes, scales (which are weighing a rather hefty two-hole punch), clip boards, the laminating machine, and TA-DAH!! the tape dispenser.

And, of course, it is the absolutely most logical place for an office quality tape dispenser to be. I’m imagining a bunch of people working together, and when they were finished and cleaning up, someone said, “I wonder where this belongs.” And someone else said, “It probably belongs in the resource room.” And, actually, somebody should buy one for the resource room. And maybe I should write my name on mine. I did, of course, return it to its place on the art shelves. I think in another couple of weeks, we’ll be ready for a vote for the next color.

Meanwhile, closer to home. Very close.

: To wrap up our July 4th week fun, Peter walked next door (on the curb, of course) to invite our neighbor to come and draw and paint with chalk.

: They worked and worked and worked and used up every bit of paint.

A few sprinkles of rain fell and they moved to the porch. They mixed colors of chalk paint and tried some pouring techniques, which, delightfully, means that you can walk in the chalk paint and make interesting shoe footprints. Some rain fell Sunday afternoon, but didn’t do much washing-away.

What is faith? It is the confident assurance that something we want is going to happen. It is the certainty that what we hope for is waiting for us, even though we cannot see it up ahead.

Hebrews 11:1 (The Living Bible)

I know I’m taking the serious words of faith and applying them to something as trivial as a misplaced tape dispenser. But the confidence I felt was similar. I was quite sure that the missing tape dispenser was indeed near and real and waiting to be found, just as I am confident that God’s eternal love holds me near.

Last Wednesday, a week ago, my mother-in-law, talking to an aide at the nursing home, said, “I’m leaving.” The aide asked where she was going. “Heaven,” she said, “to see my brother and sister and husband.” Early, early Saturday morning, she did. A bit of Hebrews 11:1.

She’s a Grand Old Flag, She’s a Good-Tasting Flag

July 5th, 2018 | Joy, Love, Patience

I try to continue the family tradition of having a Flag cake for Fourth of July celebrations. I keep trying out new ideas, often coming up with things which bear just a tiny bit of discernible American flag.

When I make a regular, full-sized cake, there’s lots of cake leftovers. To circumvent that, I thought maybe a rolled cake might give everyone a piece of flag-themed cake and a few extra pieces. And, I had an idea. Not necessarily a good idea, but an idea.

I thought I could bake a very shallow white layer and cut out star shapes from it. Then, I could put the white stars on a jelly roll pan and make a blue jelly roll batter to pour over the stars and then bake that. The resulting jelly roll cake would be blue with cute white stars, and then I could color some Cool Whip red and put red and white Cool Whip in the roll. Sounds easy, right?

I found a jelly roll recipe in my big cookbook. Then, I looked online for ideas, too. I found a recipe for a striped cake, that had a white cake batter divided into several different bowls and dyed into bright colors. Then, the instructions said to pipe diagonal stripes across a prepared baking pan. Baked and rolled around a filling and then sliced, it made a lively cake roll. And I thought, “Well, I could put the white stars down and pour blue batter over them, on half a pan, and then pipe red and white stripes down the other side, and then wouldn’t that be cute!” I also found a couple of YouTube videos which were even more informative. One baker showed how to make a template with shapes (she used hearts), which she put underneath a piece of waxed paper. She piped cute pink hearts of batter onto the template shapes, put the pan in the freezer, and, when the shapes were frozen, she removed the template, poured a chocolate batter over the hearts, baked it, and, ta-dah!! the cake had cute pink hearts baked into it.

Oh, yeah. I can do that!

I found some star outlines online, made a template, and mixed up a batch of batter. I made my white stars and put the pan in the freezer. It took FOREVER for them to freeze. I put the rest of the batter into the fridge. Several hours later, the star shapes were finally frozen. And by then, I should really have made a new batch of batter, but that seemed wasteful, and really, what difference would it make. (Lots, in case you wondered.) I colored half of the remaining batter blue, one fourth of the batter red, and left the other fourth white. I spread the blue batter across half the pan, over the stars; it was pretty thin. I tried piping red and white stripes across the other side. It was runny. I baked it all (and the pan was rather warped). It was a disaster, but the white stars showed up really well. I threw it all out. That was Wednesday.

Thursday, I watched the video again, and realized that the baker had made a separate, small batch of batter for the hearts. And froze that. So, I followed that recipe and made my white stars. And they froze up really quickly. Then, I used her cake batter recipe, too. The recipe said that flour could be substituted for the cocoa in the original recipe, if one didn’t want a chocolate cake. I did substitute flour, and colored all that batter blue (giving up on the idea of red and white stripes, opting for red and white Cool Whip instead). I followed the recipe carefully, poured the blue batter over the white stars, and put it in to bake. It looked all right after it had baked. The blue batter had gotten under the edges of the stars a little, but things seemed all right. I rolled up the baked cake (as instructed) and let it cool. Then, I unrolled it to get it ready to fill. The edges were a little stiff (which happens to those kinds of cakes) and, as suggested, I trimmed those edges off. I tasted those cut off edges and they were HORRIBLE. HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE. Dry, chewy (not in a good way), and just awful. So, for the second day in a row, I threw out a cake.

Friday, I made the small recipe, put white star shapes on waxed paper to freeze, and then made the original jelly roll cake recipe from the big cookbook, colored the batter blue, and poured it over the white stars. It baked up quite nicely, and, when I tasted the trimmed off edges, they tasted fine. The white stars show up great! After the rolled up cake had cooled, I unrolled it and got out the Cool Whip. Fortunately, I had had enough blue food coloring to tint all the batters I had made. I had used up some red coloring on Cake #1. I had a larger bottle of red coloring, but I chose a smaller, plastic container, thinking it looked like enough for the Cool Whip. I removed the RED lid from the container and squeezed a good amount into some of the Cool Whip. I began to stir it up, and, OllieMollieGollie!!! It was PURPLE! So, I had to dump that out!

Fortunately, there was that bottle of red coloring (which I carefully tried out on a small spoonful of Cool Whip first). So, finally after three days of trying to get a cake made, I finally had one.

As I dropped the large, very, very heavy trash bag into the big trash bin Friday afternoon, I was really sad and frustrated to realize that I had not photographed any of the epic cake fails. You’ll just have to imagine them on your own.

Here’s this year’s photo of Kevin and Jeremy in their “traditional” photo pose and you can also see what this year’s final (finally) cake looked like. We ate almost all of it up. As I write this, there’s one piece left in the fridge. By time you read this, it’ll be gone (I hope).

I’ve also mentioned another tradition, begun by my Ohio grandmother, when the strawberries ripened early in the summer. Strawberry shortcake for dinner.

My sister and I often make it these days, on July 4th. After all those lunchtime burgers and hot dogs and flag cake and ice cream, and whatever snacking might go on during the day, strawberry shortcake makes a nice evening meal. After the company arrived (Kevin and Jeremy and April and Peter), on Tuesday, I made my last trip to the grocery store and added a quart of strawberries to my cart. Wednesday, after cleaning up from the lunchtime meal, I washed and sliced the strawberries and added enough sugar “to make them weep” (my grandmother’s directive). Early evening (well, as it’s summertime, it’s more like late afternoon) I got out the new box of Bisquick to make the shortcakes.

: The newest incarnation of the Bisquick box does NOT include the shortbread recipe. But, on the side, there’s a photo and the phrase “Strawberry Shortcake” and instructions to visit Bisquick.com for additional recipes.

: I knew that I was running low on Cool Whip (after inadvertently coloring a big blob of it violet). I had spooned that violet blob back into the Cool Whip container and it made a very festive topping for the strawberry shortcakes.

Memorize his laws and tell them to your children over and over again. Talk about them all the time, whether you’re at home or walking along the road or going to bed at night, or getting up in the morning.

Deuteronomy 6:6-7 (Contemporary English Version)

How we behave as Kingdom people and lovers of the Lord is often wrapped up in the minutes and hours of ordinary days. How we behave on special days, like holidays and holy days, should be an exact reflection of our behavior on those ordinary days. We are the examples of God’s love and care. Or the lack of those things.

I’ve Heard that Nature Abhors a Vacuum*

June 14th, 2018 | Joy, Love, Patience

I worked in my yard the first couple of weeks in May. Then, I got sick. Not horribly. But, a cold that refused to run its course. Then, I had to prepare for, and teach, Fun with Friends. Peter was here, too, and went back to Fort Worth last Sunday. On Monday, I put on my gardening gloves and went to check things out.

: This is the photo from May, after I’d worked in the thyme garden, adding a couple of new varieties. Then I got sick.

: This is what the thyme garden looked like last Monday. That part in the lower right-hand corner all the way around to the newest plants (the Summer Thyme and Winter Thyme) were all over run with WEEDS!

: This is how it looks now. All orderly again. Those weeds do love an empty space.

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In the Backyard

May 24th, 2018 | Joy, Love, Patience, Peace

Summer’s truly here; the air conditioner’s been running regularly for a couple of weeks. I’ve done quite a bit of work in the yard, trying to get things done before the heat sets in. Things look pretty good. Of course, a garden is “a thing of beauty and a job forever,” which is a quote I have on a little plaque that sits on my garden bench.

Before we went to Tennessee in April, I carefully rearranged the potted plants on the patio into spaces around the yard, trying to be sure that they got the appropriate amount of sun or shade they each needed, and were placed where the sprinkler system would keep them hydrated. We were away almost two weeks, and when we pulled into the driveway, home again at last, I was taken aback at how awful the lawn looked. I went straight to the system’s controls in the garage and discovered, to my horror, that, while I had set the timer correctly, I had not actually turned the system on. EEEKKKK.

The patio plants all looked pretty poorly. The lavender looked dead (and it was). But, with some care, everything else came back fine.

: The caladiums looked particularly horrible–all limp with leaves lying on the dirt. But with some intense watering, they’ve rallied.

: I keep trying hostas and this year, these two came back (on the north, very shady, side of the house). They weathered the temporary drought. These two . . .

: and this one.

: Three new kinds of oregano in the herb garden by the patio

: The chives were badly overgrown. I thinned them out pretty dramatically, but they seem to be doing all right.

: I’ve given up on the fairy garden, and made this little dish garden instead. The squirrels don’t seem to be interested.

: This is the photo from May, after I’d worked in the thyme garden, adding a couple of new varieties. Then I got sick.

: I’ve had the green Coral Bells (on the left) for a few years. I like them because they’re winter hardy. I added some new varieties this year.

: The white (with a tinge of pink) bougainvilleas are blooming.

: This Bee Balm, described as “an aromatic perennial herb,” doesn’t seem to be very aromatic. But, it’s pretty and is growing well.

: This pineapple sage, which I’ve had for maybe ten years, is starting to bloom. The leaves really do smell just like a pineapple.

I’m excited to see the big, fat berries on the holly bush.

There will be pretty red berries for Christmas!

And, the crape myrtle tree has lost a branch!!

But the most interesting, and a little bewildering, thing that I discovered in my yard this spring—

I was out in the yard a couple of weeks ago, and, as I rounded the corner from the back yard to the side where the ferns grow, I looked down and saw . . . yes, a hot dog. I looked at it long and hard. It’s a hot dog.

I’ve not ever seen a dog, or dogs, roaming around the neighborhood. Every now and then I see a cat (or rather, what’s left of a bird in the yard). But, really, do cats eat hot dogs? Maybe. Anyway, I left it where it was and went on with my yardwork. Then, I went inside for some lunch.

When I went back outside, to work some more, I checked on the hot dog. As you can clearly see, the space was empty. Really? The hot dog noshing dog/cat/whatever was waiting, quietly, observantly, cautiously for me to leave. Then they returned and retrieved their lunch? Seriously? Do squirrels do that sort of thing? (And really, I wouldn’t put anything past a squirrel.)

Anyway, no other aberrant food items have been deposited in the yard, at least none that I’ve noticed. Rain poured down last Sunday; if I had a gully, it would have been washed out. I hope it’s not the last of the good rainfalls.

Shout praises to the Lord, everyone on this earth. Be joyful and sing as you come in to worship the Lord!You know the Lord is God!

He created us, and we belong to him; we are his people, the sheep in his pasture.

Be thankful and praise the Lord as you enter his temple. The Lord is good! His love and faithfulness will last forever.

Psalm 100 (Contemporary English Version)

It’s Remote

May 10th, 2018 | Joy, Patience, Peace

First of all, when we were in West Virginia, I put down my glasses (which are just readers, available at all sorts of stores). Someplace. On some table at some restaurant. Some shelf in a gift shop. Some counter at some museum. When I searched for them to be able to read something, they were nowhere to be found. My cousin said she had a pair of readers that were 2.50 that I could borrow. I used them the next day and they were just right. When we stopped to get gas that afternoon, I went inside the store that big gas stations have these days, and, sure enough, located a rack of glasses. I found a pair of 2.50’s and bought them. They were perfect. That was about two weeks ago.

Today, they broke. I guess that $9.95 is not quite enough to pay for a pair of reading glasses that one expects to last for any length of time.

So, this evening, I’m struggling along with a pair of real, prescription glasses that I got several years ago. They are bi-focals, and I really, really tried hard for several weeks. I just could not get the hang of them; whenever I looked toward the ground, to go down stairs or step off a curb, or up a curb, things were out of focus. I finally gave up and went back to the “readers.” I will say, though, that when you purchase your reading glasses at the dollar store, you are getting your money’s worth. Or, apparently, at the gas station, also.

This evening, then, to be able to see somewhat, I rustled up the old prescription glasses and that’s what I have on now. I also have a headache.

That’s just an explanation in case there are typos and bad punctuation, I am trying to hurry through this.

Remotes–

I’m talking about cars. When David’s car refused to leave the driveway, due to extreme old age, a few years ago, he got a new car. A new-to-us pre-owned car, that was only a year or so old. It’s a nice car with heated seats and electric seat controls (up/down, back/forth, reclining/upright). He drove it all the time, unless I was going to Fort Worth to get Peter, since I lobbied for the idea that the newer car should be the one on the highway. And, as soon as we got to town, he would move the car seat over to my car.

Until summer. I lobbied then for using his car for Peter’s and my adventures around town, particularly the zoo. We got a Grandparent Pass for the zoo, which opens up at 9:00 a.m. I said I needed his car for trips to the zoo because I could start the car remotely. One of the best features of a remote start is that, whatever climate control you’ve had the car set at, that’s what will come on when the car’s started. In August, it’s pretty warm, but not horrid until noonish or so. Peter and I would arrive at the zoo parking lot at 10 minutes or so before 9:00, in the hopes that we could get one of the very few parking spaces with some shade. We’d park, get out the stroller (Peter was two, and still content to ride through the zoo), get sun-screened, and be rolling up to the zoo entrance at 9:00. We’d be back at the little cafe at the zoo entrance at 11:00 or so, have a grilled cheese sandwich, and leave.

“If we’re in your car,” I said to David, “then I can start it remotely right when we leave. By time we get to the car, it won’t be really cool, but it won’t be so scorching hot.” (Even if there was shade when we got there, in those intervening hours, most of the shade had moved on.)

It was a hard argument to refute, so I got to drive Peter around in the “good” car. After we got that car paid off, we got another new car for me to drive. It’s not quite as nice (I have to move my seat manually) and it’s smaller. But, it was a brand-new car. With a remote start feature.

I find that really helpful. I can start the car and have it be at least a little bit cool (or warm) when I get to it. But, more importantly, I can find the car. It’s white (actually pearl), and looks very much like every other white/pearl car in the parking lots of the grocery store, the drug store, Target, Wal-Mart. I do know the letters on the license plate, which also helps. The problem, sometimes, is that I have driven up and down several rows at some of these places, looking for a nice, empty spot for the car. So, by time I shop for an hour or so, I’ve long forgotten exactly where I ended up parking the car.

Both car keys look exactly the same. I know which one is which by the *other* keys that are on each end, which does not at all keep me from sometimes using the wrong key/remote to start/open a car.

I have, on more than one occasion, walked confidently up to a white/pearl car, pointed my remote and punched, and the car did not start. Of course, it might be that I’m punching the buttons on David’s key, instead of mine. Or, more likely, I’m pointing and punching at the wrong car. Hmmmm. After checking the license, or, really, just the car itself, for example, is there a car seat in the back of the car I’m punching at? No? Then, it’s not my car, which does have a car seat in the back.

Once, in the Target parking lot, I aimed my key at a car, several spaces away from me, as I walked toward it. Off in the next row over, I heard a car start. And, yes indeed, that one was my car. It’s so helpful.

Hearing and seeing are gifts from the Lord.

Proverbs 20:12 (Contemporary English Version)

Although the exact date is in dispute, it is generally agreed upon that the first pair of corrective eyeglasses was invented in Italy sometime between 1268 and 1300. These were basically two reading stones (magnifying glasses) connected with a hinge balanced on the bridge of the nose. (Google)

Miraculous.