Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Camping Coming Up!!

Our whole family is going camping on the Turtle Flambeau Flowage for six days next week. Well, actually one daughter and her husband won't arrive at the landing until Wednesday. (And then there's the daughter and husband who live overseas as missionaries and can't be here.) Our campsite will hopefully be on an island. All the campsites on the TFF are "rustic". This means that we carry in our drinking water and our shelter and the toilet is an "open pit toilet". The only walls and roof over such a toilet is God's green cathedral so we take tarps to create a measure of privacy. We get our washing water out of the lake...don't worry we make it safe with a droplet of bleach and keep a very large stock pot of it on the fire all the time, so hot water is always available.

For those of you who think this would be too much like roughing it; we think it's fun and relaxing. We will have plenty of fishing, exploring, boating, and camp cooking. We take games, cameras, books, songbooks, and our journals along. We will sing, swim if it's warm enough, and talk late around the fire.

We'll update you after camping.




Monday, July 27, 2009

New Kitty 101

This picture hasn't anything to do with this posting, really. It's one of those foggy camping mornings last weekend, and yes, that's a ladder out there mounted on the boat. It's a diving ladder. The boys thought is was great fun to climb up there and jump off.

Last week a new kitty came to live with us. He's a little black half minx critter who runs like a rabbit. He spent the week yowling for attention. He is the precious possession of our fifteen year old daughter who found herself in for a 101 on baby tending...a sick baby as well. The kitty had a severe infestation of worms to just state the bald facts and treatment was a must. The girl was in tears off and on; while the cat was in tears most of the time. This mom felt really sorry for the girl and the cat; but I saw this was an opportunity for the girl to feel the weight of responsibility.
I saw her tirelessly researching for more information on how to help the kitty's poor distended tummy and tears. I saw her changing his bed, and bathing him, and feeding him over and over yet hating the idea of feeding those parasites. We tried Wal-mart's wimpy dewormer with no success. So finally after two days of more pain and grief I called my friend who lives on a farm and asked her what we should do for our kitty ( and my girl ultimately).
She recommended a vet they know who understands folks like us who don't believe that animals are people but we still like to take good care of them. In other words, we don't want to add the kitty care to our regular monthly bills. Nor do we care to have the humane society down our necks.
I was feeling a little harried by what all I had to do that day the morning this came to a head. I called the vet who offered to give us some good dewormer if I wanted to come get it. I did. Driving north through the woods around the curves and in a hurry, I switched on the radio. Beautiful, soothing and slow music was on, something called "Meditation"...just what I needed at the moment. Then a pickup pulled out in front of me and didn't speed up a whole lot. So there I was, suddenly slowed down to a meandering crawl through the woods in morning. God is good. I realized He was again proving to me that 'The earth is the Lords, and the fullness thereof'. He can arrange for slow-downs in my life and He can heal kitties, and grow up fifteen year old girls on any busy day. Praise the Lord.
BTW, the kitty is better and I won't go into detail on the healing process but it was a learning experience for all of us.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Camping Season Is Here

The men have all gone camping. We women of the household prepared the potato salad, made sure of the swimming trunks and towels, and packed up all their duds, including shoes and socks and jackets. We cleaned out the coolers for them, and told them where we had packed their soap and Bibles.
They're gone...it's quiet and tidy around here. The girls and I have the house all cleaned up and we can skip cooking and schedule for a day or two if we like. It's a relaxing prospect. We're going to have time to scrapbook, read, and visit with our friends. I have a Jan Karon book to read and my music. It's quiet enough to think long thoughts for a change.
This is nice...for a day or two; but I'm always glad to welcome them home again. Those guys who we try to please everyday are work but I would not want to live without them: dirty clothes, heavy boots, whiskers, deep reverberating voices and all. A husband and a grown son at home keep my world going round in a happy, busy circle.
From all of us women: Thank You, God, for the men who provide for and love us. Keep them close to You. Protect their eyes and hearts this weekend for Your sake. Amen.

Friday, July 10, 2009

The Art of Homemaking

Our kitchen window sill is deep because our house is a stone house and wide enough to double as a frig or a freezer in the winter depending on the weather. Yesterday I was industriously scrubbing away all the bugs, dried food, and spider webs when suddenly I just had to see what some new paint would look like on our precious window sill.

Soon Amy appeared with a whole can of paint from who knows where in the basement looking expectant and mysterious at the same time. "Where did this come from, Mom?!" It was a good question. " Hmmm...I don't know for sure, but it sure is green."

Green it was/is. So with my brush and canvas so to speak all ready to go, I began. "Yeah, it's green, " seeing the first strokes of my brush. It was fun... I mean it WAS green... but looking out through the window at God's green and mine...it was kinda nice. So I kept on. Frances came into the kitchen and said, "It makes the kitchen darker, Mom." I should take the hint, I know. But it was fun and different, really different, there isn't anything else in the whole house this particular color of green. ( That's good, too.) It didn't take long to have it done and partly dry and I was thinking of what would look good on all that green. The pottery pitcher of garden flowers was easy...anybody could see it looks great! "You need something pink, Mom." How do women without daughters know what's next?! So I dug out my two favorite old bowls I found at a garage sale last spring. Perfect. And next came Grandma's platters.

Lance came home and said. "Looks like the forties!" I heartily agreed, "Yes, it does, for a fact." Elv came home and said, "Lime green???" (Make that an ascending incredulous tone, please.)

But I kept looking at it and liking it...until after the sun went down. Okay, so it was a bad idea. Good for daylight and sunshine; but bad for evening, and terrible at night. And I can't very well stand there painting it back and forth from green to white every evening and from...oh, well, you get the point. Sigh!

It's going back to boring old white again, but now that I've had those antique bowls and platters in there, I'm going to have to invest in some plate stands and display them there. That's how homemaking is; you try this and that, but eventually you get it right. Remember, it has to look good both in daylight and dark, no matter what.
The people that I clean for over on the lake had this old rocker labeled 'to give away'. So when I got home I called them at their city home and asked them if I could be the receiver. First I am going to look at it for a few days/months or however long it may be; and next I will refinish it. I wonder...if any of you knows what's best to do with such a treasure. Please let me know, okay?
And then there's the basket. It was an ugly, old, ratty looking basket, but it's big and that's why I wanted it. It's big enough for magazines, games, lotion, pillow, books, you name it... it's big enough for once. Now it's red! Because I took it outside, stood back with a red spray paint can and covered it all up with red paint. As a result, it's not only big, it's nice.

I make a few mistake along the way with my art of homemaking, as I say, and my window sill painting is about the epitome of mistakes, ( I like it during the day, though) but now and then something turns out just about right...like a red basket.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Savor The Moments


I have just spent an hour talking with our oldest daughter who is in Thailand with her husband doing missionary work. She's been frustrated with their terribly busy life of teaching English, Bible studies at the Payap University, and helping out at IGO (Institute For Global Opportunities). She is six months along with their first, very much anticipated baby and is prone to tears and fears some days and marvelously fit and happy other days. While her husband has a lot of different responsibilities, they have the privilege of doing their missionary business (busy-ness) together most days.

As she was telling me all her heart...I was listening with all my heart...she concluded that I did not understand and what's the use of trying to tell me. And that is true enough... I don't understand a culture that considers it rude to ask who ones parents are and to show the bottom of your feet to anyone is equal to what we consider indecent exposure.

But I do understand what it is to begin to see the need for dependable routines in early marriage. After all the freedom and fun of nobody telling us what to do and when to do it there comes the chaos of too much of no routine. Let me explain.

I was reared in a home with strict unwavering, unvarying routine. You could have set your clocks by us. We lived on a forty cow dairy in Wisconsin and just the rigors of the weather changes behooved us to be timely as well as the cows having to be milked on time, every time The crops had to be planted and harvested not a week too late or too early. We got up the same time every morning seven days a week all year long to milk those cows and care for those crops. We also went to church three times a week no matter what was happening in life. So the cows told us when to come home while the church obligations told you when to be there.

After nineteen years of few breaks from the grind of routine; I was more than ready to eat breakfast at nine or not at all as I saw fit, and to go to bed when and if I felt like it. My husband was the world's most non conventional guy, as well. Other than going to work which he always took rather seriously; he also enjoyed the freedom of no one telling us when it was time to do what. You might say it was the perfect way to 'savor the moment'....for awhile.

Eventually though, after we had a couple little children in our house I started to wonder why Sundays, for instance, felt so hard to do. I would get to Monday feeling exhausted and troubled in my very soul. Finally I realized that at least some Sunday preparation had better be happening early in the week in order to achieve a happy Lord's Day. Routine was my answer...Mom was right after-all! We started to stick to a routine; not as rigid as what I grew up with, but a routine nonetheless. I found out that when I did "Saturday cleaning" that Sunday was much more enjoyable, especially since we could have company without being ashamed of our surroundings. I could even find the children's clothing and shoes on Sunday morning alleviating a whole lot of stress.

The other thing we discovered was that the "freedom" we thought we were enjoying was actually costing us precious moments of savoring the good things. We were so carelessly living along that the special times hardly seemed special.

I'd advise any young married woman whether she is a missionary or not, to adopt routines for work AND play and then will she learn to appreciate the special times as moments to savor.

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