Saturday, November 27, 2010

Ice-Skating

                Grandma's Picts 008

I have wonderful memories of ice-skating all my growing up years. We always had a puzzle to work in the evening after we had frozen our toes skating on the creek (pronounced krik) ice. I will never forget the return of feelings in my toes and the resulting pain. It is a wonder we did not damage them for life! However, by concentrating on the puzzle we could endure until they began to feel like huge, warm lumps instead of wooden, dead things on the fronts of our feet.

The creek was within sight of the house across the pasture. We would carry our skates to the edge of where Dad had plowed it with the tractor blade and sit in the snow to put them on. No wonder our feet got so cold… we started out snowy. Once everyone was out there on the ice it would give a couple of good solid cracks and settle underfoot which was momentarily paralyzing to us until we’d see how deep that crack really was and remember Dad saying, “Good ice will crack now and then.” (That probably goes for river ice, only.) “He did have the tractor out here, too,” we would say to each other, comfortingly, as we whizzed about making the first scratches on the ice.

Besides, Grandpa Skrivseth always claimed that two inches of good ice would hold a team of horses. Dad regarded that statement with raised eyebrows, but you did not openly challenge what Grandpa said. So we have never found out if it is true or not with no teams of horses available. Besides, in Wisconsin the ice does not stop freezing at two inches. You would be hard pressed to find two inches of ice once the temperature drops. On the creek, we go from open water to skating ice in just a few days.

I remember skating with our cousins from Hayward. I think back now how we must have looked out there. We girls wore our warmest dresses and tights and a sweater under our coats with scarves well wrapped around our heads and necks. We had homemade mittens dangling half the time by their strings out of our coat sleeves. That horrid crocheted string would dig into my neck harder and harder as my mittens became wetter and heavier with melting snow. We would slide and circle most of the time on the space that Dad had plowed and he was fairly generous so that we would have racing space and room to play tag if we liked. Eventually we would look beyond the snow bank and see a potential skating for miles down river (miles being a few more hundred yards or so). Once you crossed the bank you were skating in a few inches of snow and the cold came creeping in through our thin cowhide so we soon turned back. Those were the best skating times.  

However, times were changing. When I was in seventh grade, the school board created a small rink on the school grounds. Then we had to join the group games on skates or be satisfied with the bumpy edges. I did a little of both. There were always a few big boys who thought they had NASCAR skates so you just stayed out of danger’s way. They had enough power and speed for a whole football field of ice when all we had was a 500 square foot space at best. So those are not my best memories of skating although we all got pretty good on skates either from practice or out of sheer self-defense.  

Finally, there came the days of skating with the young people. At the age of 16, we were considered old enough to go out of an evening without parents and join the other young people skating either on the river or on a local farmer’s pond. It was well after dark until our respective farm chores were done so we would bring along an old tire or two and light it on fire for lights. For all you greenies out there, I am confident that the warmth and light we received from the burning tires and the discussions we had around them were more important than any damages we might have incurred on the old ozone layer. Those were the days! We would play the regular group games, too. Now and then, the NASCAR guys would push a puck around, but they had learned by now that if they wanted the girls on the ice, too, they would have to give us a little granny-skating space. So again, it became fun to go skating with everybody happily enjoying it.  

Now a days the children and youth like to use the public rinks to enjoy skating. I have to admit it is a lot less work to let others keep the skating rink maintained. But I am sure they do not have quite as much satisfaction and fun as we had.

The picture at the top is Elv and his dad, the late Herb Graber.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Christmas and The Family Tree

DSC00008 Isaiah, Zechariah, and Jeremiah prophesied that there would be a unique sprout on the family tree some day. It would come of David’s branch. In fact, He is referred to as The Branch.

Think about gardens and sprouts. Think especially of shrubbery. Gardeners know that sometimes a root decides to grow a sprout. Roses are especially good at that. You have been mowing and cultivating that spot around the roses for years and one day there is a sprout. Sprouts are beautiful. They tug at your heart, somehow. It seems like overnight you have this little baby plant with freshly unfurled leaves right there three feet away from the mother plant but a perfect little replica nonetheless. The Hebrew word branch in Isaiah’s prophecy means a green shoot or a sprout.

Maybe the gardeners in Jesus’ day were not nearly as mystified with His ministry and presence as the rest of the family seemed to be. A gardener with any experience at all who had been reading the scriptures probably had a pretty good idea who this young “upstart” was.

And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a Branch shall grow out of his roots: Isaiah 11:1,

And speak unto him, saying, Thus speaketh the LORD of hosts, saying, Behold the man whose name [is] The BRANCH; and he shall grow up out of his place, and he shall build the temple of the LORD: Even he shall build the temple of the LORD; and he shall bear the glory, and shall sit and rule upon his throne; and he shall be a priest upon his throne: and the counsel of peace shall be between them both. Zechariah 6:12,13.

For He shall grow up before Him as a tender plant, and as a root out of a dry ground: Isaiah 53:2a Isaiah meant here that He would bear fruit. Then Jesus grew up and explained to the disciples that He was the vine and we are the branches. He said that we would bear fruit when we abide in Him.

Finally, the apostle Paul said that we heathen Gentiles are grafted in if we believe and accept this whole business of a little sprout of David/Jesse. Now that is a subject for the apple man. We visited him one day and he told us how grafting is done. You have to have a root to get grafting accomplishe d even today in the apple tree world. The same thing happens in The Family Tree. That Root is the only reason we can be grafted in.

After I had written this I thought of the old German carol. It says what I am thinking perfectly. Again, notice the message of salvation.

Lo, How A Rose E’er Blooming

verses 1-2, 15th Century carol (Es ist ein Ros entsprungen)
translated from German to English by Theodore Baker, 1894
verses 3-4, Friedrich Layritz, translated by Harriet Reynolds Krauth, 1875
verse 5, translated or written by John C. Mattes, 1914

Lo, how a Rose e'er blooming from tender stem hath sprung!
Of Jesse's lineage coming, as those of old have sung.
It came, a floweret bright, amid the cold of winter,
When half spent was the night.

Isaiah 'twas foretold it, the Rose I have in mind;
With Mary we behold it, the virgin mother kind.
To show God's love aright, she bore to us a Savior,
When half spent was the night.

The shepherds heard the story proclaimed by angels bright,
How Christ, the Lord of glory was born on earth this night.
To Bethlehem they sped and in the manger they found Him,
As angel heralds said.

This Flower, whose fragrance tender with sweetness fills the air,
Dispels with glorious splendor the darkness everywhere;
True Man, yet very God, from sin and death He saves us,
And lightens every load.

O Savior, Child of Mary, Who felt our human woe,
O Savior, King of glory, Who dost our weakness know;
Bring us at length we pray, to the bright courts of heaven,
And to the endless day!

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Evening At Home

     DSC00008-2

   ‘By this time it was getting dark, and snowing pretty heavily; and as Scrooge and Spirit went along the streets, the brightness of the roaring fires in kitchens, parlours, and all sort of rooms, was wonderful. Here, the flickering of the blaze showed preparations for a cosy dinner, with hot plates, baking through and through before the fire, and deep red curtains, ready to be drawn to shut out cold and darkness.’  - Charles Dickens from A Christmas Carol

Can’t you just see this?…“hot plates, baking through and through before the fire”  paints a picture in my mind of thick glistening stoneware stacked and waiting to be filled with supper food.  And “deep red curtains” is quite cozy.

Tomorrow we are going to open the Christmas bins and boxes and bring forth the traditional decorations of our home.  We don’t have a tree…it’s not part of what we do for Christmas.  But there will be swags of pine, a wreath or two, candles, and a couple sets of manger scenes. The large red doily my mom crocheted will be here somewhere.

The Christmas times are here.  Frances, Amy, and I are singing It Came Upon A Midnight Clear this year. When you hear it sung, listen closely.  It’s a call to salvation for everyone. 

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men,
From heaven's all-gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains,
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds
The blessèd angels sing.

Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring;
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing.


And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!

For lo!, the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,                                                                                                                  When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song 
Which now the angels sing.

– Original five-stanza hymn by Edmund Sears

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Northwood’s Notoriety

Elv says, “You can forget trying to sell this house anytime soon.”  Well, we weren’t really trying to sell the house at present, but if we were, yes, we’d be obliged to give it up.  Nobody wants to take up residence in a neighborhood known for burglary and theft.

Maybe we don’t want to live here, either.  Did anyone ever think of that? Twenty-three years ago when we bought this place it was one little old house in a quiet village miles from any big city ( where crime is rife, right?).  In all those years we have never consistently locked our doors either at night or when we leave…until this summer. Until this summer when most of Elv’s valuables were stolen from his pick-up cab.  They took everything from his brief case to his binoculars.  You name what a man might have in his pick-up cab and they took it. We figure they took it for resale for money. And we weren’t the only ones.  Seems like the robbers have worked the whole area. It makes us feel vulnerable and helpless.

But for some reason, here we are. And here we shall be for who knows how long.  I suppose that Bill two doors away at the tavern feels pinned down, too, even though he took the situation into his own hands and defended his property and person with a gun the other night. I bet it hasn’t helped his feelings of helpless rage in the least. It’s not what I would do in his case, but I can see why he would do that.  Dean at the Log Cabin Store is certainly in sympathy with Bill.

I commented to Elv that when these things happen I feel guilty like it’s somehow our fault.  We must not be very salty! Elv said he had those feelings, too. But we can’t dwell on that. We’ve known for years that God wants us here, on the reservation. The reasons have seemed hard to find, though, until lately when our young people started the Children’s Ministry.  At least now it seems like we’re doing something.

In the end, we have decided that since God hasn’t ever even come close to answering our prayers about relocating that we are to be content here and to trust that He can take care of us no matter what crime happens around us.

I sure wonder sometimes, though, why Dru’s had to go clear over to Thailand to be missionaries when there’s enough mission work here to keep us all busy! :)

Sunday, November 21, 2010

My Thanksgivings

1. A Good Husband.  I realize more and more how valuable that is to me and not to be taken for granted. I don’t really need comparisons to know this, but this year I do make some comparisons having a friend in my life who doesn’t have the same testimony these days. Along with my thankfulness I make intercessions each day for her.

2. Children who love the Lord. God gets the glory for this, of course.

3. A church family who loves each other. It was just fun Friday to go shopping with my friends. These women know me and love me anyway. I am humbled and grateful for that.

4. For a warm house.  We must have the oldest house in town; but with a lot of hard work and the fulfillment of dreams we have a Northwood's cabin we love.

5. For health.  Health is a gift.  Whereas living and eating sensibly helps; the truth is, it’s a gift.  Being in good health spiritually is far more important.

6. For the precious grandbabies.  We had no idea how thrilling they would be to us.  It’s as if after all the happiness we already had stacked up; God came along and poured on one more big blessing, smiling down on us like a Father adding toppings to the ice cream.

                DSC00004  I dare you to touch me!           DSC00006-3

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Light Bills and Laundry

 

We have a “light bill” at our house.  That’s what we call the bill for using the freezer, fridge, toaster, washer, the computers, and, of course, the lights.  I missed numerous plug-in stuff, I’m sure. We have never had a very low light bill.  For some reason, we have to make a special effort to keep that bill below a hundred dollars.  I have friends who use the dryer year around and claim that it makes no difference on the bill.  Well, it does on our bill.  So until the ground is positively covered in heaps of snow and the sun isn’t shining I hang the laundry outside.  On days when there is heaps of snow and the sun IS shining I will occasionally hang them out there. 

We had our electric hot water heater in tandem with the boiler system; so in winter when the boiler was up and heating the house it was also giving us “free” hot water.  In summer the electricity heated our water.  This summer the bill was hiking drastically.  It was rather horrifying to Elv who works very hard every day to make enough money to pay those bills not to mention feed and clothe us and have anything to give like it says there in the scriptures.  So he went downstairs and investigated. It seems we were heating water and dumping some of it onto the floor. No wonder that bill was high!

The jig was up with that old system immediately. Next thing I knew we were re-plumbing the whole system and adding in an inline gas water heater.  I am SO amazed.  Do you know how much space an inline water heater takes up?  It’s about the size of a large shoe box hanging on the wall! That’s it!  So now all those humongous tanks were obsolete!  

Out they went!  In that space is a sizable storage closet that has never before existed.  Amazing! And the bill?  Well I won’t even tell you how much difference it has made.  It would be too embarrassing.

But back to the laundry.  I have discovered that since we heat with wood stoves indoors, I can dry a lot of laundry on hangers and drying racks.  And no we don’t have our living spaces all taken up in drying clothing constantly!  The one stove downstairs is plenty of warmth and the resulting dry air to keep up with our laundry drying.

All this to say that we enjoy our efforts to not be too grid dependant. It’s fun to beat the system somehow and know that if the snow or wind takes out the power; we can still cook and stay warm.  Now to get that cookstove in!

Sunday, November 14, 2010

The Tiny Girls At Church

DSC00005-2

I took my camera to church this morning and took this picture of the little women in church.  Just moments before I got this one the little lady on the left had greeted the little lady on the right with a sweet hug. Obviously she is watching the mommies in church greeting each other. “More is caught than taught” they say.

Have a good week, you busy moms, and remember that you’re raising up little women for God.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

“The Fire Is Nice This Morning”

That’s what Elv and I say to each other on good mornings. It means that the fire in the stove IS nice, mostly likely.  But it also means that the atmosphere in our little world is nice at this moment, too.  That the coffee is good might mean that it’s just right, that the pot was clean to start with, the beans were fresh, and the grinding done just so; or it might mean that we expect to enjoy the work ahead of us for the day. These are our ways of saying, “God’s in His Heaven; all’s right with the world.” !

Of course, along with good coffee and a nice fire is that fact that we’re giving the best part of the day to each other sitting together by the fire and to God with our Bibles in our laps. It’s all about grace for the day that He is giving us. We never know what’s going to be in our day; but when we’ve had a good morning; the hard parts are doable.

The year's at the spring,
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in his Heaven -
All's right with the world!

                                     by Robert Browning

PS: I know it’s not spring right now.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Wait…Can We Stop For A Minute?

 

A I just need a minute to catch my breath.  How did we get down to two school children? when we used to have at least five?  The two school children we do have need almost no coaching…they ask for me to give them their spelling words and minimal math help.

A Frances is not old enough to go to Bible School! Yet she left this morning with a van load of youth going to Bible school.

A November already?  Thanksgiving…maybe some snow…then Christmas.  Okay, one day at a time.

    E

 

 

 

Monday, November 1, 2010

Words Matter

I like words. I am fascinated with the etymology (how they came to be) of words. I think it’s neat that NASA and other scientists can create new words for their creations. Every year there are new words added to our language due to changes in technology.

I don’t appreciate the fact that perfectly innocent words can be taken from us and changed into something you would NOT say anymore. This is etymology too, but not the good kind. No longer would you refer to a carefree innocent child running through a field of flowers as happy and gay. Now that is a sad loss of a lovely little word. But it’s gone, I suppose, for good. I don’t think that even righteously claiming that “to the pure all things are pure” is going to give you license to use the term freely anymore. It’s too bad, really.

Back to the fun part of words, though. Why is it when we sing that song Oh, It Is Wonderful do we say, “inexpressibly sweet”? But when we turn the verb express into an adjective we say expressive? Why do we use a b in one word and a v in the other? I suppose there’s a rule and I should know it; but I don’t. I just notice and it looks inconsistent to me yet I enjoy it. I wonder how much of our language is the way it is because we like how it sounds and we don’t give two hoots about rules. We end up adding “exceptions” because we just like it better that way.

Then there are family words. These are words that get created for whatever reason and come into common use among family members. One of our girls coined the word sopolloro. It means Pharisee-ism mostly with our own little twist which I don’t think I’ll be able to explain to you. But the children’s spouses are catching on to what we mean as we use it now and then. I suppose your family has a few words too, that nobody else gets. We have had discussions on how that word should be spelled, but the creator thereof insists that it is the way I have spelled it here. I don’t suppose that it will ever be listed in the Oxford Unabridged Dictionary; but, no matter, it works for us.

Words matter. They can hurt or heal depending on how we use them. My downfall with words is using them to express an opinion only to hear myself being “quoted” to sound rather heartless and unkind when my intent was not that strong. I must always keep in mind that I don’t have control over what happens to my words once they leave my mouth. Saying words is only half the equation. I can’t really make you hear them just as I wish. 

May our lives be such that our words are pure enough to bless our hearers hearts, always.

This blog has moved!

Please click here to see the latest from Stone House Scribblings.