All posts by Jeanie

About Jeanie

Wholehearted living somewhere in the middle of all my years. Aging parents, grown kids, and grandbebes everywhere! Married to my love and lifelong best friend, Dave for 33 years now. We raised 5 kids and lived to tell about it. My life's mission is to declare the great faithfulness of God to the next generations, especially those in mi familia!

Thought Collage Thursday // Mix Tape

Love is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time by Rob Sheffield

I am enthused about a book right now.

rob sheffield every tape tells a story

The Back Cover:

Mix tapes: Stick one into a deck and you’re  transported to another time in your life. For Rob Sheffield, author of Turn Around Bright Eyes that time was one of miraculous love and unbearable grief. A time that spanned seven years, it started when he met the girl of his dreams, and ended when he watched her die in his arms.

Using the listings of fifteen of his favorite mix tapes, Rob shows that the power of music to build a bridge between people is stronger than death. You’ll read these words, perhaps surprisingly, with joy in your heart and a song in your head—the one that comes to mind when you think of the love of your life.

You can’t get the book at the library right now. Because some one else has it.  ;)

He is a lots-of-fun-words {funnier observations} kind of writer, so highly quotable.  I melted to the floor when I saw that he used “epiphanic” twice (so far, I am not done reading yet) because no one I know {except me, see here in 2010 and here in 2008} uses that word (is it a word? WordPress does not think so…) and I was SO happy. I mean – I am a blogging-Nonna, a plain ol’ person. He is a BEST-SELLING AUTHOR! And we used the same word. Yeah-I am getting carried away.

But suffice it to say I love his words and the way he stacks them and strings them and draws me right into sound of the life he describes. And his words about music and song, emotion and relationship, and just life, really – ohmygoodness! LOVE.

Some of the mixes he shares, I am like, “Oh yes – best music ever.” Others, I have no idea and nor would I, as, whilst he was living and listening and loving it, I was this very serious pastor’s wife with very small children’s whose ears would had to have been covered to listen to it. A lot of 90s rock, alternative, f-word stuff.  But, ya know. Still loving the story!

rob sheffield i'm a mix tape

One Amazon reviewer  of this book spoke of people who had never made a mix tape for some one, people for whom music is just background noise. He referenced them as  people having no soul. I am inclined to agree.

So, if you love songs, if there is a tune for every person, place or thing in your life, nearby or loosely associated, a melodic memory groove in any way, shape or form and if you have indeed made or been the recipient of a mix tape: READ Rob Sheffield’s book!!!

rob sheffield when we die

Moo.com

I wish I could have these very business cards.  They are at Moo.com and are a variety of cassette images on one side, and the back is fashioned to look just like the enclosure card! They call them, “I made you a mix tape.” LOVE!

I wish I were a singer or managing singers or some wildly important industry-type or something fabulous like that so having these would totally make sense! I. Love. Them!

i made you a mixtape moo.com

~~~~~~~~~

Answer: Because a song stays with you, cutting a path to remembrance  deep in your heart and soul in a way you will never forget.

[Hum Jeopardy song here…]

Question: Why did God communicate His very important message to the children of Israel through Moses and Aaron by song?

Deuteronomy 32 //  Moses…spoke all the words of this song in the hearing of the people. When Moses finished reciting all these words to all Israel, he said to them, “Take to heart all the words I have solemnly declared to you this day…They are not just idle words for you—they are your life.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Would you even be surprised to know…

  • That I have cassette-tape gift wrap on hand for special occasions?
  • That I still make mix tapes all the time via Youtube and Spotify??? It is so much easier now to go to YouTube and make a playlist of Patridge Family songs {don’t judge me} or even a Motown mix, or Billie Holiday. As kids, making a mix tape meant listening to the radio and waiting until you heard the song you loved coming on, then pushing record as fast as possible. It also meant that if your mom came in and said to clean your room while you were recording – you’d forever hear that, too.
  • That 1974 is one of my all-time favorite years for music (because I was in love with love and love runs as a certain theme through the top 100 that year, as it does most years) and coincidentally is the same year I got my first cassette recorder? Oh. blessed cassettes, how I loved thee. Before that, I was using a miniature reel-to-reel. Yes, they had those in the olden days.
  • That I have an entire folder in my laptop pictures file devoted to images of old cassettes and that I have 32 drafts of songs I plan to write about on this very blog and have used said images for those posts?

bill withers

Probably not a bit surprised, are you? Reading this Rob Sheffield book has just confirmed to me that my zealous love of song and ability to recall every detail of the circumstance during which the song became important to my very existence is, well, maybe not normal, but certainly…acceptable.

And now, of course, I just put together a little mixed tape for you. I call it 1974, which was a very good year!

I am sure I will add to it, but for now, it has 53 songs for a nice 3 hour and 9 minute listening experience.

What? You don’t have Spotify yet? RUN, don’t walk – go get it. It’s like having all of iTunes available to you – for FREE!

#tbt Throw back Thursday

Me (and my little brother, Tim) in 1974, of course.

Tim and me in 1974
Worship Leading-also a mix tape

And while we’re on the topic – it occurs to me that putting together a worship set for a Sunday morning service is sort of putting together a mix tape experience, right? A little Matt Redman, a little Chris Tomlin, some Hillsong and a good dose of Jesus Culture. Bam!

And what the heck – family is a mix-tape, too, right?

If, as Wikipedia describes it, a mix tape is a name given to a compilation of songs recorded onto any audio format, then, I count my family. They are my song of life and they are most certainly an audio-audible, boisterously loud-with-the-sounds-of-living lovely recording.

mi familia - easter

Yes, if love is a mix tape, then family is a mix tape, too and the titles and artists are as follows: my Dave;Tara and Dp, Hunter and Malakai; Stephanie and Tris, Gavin, Guini and Gemma May; Tredessa and Ryan and baby Evangeline; Rocky and Jovan, Averi, Amelie Belle and baby Bailey; Stormie; my parents, my siblings, my nieces and nephews and aunts and uncles and grandparents and  great-nieces and great-nephews and all the people I came from and all those who are still to be –  we are a pretty amazing mix, I think.  :)

It’s Thursday. I love Thursdays.

Estes Park at Lori's off the deck

I will be exactly where this picture was taken, oh yes!

We have made it people – the pool is up for the season and another weekend is in sight! I shall be in Estes Park for three days with some of the most fantastically beautiful women on the planet (5 friends, 1 niece, 2 great-nieces and a sister-in-law). I hope I soak in a little bit of each them and come home a more wonderful person than ever. It could happen.  :)

Seen on Pinterest

And very good advice. You are enough. Not just because I say so – but because God made you so uniquely, wonderfully, creatively and awesomely in His very image. That HAS to be good. So, kick insecurity to the curb!

insecurity

Happy Thursday, everybody!

 

 

Gavin hits the double-ones

Oh, Gavinators-

gav playing piano

Gavin turned 11. He also just got his 6th grade schedule, a different teacher for each subject – a middle-schooler. He has this big, authentic smile, a shock of the most amazing red hair, a sprinkling of freckles and an emerging sense of humor. He erupts into giggles over things I didn’t know he would get and it doubles my joy, triples my fun, quadruples my absolute love for him, this all-American boy.

He was my first grandbebe, my first oh-good-grief-I-am-undone feeling. I never thought I’d be one of “those” grandmothers – effusing and gushing, feverishly, wild-eyed in-love with some small child not even my own.

gav skateboarding in denver

I mean – I loved my little munchkins, the five children I birthed. I thought they were just unusually talented and amazing and they brought Dave and I so much joy. Then they grew up and they became the people I most admire in this world. But I wasn’t really mentally expecting grandparenting to be that big of a deal.

But then Gavin arrived and – GEEZ-LOUISE!!! He was breathtaking. He was astonishingly beautiful (well, he has beautiful parents, so…), a magnificent tiny being, so impressively smart from the start and his smiles thrilling beyond belief. He .changed. everything . with his bright eyes and full-of-wonder curiosity. He really did. He altered my identity by adding this whole new generational dimension and infused our familia with new wonder and excitement.

gav his harry potter birthday cake

The Harry Potter I made for him for his 11th birthday

Gavin-L-K // YOU are amazing!

So, of course, I MUST bless your life and thank God for you. I must tell you that I speak words of blessing over you and I speak kindness and good wishes over your life because I love you deeply and want it to go well with you. I want you blessed in the city and in the country and I want all you put your hands to and all the things you attempt to do and to be to prosper and be over-the-top successful.

I pray for you to be strong, not just physically, but in your heart and mind and to be a young man of courage and conviction – to stand up for holy things and protect people around you who can’t protect themselves. I pray you will right wrongs and be a generous giver to people in need.

So I share this scripture with you on the occasion of your 11th birthday and I like it because it was originally delivered to a regular man named Gideon who was just working hard threshing some wheat in a winepress. I am not sure what that means exactly, but I know God’s people were in trouble and they needed a leader, a Judge – some one to help them battle out of the oppression they were living in, some one to answer their cries for help. And here was Gideon just doing what was right, day in and day out. And because Gideon was faithful when no one was watching (except God), He chose Gideon to lead the armies, to save His people.

I can see you as a Gideon…And so the angel appeared with God’s message to Gideon, and I speak it to you, over you,

“The LORD is with you, mighty warrior.” Judges 6.13

Really, Gavin, you can do anything. You will be amazing in your life. The sky is the limit, my Gav – if love is the fuel that powers your plane, then between God and your parents and your Gramps and me, your plane will fly to infinity and beyond and never come down.

gav and the tomato

He loves to garden and eat tomatoes as much as me. The kid is a genius, I tell you!

I cannot remember life before you-

In all the world, no matter what happens, my heart for you will always and ever be partially, at least, pinned to your sleeve, hanging on for dear life – never letting you go. I am so pleased with the person you are, so proud of the young man you are becoming, so excited to know the blessing of God on you because you are such a parent-honoring kid! I just think you’re pretty cool.

Small Size (5)

Hoping all your wishes come true on your 11th birthday and the whole year through! I love YOU!  {nonna}

NOTE: All photos by his mom, whose beautiful work can be seen at MayDae.com

Music on a Monday // Summer Songs {a really short playlist}

Ahhhhhhhh…perfection.

It’s June 2 and it’s like some one finally flipped the switch. Now THIS is summer in Colorado, nothing like it.

Good-bye freak snowstorm on Mother’s Day. Farewell muggy days and humidity in the 60-some-percent-range. Good-bye freezing cold nights and overcast days.

Hello, blue skies and Colorado sun!

Can’t help but think happy songs on a day like this. So, here is a short, but sweet and very summer-y playlist from my Spotify! You’re welcome.

Uhhh, yes. It is a little retro. It is me, after all. Songs by The Partridge Family, Seals and Croft, Chicago, Mungo Jerry, and a duet by Olivia Newton-John and John Travolta.

I had no idea Oliver Wendell Homes had this in him:

“Take a music bath once or twice a week for a few seasons. You will find it is to the soul what a water bath is to the body.”   -Oliver Wendell Holmes

sunny days ahead

GemGem is 7!

Oh, my Gemma-Loo, how I love you!

gemma bday

Her mommy is a fantastic photographer and I fall in love with the photos she gets of my grandbebes (her children and nieces and nephews)  :)

Our lively, darling grandbebe #4, Gemma May just turned 7 a few days back. She is silly and giggly and has this amazing cascade of red hair that just knocks you out. She dances, she acts, she smiles with her eyes, and she wears glasses now.

I can wrap my arms around her two or three times, wisp of a thing she is. But what I love most is the delightful, insightful, thoughtful conversation. The dancing light behind her eyes when we talk, behind those super-cool specs, sets a soft breeze in motion. Gemma May is more sugar than spice, she is sweetness and demure. She’s the girl next door and a little exotic, too.

I love this little girl like there is no tomorrow!

gemma and her cake

This is the cake I did for Gemma. A ballerina. In Gemma’s very proportions, give or take a centimeter!  :)

So, Gemma-Roo/Gemma-Loo, let me just tell YOU:

I bless the day you were born, the beautiful-beautiful May day you came along with that perfect round, soft-as-silk head and the sweetness of that button nose and those little pink lips from which so many laughs have escaped since. I bless the days of your life, all of them, as you grew and downy-soft red hair started curling every which direction and you could barely talk, but you could sing songs from Annie and do the dances with gusto!

I bless the days of pre-school and coloring and cheering every time you did something wonderful, which was every 8.4 seconds and pattering around in your galoshes with an umbrella in the rain and singing, oh-so-much singing.

I bless your life and I bless your heart and I bless your dreams and your wishes and your gifts and talents and I bless your place in this world. You know why? Because I love you and I can. I am your Nonna and I get to speak a blessing over you that they actually hear in the halls of heaven!

So I am agreeing with God’s plan for you, with His total delight in your life – and all the things He planned for you when He created you for us. Everything God wants for you and all the things Jesus is saying about you when He intercedes for you, I am shaking my head YES-yes-yes! And may the angels attend to you, and keep you safe!

And Gemma? Even though I never-ever-ever want your heart to be broken in any way for any reason, I do pray your heart will always be flesh and blood and that you will feel the intensity of living with all the sensitivity you now possess and that in spite of anything life throws at you, you’ll keep feeling and risking love and refuse to have a heart of stone.

For you are beautiful and your thoughts and feelings are precious beyond words. And oh, my sweet, your Nonna loves you. You are, as your name indicates, a jewel, a rare treasure.

And now, here is a promise for you, from the God of good promises:

“On that day the Lord their God will rescue his people,
just as a shepherd rescues his sheep.
They will sparkle in his land
like jewels in a crown.”  Zechariah 9.16 NLT

Of course, the grand-girls are always actually interpreting songs from Frozen these days, but I didn’t leave that music in because YouTube would poo-poo it. Imagine the Frozen soundtrack, though.

I love celebrating you and your birth~day, week, month. Happiness and love, darling Gemma!

Thought-Collage Thursday // “Some one’s peeking”

Let’s start with #TBT today. Stormie at age 2 {1988}

Here we thought our little baby girl was so cute wrangling the words to the romantic 80s hit “Somewhere Out There.” It is now, in the reviewing some 20+ years later I can see she was interpreting it quite differently.  She smiles and sings a long, but little Stormie was a obviously (well, obviously now concerned that some one was “out there” peeking at her.

Poor baby girl. I just “captured” this with my phone from TV, so it’s a little hard to hear, but if you’ll note – Rocky is tormenting his big sisters in the background, yelling his head off while his daddy was singing with Stormie and his mommy was entertaining guests downstairs.   Ornery little cuss.  :)

Speaking of peeking…

Amelie Belle 2nd breakfast

Amelie came for pre-school and we had “second breakfast,” a long-running tradition for the grands when they school here. We just really cannot be expected to start working hard with some coffee (hot chocolate) and toast.

Kai was staying with us while his parents were trotting about in Pa-Reeeeh {Paris} so Poppa was feeding him at the counter.

Amelie started to giggle. I looked up to see this:

kai's eyes

He is wondering when he can begin pre-schooling I just know it, and “BTW-where is my coffee?”  I am sure that’s what he is trying to say. You can see that in his eyes, right?

He also didn’t think there was that much to laugh about.

kai at breakfast

I fixed this amazing salad for two different shindigs in one week – because YUM! Because it is DELISH!

sugar and grace dot com kae and brussels sprouts salad

And super healthy. I did use sweet onion instead of shallots and doubled the bacon (the actual  pork-type, rather than turkey) just because. I love bacon. Oh, and at my daughter’s suggestion of golden raisins (which I did not have), I added some Craisins to the second batch – a little bit of sweetness. It was just another tasty component to  this deep green, tangy, crunchy eats-like-a-meal salad!

I also used the slicer blade on the food processor to make quick work of the Brussels Sprouts.

You may find the extraordinary recipe {CLICK HERE}. Looks like lots of other wonderful recipes are there, too with really pretty pictures!

My new garden girl.

She likes to play games that involve counting marshmallow “teeth” and she loves plunking seedlings into the ground. Moss Roses were first on her agenda. I cannot wait to see her reaction to blooms. When it gets hot and dry those things will spread like weeds!

Maelie playing the tooth game

amelie in the garden

I saw this on Pinterest.

excessively strong

I feel the same, like my attachments are excessively strong.  I love my loves deeply.

The grand-boys, all three, were my weekend dates! Plus Dave.  :)

us and the grand boys

 Isn’t time with a good friend just like a fresh rain for the garden?

We just mowed the lawn 4 days ago, but these daily afternoon rains, the kind that wet everything deep, are just creating a lush carpet of green. Spring green – there is just nothing like it. It is like new birth and renewal and loveliness and health and vitality.

Time with a good friend does that for the soul. You leave feeling younger and renewed and refreshed and loved and you thrive like spring-green grass. Especially if you had really good Mexican food.

Need to make that happen more often!

You have almost made it to the weekend!

earbuds

Somewhere out there
Beneath the pale moonlight
Someone’s thinking of me
And loving me tonight

Somewhere out there
Someone’s saying a prayer
That we’ll find one another
In that big somewhere out there

Hopefully, there is just some one somewhere loving you and not just peeking  at you or being weird about it at all! Hope your Thursday is amazing, and remember:

“Your smile can save a distressed soul, gladden a sad heart, or heal a broken spirit.”  Go get ’em!

 

My Stephanie, on the day we celebrate your birth

“So we all love a wild girl keeping a hold

On a dream she wants.”    ~Carl Sandberg

stephanie is february

Oh, Stephanie, Happy Birthday…I am thinking of the day you came and all the days you have changed our lives…

I was browsing through your baby book and 1st year calendar, neither of which I kept well at all, I am sad to say.  But I saw enough to stir intoxicating memories of really treasured times in the early 80s with a little girl who won my heart as I reached through the small opening in your “incubator” and you wrapped your tiny fingers around my pinky.

Everything about your impending birth, from the life-and-church filled, busy days leading up to your almost 6-week early arrival to the months that followed were just amazing light-filled, Technicolor, fun, happy, frazzled and most cherished days.

You were born to one big sister and some young, energetic, wildly-in-love parents who were over the moon about every single part of the pregnancy and expectancy of you. Our Thursday night birth classes were highly romantic date nights to us. We’d drive home in a buzz, planning and dreaming, the radio playing Chicago or Air Supply!

It’s odd to think that when you were born, boy or girl? was still a surprise! That, coupled with your early arrival {which was a real surprise}, left us pretty unprepared for what was happening.  We thought maybe we’d have a boy and name you after your dad, or maybe name you Christopher Michael, or Tristan (yes, “Tristan” was a name on the short list).

So when the administrator came to ask your name, we were a bit befuddled.  We hadn’t much time to choose and so your name came, heaven-sent, I think now.

So it was Stephanie (“crowned one,” “victorious crown,” “crowned in victory”). Stephanie May (for the merry-merry month in which you so delightfully arrived). And from that moment, we were a household of children, multiples of babies and little girls and dolls and stuffed animals and chatter {oh, the chatter} and heart-warming conversations. You started a party, you and your sister, that was so much fun we could barely call a halt. stephanie fall 13

But you were so tiny, your lungs undeveloped…

And when I was too stupid to even understand how very grave the situation surrounding your entry was, when I should have insisted on going to Indianapolis in the life-ambulance with you back in the days before they knew what damage might be caused by ripping a baby from her  mommy minutes after birth and saying, “Stay put,” I am so glad God gave you to me and kept you safe.

I am so grateful there was no distance ever in my heart from my tiny, tiny girl-baby, with me at Howard Community in Kokomo, you at James Whitcomb Riley Children’s Hospital in Indianapolis. I promise you, Stephie, I got there as fast as I could. My heart was beating with yours, my love never once let you go. There was much we didn’t know back then, but I know God went with you and He held you until I could.

It was years before I realized, after reading preemie studies, that as much as my empty arms were missing you in those first hours and days, as much as my longing was breaking my heart, you had to be wondering where I’d gone, too – the sound of my heart and my blood pulsing nearby… I am so glad they understand these things better now.

But you were always passionately burned into my heart and soul. I fought my first bloody battle with the enemy for you. For this child I prayed… I hope your tiny little center-of-being somehow knew it was so.

It was all a whirlwind after that. God healed your lungs – poof – breath of life into them.  You thrived, you developed, you healed so quickly it surprised the medical teams. But no wonder there: you were anticipated, received, welcomed, adored, sung to, kissed, snuggled and loved, all 4 pounds, 8 ounces of the baby we brought home just 12 days after being told it would be “months.” steph and tris xo Like a movie scene going fast forward on the DVR, I remember a wisp of a baby girl in a yellow carrier/car seat (so dangerous by todays standards I can’t even find a picture of one on Google). I can see a very small baby girl whose eyes would search the room, taking in details, cheeks full and kissable. A little night owl she was, from her earliest days. Like her daddy.

Mixed up days and nights, tiny appetite, staying tiny, wearing doll dresses…

The baby girl “catches” up to growth statistics at one and becomes a toddler in a teal-blue Martha Miniature dress, and at once her humor is notable, her conversations with Sunday School teachers get replayed for the awwwww-factor.

She giggles and sings. Oh my goodness, the singing! She falls asleep with a song and wakes up in melody…

Her hair, like silk, grows thick and shiny, her rosy cheeks and pink lips the stuff Hollywood pays big money to obtain. Laughter and utter hilarity reign nightly in the yellow room of three sisters on Armstrong Street. She chases and teases her big sister. Soon she is leading younger siblings about, teaching them everything she knows (which is a lot).

And there is a gentleness behind her eyes, a knowing, something deep taking place in the middle of a big, noisy familia.

She goes to school and becomes a thoughtful friend, a bright student, a girl who cares for issues and the earth and animals and other’s hearts and feelings.  People comment, “Stephanie is special,” I swell inside. “Stephanie is a rainbow, a multi-faceted, colorful girl.” “Oh, look at her,” I often heard when sharing photographs, “she is just beautiful.”

Years speed by and she is smack-dab in the middle of silliness and mayhem, but also close and soft-hearted {mystically sweet}, a hand-holder.

Her hair gets curly at puberty, just like her mommie’s  did and her humor becomes sharper, her wit more keenly developed. And while traditional, public school methods (not to mention home school) could not capture her brightest shine or contain her unique genius, it also could not dull the quantum creativity, the kaleidoscope of sparkling treasure and color emanating from her brilliant, astute and observant mind.

Girl becomes beauty becomes alluring becomes woman becomes Tristan’s fascinating wife and then a mommy herself.

steph with gemma And even still, Stephanie {my second-born and much-beloved daughter}, so accomplished and courageous, so influential and efficacious, stands at the youthful brink, just hitting her stride, just beginning to be all and do all she will, all for which she was created and healed to be and do.

Because the breath of life is so wholly, fully strong in her, the healing so complete – she will create Gardens of Edens, and place brilliant stars in night skies and build cities of ideas with long-awaited answers to mysteries. She will and she has and she is, already.

Oh my goodness, Stephanie. You are an amazing spring of crystal clarity and rich depth mixed with unstoppable determination. I sensed from the time you were very small that you thought deeply and felt keenly and understood beyond your years. You’re surely one of the smartest, most intelligent people I have ever met.steph and kids

And so I bless you, I bless your life…

I recognize and publicly receive the full beauty of God’s work in you, in your heart and life and teaching and leading and creating and informing and helping people. You were formed perfectly with great purpose and I just concur with the God of the Universe that what He has seen and planned and prepared for you is good and far-reaching. I recognize His iconoclastic call on you (to change the landscape for the better), His stamp of extreme approval and His delight in you and I thank Him for trusting me to be your mommy, then your mom, then a woman who admires and loves you deeply.

Like anyone else who is ever near you for even the shortest time, I have learned so much from you, received your grace and forgiveness so many times and been the joyful recipient of your humor and creativity, your thoughtful gifts {you’ve been especially gifted to give good gifts} and wealth of insight and knowledge on the world in general. I am so grateful to get to be near these things.

And so I bless you back and pray that all you have given comes back to you by the armfuls. I pray that the result of you helping hundreds, if not thousands of people toward renewed health returns to you in supernatural vitality and God-given strength (May the same power that raised Christ Jesus from the dead quicken and strengthen your mortal body, just as it did when you were born). I pray increased love and joy in your heart, total peace and  all the wisdom you need, when you need it. I pray you’ll prosper and find success in every area you put your hand to and continued favor from the God who sees.

Of all the things I ever gotten to be part of, of all the days God planned for me, of all the people in the universe to get to know, getting to be your mommy and know you now are the best things I can think of, more than I ever would have hoped or dreamed.

I love you, honey. Happy Birthday.

 

The Snap-Dragons and the Chamomile

A weed is just a plant that is growing where it isn’t valued. Or growing in the super-healthy-I’m-so-glad-to-be-alive way that it infringes on another plant that is actually desired.

It’s gardening time!

I went to  prepare the rock garden for some squash and pumpkin seedlings. It’s a spacious area where they may curl and swoop and tendril freely while my grandbebes may happily traipse through on pretty stones they fashioned to watch the fruit grow.

You’ll note from previous garden posts in 2013, 2012, 2011, 2010, etc… that I spend a great deal of my first gardening days each year attacking and battling hollyhocks, garlic chives and Russian Sage. The Cold War is not over in my yard!

le potager chamomile

So, that is where I started again this year…trying to remove what shouldn’t be there and is growing like a weed, so I can place other plants I do value and will almost certainly have to coax to grow.

The point of the tale

I went in with a vengeance, hacking away at those irrepressible hollyhocks, so deeply tap-rooted, so strong and very prolific. I was digging out the garlic chives who believe themselves to be welcome anywhere and everywhere and I was beating back the Russian Sage, reminding it of the boundaries I had insisted upon less than a year ago.

Then I spotted them, hundreds and I mean hundreds of short, sturdy seedlings, snapdragons, all, at my feet. Somehow, last year’s snapdragons had left their prodigy in the rock garden in literal droves all the way around each grandbebe-designed and crafted stepping stone.

012

A few feet away, I saw a huge patch of happy white chamomile, yellow-dotted daisies on bushy, strong plants totally filling one of my 4 foot by 4 foot square gardens, as if I were going to live off chamomile tea forever.

I cannot leave these plants. The chamomile isn’t useful to me in the spaces where I’ll get so many wonderful fresh vegetables for the summer. And the snapdragons, though one of my favorite annuals, can’t grow around the stepping stones or they’ll be no place for tiny feet to walk safely through to enjoy the irises and pumpkins and day lilies and moss roses and butternut squash and yes, even the Russian Sage and hollyhocks.

009

Snapdragons are wonderful, Chamomile is glorious. But when they are where they shouldn’t be, well, then Houston, we have a problem.

The Chamomile is fully flourishing, flowering with divine joy. The snapdragon, if given just a few weeks would provide an amazing and colorful show. I couldn’t just rip them out and throw them away.

Just because you can’t grow here, little seedlings, doesn’t mean you can’t be a star somewhere else.” That is what I told my little plants.

You’ve heard the old saying “Bloom where you are planted?” But sometimes there is an uprooting, for whatever reason. Sometimes you may have put down roots and thought you were at your forever place. But you couldn’t stay.  Your value couldn’t be realized there. It’s just part of living.

Just because you couldn’t bloom where you were planted doesn’t mean you will never get to be everything He created you to be and do everything He has equipped you to do. It doesn’t mean you can’t be saved. Grace saves.

Don’t worry,” I told the flowering plants, “you can’t stay here, but we’ll find you a spot.”

I felt like God re-affirmed that to me, even as I said it.

“And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace [Who imparts all blessing and favor], Who has called you to His [own] eternal glory in Christ Jesus, will Himself complete and make you what you ought to be, establish and ground you securely, and strengthen, and settle you.”  1 Peter 5.10 Amp.

Our God, the God of all gardens and life and living and roots and growth, our God, who makes all things new, is able to establish us, heal us, ground us securely and strengthen us and actually cause us to flourish!

“The [uncompromisingly] righteous shall flourish like the palm tree [be long-lived, stately, upright, useful, and fruitful]; they shall grow like a cedar in Lebanon [majestic, stable, durable, and incorruptible]. Planted in the house of the Lord, they shall flourish in the courts of our God. [Growing in grace] they shall still bring forth fruit in old age; they shall be full of sap [of spiritual vitality] and [rich in the] verdure [of trust, love, and contentment]. [They are living memorials] to show that the Lord is upright and faithful to His promises; He is my Rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him.”  Psalm 92.12- 15 Amp.

Just because you couldn’t stay in this garden here, don’t give up hope that you can be the upright, strong, fruitful star of that one over there. Bloom where you are transplanted!

Thought-Collage Thursday // Riddles

Where on earth does the time go? It’s the middle of May!

5 minutes ago, it was May Day, and suddenly the month is halfway gone, school is about to be let out, graduation parties are happening in earnest and spring seems awfully late this year (a little snowstorm on Sunday and Monday???).

snow on mothers day

What do 30 kale seedlings, 14 tomato plants, a couple dozen pepper plants, zinnias, daisies, cauliflower and cabbage, 4 cubic feet of vermiculite, 9 cubic feet of peat moss and a bunch of bags of compost have in common?

mothers day snow message on picnic table

They are not in my garden, as they SHOULD be on Mother’s Day weekend because they are waiting for some sunny warm days to happen, you know, in a row! Do I seem bitter about the spring snow? Because I obviously am.

Where in the world are DP and Tara?

heading to paris

Paris. In France. Or maybe London, in England today? Not sure which. But they are somewhere 8 hours ahead of us.

the eiffel tower in paris

I am watching Kai while they are gone. He is a little bruiser and quite independent.  He is 16 months of power and speed. But when he runs to me with his little arms up, I scoop him close as fast as I can, before the moment passes.

Yesterday, I was cuddling him for his nap and I swear a blanket of deja vu swept over me and I felt like I was in my 20s again – a young, energetic mommy. It was a heady moment, so sweet.  And Dave and I still have our co-parenting rhythm, I have found – the gentle give and take and ins and outs of baby-chores: diapering, bathing, feeding, diapering again, playing cars on the floor. We were once top experts in our field, with so many babies in the 1980s!

malakai

But at about 1 am I woke up with aching back, neck and shoulders and realized, uh no. I’m not in my 20s anymore. I am a Nonna in my 50s. Ha! But Malakai’s darling squeals and trails of cheese crackers and Hot Wheels do take me back. Memories…

How is it possible to just so deeply love this many people I have known for 11 years or less?

It’s like – I couldn’t have imagined them and then, *poof,* here they are and I cannot fathom anything without them. I could ramble on about them all, I actually could. But suffice to say, Steph gave me these shots for Mother’s Day. And I just want to give them all a *kiss-kiss* from Nonna. grandkids 2014-May Mother's Day aa Tonight is Gavin’s last band concert of the year. It’s scheduled to be outside. Hope the rain holds back. He’ll be 11 soon, and officially a middle-schooler.

Here is the low down, left to right (above): Hunter (9 1/2); he is holding Eva (5 months tomorrow), she lives to smile with her whole heart and face; Then there is Averi (6); Gunivere (8 1/2) is holding Bailey (who is 1 and wants to run); Gemma May  (7 next week) got glasses recently; Amelie Belle (4); Malakai (16 months) making a getaway; and finally the one who started it all, Gavin (turning 11 in June).

grandkids 2014-2

The lovely and fair Guinivere, as soft and sweet, thoughtful and gentle as she looks (but also sharp and wry, with a sense of humor that comes out of nowhere) just became an official business woman. She has been sewing decorator pillows (by machine, then stuffing, then finishing by hand) for $3 each to raise money for a camping trip at the zoo.

Guini pillow

She worked really hard and sold lots more than she even needed to reach her goal and her mommy said she felt the pressure of deadline order filling. But she did it. And she did it well. I am so proud of her.

Which is worse: failing at something, or not even trying?

I think almost everyone would say that not trying would be so much worse than trying something and then failing at it. But maybe the question is really this, Which is worse: failing at something you had the courage to try, or feeling ashamed by others’ reactions when you fail at something?

Forget Hunger Games, the shame game is the most deadly in the world. Though we understand that failure is just experience in the making, a stepping stone to something really great, the heaviness of having shame heaped on when it happens keeps us from trying the things we were born to try. Shame says:

  • You did it wrong. You shouldn’t have tried.
  • You have now ruined it for everyone else in the universe.
  • I hope you’ve learned your lesson.

Shame is a liar.

Don’t you just wish we would call its’ bluff more often? I want to master the art of “the shrug,” the oh-well, I tried. I did my best. I love people who can take flying leaps, outrageously stumble, then tumble, skid on their knees into brick walls, get up, hobble away with a smile and say, “Ok – next time, I think I will..” Yes! Those kind of people amaze me.

Keep trying!

BTW-what the heck with the vermiculite?

I used to be able to buy course grade vermiculite for about $3 per cubic foot at a garden center in Westminster. They closed and I need a new supplier. Now I am paying more than $10 per cubic foot.

Vermiculite is magic, though. It makes up 1/3 of Mel’s suggested Square Foot Gardening soil mixture, which, when made to spec never has to be replaced in your garden. Various composts + peat moss + vermiculite = amazing garden!

mel bartholomew all new square foot gardening

As I understand it, vermiculite is made from mica and other minerals being heated to the point of “explosion,” puffing up like popcorn! It’s like tiny, rock-looking, little sponges that soak up moisture and keep it in the soil near the plants’ roots where it is needed. It also keeps the soil from getting hard and compacted.

I am creating more tomato space in the garden this year (of. course!) and I just had to pay more than $50 for 5 cubic feet of this stuff. I am willing to raid a vermiculite stash in the night, trash bags in hand, if anyone knows where I might find such a place?

#tbt Throw-back Thursday time again!

Since I am having memories of when our kids were little so strongly this week, well, I’ll share from that era. You know I always tells you the 1980s were a blur, as we added to the family in rapid-fire succession. Oh, they were sweet days. Big hair. Silly children. Songs, church, gerbils, bikes, face paint, kids clubs, walking to school and oh, so many hugs and kisses and love among us!

rocky and dessa august 1987

At the beginning of the movie, “While You Were Sleeping,” the Sandra Bullock character is recalling her childhood and they were depicting scenes from her hazy, muted memories and she says something like, “I just don’t remember it being so…orange.” haha. I feel somewhat the same!

Daddy & Baby napping

Baby Dessa napping with her handsome daddy. Summer 1983.

Jordan, Rocky and Stormie

Does it go without saying that I, like my mother before, would not be caught without lots of sailor-inspired outfits for my children. We even brought one to their little cousin, Jordan one year!

stormie 1

Stormie’s first birthday.

Stephanie on her dedication day

Getting Stephie ready for her dedication at church, summer 1982.

tara turning two

Tara’s 2nd birthday.

Rocky on his dedication day

Rocky’s dedication day. Fall 1984.

fall 1982 church directory

One of those church directory photos. They are always the worst! But still, October or November 1982. My little family in Kokomo.

Jeanie 1987

I was the picture of a pastor’s wife, I think. Pantyhose and dresses at almost all times! Fall 1987, when the kiddos were 1 1/2 – 8 years old.

Well, this was quite the mish-mash of memories and thoughts and garden frustrations. But that is what Thought-Collage Thursdays are all about.

Please let me know if you have the answers to the riddles of life that swirl in my head, and plague my existence…especially if your know where I can get that vermiculite! :)