This is in the church driveway today, about halfway to the building (on the way in to the Heaven Fest office for a meeting). The earth. The dandelions. The rolling, dark clouds. It was a beautiful day.
taken with a very inexpensive camera by a pretty terrible picture-taker. : ) Yet, kinda beautiful!
Thunder showers! Lightening! Started out raining like crazy (way, way-low visibility on the way to Longmont). Cleansing rain, abundant moisture. Then sunny, warm, bright and beautiful. Then this gorgeous weirdness (dark on the south, sunny and blue on the north). All fading into a deep reverberating-blue, spring evening.
[French} Le moi d’Avril = The month of April [English]
“April is the cruelest month,
breeding lilacs out of the dead land,
mixing memory and desire,
stirring dull roots with spring rain.” ~ T. S. Elliott
google images
Tiny leaves and buds have appeared on the miniature lilac near the patio. I love lilacs (part of the unruly olive family). LOVE them! Did you know that, situated properly in full sun and well-drained soil they can last for centuries? Someday I intend to have a secret writing garden surrounded by lilacs where I shall where a yellow dress and sip tea, eschewing all forms of modern technology. Yes. I will do this.
You may visit me there, but your phone is not welcome.
Elise-the-Niece, the very personification of spring, is here for a visit on her way from almost a year on the YWAM base in Hawaii back to Aberdeen, SD and her family.
Things of spring: MY LIST~
Hunter, Gavin and Guini; Guini and Averi ~ artwork on the patio
Sidewalk chalk and seed packets.
Salad greens and spring showers.
Blue skies and garden bunnies.
Family birthdays and family food daze.
Birdsong and backyard play.
Sugar snap peas and Cherry Belle radishes.
Grandbebe chatter and catching up with neighbors over the fence.
Home Depot then home work.
Sidewalk sweeping and wagon pulling.
Clean windows and fresh air.
The boys building forts and digging holes for buried treasure.
Perennials popping up around the pond.
Sprouts in the garden and sproutonline.com
Petunias and pansies.
Lilies and lilacs.
The lawnmower’s roar and squeak of the swing.
Azure-blue dusk and snow-capped mountain horizons.
The smell of hot soil and the intoxicating scent of wet cedar mulch.
Fertilizer and polished furniture.
The whoosh of kids swinging and the wind’s soft whisper.
The grill fired up and sweet girls dressed up.
Terra cotta pots and tomato seedlings.
Bright lights and short nights.
The Kelley kids at church one evening last week; Elise-the-niece with Amelie Belle, the newest of the grandbebes.
April hath put a spirit of youth in everything. ~William Shakespeare
Stormie and Amelie; GemGem and her Aunt Tara; Stormie and Guinivere. At Stormie’s family birthday dinner.
Celebrating with mi familia! Happy Birthday, again, Stormie Dae Rhoades, spring baby and lovely girl! The grandbebes eating.
In springtime, love is carried on the breeze. Watch out for flying passion or kisses whizzing by your head. ~Terri Guillemets
Wrex and Stef with the birthday girl. The cookbook holder Wrex made for Stormie with his own two, bare hands! Same as the high-ticket model at Anthropologie. But better! Wrex practicing eating while holding a baby. He vows a tiny human being will not interefere in this department!
If you’ve never been thrilled to the very edges of your soul by a flower in spring bloom, maybe your soul has never been in bloom. ~Terri Guillemets
The coconut cake for Stef and Elise, icing/filling kinda to die for. Tara singing a song Stormie wrote for part of her birthday gift. Fruit Pizza is ever-so-much-more-scrumptious the next morning. Approximately 3872 calories. And I HOPE I am only kidding!
Outside after dark: the boys building their fort. Averi and GemGem, best cousins…just before the tragic accident. Gemma “ran right into” Hunter’s construction site and got quite the owie on her face. But a band-aid and a kiss makes everything better. That and getting some attention.
“Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.” ~ Rainer Marie Rilke
Means: It was exactly what I wanted to hear. I like that.
Do you hear what I hear?
Last week during our “school time,” Guini and I looked up www.redlobster.com to see what they had happening {LOBSTERfest!}. You have GOT to go to their site. The sound, all hot and sizzling and wood-crackling, is magnificent. Guini watched the home page for several minutes, mesmerized, her mouth watering as she watched and listened. She licked her lips.
Wow. Red Lobster did that well. They just added the sound of their food to the look of it. Can the scent be far behind? Is that the next thing our computers will bring to us?
I’d actually already started this LIST of sounds I lovea couple months back just because I love lists. You know how certain sounds can grate against your nerves and others can make you smile? I mean, the grandkids getting the giggles brings absolute, unbridled joy to me. A haunting violin melody in minors can stir deep emotion and melancholy. But of course, ‘nails on on a chalkboard’…(ew)…And who can deny the effect a certain song has on you when it comes on the radio. Suddenly you’re 17 again, transported back in time and even though you’re driving the grandkids around, you are there again- young and in love with love, not a wrinkle on your face, as if you have never received mail from the AARP.
Fast Company recently reported on a study that says that though a baby’s giggle is still the most addictive sound to people these days, right behind that is a vibrating phone (which was initially considered to be “silent” but indeed has its’ own sound-which we all immediately recognize) and the things that follow are also techie-sounds now: Intel, T-Mobile ringtone, AT & T ringtone, stuff like that. It used to be things like birds singing or the waves of the ocean, but the last 10 years have changed things. Wow, we are going to lose some of the melody of life, I fear. At the very least the song is changing quickly.
XSssssssssssss……..
After Guinivere and I visited the seafood restaurant’s website, I thought of adding Red Lobster’s homepage to my list because they definitely hit on a sound I enjoy, but instead, Guini and I just met Tara and Hunter and Mandy and Auburn there for lunch today. Because a sound can pull you in. It did. The shrimp was sizzling and salty, lemon squeezed over rich, tangy garlic butter; the delicately seasoned seafood linguine, sublime, mmmmmm. Wish I could give you a taste. But instead, here is my favorite sounds list. What are yours – do YOU hear what I hear??
Best cousins, Guini and Hunter. Guini, Hunter and Auburn at the old Northglenn Red Lobster.
My JOYful sounds LIST!~
Bacon sizzling.
“That’s my Nonna.” Hunter said to a friend. *smile…
GemGem doing ‘babytalk’ as we pretend she’s still a baby (to me she is).
Rushing river barreling by while I sit in the sun on the cabin deck just above Peaceful Valley.
Crackling fire.
A crackling fire with dry leaves rustling about (autumn).
Steaks on the grill.
The family splashing in the backyard pool.
Birds singing. Or just yapping their heads off.
The breeze through early summer leaf-full trees.
A cow mooing in a field.
Crickets on a summer night. Whether they are singing, rubbing their legs together, trying to get a date or all of the above, that is a summer evening!
A baseball game, the crack of the bat on the ball.
A genuine conversation between caring people with no sarcasm involved (which usually means I am only listening).
Tredessa’s slender fingers flying over her keyboard, 120 wpm.
The washer and dryer running. There is a simple, rhythmic sequence ~ that pulsatory sound of water reverberating through the house.
Thunder.
Rolling thunder, especially. And a steady rain on the roof before sun-up.
Opening a can of Diet Pepsi. Pouring it over ice.
Fireworks on the 4th of July. Not so much 9 days later, though.
My kids singing.
My grandkids telling me anything. Anything at all. Their voices are like honey to me…
The resounding roar of laughter and discovery, teasing and competing, jokes and stories and grandkids-swinging-from-chandeliers at the many, many family dinners and celebrations we enjoy. We’re not a quiet, formal bunch. It gets loud and rambunctious.
A heartbeat. The steady throb reaches to the soul and tells the undeniable truth.
Pillow talk. Kind words. Promises. I love you.
Silence. Yes, there is a sound to silence. I used to be afraid of it, uncomfortable in letting it continue too long (like radio “dead air,” which you never want), so I’d fill it with lots of sound from some source or another. But now? I love the sound of it. I cherish the white beauty of it and how it frames the rest of what I hear in silk-soft puffiness. Muting and muffling the harsh, protecting and presenting the sweet. Silencio, please…
Shhhhhh….listen.
Oh, and, Happy Birthday, David Cassidy ~ whose singing still tops my list of things I love to hear!
Amelie Belle was 10 days old on her first Easter. See how good her mommy looks?
Thinking green
Guini at “school” with Nonna on a sunny day
Get the green light:get approval to move ahead or proceed with a project or task…like planting sugar snap peas, radishes, bibb lettuce, broccoli…etc!
Green thumb:an unusual ability to make plants grow. Or maybe just knowing that if you put a seed in soil and water and provide the right environment, you will reap!
Green room:a room where performers can relax before or after appearances (as in – everyone wants to volunteer to work the green room for Heaven Fest). www.heavenfest.com Go to site. Sign up to volunteer somewhere other than the Green Room!
Greenback:a legal-tender note issued by the United States government (yes, please, I need some – issue away).
Greener pastures:– something newer or better (or perceived to be better), such as a new job or, hmmm….is the neighbor’s forsythia starting to bud before mine?
Green with envy:jealous or envious. I think the neighbor has already edged his front yard and mine is looking wobbly.
Greenhorn:novice, trainee, beginner. The person who does their yard spring cleaning before the spring winds have had a chance to blow all of their neighbor’s leaves and debris into their yard.
Green around the gills:marked by a pale, sickly, or nauseated appearance. Me, after that stinking heavy rain/snow thing broke the 4-foot growing top off the Austrian Pine that was finally giving a wall of privacy between my neighbor’s deck and my north-facing family room window..
Turn green: to look pale and ill as if you are going to vomit. Me, upon closer inspection of my Austrian Pine.
Going green: when someone or something makes changes to help protect the environment, or reduce waste or pollution. I have printed posters and will be involving the grandbebes in post-family-gathering recycling sessions! Please note: aluminum foil balls must be clean and at least 2″ in size.
But mainly? The grass is green again! The backyard is happy! The front needs to catch up!
NOTE TO BRYAN: Yes, I own colors other than green. You know, there is orange. {in ref to this post} Bryan recently started the annual tomato wars with me on his blog. Funny, but, whatev, Bry!
I love love love this orange bag Stephanie and Tristan got me for Christmas sooooo much – I may carry it ’til I die!
Isaiah 53 (The Message)
2-6The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,
a scrubby plant in a parched field…
a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.
One look at him and people turned away.
We looked down on him, thought he was scum.
But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—
our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.
We thought he brought it on himself,
that God was punishing him for his own failures.
But it was our sins that did that to him,
that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!
He took the punishment, and that made us whole.
Through his bruises we get healed.We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost.We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way.And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong,on him, on him.
Matt Redman sings one of my all-time favorite songs about what happened on the cross
YOU LED ME TO THE CROSS (Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross)
VERSE 1:
You led me to the cross
And I saw the face of mercy in that place of love
You opened up my eyes
To believe Your sweet salvation
Where I’d been so blind
Now that I’m living in Your all forgiving love
My every road leads to the cross
CHORUS:
Jesus, keep me near the cross
I won’t forget the love You’ve shown
Savior, teach me of the cross
I won’t forget the love
I won’t forget the love You’ve shown
VERSE 2:
And there’s an empty tomb
That tells me of Your resurrection and my life in You
The stone lies rolled away
Nothing but those folded grave clothes
Where Your body lay
Now that I’m living as a risen child of God
My every road leads to the cross
Jesus died. But death couldn’t hold Him. He lives. He lives!
And there’s an EMPTY TOMB
That tells me of Your RESURRECTION and my LIFE in You
The stone lies rolled away
Nothing but those FOLDED GRAVE CLOTHES
Where Your body lay
Now that I’m living as a risen child of God
My EVERY ROAD LEADS to the CROSS
NOTE:Not sure why the last few seconds of the song are cut off, but you can finish it! Sing this: “My every road leads to the cross.”
My love affair with the mixed blues, purples and lavenders of the glorious Delphinium (a royal member of the Buttercup family) began years ago when I’d pass by a fallow field on a ragged, old 2-lane highway. There along the edge and in the ditch were thousands of Delphinium growing free-form, waving quietly in the breeze. Each year for several years, the patch would grow and increase in volume, the edges expanding in glory. There was no obvious rhyme, no pre-planned reason to the patch. They were just there: seeding and re-seeding themselves and allowed to exist in all their mesmerizing beauty and the sight? Took my breath away…
Then they put a strip mall there.
The Blues, Lavenders, and Purples
In measured backyard neighborhoods we grow some along the fence to support their grand height, but the eager Delphinium is never quite allowed to be everything it was created to be, to reach for its full potential. It is placed among other flowers and plants where it is told to behave nicely, share the space and get along with others. Neat borders and purposeful edging keep it from infringing freely into the wild open. It is still beautiful, just oh-so-contained.
But I wouldn’t mind, someday, when I am too old to be expected to follow suburban-garden-protocol, to let the Delphinium be, to scatter the seed around my house and let it fall at season’s end only to sprout up in new places the next time. I would not be opposed to waking early in late spring, curtains waving in the sunlit breeze, to take my coffee out to walk amidst a full field of Delphineum dancing to a morning melody. It would not be neat, nor orderly, but it would be soft and sweet. It would be as it should be and I? I would take my place among the long stems of star-shaped blooms and disappear into the soft sway for most of the day.
I have the fever one gets come spring…Jeanie
NOTE TO SELF: 2010~let the Delphiniums have more space! Teach Sandy-the-Dog that crashing through them in a bird chase is hereby unacceptable.
Google images…wish I could find what I used to see the strip mall now stands…
“Green how I want you green. Green wind. Green branches.” –Federico García Lorca, Spanish Poet and Playwright, 1898-1936, “Romance Sonámbulo”
MARCH MADNESS
The sun was shining and it was mild. Then it rained hard for 13 seconds before pounding our house with hail for 37 seconds, after which, snow lightly fell for almost 3 minutes. Then the sun re-emerged and the house is hot. Doors and windows opened for fresh air. One direction, gray skies. The other? Blue.
Beware the Ides of March. And the weather, too.
“SUGAR SNAP PEAS.” THE STILL-LIFE.
But in related happy news, I picked up my Sugar Snap Pea seeds (the gardener’s candy) a couple of days ago. I also threw caution to the wind and grabbed some purple stock and yellow pansies to inhale deeply). I was thinking, as I got my breakfast the next morning, how much I LOVE that new-plant green color! And in 23.02 seconds flat, I had assembled this “ode to spring-green” still-life from things within my reach. Even the lowly head of grocery-store iceberg lettuce has its merits, I guess.
This is the green of new life, hope and the end of a long winter. After every winter, spring will eventually come to stay. This much I know is true.
“Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.” –Pedro Calderon de la Barca, Spanish Poet and Playwright, 1600-1681
Come along, lovely spring. Be sweet and don’t make me wait. I want you, green, badly!
The still life: my jacket from Stef, a green journal, a green plate, giant green grapes, lettuce, lime salt, sugar snap pea seeds, Wasabi sauce, lime juice, Squirt, a mug, stock, pansies and my computer—which is actually waaaaay more spring-green than it looks here!
“It’s spring fever…You don’t quite know what it is you do want, but it just fairly makes your heart ache, you want it so.” -Mark Twain
Maybe far away
Or maybe real nearby
He may be pouring her coffee
She may be straighting his tie!
Maybe in a house
All hidden by a hill
She’s sitting playing piano,
He’s sitting paying a bill!*
He was born “Baby boy Bigham” on March 23rd, fifty-one years ago to a young girl in rural Kansas who would leave the hospital without him. When he was 5 days old, the Rhoades family signed adoption papers and picked him up there, where he’d been left to himself those first important days. That precarious beginning is probably why little David Allen Rhoades, a gentle-hearted, deeply-dimpled boy grew up to be such a family man, so devoted to creating a large, loving, caring and loyal family. And why his motto is, and the kids still laugh about it, “Never go against the family,” from The Godfather.
*Betcha they’re young
Betcha they’re smart
Bet they collect things
Like ashtrays, and art!
Betcha they’re good —
(Why shouldn’t they be?)
Their one mistake
Was giving up me!
So maybe now it’s time,
And maybe when I wake
They’ll be there calling me “Baby”…
Maybe.
Foresight.
When Dave married me and took Tara as his own daughter on July 23, 1981, he alleviated my parents’ fears for her future by telling them he now understood why he’d been given in adoption. He found purpose, believing he could become her daddy and they’d have that special *chosen* bond in common, something they would understand about each other.
And when he proposed, he looked into our future and told me, “I want you to be the mother of my children.” I could not have comprehended the depth of the honor of that request in that moment, lovesick and swept away by emotion as I was. But in saying yes! I do! I have reaped the benefit of being married to a man who has been committed to building a lasting heritage, a legacy that will live on for a very long time.
*Betcha he reads
Betcha she sews
Maybe she’s made me
A closet of clothes!
Maybe they’re strict
As straight as a line…
Don’t really care
As long as they’re mine!
He is…
He is an extraordinary “poppa,” loving those grandbabies zealously. As for his passionate love for his children? His pride and pleasure in the people his children have become and the spouses they have chosen? It’s evident in his beam when he speaks of them to his students or friends.
He teaches. He preaches. He stretches his own canvases and paints in color. He sings and dances and acts – on stage! He writes books and has story after story inside him – just waiting to be told!
He is honoring to my mom and respects my dad so much. He is a pal to my siblings and loves the nieces and nephews. He reminds me to call my mom and anytime I mention going to visit my parents he says: Do it, honey. You shouldgo.They’ll like that.
Dave is a thoughtful man, making sure the toilet ring is never up to surprise me, and he never forgets to take the trash out on the right day. He’s man enough to buy *woman-stuff* for me and just seems to divine when I must have a Cheetos night 2 or 3 times a year – as if he just knew that nothing else on that night would suffice.
He does dishes and laundry (not big on folding, but he hangs anything and everything that can be hung and seems to enjoy it – which is why I will keep letting him do it). He cooks for me if I need him to and tucks cash in to my wallet just because. He charges my phone, fills the gas tank and carries heavy stuff for me.
Dave is a nice guy and a good husband. And I am mostly thankful that even though I kinda think I am, he tells me I am not crazy. And he sees my drive and tendency to jump into the deep end of life (he has called it, going at everything in life “like a house on fire“) as me being passionate, alive and lively. And he likes that about me.
Loving and loved.
So today, I celebrate Dave’s life. Even though 51 years ago he was alone, today he is surrounded by hundreds of students and family and friends and even fans (he was a spectacular Daddy Warbucks) who know his worth and his value and how lucky they are to know him. I know I am.
And I am happy that he spent the last 6 months getting that A1c level down from 13-14% to 6% and has taken huge strides in reversing his Type 2 Diabetes! He is healthier now than he has been for 5+ years. I have always loved those Perry Mason-broad shoulders and I am so proud of him, he is looking good! So glad that we’ll be celebrating his birth and the life he lives for many years to come!
Happy birthday, my husband. I love you. I am loving all the changes.
And so glad the hair will be growing back now, too!
*So maybe now this prayer’s
The last one of it’s kind…
Won’t you please come get your “Baby”
Maybe…
Pictured: Top, Dave at age 1, then at age 4 or 5 with his mom and in April 1981 speaking at chapel at Northwest Bible College just before he graduated. Next, Dave and the original 4 daughters at Stonebrook Manor last week. Then, watching a video of his Annie performance with some of the grandbebes one Sunday night (Gavin, Guini, Gemma, and Averi); Next, Dave with some of the grandkids the night he was going to be getting his hair shaved off (Hunter, Averi, Guini and Gemma). Then, Dave at Stonebrook Manor for one of the fundraising dinners, Dave backstage with some “orphans” from Annie. Finally, Dave and I at Stonebrook Manor last week and on our way to a Heaven Fest potluck a couple of weeks ago.
*Lyrics: “Maybe” from Annie, the song that made Dave tear up at almost every performance over the past couple of months…because he understood…
