My Sweet 100 Cherry Tomato plant, in a 3-gallon pot, having overcome the 8-lb. hornworm not long ago, is making little tomatoes like crazy. Except, it must not understand the size thing. Cherries are not this big, little tomato plant. You are really going to way too much trouble. But thank-you for the juicy deliciousness!
Averi and I ran some errands yesterday. We purchased a package of brightly-colored, stretchy headbands for which she had an instant affinity and she was explaining to me how much she loved the bright colors, but she was trying to think of the “right” word for them.
“Neon!” She finally remembered. They were neon-colored! Oh, how she loves neon colors, she kept effusing while deciding which one or two to wear with her outfit.
“Did you know, ” I took her down memory lane, “that when your daddy and all your aunts were little kids back in the 80s, neon was a huge thing? They had lots of neon clothes and shoes and headbands back then!”
She was awed by this news.
“Really, Nonna? Wow! God must have thought all the little children wouldn’t know about neon unless He made it for them now. So He made some more neon so we would know!”
Her extreme gratefulness for God’s kindness in making neon known to her all these years later was evident as she adjusted her headband and sighed, with a very big smile on her cute little face, “I love neon colors.”
A wonderful thing: I got $60 worth of kid’s Creatology Musical Instruments today at Michael’s for a little less than $12! Yay! I had been wanting them for the grandbebe playroom.
I can just hear a little {grandbebe} band making merry music in my very near future! In good, old-fashioned primary colors. ;)
Just this one and Google (for searching anything you can dream up). The image above is from Amazon, of course.
Mel Bartholomew is the father of smart gardening. And how you can grow more veggies in less space with way less work and we all need to know these things!
But one day, I decided that I had had enough of grocery store tomatoes. I couldn’t quit thinking of summers at my Aunt Rosie’s. Her redwood-stained picnic table was loaded daily with her freshest picks from the garden. We ate corn on the cob, green beans cooked with bacon and juicy hamburgers. But the piece de resistance was the tomato. The tomato in her garden was the queen. She cut huge slabs of beefsteak tomatoes, red through and through and passed the platter, then the salt. And the tingling, tart-sweet explosion on your tongue – well, you had to be there.
So when my kids were all teenagers, I became a gardener. I decided to grow tomatoes and green beans and baby zucchini, plucked and grilled while tiny and delectable instead of waiting for them to become brick bats and then running out of friends and relatives to pawn them on. I decided to be a gardener.
This was Mel’s original Square Foot Gardening book
I shudder to think what my experience may have been had it not been for Mel Bartholomew. Because even though I had actually checked about 16 gardening books out at once,his message sounded truer than any of the others, logical, just made sense. It was simple and doable and I took 37.42 pages of notes on his book.
An I had THE MOST amazing garden. I had a huge yard back then and threw garden boxes in all over the place. I even had room for more than 20 tomato plants. I had harvest coming out my ears of everything I grew: okra, swiss chard, lettuces, peppers of every color, 4 or 5 types of radish, corn, mini-corn, watermelon, cucumbers, strawberries and grapes – everything you could imagine – but mostly, tomatoes.
My Aunt Rosie, right
My Aunt Rosie and I talked on the phone a lot that year and exchanged letters excitedly sharing that day’s harvest, “Well, today I got about 16 beefsteak tomatoes, a bowl full of cherry and half a basket of plum. The parsley and basil are running wild. I have a large pot of green beans on the stove for dinner.” We loved sharing the great good news of the garden.
I checked Mel’s book out regularly for the first few years, each January. Imagine my delight when I walked in to the library annual book sale a few years down the road and there it was for 10-cents. How truly fortuitous. I have THE orginal book from which I was first inspired to garden and LOVE it!
And now Mel has made it even easier. I got his newer book just last summer. The charts, wisdom, the inspiration, the cheering on – all of it. THE only book you’ll ever really need. But I am keeping both of mine! :)
SFG! All the way. Check it out.
Wasn’t it just yesterday we were up in the mountains, a staff retreat for a church I worked at, and didn’t we just get the call, “Stephanie is on her way to the hospital to have the baby,” and wasn’t it, of course in {the middle of the night}??! And didn’t we JUST throw our things together and hit the road, passing over the Continental Divide and zooming down the mountain to be there for her birth? And wasn’t it the most beautiful early morning thing ever? No, it wasn’t yesterday, it was 8 very fun-filled, fast-flying years ago.
As grandbebes go, Guin-Guin was number three, only her big brother, Gavin and her cousin, Hunter-Magoo ahead of her. Right away, she established that she wasn’t anything like the boys. She was, indeed, a girl, an adorable little love-muffin. Quiet, gentle-spirited, thoughtful and determined, Guini’s feet are firmly planted, no push-over, she, but a focused, peaceful and calm disposition emmanates like sun-rays from Guinivere Eden!
“A girl without freckles is like a night without stars.”
She is my Guini-muggins, my sweet-pea, my Guin-Guin, my darling girl, my first sugar-and-spice grandbebe, my sweet-sweet girly-q! And ~ my flower girl, for ever and always…{below, a video Guini and I made when she turned 5}:
Now…
May the God of all hope and comfort, the God who excitedly fashioned you from the His brightest, loveliest and most creative thoughts and made you so gentle and sensitive in spirit {such a depository of His love and grace}, may that God make His very own will for you known and may it be done and settled here on earth just as He decreed it from heaven. And may you be an agent of His love and grace from your middle-child vantage point and I pray He will deliver you from all evil and that the {fire of your faith} in Jesus Christ {{our Savior!}} will set nations ablaze for His glory, yes! To the praise of His glory!
So be it!
Freckles are kisses from the angels. They love to kiss-kiss Guini’s face. Me, too!
No, not dog-dooty, though there will be some of that. This is my note to our dog caretaker {Hi, Jon!} for the next three days while we are on holiday (Tuppy-the-Puppy will be there, too)…
Yes, she had a bath. She just smells like that and looks the way she does because…? We don’t know. We saved her from the junkyard years ago (she is at least 13+ years old now), but she still looks like a recent rescue.
She does not play fetch or any typical dog games fairly, but does actually want you to take back whatever the item was you threw that caused her to chase – you just have to pry from her slobbery mouth. The growl is totally fake.
She sleeps a lot. A lot. She likes to nap in the sun sometimes, but usually just the coolest place on the floor. Or right on top of your feet. Don’t trip.
And she is mostly deaf, not just being rebellious or ignoring you. She reads lips pretty well, though, so if you get into her line of vision and pronounce in an exxagerated fashion, you’re off to the races. :)
She moves really slowly now, but loves a good run-n-play in the yard…for 3-5 minutes, max. Then, naptime.
I know EVERYONE says this: but she doesn’t bite and is not vicious – ever.
However, her bark is LOUD!!! Which, we use to our advantage when {ignorant} solicitors refuse to believe the no-soliciting sign on our porch. We crack the door and let her go crazy barking and make them believe we are saving their lives by not letting them in. Truth: if I opened the door fully, she’d quit barking and they’d see her tail was actually wagging in a Welcome-come-on-in-and-stay-awhile way and they would suddenly be best friends.
She loves you already. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t even know you yet. She has never met a human being she didn’t want to adore fully right off the bat, with the possible exceptions being screaming-2-year-olds. They make her nervous. But fully-grown people? She loves even the dog-haters. She is just a great big lover. She will attach herself to you as if she is the Secret Service on Presidential Guard duty. No one will be able to get to you on her watch…and you may even have trouble getting around her if say, you want to go to the bathroom or something. Her motto, once you have bonded, will be,
“Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God…”
Yes, this will be your life for these Sandy-the-Dog days.
Sandy is a little jealous of Tuppy (the spokes-model puppy). It is an unsanctified area of her life. Tuppy is fluffy and soft and small, cute and young; and poor Sandy, rather decrepit and wiry and gray and used up. She will give you the Wow-all-these-years-of-loyalty-obviously-mean-nothing eyes. Just pet her, too, once in awhile and she’ll be appeased. A few treats a day are fine. Whatever is needed to show love.
By the way – she is really not a big over-eater, though if she thinks Tuppy is eyeing her food, she’ll start madly gulping it down. So, treats whenever Tuppy gets any are fine while we are away.
She is not allowed on the furniture, no matter what she tries to tell you.
Do not even attempt to take her on a walk unless you have good insurance for shoulder-injuries. She will choke herself into a coma trying to dislocate your bones. Her exercise is running the fenceline, warding off evil and possible cats at breakneck speed. Time in the backyard will see her through.
She likes to go outside and then come back in, oh, hmmmm, about 87 times a day. But can actually handle much less. Here are the reasons she will give you for wishing to go outside:
Then she’ll run the fence making noise like a banchee and want right back inside.
The main thing, I think, is – and I cannot stress this enough – don’t let our dog die while we are gone or that will just ruin our whole…lives. :) No pressure or anything. But we’d like to be there for that important life event . So, you know – just keep her healthy and alive while we are away. To the best of your ability. :)
Ba-da–bum!
Happy Anniversary to a man I so don’t deserve, but thank God for everyday.
A {very} few of our stats:
We were like newlyweds for the first 25 years or so. Then we found out, like so many have, that marriage and deep love is fragile. Our vows said “I choose you this day…” but we couldn’t even have grasped what that choice would actually mean.
Today you wrote to me:
Until you’ve laughed and learned and loved and listened; year upon year upon year… Until you’ve wiped hot tears off the cheek of the one you love, until you’ve been through the agony and wonder of childbirth, until you’ve walked through the fires of hell side by side, hand in hand, heart in heart, until you’ve stared death in the face (both spiritually and literally) and said, not today; then you don’t really know what 32 years together can bring.
Now we know what that choice means. And still we choose. I love you. You.
Sunday afternoon. My garden is still smiling from a torrential downpour yesterday evening. It battered the petunias a bit, yet they are bright and beautiful, fragrant and deeply brilliant, anyway. It is so wonderful to step outside, know there are lots of things that need “done” and still be greeted by beauty all my works cannot create, anyway. I thank God for this amazing grace! 
I have about a dozen weekend projects going and I don’t think they’ll get finished, but I am so grateful to get to work on them and see the mirror wall really taking shape (since Dave’s ribs are fully healed) and I have been re-doing all the grandbebe craft supplies trying to answer the age-old question: how do you keep creativity-inspiring supplies for art and crafts on hand for kids (and accesible) AND not go crazy when they are actually {quite liberally} used for inspired creativity? This doesn’t answer that question, but I have decided to make a list (because I LOVE lists) of simple art projects they can do at anytime with the things I have on hand. That will at least answer the question, “Nonna – what can we do now?” when the little ones are here.
There was an old woman {who is actually not that old} who lived in Colorado; she had so many grandbebes she could barely keep up… I have enjoyed large chunks of time {days, even} with the first 6 (of 8.4 current grandebes): the K-kids, the little Rock & Jovan girlies, and Hunter-Magoo. I got to see Kai briefly, but baby Bailey was away (D2S).
There was splashing (the pool), and tiny little swim suits and trunks in a veritable trail from the doors to the bathroom. There was squeaking (the trampoline) as little ones jumped high and long. Everybody stayed up way too late and we probably snacked way too much. There was art and “school work” and playing pretend house and dress-up, dancing and army guys, fort-building, sand-digging and looking through the telescope at the moon {“I see the real craters, Nonna!!!” said one. “You can actually see the dark side of the moon!” another told me} and general silliness all around.
I am pooped out. Good thing I had my kids young because these little ones wore.me.down! But – with goodness. I am depleted wholly by the best things of life. I am blessed!
Gemma and I got some just-us time wholly unexpectedly this fine Saturday morning. It was so fun to have her all to myself – that hasn’t happened much since we used to have pre-school together weekly. We chatted about life (she is 6 now and heading in to full-day first grade!), played with Play-Doh, read a 1940s collection of Nursery Rhymes and tried to figure out what on earth some of them meant???, made pita-toast egg and cheese sandwiches, more Play-Doh time, then we watched 1 1/2 episodes of “My Little Pony” while she explained all the characters to me and how they interact (she does so love Pinkie-Pie, the party-loving pony) then we decided, before heading to the pool, that we’d do a major art project. She chose water-color painting.
We used some vinyl stick on letters to spell out her name on a big white sheet of kid’s art paper. Gemma used a black permanent marker to draw a design right over the letters and everything. She was a fan of the zig-zags and threw in some circles for good measure. We chose just 5 watercolors in an egg carton to paint in the areas she had created (though she did a little mixing right on the paper for more hues). Her Nonni made quite a mess with those and they are highly-stain-making {*ahem}. Nonna now has colorful hands – at least until time in the pool.
When Gemma was finished filling in all of the spaces she had created (and there were LOTS), she got to carefully-carefully-carefully peel off the vinyl lettering.
Song on video: Late 1977, “Hey, Deanie,” by Shaun Cassidy, which would have been a much better song if it had been “Hey, Jeanie!”
Hey Deanie
Won’t you come out tonight
The summer’s waitin’
The moon is shinin’ so bright
Hey Deanie you’re the one
I’m dreamin’ of…
Amelie Belle is three years, 3 months and almost 3 weeks old. And she is a little worshipping, praise-dancer. I love how she loves this little purple and peach, pleated dress because when it goes on, the joy-dancing starts!
This is a video of her at the big Dare2Share Conference in Lakewood this week while her daddy was leading some late-night worship. The room is big and dark, but the skirt is unmistakably neon! :)
Hey, btw – Amelie’s Auntie Stormie is rocking it on the bass!
This is a daylight look at the dress (she had gone to bed with wet hair and her cousin and sister fixed her up in ponies and flowers in the morning) at our house 2 days ago. As Amelie often says: see??? This dress personifies the colorful, energetic, playful, happy, ornery, sugar and spice, super-sweetie-pie, girly-girl little Amelie is at this exact moment in her life.
I love the dress. I adore the darling Amelie Belle!
Averi & Amelie are here for a few days while mommy and daddy & baby Bailey are doing ministry at a Dare2Share Conference in Lakewood at Colorado Christian University.
We were talking about how many days it was until Averi would be starting Kindergarten. She asked me how many days it was since I was in Kindergarten. Thousands, Averikins. Thousands and thousands of days.
Then I said, “Hey-do you want to see a picture of me on my first day of kindergarten when I was 5 just like you?”
“Yes!” she was excited. “Do you have a video of it?”
“No,” I explained. “Some people did have old movie cameras when I was little, but back then nobody could do videos like now. There wasn’t even YouTube or anything.”
Her eyes widened, she shook her head and became incredulous? “What?! How did your mom do videos of you then? That is so weird, Nonna.” Her eyebrows were drawn together, her jaw dropped open in shock.
I am the antique, vintage, old-model relic to her. But she loves me anyway. I guess I recall having that same reaction to my Grandma Allison telling me her grandfather was a circuit preacher who went town to town by horseback. No car??! I thought. Amazing. Hard to believe people could live like that.
Meanwhile, my grandkids cannot comprehend not having smart phones. Gavin is going to teach me how to do special movie effects soon, a little trick he mastered on his iPod. They are speeding right past me.
Averi wanted to look at her baby pictures on my computer today after looking at the vintage Jeanie-in-Kindergarten pic. She wanted to use www.picmonkey.com to make one “so cute.” I showed her a few things and then she took over. At 5, she is able to navigate re-sizing the images and even changing the colors. She did this herself with just a little prompting from me, then finished it and said, “Please put this on my mom’s Facebook and tell her ‘This is my picture and this is my blog.'” I didn’t even know she had a blog. :)
Averi – the soon-to-be Kindergartener…Oh yes. I took this gorgeous picture…but I mean, the subject is divine!
When we hit save on the baby picture she had filled with birds and animals, she exclaimed, “Now THAT’S what I’M talking about!”