We recently went to the Garvin Gardens light display in Hot Springs, AR. It was beautiful, but outside of a brief nod to the Santa stuff, it was mostly not even about Christmas, let alone about the Nativity.
Shown here is a water feature that includes a tree transformed by night in to a blue “willow” with only light strings. Beautiful, but no cigar.
There also was a pagoda that was terribly fun to stand inside and gaze upward. It looked like being inside an explosion, I suppose, but what actual significance did it have?
Lastly, I captured a peacock made of lights. A peacock.
I love dreams, except for nightmares. I love recalling those crazy twisted dreams and trying to figure what was going on in my head that I could have thought such things when my mind was disengaged.
They say “house” dreams are about yourself, so the one I dreamed with the flooded basement probably was not a good sign. But what about the one where the staircase just went on forever with thousands of rooms on hundreds of floors, all furnished like a ritzy bed-and-breakfast? Hmm.
My other dreams, my wide-awake dreams where I plan how wonderful I will be next year, are another story. These dreams haunt me. I put them off, thinking I need some other thing to be just perfect before I can get started. You know the type: losing weight, writing a book, finishing crocheting that afghan, unpacking the last box from moving several years ago, etc. I know I should make some headway on at least some or at the very least one of these dreams, but the facts stand on the sidelines laughing at me. The facts are that I don’t do what I could and I don’t know why.
I used to keep ironing up to date. Really. I used to keep my flower beds weeded. I used to weigh less.
I think partly I was living before my children and insisted on setting a good example at all times. Now they are grown and mostly gone and no one is watching me.
Except the Lord. He sees. He knows.
What I used to do because I believed I must do it, I now must learn to do only because it is right. My mind allows me choices these days, and I am surprised at who I see living underneath all the exterior rules I had made for myself.
I distinctly remember thinking, when the last child was off to college, “Whew! Now I can rest and do whatever I please. Finally! I am my own puppy!”
I can’t exactly call them cherry tomatoes, although they are of that variety. Trouble is, cherries are red.
But these are cheer, personified. I planted them beside my front porch because they would be yellow and everything in the front of our house is yellow, from the roses, to the foundation plantings.
Happy Fruits
As you can see, the vines have become bedraggled, as is normal for all annual type plants in fall. What you cannot see is how much better they look than they did even a week ago. I mourned all the promising green fruits because I thought they were dying. Maybe they were.
But they did not give up. They eventually received some rain and the temps are so much milder, now, these poor South American natives can finally breathe and reproduce! Like the “Little Engine That Could” they thought they could until they did.
I love how the most hope-giving mottos of life are from the Bible: “Do not grow weary in well-doing, for in due season, ye shall reap, if ye faint not.” (Galatians 6:9)
How many times have I held on because of those words! How many times have I not wanted to forgive, but did, anyway. How many times have I feared, but followed through; have I reached out, tended to, lent a hand, smiled, listened, when I really wanted to go my own way.
How many times have I offered to help and been handed something too hard, something I then had to learn how to do, because, after all, I offered? And then I learned more than I knew was possible for me to grasp. And my life became richer. And my thanksgiving became more sincere. And my love became deeper.
Let’s keep on keeping on. Let’s not give up. Let’s “faint not”.
Oh, to bring back the days of sweet, crunchy pears! What memories of delicious fruit we would have forever!
We cannot bring them back, but we can prolong those days by helping the harvest last longer, by canning those pears.
If you are coming into the lovely problem of too many pears, here is how we deal with them–mmm!
1. Core and remove stems, but do not peel pears. Remove bad spots. Drop into 1 gallon water with 1 vitamin C tablet crushed in it.
2. Drain pears. Bring to boil in non-reactive pan (stainless steel or enamel) over medium heat with 1/2″ fresh water in covered pan.
3. Allow pears in water to simmer, stirring, until fruit is soft, adding water if necessary, to prevent scorching.
4. Mash pears or press through colander.
5. Return pulp to pan and season to taste with brown sugar, and if desired, cinnamon.
6. Reheat until simmering and hold at simmering for a few minutes. Keep at simmering, stirring, during entire process. Add water if needed.
7. Meanwhile, estimate number of pint or smaller canning jars you will need to contain all the pear butter. Wash carefully and rinse these jars. Count the same number of canning lids (flats) and heat in small saucepan of water as directed on box. Set aside and keep hot. Be sure to have one screw band for each lid. Lay one or two jars down in another large pan with 2″ water in it. Cover and bring to boil. Bring to boil another covered pan large enough to hold all the jars at once, with water enough to cover all the jars and rack in bottom of pan to keepjars from direct contact with bottom. (This pan should be a bit larger than your largest burner, and at leat 16″ tall, like a spaghetti boiler. The perfect pan is often called a “water bath canner”. If you lack a lid, a pizza pan works fine.)
8. Using jar lifter, carefully remove one jar from boiling water, emptying into boiling pan, and set it upright onto thick towelling.
9. Using canning funnel and long-handled measuring cup, carefully ladle simmering pear sauce into jar, within 1/2″ of top. Wipe rim clean and dry. Remove flat from hot water with tines of fork. Apply flat and screw band to filled jar, using thick towel to protect hands from heat. Use jar lifter to set lidded jar into tall pan of boiling water.
10. Repeat until all sauce is in jars, in boiling water bath. Time boiling from this time, for 15 minutes. Remove jars and set on clean, DRY towelling. Cover with light towel and allow to cool away from drafts. Do not disturb until completely cooled.
11. Remove screw bands from all sealed jars. (Sealed jars will be indented on top.) Place any unsealed jars in refrigerator and use very soon. Place all others in cool, dark place to keep for at least a year and use whenever you miss those crunchy pears!
We use this in place of jam on buttered toast.
Sometimes I only add white sugar and no spices to this recipe and we eat it like applesauce. Sometimes the pears are so sweet, I skip the sugar, too.
It’s all good!
I do hope these directions were clear. I ‘d be happy to answer all questions here. Remember, the only dumb question is the unspoken one! 🙂
Mostly I will allow these shots to speak for themselves.
I don’t know where you live, but if you know anything about wasps, which is what the large creature is, here, you know that anything smaller than a wasp that can make a wasp act terrified, is a force to be dealt with.
I dealt with them both.
But look!
Trying to Escape
What you see here is a large, round, brown planter beside a smaller, rectangular, gray planter, with a large black wasp caught in a black widow web. It is she, herself, also visible, moving in. Can you see her red dots?
Closing In!
Sorry I couldn’t stage these better. Uncooperative subjects! The widow is obvious unafraid; not so, the wasp.
Just like that, the wasp is dead.
Based on the size of it, the wasp may have been a queen? Makes a good story: One queen defeats another.
“I’ll wrap this up later…”
It’s that time of year, when we remember we are surrounded, here, with large and dangerous beasts. Always, stay at least four feet from a black widow spider because it is a jumping spider and is fearless.
Well, almost fearless. I used a zoom function to get this seemingly close. At first she was put off by my flash, but she got over it.
And always, ALWAYS go immediately to a hospital if a black widow spider bites you. They may not give you anti-venom, but they will know what to do and you will need close observation for at least two days. A black widow spider bite can kill a full-grown man in about 4 hours. Do not think you are an exception.
As a clue, besides the obvious red marking on a shiny black spider, the web is tough and of no apparent pattern, as if the weaver were drunk. It makes an audible tearing sound if you tear it, because it is such a tough web. They prefer undisturbed places, which our front porch has become, since it’s been so hot around here.
For the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant;
its blossom falls and its beauty is destroyed. In the same way, the rich man
will fade away even while he goes about his business. James 1:11
We recently went to the Garvin Gardens light display in Hot Springs, AR. It was beautiful, but outside of a brief nod to the Santa stuff, it was mostly not even about Christmas, let alone about the Nativity.
Home's Cool! 