Hellebores and Daffodils
I do not normally ever think there are enough daffodils in my house. Ever.
However, when I think of all the daffodils my beloved has brought me over the years, I get a soft, satisfied feeling I cannot explain.
Fulfilled? Maybe. Or maybe just content?
Anyway, I promised to show you the very first bouquet from this year on the 21st, but I guessed wrong at the date and today is the day!
Today is National Peanut Butter Day?
So they say.
Well I decided to share with you my connection to the lowly peanut, and the butter we make from it.
Forty-five years ago (tomorrow!) I acquired a wonderful, brand new husband. Never looked back. However, it wasn’t long before we were sharing a tad of morning sickness and he had the cure!
It was not something I would have chosen to swallow that morning, not at all. It sounded gross.
But his enthusiasm (plus the fact that he could stand up without fainting and I could not) won the day.
I found myself eyeball to eyeball with a bowl of canned chicken noodle soup and the most amazing combination of foods I could ever imagine in a sandwich.
It was not even a good color combination, and the aromas from it were less than what a newly prego lady would want.
However, it all was served to me while I was still in bed, and with such youthful exuberance, I had to smile to myself at the awesome idea of this young man serving me, his young bride, breakfast in bed with such a hopeful expression, no matter WHAT the menu.
So I sipped on the soup, for starters. (Soup is supposed to be the first course, anyway, I remembered from home ec class.) The soup was fine. He actually knew how to open a can of soup, dilute it properly, and warm it without boiling it over; a factoid worth mental note, indeed.
And he was truly caring and attentive, I also noted, with pleasure.
But the sandwich!
It was time. I had to take at least one bite. How on earth could anyone be so callous as to ignore any part of this loving offering, right?
So I took a bite. I chewed.
The unbelievable flavor combination of white bread, peanut butter, and dill pickle awakened my taste buds to a new world.
And I’ve never looked back
Happy 45th, a day early, Sweetheart! ❤
“Hey! Turn that back on!” I heard from the hallway one day.
It had happened again.
We have taught our children, from the time they were young, to turn off lights as they leave a room. Someone had turned out the light while there was someone still in that room.
It was a case of what I like to call “good habit—bad timing”.
How amazing that the brain, once trained, knows what to do on its own! Eventually we no longer have to think about what to do and how to do it.
Imagine if you had to reinvent tying your shoe, each time you did it. We can turn off a light without thinking, even without looking at the switch. We can be thinking about the next task in the next room while we finish the task in the current one.
The mind is wonderful!
During an exercise class, I heard a phrase worth remembering:
“That which is used, develops; that which is not used atrophies.”
At that time, I did not know the meaning of the word “atrophy”, so I guessed it meant the opposite of “develop”. Since our family has a motto of knowing, instead of guessing, it bothered me I didn’t know for sure, so I looked it up.
Think of all the habits working in this experience:
How difficult it would have been for me to benefit from the experience had I not had all those habits! Oh, the drill, supplied by faithful adults, that formed them in me!
The sad thing is that some children who lack faithful training might be learning to hate exercise instead of fearing atrophy. We have many such children living among us, these days—lacking drill in good habits—and this loss causes many problems. They never reap any benefit from life’s normal experiences. They become abnormal.
And we have to make up for their loss all around us.
Our children do not have to be among them, though. The home is the perfect environment for instilling good habits.
Let’s do it!
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(Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I live about an hour from the loveliest little spot for a vacation. Seriously, it has EVERYTHING!
Let me count the ways:
So impressive, the first time I went there, I was five, and even then, I knew I had to go there someday when I could see the whole thing.
Been there so many times, and haven’t seen it all, yet. Talking about it (to my history-loving heart) is never overdone.
For more photos, view here.
For more about Hot Springs, view here, and here.
He served in the Army, bought a house on the G.I. Bill, raised five kids, worked hard at Kuhlman’s Plastics to provide you with laundry baskets and us with something to eat, gave us airplane rides on his feet, built three rooms and a basement onto our house when we grew too large for what we had, taught me how to back a bent nail out of a 2×4, mowed our two-acre yard with a walk-behind mower, sang a beautiful bass in the church choir, planted a big garden every spring and kept it pretty-well weeded, and lived to see his children’s children.
With all the tornados floating around lately, come many more words about tornados. It’s a real storm out there and I’d like to add to the din.
I wrote a couple of years ago about my close call with a really big, destructive tornado. People like to read about these events. Not just y’all; I read these stories too.
As I was re-reading some of these writings today, I noticed something. I think the events that shape our lives prepare us for living a successful life in the end. I think we can look back on our childhoods and see how God was preparing us to face our future.
If we pay attention . . .
One thing in particular that stood out for me, as I read these old stories today was this: It was no time for hurt feelings.
Not then; not now.
I wrote about my six-year-old self:
I knew it was a tornado up there, whatever a tornado was. I looked up, too, and stumbled.
Mom scolded me sharply. “Don’t look up! Don’t look up! Don’t look up!” She seldom scolded sharply. It hurt my feelings but I knew it was no time for hurt feelings. Her words were like a mantra, a warbled charm against bad omens . . . don’t look up, don’t look up . . .
As I notice the world today, I realize how much I knew back then, and how much my mom knew, and what good I could make of it if I only paid attention and applied it to my current life.
One caveat:
We should look up.
Jesus told us it would get worse, and when it does, to look up. To stand up. To lift up our heads.
Why? Because our salvation will be very near.
And when these things begin to come to pass, then look up, and lift up your heads; for your redemption draweth nigh. Luke21:28 KJV
A bold and brave testimony from one of the Tittle daughters. May we all raise children like her:
A day of extreme emotions here at FamilyLife. April 28, 2014
He died as he lived … protecting his family.
Rob Tittle, a FamilyLife staff member and kindred spirit warrior for the family, died last night in the tornado that crushed parts of central Arkansas. Two of his daughters—Tori, age 20, and Rebekah, 14—were among the 14 killed in the storm.
Rob, 48, and his wife Kerry, had heard the tornado warnings and were shepherding their nine children under a stairwell when the tornado disintegrated their home. Rob was doing what a man does—putting his family first—when the twister hit. All that is left is a grim grey slab of concrete.
Their 19 year old daughter posted this on Facebook: “This is… from a friend’s house, my mom, and my six brothers/sisters are alright. We have lost three of our family …
Please continue reading this lovely young woman’s testimony, and the rest of this tender report, here.
The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away: Blessed be the name of the Lord.
Behold, now is the day of salvation.
Home's Cool! 