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11月29日 My First Thanksgiving Even though I am 32 years old, I had never fixed Thanksgiving dinner before – before this year that is! In fact, I have been rather spoiled in the past. I have rarely had to lift a finger on Thanksgiving. I've brought some rolls or some homemade cranberry sauce, but that has really been the extent of my Thanksgiving work. Of course, being pregnant, having three young children or traveling have limited my time in the kitchen somewhat. It is hard to contribute when you are on the road from Nashville to Missouri. But these past few years I really have had no excuse – just spoiled.
Since God has blessed us with a bigger house, my Hubby and I want to be more hospitable. In the past, we have truly lacked the space to entertain. We did from time to time, but it was always very tight quarters. This year, I asked my Mom if we could do Thanksgiving at my house. She was somewhat hesitant, but understood my wanting to open up my home and agreed. My Mom, my sister and me all came up with a game plan.
The kids were off school the week of Thanksgiving and I had all my duties planned out in my head. I had plenty of time to spend with them and to get everything done before everyone arrived. But of course, things never go like I have them planned in my head.
Every Monday night I drive across town for a great women's Bible study. The kids come with me because they offer a kid's study that parallels with the women's. I fed the kids before we left, but was running behind schedule and did not feed myself. By the time Bible study was over I needed food! I stopped at a gas station to fill up and Sissy urged me to go inside to get something to eat. I grabbed an OJ and some cashews and drank half the bottle before setting out on the road again.
Come to find out the bottle of OJ was almost a YEAR OUT OF DATE!!!! UGH! Needless to say I was so sick all that night and into the next day. I thought I was going to have to cancel Thanksgiving at my house. I laid on the couch much of Tuesday and finally held some soup down Tuesday evening. I was sore and weak and had missed a whole day of preparation. I didn't tell my extended family about my bout with food poisoning because I was afraid they would not come knowing that I needed my rest.
Wednesday, I stayed up until one o'clock making up for lost time. I cleaned, did laundry, and of course started cooking. I made homemade whole berry cranberry sauce, deviled eggs and my hubby's favorite, squash casserole. I prepared the celery, onions, and bread for the stuffing. I got the table ready and after one last sweep and mop, I set the alarm for 5:15 a.m. and went to bed. I tossed and turned. I was nervous about the turkey. I was so afraid I would mess it up and have 11 very disappointed people looking at me hungrily.
Thursday morning, I groggily re-read the instructions for the turkey and removed the gizzards and things. As I was standing at the kitchen sink being more intimate with a turkey than I ever had before, I had an awful feeling wash over me that I was doing all this on the wrong day! I peered out the window looking for signs that my neighbors were up preparing turkeys. I talked myself through my silly thoughts as the turkey drained and I started mixing the stuffing.
As I stuffed the 23 lbs. turkey my mind flashed back to the last time, perhaps only time, I had stuffed a turkey. I was a little girl and I could hear my Mom's voice telling me to put more in there when I had insisted the turkey was full. So, I stuffed and stuffed and my Mom was amazed later that day at the amount of stuffing I had managed to get in there! :)
Since this was the first time I cooked a turkey, I borrowed my Mom's huge roasting pan with a lid that she uses every year. I was worried at first the pan was too tall for my oven so I stuck the pan in a few days before to make sure it fit. Thursday morning, after wrestling the turkey into the pan and into the oven I was horrified to find out that my oven would NOT shut! The pan with the handles was too LONG! I never thought to measure the length! ! I panicked! I cocked the pan sort of sideways, but still the oven door would not shut all the way. I had purchased one of those large oven roasting bags and ended up putting the turkey in one of those and then on my thickest cookie sheet. It seemed to work great and the turkey turned out well, but for a moment there I thought about sitting in the kitchen floor to cry.
As I sat down to read my bible and have my first of many cups of coffee that day, I realized how much women love their families that go through the Thanksgiving ritual year after year. I suppose it becomes somewhat less stressed as they become better prepared and fall into a routine, but nevertheless the effort and hard work never changes.
I had plenty of help when Mom arrived with pumpkin and apple pies and started her famous giblet gravy that was passed down from my great-great grandmother. She prepared the dressing and approved my sweet tea. : ) Sis came in loaded down with corn, green bean casserole and fruit salad makings. I enjoyed having us all in the kitchen together. Sissy and Paddy came in to help too. It was wonderful!
We had a feast to say the least and even though I was worn out I understand why women do it year after year. It was worth the effort. So, I want to say a much belated thank you to all the women in my life who year after year have made Thanksgiving seem so perfect and seamless. And thanks to my Mom and sister who made the first Thanksgiving at my house so special. 11月23日 I Smell Bacon (No, not the fuzz) I walked into a large, nationwide craft store with the kids yesterday and our nostrils were immediately invaded by the smell of cinnamon. There were over one hundred bags of scented pine cones in the entrance area. To me, it smelled like Christmas and I breathed deep and smiled as I walked past. The kids relished the scent as well, but I thought how much my Mother would have hated that smell. She loves that craft store and I could just imagine her covering her nose and walking as quickly as she could past the scented pine cones.
Growing up my Mother never wore perfume. The smell gave her an enormous headache. She also had problems with scented candles and many other artificial smells. As I got older, if I wanted to wear perfume I had to spray it outside as I was leaving. The smell of fingernail polish never bothered my Mom, but it seemed to bother my Dad. My sister and I had to be sure to paint our nails outside or when Dad was not around.
I heard a realtor suggest once that the family selling the house should have cookies baking in the oven while the house was being shown in order to make the house cozier and more appealing to the potential buyer. Smells can set the mood for a holiday or bring back a memory. Perhaps they can bring assurance that one's house is clean or reassure a hungry husband that dinner is close! The odd thing about smells, I suppose, some people find them wonderful, stimulating, soothing, and relaxing, while another person can find them unpleasant and even revolting.
When I was pregnant with my first baby smells really seemed to bother me. I can remember getting really mad at my Hubby one day because he left a dirty plate with a large glob of ketchup sitting out on the table. The air had been turned off and the house shut up tight all day. When I walked in the door that night, the smell of hot, rotten tomato smacked me in the face. I held my pregnant belly and ran to the bathroom gagging. I laugh about it now, but that day it was all I could do to clean that plate and get the smell out of the house.
I love bacon! I love the smell of bacon cooking. I love my bacon crispy and my husband loves his bacon flimsy, but we both love bacon. The kids love bacon. The bad thing about bacon is once you spend time standing over a skillet cooking a pound of it – you smell like it. Your house smells like it, your clothes smell like it and your hair smells like it! All day long you smell like bacon.
I love the smell of bacon, but not as a perfume! The other day I was very aware of the fact that I smelled like bacon. For some reason I felt the need to explain to everyone I stood close to for the next few hours that I had cooked bacon that morning. I suppose it bothered some people while other people probably liked it.
Smell, fragrance, savor, aroma, odor – We as Christians put off one. Your life is an aroma. To some it is a good smell and to others it is a bad smell.
2 Corinthians 2:14-16(NIV)
But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to such a task?
Are you equal to the task? The rest of the passage says you are. This verse says you are. God uses Christians to spread the knowledge of Him. He leads us triumphantly!
I have been thinking lately a lot about these verses. How refreshing it is when I run into another Christian who is putting off the fragrance of life. I just want to stop and soak it up. I want to take a deep breath of their encouraging aroma.
But, I realize that the same smell I find so refreshing is the “smell of death” to others. The aroma has not changed; it is the “aroma of Christ”, but to the unsaved it smells bad. Realize that. Don't dilute it, don't change it and don't make an excuse for it. It is not a bad smell, it just smells like doom to those that are dying – to those that refuse to believe.
As you go about your everyday life, as you go about your errands and as you do your Thanksgiving shopping and your Christmas shopping – spread your fragrance – be the aroma of Christ. Some will rush on past with their nose covered, but some will stop and soak it up.
11月18日 To Blog or not to BlogI'm torn lately about blogging. Should I just blog for the sake of blogging or only blog when I have something thoughtful to say or something pressing on my mind? My blog started because I needed an outlet for my thoughts. I was ichin' to write. Now days it seems like there is so much day to day activity that I don't have time to think a thought much less put a thought provoking blog together. If I only blog when I have something thoughtful to say people get out of the habit of checking my blog and I get out of the habit of posting. I have discovered that both in town and out of town friends and family use my blog to keep in touch and keep up with my family. So maybe my blog should be about my day to day activities without any morale, higher thought, or warm fuzzy ending. Then again, maybe I am just being a lazy writer. On the other hand, I have to be careful what details I include in my blog because I never know who is reading or I do know who is reading and I can't write about certain situations because they would be offended. So here I sit...stuck...should I continue on into the details of my day or should I turn this post into something more significant. Significant to whom? Hmmm... Maybe I am starting to get somewhere... I guess I can take each day as my mood suits and you as readers can do the same. So really this ended with nothing new or revealing. 11月17日 The Old House I had to turn my house keys over this past weekend. I am so glad we have a renter, but it was harder than I thought it would be to hand her the key. I did sigh as I shut the door one last time. When Hubby and I first got married we rented a duplex, but this house was the first one we ever owned. We originally bought it with the intentions of making it a rental house, but we ended up staying there a lot longer than anticipated.
We moved in the week before Christmas. It needed new paint and new carpet and a few other small things we had to do first. It was so hectic that I just decorated a large plant with Christmas ornaments – no tree. Sissy and Bubba were too little to remember that now. A month after we moved in I became pregnant with Paddy. After 8 years there, I have many good memories!
But such is life, I guess. The passing of time and the way things go. It was a good house that served its purpose for the time, but the fact is we long ago out grew it. I praise God for his blessings and provision for my family. I hope our renter will find it as happy of a home as we did. 11月11日 Veteran's DayI counted 35 flags on my short trip to pick up the kids from school today, but none so moving as the one being taken down at the Elementary School. I think they are still learning not to let it touch the ground, but I loved that the children were participating.
I want to say thank you to all the veterans who have served their country and a special thank you to:
My Grandfather - Papa, My Brother - Andrew, My Grandfather in Law - Great Grandpa, Pa Pa Tom, Papa C and Uncle Jarvis, who have already passed, Hubby's Cousin Joe and
Richie, who I wish I knew was okay. Thank you from my heart! 11月9日 Excuses - A PoemExcuses By Theresa Richardson
Too busy to see you too busy for time too busy to call you or write you a line I miss you and think of you a thought here and there I do want to see you I want you aware You're a priority at the top of my list you're one of those friends that really is missed I know it's been awhile but I really am busy so much to do it makes me feel dizzy We used to talk daily We often were together I know you understand it won't be like this forever One day I'll have time I'll fit you in I'll make time for you if you're still my friend
Picture Perfect and Not So Picture PerfectPicture Perfect and...
After a warm bowl of homemade soup and the boys' showers are done, they plop in front of the fire for a friendly game of chess. It warms a mother's heart.
...Not So Picture Perfect!
The chore I hate the most - matching socks! I often let them pile up until nobody has any to wear. I spend an hour matching socks, vowing to never let them pile up again! 11月7日 Trees (Pictures by me, Poem is not)Trees
Joyce Kilmer
1886 - 1918
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth's flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
11月5日 My Grandmother's DiaryThis past Friday morning I accompanied my mother to see my grandfather. We did some work around his house for him which included cleaning under and behind some heavy furniture. Although my grandmother passed away 8 years ago,he ran into a few things he still needed to go through but had evidently been putting off or just simply forgotten about. My grandparents were married for over 50 years, meeting in high school and surviving years apart while he served in the Philippine Islands during World War II. Their love letters back and forth during that time period are sweet and moving. They were truly devoted to each other. In the last years my grandmother's illness grew to the point that she needed constant care. He never wavered in his devotion to her. Even when she no longer realized who he was or really that he was there at all; he spent countless hours by her bedside. He tended to her every need - real or imagined. Not only was our family touched by his love and loyalty, but the nursing staff was as well. It was Nicholas Spark's The Notebook in true life. I have always focused on what a great husband he was. I have always focused on his devotion to her. He set a high example for marriage and faithfulness. It is him I think about and look to as the strength of their relationship. He is the one that shines so brightly and he is the one who has set the standard. But this past Friday I got a different glimpse. It really is one that I had known all along but it had crept into the back corners of my mind. As a grown woman I needed this reminder that came this past Friday. I pulled a heavy box out of the bottom of the closet and held it for my grandfather to look through. His hand immediately shot out and grabbed a small old fashioned memo pad. "Betty's diary!” he exclaimed. He opened it up for me to see. She had written her name in the front along with the word “Private”. It was dated 1944. He opened to a page at random and let me read part of the short entry out loud before shutting it quickly. The entry was written while they were still in high school. He had walked her to school that day and she thought he was the most wonderful thing ever. He was emotional and set the diary aside. We finished looking through the box. Before I left, he opened it again to a different entry and read the whole thing aloud. It was a description of a date and evening spent together in each other's company. I teased him a little and my Mom, me and him all shared a good laugh. I wanted to read more. I wanted to read the whole thing, but dared not force the issue. We left a short time later, but the two short diary entries had made an impact.
Those entries written by her hand were full of so much love and devotion. She loved him and admired him. He was truly the best man she had ever known and she was not ashamed to declare it. I knew she felt that way. I had seen it in her life, her actions and conversation all my life. Her long, slow sickness had made that memory fade though. His devotion was clear and crisp in my mind, but I needed that reminder of hers. I needed that example of the wife's love. No wonder he was so devoted to her...how could he not be? How could he not be faithful in those last years when she had held him on a pedestal? She had recorded those thoughts and feelings as a ready reminder. Perhaps she had needed those reminders a time or two along the way or maybe not, but he held them in his fingertips and uttered them with his lips over 60 years later and they were as real as when she first wrote them. She left love letters and a diary declaring her never ending love for him and an example to me of a wife's complete and utter devotion to her husband. A wife so godly and devoted that on her deathbed she made her husband a hero. 11月2日 I may have voted for Garth BrooksEven though I was born in Nashville and have lived here all my life, I was a preteen before I realized that Nashville was known for being “Music City” and famous for country music. Aside from an occasional Hee Haw episode, I never really heard much country music in our home. There were the yearly trips to Orpyland, the local amusement park, but as a kid, it was all about the rides, not the shows. It was not until I traveled with my aunt to Wisconsin and Kansas that I began to realize what Nashville was known for. People would assume I loved country music or ask me about the stars. I had no interest in country music back then and actually despised the stereotype that all Nashvillians loved country music. I made fun of the twang. In my later teen years (1990's) something changed. A singer/song writer named Garth Brooks wrote and sang a few songs that got my attention. Before I knew it, I was drawn into country music. I became a fan. Funny that now I really prefer the older stuff though. The stuff I had always made fun of before. Living in Nashville, I have occasionally caught a glimpse of a famous country music singer (Not that we frequent many of the same places). I am one to give them their space and privacy, but that all changed this past week. Once we were back in our truck, I started belting out the words to Shameless which made my Hubby laugh. After that I started calling people on my cell phone. All my family and friends heard the details of my short conversation with country super star, Garth Brooks. My Hubby laughed at me again and again as I called person after person to share my exciting news! I've calmed down by now of course, but my meeting with Garth Brooks filled my conversation for the rest of the day. I even drop a word about it here and there just out of the blue to make my husband laugh. But it did make me think. Isaiah 43:1
11月1日 Technical DifficultiesIn case you have not noticed... I have not posted in awhile. My computer caught a virus. My brother in law had to help me fix my computer (really he did all the work) and it took me awhile to find the disc he needed. After unpacking the last few boxes, I was discouraged because the installation disc was still hiding somewhere. Days turned into weeks with no computer, but eventually I found it! Guess where? It was in my laptop carrying case - in a pocket right next to the sick computer. I have many pictures to upload and a few things eating at me to blog about, but the laundry is behind, the house needs cleaning, and my children need some Mom time. I do hope to squeeze in a few pictures today though. I can fold clothes while they upload! |
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