Okay, I've set my second New Year's Resolution. Each
end of the month I'll let you know how many mice
G'ma Opal annihilated during the previous 30/31
days.

December 2006--8 mice total.

If I forget, please remind me to give her a call. I
don't know if she makes marks on a sheet of paper, or
if she records the kills on her calendar, but she
sure 'nuff knows and will gleefully tell me.

It hits daily. Sometimes I am just more aware of
it than others.

My human nature is unbearably close to the surface.

My veneer of spirituality is terribly thin.

Psalm 51:6,7
Behold, Thou dost desire truth in the innermost being,
And in the hidden part Thou wilt make me know wisdom.
Purify me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

In and Around Mayberry

Overheard as G'ma Opal and Annie were playing cards
with Derrill and Kent, after Kent laid down an off
card: "I'm off," announced Kent. "You sure are off,"
shot back Granny.

Overheard as Philippine Sister was holding on tightly
to a careening car being driven by Philippine Sister's
mother through the big metropolis of Poplar Bluff: (This
one was said by said mother),"You girls have problems!"

My first resolution as I approach the New Year-Remember
to thank God for laughter.

A few weeks ago I came across an article about
Jacob Bernoulli. He, of course, is a famous
mathemetician. He had engraved on his tombstone
what I want engraved on mine. If you want to
make your own tombstone click on the one above.

Tip of the bonnet to Carmen.

Philippine Sister and her family are in Mayberry for
several days. Today Derrill, Becky (PS), niece Annie,
Kent and I headed down the gravel to visit G'ma Opal.
What a time we had.

"What felicity," thought I. "G'ma always cooks for Phil.
Sis. and family, and since we are with them maybe we'll
come in for a share of it." Oh wonderful life to not
disappoint me when I ask so little of it. When Kent and
I got there (the others had gone on ahead), G'ma had a
pumpkin pie in the oven and a roast in the crockpot. She
was already embroiled in a game of High Five as these
delicacies were merrily bubbling and creating delectable
odors. She won. That put her in a good mood so she gave
up her seat at the card table and began to peel potatoes.
I volunteered to help, but, no, she didn't need my help.

The potatoes went in a pot. Some carrots went into another
pot. Then she sat down to play another game. My stomach
was beginning to feel a little empty. The roast was already
done, I'd sneaked a peek at it. The potatoes were softening
nicely; I was babysitting them to keep them from boiling over.
The carrots were looking good. But the game was far from
over. It looked for a time as if the girls would win (G'ma
and Becky). My insides were decidedly uncomfortable now.
The pie came out of the oven, but the game raged on. The boys
(Kent and Derrill) took the lead, things were beginning to
look bleak. We must keep G'ma in a good mood! I was also
eyeing the made-from-scratch cake with chocolate icing that
was sitting on the counter. Then with a final turning of the
tide, the girls won...Grandma was happy.

Quickly we mashed the taters, mixed gravy into the carrots,
opened up a jar of homemade dilly pickles, opened another of
pickled beets, pulled out some homemade cherry jelly, set
the meat, potatoes, carrots, and bread on the table, and
joined hands in the living room for prayer.

Oh, it was good.

Pretty good for a 96 year old. A feast and a double win
at cards all on the same morning. What more can a girl
ask for?

And, in case you are wondering which dessert I chose, I had
a small piece of each.

You know your children are growing up when you
have to wake them up on Christmas morning.


You know your children are growing up when they
look like this after they've been awakened.




















And here is an extra bonus of our Christmas Elf
reading the Christmas story before gift opening.

Here is a fun story about a family named Christmas.

Tip of the hat to Amy.

Immanuel

God with us.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas Cheer:

What do you call people who are afraid of Santa?
Claustrophobic

What do you get when you cross a shark and snow?
Sharkbite

Where do you find reindeer?
Where you left them.

What do reindeer have that nothing else has?
Baby reindeer.

Why was Santa's little helper sad?
He had low elf-esteem.

Yesterday we birthday partied for my oldest son Joel.
He turned 23 on Friday, but we held off the celebration
till Saturday. Joel has had to fight his way through
life, but he has done so with a heart that is 100%
given over to Christ. His whole life is a journey of
discovery. He surrendered to the love of God when he
was a young boy, and since then his main question has
always been, "Okay, Christ is my Savior, now what does
that mean for my life? What does it mean to be a
Christian?" His faith is far deeper than almost anyone
else I know.

Happy birthday to the son who as a four year old, trying
to pick up the vacuum cleaner, with a cape on, said in a roar,
"I am Superman, I am Mighty Mouse, I am the Word of God!"
And then, with a sheepish look, and a much quieter voice,
squeaked out, "Mom, can you help me?"

This is fascinating. It shows the history of
world religion in 90 seconds.

Tip of the hat to Challies.

The epistles are chock full of God's life-giving
message. They are also strung throughout with
wonderful blessings. I love to tiptoe into my
children's rooms at night right when they are
hovering between wakefulness and sleep and leave
them with a blessing to ponder.

Colossians 4:5,6 adapts beautifully to such an
end. Here is my adaptation of these verses and
newest blessing for my crew.

May you walk in wisdom in the world, may you
redeem the time, and may your speech be filled
with grace.

One reason I like blogging is that it causes me
to slow down and think a little more deeply. My
tendency is to have an idea burst upon me, usually
in my reading, and say to myself, "Wow! What an
incredible idea," and then move on to the next
item on my to do list, folding clothes or whatever
it may be. Often I will think, "Such and such an
idea relates to this verse I read here, and to this
other idea I came across there...," and this all
makes a lightning quick connection in my brain
and then it all dissipates into the reality of
everyday needs of the moment, such as, what meat
should I thaw for dinner?

One of those connectings has been rolling
around a lot lately and here is my stab at
pulling it all together.

I am in the midst of a wonderful book called,
In the Steps of Moses, by Louis Golding. He is
attempting to follow in the steps of Moses beginning
with his birth and going straight through to his
death. After coming up to Mt. Sinai and climbing
it Golding makes the following observations:

"We had made a journey between the Nile and Mount
Sinai in the steps of Moses the Lawgiver. We were
setting out that day on a journey between Mount
Sinai and the Jordan in the steps of Moses the
Conqueror. It was not the second part of a journey
we were making, but a new journey, different in mood,
with different fellow-travellers....We had till this
moment of departure from Sinai been engaged upon an
Exodus, fugitives from the terror of Pharaoh....But
now, now that we were moving forward from Sinai, we
were not a rabble of fugitives any more. A great
thing had happened to us, no greater has ever
happened to any host of men. We were a People....
We were bound together by a Covenant....The Exodus
of a rabble was over. The Advance of a People
towards its pomised heritage was about to begin."

Psalm 114:1,2 says:
When Israel went out of Egypt,
The house of Jacob from a people of strange language,
Judah became His sanctuary,
And Israel His dominion.

So, God began to dwell with His people, and His people
were the called out ones. The Tabernacle and the
Temple were symbols that He was with them. They
showed that He was in their midst.

And then God goes further, He has Isaiah pen the
following promise in Isaiah 7:14:
Therefore the Lord Himself will give you a sign:
Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a Son,
and shall call His name Immanuel.

And, of course, that came about in the fullness of
time and Matthew 1:22,23 reports:
So all this was done that it might be fulfilled which
was spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying:
"Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a
Son, and they shall call His name Immanuel," which
is translated, "God with us."

No longer would they need the symbols of Tabernacle or
Temple. No longer would God's People need to
picture the presence of God. Now they had
Immanuel in the flesh. God was with them. This
is the picture I carry with me through the
Christmas season.

God with His people. No longer a symbol; no longer
a picture of God, but God Himself with them.

God with His called out ones.

Immanuel.

And now we are on a journey. A new journey. A journey
that is like none before it. It is like none other
because the People on this journey are from every
tribe and tongue and people and nation (Revelation 5:9).
And this journey will lead us straight to the Throne
of God.

It will lead us straight to our Immanuel.

Then, not only will we have God with us, we will be with
God.

Principled Discovery has posted a yummy looking
week short of a year Carnival of Homeschooling.
Hop over for some great reads.

Our biggest dilemma these days is whether or not
we will start a fire. If it is in the 60's as it
was last week then using the wood furnace means you
will have to open all the windows and doors. The
house quickly develops a tropical heat level. If
it is in the 4o's or below the wood furnace is
perfect and makes the house quite cozy. But this
week is in the 50's. That means it is not quite
cold enough for the wood furnace, probably it will
quickly become 80 in the house (as it feels right
now), but it is really too cool to run just the
electric heat, since we are such cheapies and will
only set the temp at 68. Oh, what to do, what to
do?

While you are helping us make this decision, here
are some fun and some thoughtful links to Christmas
Joy.

Here is a Christmas I Corinthians 13 for Busy Moms. Hat-tip to Chrysalis who gave a hat-tip to Crikl's Nest.


If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows,
strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls,
but do not show love to my family,
I'm just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen,
baking dozens of Christmas cookies,
preparing gourmet meals and arranging
a beautifully adorned table at mealtime,
but do not show love to my family,
I'm just another cook.

If I work at the soup kitchen,
carol in the nursing home and give
all that I have to charity,
but do not show love to my family,
it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels
and crocheted snowflakes,
attend a myriad of holiday parties
and sing in the choir's cantata
but do not focus on Christ,
I have missed the point.

Love stops the cooking to hug the child.
Love sets aside the decorating to
kiss the husband.
Love is kind, though harried and tired.
Love doesn't envy another's home that has
coordinated Christmas china and table linens.
Love doesn't yell at the kids to get out
of the way.
Love doesn't give only to those who are able
to give in return but rejoices in giving to
those who can't.
Love bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails.
Video games will break, pearl necklaces
will be lost, golf clubs will rust.
But giving the gift of love will endure!

Tammy at Family Doin's has a fun remake of
Clement C. Moore's famous poem.

And finally, this Advent Calender must have been
made with Mayberry in mind.

I had to go past the first three definitions of
"tradition" to get to the one I usually mean when
I use the word. That is interesting. The first
meaning listed is an obsolete one and is: a
surrender or betrayal. But, this is a rabbit
trail and not at all what was first intended when
I began this post. Dictionaries are dangerous in
such ways.

When I use the word I use it the way the fourth
definition lists it.

Tradition-n. (a surrender, delivery, tradition).
4. a long-established custom or practice having
the effect of precedent or unwritten law.

Traditions are comforting. They let you know where
you stand and what is expected of you. They can
enter with you into the unfamiliar and keep you
stayed because you have a familiar routine to be
repeated. They help define you.

And yet, traditions are fluid, they must be, if not
we would still be living as our parents did 6000
years ago. Change is not bad. Of course, it is not
always good either. Change is amoral, it is the
what and the how things are changing that is either
bad or good.

There are many things that were tradition at one time
in my family's life that no longer are. And there
are traditions that were unknown years ago that have
come to be. How, with the adding of people into the
family and the loss of others could this not be? How,
with movings and growings up and growings old could
things always stay the same?

One tradition that has come to be with my children is
a Christmas one. Every year when they were younger
I very carefully chose an ornament to give each one of
them. These were intended to be the beginning of their
own collection when they were grown and on their own.
No longer do I do this. It is not because I don't like
ornaments, nor is it that I am against decorating for the
holidays. It is because I don't need to. They each
have an ornament collection that is out of this world.
Well, maybe not exactly out of this world, but it is
definitely a world ornament collection.

My Father and Mother-in-law do a lot of traveling, and
it is their tradition, wherever they go, to buy an
ornament for each of their grandchildren. My children
have ornaments from Russia, Sweden, Denmark, Finland,
Estonia, Norway, France, Spain, Ireland, England, Italy,
Germany, Canada, Mexico, Poland, and many of the states
in the US. You can always tell how much traveling they
did during the year by the number of ornments the grand-
kids receive. Last year each one got 10 or so. This
year they each received only one; it is a beautiful
little drum from Williamsburg,VA.

I love hanging their ornaments every year. It is a
reminder that the gospel is for the whole world not
just my little corner of it.

However, this year, with our little tree, and the huge
number of ornaments, over 2/3 had to stay packed away.
I guess that is the start of a new tradition; we'll have
to rotate using the ornaments until my children are
grown and move out taking their ornaments with them.
Then once again both they and we will have to start
building a new tradition.

Who would've thought that here in the very deeps
of December it would be...balmy.

Yesterday was a typical morning on the farm.

Translation: hassles.

We were up at the crack of dawn. That is such
a energetic thing to say. Actually we just like
getting up at the crack of dawn. And, why is it
called the "crack of dawn"? That sounds so
dramatic and harsh. Dawn really comes traipsing
in so softly and lightly that it is there before
you quite realize it.

We were up at the dawning of the day. Kent was
studying and I was baking for a neighbor who lost
a young baby this week to pneumonia. Kent went
out to hang some new hay feeders we bought this
week. He wants to spread out the 11 bovine mouths
we have to feed. When he went out, though, he saw
we had a major problem. A cow had gotten her foot
stuck through the slats of a metal chicken roost
that was in the barn. She was banging and clanging
around like a mad thing. So, Mr. Farmer asked for
Mrs. Farmer to come out and help him, as though I
can do anything with an insane cow.

I foolishly tiptoed through the muck and other
unmentionables to the barn in my nice clothes and
good shoes. "Laurie, we've got a major problem,"
said the farmer to his wife." I could see that.
The stuck cow just happened to be one of our
wilder cows. "Okay, I'll go get some feed."
That is my answer to everything. Feed them,
they'll feel better and so will I.

As I was turning to go, the farmer said, "And get
some boots on, you crazy woman." (Well, those weren't
his exact words, but I can read between the lines
as well as the next person.)

I decided to change shoes and pants and by the time
I got back out there the foolish cow had banged and
clanged her way to freedom. So, now all that was
left was to hang the new feeders. That took some
ingenuity, but Kent is full of that, so they got
hung in due time.

There is no better sight than the sun slanting
in the door of the barn while hay dust is sifting
throuh the shafts of sunlight; and there is no
better feeling than watching that dust dance in
the air while you are standing in the barn on a
balmy December day.

Of, course, there is still the muck and other un-
mentionables to be gotten off the good shoes. A good
walk down the gravel does wonders to clean off
shoes, though.

Life is good. Farm Life is good. Most of all God is
good.

Only in Mayberry...

Yesterday Grandma Opal called to ask me if anyone
in my family was going to town. She had been the
day before and had bought a cord at True Value
to try and fix a lamp of hers. But, she went
off and left the cord laying on the counter at
the store. So, if we were going to town could
we pick it up for her, please.

"No," I replied to her, "no one is going to town."

However, a friend from church works at True Value,
and it was Wednesday, that means Wednesday Night
church. "Grandma," I said, "I could call True Value
and ask Danny to bring the cord to church and drop
it by your house later, Grandma."

"No, that would be too much trouble," replied G.Opal,
"I went to town yesterday and it would be too much
good luck to get to go again today. That's why I
called to see if any of you were going."

"Well," Laurie again here, "I am for sure going to
town tomorrow, I'll get it then."

"Okay."

Fast forward a few hours. We are sitting in the
sanctuary admiring the work the men have done on the
stage during the last few hours as we prepare for
the Christmas Program. I look over at Danny and
say, "Oh, Danny, my Grandma bought something from
True Value yesterday and left it."

Danny's reply, "I meant to bring that tonight, but
I forgot."

I saiy, "I'll get it tomorrow when I'm in town."

Danny, "Yes, but your Grandma hasn't been able to
get to work on her lamp yet."

Just a little snippet, but I am always reminded of the
connectedness there is in small town life.

And I am still wondering, just what is it G. Opal is
doing to her lamp?

My heart's cry:

O Lord,
I have a wild heart,
and cannot stand before thee;
I am like a bird before a man.
How little I love thy truth and ways!
(The Valley of Vision)

My heart's prayer:

Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or
conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem
others better than himself. Let each of you (me) look
out not only for his own interests, but also for
the interests of others.

Let this mind be in you (me) which was also in Christ
Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not
consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made
Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a
bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men.
(Philippians 2:3-7)

Slowly I am reading through a book titled In the Steps
of Moses. It is written by Louis Golding. After I
finish it, I will write a complete review, but I have
come to love this book. It was given to me by a friend
to read quite some time ago, and I just kept it on the
bottom of my pile of books because, well, it didn't
look very interesting. So, when I finally pulled it up
off the pile, I thought I would just skim through it like
a speed-demon and then hand it back with a smile and a
"Thank you". That was the plan. Then I began to skim;
then I began to read; and then I began to enjoy it greatly.

I just want to whet your appetite by giving you a small
dose of what it is about this book that is so enticing.

Get a whiff of this...

"But where was I? What had Moses, what had I, to do with
this piscine imbroglio?" (You get ten points if you can
tell what piscine imbroglio means without looking it up.
I couldn't.)

Or try this one on...

"It impressed itself on our memory, for it was our introduction
to the great national pastime of Transjordan, whispering,
murmuring, scheming, whispering, murmuring....It does not matter
what race they spring from, what their professions are; when
two Transjordanians get together they put their heads close
and start murmurng, Arabs of the villages, Beduin of the desert,
British soldiers, Italian missionaries. Transjordan is one
vast whispering-gallery."

Oh, in case you're wondering about piscine imbroglio, here's the
scoop.

Piscene-having to do with fish (I should have know...Pisces
is The Fish.)
Imbroglio-a confused heap; a confusing situation.

So-A confused heap of a fish situation. It makes sense in the
flow of the book. Guess you'll just have to read it for
yourself.

There are two boarding homes and one nursing home
in Mayberry. We are on a rotating schedule with
the other Mayberry churches to provide Sunday afternoon
services to the people in these homes. About once a
month we are on the schedule, and yesterday was one
of those days.

Teasingly I have spoken of our Special Little Christmas
Tree. Yesterday at the boarding home there was one of
those spectacularly gorgeous trees. It was probably twice as
tall as I am, and dazzingly decorated in red and gold and
white. The lady responsible for decorating the tree came
through the room we were in and I complemented her on the
beauty before me. That woman just drips creativity from
every pore. I wanted to follow behind her and stand in one
of the puddles and splash in it for awhile.

Our Special Tree is simply decorated. We didn't buy any
new decorations this year. We didn't spend any time thinking
of new things to create to add to the ambiance of the tree.
We just cut it down, put a few lights on it, and then hung as
many ornaments as we could without making it look overloaded.
That is about the limit of what I could do, but we love our
tree!

Okay, I am not making a distinction, necessarily, between much
and little. I thought their tree was tremendous. I think our
tree is terrific. I am making a point about what is fitting
and right. I am making a point about contentment. There is a
lesson to be learned about meeting the need of the moment and
then moving on to the next job. There is a lesson about using
the gifts God has blessed one with and not being dissatisfied
with what is beyond one's ability. There is richness to be
found in the exact life God has surrounded me with and my
part is to enjoy that richness and to seek for ways to make
it more right and fitting for my family.

I want to bring together the following items. I think I
will just list them and you see if they make any sort of
connecting sense to you.

1. This article by Challies on the gifts of the Spirit,
with an emphasis on looking around and seeing what needs
to be done and doing it.

2. This article by Amy (Amy's Humble Musings) where she
quotes Elizabeth Elliot in saying, "Just do the next
thing." (I apologize, I can't get the exact article alone on
this. Just scroll on her page to the article titled EE put
put to the test.)

3. Colossians 3:23--And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to
the Lord and not to men.

Was that nice, do you think, for Grandma Opal to
point her finger at Kent and say, "I do not like
you!"?? The fact that he was creaming her in
Rummy should not matter to someone who is the mature
age of 96. Nor should the fact that he had just
scooped up the very cards she had her eyes on mean
anything at all. Anyway, she came in second, and
that was out of six players. Not too bad, Granny,
but better luck next time.

You may be wondering just how little our Special
Christmas Tree really is. I'll tell you.
















Robert Barry is the author of a wonderful children's
Christmas book called Mr. Willowby's Christmas Tree.
I still have the copy of this that I had as a child.
Mr. Willowby gets an enormous tree for his home, but
it is a little too large and so they chop off the top
and throw it out. The butler then takes the top and
presents it to the maid, but it is again too tall
for the spot she has picked out and so--off with the
top. The gardener finds the little tree in the trash
and takes it to Mrs. Gardener, but once again it is
too tall, so "off with your head". This continues
on through a bear, a fox, some rabbits and finally
the tippy-top ends up in the little mousehole of
Mistletoe Mouse who just happens to live in the
large home of Mr. Willowby himself.

It is a delightful book. My tree is about the size
of Mr. Willowby's tree after it arrives at the
home of the bears. Not quite small enough for the
mantle (assuming we had one, which we don't), but
not even close to touching the ceiling as Mr. Willowby's
tree does.

It comes about up to my chin. It is adorable!

The gospel is an offense to a dark world. The good
news that brings such joy to the Christian is a stench
in the nostrils of those who reject it.

I Peter 2:6-8 conains partial quotes from Isaiah 8:14
and Isaiah 28:16.

Therefore it is also contained in the Scripture,
"Behold, I lay in Zion
A chief cornerstone, elect, precious,
And he who believes on Him
will by no means be put to shame."Therefore, to you who believe, He is precious; but
to those who are disobedient,
"The stone which the builders rejected
Has become the chief cornerstone." and
"A stone of stumbling and a rock of offense."

Jesus, Himself, recognized he was an offense to the
pride of many people around Him.

Matthew 13:57 tells us this.

So they were offended at Him.

Jesus asked His disciples in John 6:61, after speaking
to them about the ramifications of His death.

"Does this offend you?"

Paul speaks to this also in Galatians 5:11. He says:

And I, brethren, if I still preach circumcision, why
do I still suffer persecution? Then the offense of
the cross has ceased.

There are several reasons the gospel is an offense.
The main one is the pride of man. Man does not want
to admit that he is unable to be good. He does not
want to have to lay himself down prostrate before
a holy God and say, "I am nothing; You are all."

But...

Just because the message we, as Christians, bring to
the world is offensive to them, it does not mean that
we are to be offensive. Our part is to be gracious
and loving. Our part is to look for opportunities
to shed a word of truth (hard truth though it may be)
in a manner that is calculated to be pleasing. Let
the world be offended by that truth if they will, but
may they not be offended by an ungracious or prideful
attitude in me, the messenger. This is not to say
Christians need to look and act like the world. But,
it is to say that we need to portray the message of
salvation with grace, dignity and love.

Paul understood the Gospel would offend many of those
to whom he presented it. Yet, that did not stop him
from penning the following words in I Corinthians 10
verses 19-22.

For though I am free from all men, I have made
myself a servant to all, that I might win the
more; and to the Jews I became as a Jew, that
I might win the Jews; to those who are under
the law, as under the law, that I might win
those who are under the law; to those who are
without law, as without law (not being without
law toward God, but under law toward Christ),
that I might win those who are without law;
to the weak I became as weak, that I might
win the weak. I have become all things to
all men, that I might by all means save some.

So, we are to be an unoffensive people presenting
a message of great offense.

This week I read The Pearl by John Steinbeck.
I imagined a reporter coming to me to interview
me on my take on this book.

Q. So, in a technical sense, was this a well
written book?
A. It was written by John Steinbeck, so the
answer is "yes". (What a riduculous question.)

Q. Can you summarize this book, so I'll know
what it is all about?
A. Sure. It is based on a Mexican folk legend.
A poor villager is in desperate need of help
from the local doctor. He goes pearl diving to
try and find enough pearls for cash to pay the
doctor. He finds the Pearl of the World.
It is amazing. It sings to him of hope and of unheard
possibiliies. But from the moment of finding it
only evil things come into the man's life.
Finally the most evil thing of all happens and
he throws the Pearl of the World back into the
bosom of the sea.

Q. Hmmm. What would you say, in general is the
mood of this book?
A. This is Steinbeck we're talking about. The mood
is sad and depressing.

Q. Then is there no hope in this book.
A. Actually at the end of the book, there is a
paragraph that speaks to some hope. If it wasn't
there, if there were no redemption of any kind,
it would be an impossibility for the mind to
absorb this book. It is a long paragraph and I
will only give you the last few sentences for
your article.

The people say the two seemed to be removed from
human experience; that they had gone through pain
and had come out on the other side; that there was
almost a magical protection about them. And those
people who had rushed to see them crowded back and
let them pass and did not speak to them.

Now if you'll excuse me I've got clothes to wash
and breakfast to cook. This interview is at an
end.

Family News in a Very Random Order

1. Yesterday, as I was in Mayberry ringing the
Salvation Army Bell, Princess Daughter was at home
making cookies. Usually she rings the bell
with me. Actually, it is strategic for her to
come with me (who can resist an adorable little
person ringing the SA Bell) and on top of that
she loves to do it. But right now she has a
cold and a cough (that reminds me of when I was
in the Philippines and my friends would say, "I
have coughs and colds") and I didn't want her
standing in the cold for an hour.

She made Christmas Nut Cookies out of The Pooh
Cook Book and they are delicious. It was a new
recipe to me. She loves reading through recipes
and was thrilled to find one that had all the
ingredients she needed.

2. The Christmas Tree tradition at our house, since
we moved to Mayberry, is for Kent and some or all of
the kids to go out and about either on our or my parent's
property and cut down a tree. Usually they look for
the biggest, most beautiful tree they can find and
it takes a lot of looking and debating until one is
chosen.

This year Kent had a different idea. He went, with
Billy and Hattie, back onto the property. My dad
and Uncle Jim joined them for the adventure. When
they came back they had a beautifully proportioned
little cedar tree. Did I say little? I meant it.
This gorgeous tree is shorter than I am. Wow! This
may be the first year the pile of presents is taller
than the tree, and I do not go overboard on presents.
We set it up, which was a challenge being as little
as it is, and then we strung on a single strand of
lights. We hung both ornaments on it (just kidding,
we hung quite a few) and put the angel on top. Of
course we had to use a different angel. The usual
lighted one was too heavy. It is beautiful and fun.
Oh, and short, did I mention that yet?

3. In their spare time from cooking and tree cutting
down Kent and Hattie are practising. He is teaching
her his favorite dance step. We have a niece getting
married in the spring and they want to be ready. He
has tried to teach it to me for over 24 years now, but
alas, not only can I not sing, I also have no rhythm. I thought
maybe the two were tied together, but then I remembered
that Philippine sister sings as abysmally as I do yet
she has great rhythm. Oh well, Princess Daughter gets
her lovely singing voice and rhythm from Kent, but she
gets her cooking ability from me.

A Tale of a Modern Day Homesteader

(I started to title this News From the Homestead,
and I was going to write about our special Christmas
Tree this year, but then I thought some people
might be interested in the small tale of
some modern day homesteaders, and I got distracted
from my original intent. Perhaps I'll continue
this tale of a Modern Day Homesteader in install-
ments and post on a different post about our
Special Christmas Tree. Yes, indeedy, I think that
is what I'll do.)

Really there is some truth to the word "homestead" for
our famiy. When we first came to Mayberry we lived
with my dear folks for about 8 months. We are a loud
family and drove them bananas, but they handled it with
love and grace.

We had some property down the gravel from my folks; it
was a lovely spot, but had nothing on it except about 20
acres of overgrown field and 20 acres of woods. Oh, and
of course, the two ponds, one good-size at the joining
of the field and the woods and one little one up-close
to the road.

I lie, there was an old house, an old barn and two or
three old sheds, but nothing suitable for us to use as a
dwelling. After looking at all the options we decided
to buy a re-built mobile home and pull it onto the property.

It is so easy to talk of these things and so difficult to
accomplish them. There was no driveway, no water, no
electricity, no septic, ARGH! I often wished, in those
days, that we could have bought the place after it had
been lived on for 10 years, but then we wouldn't have
been able to afford it.

I have some pictures to post from those early days, but my
computery son is in the Big City gaining much university
knowledge and I am tussleling hopelessly with the scanner.
I'll post them when I can and continue the saga at a later
date.

The best laid plans of mice and men...

Poor Billy, stuck at the Metro Station at Wash U
last night because the trains quit running due
to the nasty weather.

Blessed Billy, to have such a good Opa that would
leave his warm nest in Weldon Springs to drive all
the way to the Big City to pick up the stranded boy.

Grateful Billy, to have a cell phone to call his Opa
and to while away the time calling friends and family,
from the cold, open-to-the-weather station, as he waited
for over an hour for help to arrive.

Chrysalis in a comment on this post asked me a
question about English Literature. I am no great
expert on this genre, but I have always enjoyed
English writers. There is a steadiness and rooted-
ness that makes one feel at home. (And of course
they make me hungry for cucumber sandwiches and
tea with cream.)

Here is a list of English writers I have read and
truly enjoyed.

Rudyard Kipling (My veriest most favorite are
the Just So Stories...great read-
alouds)
Charlotte Bronte (Dark and gloomy)
Emily Bronte (I'm ready to re-read Jane Eyre as soon
as I get to the last page)
Jane Austin (Who doesn't love the flow of conversation
in her books?)
Dorothy Sayers (Lord Peter Wimsey is phenomenal, she
also wrote apologetics, but I've not
read any)
Miss Read (The penultimate in picturing village life)
Dame Agatha Christie (Mystery writer extraordinaire)
Charle Dickens (From Great Expectations to A Tale of
Two Cities he shines)
Shakespeare ('nuff said)
C.S. Lewis (I love both his fiction and non-fiction,
try out his Space Trilogy for a new twist)
J.R.R. Tolkein (I've been a fan of his for about 30 years,
it's a good thing I can't remember who I
lent the Silmarillion to, because I might
never have forgiven them for not giving it
back)
George McDonald (His romances and his children's books are
good)
A.A. Milne (I love his poetry books for children, as well
as the Winnie the Pooh books)
James Herriot (He has probably caused more people to become
veterinarians than anyone else)
G.K Chesterton (Mystery and apologetics)
Beatrix Potter (Silly rabbit!)
Edward Lear (Nonsense anyone?)
Lewis Carrol (Everybody needs a dose of Alice)
Robert Lewis Stevenson (Adventure, poetry, he does it all)
Arthur Conan Doyle (Sherlock Holmes to the rescue)
Baroness Orczy (The Scarlet Pimpernel...amazing story)
John Bunyan (Pilgrim's Progress)

I can't even begin to list them all; I see I've almost
totally negelected the poets: William Blake, Robert Burns,
Wordsworth, Shelly, Tennyson etc.

Here is a very comprehensive list of English Writers.

Recently Kent and I watched the Lou Gehrig Story
starring Gary Cooper. It is certainly a very
heartrending film. We both were teary-eyed at the
end when Lou and his wife were trying to be brave for
each other.

But after the movie was over I felt cheated, let down...
and empty. The feeling haunted me some and finally I
was able to pin down the reason for it. With no reference
to the Creator and Sustainer of life, all you had was a
movie about a "nice" guy. And after it was all said and
done, all you had at the end was a "nice" guy who had died.

Chrysalis has a wonderful post on what it takes to make
literature great and worth our time to read. Quoting
Kathleen Nielson Chrysalis says that there are three parts
to great literature (and I think great movies as well.)
They are:
1. We create words (and movies) because we are created
in God's image.
2. In great books (and movies) we encounter the depth
of the fall.
3. The best books (and movies) reflect a redemptive
worldview. This is I think crucial. She says
I’m not talking about a happy ending, but about
a sense of the restoration of something lost,
even if that sense is only a haunting one.

All of this brings me finally, to the true reason I am writing
this post...a book review of Ambassador to the Penguins: A
Naturalist's Year Aboard a Yankee Whaleship by Eleanor Mathews.

What an interesting twist this biography has. Robert Murphy, a
naturalist and museum curator is given the opportunity to travel
on a whaleship to the far south for the purpose of studying
wildlife, with a special concentration on penguins. However he
is engaged to be married and so turns the opportunity down.
Grace, his financee, insists on him grasping the chance he has
been offered. They marry ahead of time and he leaves within a
few months of the wedding for a year long trip on an old time
Yankee Ship.

Murphy's actual diary was published many years ago, as was a book
of photos he took, but in this book, his grand-daughter has taken
the two previous books and combined them into a nice narrative.

Murphy is never tired of watching, catching and preserving the
teeming wildlife, especially the birds, by which he is surrounded.
His time on the ship give a good picture of what life was like on
an whaling operation. The skipper is quite the typical taciturn
sailor, but he has an interesting personality facet. He will not
allow any cursing by the men on the boat, but when he, himself,
gets riled...watch out!

Mostly the book is a love story between Murphy and his beloved
and greatly missed bride. It is filled with snippets from their
letters to each other and from the posts in his diary. It is a
lovely book.

And yet, I can't help but wish he could have turned his thoughts
as the Psalmist did in Psalm 104:24-31 toward the Creator.

O Lord, how manifold are Your works!
In wisdom You have made them all.
The earth is full of Your possessions--
This great and wide sea,
In which are innumerable teeming things,
Living things both small and great.
There the ships sail about;
There is that Leviathan
Which You have made to play there.
These all wait for You,
That You may give them their good in due season.
What You give them they gather in;
You open Your hand, they are filled with good.
You hide Your face, they are troubled;
You take away their breath,
They die and return to their dust.
You send forth Your Spirit, they are created;
And You renew the face of the earth.
May the glory of the Lord endure forever;
May the Lord rejoice in His works.

Oscar and Sylvia
dancing at the
Torre Fuerte
Fiesta












The very air itself is aquiver with excitement
here in Mayberry. It is semi-official that our
dear friend, Oscar Gonzalez, from Cuernavaca
will be with us the first week of January.

When our Mexico Mission Team was in Cuernavaca
this past July, Oscar was our guide and
translator. We rather exhausted him in the
translation department. Sometimes after a
church service you could see the tiredness in
his eyes. He would have to translate the entire
service from English to Spanish, and from Spanish
to English, depending on who was speaking at the
moment. And then all along the way we were always
calling for Oscar to come over and translate for
us as we tried to communicate with the ladies
who worked at Chula Vista (the mission we stayed
in), ordered food at restaurants, or chatted with
our friends at Torre Fuerte church.

But Oscar let the love of Christ show through him
at all times. He exuded grace and dignity and
a wicked sense of humor. Our whole group loves
him, and that is not flippantly said. From Hattie,
through the teens and middle agers (Kent and I are
included in that group)to my Hobbit mother (who
will call him Carlos by mistake...told you
she's a hoot), we consider him our dear friend.

We are only sorry that Sylvia and Eunice, his wife
and daughter are not able to come with him.

What a lovely way to start a new year, with a dear
friend in Christ.

Oh, Oscar had only one request for his time here
in Mayberry. He asked for NO VEGETABLES.

So I am going to honor his request. I sent him back
the following menu:
Monday---Asparagus
Tuesday---Green beans
Wednesday---Cabbage and broccoli
Thursday---Brussel sprouts
Friday---Beets and cauliflower
Saturday---Sweet potatoes
Sunday---Vegetable soup.

I Guess Oscar will like it! If he doesn't, I'll
send ol' Carlos down the gravel to my mother's
house.

This will surely get you in the Christmas mood.
Enjoy!

Strolling down the gravel on a lovely fall day a few
weeks ago I was imagining what it would be like to
be blind. I was trying to take mental snapshots of
all the beauty around me so that if I ever were to
lose my sight I would be able to pull up the pictures
and enjoy them from memory.

Then, because I am built to look for object lessons, I
began to think of Princess Daughter and what I could
teach her from this train of thought.

Princess Daughter is a lovely little girl. In fact, I think she
is beautiful. But beauty is very fleeting. It changes definition
with every new commercial.

If I were blind, I would not be able to see her pretty self, but
I would still be able to hear whether or not Hattie had inner
beauty by listening to the way she talked. I could catch the
tone of her voice; I would be able to judge her attitude and
words to see if she was filled with a loveliness that is fulfilling
and lasting.

And so, after I got home, I talked to her about these things.
I let her know that it is the eternal that she needs to be
developing most of all. I reminded her of I Peter 3:3,4.

Do not let your adornment be merely outward--
arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on
fine apparel--rather let it be the hidden person
of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of
a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious
in the sight of God.

Did it sink in? Maybe not yet, but she is still a young and
very moldable piece of clay in the Maker's hands. And I think,
just maybe, as she is hanging upside down from a branch 20
feet up, these things come into her little mind from time to time
and she ponders them. Cute little monkey.

You know you live in Mayberry when the folks at
the local tire joint hang around and discuss the local
gossip for ten minutes AFTER their car is ready to
roll.

Overheard by me; said by Kent.

"Laurie, please don't sing that song right now,
I don't want to get in a bad habit by learning
the wrong tune."

Shocked silence...riotous laughter.

Somewhere in the middle of spending a delightful Thanksgiving
Holiday in the Big City my Darling Mother-In-Law made the
following comment:

"Well I guess I'm just thankful God didn't put our noses on
upside down. Just think, your hat would blow off when you
sneezed and when it rained you would drown."

Just put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Who would imagine that here near the end of November
Grandma Opal would still be picking lettuce out of her
garden. She brought a home-grown lettuce salad to the
party last night. (It was to go along with the Pumpkin Pie
she baked.)

Paul told Timothy to not look down on his youth. Turn
that around and it is just as true. We should not look down
on what is further along in life.

There are delightful surprises that are dropped down into
our 70's, 80's and even 90's...maybe 100's. And beyond that,
we can't retire from serving God. I look at my and Kent's
parents and am so thankful. All are in their 70's. Three are
closer to 80 than 70 and all are active in their service to the
Lord. They teach, they fellowship, they work at the "little
jobs", they even go on mission trips. What a heritage for their
children, grand-children and future generations. May I be
as they are in the Autumn of my life.

Tyler is now an official 17 year old. His birthday party
went off without a hitch...except I cooked the noodles
too long for the Pasta with Blue Cheese Artichoke Sauce.
I do hate mealy pasta.

The two Hatties (ages 9 and 96) made pies. (Grandma
Opal's real name is Hattie.) I also made a pie. Old Hattie's
Pumpkin Pie and Young Hattie's Chocolate Pie had far
more pieces eaten than my Lemon Pie did.

I sat at one table and played Peanuts with my Hobbit Mom,
my sister, Tandy, and our friend Jenn. Grandma Opal
and Tyler stood Kent and Hattie in High Five. The birthday
boy and his great-grandma lost. G'ma Opal doesn't take
losing with very good grace. So my mother, who is VERY
competitive in her own right moved over to take Tyler's place.
Her words, to Kent and Hattie, on sitting down as G'ma Opal's
partner were, "Now you have some competition." Alas, Kent
and Hattie are not easily intimidated. G'ma and Mom were
losing heavily; G'ma even resorted to a bit of cheating; they
still lost.

I hope they were able to sleep okay last night. Their
dreams were most likely haunted with hands of cards that
just wouldn't go together.

Oh, and the birthday boy, who took Mom's place in Peanuts
scraped by me in the last hand and won by two points.

Happy Birthday Son.

Everyday living is a joyous gift from our Father. May He keep
us faithful in it.

Two Graces (from The Faber Book of Children's Verse)

Some hae meat, and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thankit!

by Robert Burns


Hurly, hurly, roon the table,
Eat as muckle as you're able.
Eat muckle, pooch nane,
Hurly, hurly, Amen.

Anonymous


May I be kept from fate of this lady:

There was an old woman, and what do you think,
She lived upon nothing but victuals and drink.
Victuals and drink were the whole of her diet,
Yet this plaguey old woman would never be quiet.

Anonymous

We're having birthday party tonight for Tyler,
so I have to get cookin'.

On the menu:

Toasted Ravioli
Pasta House Salad
Pasta with Blue Cheese Artichoke Sauce (recipe to follow)
Peaches (from the freezer)
Lemon Pie
Chocolate Pie

If you're in the Mayberry neighborhood tonight consider
yourself invited!

Pasta with Blue Cheese Artichoke Sauce
(adapted from Southern Living Cooking
School Cook Book)

1 (12 oz) package noodles
1 (13.75 oz) can quartered atrichoke hearts, rinsed
and drained
1 (8 oz) package sliced fresh mushrooms
1 TBS olive oil
2 c milk
2 (1.25) packages creamy garlic Alfredo sauce mix
1/4 c crumbled blue cheese
1/4 c chopped pecans, toasted
1 tsp basil
Garnish: crumbled blue cheese

Cook pasta according to package directions.
Saute artichokes and mushrooms in hot oil till tender.
Whisk together milk and Alfredo sauce mix. Bring to
a boil; reduce heat, and simmer, whisking often, 2
minutes or until thickened. Add artichoke mixture and
blue cheese, stirring until cheese melts.
Drain pasta, and place in a large serving bowl. Pour
blue cheese sauce over pasta; toss to coat. Sprinkle
evenly with pecans and basil. Garnish with blue cheese.

Makes 4 servings. (I'll double it at least.)

Chrysalis posted on parlor games and it inspired me
to write about large group games that we have
enjoyed over the years. I'll post one now and follow
up with more later.

As a family we always play Round Robin on Thanksgiving
day. This is a ping pong game that is a hoot for groups of
from 10 to about 30. Everyone lines up around the ping
pong table; try to start with a relatively even number on
both sides of the table. One person holds a paddle at both
ends.

The first person to serve does so and then sets down their
paddle and moves to the side. The person following them
picks the paddle up to hit the return shot and then they
lay the paddle down and move aside. This continues on
both ends of the table so there is a continuous circling of
the table. If a person misses a shot they get a "P"; their
second miss gives them an "I"; their third miss gives
them a "G" and they are out of the game.

As the group becomes smaller the games becomes more
challenging because the participants have to run to get to
the other end on time to hit the coming ball. When only
two people are left the final stage of the game begins.

One person serves and then lays down his paddle and then
must turn around before he can pick it up to hit the return
shot. The person at the other end must lay his down and
turn around each time also. The last one to spell PIG wins
the game.

News from the farm.

Ecclesiastes 3:1,2

To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under heaven:
A time to be born,
And a time to die;

This past week we had the full circle of farm life. We
lost our beloved Fezzik, our Great Pyranees goat dog,
to bone cancer. He was a wonderful dog. He wasn't
a barker by nature and so at night, when his deep
bark would sometimes ring out, I'd feel very secure.
It would wake me from my sleep and I'd think, "There's
nothing to worry about." I knew that if there was a coyote
after the kids or a fox in the field Fezzik would take care
of the varmint.

One day we were sitting at the kitchen table and we saw
a dog jump over the fence into our field. Fezzik never even
barked, he just went bounding towards the intruder and
that foreign dog turned tail and jumped back over the
fence like a streak of lightning. We're going to miss our
gigantic fuzzball.

A few days after losing Fezzik, I came home to a bouncing
and excited Hattiegirl. Newborn twin goats were the
culprit of all the hooplah. She'd been out to hold them and
they were, "So sweet". Hattie is very patient with taming
down our goats and cows. They are her buddies.

So life goes on here on Fernnook Farm. Sorrow and joy are
intermingled at every turn.

Ecclesiastes 3:4

A time to weep,
And a time to laugh;
A time to mourn,
And a time to dance;

There is a new Mayberry Blog. Our dear friends
Steve and Ruth are the posters, although so far,
Steve does all the posting. Ruth thinks she is
perhaps a little too opinionated, and I know from
experience that she can vocalize her ideas quite
well. She is especially good at telling people where
they might be going if they continue in certain ways.
She is also quite accomplished at performing the
Turkey Trot.

These Cool Older People are also one of my college
son's lifelines. They help to keep him sane up in the
Big City.

There Steven, now that I've plugged you will you
forgive the turkey and the soda last night? Afterall,
shirts will wash.

Up-to-date Deer Count.

Joel-1
Billy-0 (Still hasn't hunted. Too much homework.)
Tyler-1
Hattie-0 (Still hasn't hunted. Billy has too much homework
and Tyler was waiting until he got 1 or 2 before
he took her out. Maybe she'll still get a shot.)

Freezer-"Burp. Thank you. I feel a little better now. A little
more meat would still be nice though."

I found a new nightly blessing for my children. In
II Corinthians 13:11 Paul is giving the Corinthians
a benediction. He gives them several instructions. One
of those instructions is only a two word sentence. It is
tremendously focused and terse. It rather sums up
his whole ministry to them. And it sums up what I
want for my children.

Become complete.

Paul is saying, "Okay, you've made a start, but don't
rest on your laurels yet. Keep going. You still have
a long way to go; you still have a lot to learn."

Questions pop around in my head like popcorn over
these two words. Complete in what way? How does
one become complete? When is one finally complete?

Complete in what way?
Knowlege of God (both theological and personal)
Development of character
Desire to serve Him as Lord totally

How does one become complete?
Study of the Scriptures
Prayer

When is one finally complete?
When we get to our true home.

II Peter 1:5-8 adds depth to this.

But also for this very reason, giving all diligence,
add to your faith virtue, to virtue knowledge,
to knowledge self-control, to self-control perseverance,
to perseverance godliness, to godliness brotherly kindness,
and to brotherly kindness love. For if these things are
yours and abound, you will be neither barren nor
unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.

That's what I want for my children. It is more than
just a sweet little prayer for them. I want them to have
faith...virtue...knowledge...self-control...perseverance...
godliness...brotherly kindness...love.

Then they will be complete in Christ.

So tonight when I creep into their rooms to say goodnight,
I'll add these two words.

Become complete.

Old traditions are comforting and stabilizing, but new
traditions are fun too. Philippine Sister and I have forged
into a new tradition with our mother. For two years running
we have spent a day with her near her birthday. This takes
a bit of planning as Becky (PS) lives in the Big City and has
to drive three hours to even get to where Mom and I are. Becky
drove the three hours Friday night and we spent Saturday junking
and eating out. We decided to eat at Penny's Diner in Dexter.
We ordered one meal and split it three ways. How's that for cheap.
Their burgers are so huge that we were all quite full afterwards.
And blessings on the waitress who didn't even blink an eye when
we told her we wanted to split the meal three ways.

Then Mom insisted on paying, even though it was her birthday
celebration. "Aha", we cried in unison (Philippine Sister and I),
"a new tradition!" Don't you think it is a good idea for my mom to
pay for us to eat out on HER birthday?

Becky said that was a very Filipino way of doing birthdays. I remarked
that it seemed rather Hobbity to me.

So Happy Birthday to my Filipino Hobbity New Tradition Setting Mama.
Besides all that, she's a total hoot. You've gotta believe me on that one.

Notice to all you Jane Austin fans:
MommyBrain is having a contest and the prize, really
and truly, is the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice on
DVD. I hope I win, but I'm being nice and giving you the
heads up so you can have an equal chance at the prize. All
you have to do to enter is to go visit her and leave a comment.
I do hope I win, because, after all, who can resist Mr. Collins?

Lessons From a Leaf

Here in Mayberry we have had a very wet and yet
quite lovely Autumn season. More than once I have
stood watching a scene that would not seem real if
I were to see it painted onto a canvas. A few days
ago, as I was tramping through the backwoods, I was
enthralled by all the leaves that were being shaken
from the trees and swirling down to rest on the ground.
The wind was blowing in gusts. There were quiet lulls
and then with a big swoosh of air thousands of leaves
were released at a time to make their short trip to
land.

As I stood in front of one large oak tree and watched
at least a hundred leaves launch from one blast of wind,
I began to wonder how the leaves might feel if they
could think. It was fascinating to see the different ways
they each approached their time of freedom in the air.
Some would come barreling straight down, as though
there were no time to waste in getting to their destination.
Some reminded me of my neice Kinsey Jo, they twirled
and danced their way to their landing. Others would float
first one way and then change directions completely and
finally land in a place totally unexpected.

Think of the people you know. Some are barrelers. They
race to their goal. They accomplish much. Others flit their
way through life. They quiver with delight. Some we put
in a box and we expect them to be the same way forever,
but then we must catch our breath in surprise as they grow
into a totally different person than they were at first.

I was also fascinated with the knowledge of an omniscient
God. He knows every sparrow; He knows every hair on
our heads; He knows every leaf. Each one is in His mind.
Their release came at the appointed time. They each glady
joined in the great dance of life. They fulfilled their purpose
without complaint. Whether or not their journey to earth
was seen by anyone they made it with grace and dignity.
There is a lesson in this. Maybe several. I can learn trust;
if God has the leaves in His hands, I know He has me there
too. I can learn humility and pride. Who am I that God has
chosen me to be a part of His plan for the ages, and yet how
incredible that He has. And I can learn worship. All
praise to the God who is, and Who works, and Who cares.

Psalm 135:5-7

For I know that the Lord is great,
And our Lord is above all gods.
Whatever the Lord pleases He does,
In heaven and in earth,
In the seas and in all deep places.
He causes the vapors to ascend from the
ends of the earth;
He makes lightning for the rain;
He bings the wind out of His treasuries.

Yesterday I sat down with the two youngest to
have a short devotion and prayer time. My Bible
just happened to fall open to Proverbs 30 and my
eyes lighted on verse 17. So, though that wasn't
my original intention, I thought it would be funny
to read it, and I did so using my most serious and
dreadful voice.

The eye that mocks his father,
And scorns obedience to his mother,
The ravens of the valley will pick it out,
And the young eagles will eat it.

Princess Daughter looked at me in disbelief. She took
the Bible out of my hand and said. "It doesn't say
that." She looked down and saw instantly that it did.
But she quickly covered it with her hand and said,
"Here's what it really says." Oh No, I knew what was
coming next, but I couldn't react quickly enough to
stop her.

She read verses 18 and 19.

There are three things which are too wonderful for me,
Yes, four which I do not understand:
The way of an eagle in the air,
The way of a serpent on a rock,
The way of a ship in the midst of the sea,
(And I knew it was coming, it was one of those dream-
like experiences....I just couldn't move.)
And the way of a man with a virgin.

So there you have it. Our devotion for the day.

I quickly looked over at verses 5 and 6 which I had
underlined. I said, "What I really meant to read to you
today was this."

Every word of God is pure;
He is a shield to those who put their trust in Him.
Do not add to His words,
Lest He rebuke you, and you be found a liar.

I guess I won't be soon silly again in our sanctifying
systematic seizing of the second for searching the
Scriptures.

Current Deer Season scores

Joel-0
Billy-0 (hasn't hunted yet)
Tyler-0
Hattie-0 (hasn't hunted yet)

Freezer-empty

Mayberry Meanderings

In August we have our Graveyard Dinner; in November,
over the first weekend of DEER SEASON we have a
Firehouse Chili Supper. The local volunteer fire department
is a rural institution. Ours (Highway K Fire Department)
came into being around 18-20 years ago. Besides putting
out fires, their main business is to raise money. If they
don't raise money, they can't put out fires. Therefore
the Chili Supper. Our family was represented en force.
Mama and Papa (my parents), Kent, Princess Daugher
and I, and Philippine Sister (visiting from the Big City)
and niece Annie all attended. Oh, and of course,
Grandma Opal came.

A few days ago Kent and I were at Grandma's house
playing cards. Do we ever do anything else there? I
trounced her. It was great. I looked at her hands and
I said, "Why Grandma, your nails are painted, who did
that for you?" "I did," was her answer, "I don't have
any problems with the left hand, but the right is tricky."

She is gloating over being 96. I have noticed a funny thing
about people. From the time of being 2 or 3 until the early
20's we want to be older than we are. "I am 4 and 1/2" or
"I'll be 18 next month." We feel that once we get to that
next step we will have arrived somewhere. Then from the
mid-twenties through about 75 we want to seem younger
than we are, and there may even be a little fudging of the
true age. Some of us get stuck at 29 or 39 for years. But,
sometime after 75, we want to be older again. I guess we
feel there is more honor or achievement in the next year
up for us. And so, Grandma was talking about her age as
96 well before she got there, but now she is an honest
woman again and truly 96. For a few months that is, I'll
let you know when she begins to speak of being 97.

But, back to the Firehouse Chili Supper. Philippine Sister
(Becky) came in after us. She had the privilege of bringing
G'ma Opal there. We watched her follow G'ma through the
food line and then make it over to where we had seats
saved. Becky got there first and she said, "Grandma is
so stubborn. She wouldn't let me get her food for her,
she wouldn't let me help her carry her food. She just kept
saying, 'I can do it myself.'" Now that was big news. She's
finally in on the Big Family Secret. How'd we keep her
in the dark so long. She found out about Santa when she
was 12; we did really good on this one.

As I was filling the water troughs a few minutes ago, I
amused myself by watching three calves play a head-
butting game. It wasn't 'til I turned to walk away that
I realized I hadn't tried to stop them from participating
in that politically incorrect game in which they just might
hurt either their little bodies or their little feelings.

Mayberry News

Or I guess that should be Mayberry Newspaper. I love
Wednesdays because that is the day our local newspaper
is delivered. It is late afternoon before we get it. The
townies get theirs in the morning or even on Tuesday
night, but those of us who live way down Rt. 2 don't get
it 'til late on Wednesday. Except once, a few weeks ago,
when I noticed someone stopping by our newspaper holder,
which is next to our mailbox, at the end of our driveway
and across the gravel, and naturally I thought, "Hmmm,
what is going on?" A little hike to the boxes and the
mystery was solved. Our newpaper had been delivered,
but it was only Tuesday night. That was kind of fun. It
like getting a birthday present from your parents a day or
two early. I waited for the next Tuesday eagerly, but
alas, it was to no avail...there was no newspaper. I guess
it was a once-in-a-lifetime treat. But small minds will be
occupied with just such trivialities, "Why was it delivered
a day early?" and, "Will it every happen again?"

You may ask, why such excitement over a newspaper? And
really, that is quite a good question. I think the answer is
that in a town like Mayberry the newpaper is just one more
thread that ties us all together.

There are the first few pages that are filled with the BIG
news of the week. That may range from a local lawsuit
to the candidates for homecoming in the local highschool.
There are always pictures throughout of people receiving
awards for this or that or of businesses that donated money
or items to this or that club. (They get good free advertising
that way.) This time of year there are always one or two
pages dedicated just to pictures of hunters and the deer
they bagged.

The sports section includes both school sports, city sports.
and traveling teams. There is the community news where
ladies (it's always ladies), write about the news in their small
microcosm of a community. A lot of times these are based
around a community church. I always feel sorry for one lady
who says almost weekly, "Well nobody called with any news
this week, so I don't have much to write. Please, somebody,
call me with some news." (I'd never put that in this little
blogpost if there were one chance on ten-million of her seeing
this.)

Twice a year pictures are printed that advertise different
stores in town. If kids color them and turn them in to the store
they can win a $5 prize. Several times my kids have won. In
fact ,just yesterday, the Christmas Coloring pictures were put
in, so Princess Daughter will get started on them today.

My kid's favorite parts are Speak Out, Letters to the Editor
and Street Talk. We have our share of entertainment by being
amused or getting angry over what is said.

Maybe I like the Mayberry Newspaper so much because someone
or other of my family is in it quite often. Between sports and
community activities we frequently end up with a picture
in the paper, or perhaps it is just a name of ours that is mentioned,
either way it is fun.

Really though, I think that I like it so much because it reminds me
weekly that I am part of a living, thriving community. I am not
just a commuter on a lonely, car-filled highway, but I am part of
something that is thriving and interconnected. I may not talk
like one, but, in my heart, I have become a true Mayberrian.

Psalm 93 teaches us that God's sovereign rule guarantees the
stability of the world against the forces of chaos.

vs. 1-4

The Lord reigns, He is clothed with majesty;
The Lord is clothed,
He has girded Himself with strength.
Surely the world is established,
so that it cannot be moved.
Your throne is established from of old;
You are from everlasting.
The floods have lifted up, O Lord,
The floods have lifted up their voice;
The floods lift up their waves.
The Lord on high is mightier
Than the noise of many waters,
Than the mighty waves of the sea.

Psalm 93 also comfirms the trustworthiness of all God's
spoken words and directives. It calls for the worship
of His people.

vs. 5

Your testimonies are very sure;
Holiness adorns Your house,
O Lord, forever.

The entire Psalm expresses joy, hope and confidence in the
ALMIGHTY.

We do not trust in men, and we do not depend upon govenments,
but, rather, we trust in the God who reigns on high.

And that is the brilliant political commentary of one who is licking
her wounds!

I gave up ironing many years ago. It was a good decision;
not an easy one, but a good one. It wasn't easy because
I was raised to iron. In my growing up years my good mother
taught her daughters how to iron. We ironed everything in
sight, from t-shirts to dress clothes. It also wasn't easy to give
up because I enjoy ironing. Ironing gives a person lots of room to
exercize thinking and dreaming; and therein lies the root
problem to my ironing and the ultimate reason I gave it up.

My nephew, Paul, from Orlando, was visiting Mayberry last
week. He is twenty-something, a wonderful christian man,
and lots of fun to be around. He is also the reason I gave up
ironing so many years ago. It all ties together, and his visit
just reminded me of the whole story.

Many years ago, somewhere around 23, I was standing in the
living room of our little duplex and I was ironing. I was also
pregnant and perhaps a wee bit hormonal. As usual, there was
a nice big basket of clothes that needed to have the wrinkles
lovingly smoothed out of them, and, as I was ironing, I began to
daydream.

My brother and his wife had just signed on with Campus Crusade,
they wanted to go to Africa, but Crusade had need of them in
their main office, which was in San Bernadino, CA at the time. So
Mike and Debby were preparing to leave for CA, which is a good
four day drive from Missouri. I was mulling all this over while I
was pressing the warm iron to Kent's shirts. Then I started to
think about Paul and I imagined him all grown up. He, in my
daydream (which seemed so real to me at the time), was the one
to be called to Africa. I went through every detail of him preparing
to leave and then actually getting on the airplane to fly away from
his family and friends. Now, please realize this, Paul Michael was
only, maybe, 2 or 3 at this when time I was imagining his life away.

I had to quit ironing because I was soon crying so hard that I
couldn't see the clothes on the ironing board. Kent came home
to a wife who was sobbing her heart out over an incident that
was tricked out of her own imagination and which, even if it were
to come to pass, was twenty-something years in the future.

I missed Mike and Deb and family, and continue to miss them as
they have had to live far from the home base all these years. I missed
my sister, Becky, and her family, when they spent seven years in
the Philippines as church planters. I ached over missing them. Being
mission minded myself, and believing with all my heart they were
doing God's work there didn't take away the missing. But I must
admit that I have never in my life missed anyone as much as I
missed my nephew Paul when he got on that plane in my daydream.

So, there was only one thing I could do. I gave up ironing, except, in
emergency situations, like Sunday getting ready for Meeting times.
You know, I kind of miss those hours of daydreaming. Maybe I'll
take it up again in my old age. That isn't so far off, now that I think
about it.

Knock, Knock
Who's there?
Pecan.
Pecan who?
Pecan on somebody your own size.
(A very appropriate joke for someone who is
4'9" tall.)

Semicolon is hosting a pecan contest. She wants to honor the
lowly pecan and raise it to a place of distinction. She would
relish any recipes, jokes or stories that feature pecans.

Here is my newly favorite pecan pie recipe.

Caramel Pecan Pie

36 caramels
1/4 c. water
1/4 c. butter, cubed
3 eggs
3/4 c. sugar
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/8 tsp. salt
1 and 1/3 c. chopped pecans, toasted
1 unbaked pie shell
pecan halves, optional (not in my opinion)

In a small heavy saucepan, combine the caramels, water
and butter. Cook and stir over low heat until caramels are
melted. Remove from the heat and set aside.

In a small mixing bowl, beat the eggs, sugar, vanilla and salt until
smooth. Gradually add caramel mixture. Stil in the chopped
pecans. Pour into pastry shell. If desired, arrange pecan halves
over filling.

Bake at 350 degrees for 35-40 minutes or until set. Cool on a wire
rack. Refrigerate leftovers.

Pappy told me the sad news a few days ago. I'm still reeling.
I am no longer a "Hillbilly"; Officially I am now an "Ozark American".

Oh, thou wert a foolish possum indeed to come creeping
around our back door last night when the mighty hunters
Kent and Tyler were not yet in bed.

In our afternoon ramble through the backwoods yesterday
Kent, Hattie and I came home with cold hands and red
noses. The trees are becoming more stark each day. The
layer of leaves we shuffled through almost obscured the lane
we walked down.

And, yesterday for the first time I had to break a thin layer
of ice in the water troughs. I could relate to Emily Bronte
in her poem Fall leaves, fall.

Fall leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
Lengthen night and shorten day,
Every leaf speaks bliss to me
Fluttering from the autun tee.
I shall smile when wreahs of snow
Blossom where the rose should grow;
I shall sing when night's decay
Ushers in a drearier day.

With an outlook like that no wonder Wuthering Heights
contains so much of darkness and despair.

But this morning, even though I need to go break that
ice again, the smiling of the sun, and the sparkling delight
of the morning hold at bay the dread of the cold, dark
days ahead.

Besides, II Corinthians 4:16-18 helps to set me straight.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward
man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day
by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight
of glory, while we do not look at the things which are
seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things
which are seen are tempoary, but the things which are
not seen are eternal.

Psalm 93 clinches the matter

The Lord reigns, He is clothed with majesty;
The Lord is clothed,
He has girded Himself with strength.
Surely the world is established,
so that it cannot be moved.
Your throne is established form of old;
You are from everlasting.

The floods have lifted up, O Lord,
The floods have lifted up their voice;
The floods lift up their waves.
Tje Lod on high is mightier
Than the noise of many waters,
Than the mighty waves of the sea.

Your testimonies are very sure;
Holiness adorns Your house,
O Lord, forever.

I will greet the day with a blessing, even if I have to wear
a scarf on my afternoon traipse through the woods.

Tammy tagged me. I'm it and that makes me feel powerful!

How wierd is wierd?
Wierd is as wierd does.
Normal is on the outside, but wierd goes all the way through.
A normal in the hand is worth two wierds in the bush.

Now down to business.

Nine wierd things about me. Only nine...the list could reach to
infinity and back.

1. I am only 4'9" tall and wear a size 2 shoe. That means I do not,
own, and never have owned, a pair of highheels. It also makes
it extremely hard to find dress shoes that do not have Barbie
on them and tennis shoes without lights in the heels.
2. I luxuriate in thin towels and thin pillows. I will keep my towels
till they are practically see-through. I never feel dry with the
big, fluffy kind.
3. I like spiders and will almost always let them live, no matter
where I find them. If they are REALLY big and in the house,
or if they are on the bed, then I show no mercy. Otherwise my
philosophy is "live and let live."
4. I read the first chapter of a book and then read the last chapter.
Then I go back and read the rest to see if the author has done a
good job in getting from A to B. And, no, it doesn't spoil the book
for me.
5. As a child, I had to read all the books on my shelf in order. I didn't
want to leave any out. That meant reading some I really didn't
like, but I felt sorry for them and forced my way through them.
One book I really didn't like to read as a child, but forced myself
to was "Are You My Mother" by P.D. Eastman. I really like that
book now! Silly child.
6. I can't throw out a crossword puzzle until it is finished. Sometimes
that means, because of my peabrain, they stay in the house till the
newspaper is old, yellow and brittle.
7. My family says I often sing my sentences. For example, if I say,
"It's dinner time," it will be to a tune. Unfortunately they also
reassure me often that I don't, haven't and never will sing well.
8. My pillowcases have to have a firm edge. No lace for me. I will
even take my own pillowcase when I travel (like to Mexico last
summer.) There is a reason for this. I have a wierd habit of
feeling the pillowcase edge and it has to have a certain feel, I guess
it is a comfort thing.
9. Jewelry makes me feel claustrophobic. I can wear a little for a
short period of time, but then I have to remove it or I get bothered
by it.

Now on to those I am tagging.

Bill
Jenn
Chrysalis

Reading Is Dangerous: Part II

As parents we are so very careful of our little charges
physical safety. We guard them, as best we can, from
injuries. We work hard to build good nutrition into their
diets so they will have healthy bodies. We teach them to
avoid dangerous situations. We fret when they are away
from us, worrying over what may happen to them.

How odd then, that we so often ignore the spiritual, emotional
and mental dangers they are surrounded by. In fact, we often
encourage them to stay in areas of danger. A child's heart and
mind can be such tortured places and as parents, we have a
a charge to guard, not just the bodies, but the hearts and minds
of our children. The bloom of "innocence" is so easily wiped off
from their lives.

Reading can be dangerous. Even those who are extremely careful
of what their children may watch on television often encourage
those same kids to read anything, as long as they are reading.
There is a feeling that, if it is in print, it must be good. That is
simply not so. In fact, reading can be more dangerous than viewing
TV because it is more private and there is far less parental
guidance in the way of discussions over what might and might not
be appropriate.

This post is not about Me giving You standards. It is about Me
challenging You to guard what comes into the hands of your kids
and to be proactive about it. I once had the goal of reading before
hand any book my kids wanted to read. That goal got left on the
wayside of life many years ago, however, I do know what authors,
and types of books I will allow.

I have tried to set a standard by making it know that there are
many books I will not read. I strive, like Mr. Collins of Pride and
Prejudice, to give my little comments as unstudied an air as
possible. As we are eating dinner, I might say, for instance, "I
checked out an interesting looking book from the library today,
but you know, after the first chapter I decided it wasn't the type
of book that would be appropriate for me, so I'm not going to
finish it." I want my kids to see me having to say "no" to things.
They are not the only ones who face temptation. (And not the
only ones who fall into it, but that is a post for another day.)

My younger years were blessed with books that encouraged me
to think in ways that were good and wholesome. Romans 12:2
has great wisdom for us here.

And do not be conformed to this world,
but be transformed by the renewing of
your mind, that you may prove what is
that good and acceptable and perfect
will of God.

Of course, it is reading God's Word that renews our minds, and
yet, good literature, from babyhood on up, plants good seeds
in young heads. It will train, teach and guide our children to
seek after that which is best. Good books can come along beside
the Bible as helpers. They can hlep bring about Proverbs 19:22
in the lives of our children.

Listen to counsel and receive instruction,
That you may be wise in your latter days.