The hymn entitled, The Love of God, was new to me as we sang it in church on Sunday. It was written in 1917 by Frederick M. Lehman. I really like the metaphors in the third stanza.
Could we with ink the ocean fill, and were the skies of parchment made; were every stalk (tree) on earth a quill, and everyone a scribe by trade; to write the love of God above would drain the ocean dry; nor could the scroll contain the whole, though stretched from sky to sky. (Refrain)
Refrain: O love of God, how rich and pure; how measureless and strong! It shall forevermore endure, the saints' and angels' song.
Winter…snow, wind, cold, freezing rain. We had it all this week. And the week before – the polar vortex with temperatures 20-30 degrees below zero.
Monday morning we woke up to a layer of ice everywhere from the freezing drizzle/snow the night before…I wasn’t sure if I should venture out in it, but I did, and I thought up this poem while driving home from my outing.
Morning Conundrum... Scheduled appointment, But icy road conditions. Should I go or Should I stay? Listen to TV reports, Shower and dress. Check again. Driveway a sheet of ice, Decide to venture out anyway, Wet hair and all, Drive slowly and carefully. Some events I just don’t want to miss.
Tuesday brought an old-fashioned Minnesota snowstorm…almost 10 inches of snow fell. We arrived at the library to find out story time was cancelled. After that we were advised to stay home.
Wednesday, after plowing out, we took advantage of the fresh snow and went snowshoeing and the grandkids went sledding, and then Thursday brought another round of continuous snow so our weekly class was canceled…
Out for some fresh air.
It’s been years since the weather has determined what I can and cannot do…Winter is fine when you can get out in it, but cabin fever is hard.
Excited smile.
It’s wonderful to see the grandkids having fun in the snow!
After the deep freeze last week, the temperatures climbed on Saturday and we were able to get outside to play.
The temperatures were just right for cross-country skiing in the morning at Riverbend Nature Center in Faribault, until late morning when the temperatures started rising and the snow was becoming sticky.
A beautiful morning for some cross-country skiing.
When we got home from skiing we thought would be a good time to build a snowman with the grandchildren. We were already in our winter gear, so we bundled up the grandkids and brought them outside to play in the snow, and to build a snowman…finally. They have been waiting and waiting for the “right” kind of snow to build one.
Building a snowman…grandkids with “grandma-papa.”
We brought out the scarf we had bought in anticipation of building a snowman, and used a carrot for his nose, rocks for his eyes, and branches for his arms and his smile.
Finally, a snowman…and we used the scarf we bought.
Grandma giving a sled ride.
The kids were very excited to play in the snow, and we were very excited to play with them, and also cross-country ski.
We all organize our kitchens in a way that makes sense to us. Then, when another person comes to spend time in your kitchen you realize some things could be different… better, even.
When my daughter-in-love started sharing our kitchen one of the areas we found that needed improvement were my spices…they were a mess. (I guess I knew that but it was blatantly obvious when she started using them!) We made a trip to Just Food Coop to re-fresh spices that I had, and to buy a few new spices. She’s a wonderful cook, and wanted some additional spices.
We decided now was the time to clean up and organize my spices.
Re-doing my spice jars.
I don’t have an extra drawer in my kitchen for spices. I was using a plastic container to store my spice jars. I had a counter-top, revolving spice rack on the storage shelf in the basement, so I brought it upstairs, washed it off, and ordered new spice jars with labels.
Freshly redone spice rack.
It took a couple of days…to clean out the spice jars and let them dry overnight…and transfer the spices from the old jars to the new…then wash up the old jars to reuse for the extra spices over and above the 16 in the counter-top rack. They are the less-used spices. I put them back into the cupboard, but in a more organized way.
Newly redone revolving spice rack on the counter. Spices in alpha order, of course.
Now the project is complete. It was fun, and satisfying.
We woke up to -27.4* (F) today, that’s -33* Celsius. We’re looking at both measurements right now because our daughter-in-love is use to celsius readings.
I remember one other time in the 80’s when temperatures dipped this low…I took a picture of a mercury thermometer that was hanging on our deck outside, instead of the current indoor, digital thermometer recording the temperatures outside we use now. Unfortunately, I cannot find the photo.
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields that it kisses them so gently? And then it covers them up snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.'” -Lewis Carroll
Fresh snow.
A quilt of snow fell Sunday night and we woke up to a beautiful winter wonderland.
However, the weather forecasters predict we will experience our coldest temperatures in 20 years this week, with 25-30 degrees below zero temperatures. Brrr…We will need to bundle up with our own warm quilts, inside.
As I was sitting in the sunshine the other day, sewing buttons on my son’s favorite shirt, I realized I get a lot of satisfaction repairing something that is worth repairing.
And I like puzzles.
This favorite shirt of his has been around awhile… so I started sewing buttons on this shirt before he was married. And since I have a jar of buttons, he still asks me if I can repair it.
A favorite shirt.
This is the third time repairing it, and it reminded me of a book we would read over and over again to our boys when they were little called Hiram’s Red Shirt. It’s a story about a man who kept trying to patch his favorite red shirt until finally he had to buy a new one. I browsed through our bookshelves and found it, so now I can read it to the grandkids.
A favorite children’s book.
My story would read like this…there once was a favorite shirt with a button missing. I looked in my button jar and found a button similar to the buttons on the shirt so I sewed it on, and the shirt was ready to wear again.
My button jar…not the traditional mason jar.
A year or two later another button, or two, went missing. I will mention here – these buttons are not the ordinary dress shirt buttons and it’s amazing how many types of buttons there are in this world.
So, this time I used a button off the cuffs to replace the missing button from the buttoned placket in the front of the shirt. I used a different set of matching buttons for the cuffs…although not the same buttons, they looked similar to the original buttons, and since you don’t see the cuffs next to the placket it looked fine.
Another year or two goes by, and more buttons are broken or have gone missing. The shirt is still a favorite, is still in great shape, and is still worth repairing.
Some buttons from my button jar.
So, back to my button jar. (This is fun for me.) Two buttons are missing; one from the pocket and one from the placket. I take the button from the second pocket, sew it on the placket and then hunt for two similar buttons from my button jar to sew on the pockets. I succeed in finding two that look alike – and look similar to the original – and sew all three buttons on the shirt. It’s ready for the next go around.
Here’s hoping the repair will last another year or two. I think it may require a whole new set of buttons next time, but I have thoroughly enjoyed my button puzzle.
Today was my mother’s birthday. She would have been 96 years old. She died 10 years ago, in March 2009.
Ruby. I’m not sure the date of this photo, but I like it. I noticed she has a flower in her hair.
I wrote this note to her for her birthday in 1997.
Dear Mom,
You are a very special person and you are my mother. Thank you for the gift of life. My life has been blessed in many ways and you have stood up for me many times along the way. I know you have always wanted what was best for me. It’s nice to have come from a stable home.
You have been through many hard times, losing your mom at a young age, losing a baby and then losing your husband at age 50. I’m sure you have suffered more than we know. You have become very strong through it all and have taught me to be strong.
You have always been surrounded by many friends and that’s a blessing. Thanks for modeling the importance of friendships.
I was proud of the house on McKinley Street. It was special knowing dad built it. You always kept it looking beautiful, as you did your townhouse and your apartment in the retirement center. You are great at keeping your house in order. I know I picked up your organizational skills. You are also a good cook. I don’t think I picked up that skill. I wish I could make a roast like you do.
I have pleasant memories of our driving and camping vacations and the great times up at the trailer on Farm Island Lake. Thank you for those opportunities to enjoy God’s creation.
I love God’s ideas of families and always enjoyed the Christmas Eve and Easter celebrations with the extended family. I am glad to have shared them with my cousins and grandparents. Thank you for participating in those get -togethers.
You’ve been a grandgrandmother. Thanks for loving and caring for our children and being so very supportive of them.
Happy Birthday Mom. I love you.
Ruby Red
I wrote this poem after she died in March 2009.
Red was her color Ruby was her name Never much recognition Never much fame
But she was a faithful mother, A grandmother, a friend Loved and cared by many Generous to the end.
She surrounded herself with beauty Both natural and man made She had a green thumb for growing, An eye for things that stayed.
From the house on McKinley To the apartment at Meadowbrook She kept her place beautiful It was always fun to look.
Her fun sense of adventure Took her on many fine trips And hours of playing bridge Kept her mind sharp and crisp.
Being with family and friends Made her most content She had much joy in remembering Those times were well spent.
So here’s to Ruby Whose color was red God blessed her life to 86 An active life she led.
Mary Oliver, an American poet, died yesterday at age 83. I have not read a lot of poetry. Some works I find difficult to understand, but there are many poems by Mary Oliver that I do like. I plan to reread her works. In fact, when I was looking online for information about her, I noticed one site suggested reading a poem a day by Mary Oliver. I may try that.
In the last few years I have been engaged in more poetry, especially through writings of two different friends. Just last week I went to my first poetry reading, where one of the above mentioned friends read her work, along with other poets. It was an enjoyable and enriching experience. And at times, I have dabbled in writing my own poetry.
The old oak tree at Valley Grove.
In honor of Mary Oliver here is one poem always makes me smile (link here). It is from her book A Thousand Mornings.
“Foolishness? No, It’s Not.
Sometimes I spend all day trying to count the leaves on a single tree. To do this I have to climb branch by branch and write down the numbers in a little book. So I suppose, from their point of view, it’s reasonable that my friends say: what foolishness! She’s got her head in the clouds again.
But it’s not. Of course I have to give up, but by then I’m half crazy with the wonder of it — the abundance of the leaves, the quietness of the branches, the hopelessness of my effort. And I am in that delicious and important place, roaring with laughter, full of earth-praise.” ― Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings
When our grandchildren moved to the Minnesota from Mozambique, Africa last month there was snow on the ground, thankfully. They were so excited to see snow. With our unusually warm January temperatures and no more snow fall since they arrived, I’m glad they had the chance to experience snow, even for a day. They made their first snow angels. I wrote the poem below, after our outing.
Snow angels All bundled up Almost unrecognizable Skipping down the lane Stopping to taste and see it is good Noticing squirrels And planes and dogs Screaming with outdoor voices Running, then stopping to fall in the snow Beautiful snow angels Disguised as grandchildren.
We are waiting for snow to make more snow angels, and a snowman! We have bought a scarf for the snowman. It is hanging on the coat tree…in anticipation. Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
