Monday, September 19, 2011

Creation Calls

Vets Stadium fireworks from Heartwell Park, July 4th, 2010

Must see! Transfixes Me:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KEwhLvIQrk
- - Music by Brian Doerksen www.briandoerksen.com

Left this on someone's blog, Oct 19 2010:


When hearts bleed out uncertainty,
When hurt speaks our humanity,
When what is sure butts up against
The worst of what we thought we'd
Lost,

Cry out. Embrace. Say Jesus. Ask.

Together.
Do it 
' Till you hear.

He comes in quietness and pain.
He comes with certainty and gain.

He comes.

- - EFB

Friday, September 9, 2011

Thanks, Cuz

I am so fond of my cousin's blog. Tonight I was reminded of an early AmZyg post, lamenting the success of "some people" who just naturally seem to "turn out" better than others. I do not share their lot.

Here's why! Discovered on a link from Pinewood Castle:

http://ourmothersdaughters.blogspot.com/2011/08/self-control-and-where-to-get-it.html

Somewhere between raising Baptists and graduating Episcopalians,
my recycle bins filled up with curiously Bacchic labels.
Self-Control, where are you?

Thursday, September 8, 2011

In Tears

My "conservative" newspaper falls short again.

Dear OC Register: 
Your artless puff job re: student compliance with new vaccine requirements left me stunned. How can you call yourselves journalists yet fail to mention one iota of controversy over "mandatory" injections? Your paper has sunk in my esteem to the level of mere Soviet style propaganda. When human populations are reduced to herd status, the rights of individuals waived as inconsequential, and preferential treatment meted out by schools (in this case based upon criterion invented via government scientists and Big Pharma) we are not just a devolved republic, we are no longer even civilized. SHAME on you.

Broken Crystal.
Our Nation.
Unfixable.
Titanic
Lost.



Tuesday, September 6, 2011

"What Would Make Our Home A Good Place For You?"

(If only heliotrope and salvia were good cut flowers)

If there is one recurring stress that perplexes me more than chore assignments, I don't know what it is.

Last week's AmZyg 'moral inventory' confessed the guilt over how untrained my choreless childhood was,  how that guilt renders me disabled as chore foreman, and how my kids have figured that out about me (and exploit it pretty well).

(That Ignored Wall Detail)


Enter ystdy's !LaborDay! broadcast on Focus.  Swept, did dishes and culled vase flowers while listening to it four or five times this afternoon.  What I learned: with the kids all but all moved out so that the bulk of household upkeep falls on me, it doesn't make sense to be outside gardening anymore.



The good news is that I must've done something right. That front landscape could never have emerged without kids taking up the slack indoors. Except for the day we layered the original compost-in-place, I scarcely recall any child of mine out there weeding. I'd even try to bribe them with $1per weed offers. Nuthin'. But while I was out there pruning, somebody must've been in here sweeping up. (We can all guess who it was... er-hem. Her name probably starts with the first letter in Cinderella...)

I never thought to sit down with the family and say, like the woman in today's broadcast, "What would make our home a good place for you...?" and proceed to a healthy conversation about what they all think should go into a chore system.  Now that they're (chorelessly) launched, I'm starting to figure out what "makes them tick." Who knew that the Boy cares if there's grime on the piano keys? Who knew the girls like our house to look like an eclectic flop house when friends stop by?

Who knew that red spray paint in the hands of teenage boys could invite such artistry...?
No one 'fessed up, but we named it after a prime suspect
Had we sat down to discuss what they like, I would've learned that nobody notices when weeds pop up outside, so,,,, why should I care?


Interview with the authors of their HowTo Figure It All Out book:

http://www.focusonthefamily.com/popups/media_player.aspx?MediaId={E1C9F90F-4593-40F4-BDD7-54BB53D78690}


Authors'  "Who's Responsible for What" worksheet:

http://www.focusonthefamily.com/~/media/files/pdf/todays-spotlight/whos-responsible-for-what.ashx

"I hoed, planted, weeded, pruned, fertilized and cut these all by myself! Not."

- - - - - - - -
Gasp. What I learned after re-reading this, is that the gardens front and back emerged out of sheer need to escape my children as they studied inside; evidence of an art deprived and harried homeschool mom who found her sanity and solitude 'in dirt.'

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Bike Thief

As I read Psalm 22 in the truck cab,
a gentleman with bolt cutters thot to nab...


Just a note
On the compost that is
Culture.

Just a word
On the craft of black and
White.

Just a Query
On ingredients for
Order:

When you catch the guy,
HOW SHEW him right?

It took but 2 seconds, the deed to be done.
He had no idea he'd been seen by someone.

When officers said he'd
Not broke much law,
Just vandalized goods,
Cause he stopped when I saw...

200 plus years
Of our culture
went raw.

COMPOST.

Sometimes it stinks
When no air
Can it drink.

Now THINK.

 = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
(What the old one-eyed man interrupted with his bolt cutters:

"Praise the LORD, each one of you who fears Him... each of you must fear and reverence His name... He has not turned and walked away. When I cried to Him, He heard and came...The poor shall eat and be satisfied; all who seek the LORD shall find Him and praise His name...The whole earth shall see it and return to the LORD; the people of every nation shall worship Him."
-  -  Ps 22: 24-25, TLB

May He find you soon, Holy One.)
Amn.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Footware

Nothing beats the right pair of shoes. In the garden, you can't beat a shoe that supports old ankle sprains, soothes neuromas, keeps out (most) of the rake dirt, and prevents Olympic sized slip-and-falls like the one that upended me on a wet wheelchair ramp the day I wore old Croc's.

(There's something to be said for the right pair of knee pads, too.)


But you can't appreciate those Merrell boots more, than after a Volunteer day spent in slip-ons.  Somehow the ol' boots got left behind in the kitchen during the usual flurry of 5:40AM coffee refills and searches for garden hats and spare change.

The boots take so long to sock-up and lace that I save the job for the long passenger ride up the freeway. I went to grab them out of my huge Tuesday Morning bag in the back seat. Gasp! They were not there.

There was nothing to be done. Had to spend the whole day in old 'sneaks I'd worn to the car.  

While it wasn't the dismal day I'd feared, my back took the brunt, and the poor 'pups' reveled in hot freedom waiting for my second bus home * .


There's nothing like a full day of pruning acanthus in half bare feet. They survived;
but my pace was slowed, so acanthus, bougainvilla, and a few nut grass subversions were only moderately intercepted. 

Another gardening FIRST:
witnessing the legendary network of nutgrass  filaments for myself.
(Why is my camera so flakey? A challenge for another day.)

My Merrells will ride again next week, God willing. Until then, the art and craft of public gardening must limp along half tended.  How will the wood nymphs sleep at night?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

* "home": my rendezvous with DH for the 30 mile commute back down the fwy.