Our Two Campers

Sorry I haven't posted lately--been very busy. This photo pretty much explains it.

Sunday Serenity?

It's really Monday and truth be told, Sunday wasn't exactly serene. We returned Saturday night from a whirlwind 20-hour trip--ten each way--to pick up our precious grandbabies for a week's stay with us. We all managed to make it to church yesterday morning, then we spent the rest of the day adjusting to our new routine. Today's going more smoothly, and soon I hope to report that we've hit our stride. Photos coming soon.

Getting Closer

In less than a week, we'll be sharing our space with two little campers. Although Ethan, four, is a veteran, this will be 16-month-old Ellie's first time to attend Camp Grandma. We're setting up toys and play tents at home, cleaning the camper--with tentative plans for an overnighter at a local State park--firming up an outdoor photo shoot, and gathering vital provisions--whole milk, healthy snacks, diapers, and camp pj's, to name a few.


We'll see how it goes.

Sunday Serenity

He who forms the mountains, creates the wind, and reveals his thoughts to man, he who turns dawn into darkness, and treads the high places of the earth--the Lord God Almighty is his name.

~ Amos 4:13

A Love Affair with Heirloom White

Buying new accessories for our home does not appeal to me as much as restoring the old. Maybe my attitude is fueled by the green movement, by empathy--after all, I don't want to be tossed out because of my ever-increasing imperfections--or by frugality. Most likely it's all of the above.

Enter Heirloom White, my new best friend. Back in the 80's the hubs gave me a cute country pine clock. A few coats of rich, creamy white extended its life and gave our wannabe cottage-style bedroom a touch of charm.


Next up, a couple of old mixed metal-blotched frames, now Heirloom White, display two IKEA note cards I've had for a few years, creating another bedroom wall brightener.


A dated oval print framed in dark pine became a chalkboard adorning the small space just off the kitchen. (I had my doubts, but a few coats of chalkboard spray paint did indeed transform the print into a message board!)



And now for a work in progress--an old pine chest to paint and place under the bedroom clock, next to a comfy chair and basket of books. I'm mulling over the idea of stenciling a monogram onto the front panel. By the way, I'm not a great painter. Thank goodness my HW spray paint is so forgiving.


Ain't love grand!

Temporary Trials

This was written in November of 2006, after Ethan's corrective surgery.

Since his cleft lip surgery, my little grandson, Ethan, has to wear splints on his arms to keep him from touching his mouth. They come off only when he has a bath or his clothes are changed. He's also being fed through a syringe. Unlike the bottle, the small syringe requires two to three pauses to refill. As you can imagine, he gets pretty frustrated--downright mad--about these inconveniences that are beyond his understanding. You might be amused to know that I tried showing him the syringe plunger pulling in the formula, hoping he'd get the picture and say to himself, "Oh well, my food is coming and everything's okay." After all, he's very smart.

Watching Ethan get so upset about the temporary trials that we know are ultimately for his good, I couldn't help but think about my own conduct when things are "going wrong" in my life. Do I trust that it's all working together for good, or do I scream at God for immediate relief?

I want to be a spiritual grownup, to cultivate a keener awareness that in all things, my Father knows what's best for me.

Mexican Rice

When a south-of-the-border entree is offered here in Rheteeta's* kitchen, the meal is considered incomplete without a side of Mexican rice. Until now, my easy way out has been to buy and prepare a mix from the supermarket. This evening, I finally got around to trying this recipe. Inexpensive and delicious, it received an A+ from the hubs, so I thought you might enjoy it, too.


*Rheteeta is a nickname my mom sometimes used for me. I think it has a Mexican sound appropriate to this post. My maiden name was Martin, which of course made my full nickname--seriously--RhetEEta MartEEnee. Mom had a quirky sense of humor.