Confessions From Vacation

Our family has been away the past week; away in another world. A world of sunshine and blue skies and no cares but our own. A world of sleep and relaxing and doing nothing...or something...just as we chose. We took our own selfishness and human flaws along with us, to be sure, as you will see in this piece written early one morning last week.......

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In the semi-darkness, my eyes take in the clutter of clothes and suitcases and abandoned footwear. The flat surfaces are strewn with discarded cups and empty bags. The trash can overflows with the rubble of seven people. My order loving heart chafes at the messy chaos; there's too many people in one room and this introvert soul is reaching a breaking point. Slipping down onto the ugly, striped carpet in the pale glow of early morning, I clutch at a sliver of solitude as one person moans in their sleep and another snores blissfully on - that same snore that so annoyed a third at 2:00 this morning.

It's a dream vacation, taking everyone to Florida during school's week of winter break. When their dad broke the news to them of the plan, the children all looked at me in wonderment to see if he was serious. But halfway in, I confess, I'm not feeling very dreamy and the guilt of that fact threatens to overpower any fun I am having. I had desperately wanted our own space, see - a house, an Airbnb, something. But the plan was short notice and it was hard to beat other prices and I had sweetly said I would be ok with whatever he decided. After all, he didn't have to take us anywhere!


But I wasn't really ok with whatever.

Messiness and chaos and no personal space just get to me, that's all. How can it be a vacation when I'm constantly smashed into the same space with six others, unable to even enjoy a private conversation with my own husband? At every turn my stubborn mind aches to point out the benefits of what I so desperately thought was better. I don't want to be like that but how can I not when I feel like I'm suffocating?



I see a slice of blue sky through the parted curtain - the part carefully made at night so the room isn't too dark for the little people - and I remember yesterday and the blue, blue sky and the puffy white clouds and a little boy reveling in the wonder of the ocean's waves. It was sheer joy just to watch him. Into the waves and then out; laying down to let the water rush over him; head up in surprise when the water nearly got his face, and all the while giggling and bouncing with delight.

 Then their was the drama queen who was shivering with cold and tearfully disappointed at the cold water and the strength of the crashing waves. Sitting in a dejected huddle under her towel, on the beautiful, sandy beach, she could think of nothing to do and her mind was fixed on one thought - the pool back at the motel. The mother in me wanted to shake her. Indeed, the lecture I delivered was rather much like a hard shake that might rattle the teeth.

Laying, now, on the hard floor as the occupants in the room slept on, I wondered if it was me, instead, who deserved the lecture and a good, hard shake. Was I not quite a lot like the drama queen myself, unable to recognize extravagant beauty and privilege in the face of my own selfish little heart?

"Really, woman. Do you know how blessed you are? Look at your children sleeping peacefully - one, two, three, four, five. Once, they were tucked away safely under your heart; once they were tiny, dependant on you for life; once they needed you for everything. Look at them now, stretching tall and strong, yet still content to all be huddled together in one room. This week is an incredible gift. It won't be long till they're all independent, finding their own way in the world and making their own plans. The time left to make these close knit memories is fast passing by; don't waste it. Do you hear me? Whatever you do, Do Not Waste It."

Thoroughly chastised, I slip back into the cozy bed. The room is still silent, I've had my sliver of space. It's a beautiful day and I'm thankful, so thankful, to be spending it in close proximity with these special people.            

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That early morning lecture on the floor was well taken. I must say, we had a most amazing week together. And now, we are home. I'm finding the drama queen tendencies crop up just as easily in this world. It's cold and drab and brown here, with piles of laundry and Real Life staring me in the face first thing this morning. But there's just as much extravagant privilege here, if I'll open my eyes. Just as many special moments to not miss; just as little fleeting time. I find myself needing the same lecture here as anywhere else, "Don't waste it. Do you hear me? Whatever you do, Do Not Waste It."

A Never-Ending Opportunity

"For the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to show himself strong in the behalf of them whose heart is perfect toward him."
 2 Chronicles 16:9

I remember the day Chris took me to look at the little piece of land he was considering buying. There were trees and brambles and briars; fallen logs and leaves and limbs. All of it was situated on one steep hill. We scrambled up through the woods, dodging thorns and branches. Chris was busily dreaming and scouting out the best spot to build; I was looking around at it all in bewilderment - "A house? Here?"

But we bought the land and the dreams began turning into reality. Then the lane went in. From that day forward, there was one nagging question in the back of my mind - "How am I going to get in and out of here in the wintertime?"

I've talked about this before - how I never had to drive in the snow before moving to Ohio, how I dread it and hate it and, in short, what a chicken I am. And now here I was going to be on this Hill, with no way in and out but a steep lane. Not only that, the steep lane comes out right in the middle of a fairly major hill on Pennyroyal, the road running past our house. Put simply, the whole situation is basically a chicken's worst nightmare.

We did bite the bullet and concrete the lane. Last summer, we also blacktopped the parking area by the house. Major, major improvements and without question a good investment; we would have been hauling in new gravel regularly.

So, here we are at The House On The Hill for a year. That lane has continued to be a thorn in the flesh. It's not just bad in the winter, see. Even in the summer you have to know how to maneuver the thing so as not to produce ominous scraping sounds from your vehicle. This can be quite alarming, especially to visitors who are generally a bit more concerned about their vehicles than some of the rest of us. It is completely possible to enter in and depart from said lane without the scraping sounds, but one must Know How. Like Eeyore playing Pooh sticks, there's a twitchy sort of way, if you know what I mean.

All in all, I have become somewhat used to this treacherous lane that elicits so many comments and wonderment from all who see it. I've joked that I will homeschool my kids in the winter months and I still cringe as I listen for the scraping sounds every time someone comes to visit. For the most part though, I've gotten used to it. I still dreaded winter but that's nothing new and I already know that worry isn't going to change anything. Besides, I've also discovered that God can actually handle wintertime pretty well, imagine that?

I thought maybe God would handle it by giving us a mild winter with very little snow. Well, He has pretty much turned that idea upside down. I wish I would have counted the number of times it has snowed since Christmas. Really, I think it might have been too many to count! It's not that we have had such a huge accumulation, like some people, but just enough to cover up the cleaned up roads - and lane - again and again and again.

It was early one morning during the first part of January when it came to me. I was standing in the kitchen, getting ready to start the morning routine of lunches and breakfast and school prep. The noise of the snowblower filtered in through the window; my husband was out there, again, clearing off the lane before heading to work. He'd bought that snowblower at our school auction and every time I heard it's hum, my heart melted into a puddle. Forget the roses and chocolates. Let me tell you, seeing my man out there in the early morning hours or late at night after a long day at work, faithfully cleaning off that lane in the freezing cold puts more stars in my eyes than any flowers ever could.

It was in that moment that I heard God whisper, "That lane is a never-ending opportunity for me to show myself strong on your behalf."

I stopped mid-stride in my morning bustle and stood there in awe. I'm not sure I can explain how sacred that moment was. You can't very well hate something with such great potential, can you? "A never-ending opportunity..." it almost gave me goosebumps. A lump came into my throat, as I stood there in my kitchen with tears in my eyes and my hands raised in worship, "Oh, dear God! Thank you for that lane; thank you for a never-ending opportunity!!"

I still groan when it snows, I still dread needing to get out there. But now it's a dread laced with anticipation - 'How is He going do it this time?' And you know what? He is so creative!

Some days He has the school board chairman cancel school (Bless the man). Some days He has my husband park the van at the bottom of the lane and gives me the courage to brave the road and backing the van back into its precarious spot. (You see those marks behind the van? That's where Isaac took a little run and slid all the way down to the van.)

Some days He has grandpa pick them up here instead of me taking them to grandpa's to catch a ride (he takes them to school Monday and Thursday). Many days He has the sun shine just enough so the lane is clear by 3:00 when it's time to go to school again. (Huge perk of concrete and blacktop; our lane is usually the first to be clear!)

He doesn't do it the same every time and it doesn't always look the way I imagine it will, but always, He shows Himself strong. It never ends.

I call that amazing.

For The Stingy Succulent-lover

 My oldest daughter, Jasmine, has fallen in love with succulents and the wonder of propegation. She has spent hours reading up on the tricks and methods of propegation for different types of succulents. I love to watch her experimenting and carefully babying her little plant babies. Today she is sharing her knowledge with us in a guest post!

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I love springtime;

I love green plants.

I am crazy over succulents

and I'm Miss Conservationist

who delights in

saving her precious pennies.

This is how I grow

my succulent

collection with little cost

and great fun.

The leafless stem above

is the remains

of a leggy succulent.

Propagation

works best when 

your plant has

become

leggy and unhealthy,

with leaves

spread far apart

as the plant

tries to get

the maximum amount

of light it can.

At this point,

You have two options.

#1. Allow your

plant to continue

growing in this manner

until all the leaves

wither and the succulent

dies. 

#2. Start propogating!

To do this, start by

removing the

leaves from the stem

of the succulent, leaving only

a small rosette at the top.

When removing

the leaves from the succulent,

start with the bottom leaves

and work your way up to the top.

Wiggle each leaf gently

until you

feel a little snap.

Be sure to get a clean

pull, leaving 

no part of the leaf

attached to the stem.

The leaf nearest you

shows a clean pull. 

The one further

 away is broken on the edge

and will

not grow a new plant.

Last, cut off 

the rosette at the top with a pair of

sharp scissors.

Lay the leaves and rosette

on a saucer or a shallow tray.

Keep the saucer with the leaves

on a windowsill

that gets lots of indirect sunlight 

until they callous over.

Notice the difference between

the two leaves above.

The one closest to you has

calloused over

and has a bit of a protective

"scab" on it.

This scab will keep the

leaf from

absorbing too

much water, thus

preventing it from

rotting.

This leaf is an example

of rotting.

It has turned a

yellowish brown

and is limp and 

waterlogged.

It will die soon. 

So no watering until

the leaves

have scabbed over, you hear?

At this point,

lay your leaves on top of a

container of dry soil. 

As you can see in the picture 

below, the tips of the leaves will

really not be touching the soil at all.

  

And now, remember

that rosette

you snipped off the stem?

When it forms a "scab", 

simply place the stem into the ground

and it will grow roots and 

continue to grow.

Water it as you would

water a full grown

succulent.

Now back to those leaves.

At this point, we

begin the W and W process -

watering and waiting.

This phase can be kinda tricky

because succulents don't 

need much moisture.

Water the leaves very rarely

before baby plants begin

to grow. I water mine

once a week  with a spray bottle.

When you see tiny roots and baby

plants beginning to grow,

give them a good soaking

whenever the soil is

TOTALLY

dry.

The key here is to not over-water.

Overwatering is one of the

most common

reasons that succulents die.

 If you give them too much

water and they start to rot, 

there's basically nothing

you can do for them.

However, if your plant

isn't getting enough water, 

you can easily take

care of that!

ALWAYS err on the side of

underwatering.

After many hours and days

and weeks

and possibly even

months of waiting, 

your baby plants will be

ready for planting.

The ones in the picture

above aren't quite ready yet. 

I like to wait

until the original mother

leaf that was pulled off the stem

withers and dies.

Then simply remove the mother

leaf from your baby succulent,

( being careful

not to remove the roots)

 Place

your succulent

in well draining

succulent/cactus soil,

and continue

to water once a week,

or whenever

The soil is TOTALLY Dry.

It takes anywhere from

6 months

to one year for succulents

to reach a

"normal" size.

Make sure your babies

get lots of sunlight,

a good soaking

only when the soil is

dry, and lots

of patience.

This particular

succulent has been growing

for about 3 1/2

months,

and it's still

itty bitty.

So don't worry if it

seems like

your plants just

aren't growing, it takes awhile.

Here's an example of a

"normal size"

succulent.

Note that, although

this method of

propagation works for

most succulents,

it doesn't

for others. I've tried

propagating

blue chalk sticks

using this method with

a zero success rate.

These plants require

a cutting for 

propagation, so the point is,

 don't be afraid to experiment.

Maybe you'll find that you need

to use a different

watering method or

less sunlight than I do. 

Figure out what

works for you.

Have fun.

And whatever you do,

DO NOT OVERWATER!

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Have you tried propegating succulents? We'd love to hear your tips!

Curious George And The Little Boy With The Funny Hat

This is George.

George is a good little.......

well, not actually a monkey

but we can pretend.

George was once a little girl's

 pencil topper

 but then she gave him away

and now he lives with his friend,

The Little Boy With The Funny Hat.

George has many adventures

with the little boy with the funny hat.

The little boy likes to take him everywhere!

One day he went along to the post office

And the library

and McDonalds.

George likes to ride around

 in the little boy's coat pocket

 or to be carried, 

all snuggled up in his hand.

Sometimes he shares the

 little boy's cookies

Or sits beside 'Honey Bear'

and listens to stories

on the computer.

Sometimes he gets to help

play baby doll

and take rides in the back

of the old, pink stroller.

George is a very tiny

little monkey,

and hard to keep track of.

When he gets lost,

the little boy with the funny hat

is very sad.

"Where is George?"

He will cry.

And the whole family will go

on a George hunt.

Just when they are sure they have seen George for the last time,

he will turn up again 

in the most unlikely places!

In the seal of the washing machine --

What a scary experience 

that was for George!

Tucked under a blanket

where he spent a whole night

and a day before being discovered --

What a joyful shout 

went up that day!

In an abandoned heap

where he spent the night at the bottom of the steps --

What a lonely night 

that must have been!

And many other places 

too numerous to mention.

George is a good little monkey and always up for an adventure but at the end of the day his favorite place to be

 is snuggled up in the hand of

 The Little Boy With The Funny Hat

 as he drifts off to sleep.

The End.

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This is a true story starring my youngest who is enamoured, at this point in life, by Curious George Stories and imaginary friends.

'George' has long since disappeared to who knows where. In his place, we now tote 'Honey Bear' who is much easier to keep track of. Someday, when 

The Little Boy With The Funny Hat

 is all grown up and the days of imaginary friends long past, I will pull out this story and show his children what a sweet little boy their daddy was.

39 Things

January is over and so is Q & A time -- the 'official' time, that is. Your questions are always welcome.

I just had a birthday on Sunday and I got the crazy notion to tell you all

                   39 Things About Me:

1. I am the youngest in a family of six.

2. I like empty trash cans.

3. I'm learning to crochet off of YouTube videos. It's so much fun. (Funny story behind this is that I got the idea about a month ago while lying in bed with the stomach flu. I watched crocheting tutorials to get my mind off my churning stomach.)

4. I have brown eyes.

5. When I have Facebook notifications, I save them up for later.

6. As of Saturday, I have a child with a permit. (I have no idea how we got here and I'm pretty sure I'll never be the same after my first ride in the passenger seat.)

7. I could easily live without ice cream.

8. I enjoy being alone.

9. I am just learning to like coffee.

10. I wear glasses.

11. I like to hang laundry outside. Even when it means icicles. (Actually, I'd never had that happen before!)

12. I was 23 when my oldest was born.

13. And 34 when my youngest was born.

14. I love to quilt.

15. I cannot make decisions.

16. I dislike winter.

17. I don't enjoy cooking.

18. I'm discovering that I love plants.

19. I got married at the age of 22.

20. I am 5' 2".

21. I have very thin hair and not much of it.

22. But I am proud of every grey one on my head.

23. I hate conflict.

24. I am not a Shopper.

25. I like to sew.

26. I have less than 20 dresses in my closet.

27. I am married to a man who loves to surprise people. (One day when we were shopping, I drooled over this cute cart. He bought it and snuck it in here Sunday after I thought they had given me my birthday gift. I was happy to make his day with my cluelessness.)

28. As a rule, I prefer working alone.

29. I wear a size 6 1/2 - 7 shoe.

30. And I have less than 10 pairs of them.

31. I don't like to drive

32. I am directionally challenged.

33. But I'm learning to go places with my GPS! (Friday me and my GPS went shopping in Holmes County while Chris and the two oldest had a quiz meet. Although I left all the goodies there, wandering around in this place was good for my soul.)

34. I hate making phone calls.

35. I lived in the same house from birth until marriage.

36. My sweaters/jackets are nearly all grey or white.

37. None of my grandparents are living.

38. I enjoy music.

39. Next year I will turn 40!

And now you know all about me ☺
How many things do we have in common?