tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59650588695201518712024-03-20T04:13:00.030-11:00About My Father's Business"He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much..." Luke 16:10Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.comBlogger919125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-89033983233235102392023-11-28T11:01:00.001-11:002023-11-28T11:01:28.434-11:00My Second Born<p>Confession: When Jasmine texted me a year ago in December and asked, "Shall I tell Uriah I'll date him?" My immediate reaction was "No!"</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLAvY-vHmNsaycaXTGagXWI6mG1-gMuz2xJoXiJN3mEYWLAunCQYV9gKdxtrKLbhwu5f1pS4SAzxVfPRhEFo45BZncFvIeCl8lqD_GlUuLjqLUitmMR_KkWQUUGxfgXvhRR90xdRbFZjmNQS11nix7aWfKGjTR5FrY4mPpr2zlDhzgW4LMi446wZf41zQ/s4160/20231128_143941.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLAvY-vHmNsaycaXTGagXWI6mG1-gMuz2xJoXiJN3mEYWLAunCQYV9gKdxtrKLbhwu5f1pS4SAzxVfPRhEFo45BZncFvIeCl8lqD_GlUuLjqLUitmMR_KkWQUUGxfgXvhRR90xdRbFZjmNQS11nix7aWfKGjTR5FrY4mPpr2zlDhzgW4LMi446wZf41zQ/s320/20231128_143941.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Jasmine is our oldest daughter, the second born child. Incidentally, that is one of the few places that she has ever come in second. Jasmine was my shortest labor and birth. She sat at four and a half months, said her first words and took her first steps at 9 months, repeated everything she heard by a year old, and was potty trained at eighteen months. The over-achieving didn't stop there, Jasmine was always eager to learn how to do the next thing -- tying her shoes, combing her hair, writing her name -- you name it, and she probably did it at a younger than average age. I always knew that once this child was released into the adult world, her wings would be spread wide to fly!</p><p>When Jasmine graduated from high school, and the perfect job turned up for her right here at home, I breathed a private sigh of relief. At least I'd have all my children at home for one more year. Alas and alack, one little "student week" at Sattler College quickly dashed that idea to pieces!</p><p>When Jasmine left for a year at Sattler, it was a hard goodbye for me. I knew in my heart that the wings had been spread and this child was going to fly. Obviously, I wanted her to fly; encouraged her to! But, oh my. The change felt so big; so irrevocable. </p><p>I won't go into how we all survived -- all thrived, actually. We grew and changed and discovered how amazingly adaptable God created us to be. All that to say, when Jasmine texted me last December, my immediate reaction had nothing to do with the young man who had asked her. It had everything to do with me clinging to one last little thread of hope that this over achieving second born would maybe, just once, do something in her life at an age that was later than average. </p><p>Just so you know, I got over it. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIyRRuwgmcyH4ANTtPjQk8KLdd3-fzrBKlU7XqW5BqfJVk0FFhqbXPJElTYhYWMKX529q7LjBPgiju2tih7B1vxyn5jJ_MhuEWA6L8eyujf_2dTg8YlyQKNqDMUSSZpe6XM2SDbNr3ie6c7E9pTHnMpn8yp_V-wmYlSFGHSkA5sQxVi53IJF3UNv96f4/s2016/20231128_162842.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1134" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpIyRRuwgmcyH4ANTtPjQk8KLdd3-fzrBKlU7XqW5BqfJVk0FFhqbXPJElTYhYWMKX529q7LjBPgiju2tih7B1vxyn5jJ_MhuEWA6L8eyujf_2dTg8YlyQKNqDMUSSZpe6XM2SDbNr3ie6c7E9pTHnMpn8yp_V-wmYlSFGHSkA5sQxVi53IJF3UNv96f4/s320/20231128_162842.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>I am quite happy and excited to announce to the world that Jasmine and Uriah are engaged! We are so thrilled for them. </p><p>It's been a privilege to have a front row seat in their journey together. I'm not here to tell you their story, but I will say a few things: I have watched these two and seen their desire to follow Jesus. I've watched them have hard conversations with each other. I've watched them reach out and care for the people around them. I've watched them laugh together and cry together. I've watched them walk through Jasmine being diagnosed with Lyme. I've watched them grieve their losses and grapple with whether this relationship was worth all the work. I've watched them be real and honest with each other. Through it all, I've watched love -- the slow, steady kind; the kind that is a choice, not just a feeling -- bloom and grow and flourish. I am grateful. </p><p>As a parent, the terrifying truth is that we have no control over the choices our children choose to make. We teach them and train them and guide them, but in the end, the path they choose to take is up to them. Because of Jasmine's personality and over-achieving nature, I have often laughed when people commended us on her actions or successes and said, "What makes you think we had anything to do with it??" Ultimately, I am so grateful to God for the path He has led her on so far. I am grateful that He chose to cross her path with one, Uriah O'Terry, and I look forward to seeing the paths He will lead them on together.</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-57680986106133473162023-11-14T04:18:00.000-11:002023-11-14T04:18:06.220-11:00Practicing Presence<p>I am pausing to check in with my senses this morning...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZQjZWP47QmoEMUUAUUxo5PKtlAnKME0yhuO8z2SraTpVwSOjTwHnsm53Rt7QvSsEqGuTTeXy2UZCyHn_9AN8GdIpUNhK1vm424XTrVC6_1MCUVimiJ3TxBJPrY-YkzkwD1P5WAeUN-Iv2wwwvkK4agv2pX4tghuxZ3NZ01YBuW7xA2OB7DIuk7HalyA/s4160/20231114_093245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOZQjZWP47QmoEMUUAUUxo5PKtlAnKME0yhuO8z2SraTpVwSOjTwHnsm53Rt7QvSsEqGuTTeXy2UZCyHn_9AN8GdIpUNhK1vm424XTrVC6_1MCUVimiJ3TxBJPrY-YkzkwD1P5WAeUN-Iv2wwwvkK4agv2pX4tghuxZ3NZ01YBuW7xA2OB7DIuk7HalyA/s320/20231114_093245.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>π I see the sun streaming through my windows (they look clean from this angle but I know better)</p><p>π I see blue sky out the window, and a tree with a few leaves still hanging on tenaciously </p><p>π I see how the sun casts shadows and highlights </p><p>π I see clutter on the island, laundry waiting to be carried downstairs, Legos scattered on the floor; little pictures of the people who live here</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSta9_G_-QW-rynaf68bEBQQbfKj3tt4A9hYFgI04kZ9Q_OQYU7NKPJ8Lk4ZlQ5MT7_MKSL-BDyLQB5aG19bLEdYHXiUZfNpfLw8fQVMqEe6BD8-ZnxVLdlfatIn9_9zUZx9wVNVxUXhKwm0YTcKX3rgvqd85hclROzxOuub_gi-7sm1blEOJIgLLrdaU/s4160/20231114_100807.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSta9_G_-QW-rynaf68bEBQQbfKj3tt4A9hYFgI04kZ9Q_OQYU7NKPJ8Lk4ZlQ5MT7_MKSL-BDyLQB5aG19bLEdYHXiUZfNpfLw8fQVMqEe6BD8-ZnxVLdlfatIn9_9zUZx9wVNVxUXhKwm0YTcKX3rgvqd85hclROzxOuub_gi-7sm1blEOJIgLLrdaU/s320/20231114_100807.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>π I hear the clock ticking steadily</p><p>π I hear a fly buzzing</p><p>π I hear the fridge humming quietly</p><p>π I hear the occasional tick of the oven as it bakes</p><p>π I hear a bird calling noisily outside</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEEvQ5oO7qEe4H0x8k6ji82Cqp08INugkv0Pw2lyI2hzzJ9JSjY9BH8nlPG0TN5-EJ1B0o4GGn8PEXjmAoxxdMWRYeFyazUnrF87kCB2Eb-CHJhwi1LIe2Z3Lj_6ec-cpqENAU3WgtxV1teu7K6unr3WBtHrzMKrm5Mu0lIvxrsuOmo9UAtLf7H-VKXVc/s4160/20231114_100244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEEvQ5oO7qEe4H0x8k6ji82Cqp08INugkv0Pw2lyI2hzzJ9JSjY9BH8nlPG0TN5-EJ1B0o4GGn8PEXjmAoxxdMWRYeFyazUnrF87kCB2Eb-CHJhwi1LIe2Z3Lj_6ec-cpqENAU3WgtxV1teu7K6unr3WBtHrzMKrm5Mu0lIvxrsuOmo9UAtLf7H-VKXVc/s320/20231114_100244.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>π I smell pecan pie baking</p><p>π I smell the faint aroma of my morning cup of coffee lingering in the air</p><p>π I smell the cinnamon-y pumpkin smell of pumpkin pie</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7gBzU8N9mVOaWHt2CWnu8VzyCnpQEgzDeo-IrJem-Y3CiH8sobDVugzWOEvoba-f4lb9mQSxXCgNxzW93FBzmB8r1acaDsYQHGheyv7OmpyuihdhGRUxoIe_7z8os1UPbr9I5RzH7GDM1Az912dDv2KRq9wnDkyLHY8qAe9VEtn12tgOIjCzTbrZwdFA/s4160/20231114_100041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7gBzU8N9mVOaWHt2CWnu8VzyCnpQEgzDeo-IrJem-Y3CiH8sobDVugzWOEvoba-f4lb9mQSxXCgNxzW93FBzmB8r1acaDsYQHGheyv7OmpyuihdhGRUxoIe_7z8os1UPbr9I5RzH7GDM1Az912dDv2KRq9wnDkyLHY8qAe9VEtn12tgOIjCzTbrZwdFA/s320/20231114_100041.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>π I feel the warmth of the sun on my feet</p><p>π I feel the sway of the recliner as I move</p><p>π I feel the chilly-ness of my fingers</p><p>π I feel the bumpiness of the pillow cover under my arm</p><p><br /></p><p>β₯ I sense a deepening of my breathing</p><p>β₯ I sense a calming of my busy thoughts</p><p>β₯ I sense a relaxing in my shoulders</p><p>β₯ I sense the presence of Jesus here with me today</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-66874454566709685792023-09-02T10:04:00.004-11:002023-09-29T04:36:17.850-11:0010 Pros and Cons: Mothering At This Stage<p>For me, "this stage" of mothering is a fluid one. Currently it means being mom to five children, ages 21 - 10, who are all back at home for the school year. Last school year, there were four at home, and for most of two months this summer, we were down to three children. Like any other stage of life, there's all kinds of wonderful things and hard things. I thought it might be fun to do a pro and con post like I've done a couple times in the past. </p><p>***</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwL1-re6WXT4dCVGCwnS1_-9K-QWXI-6ko4Gg_Ce2XnXeBmkybDg1vnsTTwsVxKhn-8-zABYGP8lJBd9bkKf9wSMVTY5FBhsmCcIVfMmQVg2JLgBMRJ0aTIfESXA_gziBpaMqLqRfRC-OxVxSlzEHH9tubn7Rxco4szugqLkT9MCG06pxctngwVSRlOfo/s1599/IMG-20230809-WA0006.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1599" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwL1-re6WXT4dCVGCwnS1_-9K-QWXI-6ko4Gg_Ce2XnXeBmkybDg1vnsTTwsVxKhn-8-zABYGP8lJBd9bkKf9wSMVTY5FBhsmCcIVfMmQVg2JLgBMRJ0aTIfESXA_gziBpaMqLqRfRC-OxVxSlzEHH9tubn7Rxco4szugqLkT9MCG06pxctngwVSRlOfo/s320/IMG-20230809-WA0006.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>1) Everyone is old enough to take care of themselves. (That doesn't mean they always do, of course. But nobody needs me to dress them or feed them, etc.)</p><p><i>Sometimes I'm tempted to think the days of taking care of my children may have been easier than the current days, where I'm often biting my tongue and reminding myself that nobody will die if they wear those two colors together, or didn't comb down the unruly hair, or... various other things that I will leave unmentioned. (I've convinced myself that no one actually notices or cares, so why point them out here?)</i></p><p>2) Everyone is old enough to know how to behave. (Again, do they always? No. But they know how. My life isn't one constant training session on kindness and sharing and staying out of the potted plants.)</p><p><i>To be honest, I sometimes would prefer the potted plant episodes over the adjustments of siblings coming and going and the constant changes in family dynamics that all of that brings. I have a lot more answers for the former, than I do for the latter. </i></p><p>3) Mom can leave for a day (or even several) and it's not the end of the world. In fact, sometimes I think they're secretly glad when mom is gone for the day! That's okay. I can well remember having those same feelings as a teenager. </p><p><i>Ironically enough, it also sometimes feels like I am indispensable. I love to help the teacher with his checking, and provide things for the student with their project, and enable the pursuit of friendships, and critique the writing paper, and give ideas for the teacher's helper with all her little people stories.... but occasionally I want to throw my hand up and say, "Hey! I have a life too!"</i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPV4tIBOKP0IhShf_gSUZzUPicIylmad4RrzOi44W3TNw6sRa16hEp5jd8TbZWNI8Yv_limyeitNt3G-02XjwPSb9i1DoNroNAzzOdjG8nLW4NAfZQDMbrJ-EqIUPVW1DuwAyVYbXzdiqWOxfrqQFZgSJ31tsQ3CzjKzqfrDGRHz_fDYv5y22Qg0VhqT0/s2880/20230902_165005.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPV4tIBOKP0IhShf_gSUZzUPicIylmad4RrzOi44W3TNw6sRa16hEp5jd8TbZWNI8Yv_limyeitNt3G-02XjwPSb9i1DoNroNAzzOdjG8nLW4NAfZQDMbrJ-EqIUPVW1DuwAyVYbXzdiqWOxfrqQFZgSJ31tsQ3CzjKzqfrDGRHz_fDYv5y22Qg0VhqT0/s320/20230902_165005.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>4) Nobody is keeping me awake at night. When you wake up one morning and discover that someone has thrown up during the night and they either took care of it themselves, or had an older siblings help, you know you have arrived at the sweet spot of motherhood. </p><p><i>I don't struggle with this too much, but sometimes my mind runs away with the many and various Things Going On in the lives of the five children under my roof, and sleep evades me even if nobody is waking me up to go potty or to clean up a mess. </i></p><p>5) I am at home alone during the school year. Only if you are an introvert like me, who gets their best work and thinking done when no one else is around, will you understand quite how amazing this phenomenon is. </p><p><i>Also, only if you are an introvert like me, will you understand how exhausting it is sometimes to keep track of all the different schedules, all the different plans, all the different homework, all the different lunches, all the last minute changes in plans, all the forgotten details, all the dropping-this-to-go-do-that-ness that goes on in this stage of mothering. </i></p><p>6) The most interesting conversations in my life time are happening right at my supper table. The depth of discussion -- from questiong theology, to expounding on literature, to recounting old family memories, to hashing classroom control, to dissecting prime factors, to reciting Adventures In Odyssey and Hank The Cowdog, to arguing about definitions of words, to analyzing child training, to... you name it -- is truly amazing. Sometimes I just sit there and marvel (and grin).</p><p><i>The intensity of the questions and conversations sometimes make my head spin. Debating and dissecting is not my first language and sometimes I'd be fine going back to the cute questions and quotes that come out of toddlers mouths. </i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9uHxAWh4mGlB_Y5ubLt4jdrNaw9sc6b88oLeJBZNUKexmF5A7K9OAIh39YkOILa1P8muKmGS5L0ZyhzjZQEXj3Bomt75mGMAjvuF-PkuUTGFNN9-8_ZClfj9DBckTd2A3rNMpFLzmBd5OUxvNoc_A_674uT3h330mqx42eJjLVOK9pFu5b3jMzvqsIE/s2592/20230807_185854.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2592" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9uHxAWh4mGlB_Y5ubLt4jdrNaw9sc6b88oLeJBZNUKexmF5A7K9OAIh39YkOILa1P8muKmGS5L0ZyhzjZQEXj3Bomt75mGMAjvuF-PkuUTGFNN9-8_ZClfj9DBckTd2A3rNMpFLzmBd5OUxvNoc_A_674uT3h330mqx42eJjLVOK9pFu5b3jMzvqsIE/s320/20230807_185854.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>7) One on one time with my husband is so much more plentiful. If we decide, on the spur of the moment (which is my husband's specialty), that we want to go on a date for supper or go on a walk after supper or...I dunno... go in our room and take a nap on some random Saturday afternoon, we usually jolly well can!</p><p><i>Being the people pleaser that I tend to be, so</i><i>metimes instead of just enjoying this lovely phenomenon, I </i><i>find myself caught up in trying to make sure that everybody living at my house is happy. Most of the time it's really not worth the worry (see #3)!</i></p><p>8) There are certain jobs around the house that I rarely do myself. For example - I don't wash the dishes very often these days, and I pretty much never clean anything in the basement where all of the children sleep. </p><p><i>The flip side of that, is the fact that there is a lot more work when everyone is living at home -- laundry piles up at a prodigious rate; more cooking and food preservation is required; the house gets dirtier in far less time and, while there are more people around to help with things, you can never quite count on adult children being avaliable to help when the help is needed!</i></p><p>9) They are all old enough to scrounge up their own food if I don't cook for them. This might be dangerous for children who have a mother who doesn't like to cook. Please don't ask them how often they are left to scrounge!</p><p><i>The difference in the amount of groceries we go through with everyone at home is astounding. Just when I think I've stocked up, I realize that the milk won't last through the weekend or the granola I just made has all disappeared!</i></p><p>10) There is the most immense satisfaction and joy in watching your children be best friends. There's nothing quite like it and I love it. </p><p><i>There really is no con for this one. I will be very honest: there have been moments of intense struggle in the adjustments and changes that have come in this stage of mothering. I can't tell you how many times I have thought I would write about the challenges of this strange, fluid stage of parenthood. But it's in those moments of observing my children's friendship that I am just overcome with the privilege of having them all here under one roof, and the challenges suddenly don't seem worth mentioning. </i></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRd_3AjlBQzE0lpqTO9FXzU_iB3AVXlDctYg7v4EI-ddjjgRwPwqV6Cz5o4v4yyOw4d9XTJh3yADYRkltdNNTVYgq9CWoTA8Mtua75x66Wrw4I_78GUnpXMbdrA7zddcsgAamSdQFZ4WhaArmqjTMwnXG3tCgyF6-GqhGMgJ_qvDTXWzX15SrKCSr6yKs/s4160/20230809_120829.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3120" data-original-width="4160" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRd_3AjlBQzE0lpqTO9FXzU_iB3AVXlDctYg7v4EI-ddjjgRwPwqV6Cz5o4v4yyOw4d9XTJh3yADYRkltdNNTVYgq9CWoTA8Mtua75x66Wrw4I_78GUnpXMbdrA7zddcsgAamSdQFZ4WhaArmqjTMwnXG3tCgyF6-GqhGMgJ_qvDTXWzX15SrKCSr6yKs/s320/20230809_120829.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><i><br /></i><p></p><p>***</p><p>I hope you enjoyed this little pro and con post. I hope I gave an honest enough description to give you a glimpse of some of the joys and challenges without sounding all whiney or all rosy. Because here's the thing -- life is pretty much a 50/50 deal! It's okay to talk about both. </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-53360201112115243002023-07-21T12:38:00.002-11:002023-07-22T01:56:00.534-11:00Summer<p>There are approximately four weeks until school starts. </p><p>I'll let that soak in for a minute. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAMxq2UpqB8_SZl7knHP_RNR4r2pQ0gRheHJ2BlZvM_x_l-ikg-Tri9zFXstoKk_oWuULHPyPt_iswHVXQl2JX-uJd5u6AhQjLZcT8Nhk304gqdBRRCzzp44Bv6WYub_vt1AVcj3wUvU20AWcYItMZZy6pWPYRvgeKF8LrtfWjHQCBRkKQTl7UB0C_x98/s4160/20230604_202939.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAMxq2UpqB8_SZl7knHP_RNR4r2pQ0gRheHJ2BlZvM_x_l-ikg-Tri9zFXstoKk_oWuULHPyPt_iswHVXQl2JX-uJd5u6AhQjLZcT8Nhk304gqdBRRCzzp44Bv6WYub_vt1AVcj3wUvU20AWcYItMZZy6pWPYRvgeKF8LrtfWjHQCBRkKQTl7UB0C_x98/s320/20230604_202939.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Daisies will take over your flowerbed,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">in case you didn't know...</span></div><p>On another note, it's been seven weeks since I've written a blog post. </p><p>Time is just a vapor, right?</p><p>I feel like we have been unbelievably lazy this summer -- not a lot of plans, not a lot of projects. There's been a lot of staying up late and sleeping in late for the three children at home; transitioning to a school schedule is going to be a jolt to all of our systems!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggxthEVKdEkMWncTt0QWfTZyX0y6sUSvz9nXjTwyIUwyd4huwDimmw7zrKH48j2IDF3mmSFNPE7WIoaDoNoondxR8yDf6ByPv7_HWClQ8BwzV3pQb-a-qsp3JK8POxM285pCNPucdDBtUAb3Z5y-YjY6piB_AblA06vdacfrrMyU5Awk1KWYe_wMcKVxs/s2592/20230604_092039.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="1944" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggxthEVKdEkMWncTt0QWfTZyX0y6sUSvz9nXjTwyIUwyd4huwDimmw7zrKH48j2IDF3mmSFNPE7WIoaDoNoondxR8yDf6ByPv7_HWClQ8BwzV3pQb-a-qsp3JK8POxM285pCNPucdDBtUAb3Z5y-YjY6piB_AblA06vdacfrrMyU5Awk1KWYe_wMcKVxs/s320/20230604_092039.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Apparently you start shrinking after age 40,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">in case you didn't know...</span></div><p>We have done a few out-of-the-ordinary/fun things. In June, I spent a couple of days in Indiana with two of my sisters. The three of us visited relatives and shopped and relaxed and laughed and caught up on each other's lives. We also took a little mini family vacation over the fourth of July. We packed up our bikes, and got a motel for three nights in a town an hour away, and enjoyed time with our three youngest children. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF16BWixkUj1uj7m09Dv97TaRChTmoQ3JHnCboV1k9PnuvndWCRu-wdJw2dCFrEAmqH_rgevLPFRQeyG5fm4aAVp84-WcKnZN5Syd8m1qfvq64po5xCQBa50yGmDQF_Huk5ovHnpvOmq8uwOteJIiUOtBoFHJfvkkGB_LUUbyUgIBTEGmQMnkwPQU-1Vg/s2880/20230721_164108.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF16BWixkUj1uj7m09Dv97TaRChTmoQ3JHnCboV1k9PnuvndWCRu-wdJw2dCFrEAmqH_rgevLPFRQeyG5fm4aAVp84-WcKnZN5Syd8m1qfvq64po5xCQBa50yGmDQF_Huk5ovHnpvOmq8uwOteJIiUOtBoFHJfvkkGB_LUUbyUgIBTEGmQMnkwPQU-1Vg/s320/20230721_164108.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">You don't have to do </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">elaborate things </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">to make good memories, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">in case you didn't know...</span></div><p>Marietta, Ohio has a lovely bike trail that we thoroughly enjoyed. We took a ride down the river on a Sternwheeler, played several rounds of mini golf, played games, went and picked raspberries at a u-pick patch, and just generally had a good time. </p><p>My gardening ambitions have not gone as planned this summer. I don't have space for a garden, but I can never quite give up on trying to have a few fresh veggies. I bought tomato, cucumber and squash plants to tuck in flowerbeds, and planted some green beans in my tiny little "garden" spot. My green beans have lots of tiny little beans on them, but the rest of my plants did not fare so well. The tomatoe, cucumber, and squash plants finally look about the size they should have a month ago and I don't know if there's enough time left in the growing season for them to produce anything or not!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhye9lnlQzBpTq8PAKChcCEz6A0xqTF4PMTiXp8GoJG4biYMjQmznPxKyeyU4e7d_02RvwLZ8Iug8_7tv578Fs2fpxpbvrU3lJyyP0aewM0-jspPR34lSk06QXeqzThAXemFGQQhDx0612bsAjg_ueofRfDi1oanHl0yJwckIJ_s8iXgroJLZeW8Zn-xRU/s4160/20230607_070625.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhye9lnlQzBpTq8PAKChcCEz6A0xqTF4PMTiXp8GoJG4biYMjQmznPxKyeyU4e7d_02RvwLZ8Iug8_7tv578Fs2fpxpbvrU3lJyyP0aewM0-jspPR34lSk06QXeqzThAXemFGQQhDx0612bsAjg_ueofRfDi1oanHl0yJwckIJ_s8iXgroJLZeW8Zn-xRU/s320/20230607_070625.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Plants that have been dug up</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Fifty-eleven times do not grow and thrive,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">in case you didn't know...</span></div><p>I tried all the tricks to fend off the critters, but finally we declared war. In the space of five nights, <strike>we</strike> Chris caught (and disposed of) six pesky raccoons! There's not many things that make me downright mad, but those coons sure were one of them. The stinkers were so cute, sitting there in the cage, that you couldn't help but feel a little sorry for them. A few minutes thinking about all of their digging shenanigans was all it took to harden my heart very quickly, though. I wish I had actually counted how many times I replanted those plants; you cannot even imagine! I'm feeling the anger just thinking about it...</p><p>Thankfully, the coons did not ruin the lives of every growing thing. The wild raspberries along the edge of our woods had more berries than usual, and Jennifer braved the weeds and the brambles to pick them. We enjoyed several pans of <a href="https://bethany-aboutmyfathersbusiness.blogspot.com/2017/06/a-recipe-and-luncheon.html?m=1">crumb cake</a> and discovered that raspberries in place of blueberries in our muffin recipe are phenomenal. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlPQjgOQEliim6dvY-aXx9b5F3_GF4-JJKQEnAAxXcSDGSiLU0o1kVnT5v_Z0UHF85Bbvg6c311LBoN50Rho8kKEFUEI5U4OtzKP8uk1e7nxj_hSaqlv08acjfexs2Bb3WtJYzhxgrdAHqmM8I7a_Ib9Tyfjj9oivJvfqjc289L_Qe8UIHWjux-_xeUc/s2880/20230721_172257.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlPQjgOQEliim6dvY-aXx9b5F3_GF4-JJKQEnAAxXcSDGSiLU0o1kVnT5v_Z0UHF85Bbvg6c311LBoN50Rho8kKEFUEI5U4OtzKP8uk1e7nxj_hSaqlv08acjfexs2Bb3WtJYzhxgrdAHqmM8I7a_Ib9Tyfjj9oivJvfqjc289L_Qe8UIHWjux-_xeUc/s320/20230721_172257.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I'm not even a fruit lover</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">but these two treats were winners, </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">in case you wondered...</span></div><p>The coons also didn't bother the flowers that Jasmine has slowly gathered from the neighbor lady, other friends, and our "yard". The deer tried to take care of them, but I deterred them with liquid fence, and they had the good sense to stop their nightly visits. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7XjsUoyyckhJG2xz3T8KLLkzd49pfYlQT18tPAt68ZE1AB5qnXC7QfELRrl05HuFu9JpNF3eClRYqtfDmV9rMqiJkOG6l914mLsufG73mDwdT-_vmWr1h7KGSgarFh0f4kYjnlKHv8o31MX6yPzbfAJsirbeQdwALDQPs1npb9KOtJxzVMCYvkwUDxRE/s2880/20230721_154052.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7XjsUoyyckhJG2xz3T8KLLkzd49pfYlQT18tPAt68ZE1AB5qnXC7QfELRrl05HuFu9JpNF3eClRYqtfDmV9rMqiJkOG6l914mLsufG73mDwdT-_vmWr1h7KGSgarFh0f4kYjnlKHv8o31MX6yPzbfAJsirbeQdwALDQPs1npb9KOtJxzVMCYvkwUDxRE/s320/20230721_154052.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Puttering around the flowers</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">and pulling weeds </span><span style="font-size: x-small;">is good therapy,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">in case you didn't know...</span></div><p>There's still approximately four more weeks of summer. In them, Isaac will come home from Faith Builder's and Jasmine will come home from Boston. We'll probably have a corn day and can some green beans and tomatoes and enjoy fresh peaches. There will be more late nights and more sleeping in and more enjoying the slow pace of no schedule. There may or may not be more blog posts.</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-83512685518061622002023-06-02T13:56:00.000-11:002023-06-02T13:56:51.385-11:00Anniversary Number Twenty-Two<p><a href="https://bethany-aboutmyfathersbusiness.blogspot.com/2013/07/our-cabin-last-week-in-hocking-hills-oh.html?m=0">Ten years ago</a> our family spent several nights at a cute, little cabin in Hocking Hills, OH. That vacation was part of several <a href="https://bethany-aboutmyfathersbusiness.blogspot.com/2013/06/bible-reading-extravaganza.html?m=0">Prizes</a> that Chris had set up as rewards for reading the Bible through in a month. Charles was only three months old, but I think all the rest of our children have good memories from that cabin. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtnZjf9BG6NDt7K_ojxKuJxoLq21dPhXQs_ee_CUmzjx3DoK9cpKLemepnwXv94R9JjiDRT1Am10BYi7OX4jZspIYcVAHqdzpC2HdkI3U60snies4J3PZ-g2jBDwgyesbxKqNH8fP1kgDf8G4GHSsW6mH2_nHBp2F8Zp-u0dzNYmOPKQ4xYwqYd9w/s720/20230602_104357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="551" data-original-width="720" height="245" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdtnZjf9BG6NDt7K_ojxKuJxoLq21dPhXQs_ee_CUmzjx3DoK9cpKLemepnwXv94R9JjiDRT1Am10BYi7OX4jZspIYcVAHqdzpC2HdkI3U60snies4J3PZ-g2jBDwgyesbxKqNH8fP1kgDf8G4GHSsW6mH2_nHBp2F8Zp-u0dzNYmOPKQ4xYwqYd9w/s320/20230602_104357.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Today is our twenty-second anniversary, and Chris and I just got back from spending two nights at that same cabin. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIio1n58omRCKYbMyH9hmh-capKvppA5dmaiilehH6uD2gZcX498SIZShFsq8wrcHZgTuFgdae5u3XTeb-dcPipWUCNJa_apyW8JOR4dYcTEGgnkzS2Qn_EU6JZd8FoM3z20oX-9cW-X9avG6ZPyd_Lmk168ENQZ5Jm3rn1WpsUDXsrlRGldRwgP74/s4160/20230531_155550.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIio1n58omRCKYbMyH9hmh-capKvppA5dmaiilehH6uD2gZcX498SIZShFsq8wrcHZgTuFgdae5u3XTeb-dcPipWUCNJa_apyW8JOR4dYcTEGgnkzS2Qn_EU6JZd8FoM3z20oX-9cW-X9avG6ZPyd_Lmk168ENQZ5Jm3rn1WpsUDXsrlRGldRwgP74/s320/20230531_155550.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was absolutely lovely. </div><p>Chris had booked the cabin nearly a year ago and had no idea that the weeks leading up to it would be full of activity, and that the dates would be a couple of the last days Jasmine would be home before leaving again for the summer, and that his wife would think that maybe they should cancel. Had he known, he would have probably quietly booked it anyway, knowing that it would be just the thing that we needed. He's smart like that. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2LRxiv3kVkdgEI_-qPlztfKfU-lwddcJC5DMZzzGP1oNTZCboOR_cDd6qpbQhwq83cIz8XuL4_AV5d51MNnMryPoBuiriuQK7w9Wp4QUzAwmpAPi6iot8Q0tEdL8Yj73SviWsfeTP2SL65NpuGACcjM0suOT-cq1t5oYFBjEjFWuH12UeFThhaEy/s4160/20230601_105329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje2LRxiv3kVkdgEI_-qPlztfKfU-lwddcJC5DMZzzGP1oNTZCboOR_cDd6qpbQhwq83cIz8XuL4_AV5d51MNnMryPoBuiriuQK7w9Wp4QUzAwmpAPi6iot8Q0tEdL8Yj73SviWsfeTP2SL65NpuGACcjM0suOT-cq1t5oYFBjEjFWuH12UeFThhaEy/s320/20230601_105329.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgui2-1mSRtzIDm-ERrAKQ8G-1TWCDBGx-MAg7Arodzx_TPZxhL08CesmRpx1wxRToDEW3KZWbMURMuut1kVerrKEv9lna0zDw8srmYRoZw0xDEmKZBpfCh5lQVhRdwxI_SCSrqB_jj0ocPiCgmG4XaGkylA9pFS-Bl00Xg3IE-Rrtw0f0HRnb_d9rA/s4160/20230601_105922.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgui2-1mSRtzIDm-ERrAKQ8G-1TWCDBGx-MAg7Arodzx_TPZxhL08CesmRpx1wxRToDEW3KZWbMURMuut1kVerrKEv9lna0zDw8srmYRoZw0xDEmKZBpfCh5lQVhRdwxI_SCSrqB_jj0ocPiCgmG4XaGkylA9pFS-Bl00Xg3IE-Rrtw0f0HRnb_d9rA/s320/20230601_105922.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We hiked gorgeous trails</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChaslOSnXyeUs2uD3ozW0d7AiIbCHngi4tS_-Bu5LprdK5TrGvgDcC6g-l4brGVmDA3oA-A5srrc_E38FXj4DnsyWszVhWsKfU62xgFtj4XJcryY705HEN-SuGwoDXJm5arPgoSncu-jxujQNLweanHRQ_gdfF4UvOGPXtZ7EHTN0Tbbieryv8iMC/s2048/IMG-20230601-WA0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChaslOSnXyeUs2uD3ozW0d7AiIbCHngi4tS_-Bu5LprdK5TrGvgDcC6g-l4brGVmDA3oA-A5srrc_E38FXj4DnsyWszVhWsKfU62xgFtj4XJcryY705HEN-SuGwoDXJm5arPgoSncu-jxujQNLweanHRQ_gdfF4UvOGPXtZ7EHTN0Tbbieryv8iMC/s320/IMG-20230601-WA0007.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDXYVD0NjDPkk0dt2Oc2KQ0Rfg17vUenLG9xeqL8B_6847LdNGpllhNZP2Hd5Y5hF2FRQetqOKr_ZVSAoRcILVbeUorpNDVuOoODbCGFQjpdbAGuWVqc9HRVZzw36HQPtg0VU4CBCn5GFBpmp3fhfWRKZPm1Cp6nsIHZUbMZqeCk0zdPNwwkYFbmsR/s2048/IMG-20230601-WA0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDXYVD0NjDPkk0dt2Oc2KQ0Rfg17vUenLG9xeqL8B_6847LdNGpllhNZP2Hd5Y5hF2FRQetqOKr_ZVSAoRcILVbeUorpNDVuOoODbCGFQjpdbAGuWVqc9HRVZzw36HQPtg0VU4CBCn5GFBpmp3fhfWRKZPm1Cp6nsIHZUbMZqeCk0zdPNwwkYFbmsR/s320/IMG-20230601-WA0008.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4gx6_Y9rcXL4JzzgGEUBz9t1P0imto8ya4lA4XEfaYEsBF0QDL7OEodutY0Al0L3Vl62ORYkAszKGKg-uYH217uI7RInv3XCPgLaxZx-DJCKvfTzC5a_fem0uPSYGRsglAJtXyqQgnxMErJn2dW61LsT4XvVF4qtxLo9e2WYCd_iYlL7SX2dUpIoH/s2048/IMG-20230601-WA0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4gx6_Y9rcXL4JzzgGEUBz9t1P0imto8ya4lA4XEfaYEsBF0QDL7OEodutY0Al0L3Vl62ORYkAszKGKg-uYH217uI7RInv3XCPgLaxZx-DJCKvfTzC5a_fem0uPSYGRsglAJtXyqQgnxMErJn2dW61LsT4XvVF4qtxLo9e2WYCd_iYlL7SX2dUpIoH/s320/IMG-20230601-WA0010.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And climbed around in </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">the intriguing "Rock House"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CWoCuLVoc1q67PSvNfJLsDuyNT4lhUbmOj7_cS2QRoeYd3MPPPNjz7-HoSKu0aLiExi8JPXxJSkA7PZrFF2Xu0UlqVlkprkzBU3NFrcLOcModQ7ush6GhXLVdxIxSkYX4n-j_7tqM_G5YbgfydBwlJziZbUjTArFrAjScyp5fBOG-ymKrY5IRd5G/s4160/20230601_091650.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CWoCuLVoc1q67PSvNfJLsDuyNT4lhUbmOj7_cS2QRoeYd3MPPPNjz7-HoSKu0aLiExi8JPXxJSkA7PZrFF2Xu0UlqVlkprkzBU3NFrcLOcModQ7ush6GhXLVdxIxSkYX4n-j_7tqM_G5YbgfydBwlJziZbUjTArFrAjScyp5fBOG-ymKrY5IRd5G/s320/20230601_091650.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmqUbOmVcbiczf6PxfQxU0lz2YP4xF8r06w78HmMgJHnDM9K8p7H8680y0v5Bot8cX4ZmJe116IJFCmvdGMPA-fZ6XAFYx1z9xqcbluZVddfTelenhbLwtjK3KDPaVg7rzldidjkMpJsBbyH321IOE62iIKZEYDv7wy016yutXhH6YZZ2zYvuu-gx-/s4160/20230601_091538.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmqUbOmVcbiczf6PxfQxU0lz2YP4xF8r06w78HmMgJHnDM9K8p7H8680y0v5Bot8cX4ZmJe116IJFCmvdGMPA-fZ6XAFYx1z9xqcbluZVddfTelenhbLwtjK3KDPaVg7rzldidjkMpJsBbyH321IOE62iIKZEYDv7wy016yutXhH6YZZ2zYvuu-gx-/s320/20230601_091538.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We had yummy breakfasts</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkMFmdlzzrlx7rnkGf_xA_XUNCBY1mg6azSk3b7r2U3BOXt1AF2ZTGhdHjbTuUuaRS2Zlh9fdrGqPtNpwleNuRNuUbmHEVP0jI6USdcKmhEZxhleiqRjHIMwAgLPYeGLysUuSpOeSm1ctFiTgCYeyQnNO0cpi6wzRU_0Otbic8lkl0wdSHRwuIp2-/s4160/20230601_191928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFkMFmdlzzrlx7rnkGf_xA_XUNCBY1mg6azSk3b7r2U3BOXt1AF2ZTGhdHjbTuUuaRS2Zlh9fdrGqPtNpwleNuRNuUbmHEVP0jI6USdcKmhEZxhleiqRjHIMwAgLPYeGLysUuSpOeSm1ctFiTgCYeyQnNO0cpi6wzRU_0Otbic8lkl0wdSHRwuIp2-/s320/20230601_191928.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And ate ice cream right out of the carton</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The cabin had an adjoining game room with a small basketball hoop, dart board, bean bag toss and hot tub. I wasn't much competition at any of the games, but we got a lot of good laughs out of my poor skills. One of our memories from ten years ago was the fun little dollar bill game; we were delighted to find it was still going strong! <div><br /></div><div>There are at least 9 one dollar bills hidden inside the cabin. There is a journal where guests leave clues for where to find them. So, the last entry in the journal has clues for 9 dollar bills. We found six of them, and could either replace them once we found them, or hide them in new places and write new clues. We were too lazy to write new clues this time, but ten years ago we had fun re-hiding them as a family. <br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkeCSZnUUOaJcV11vTP8m3Br-sa6L6EzQxw_8fTWavaB-DWwNxnvNnma6qXGdaLm0bce9xCAYsofMdTSmXXtT7vPFBNXLGGI0vR6jva-LJ4wwKzZOL6P1Ojj-WOZGw83DZt9Xq50RqLhEol9ODmDIwpIHC84oupRHCWgG7Mir7Oujg7vLiLxcwUsOI/s3840/IMG-20230601-WA0016.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3840" data-original-width="2160" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkeCSZnUUOaJcV11vTP8m3Br-sa6L6EzQxw_8fTWavaB-DWwNxnvNnma6qXGdaLm0bce9xCAYsofMdTSmXXtT7vPFBNXLGGI0vR6jva-LJ4wwKzZOL6P1Ojj-WOZGw83DZt9Xq50RqLhEol9ODmDIwpIHC84oupRHCWgG7Mir7Oujg7vLiLxcwUsOI/s320/IMG-20230601-WA0016.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Found one!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>The clue for the dollar pictured was "Ephesians 5:22", and I found it in the Bible on the coffee table. My favorite clue was "John 4:5-30". When I looked it up, and discovered those verses are the story of Jesus and the woman at the well, I knew immediately where to look! There was a picture on the wall of Jesus with the woman at the well, and sure enough -- a dollar bill was tucked under the frame. Such a fun little game!</div></div><div><br /></div><div>Neither of us were really ready to leave for home, but we both were so grateful for the time away. So many, many memories from twenty-two years of living together! One of my very favorite things about our marriage is the way Chris has always made time for the two of us a priority. There's nobody I'd rather spend time with!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ehuWcYC4pke598IYXQpWDuV4rjcnSgQhakYC-zY8DgwxZKBh_Kryw1NrQZbBFa2AIozs4Y-j7_F0HcdQZ3amIulSXYF9DiVSbEShqTMq_7Jo8XsA8BfCGSN7mRs6YLFGMSBpQgojp95i_EtEKrw0rcCxKyS_Z2fg4bNK0tMkD242Bo6LYOZ36zh1/s2592/20230602_103854.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="1944" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5ehuWcYC4pke598IYXQpWDuV4rjcnSgQhakYC-zY8DgwxZKBh_Kryw1NrQZbBFa2AIozs4Y-j7_F0HcdQZ3amIulSXYF9DiVSbEShqTMq_7Jo8XsA8BfCGSN7mRs6YLFGMSBpQgojp95i_EtEKrw0rcCxKyS_Z2fg4bNK0tMkD242Bo6LYOZ36zh1/s320/20230602_103854.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>I'm glad I don't know what the next twenty some years will look like. Right now, I am just cherishing today. </div>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-18147986803390853952023-05-16T07:52:00.003-11:002023-05-16T07:52:26.909-11:00One Year Later<p> Exactly one year ago today, I published a graduation blog post titled "<a href="https://bethany-aboutmyfathersbusiness.blogspot.com/2022/05/class-of-2022.html?m=1">Class of 2022</a>". A lot can happen in one year....</p><p>This past weekend, Chris and I traveled to Boston for another graduation -- same child, different experience. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFE3TusJ1t6nwhsIZAuFx2-EQniYzALr4eZDSFkDPwNNC0j2Uk-DjOuJTfEphZ6ZiPV0xG4wStNLamuFT9piVElJYE1p_kHj_PNOr0pyJZdW6PWlqaxVJ50_r3dESQVzAzc2BHz2OaufcVJ0ijpEXISi1nzh0UHYM6FC86ZRmRlvgCZqzkmL8HKbk/s1599/IMG-20230513-WA0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1599" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFE3TusJ1t6nwhsIZAuFx2-EQniYzALr4eZDSFkDPwNNC0j2Uk-DjOuJTfEphZ6ZiPV0xG4wStNLamuFT9piVElJYE1p_kHj_PNOr0pyJZdW6PWlqaxVJ50_r3dESQVzAzc2BHz2OaufcVJ0ijpEXISi1nzh0UHYM6FC86ZRmRlvgCZqzkmL8HKbk/s320/IMG-20230513-WA0004.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Jasmine spent the past nine months studying at Sattler College and completed their One Year Certificate in Biblical Studies. It was so good to be there and see the places and meet the people that have impacted her life so deeply. It was a short trip - driving there Friday and returning Sunday - but very much worth it. <div><br /></div><div>I didn't take many pictures, I was too busy taking in the sights and trying to match up faces with all the names I've heard so many times. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vvxAxPrzibvMskyp1XPSMNvlOKi7mPHQELSqI0SF4EpG7h6yp4K36YnZHcjgV75E222ZXf9FkpLw4y7C-k9tEOIGHDyHkikA4EubMT_irrzOmn7YlP5kLgnDFfjIrFkTzMSnis2yaoCkuqtVLlmdr0K0UV-zcpN3V6BjRMVITA8xK7RkNPxFGGL6/s2048/IMG-20230513-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6vvxAxPrzibvMskyp1XPSMNvlOKi7mPHQELSqI0SF4EpG7h6yp4K36YnZHcjgV75E222ZXf9FkpLw4y7C-k9tEOIGHDyHkikA4EubMT_irrzOmn7YlP5kLgnDFfjIrFkTzMSnis2yaoCkuqtVLlmdr0K0UV-zcpN3V6BjRMVITA8xK7RkNPxFGGL6/s320/IMG-20230513-WA0001.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Just gazing at the graduation venue and listening to the beautiful organ music was an experience in itself! A favorite memory was having a long time blog reader spot me and introduce herself -- so special!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvNq0q3npgoMfDJ5fGUl64qGfq4TfpQNhj_9BYa6zgAktUVm_po5jsSd_Eb-q_CV1TPtiK4a1GzjVlEdnm2h0NEMtWzCCS104bDYh669VHB7WFbeVdzWFHeD-r6ecGtCShcpMj0tkzXKE7mBuZAy8z-9VTAt2LxSnMBxho50WQwur1lH_rsC6j2eQ/s4160/20230513_155152.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuvNq0q3npgoMfDJ5fGUl64qGfq4TfpQNhj_9BYa6zgAktUVm_po5jsSd_Eb-q_CV1TPtiK4a1GzjVlEdnm2h0NEMtWzCCS104bDYh669VHB7WFbeVdzWFHeD-r6ecGtCShcpMj0tkzXKE7mBuZAy8z-9VTAt2LxSnMBxho50WQwur1lH_rsC6j2eQ/s320/20230513_155152.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Pictures and celebration on the Boston Common</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBIOnre2dMbdDJcfLdMWBwDrMnOnO20IkKqe--N9TGqfvgwey-rOOO-J_xfHFyJiDa3quehN9oH8eIQMuw5ZkPBffHTu2kBRxYTeNpX-k44qvrfAdljcQuD2wzLLxE6gEqpNHIdP64zktwna5G2Ptg6Asn_Iao-VSrqMApP63OG1QIy6PSs6-nong9/s720/DSC_7030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="583" data-original-width="720" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBIOnre2dMbdDJcfLdMWBwDrMnOnO20IkKqe--N9TGqfvgwey-rOOO-J_xfHFyJiDa3quehN9oH8eIQMuw5ZkPBffHTu2kBRxYTeNpX-k44qvrfAdljcQuD2wzLLxE6gEqpNHIdP64zktwna5G2Ptg6Asn_Iao-VSrqMApP63OG1QIy6PSs6-nong9/s320/DSC_7030.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Chris and I, with Jasmine and Uriah</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfGbVdxUJVc8TcFKQEuPHn6fS5G_r1aUClVzrqqM5lAffKQDHoZ2Ru_m8DkPm4D2yGmeDZ6QwQvUNbbrH53qGbI2IdBd13xkN_xMiuk5WLHMpKI-ZkhnjZDPxQrLQaekt9w5wPG40J00cJbGFBygdYp4WnFZKJXoKI4Dmd4-QWcfvkHmJxZTagXOD/s4160/20230513_165331.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfGbVdxUJVc8TcFKQEuPHn6fS5G_r1aUClVzrqqM5lAffKQDHoZ2Ru_m8DkPm4D2yGmeDZ6QwQvUNbbrH53qGbI2IdBd13xkN_xMiuk5WLHMpKI-ZkhnjZDPxQrLQaekt9w5wPG40J00cJbGFBygdYp4WnFZKJXoKI4Dmd4-QWcfvkHmJxZTagXOD/s320/20230513_165331.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A view from Sattler's windows</div><div><br /></div>Saturday afternoon we got a good taste of Boston life -- lots of walking! Sandals weren't the best choice of footwear, but it could have been worse. We got to walk Jasmine's daily path from college to dorms and a common path from dorms to train station. <br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Rf1Lu_w34jWcO7hl8fiQhkmnFqr0z-Q4stuci86Ahgka8rAvEaLt8RXn1JN6IMPCrq1dSiaxMSmElD_-dDLbATJmy4TZt77pXQDJdDE6VNKGTUzNFlTZ0h_i-PIL-_tmilc4nY1UsSlnqmbMvLK0RQM0-w5ex03E1ONI5TUuayxCN8QGM8HWR5bT/s4160/20230513_173923.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Rf1Lu_w34jWcO7hl8fiQhkmnFqr0z-Q4stuci86Ahgka8rAvEaLt8RXn1JN6IMPCrq1dSiaxMSmElD_-dDLbATJmy4TZt77pXQDJdDE6VNKGTUzNFlTZ0h_i-PIL-_tmilc4nY1UsSlnqmbMvLK0RQM0-w5ex03E1ONI5TUuayxCN8QGM8HWR5bT/s320/20230513_173923.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Sah-UTZ-A5cR6C8H7RFVKMagUJbbwvkN3X1_cGadLMb-dIl-qiKZlLxaxPiyK_RyzNbZ7vv8hj-UPyyaiEO5A6Xl3xSK2QaDyLEydsp6NGaAwp49YIeQGsT78Si4LhpPsU-ckg7oksLPwv79kj8b5Qkn6QnOcEFk3699LTxsHdd-7St8hnrhvsMD/s4160/20230513_194210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Sah-UTZ-A5cR6C8H7RFVKMagUJbbwvkN3X1_cGadLMb-dIl-qiKZlLxaxPiyK_RyzNbZ7vv8hj-UPyyaiEO5A6Xl3xSK2QaDyLEydsp6NGaAwp49YIeQGsT78Si4LhpPsU-ckg7oksLPwv79kj8b5Qkn6QnOcEFk3699LTxsHdd-7St8hnrhvsMD/s320/20230513_194210.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>We got to experience riding the T, and having a conversation with a very chatty individual and observing many stripes of other people. <div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhluAUdrW2FxkyCL4WWto-8zC2SXnhYDErp_BIn9TN2HSFrvbQKQXWdvuAa0LGqxk8TDWU8erze__RPDWAU4-P9JEz9tPz_CioLN2LgBoFcjjMGlDvJdAaZPkmtujCg-_7m18oltCsiFwMiTt84XVxOYYvaADs-JSfWZXI3x3wEFqgzxG1yD0F-9wXG/s4160/20230513_221843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhluAUdrW2FxkyCL4WWto-8zC2SXnhYDErp_BIn9TN2HSFrvbQKQXWdvuAa0LGqxk8TDWU8erze__RPDWAU4-P9JEz9tPz_CioLN2LgBoFcjjMGlDvJdAaZPkmtujCg-_7m18oltCsiFwMiTt84XVxOYYvaADs-JSfWZXI3x3wEFqgzxG1yD0F-9wXG/s320/20230513_221843.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>But my most favorite thing of all was the chance to meet the beautiful people who have nurtured and fed and loved my daughter the past nine months. Just thinking about it now brings a lump to my throat. I'm so grateful for the ways God is able to do above and beyond what we ask or think!</div><div><br /></div><div>Not only has a lot happened in a year, I feel like I have grown and stretched and learned in many ways as a mother myself. Having children will do that to a person, no matter the stage of life! Here's to many more years of learning.....<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-15868854294795497172023-04-29T03:06:00.000-11:002023-04-29T03:06:09.132-11:00A Month of No Pictures<p>I didn't declare April a month of no pictures, but that seems to be what it was! I kinda feel like I blinked and the month disappeared, to be honest. I'm not even quite sure why? It wasn't that the month was so over the top busy, just a steady stream of days that rolled by and left me turning around, looking to see where the weeks went? </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-wXjam0JZecDY7zuFemKVy2xNR9M1yt7RNvq2MMWX2wk2KKmrk60CKcZfT_9P-u7u-H4nPe3KAvc6FFpsm3FUudYZIEEWZfbgyLAAheIeMlk-BtXSaPcIh3qjFqtq6rU_S5G_S2A5NaQYRkiuWrljNgDxfDO1w1h8-G_pOHmYSkbBzA0d-oQU8z_/s4160/20230403_132244.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv-wXjam0JZecDY7zuFemKVy2xNR9M1yt7RNvq2MMWX2wk2KKmrk60CKcZfT_9P-u7u-H4nPe3KAvc6FFpsm3FUudYZIEEWZfbgyLAAheIeMlk-BtXSaPcIh3qjFqtq6rU_S5G_S2A5NaQYRkiuWrljNgDxfDO1w1h8-G_pOHmYSkbBzA0d-oQU8z_/s320/20230403_132244.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>The blooming of my Forsythia came and went...<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_DHDhGDLmunUn-LJvHwW3GGPcRQLLEjm6R7__GC4PkxpKbab-8aSnDYHaqlZpn48AcWyLYLub9diJMtKkholR8htIMUgf_LeqsoelxLt_V8cbHUf9VbASNvlbWy7Abv1mne0GCmmdHpugwJkX_ogyYtQXT1cGiZ3-2RNq9rWSswjh-0gR6lnhFYDE/s3840/IMG-20230407-WA0018.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3840" data-original-width="2160" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_DHDhGDLmunUn-LJvHwW3GGPcRQLLEjm6R7__GC4PkxpKbab-8aSnDYHaqlZpn48AcWyLYLub9diJMtKkholR8htIMUgf_LeqsoelxLt_V8cbHUf9VbASNvlbWy7Abv1mne0GCmmdHpugwJkX_ogyYtQXT1cGiZ3-2RNq9rWSswjh-0gR6lnhFYDE/s320/IMG-20230407-WA0018.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>The birthday of my ten year old came and went...</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqTmzDAUnNtiMH19HjXHNp2_61schrFI5-3Frj-dsDsfSxJUSGzrGDs5uvY-Txo5pCO6MgbMjlSL-m6CuUAyOLpU2epAqu0kmfXxO9kfL4uWCyoiyBQp1TzycafNgJr7z9o6WZ_mCGmghpzrDLs7YwspX4U9yplH7FYQqiG2naOQF5iXqdVhi74CW/s2592/20230420_163408.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="1944" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzqTmzDAUnNtiMH19HjXHNp2_61schrFI5-3Frj-dsDsfSxJUSGzrGDs5uvY-Txo5pCO6MgbMjlSL-m6CuUAyOLpU2epAqu0kmfXxO9kfL4uWCyoiyBQp1TzycafNgJr7z9o6WZ_mCGmghpzrDLs7YwspX4U9yplH7FYQqiG2naOQF5iXqdVhi74CW/s320/20230420_163408.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>The first bike trail ride of the season came and went...</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Gp6eupCfGWyqK6ZVSS1KCjve9675hy-yax4Fxr47RloBqRl_fnsoIEedo1OcjZVmGTp7dRTgD0q9H8hcBaT5cFXlIqw-WN_u4A4VommHrh9l-ibJhz7saHqrvyjJu9MDCgDpeFw8hN2JT6g5EWU6l2XZG3x0Vy0W0hVU0XeoT7IREKic0lLU62Z5/s960/FB_IMG_1682775088040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Gp6eupCfGWyqK6ZVSS1KCjve9675hy-yax4Fxr47RloBqRl_fnsoIEedo1OcjZVmGTp7dRTgD0q9H8hcBaT5cFXlIqw-WN_u4A4VommHrh9l-ibJhz7saHqrvyjJu9MDCgDpeFw8hN2JT6g5EWU6l2XZG3x0Vy0W0hVU0XeoT7IREKic0lLU62Z5/s320/FB_IMG_1682775088040.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>My middle child's trip to DC with her high-school classmates came and went...</p><p>I told you I would share the books I read in March. Here they are, plus one that I read in April --</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwiUr93exkdboV7BAJkMm_05nsfPimmQAlQGTD1SkL9slPyG5OMoF9PNAp9yjUyvyqwnaZpCgSjwUDxz9oK8mMHUD_mnp30aKyENkjUr4trvgutWWqxyf0lASbFqeRb-kX98WNKCdth1ua-J6y2XQIibAVQAw7zkWXNlrpxhl72BVSku-mqbbvXP6Q/s2880/20230429_093938.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwiUr93exkdboV7BAJkMm_05nsfPimmQAlQGTD1SkL9slPyG5OMoF9PNAp9yjUyvyqwnaZpCgSjwUDxz9oK8mMHUD_mnp30aKyENkjUr4trvgutWWqxyf0lASbFqeRb-kX98WNKCdth1ua-J6y2XQIibAVQAw7zkWXNlrpxhl72BVSku-mqbbvXP6Q/s320/20230429_093938.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>The only one I will comment on is the one I am sure the most people have questions about: Spare. It was really good; much better than I expected it to be, honestly. I'm still not a huge fan of Harry and Megan, but he came across more fair and kind than I thought he might (if a bit delusional in places).</p><p>I need to run along and study for my lady's Sunday school class tomorrow. What new thoughts would you have about the story of Jesus walking on the water? It's one of those stories we've heard so many times that it kind of loses its intrigue. </p><p>Happy End-Of-April to you! If May is bringing you a landslide of end of school activities like it is me, I wish you grace and joy as the days flash by and summer commences. </p></div>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-13132186581890696792023-03-31T06:36:00.004-11:002023-03-31T06:36:36.320-11:00A Month of Pictures: 31<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2YHMl3TdLE7OFcDrk2xqTvAiztFvwMm-6MCRSleD2O9nAhUM-ac4kB0cwSXuQ1Q3hMrjyolY1cxMfDRHirarm-HBL_LGImhDe2ZJhKUWEgIMZmzEpg0bezC89gkob48C0VpkJc-RraC029hiVRccHNc7zZ7QCw49lNW-YARWUuQmpjjvtNWG7vzR/s4096/20230331_131234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2YHMl3TdLE7OFcDrk2xqTvAiztFvwMm-6MCRSleD2O9nAhUM-ac4kB0cwSXuQ1Q3hMrjyolY1cxMfDRHirarm-HBL_LGImhDe2ZJhKUWEgIMZmzEpg0bezC89gkob48C0VpkJc-RraC029hiVRccHNc7zZ7QCw49lNW-YARWUuQmpjjvtNWG7vzR/s320/20230331_131234.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Today has been a cozy, rainy day at home. I feel like I've spent a lot of this week running here and there, so today was especially nice. I've just puttered around - straightening up the house, washing up a pile of dishes, folding accumulated clean laundry and feeding endless dirty clothing through the washer...</p><p>I thrive on slow days and menial rhythms but I can also quickly feel like my life lacks purpose and meaning. I'm constantly walking a fine line between looking for motivation and purpose, and needing calm and quiet. </p><p>Today is the last day of my month of pictures! It's been a fun little exercise for me; hopefully you've enjoyed it as well. Someone suggested that next I should post a recipe a day for a month - somehow I don't think that would go very well! Pretty sure I would run out of recipes long before the month was up. </p><p>I did read some books in March, maybe I'll share those another day. </p><p>Cheers to April and budding trees and all things spring!</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-74290826614702998732023-03-30T02:25:00.000-11:002023-03-30T02:25:10.626-11:00A Month of Pictures: 30<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zCTFUID3_mdu9RW2fmPDTWXFMMeXetUu8Ok6_pESSSMbcouSae0pd9RmLCh5Yk_vntKGiP3w9-uyLKl30aXjBE5ALi_AGYYBt8SIX6QsH2GVx6oDziBYaNa4vbN8HY84-8Fy2zpz36pGCbPFZGemQG4SinHRXlRG080qPmDE3MB7Z0JYpfUWeiGK/s2880/20230330_084410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_zCTFUID3_mdu9RW2fmPDTWXFMMeXetUu8Ok6_pESSSMbcouSae0pd9RmLCh5Yk_vntKGiP3w9-uyLKl30aXjBE5ALi_AGYYBt8SIX6QsH2GVx6oDziBYaNa4vbN8HY84-8Fy2zpz36pGCbPFZGemQG4SinHRXlRG080qPmDE3MB7Z0JYpfUWeiGK/s320/20230330_084410.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">School Dress Up Day</div><p></p><p>With the school teacher as The Honorable Judge Eicher, the 8th grader as Mary Poppins, the 4th grader as Sheriff Charles Eicher, and the birthday girl as St Lucia. </p><p>(And The Mom, as Chief Seamstress, Shopper, Stresser, Brainstormer, etc and so forth...)</p><p>We had a lot of fun, until The Over Investor (aka The Mom) was tired and grouchy and over it, as one is. But we sent them off to school this morning, and everyone was happy! </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-82684059499440358412023-03-29T11:28:00.000-11:002023-03-29T11:28:01.945-11:00A Month of Pictures: 29<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPnX0sDObVVCZROqvJ3YhqKfVGA8GI0PxXHqaYaw1gDgL55bFO2nkO7zXcYJGlCUZLnmIEYRm9E-FJDpb05FDxgg4AwncJntiBgHFhcT-DLw4UAK0kuP3AiOskaWaeb8FwYiOLOfQ2YWBZS1jaGx4G4FdEg5njEHwz9ee_ZMlg-f8m9FOHVWbMd3hh/s4160/20230329_182302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPnX0sDObVVCZROqvJ3YhqKfVGA8GI0PxXHqaYaw1gDgL55bFO2nkO7zXcYJGlCUZLnmIEYRm9E-FJDpb05FDxgg4AwncJntiBgHFhcT-DLw4UAK0kuP3AiOskaWaeb8FwYiOLOfQ2YWBZS1jaGx4G4FdEg5njEHwz9ee_ZMlg-f8m9FOHVWbMd3hh/s320/20230329_182302.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>I feel like my brain and my house all look about like this picture.... stacks of things everywhere. </p><p>So, I sat down to post my picture, and then I'm taking a deep breath and tackling the stacks. </p><p>Sorry you don't get an 'after' picture. </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-86775058510405055812023-03-28T13:37:00.000-11:002023-03-28T13:37:28.006-11:00A Month of Pictures: 28<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVKt2pE2IYwqGFdqcLpBiKMxMX7EModdVTZjt3ADexawJtY1nF1vqKEtJPm7o2XebGQfQUJzhpVqdmFe2Uz76pZ-MWBsmUosUpqXOCTJCzpL5D7enGilL2b51pb3Mx9AH8cEN6WmHOk3gE8THjQRmwS8mm5pJY7YXRetWV6VPTENFWZ0t5z0FWol3g/s4096/20230328_121245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVKt2pE2IYwqGFdqcLpBiKMxMX7EModdVTZjt3ADexawJtY1nF1vqKEtJPm7o2XebGQfQUJzhpVqdmFe2Uz76pZ-MWBsmUosUpqXOCTJCzpL5D7enGilL2b51pb3Mx9AH8cEN6WmHOk3gE8THjQRmwS8mm5pJY7YXRetWV6VPTENFWZ0t5z0FWol3g/s320/20230328_121245.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />Every morning the cats patiently wait outside the window for Charles to wake up and come feed them. If he takes too long, they start scratching at the door. <p></p><p>This morning, I went down in the basement to get something, and saw them there, and decided that would make a great picture for the day! And then I promptly went on with my day and never remembered to post it. Now it is late, and my email subscriptions are set to go out at 7 pm, so those readers won't even get my 28th picture on the 28th but I'm a little too tired to care a whole lot. </p><p>The end. </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-67221714388423504102023-03-27T09:44:00.001-11:002023-03-27T09:44:25.766-11:00A Month of Pictures: 27<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgIegka6s5evWyhSbZbLwd3KNuEtTzK3EDo_VQjC8ymE58AYsC0jzPjdpETmMZHH9iYkmn0PXpqExG5sVYp-BOZ0aR7J6f1iPMmUFRaboihhik2GyMvEkfkQBDHyYQxB1aClNqab0-cbEhFyuPdWJqq3iDGeLfimVKBy43ybvKNpLYfHMAf67LYeyj/s2880/20230327_163231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2880" data-original-width="2880" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgIegka6s5evWyhSbZbLwd3KNuEtTzK3EDo_VQjC8ymE58AYsC0jzPjdpETmMZHH9iYkmn0PXpqExG5sVYp-BOZ0aR7J6f1iPMmUFRaboihhik2GyMvEkfkQBDHyYQxB1aClNqab0-cbEhFyuPdWJqq3iDGeLfimVKBy43ybvKNpLYfHMAf67LYeyj/s320/20230327_163231.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Every day, on my way to and from school, I pass this house. It reminds me of an old plantation house, with its tall, white pillars and shuttered windows. I wonder when it was built? I wonder who lived there? </p><p>Rumor has it that the owners live in the basement, and the upper floors are kept like a museum. </p><p>I wonder what stories the walls could tell, of bygone days and things long forgotten? </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-17400403283924540902023-03-26T11:18:00.001-11:002023-03-26T11:18:11.404-11:00A Month of Pictures: 26<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzK6xFrCjuSWb5_lByxOZ34IQCq2FURx2ppbX75FQt6ucYgeKlhCPuULt1FKduVDr26zvhgTzoZnn58DKQnCqyVd4Gt9ik5CW80K0Bj8uC4CYY8q8W8aMsn6bKaYx1q27GXYEQhteIgF1EtDTvRdhKDvBN7F6WEtk7q6TAJTden7ACHcHjVtuqF2ga/s4160/20230326_174722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzK6xFrCjuSWb5_lByxOZ34IQCq2FURx2ppbX75FQt6ucYgeKlhCPuULt1FKduVDr26zvhgTzoZnn58DKQnCqyVd4Gt9ik5CW80K0Bj8uC4CYY8q8W8aMsn6bKaYx1q27GXYEQhteIgF1EtDTvRdhKDvBN7F6WEtk7q6TAJTden7ACHcHjVtuqF2ga/s320/20230326_174722.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>The weather today was perfection but my soul felt a little cruddy. So I took a nice, solitary walk (which is a nice way of saying nobody else wanted to take a walk) and I drank in the fresh, spring air on my skin and the blue, blue of the sky overhead and the joyful, swelling chorus of spring peepers in my ears.... </p><p>I paused to look at the staring cows and a tiny new calf. I laughed at the yipping dog, who wanted to be sure I knew I was coming mighty close to trespassing on her territory. And I stopped to chat with the neighbor lady and her grandchildren, who drove up in their gator to assure me the dog wouldn't bite. </p><p>Lesson to myself: the out of doors are a powerful cure for soul cruddiness. </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-18872189261766932942023-03-25T13:35:00.003-11:002023-04-01T08:16:57.005-11:00A Month of Pictures: 25<p>Well, I didn't try to take a picture of the most prominent part of this day -- High Winds. Thankfully we haven't had any damages or power outages so far!</p><p>It was a very laid back Saturday at home. Late this afternoon I went with Chris to run some errands and we picked up some supper on the run. That's when I remembered I still needed a picture for this day.....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCzpzYu7fJZ1isiwouZSmiaeEG8Iq8tllVakGEtoDwi-Tb7vRGEFDnXx1Gy37VSE3O_ncmCsPysRc3fH3h-NZwUCdfNqltMYeiuXc13KvkRL1rUUQ_PnfrSYRTXc7B7CazNpeETR-P_D44OG-5vXojQOw3jaHfTuH83cS39wIpqFDcb6A0gBqxfCO/s4160/20230325_173911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCzpzYu7fJZ1isiwouZSmiaeEG8Iq8tllVakGEtoDwi-Tb7vRGEFDnXx1Gy37VSE3O_ncmCsPysRc3fH3h-NZwUCdfNqltMYeiuXc13KvkRL1rUUQ_PnfrSYRTXc7B7CazNpeETR-P_D44OG-5vXojQOw3jaHfTuH83cS39wIpqFDcb6A0gBqxfCO/s320/20230325_173911.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-11944999407443546952023-03-24T08:49:00.000-11:002023-03-24T08:49:22.258-11:00A Month of Pictures: 24<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5XNWB6RylCyVmLyPE8RiQ9rr0P3ZQkKe5bTsEndwvwC_O59v-03lAuwG4omykO1MOt32r7o2-umKUePaMu6Kk7PKImy_C6YgPMFPV4wyfYI7JzvoWPSejYCnTqhT_oyP_ZadAer0kkN5ie2rNdStHIK88wmS4rtOLEoCJtrJGDmQmTsY3pJUdPvwC/s4160/20230324_152852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5XNWB6RylCyVmLyPE8RiQ9rr0P3ZQkKe5bTsEndwvwC_O59v-03lAuwG4omykO1MOt32r7o2-umKUePaMu6Kk7PKImy_C6YgPMFPV4wyfYI7JzvoWPSejYCnTqhT_oyP_ZadAer0kkN5ie2rNdStHIK88wmS4rtOLEoCJtrJGDmQmTsY3pJUdPvwC/s320/20230324_152852.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />My route to school gets interesting when we get lots of rain! Fortunately, there are quite a number of different ways to get from here to there, as long as you give yourself time and adjust accordingly. <p></p><p>There's a chance of more rain tonight. I'm quite happy that it's the weekend and I can stay right here in my dry house!</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-75637192927906713782023-03-23T09:09:00.001-11:002023-03-23T09:09:48.039-11:00A Month of Pictures: 23<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKB_rdmSctmckmiF4kG018K4m0zRHRESjPJffctLrDYtNmDAABd5ZXTIeyS1nApeR2AFEtQB4Z5ovh4cXAXsOyV9wNOkcmYTu8GGcy24To5XF46fCJow80IKehaQiNG4GS9iHZy3mdPmIohNphpJPL0i9mocuah393PpV0-jrYCLZHkRqD7wVAlTk/s4160/20230323_145607.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNKB_rdmSctmckmiF4kG018K4m0zRHRESjPJffctLrDYtNmDAABd5ZXTIeyS1nApeR2AFEtQB4Z5ovh4cXAXsOyV9wNOkcmYTu8GGcy24To5XF46fCJow80IKehaQiNG4GS9iHZy3mdPmIohNphpJPL0i9mocuah393PpV0-jrYCLZHkRqD7wVAlTk/s320/20230323_145607.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Five afternoons a week, you'll find me sitting here in my van. On either side of me, there will be a long line of other vehicles; their occupants also expectantly waiting. We might smile at each other or wave or roll down our windows and chat a bit. </p><p>Then the white door will open, and children of all shapes and sizes and moods will come tumbling down the steps. Some will be hippety hopping their way, and others will be dragging along; their arms loaded down with books and bags and abandoned coats. They will all sort themselves out into the long line of vehicles, and in no time at all, the parking spaces will be empty and the area deserted. </p><p>Another day of school completed!</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-63300651978915968782023-03-22T06:46:00.000-11:002023-03-22T06:46:06.112-11:00A Month of Pictures: 22<p> Just a little something yummy for you to try...</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5XIFw_pNiQwQlyOCcM1fwZ6TFBDlO4ageXVnQi4-jrq3eqqIlQhmbM-6MJMDuczzpjDFRknwZkJ8kJDdup41HZJlxtlUUbfeLRBA7tBbmO985oRyk2U3KSO9tB0uInXezqa5EOp1i-ESqDOMb7JxEknFNouuvudGbA0ltoszLChZjzEp5QvyDY6Y/s4160/20230322_134348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5XIFw_pNiQwQlyOCcM1fwZ6TFBDlO4ageXVnQi4-jrq3eqqIlQhmbM-6MJMDuczzpjDFRknwZkJ8kJDdup41HZJlxtlUUbfeLRBA7tBbmO985oRyk2U3KSO9tB0uInXezqa5EOp1i-ESqDOMb7JxEknFNouuvudGbA0ltoszLChZjzEp5QvyDY6Y/s320/20230322_134348.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p><b>Cinnamon Twists</b></p><p>1 T active dry yeast</p><p>3/4 C warm water (divided)</p><p>4 to 4 1/2 C flour</p><p>1/4 C sugar</p><p>1 1/2 tsp salt</p><p>1/2 C warm milk</p><p>1/4 C butter (softened)</p><p>1 egg</p><p>In a large bowl, dissolve yeast in 1/4 cup warm water. Add 2 cups flour, sugar, salt, milk, butter, egg, and remaining water. Beat on medium speed for 2 minutes. Stir in enough remaining flour to form a soft dough. Turn onto a lightly floured surface and knead about 6 to 8 minutes. Place in a greased bowl, turning once to grease top. Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour. </p><p><b>Filling: </b></p><p>1/4 C butter (melted)</p><p>1/2 C brown sugar</p><p>4 tsp cinnamon</p><p>Roll dough into a 16x12" rectangle. Brush with butter. Combine brown sugar and cinnamon, sprinkle over butter. Cut rectangle lengthwise into 3 16x4" strips. Cut each a strip into 16 4x1" pieces. Twist and place on greased baking sheet. Cover and let rise until doubled in bulk, about 30 minutes. Bake at 350Β° for 12-15 minutes. Mix 1 cup powdered sugar with enough milk to make a thin icing. Brush on twists while still warm. Yield: 4 dozen. </p><p>Enjoy! </p><p><br /></p><p>*These freeze well.... if you can get them into the freezer before they're all eaten.....</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-66655337926123934022023-03-21T07:40:00.000-11:002023-03-21T07:40:39.207-11:00A Month of Pictures: 21<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3DporJzoZKl6dZRUhmQ_JEpHQuvQ_7BF9MbHypazKkGSuN1Q_acpyfHrty7G5iTBJeX9Ss91Lyzg_y5UIptqdur3b20Wi6dYyuBJ2QY-c09dml7K7kTbH0i7tKAo9EfU2f5KQy-9IWZXVnbsPIADi_busv8FUYQq5i9S5iz3pyEsUbJXd8LDSgU_/s3674/20230321_121348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3674" data-original-width="2195" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3DporJzoZKl6dZRUhmQ_JEpHQuvQ_7BF9MbHypazKkGSuN1Q_acpyfHrty7G5iTBJeX9Ss91Lyzg_y5UIptqdur3b20Wi6dYyuBJ2QY-c09dml7K7kTbH0i7tKAo9EfU2f5KQy-9IWZXVnbsPIADi_busv8FUYQq5i9S5iz3pyEsUbJXd8LDSgU_/s320/20230321_121348.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-family: Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif; max-height: 999999px;"><div class="kVF6d" style="display: table; max-height: 999999px; word-break: break-word;"><div style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; max-height: 999999px;"><div class="c8d6zd REww7c" style="color: #202124; font-family: "Google Sans", Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 24px; line-height: 32px; margin-top: -6px; max-height: 999999px;"><span data-dobid="hdw" style="max-height: 999999px;">meΒ·niΒ·al</span></div></div><div class="qexShd" style="max-height: 999999px;"><span class="LTKOO" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; max-height: 999999px;">/<span style="max-height: 999999px;">ΛmΔnΔΙl</span>/</span></div><div aria-hidden="true" class="K6GhFd" data-is-bilingual="false" jsaction="BtuVOb:V46pce" jscontroller="jhGntf" style="max-height: 0px; opacity: 0; pointer-events: none; transition: max-height 0.3s ease 0s, opacity 0.3s ease 0s; visibility: hidden;"><div class="b8aKlc" style="max-height: 999999px; padding: 8px 0px 6px;"><a href="https://www.google.com/search?client=ms-android-americamovil-us-revc&sxsrf=AJOqlzXr4e-yRLEL0G6jpvtDHRiZI6X61g:1679416628052&q=how+to+pronounce+menial&stick=H4sIAAAAAAAAAOMIfcRowS3w8sc9YSn9SWtOXmPU5OINKMrPK81LzkwsyczPExLiYglJLcoV4pLi4GLLTc3LTMyxYlFiSs3jWcQqnpFfrlCSr1AA1JEP1JKqAFEAAD0oXq1XAAAA&pron_lang=en&pron_country=us&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwi7va28uu39AhURM1kFHbv-CGAQ3eEDegQIDBAK" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.1); color: #1558d6; max-height: 999999px; outline: 0px; text-decoration-line: none;" tabindex="-1"><div class="S5TwIf" style="border-radius: 6px; box-shadow: rgb(218, 220, 224) 0px 0px 0px 1px inset; display: inline-block; max-height: 999999px; overflow: hidden; padding-right: 12px; vertical-align: top;"><g-img class="FamOtd" style="display: inline-block; max-height: 999999px; vertical-align: middle;"><img alt="" class="YQ4gaf zr758c wA1Bge" data-atf="0" data-frt="0" height="32" id="dimg_1" src="data:image/svg+xml;base64,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" style="border: 0px; display: block; max-height: 999999px; position: relative;" width="32" /></g-img><span class="fe69if" style="margin-left: 10px; max-height: 999999px; vertical-align: middle;"></span></div></a></div></div></div></div><div class="ABgcGb vmod" jsname="p0q1Sd" style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-family: Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif; margin-left: -16px; margin-right: -16px; max-height: 999999px;"></div><div class="vmod" style="background-color: white; color: #4d5156; font-family: Roboto, "Helvetica Neue", Arial, sans-serif; max-height: 999999px;"><div class="vmod" data-topic="" jsname="r5Nvmf" style="max-height: 999999px;"><div style="max-height: 999999px;"><div class="lW8rQd" style="align-items: center; display: flex; max-height: 999999px;"><div style="max-height: 999999px;"><div class="YrbPuc vdBwhd pgRvse" style="color: #70757a; font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; max-height: 999999px; min-height: 20px; padding-top: 4px;"><i style="max-height: 999999px;">adjective</i></div></div></div><ol class="eQJLDd" style="display: flex; flex-direction: column; margin: 0px; max-height: 999999px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 20px;"><li jsname="gskXhf" style="list-style: none; margin: 0px; max-height: 999999px; padding: 0px;"><div class="vmod" style="max-height: 999999px;"><div class="thODed" style="max-height: 999999px; padding-top: 8px;"><div class="LTKOO sY7ric" data-topic="" jsname="cJAsRb" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 20px; max-height: 999999px;"><div style="margin-left: 20px; max-height: 999999px;"><div class="LTKOO sY7ric" style="line-height: 20px; max-height: 999999px;"><div style="max-height: 999999px;"><div data-dobid="dfn" style="display: inline; max-height: 999999px;">(of work) not requiring much skill and lacking prestige.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></li></ol></div></div></div><p>My day was full menial things.... laundry, cleaning the fridge, washing up dirty dishes, scrubbing the sink, sweeping the floor, folding the laundry, cooking, driving to and from school.... Some days buckling down and doing all the menial things makes you feel alive and content and happy. </p><p>After all, it's the menial things that build up together to make the noble ones. </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-17249980079733418192023-03-20T15:13:00.002-11:002023-03-20T15:13:47.854-11:00A Month of Pictures: 20<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7q-gelwa3ly6CHGY4SlZfhYSHt1A197_sLRhOpsNBBsEQ7zXdnsLfkdvPpYsoriS813vKagHvCuei2SPuEVPaTebR8Yc0GNBhwMwVVYjrsacc8q0lG9FD-c_Q3zqTDc8LcN5x6_a8Mw9JKXR5ihHVTc4SjjNGElnGlmhT2HahSt7xNpBxsrvLR0Ic/s4082/20230320_204348.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4082" data-original-width="2439" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7q-gelwa3ly6CHGY4SlZfhYSHt1A197_sLRhOpsNBBsEQ7zXdnsLfkdvPpYsoriS813vKagHvCuei2SPuEVPaTebR8Yc0GNBhwMwVVYjrsacc8q0lG9FD-c_Q3zqTDc8LcN5x6_a8Mw9JKXR5ihHVTc4SjjNGElnGlmhT2HahSt7xNpBxsrvLR0Ic/s320/20230320_204348.jpg" width="191" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Note to self: Bulletin boards always, always, always take longer than you think they will. </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-35797882471258674692023-03-19T08:38:00.003-11:002023-03-19T08:38:55.697-11:00A Month of Pictures: 19<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZK0SWxvVGPv4WKSWC6yRkXGQhE3z0Z1-ADiQRuaNoOFghBYuU4h61RD0VIdTBEVdTai1t684-xDWFsJ17-2p8ZQa8ckM2tMAn88PtpwCzNi5Mo8tawU36Srmi70uKcm4v99NEPaDYlPDomILhqIubCuhUwJGYUfMJEnKxSgQPduQ5pe95RSZEAWp0/s4160/20230319_081905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZK0SWxvVGPv4WKSWC6yRkXGQhE3z0Z1-ADiQRuaNoOFghBYuU4h61RD0VIdTBEVdTai1t684-xDWFsJ17-2p8ZQa8ckM2tMAn88PtpwCzNi5Mo8tawU36Srmi70uKcm4v99NEPaDYlPDomILhqIubCuhUwJGYUfMJEnKxSgQPduQ5pe95RSZEAWp0/s320/20230319_081905.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sunday morning tradition. </div><br />I shared the recipe for "sugary biscuits" (as my children call them) <a href="https://bethany-aboutmyfathersbusiness.blogspot.com/2015/08/sugary-biscuits.html?m=1">in this post</a>. It almost isn't a proper Sunday morning without them! Unless, of course, there are cinnamon rolls...<p></p><p>That isn't quite true, but I do probably make them more Sunday mornings then I don't. It's a simple tradition I don't mind keeping. </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-835296864045700062023-03-18T09:12:00.001-11:002023-03-18T09:12:43.568-11:00A Month of Pictures: 18<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgp-nnlCkRAsYr6cETpXkiglswSUuZG8wpDxihKSkNOGj6_cTdd_HQMqq8hDaqnZg5_dnfwldXvPaHf_WnLezu13zB-QrbYku0bILDPmlYW7kzR-3TQdR10hvzDjvRy5wGhmfT8Pg1hXDklYkv5efIxIbldExXI0uFNH8FOrDzTnS2jhhQc-y4v1D1/s4160/20230318_152549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgp-nnlCkRAsYr6cETpXkiglswSUuZG8wpDxihKSkNOGj6_cTdd_HQMqq8hDaqnZg5_dnfwldXvPaHf_WnLezu13zB-QrbYku0bILDPmlYW7kzR-3TQdR10hvzDjvRy5wGhmfT8Pg1hXDklYkv5efIxIbldExXI0uFNH8FOrDzTnS2jhhQc-y4v1D1/s320/20230318_152549.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>As a child, Saturdays were always house cleaning days. I remember writing out all the jobs on slips of paper and taking turns with my sisters, picking our list for the day. Sometimes we split up the jobs by rooms (do everything in that room), sometimes by categories (all the sweeping/all the dusting). You always hoped to not end up with the bathroom. That was the only time having one bathroom for a family of eight was a plus!</p><p>I started my oldest children out with the same routine -- choosing jobs, cleaning on Saturday -- but any more, we kind of go with whatever works best. Ever since we moved into this house, the children have taken care of cleaning the basement and I take care of the upstairs. They still generally do their part on Saturdays, and I generally do mine during the week. </p><p>All that to say, today I cleaned. And it made me think of Saturday cleaning and choosing slips of paper with jobs. </p><p>When do you do your cleaning?</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-43841423986398863302023-03-17T11:12:00.001-11:002023-03-17T11:12:26.566-11:00A Month of Pictures: 17<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ENWhUgkHFBf8K02_wxoTA6ODk8L5wPLaVuqVFk35dwWDJTIYRZlExHjw6zwPjXvYZjPpdLOYcelAS6WBHAcno5NqBRRCtCcPXghHJKHe57T3Y7kiz6KK-Mbx0PUeAHIhVnCPivLaeJ5t42NJQfG8uL-M0BI7HVXJAZrFXlrZPaUWecyHMVTTs-Af/s4160/20230317_180657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ENWhUgkHFBf8K02_wxoTA6ODk8L5wPLaVuqVFk35dwWDJTIYRZlExHjw6zwPjXvYZjPpdLOYcelAS6WBHAcno5NqBRRCtCcPXghHJKHe57T3Y7kiz6KK-Mbx0PUeAHIhVnCPivLaeJ5t42NJQfG8uL-M0BI7HVXJAZrFXlrZPaUWecyHMVTTs-Af/s320/20230317_180657.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Rainy day + Recovering mom = Comfort food</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-48248831287269735122023-03-16T10:41:00.002-11:002023-03-16T10:46:23.391-11:00A Month of Pictures: 16<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcIUtd1HCDP-_Z8i_6r-VPoh3OdEjxTq4F6pGWbAOy2gbIJx0u8_Sf85zLih9mIxRNm9KiVYXj8mTW7iXe6V61u-hlDUa9JWhWl9VUePsCJ62DFm_Ve5ADWJycqGhrQ-REERwbqsL9hDhGoi3IS-Rg5ShdrVXjSj5Ire9h0MIkG4DXiXvs6FH31IFe/s2592/20230316_121855.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2592" data-original-width="1944" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcIUtd1HCDP-_Z8i_6r-VPoh3OdEjxTq4F6pGWbAOy2gbIJx0u8_Sf85zLih9mIxRNm9KiVYXj8mTW7iXe6V61u-hlDUa9JWhWl9VUePsCJ62DFm_Ve5ADWJycqGhrQ-REERwbqsL9hDhGoi3IS-Rg5ShdrVXjSj5Ire9h0MIkG4DXiXvs6FH31IFe/s320/20230316_121855.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Spent most of my day holding down the couch and checking out the back sides of my eyelids. The bucket on the floor kept me company. I was determined we would not become well acquainted, but alas. Against my iron will, and intense loathing of the bucket's job, I succumbed. </p><p>There is a fierce stomach bug going around, but I'm not sure how I managed to pick it up before anyone else in my family? I suspect Bethany, in the school library, with many students....</p><p>As Pollyanna would say, "Oh, but I'm so Glad I got it first -- now my turn will be over!"</p><p>Back to the underside of those eyelids..........</p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-76930322581804584522023-03-15T10:09:00.004-11:002023-03-15T10:09:53.779-11:00A Month of Pictures: 15<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrIV1RuJ6ERRy0ST95607y6rJ7PX76BSp5Jy5bNVvFlqjLxog93AKG7waEe9U3J1oMbEIbmJfjoxuvm_reKnYm9dbVwWCSkkrYQ2Khc49xaVedLW8UcEConNR8Nja-7fjQwJxpf_jkBt8eynOTQ24yccKX76BIZ1hybNHLVY532GEPncimxFTlyMBh/s4096/20230315_170501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4096" data-original-width="3072" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrIV1RuJ6ERRy0ST95607y6rJ7PX76BSp5Jy5bNVvFlqjLxog93AKG7waEe9U3J1oMbEIbmJfjoxuvm_reKnYm9dbVwWCSkkrYQ2Khc49xaVedLW8UcEConNR8Nja-7fjQwJxpf_jkBt8eynOTQ24yccKX76BIZ1hybNHLVY532GEPncimxFTlyMBh/s320/20230315_170501.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Winter was having a last bit of fun this morning, covering our van windows with intricate designs that slowly melted away on our morning drive to school. </p><p>But the sun has shown brightly all day, and the blue skies and glorious brightness has been quite lovely. </p><p>You're losing, Winter. </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5965058869520151871.post-65635732612762355832023-03-14T08:30:00.000-11:002023-03-14T08:30:28.263-11:00A Month of Pictures: 14<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirs0EeE7qGVY1zUAZyEQpjHw-nkJOLhrgYXO_jiVx53lL13J7ImuTA2UEkys-qHi97F5wYPd1mTL4Q6bhb-pEtxJHtvYWMRKeJ3TShv3u1cA9hAIh42-dSVERr15L0GLA6wl78ARfCbuVP7AdmXEgVbv2_S4RnrnMENzOCoSpDRq0mL5nhlWkrDqCB/s4160/20230314_130010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="3120" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirs0EeE7qGVY1zUAZyEQpjHw-nkJOLhrgYXO_jiVx53lL13J7ImuTA2UEkys-qHi97F5wYPd1mTL4Q6bhb-pEtxJHtvYWMRKeJ3TShv3u1cA9hAIh42-dSVERr15L0GLA6wl78ARfCbuVP7AdmXEgVbv2_S4RnrnMENzOCoSpDRq0mL5nhlWkrDqCB/s320/20230314_130010.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>On Tuesdays, a friend and I take turns being librarian at our church school. </p><p>My order loving soul enjoys checking the stacks of books back into the system and sorting out 'upper elementary fiction', 'lower elementary non-fiction', etc into orderly piles. </p><p>I find great amusement in the first and second grader's antics -- </p><p>Their unchecked verbalizations: "You're not allowed to get books from those shelves, Mrs Miller said!" </p><p>Their unconcealed glee over the fact that I still have a hard time remembering some of their last names: "I'll just have to type it in for you!" </p><p>Their fierce intensity over all wanting to check out <i>The Unforgettable Joke Book: </i>"Tell you what," I say. "I'll make a list and put your name down so you for sure get it next!" We now have several holds on The Coveted Joke Book.</p><p>The older the grade, the more polite and demure the students become. It's interesting to see which students thank me, when I've checked out their new stack of books. </p><p>Then there's my least favorite job -- returning all those books to their proper place on the shelves. It's tedious and time consuming and gives my back and knees a workout. But there's also something satisfying about seeing the piles of books disappear and the rummaged through shelves restored to order. </p>Bethany Eicherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00279586692972368906noreply@blogger.com2