Summertime

It is only mid-June, but we've been busy, busy, busy.  Here is a peek....

We've visited lovely little churches out in the countryside.

Where the garden beacons

 And, the perfect place to sit awaits.

A long discussion took place about this man buried but  a few feet away.

We spoke of his talent and the gift he gave of this loveliest of songs.

To be continued....

A Quiet Life

I once heard a story of an elderly lady commenting, on the saying  "God doesn't give us more than we can stand" with the reply, "Nope, but sometimes He sure can bend ya double."  I had a good chuckle and didn't give it further thought.

While I don't want this blog (still dislike that word) to become a place of moaning and groaning, I feel  I must share recent events as a cautionary tale.

Due to my husband's crazy work schedule we had H & R Block do our taxes this year.  They were wonderful to work with and I highly recommend them based on the service they rendered us.  We scheduled a time to come in and sign everything and have our taxes electronically filed....all went well.  However, there was one little question  needing to be  answered and it was recommended  we call the IRS directly.  I still feel ill just thinking about that phone call.

As expected, my husband had to go through a verification process before the IRS agent would speak to him.  It was during this process that we discovered our identity had been stolen.....and the people who stole it had filed our taxes back in March!  I immediately felt sick.  What information did they have?  Obviously, Paul's social security number, but did they have mine?  What about my children's?  Our oldest will be 18 this December, would he have pre-made debt waiting for him?  I'm so careful with our information, how could this happen?

We filed an affidavit with the IRS, a police report in our hometown, filed reports with all three credit reporting agencies, filed a report with our bank and credit card company, etc...  Now we sit here and wait.  The waiting is the hardest part, but I know there is nothing I can do at this time.  How could this have happened?  I never give out personal information, I shred everything, and  we keep the security updated on our computers.  We don't know how they got our information, but they got it nonetheless.

I wish I had words of wisdom for this situation.  I have nothing; nothing, but a desire to return to a quiet life.

Prayer by George Frederic Watts (1817-1904)

"Mid all the traffic of the way,

Turmoil without, within;

Make of my heart a quiet place, 

And come and dwell therein."

~ Unknown

Let's Catch Up

I'm positive it appears I've fallen off the face of the earth, but I merely went to the edge.  Let's catch up, shall we?

Last year was a growing time for our family.  We had decided it would be best for myself and the children to return to Kentucky, while my husband remained at his job in Georgia.  Of course, tongues started wagging and I hadn't the energy to explain our choice to everyone I met.  I laugh now at how I once ended every discussion of my husband not living with us with "....but, we're very happily married."

I am the first to admit that it was a hard year....a year of broken washing machines, broken garage doors, broken bones....there is a pattern starting here.  For a time, it felt as if the moment his tail lights disappeared something would break and I would have to wait until his next return trip home for it to be fixed. We coped.  We missed one another. We adapted. And, we grew.

In January, our prayers were answered....sort of.  A new job was offered to my husband; a job with a competitive salary, good benefits, and a lot of travel.  With much discussion, we decided we could handle the amount of travel, after all, with working in Georgia he was gone almost 100% of the time as it was. How bad could it be?  Not too bad for the first three days...

Tuesday and Thursday nights I have the luxury of two uninterrupted hours to myself.  My daughter sings in the cathedral choir and on those nights I sneak off to the Brides Room for my time.  I read, I write, I listen to the beautiful sounds drifting from the choir room and I enjoy every quiet moment.  I love this time.

On March 8th, I sat in that upstairs room working on a writing project when I noticed that time had gotten away from me.  I usually meet Madeline in the downstairs hallways and she would be there soon.  I gathered my belongings, turned off the lights and headed out the door.  The hallway light was on....the stairwell light was not.  I really thought I could see well enough, but my last thought was of how this could be dangerous (for someone else).  I believe I missed the last two steps, not enough to really hurt you, right?  I immediately knew I was in trouble.  I tried calling for help, but no one was in that wing of the church at that hour.  I gathered my strewn belongings, found my phone, and tried to call the security man at the front desk.  I was so rattled I couldn't figure out how to use my phone and, once I calmed myself enough to push the correct buttons, I realized I did not have the church's number programmed into my phone.  Thank God for Google!  The call went straight to an answering machine informing me that if I had an emergency I should call the clergy on duty at ###-####.  Yes, even now I can't even begin to remember that number and of all times to not have a pen and paper.  By this time I'm talking to myself....


"You can't call Paul, he's in Chicago"


"Okay, just call Madeline and she'll get the security man."  Fail.  She must turn her phone off during practice.


"Okay, just call Paine (my 17 year old son) and he can drive to the church and take me to the hospital."  Fail. He had gone to a movie with friends....turning off his phone.

In the end, thirty minutes after the fall,  it was a dear friend"s husband who rescued me.

I won't bore you with the details of the ER visit.  Well, just maybe one little story.... My neighbors, upon hearing of my accident, gathered my two sons and met us at the hospital.
While I was having my foot x-ray, Hayden (the youngest) asked Madeline, "Was she crying a lot?"
"No", she replied.
After thinking about it for a bit, he asked, "Well, was she cussin' a lot?"
Evidently, the waiting room audience found this pretty funny and leaves me wondering if I need to watch my language.  LOL

In the end, the prognosis is too gory detailed to go into, but it suffices to say I messed my entire foot up.  A compression cast for two weeks was followed by an air cast for three and this Friday's appointment will inform me of my future.  I long to burn my crutches!

So, I did not fall off the face of the earth, I merely went to the edge (of my sanity).
I've been here, in my chair, with my impatience, looking at this.....

P.S. I promise to write more often, if you promise to visit more often.  Deal?

P.S.S. My lovely husband has managed to miss most of this drama.  He did come home for a couple of days, to assure himself I would live, before leaving for .......... Germany!  Some people have all the luck.

Happy New Year

Morning Ramble

I can not remember where I got this picture.
If it is yours please let me know.

Autumn burst forth in all her glory several weeks ago, but this morning I awoke to winter nipping at her heels.  It is cold!  Of course, I can hear my northern friends laughing hardily, but with temperatures moving along in the steady upper 70's, you get complacent.

This morning I awoke to a decidedly chilly morning, sending us all into a mad search for warmer jackets and 'real' shoes.  Yes, my daughter had to pack away her Toms!  I must admit to it being a happy day for me...I don't like Toms.  I thinking the company's intentions are wonderful, "With every pair you purchase, Toms will give a pair of new shoes to a child in need. One for one."  Great idea!  The problem?  I don't find them attractive or well-made.  I would rather buy attractive, well-made shoes and write a check for charity.  I know, I know, lots of people disagree with me... Before you ask, no, I did not buy my daughters shoes;  she bought them with babysitting money.  Okay, back to this morning... The sudden change in weather caught me unawares and put more stress on our already stressful mornings.

Without fail my alarm clock sounds at 5:30 every week day.  Quickly dressing, I make my way downstairs to prepare my morning coffee and to feed Miss Kitty.  I have 30 minutes of quiet to meet with God  before the day starts racing forth.  I cherish this peaceful time for I know that it is short lived.

By 6 o'clock the whirlwind morning routine has started.  My youngest, Hayden, is my first to awaken; his bus arrives at 7 a.m. and he is not a morning person :) A warm breakfast of cranberry-walnut oatmeal is ate, while I busily pack lunches, sign school planners, and find the missing permission slip.  I vow an oath beneath my breath to be more organized, but all too soon the big yellow bus is at the corner and out the front door he runs.  I always stand at the window and say a little prayer as he leaves...the same prayer I say as each of my children leave in the morning.

My oldest, Paine, is the next up, followed by Madeline, and the routine with each varies greatly... Paine doesn't like breakfast, can never find his 'A' day backpack, buys his lunch at school, and catches a ride with friends.  Madeline will only have toast for breakfast, is incredibly organized, will never buy lunch at school, and , begrudgingly, rides the bus. Yet, not a one leaves my home without hearing "I love you, have a great day!"  But, more importantly, they get their morning prayer as they walk away.

"Watch over thy child, O Lord, 

as his days increase,

may he increase in wisdom, stature, and in favor with both God and man.  

Through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen."

Birthday Celebrations

Tuesday was my birthday. 

 Tuesday, October 11, was a big birthday.  

Tuesday, October 11, was my 40th birthday....

I can't believe it myself! I think I'm going to like being able to say, "Well, now that I'm 40..." or "I'm 40 years old, I don't have to put up with this stuff..." 

40 is an adult. 

40 is a woman. 

40 is finding your stride. 

 Yes, I think I'm going to like this.

In honor of my mile-stone birthday I made a little bit of heaven ... Enjoy!

Ginger Cake with Lemon Icing

Ginger Cake with Lemon Icing

1/2 cup unsalted butter

1/2 cup brown sugar

3/4 cup light corn syrup

3/4 cup dark molasses

3 tsp. fresh ginger, finely grated

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

1 cup milk

2 large eggs, beaten

1 tsp. baking soda, dissolved in 2 Tbsp. of warm water

2 1/2 cups all purpose flour

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.  In a medium saucepan, melt butter along with sugar, syrup, molasses, 

ginger, and cinnamon.  Once butter has melted and all ingredients are well incorporated,

 remove from heat and add milk, eggs, and baking soda in it's water.

Measure flour into a large mixing bowl and pour in liquid ingredients; beating very well 

(this is a very liquid batter).  Pour batter into a  9"x13" pan that has been lightly greased and floured.

Bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until risen and firm.  Be careful not to over cook, as it is nicer when it is a bit sticky.  Cool on a wire rack.  Ice with Lemon Icing

Lemon Icing

(I prefer a very tart lemon flavor and the following recipe reflects that, but please adjust 

lemon rind and lemon juice to suit your personal taste)

Finely grated rind of 2 lemons

Juice of 2 lemons (told you I liked it tart!)

6 Tbsp. butter, softened

2 Tbsp. water (if needed)

6 cups of confectioners sugar

Cream butter with a 1 cup of the confectioners sugar.  Add grated lemon rind 

and lemon juice.  Continue adding confectioners sugar, one cup at a time,

 until reach desired consistency. 

 A bit of water may be added if  it gets too thick.

When The Frost is on the Punkin

by James Whitcomb Riley (1853-1916)

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,

And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock,

And the clackin’ of the guineys and the cluckin’ of the hens,

And the rooster’s hallylooyer as her tiptoes on the fence;

O, it’s then the time a feller is a-feelin’ at his best,

With the risin’ sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,

As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere

When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here–

Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,

And the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees;

But the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze

Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days

Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock–

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,

And the raspin’ of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;

The stubble in the furries–kindo’ lonesome-like, but still

A preachin’ sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;

The strawstack in the medder and the reaper in the shed;

The hosses in theyr stalls below–the clover overhead!–

O, it sets my hart a-clickin’ like the tickin’ of a clock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

Then your apples all is gethered, and teh ones a feller keeps

Is poured around teh cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;

And your cider-makin’s over, and your wimmern-folks is through

With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!…

I don’t know how to tell it–but ef such a thing could be

As the angels wantin’ boardin’, and they’d call around on me–

I’d want to ‘commodate ‘em–all the whole-indurin’ flock–

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.