Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Repetitive Lateness

For some odd reason I keep posting late at night. My days are so full of life and learning that despite the lateness of the hour at which I finally reach my bed, my mind is still alive with thoughts and the urge to share them.

Today began gently, with a quiet waking at seven, and the sound of my feet crossing our wooden floors as I went to Mom's room to weigh myself, hoping the nearly two weeks of fasting from my favorite things had succeeded in some loss of poundage. I lifted myself onto the scale and stared down at the waving needle. I shook my head for a moment and rearranged myself, waiting to see it move, telling me I'd lost nothing. But it didn't. It lay quiet where it was. I had! I had! I had lost some weight! Yes, it was a mere five pounds, but enough to make me smile broadly with the joy of it.

I slipped downstairs to a cup of warm Earl Grey tea and a long awaited slice of dark, moist, flavor infused zucchini bread and a page of War and Peace.

Then Mom, Johanna and I laid out our sewing and slipped into the gentle cycle of cutting, pinning, and the whir, whir, whirring of the sewing machine. I was cutting neck binding for a nightgown for Grace, and adding a wide stripe to the bottom of the gown for length, smiling at the effect of the pink floral fabric against the green gingham. The advent of Johanna from the sewing room, shrouded in the soft, floral bodice of her old fashioned nightgown, brought more happy, excited sighs from Mom and I, my eyes seeing the full picture, complete with the floor length skirt flowing from the delicacy of the loose bodice.

Lunch slipped in with the scent of fresh bread, and ripe, red tomatoes sliced in bright rings of scarlet loveliness. The cheese, between the folds of my slice of warm bread, touched my taste buds with its country simplicity.

In the afternoon, with my sewing finished, I lay on my bed to sleep away the weariness my body felt from the late nights and early mornings that had been crowding in around me like weeds in upon a rosebush.

We went to a birthday party this evening, at the city pool. I still can feel the warm, wet weight of Matthew on my back in the water, his life jacket pressing against me, and his laughter filling my ears as I bounced through the shallow water on my toes, laughing with him. Now I am lying in bed, my face clean, my hair still slightly damp, and the echoes of a new song filling my head, the high sound of Samuel's guitar and the words God laid upon me....

You made me, like a painting. I am a work of art.
You stained me, with the crimson, power of Your heart.



Saturday, July 26, 2008

Harold and Judy

It is late, nearly midnight, but my thoughts are full and I feel much like writing.  We spent time, tonight, with a dear elderly couple who love us to pieces and make one's face an explosion of rosy embarrassment.

Harold is a pianist, an amazing one.  He played many of our favorite Broadway songs, his fingers rolling fluidly over the soft keys, his voice rising from his chest while his chin bobbed up and down in the effort of his vibrato.  His long fingers would flip through the worn pages of his music books, stopping on a song to glance up at us with delighted eyes, then launching into the rolling chords of the tune.

Judy stands beside him, singing with composed abandon, relishing the fun of the songs.  She knows the words by heart.  The melodies are wrapped like an endless yarn ball in her head.  Her eyes are glittering, alive with song, as if even her thoughts rang with melody and music.  She loves old books and old music, loves the sound the piano makes when her husband sits at it, loves her husband, and loves us.

It was their first visit to our house, a house whose walls and floors and furniture were dusted and tidied to the best they could be, a house ready and waiting for them.  We had spent the whole long day and the day before preparing for our guests.  Now we sat within its walls, mixing our hearts and voices.

We sang Judy to their car, our voices loud under the stillness of the night.  The moon glittered down, lifting the sound of our voices like stars from our hair, carrying us into the velvety depths of the sky. 

The car doors closed after them all too soon.  Their voices cried good bye.  Harold's hand waved from behind the clouded car window.

And Johanna, Grace and I sang out way back into the house, closing the white door behind us whilst our voices faded to happy whispers.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Something about me

I was browsing through the blogs in my blogroll and found that both Shannon's blog and Tiffany's have posted on them a "meme-ish" sort of thing. I want to do both since they sound so thrilling but have decided to do Shannon's first. It offers so much "scope for the imagination".:)

Note:  After I wrote this I found I'd just been tagged by Tiffany!:)  Thank you.

I am: ever so blessed.

I think: aloud.

I know: him who lives in me.

I have: so, so, much to be grateful for, more than my simple, human words can describe.

I wish: that I were less of a bumblehead.

I hate: hardly nothing in the real sense of the word.

I miss: my dear ones scattered all over the country.

I fear: human judgement... I must blush here, but it is true.

I feel: thoughtful.

I hear: My little brother and sister rough-housing in the living room and the sound of my sister Johanna's fingers flying over the keys of the computer keyboard.

I smell: only the clean warmth of the rug before me. Anything deeper my stuffy nose keeps me from.

I crave: being in a room with all my family, smiling at one another.

I search: for peace and strength in my mind and soul.

I wonder: how the rest of my day will pan out.

I regret: saying thoughtless things.

I love: My Creator and the world he has given me, my dear family and my dear friends, warm, savory food, and all my lovely books.

I ache: deep inside.

I am not: as graceful as my sister daily reminds me to be. :)

I believe: in the hope God has given me.

I dance: when my heart is light.

I sing: with all my heart, because my voice shares so much of what I am.

I cry: because it comforts me when I am sad, because joy warrants tears, and because God fills me with emotion.

I don't always: say the right things, but I will never stop trying.

I fight: to resist the temptation to read, though far less than is good for me.

I write: with everything that is in me, with fury and vigor and heart and soul.

I win: as much as I need to.

I lose: my train of thought much too much.:)

I never: know what a day will hold.

I always: am dreaming, of things real and unreal... :) silly me

I confuse: everyone because I talk much too fast.

I listen: to the sounds of life being lived around me, to every tiny sound in reach of my ears, unless that is, I'm buried in a book.:)

I can usually be found: thinking.

I am scared: when I think I've hurt someone I love, or when I wake from a nightmare

I need: nothing but the Lord of all.

I am happy about: a package coming in the mail.

I imagine: stories.

I am wearing: my blue dress

I look forward to: seeing my Daddy smile.

I must go now..... see you soon!


Tuesday, July 8, 2008

And We Went to Missouri

Yes... finally... to tell the story of our lovely trip to Missouri, to see dear friends and spend long desired time with them, something we had hardly dared hope to ever be possible. I cannot begin to describe our joy at the opportunity and how it blessed us to go, and do, and be there. I am already missing the dear ones; Liz and Isabelle and sweet Victoria. I spent so much time with them that I long to see the girl's sweet little faces again and feel their warmness near me.

Children.... what a gentle and precious gift... like the scent of flowers, flowers that remind you of your own childhood and make it seem all the closer.

Johanna took so many lovely photos.... I will let her now tell the story.....


Our trip started with cramming every corner and cranny of Sam's jetta full, hugging everyone goodbye, and turning on the music!

Emma and I tried not to be bored during the long 7 hour trip. (due to several wrong turns;)) We ate twizzlers and dreamed of soon seeing Liz!

Finally we arrived and were simply beside ourselves with joy, to see our beautiful friend again and her two adorable little girls. It was wonderful beyond words to see each other, chat and catch up on news, and actually hear Liz talk again! =)

I was especially beside myself with joy, for I found myself and my camera completely taken by little Victoria and sweet Isabelle.

Victoria Eleanor...

Isabelle Rose...

Saturday morning we took a stroll down to Mr. and Mrs. Fetter's house...

Emma held Victoria while Mrs. Fetters showed us around their beautiful new home.

Jonathan, Isabelle and I were a happy trio...

Isabelle loves Johnny sooooo much, she follows him everywhere! Sometimes though, she is shocked by the things he does!

Like not letting her go outside...

I decided to come to her rescue

But Johnny had something else on his mind...

His bicycle!!!! =)

Back at  Liz's house, we played with the little ones...

Then we felt hungry and so decided to fix dinner...well, I suppose you could say Liz and Em fixed dinner...I was busy with my camera;).

Sweet Victoria and her thumb...

Isabelle was very impatient for her dinner...

So, I tried to reason with her...

She seemed to like my idea =).

"What is this?"

"Ohhhhhhh!!!!" =)


Rosy could hardly contain her excitement!

She was pretty hungry ;).

"Give me that, you camera lady!!!!"

The next morning brought church and a dinner of delicious spaghetti at Joe and Christine's. (Liz's brother and sister in law)

Chloe felt a little hungry

*Photo taken by Sam D. Ramsey

I felt a little bored with the TV...

*Photo taken by Sam D. Ramsey

Emma talking to Victoria

James told us of his paintball adventures the day before

Chloe was quite alarmed at his story

*Photo taken by Sam D. Ramsey

After dinner we watched Napoleon Dynamite.  (Emma and I had never seen it)

Yeah, it was pretty funny...

*Photo taken by Sam D. Ramsey

Chloe thought it was hilarious!

*Photo taken by Sam D. Ramsey

Darling Isabelle woke up from her nap and came to see us.

*Photo taken by Sam D. Ramsey

Victoria woke up from her nap and didn't feel quite as happy.

So, we decided to step outside into the sunshine...

Isabelle found some yummy grass! =)

Sam let me use his camera to do a photo shoot with Liz. =)

She was a perfect model...

Rosie and her Mommy in the grass.

So happy to be together!!!!!

Sweet Victoria smiling up at her Mommy

And frowning at my camera!  ;)


Walking home....

Goodbye dear ones!!!!

And thus ended our precious trip, I hope you enjoyed looking!

~Johanna and Emma

Monday, July 7, 2008

A Tangled Web

Lucy Maud Montgomery scores again!

I recently acquired a lovely antique copy of this book, and after beginning it yesterday afternoon, and finishing it this morning, I could not help but share its story.

A Tangled Web

Harriet Dark was a young woman deeply in love.  When her fiance' is killed at sea, she dies of a broken heart.  But he had given her a gift, something made before his death and received before hers, a fancy, engraved jug with their names on it.
The jug floats from place to place in the Dark and Penhallow families, until a century after its creation, it has become the family treasure. 
When the clan head, Becky Dark, is on her deathbed, she calls a "levee", asking that all the clan be present for the purpose of passing the precious jug on.  But her decision spurs into action a year of unrest in the clan, and many lives change their course before the final decision regarding the jug is brought forth.
Gay Penhallow is a lovely young girl with only love and spring in her thrilling heart, unsuspecting of the sorrows that await her.
Naomi Dark spends her weary days caring for the husband whose war wounds have taken away his memory of her, so that he only knows her as his kind nurse, not the darling wife whom he loved with all his love.
Joscelyn Dark left her husband on the night of their wedding and the two have lived apart ever since, never speaking of what happened between them on that mysterious night.
Donna Dark little dreams that the man she has been brought up to hate, and who has ever hated her, is the man she will suddenly and irrevocably lose her heart to.
Margaret Penhallow dreams only of the little house in the hollow and childish laughter to fill it.
These and the many other stories of the Dark and Penhallow clan are woven gently throughout this wonderful book.  They entranced me, heart and soul, as I read it, and the surprising and thrilling way it ended brought tears from my eyes and a delighted smile on my face as I turned the last page and laid the cover closed.
L.M.Montgomery never fails to capture the reader and pull them into her characters lives, making them feel as if they'd know them, always, and never want to leave them till the story ends.  Her breathtaking descriptions of the lovely scenery of Prince Edward Island and her quaint and humorous way of telling the character of the island's people is too delightful to be missed.  
I am ever so happy I own this book.:)

Below is the summary from the back of the book.  
Over the years sixty members of the Dark family and sixty Penhallows have married one another - but not without their share of fighting and feuding.  Now Aunt Becky, the eccentric old matriarch of the clan, has bequeathed her prized possession: a legendary heirloom jug.  But the name of the jug's new owner will not be revealed for one year.  In the next twelve months beautiful Gay Penhallow's fiance' Noel Gibson, leaves her for sly and alluring Nan Penhallow; reckless Peter Penhallow and lovely Donna Dark, who have hated each other since childhood, are inexplicably brought together by the jug; Hugh and Joscelyn Dark, separated on their wedding night ten years ago for reasons never revealed, find a second chance - all watched over by the mysterious Moon Man, who has the gift of second sight.  Then comes the night when Aunt Becky's wishes will be revealed... and the family is in for the biggest surprise of all.

Ahh.... I do like it.:) I shall leave you now and go on to my next book, War and Peace, by Leo Tolstoy.