I woke up this morning around 3:25 to help Michael go potty, and I could feel the difference. It had warmed up outside. We have all been expecting it and waiting for it, but it’s interesting that you can feel it inside that it’s better outside. I think when the outside temperatures are 30 degrees below zero, every possible drafty place in the house is felt. That kind of relentless, angry cold finds its way through walls and joist gaps and around windows and gets into the house no matter what the furnace thermostat says. It might be 70 degrees in the air of the house, but stand close to an outside wall and you can feel the cold radiating from the walls. I don’t know if that’s an oxymoron or not — I thought only heat radiated. But you get my drift.

When I got out of bed at 6:20 I looked at the outside thermometer on our front deck and it said 2 degrees below zero. And I am not making this up, it felt warmer. When I let the dogs out and went out on the deck in the dark waiting for them to finish their business, I stood there in my nightgown and slippers in 2 below weather and it felt more tolerable. Today it’s supposed to reach 10 above and tomorrow the 20s above, and we’re all so happy and relieved about that. Polar Vortex, good riddance! is what I say. I read online that a few nights ago Minnesota was actually colder than Mars. There isn’t a word accurate enough to express how that feels, but here are a few tries: harrumph…gahhhh…sheesh…yikes….blech. And the best word of all for that kind of inhuman cold?

No.

Today our two Schnauzers will make their quarterly trip to The Bad Lady. Her name is really Joyce but our dogs have called her The Bad Lady for years; they hate the loud buzzing of the clippers over every part of their sensitive little bodies and the way she plucks hair from their ears and the humiliating squeezing she does in nether schnauzer regions. They look so forlorn when I drop them off at Joyce’s house.

Here’s a picture of 12 year-old Edith taken a couple of days ago, so you can see how desperately she needs to be groomed:

When she gets this unkempt we call her Sesame Street Wolf.

This blog post is entitled Odd and End, and the photo above would be the “odd” part. Edith looks shaggy, daft, desperate and a bit odd, don’t you think? When she returns from The Bad Lady today she’ll look sleek and naked and clean and shiny — I’ll post a picture later.

And for the “end” part of the post, here are a few shots I took with my iPhone at the end of 2013. This was the Panzanella salad I made as part of our Christmas Eve dinner, minus the bread. Panzanella has big chunks of sauteed-in-butter-until-crisp French bread tossed in it right before serving, and it’s my favorite salad.

See the little julienned ribbons of fresh basil in there too? Yum.

And we also had some stuffed baked potatoes, as I mentioned in a previous post. I kept them in the oven just a little too long so they sort of melted out of their skins, but I didn’t hear one complaint all evening…

And on Christmas Eve, three of my grandchildren sang in their church’s children’s choir, and of course I had to go sit and listen and take it all in, and wipe tears and send up silent but truly spilling over thank-yous to the Lord, again and again. Mr. McBoy had a solo and his voice is beautiful and pitch perfect. If you click on the picture to enlarge it, you might be able to see him in the white shirt (with the blond hair) in the group of children at the left of the altar.

And at the end of the year, Lake Superior (of course) had begun to freeze (or “make ice” as Michael always says), and our tremendous winds caused a lot of the new ice to break apart into 2-inch thick shards and pile up on on the shore. Our son-in-law Jeremy retrieved one of these tiles and brought it over so we could see it. It was about 18 inches wide and 2-3 feet long. We studied it for a while and even took a lick, because Lake Superior provides our drinking water and is some of the best tasting in the world. Not that I’ve tasted lots of the world’s water, but compared to Germany, England, Scotland, Ireland, Canada, Mexico, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, and at least twenty-five of our American states, Lake Superior water is, well, superior. Jeremy quickly carved a tree on the ice slab and put it in a flower box on our deck.

Later this afternoon Michael goes in for an MRI of his brain. His neurologist wants to rule something out, so this is part of the journey, I guess.

Here are some things I’m thankful for today… the neon magenta sunrise we had this morning, a good night’s sleep last night, the promise of a warm-up to almost 30 degrees this weekend, a date at the symphony this Saturday night with my grandson, a hot cup of tea, a new book to read (and it’s set in Scotland!), a recent letter from a beloved friend faraway, Edith’s health and digestion getting better, the new home health aide assigned once a week to come in and help Michael, and the reassurance of God’s love and power.

I’ll leave with you something that made me smile yesterday. As you might know, Michael’s speech is often unintelligible and/or very muffled, but once in a while he speaks out a word or a phrase that’s as loud and clear as a bell. While I was clearing away his breakfast dishes he said to me, “You’re shapely!” Which I thought was a very kind assessment of my physical being. I laughed and responded, “Well thank you! And how’s my hair look?” (because it was wild and frizzy morning hair) and Michael said in total seriousness, “Improved.”

Aha.

From your shapely and improved friend,

Well, this “polar vortex” that’s been on the national news has caused our wind chill temperatures to fall to -61 degrees this morning. Unbelievable. I’m ready to emigrate. Alaska sounds balmy right about now and indeed would be a more temperate place to live. When we let the dogs out to go potty they can only be out for less than one minute before their feet start to freeze and they have trouble walking. I’m sure the neighbors found it interesting when I was out on the front deck in my plaid flannel nightgown this morning half bent over at the waist, clapping my hands and urgently calling our Schnauzers to hurry, hurry, go potty, come back in Edith, come on Millie! Then there was more Schnauzer butt-cleaning once Edith was back inside. People who don’t have garages are finding their cars dead this morning. Our governor ordered all schools closed today because of the danger of exposing our skin to the bitterly cold air. But we Minnesotans have our hands held over our eyes, bravely scanning the weather horizon, because by Thursday of this week we’re supposed to be back in the twenties above zero, and that will make us feel giddy and like kicking our heels up. T-shirt weather, some will say.

Edith is still sick and I’ll be taking her to the vet today. I’m supposed to follow her out into the dangerous, flesh-freezing air and knee-deep snow, catch some of her diarrhea before it gets mingled with the snow, and take it to the vet with us. I know that with God all things are possible but I just don’t know about this task.

Yesterday my daughter Sara asked if I had a few minutes to watch something on her laptop, and of course I said yes. She and I sat on my bed and watched this short video of a pastor named Ed. By the time it was over, we were both crying. Watching it was one of those lens-changers for me, when the cloudy lenses I was looking through were taken off and exchanged for some clearer, sharper ones. I hope you’ll watch this and tell me what you think.

This message reminded me that just because Michael is sick doesn’t mean that each day isn’t still full of possibilities. I might need to wear some strong lenses in order to discern what those possibilities are, but they’re there, and I’m thankful this video so gently and powerfully spoke to my heart. Sometimes I need the Lord to open my eyes to what He’s doing in our lives. Sometimes I need the Lord to open my eyes about why we live in northern Minnesota. 🙂

Maybe there’s someone you know who would benefit from seeing part of Pastor Ed’s story too. Feel free to point them to this video.

Wherever you are, I send a wave from The Great Frozen North and thank you for stopping by here today….

Here in the Great Frozen North it feels like Narnia to me, like winter will always be. It would be so much nicer if the animals would talk and I could find a lamppost in a wood, and if Aslan was on the move. And it would also be nice if our forecast for tonight wasn’t for 40-50 degrees below zero wind chills.

According to those who keep such records, we have experienced our third snowiest December on record, with just under 40 inches having fallen in the past 28 days. Snow is again predicted for tonight and tomorrow, so we could actually break the record and then it would give we weather-obsessed Minnesotans something to talk about.

This is a picture I took by leaning out the sliding glass double door in my office, looking out to our back yard. The snow is almost three feet deep.

And since I’m not done listening to Audrey Assad music, I thought I would share this music video called “Winter Snow” by Audrey Assad and Chris Tomlin. So beautiful to me. Have you heard this one?

A couple of days ago Michael and I had some free time before one of his latest doctor’s appointments, and we decided to go see the movie, “Saving Mr. Banks.” I absolutely loved it. I would see it again. Have any of you seen it? If so, what did you think? It was very melancholy at times, but I’m one of those people who never minds that kind of movie. I have friends who won’t see movies because they know they might cry while watching, but I’m not deterred by that. I wonder why that is? Is it because our days have become so numbed that I welcome the chance to cry about someone else’s sad story or misfortune? I don’t know. I would never want to see a movie like “Twelve Years a Slave” because I think it would do me in — seeing cruelty and such venomous hatred does me in. So I guess there are movies I avoid.

I made an easy dinner in our crockpot, with no recipe. I think it could be called Mexican Lasagna, because I layered corn tortillas, diced tomatoes, green chiles, cooked lean ground beef, grated cheese and enchilada sauce several times, and cooked it on low all day long. Everyone loved it and I served it with a green salad. I’m in a soup mood too, and since for Christmas Sharon gave me some neat white individual soup crocks for serving French onion soup, I’ll be scouting for the best recipe I can find online. Unless you have one, then you could share it with me!

Today I downloaded a read-the-Bible-in-two years program and Michael and I will be starting together on January 1st. This morning before we got out of bed I read two Psalms of his request to him, and we sang this song together as best we could. What an amazing thing it is to wake up with the darkness of Parkinson’s always in our home, only to have hope and peace settle over us as we read His Word and sing His truth. There is power in God’s Word and I thank Him for making His presence known to us through it. I certainly understand why the enemy of our souls does everything he can to prevent couples from reading and praying together. I’m so thankful for a good start this morning and how it set the course for the rest of the day, even and especially though sadness is a constant door-knocker since Michael’s ability to walk has deteriorated so drastically.

Here are two quotes that inspired me today: “As oil lubricates an engine, so meditation facilitates the diligent use of means of grace (reading of Scripture, hearing sermons, prayer, and all other ordinances of Christ), deepens the marks of grace (repentance, faith, humility), and strengthens one’s relationships to others (love to God, to fellow Christians, to one’s neighbors at large).” — Joel Beeke.

And from Thomas Watson: “A Christian without meditation is like a solider without arms, or a workman without tools. Without meditation the truths of God will not stay with us; the heart is hard, and the memory is slippery, and without meditation all is lost.”

Oh, how I identify with the last quote. I’ve often marveled at my ability to quickly flip-flop from having a heart full of trust and peace to one giving way to despair, flippancy and hopelessness. I have seen a correlation to those latter beasts with my neglect of daily prayer time and slow meditation on the scriptures.

I could share more, but it has gotten dark and my husband is waiting for me in the living room so we can watch some TV together. The Netflix DVDs we have to choose from tonight are the British crime drama called “Silk,” the movie “Lincoln,” and disc one of the series “The Barchester Chronicles.” I’d love to know if some of you have seen any of these and liked them or not.

I’m thinking and praying about my one word for 2014. Last year my word was “honor” and I almost believe I should repeat it since I failed at it so frequently. Sort of like repeating a grade in elementary school, I might need to repeat the year of honor. Another word that seems to be a divine nudge is “gentle.” In my family of origin we had many good things passed down, along with many not so good things. But the gentleness gene faded from our family line years ago, I think. I’ve always wanted to be a kind and gentle woman. Perhaps the Lord will work gentleness into my life in 2014. Perhaps I will humble myself and cooperate with Him.

How about you? What might your one word be for the coming year?

We usually put up a pretty tall Christmas tree, but this year I wasn’t in the mood to do so much. So Sara put up our small tree and we love it. It sits on a desk to the left of our fireplace in the dining room, and can be seen from the living room, kitchen, and even from the street outside. We used only a third of our ornaments, but every possible space was covered. I told Sara, “We don’t decorate our trees, we festoon our trees!” There’s something about heavily trimming a tree that makes it look beautiful to me.

This year we didn’t put our usual tree topper on either. Sara hung a crown at the top that makes me think of this song that we sang in church years ago. And you might have to click to see the “believe” ornament there, along with the feathery cardinal in flight. Three themes that will forever be important to me: Jesus is the King of the universe and all things are in His control, and the appearance of every cardinal (live or not) helps me to believe in all His promises even if I have to wait for them.

You can click on these pictures to enlarge them if you like.

Over the years friends and family have given me many cardinal ornaments — how many can you count below? 🙂 There’s an older ornament roughly in the middle of the picture that is precious to me — when Sharon was a little girl she made it by taking the top of an orange juice can, pounding holes with nail and hammer to make an angel with outspread wings, and then she glued green eyelet around the edge.

We have carols playing every day. What have you been listening to? My favorite Christmas Carol, “O Holy Night” always makes me cry. The words below are where I usually lose it when we sing this carol.

On Christmas Eve our family will be coming over and we’ll have a meal together. Everyone brings something just like we did on Thanksgiving, so the labor is shared. We’ll have Beef Burgundy, Stuffed-baked Potatoes (recipe with photos here), roasted vegetables, panzanella, rolls and butter, and French silk pie for dessert. We’ll sing carols and maybe watch a Christmas movie too.

On Christmas morning everyone will return later in the morning after they’ve opened gifts with their families at home, and we’ll have a brunch that we’ll snack from probably all the live-long day.

I am always thinking, trying, praying about how to keep worshipful and focused at Christmastime…about how Jesus willingly and humbly left His place in heaven, came into this world as a helpless baby and then died on the cross, hated and misunderstood by most, to save people like me, who are hopeless without Him.

I pray that your Christmas is full of His peace and His joy….

Yesterday was a full one and I’m thankful for a day at home today. It snowed another inch or two, adding to the beauty, and nothing seems more right than to hole up at home with a fire in the hearth, carols in the air and a husband who still tries to belt out some tunes in spite of his Parkinson’s-related voice difficulties.

For the first thirty years of our marriage, Michael was always singing or whistling. Mostly he sang worship songs as he worked, in a fine deep voice that somehow carried cheerfulness and worship all on the same sound waves. “Ooooohhh magnify the Loooorrrd, for Heeeee is worthy to be praaaaaised!” or “The steadfast love of the Looooord never ceases, His mercy never comes to an eeeeennnnnnd!” were just two of the many in his happy repertoire.

These days, for whatever strange reason, he’s singing some new songs. His voice is barely above a whisper now, but if he exerts great effort he can “belt” out a line or two that can be heard across the room, and these are the songs we hear most often:

“What’s it all about, Alfie?”

“Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to work we go.” From the movie Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

And from the movie My Fair Lady, “I could have danced all night.”

I miss the worship music, but it could be a lot worse, like if in his older years he started singing rap music. Or the twangiest country tunes. That would be hard to take.

So yesterday a lot of things were decided for Michael. At his neurology appointment they tweaked his meds, ordered an MRI to assess the pressures of his slightly too-large brain ventricles, ordered a workup with a urologist, scheduled a four hour neuro-psych test, and prescribed a wheelchair. He is still walking, but with quite a lot of difficulty and festinating (extremely rapid shuffling) most of the time, so even though it seems so sad to me, I think having the wheelchair here is the right thing.

On a lighter note, a person I follow on Instagram (if you’re on Instagram you can follow me at JulieBalm) who owns two Schnauzers recently posted a picture of the bottom of one of her dog’s paws. She said they smelled like Fritos. Then another person commented that yes, her Schnauzer’s paws smell like popcorn. Apparently this is a Schnauzer thing. So of course I had to scoop up Edith and Millie to sniff the bottom of their furry little feet, and guess what? Fritos! How is it that a dog can walk around outside in the grass and dirt and (for us) snow and cement, and their paws smell like Eau de Fritos was sprayed on them?

If you have a dog, have you ever smelled the bottom of their feet? I’d love to know if you have, and if so, what their feet smell like? Maybe you’d like to go take a sniff right now so you can come back to leave a comment so we can start gathering some serious data on this phenomenon.

Here’s a picture of Millie, and the pathetic look she gave me after I smelled her paws. Look at the way she’s milking the situation, lifting her little foot to rouse all the sympathy she possibly can. She put her ears down and looked at me as if to say, “Mom. I don’t like it when you do dat.”

This is the same dog who had the audacity to tinkle on our bed this morning. We’ve always suspected that behind all her quirkiness lurks a dog bent on revenge.

“You sniff my paws? I wet your bed.”

That’s all there is to it.

Send help. 🙂

“I am more sinful and flawed than I ever dared believe, more loved and welcomed than I ever dared hope.”

Elyse M. Fitzpatrick

*         *         *         *         *

This quote went deep this morning when I read it. I think my awareness of the first phrase in the quote is getting clearer these days. And that is necessary.

I think my awareness of the second phrase is growing too, but it’s still a bit fuzzy.

Seventeen below zero in our little part of the world today.

Since you stopped by here, could you please pray for us today? Thank you so much!

Sometimes there are places in Scripture I keep returning to, passages that seem like I’m supposed to camp in for a long time until the truths get deep down in my innermost being. Psalm 40 is one of these passages.

Hello my friends. You know, I really do consider my faithful blog readers friends. Who but a friend would take time out of their busy life to read a few words and see some pictures on a little rambling blog? I’ve known some of you for decades from my SoCal days (hi Denel! hi Tauni! hi Shari! hi Su!), know some of you from my many years in Minnesota (hi Carey! hi Linda! hi Sue! hi Diane! hi Ginny!), know a few of you because we’ve gone to the same church or are in a group together (hi Gail! hi Lorna! hi Pat! hi Kay J! hi Jodi! hi Kristi!) and I’ve “met” some of you through the internet even though we’ve never been together face to face (hi Kay S! hi Jeannie! hi Ember! hi Helen! hi Roberta! hi Connie! hi Linda!), and some of you are truly family (hi Sharon! hi Carolyn! hi Sara! hi Christy! hi Savannah! hi Dorothy! hi Debbie! hi Lauren!). If I haven’t mentioned your name it’s not because I didn’t care to, it’s because my 56 year-old memory has become sieve-like in the past few years and has officially lost its Steel Trap status.

We are in the midst of a three-day-long winter storm here in Northeastern Minnesota. We received over a foot of snow yesterday, are expecting at least another foot today, and the wind is blowing it all horizontally. You know you’re getting hit when The Weather Channel sends people to your city to stay for a few days so your weather can be featured on cable all over the world.

Edith and Mildred most definitely do not like this weather, and must be coerced out into the deep snow in the yard to go potty. Sometimes I have to go out on the front steps with them and say repeatedly, “Go potty! No, don’t come up these stairs Edith! Get out there and go!” And they understand me and finally give in and leap out into the drifts to squat. They might be outside less than one minute, but when they come back in their little schanuzie backs are wet with snow and they shake off vigorously and act so happy to be in the warm house again.

We’ve had Christmas carols playing ever since Thanksgiving, and this is what can be heard in our home today… click here and the music will open in a new window and you can listen as you read, if you like. I love the whole album.

I wish I could have taken a picture to show how densely the snow is falling. Instead I took this one of our large outdoor ornaments being blown about in one of the flower boxes on our front deck. As always, you can click these to enlarge them if you like.

This photo below was taken from our living room, looking out toward three little crab apple trees in the side yard. Minutes later about a hundred cedar waxwings flew to the trees and gobbled up many of the cherry-sized apples while the snow and wind whipped the branches they were clinging to.

Sara always puts a few live touches to things around the house, and here are some little pines she put in containers for our dining room mantel.

I love this big mug below — Carolyn made that for me when she was in high school.

And oh, when the weather outside is frightful, our fire is so delightful! We light it turn it on every day and I can’t even convey how grateful I am to have a cheery blaze for all our meals. And our in between meal times too.

I decided to string together another simple banner for our living room, and even though it’s not Christmas-themed, the blue jays make me smile and it brings me pleasure to look at it. Banners and garlands are in! If you want to make something simple with the children in your life, google the word banner and/or garland and check out some of the beautiful things people are making. I saw one online last night made from red and silver cording and silver jingle bells! Gorgeous and easy.

This sweet little cardinal scented wax warmer sits on Michael’s dresser in our bedroom. It gives a bit of light, and the scent of the melted wax is “clean and slightly masculine” according to Sara, who gave me the warmer. See the unique wreath behind it? That was a gift from my dear friend Su years ago, made from the pages of a hymnal.

We don’t have our big tree up yet, although a day like today would be perfect for tree trimming. We do have our little bedroom tree up, however. Mrs. Nisky came to spend the night a week ago and she and I worked on it together. Then later that night as she fell asleep on her pallet of blankets close to our bed, the red and white lights on the tree were the perfect night light.

This Friday my dear friend Sue and I will be going out to dinner and then later attending the symphony together. Someone gave me season tickets to the symphony this year and I’m quite excited about it. I took my granddaughter Clara to the November performance, Sue and I will enjoy the Christmas one, and then in January I’ll take Mr. McBoy, who listens to classical music all the time and will love it too.

Things in our home are quickly changing, and I don’t like it one bit. I figure it’s okay to say that since the Lord knows how I feel anyway. I’m praying constantly for help and strength and humility and compassion and grace, so that I’ll be a gentle, gracious caregiver to Michael. We’ve had so many visits from several professionals in the past weeks; a great older man who’s a Physical Therapist, an insightful and patient woman who’s an Occupational Therapist, an efficient and understanding young woman who’s the nurse who will visit twice a month. Eventually a home health aide will come twice a week and I’m still trying to wrap my mind around that, seeing as she’ll be coming to help Michael shower and do exercises, but he has stated more than once that he likes it when his wife does that for him. And I totally understand. I wouldn’t want some stranger coming in to help me shower! So why would he? What to do, what to do…I pray the Lord will smooth this approaching pathway before us and make things straight and clear.

Are you someone who appreciates a little comic relief? I certainly am. Just today I was talking on the phone to my friend Su and we were discussing how important and sometimes difficult it is to always speak words to others that build, help or encourage. I told her how I used to have a printed sign on the kitchen windowsill of our other house, something I got from Ann Voskamp’s blog years ago that said in beautiful lettering, “Only Speak Words That Make Souls Stronger,” and how that is my heart’s desire. And I told her how I have occasional failures with this and how sad and disheartening it is to me. And then our serious conversation took a comic turn when Su said, “I’ll bet there are words you’re saying to Michael that years ago you never dreamed you’d be saying” and I replied without missing a beat, “Yes, like ‘don’t put your cane in the toilet!'” and we cracked up. She knew I meant absolutely no disrespect to Michael and I knew she would understand because she knows and loves him. But she was absolutely right. In 1981 when I married my strong, handsome and hardworking husband and said the words “I do,” I could never have imagined that 30 years later the words I’d be frequently saying to him would be, “Big steps!” and “Don’t put your cane in the toilet.”

Yesterday my son-in-law Jeremy reminded me that even though so much of Michael’s mental and physical abilities are diminishing, the spiritual wisdom, humility and grace he exhibits are decades ahead of other people his age. I was grateful for those words and knew deep in my heart they were truth. I know I would not be bearing the ravages of Parkinson’s with the same patience as Michael does.

We are taking things a day at a time here, sometimes an hour at a time actually. Isn’t that what we’re given anyway? Just the moments that make up the days that comprise the years of our lives? None of us knows what tomorrow will bring, but I do think I can say I know one thing tomorrow will bring — it will bring the faithfulness of God. No matter what happens to any of us, God will be faithful to us.

Psalm 36:5-9 says,

Your love, Lord, reaches to the heavens,
    your faithfulness to the skies.
Your righteousness is like the highest mountains,
    your justice like the great deep.
You, Lord, preserve both people and animals.
How priceless is your unfailing love, O God!
    People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
They feast on the abundance of your house;
    you give them drink from your river of delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
    in your light we see light.

How wonderful this passage of Scripture is to me. His love and faithfulness to us reach to the heavens! How many billions and trillions of miles high is that? He is preserving us, and our animals! Edith and Mildred are being preserved by God! We can take refuge in the shadow of His wings, and in the deepest darkness we can see light because He is the Light of the World.

I think I need to meditate on this Psalm today, how about you?

It’s time for me to go make a little lunch for Michael now. The snow continues to fall and the forecast says it will pile up through the night. Then by this Saturday the deep freeze will sweep in and blast us with temperatures that fall to 20 below zero (minus 28 Celsius). I never mind the snow we see in Minnesota, but the older I get the more difficulty I have with the bitter below-zero temps. I guess I should just revel in our 25 degrees above zero winter wonderland today and deal with the plummeting temps when they finally do plummet.

Are there any of you who visit this little blog now and then and have never introduced yourself? I would so love to “meet” you. If you can bring yourself to leave a comment today, I would be blessed to read it and know you are there.

I give a wave to you all, and say a prayer to our Heavenly Father, asking Him to bless, keep, help, and cheer you as you walk out the path in front of you today…

Yesterday I took a couple of hours and updated our dining room chalkboard wall. If you’ve never seen the first drawing I did, you can click here to take a peek.

I wanted to draw something that would be appropriate for Thanksgiving, and later next month if I can get it together I plan on doing a drawing with a Christmas theme. I searched around the web for a few minutes and found what I wanted to do on this blog.

I’m fairly satisfied with how it turned out:

I’m preaching to myself with this message, you know?

And we also have a beautiful centerpiece on the table, ready for our Thanksgiving meal tomorrow. I love the feathers Sara put in this year’s creation! All photos can be enlarged by clicking on them. Can you find the turnip in the arrangement? 🙂

We will have fifteen people here, and we’ll enjoy all the traditional fixings — turkey and stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, cranberry sauce, roasted asparagus, rolls, pies and more. My favorite part of the day is always when we go around the table to say what we’re thankful for. The only one who won’t be able to share tomorrow is the newest member of our family, little Louisa, who is 16 months old. When it’s her turn she’ll probably say, “Uh? Uh?” and we’ll all get a kick out of that. But all of us are thankful to the very bottom of our hearts for her, and I know she’ll be mentioned.

I hope no matter what you’re going through, you’ll be able to give thanks tomorrow.

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.  James 1:17

What are your Thanksgiving plans?

With much love and prayers for you, my friends and family…

That’s not really true, what I really want for Christmas only God can give. But I saw this dining room in the Ballard Designs catalog that comes to our home, and I stopped when I turned to this page and said, “Wow.”

Now I have everything I need and have long been in a place in my life where I’m not in the gathering mood, but in the giving mood. I’m careful about what comes into our home because I value open spaces and organization. I appreciate having no clutter, and most things I like I don’t buy because I don’t need more than I already have.

But if you’ve read my blog for very long you know I love any kind of Scottish plaid. And you know I love toile. Just take a look at the design of my blog and you’ll see the toile. As a matter of fact, just type in the word “toile” in the search field at the left side of my blog and you’ll see a few blog posts with photos of all the ways in which I have loved toile over the years.

And I like black, and I like red, and I like blues and greens. And we have a fireplace in our dining room, so this look would be something we could easily do.

A little green paint on the walls, a little online order for a new black trestle table and some toile and plaid dining room chairs and, voila! this would be our look.

But I’m not going to do it. I only just dreamed about it a little bit. I’m not willing to spend the money on the (I think) pricey chairs and table, because what we have suits us just fine.

Even though I suppose it’s not healthy, I’ve been daydreaming a bit lately. Wondering what it would be like to have this dining room, picturing what a little cottage in the Scottish Highlands would be like, trying to remember what life was like when my husband was strong and healthy and we could have a normal conversation. When we could kneel together and pray for those we loved. And I’ve been trying to recall if I’ve ever been someone easy to live with, and I’m not sure I want to ponder that answer. I sound like a broken record when I say this, but how thankful I am that the Lord promises new mercies for His children every single morning.

Have a blessed Thanksgiving week, my friends!