These are a few more favorites from my at least six shelves of childrens’ books. My younger grandchildren go back to these again and again, especially if they know I’ll read them out loud for them. I do the best I can using different voices and gestures as I read to them. They crack up when I read them this book, especially by the last page when I open my mouth wide, throw back my head and bellow, “Whhhhhaaaaaaaatttt?”  🙂

This is always a hit, and I love this quirky family myself:

And this one is funny and ridiculous:

We love almost all the Jan Brett books — have you seen them? Her illustrations are rich and detailed and can keep me poring over the pages for an hour. My granddaughter Mrs. Nisky wants me to read this again and again, and she likes the way I do the trolls’ voices:

I think this is my favorite of the “If you…” books by Laura Numeroff:

And this older book is something Audrey likes to have read to her repeatedly. She doesn’t understand how someone could swallow the sea or grow legs hundreds of feet long…

And I love this book probably more than the grandchildren. My friend Carole told me about it and it’s profound for adults.  🙂

Have you read any of these books to the little ones in your life?

What are some of your favorite books for young children?

Oh, it feels like fall here this morning. I love it. I had to get up in the middle of the night to close some windows because our top sheet, thermal cotton blanket, quilt, and top blanket we use so the dogs don’t make the quilt dingy weren’t enough to keep us warm. It will be time to turn on the furnace soon, and it was only two days ago that we had the central air on. Years ago when we had to be aware of every dollar, I would try to delay turning on the furnace until the first of October each year, but I rarely made it that late. The final weeks of September almost always turn cold in northern Minnesota, and this year seems like it will do the same.

The dogs are noticing the temperature difference too, because for the first time in months they’ve both wanted to burrow down under the covers at night instead of sleeping on top. They’re our own personal little space heaters. I have no idea how they breathe down there.

Michael and I took our Fosters out to dinner last night and to a movie. We had fabulous Vietnamese food at one of our favorite restaurants, and brought so much home we’ll have it again tonight. Michael had Spicy Beef Cashew, HOT, and I had Spicy Chicken Cashew, mild. And how could we not share an order of Spring Rolls, dipped in tangy fish sauce?

We saw a movie last night that I absolutely loved. You may remember that I like slow, meandering, nuanced, meaningful movies, and this one fit the bill. If you like action and explosions and lots of laughs, Still Mine would not be for you. It was beautifully filmed in rural New Brunswick and I got the itch to become a Canadian about ten minutes into the movie. I’m not sure children should see the movie because of some unexpected and jolting language and one scene of intimacy between husband and wife (not graphic), but please watch the wonderful trailer by clicking here.

When I told my friend Su we were going to see a movie about an older man making all the changes necessary to care for his wife who has dementia, she asked me, “Why would you want to see that?” and I understood what she was saying. She wondered why I would pay to purposely see something that was probably going to be sad. I answered, “Because I want to be encouraged.” I knew from seeing the trailer that the man loves his wife and wants the best for her, and struggles to make adjustments to her disease. Each day Michael and I walk this path of Parkinson’s, I need help. I need help because I don’t like him hovering when I’m getting meals ready, unable to tell me why he’s there. I don’t like him blurting out two-word phrases to me that make no sense, that I’m supposed to interpret and can’t, even after 10 frustrating minutes. I don’t like that we are now couch potatoes since watching television is what we can do together. I don’t like that I have to tell him when and how to brush his teeth. I don’t like that I have to tell him fifty times a day “Take big steps!” because he forgets how to walk correctly, shuffles and almost falls. I don’t like that there’s a walker sitting in our living room, waiting for Michael to change his mind about using it. And do you see? All these “I don’t likes” are a big problem aren’t they? That’s why I need help. I need the Lord to change my attitude every day, sometimes many times a day, so I will whip the selfish-poor-me lenses off my face and put the look-how-blessed-you-are-to-be-able-to-pour-out-love-on-your-husband lenses back on. Sometimes I do look through those latter lenses, and everything comes into focus. How much Jesus loves Michael and wants to show that love through me. How fortunate we are that we work in our home with two remarkable Fosters who are like family. How rich we are to have the history we have, the children and grandchildren we have. How the Lord is a refuge to us and a very present help in trouble. (Psalm 46).

So I loved the movie. It portrayed the frustration the husband Craig had with his wife’s forgetfulness and diminishing personality. We saw him snap at her, feel so remorseful, and lovingly apologize. We saw the fruits of decades of faithfulness. We saw how he realized that this was going to be their road, and all the practical (if not misunderstood and quirky) things he did for Irene to smooth it out for her.

Yes, I cried. And I also felt very encouraged. I want to be like Craig (played by James Cromwell, who was amazing). If you aren’t daunted by a slow, thoughtful and touching movie, you might want to see it!

Changing topics now, lovely little Louisa will be arriving in a few minutes, and I’ll be watching her today. She is walking all over the place at fourteen months, eating up a storm, being a fan of peanut butter, red bell peppers, all pastas and tomato-ey things, laughing easily at her three older siblings’ antics, and reaching for Grandma every time she sees me. I like that just a little bit. 🙂

Here’s a picture of Michael and me, taken last week. He’s still mine. And I’m still his.

And here’s a quote I read recently that applies to the movie we saw last night, to our own situation, and maybe it will apply to something you’re experiencing as well.

Love is not a vat that you fall into randomly. Love is saying I see everything about you, good and bad, and I am still committed to you. ~~ Tim Keller

Yes!

I hope your weekend is blessed, dear family and friends. What are your plans?

Thank you for stopping by here….

I don’t know if it’s because I just had surgery on some bones, but lately I’ve been thinking about bones. That would stand to reason, wouldn’t it? I mean, my right femur will never be the same. My right tibia and fibula are forever changed. And my patella, that little round disc of a bone? Thirteen weeks ago it had a piece attached to it that will never come off.

Lord-willing.

Anyway, for some reason the other day I was thinking about the scapula. You know what that is, don’t you? It’s your shoulder blade, your chicken wing. It’s that place on your upper back that feels so good when someone massages up under the inner muscles that surround it. Most of us have two of them.

Be honest with me now. Have you ever in your life carefully considered your two scapulae? I hope after you read this blog post, you’ll think about your scapulae in a new, awe-filled way. Because when I started thinking about what an amazing bone a scapula is, how odd and astoundingly complex and supremely functional it is, I was filled with awe. I sat there considering my scapulae and I said, “God, I can’t even get over You. You are amazing. You are brilliant. You are so kind! To carefully form such a wonderful bone so we can move our arms and shoulders and paint and hug and wave and stretch and be protected and gesture and swim! Thank you Lord. Thank you! I think the way You made scapulae is so marvelous I can’t think of anything else to say! Except thank you. And Lord, I want you to know I noticed today.”

If you have never seen exactly how the triangular scapula bone sits in a body, click here first before reading on.

Now take a long look at this illustration of the scapula, from three different angles:

Did you see the Glenoid cavity? How about that Acromial process? And the Supraspinous fossa? Wow! Who could design such a wonderful thing, if not God? Whoever knew that a weird looking triangular bone could inspire worship?

If you’re like me, you have a lot of things to think about today, aside from your shoulder blades. Bills, children, Syria, health concerns, troubles aplenty. But I invite you to consider your scapula. Take a moment right now and give thanks to God for thinking up such a bone, and carefully forming it as you grew in your mother all those years ago. Thank Him for the things you’re able to do just because you have two scapulae that help support other more notable bones.

That’s all. I wanted someone to join me in my thanks and awe today.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Every three or four months we take our Schnauzers to The Bad Lady. This is what they call Joyce, the groomer who has bathed and clipped our dogs for years.

Edith and Mildred call her The Bad Lady because she does things to them they don’t love. She pours water all over them and puts stinky smelling shampoo all over their hair (Schnauzers don’t have fur). She stands them up on a grooming table and keeps their chins lifted by a suspended collar so they can’t sit down or jump off. She squeezes them in humiliating places to empty certain glands. She uses a very loud buzzing thing all over their little Schnauzery bodies to take all the warm hair off. She uses a clipper on their nails and it snaps loudly when the bits fly. And she plucks the hair from the insides of their ears. Edith and Millie prefer not to visit The Bad Lady.

But alas, their mama and daddy want them to go. They come back smelling clean and fresh. They always look a little too severe sleek at first, but in a couple of weeks their hair will grow a bit.

When eleven year-old Edith (below) gets too fluffy, we think she looks like the Sesame Street wolf. When she comes back from The Bad Lady, we think she looks a bit alien, and has bat ears. Here are before and after pictures:

And seven year-old Mildred (below) always looks the same, whether fluffy or shaved: disturbed. Millie is our troubled dog, with multiple personality quirks that make her simultaneously hysterical and annoying.

They always zip around jubilantly when we pick them up from The Bad Lady’s house. They’re so thrilled to be home, and they whisper to each other when we’re not looking, “Whew! Now we can relax for another three months!”

Do your pets talk like ours do?

“Today we sing songs that are so dishonest that I sometimes hesitate to sing them. Yet when we sing the average hymn, if God Almighty compelled us to be entirely 100 percent honest, we simply could not sing them because their words would not be true of us…it is only by a charitable adaptation of the truth that we are able to sing most of the hymns we sing.”

– A.W. Tozer, Living As A Christian

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To be perfectly honest, when I read this quote by Aiden Wilson Tozer, I had to admit that I’ve thought the same thing when I’m in church. Singing songs about my devotion to the Lord when my flame is burning pretty low…

Have you ever had similar thoughts?

Early yesterday morning I drove down to Stillwater, MN to see my orthopedic surgeon for probably the last time. Dr. Palmer checked my eleven weeks post-op knee, pronounced me graduated, and wished me well. His assistant Karen gave me his thank-you note, along with a bar of Godiva dark chocolate for the drive home.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes a song gets under my skin and I like to listen to it over and over until I feel ready to be done with it. I hadn’t listened to this Amy Grant CD in years, and I grabbed it right before I left the house yesterday morning. I did listen to the whole CD as I headed south, but the one song I listened to at least twenty times during the five and a half hours I drove, was “Anywhere With Jesus.” Have you heard it? Michael loves this song too, and we used to turn it up loud when we were in the car together, and sing along almost at the top of our lungs. That’s a good memory for me.

I put the lyrics down below so you can follow along as you listen….

Anywhere With Jesus by Jessie B. Pounds (in the 1800s)

Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go
Anywhere He leads me in this world below
Anywhere without Him dearest joys would fade
Anywhere with Jesus I am not afraid

Anywhere, anywhere
Any little fear I’ll never know
Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go

Anywhere with Jesus I am not alone
Other friends will fail me He is still my own
Though His hand may lead me over drearest ways
Anywhere with Jesus is a house of praise

Anywhere, anywhere
Any little fear I’ll never know
Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go

Anywhere with Jesus I can go to sleep
When the dark and shadows ’round about me creep
Knowing I shall waken nevermore to roam
Anywhere with Jesus will be home sweet home

Anywhere, anywhere
Any little fear I’ll never know
Anywhere with Jesus I can safely go
Anywhere with Jesus I can surely go

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I wonder sometimes if I’m the only one who does that. Do you ever want to hear a particular song over and over again? If you can relate, what song has gotten under your skin in that way?

Last Christmas, one of the presents I received from Sara was a gift certificate to the nail salon where she occasionally has her nails done. My fingernails grow quickly and I’m always cutting them, but I decided a couple of weeks ago that eight months was long enough to wait before using my certificate. (The last time I had my nails professionally done was in late 2007.)

Sara told me which nail techs she felt were the best, and I set off one morning for My One Appointment Of The Day. Since my knee replacement surgery, I’ve tried to schedule only one thing each day so I can make resting, icing, elevating and healing a priority. There are actually several days on my calendar that are blank, and those are the days I look toward heaven and say, “Thank you, Lord!” Part hermit, part agoraphobic, I guess.

Anyway, when I arrived at the small nail salon it was packed. There were at least seven people doing nails, and there were five customers before me. Since I had an appointment I only had to wait about 15 minutes, though.

Juan asked me what I wanted done and I told him “a French manicure with gel,” just like Sara recommended. Apparently the gel protects your nail polish from chipping and a manicure can last up to three weeks. Here’s what my nails look like today:

Juan painted the white tips on my fingernails and covered everything with a thick gel, and I like the look! Not too long, not too short, nothing really gaudy. Although I see so many women wear colors on their nails no one wore when I was young! Check out this, and this! I might go have my nails done once again before I fly to Seattle in 22 days for The Second Annual Lupi-Soo Convention, but a manicure isn’t something I would normally fit into my regular schedule or budget, so another six years may pass before I have another one.

If I were to splurge on one thing for myself, I think it would be to have regular massages. I love getting a massage. And I know it’s not just for the pleasure of it anymore — studies show the many benefits of massage and I’m a firm believer in them for mental and physical health reasons. Even just one fifteen minute massage on my knee makes a world of difference. Alas, I don’t splurge on myself much (unless I count the books I buy!), so a professional massage might be on my schedule only once a quarter, if that.

If you could regularly splurge without guilt or concern on one thing for yourself, what would it be? Regular manicures? Weekend getaways? Dining out three times a week? A swimming pool?

I look forward to reading your comments…  🙂

It’s the most beautiful morning in our part of Northeastern Minnesota. We finally turned the central air conditioning off yesterday after a spate of hot, humid days. I glided through the house (glided? well, pretty close) and opened windows and breathed in the drier, cooler air. It actually got down to about 49 degrees last night and it felt delicious in our bedroom being covered with quilts and feeling the hint of autumn blow over us. Today is supposed to be warm, and tomorrow and Sunday are supposed to be oppressively hot and humid, and then I’ll be gliding around again to close the windows and turn on the air.

We’re getting ready to have gas inserts installed in each of our two fireplaces, but before that can be done, some chimney repair and preparation had to be done. The masonry company was here yesterday doing the work, and they’ll finish up today.

Then it will be time to decide which fireplace insert company we want to do the job, and to shop for what the actual faces of the inserts will look like. Perhaps something that looks a little like this. I’ll be sure to post pictures when the project is completed.

We love the sound and smell of a true wood fireplace or stove, but we’re trying to be realistic. Buying, chopping and stacking wood, carrying it in several times a week for a cheery blaze each day in the dining room hearth, and then cleaning out the fireplace, are not something I’m going to add to my plate. We had a gas insert in the first house we ever owned and while we missed that crackle and pop of a wood fire, we loved getting up on a chilly morning and turning on a warm fire with the flick of a switch. It heated the downstairs in minutes and was so economical in the fall and spring when we wanted to warm things up without turning on the furnace for the whole house. So hopefully by the time the snow flies (which can be October) we’ll be enjoying our meals by firelight.

We had such a long winter this year, our hostas are blooming late. They usually bloom in late June. These are in front of our deck, to the right.

And here’s a picture of Mildred Virginia Sizzlelorum, aka Millie, doing her morning sniffing in the front yard.

You can click to enlarge these photos if you like, and if you do you’ll be able to see the three collars the dogs wear when they go outside. The blue one is Millie’s regular collar, with a cute little blue bone tag that gives her name and phone number in case she gets lost. The red one is an electric fence collar to keep the dogs on our property instead of traipsing around the neighborhood as they would be likely to do on their own. If they walk too close to the underground wire around the perimeter of the lot, their dog fence collars go BEEP-BEEP-BEEP loudly and then the dogs back away from where they’ve been. The black collar with the hangy down strip is one of the anti-bark collars we were forced to get when we moved into this house a little over a year ago. If you’ve never seen the “anonymous” note our across-the-street neighbors wrote on the back of a piece of our mail back then, you can click here for a smile or a smirk.

Our scruffy Schnauzers are yippy little things, it’s true. When they see people strolling by, or squirrels trying to finagle the birdseed out of the hanging feeder, or when the postal carrier brings our mail each afternoon, they bark. And bark. And bark. It can be irritating. So to deter them from their outdoor barkiness, we now put horrible black shock collars on them before they go out to potty, to keep them from bothering Burt and Arlene. Thankfully Schnauzers are known to be fairly bright dogs, and Edith and Mildred learned within 24 hours what those black collars were for, and they keep quiet when we put them on. If we don’t put them on they know it, and they run outside and begin to bark almost immediately. 🙁

In knee news, I am now ten weeks post op. I went to my physical therapy appointment yesterday, where I reached a milestone of sorts. ROM (range of motion) is paramount when recovering from knee replacement surgery, and measurements are taken each time I go to PT. Up until yesterday, I’d only been able to straighten my right leg to 12 degrees, 0 degrees (totally flat) being the goal. And I’ve only been able to bend my knee (flexion) to 95 – 100 degrees while holding my mouth open in a silent scream. Yesterday my ROM was 5 degrees and 112. Yay! Improvement. I told my PT Suzanne that I felt like my progress had sped up, from Glacial Speed to Tortoise Speed. We laughed together.

Do you have any weekend plans? Reading? What are you reading? Baking? What will you make? Traveling? Where will you go?

We’ll be at home this weekend, putting on and taking off many different collars on our pooches several times a day. And reading a bit. And giving thanks for being able to do a little straightening, flexing and gliding, considering the knee and all.  🙂

There are times in life when things get so complicated, so difficult, so painful, that we feel paralyzed and can barely put one foot in front of the other. Whenever things get like this in my life, I just want it to stop, NOW. I want relief, YESTERDAY. If my circumstances would allow it, I could easily be the agoraphobic hermit who rarely goes out, who takes to her bed in a fetal position, and whose prayers are reduced to streaming tears and two-word prayers like, “Lord, please.” “Jesus, help!”

But I do go out when I must, and I don’t often take to my bed, because as most of you know, I’m the Chief Plate Spinner here and I have people depending on me. I have whimpering times when I wish someone would just take care of me, and I’ve even been sniveling enough to whisper those words, “When is someone going to take care of me for a change?” Oh brother, even typing that makes me want to gag. But sometimes it’s true.

Yesterday I asked the Lord for a clean slate. I realize that each day is just that already, a new chance to walk with Him, to be cleansed and set out on His path again, to receive the innumerable mercies He lovingly pours out. But I needed to mark the clean slate somehow. So I signed up for a daily reading plan at She Reads Truth, an online movement encouraging believing women to dig into their Bibles each day for the spiritual food and strength and help they need. I know a few people who have been following along with She Reads Truth for a long time, but I had never made the commitment. If you look at the site you’ll see there’s a current plan being followed right now, and there are other plans you can choose from. I chose one on prayer, and have so far loved sitting down these past two mornings after everyone in my household has been cared for, and just baring my tired soul to my Father. Each day there’s a short but meaty devotional, then sections of scripture to read, and then I take notes, writing down the things I feel the Lord is shining a light on. I sit in quiet and in stillness, and I turn my heart and mind to Him, and wait. And I write in my gratitude journal, loving the picture of how I’m passing through His very own gates (“I will enter His gates with Thanksgiving in my heart….”) when I’m being thankful. Today I thanked the Lord that Edith the scruffy Schnauzer jumped up next to me on the chair when I was praying, wanting to be close. I thanked Him for air conditioning on a day when the first heat advisory in years has been issued. I thanked Him for a clean slate and how He doesn’t give clean slates grudgingly.

After I got up out of my comfy black and red plaid overstuffed chair, I asked the Lord to guide my day and help me to do something, anything, that would be pleasing to Him. And when I prayed that prayer, the tears fell. God has everything. He is the source of all the power of the universe and doesn’t need a thing. He has it all — lakes, trees, oceans, the cattle on a thousand hills, the stars, galaxies and beyond. But there is something He doesn’t get as often as He deserves, and that is people who want to bring blessing and pleasure to Him, instead of continually asking that God would bring blessing and pleasure to them. And in that moment I believe the Lord nudged me on how pleasing Him could happen today. Two things came to mind. I have two dear friends who need prayer today, and I have and will be lifting them up to Him all day long. No fancy words, no eloquent discourses will escape from my lips, most likely. But I will pray for them, and keep bringing them to Him, over and over. And the second thing that came to mind was simple and profoundly this, “Be good to each other.” There are many verses in Scripture that say this in one way or another, so this isn’t a new concept.

For me, this could mean giving an extra hug to Michael. It could mean carefully and genuinely listening to someone talk for a long time about things I don’t find interesting. It could mean that when I go to pick up prescriptions today, the person behind the counter might need me somehow to be good to them. What would that mean? I have no idea, but I know God can prod and help me when the time comes. It could mean giving more money than I’m comfortable with to a ministry that serves the poor. It could mean holding my tongue.

For another person, being good to each other might mean that even though her spouse is either driving her crazy or bringing her grief, she can still be good to him. (In no way am I talking about enabling, either.) Or it could mean reading a book to a child when ten other things are calling your name. It could mean turning the computer off. Being good to each other might mean to not roll your eyes when your wife says that again. It could mean saying, “It’s hard for me to say this, but I was wrong. Will you forgive me?” It might mean refusing to speak badly about someone even if we think they deserve it. It could mean blessing someone who’s been mean to you.

I’m on a prayer/goodness adventure today. I’m praying for my friends, and I’m watching to see how the Lord wants me to be good to the people in my life.

How about you? Can you think of how “being good to each other” might look in your life? I would be honored if you would share.

Lord, I ask you to bless every person who takes the time to stop by this humble spot on the web today. Touch their lives, encourage them, make Yourself known to them, set them on the right paths, and save them (and me!) from all that we need saving from….  In Jesus’ name I pray, Amen.

One thing I ask from the Lord,
    this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
    all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the Lord
    and to seek him in his temple.

For in the day of trouble
    he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent
    and set me high upon a rock.

Psalm 27:4-5

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