Like most everyone, our family has sat in front of the television these past few days, tears welling, hearts aching for the people in Newtown, CT.

I wish I knew what to say, not that my words matter at a time like this. I wish I knew how to pray. What I have been praying is, “Jesus, you know what to do. Will you please go to them?”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s poem, set to music and a much-loved Christmas carol, says it better than I can:

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along the unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head;
“There is no peace on earth,” I said,
“For hate is strong, and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men.”

Till ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime, a chant sublime,
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

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(updated from the archives….)

I have no idea if this is true, but I recently heard a well-known financial advisor say on television that she believed America would be facing bread lines in coming years due to the state of our economy. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the last time Americans waited in bread lines was in the late 1920s and early 30s. I refuse to worry about this, because there’s nothing I can do except try to live carefully and generously. My life is in God’s hands, and if part of His plan for me is to someday wait in bread lines, I will.

I think it’s appropriate to give thanks for food while we have it in abundance. We have so much variety and so many delicious things to choose from, and we can easily take for granted what many in our world only dream about.

Have you tried a Honeycrisp apple lately? I paid $1.00 each for them at the grocery store yesterday and didn’t care — they’re wonderful eating. What about fresh, raw pecans? I try to eat some every day. I’m thankful for sharp cheese and tomatoes that are deep red, not pale pink and anemic looking inside. I’m grateful for shredded purple cabbage and warm, fresh-baked bread. I like balsamic vinegar and capers and hazelnuts and pineapple! And what about Haagen-Dazs Chocolate Peanut Butter Ice Cream? You’re missing out if you haven’t scouted that out in the frozen aisle — in our city it sells out fast at every store we frequent, and Michael and I grin stupidly at each other when we go shopping and actually find a pint of it left on the shelf. See the ribbons of peanut butter winding their way through the chocolate?

But even the tastiest food can sometimes be nothing special to look at, as in today’s recipe. My Swiss Muesli is cold, gray and lumpy, but mmmmm is it good.

Apparently Muesli was invented by a Swiss physician for his patients around 1900. I wonder what medicinal qualities he thought Muesli had? There are dry varieties available in cereal boxes these days, but this recipe I’m sharing here is closer to the original, gloppy mixture – it’s made with milk and yogurt and needs to be stored in the refrigerator. I don’t think I’ll take a picture of the Muesli in our fridge right now, because it looks, well, cold, gray and lumpy. It would never hold a candle to the ice cream photo above. But Swiss Muesli is delicious! And nutritious. And it’s filling (my mom would have said, “this sticks to your ribs!”) And if you use good yogurt, it’s probiotic and so good for digestion.

So, if you’re willing to sacrifice visual appeal for delectability, here’s something to try:

Swiss Muesli

1/4 cup honey
1 cup plain yogurt (don’t use flavored or even vanilla yogurt here — with the above honey it will be too sweet — I tried)
1 cup milk (I use 1%, and very often I use unsweetened almond milk)

I stir these three wet ingredients together in a large Tupperware container that has a lid — this is what I store it in.

Next, stir in:

1 cup regular rolled oats
3 T. grated unsweetened coconut (sweetened will work but unsweetened is better)
1/2 t. ground cinnamon
1/4 cup chopped pecans (you can use walnuts too)

This is my adaptation of a recipe I found in a magazine a long time ago, and that recipe also called for 1/4 cup raisins or dried apricots, and 1/4 cup chopped Granny Smith apples, which you might throw in if those sound good to you. (Authentic Muesli has fruit in it along with the nuts and oats.)

I often make a double recipe of this, and after it sits in the lidded container in the fridge for a few hours, the oats soak up all the flavors and it looks like a bland, uninteresting porridge. Sounds blechy, I know, but it’s pretty yummy. Michael and I eat this for breakfast at least three times a week, and we both like a little dollop of peanut butter stirred into our bowls with it.

They say you can’t judge a book by its cover, and I say Swiss Muesli shouldn’t be judged by its moist, gray lumps, either.

En guete!  (Which means “Good eating” in Swiss German! — thank you Helen!)

On Saturday evening and all day Sunday, we finally got the nice big snowstorm we were hoping for, and I thought I’d post a photo of the greenery and large blue and silver ornaments Sara recently arranged in our flower boxes. I was waiting for snow since I thought they would look extra pretty adorned in white.

As weary as we get from our insanely long winters, we Minnesotans love our snow! Today I heard many people talking about how beautiful it is, and how wonderful a white Christmas will be.

I think you can click on the photo above to enlarge it, so you can see the ornaments up close, although the silver ones are hard to pick out.

I guess it’s time to stop talking about the ornaments. People might think I’m obsessed or something.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

A couple of days ago I shared how I’m not really an Outdoor Christmas Decoration Person. I so enjoy looking at everyone else’s lights and reindeer and nativity scenes, but have never decorated outside when Christmas season comes around. I love to decorate inside, though.

For your blog-reading accompaniment, one of my favorite songs to play at Christmas time is called “Orchard House,” from the soundtrack CD to the movie Little Women, and you just have to hear it while you’re scrolling. The whole CD gets deep into my soul. It’s playing in our house right now, as a matter of fact. Click here.

Well, we still don’t have fancy lights or displays outside, but we do have something, and I thought you might like to see! This new house has three good-sized flower boxes on the front of the deck, which is at the front of the house, and if you didn’t see how Sara planted them the week we moved in, you can look here.

Those same flower boxes are just perfect for lots and lots of greenery in the winter, and last weekend Sara filled them up with pine, fir and spruce boughs, twigs and magnolia leaves, and everything just sort of pours over the edges of the boxes and I love them.

I think they’ll look especially nice when a fluffy blanket of snow falls on everything, including the huge dark blue and silver ornaments Sara worked into the arrangements.

It was a damp day, foggy and chill, and the little bit of snow we had was slowly melting. Sara decided to do the arrangements in the driveway where she had lots of space. You can click on the photos to enlarge them if you like.

I waited for a sunny day to take these pictures below, because I hoped you could see the three different finishes on the ornaments: very shiny, sort of cloudy, and glittery.  🙂

The balls are larger than a softball, just smaller than a volleyball…

These are the two planters on the left…I love how wild and (here we go again) asymmetrical they look.

Can’t you just picture how beautiful a blanket of snow will look on the branches and ornaments? If our forecast is correct, we could have 6-10 inches by the end of the weekend!

Because I enjoy alliteration, I almost titled this post Balls and Boughs. Then thought better of it.

And lastly, this greets anyone who comes to the steps that lead to our front door:

God’s blessings on you today, friends and family!

 Louisa (age five months) is saying:

“I can’t wait to see my Grandma Julie again! Just thinking about going to her house puts a skip in my step! I feel like twirling and dancing when she smiles and sings to me! I wonder if she’s thinking about me right now, just like I’m thinking about her!”

It is such a marvelous thing how grandmas can read the thoughts and interpret the expressions of their infant grandchildren!

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If you are a Madeleine L’Engle fan, you know the word play I’m attempting with the title of this post. If you aren’t familiar with her books, you can click here to see where my brain immediately went when I was trying to think up a title for this post about my tibia.

I’ve known for quite a while that the surgical trimming of my right knee’s meniscus (the C-shaped cushion in the joint) about seven years ago was leading to a bit of arthritis. The orthopedic surgeon warned me about it, but my choices at the time were limited:  1) have the surgery so I could resume walking, or 2) leave the impinged, torn meniscus in there and begin life in a wheelchair, or at the very least, life on crutches.

Gradually my right knee has become stiff and swollen, and in the last year it has become so achy that it wakes me up at night. It used to just hurt after a long day of walking and working; now it hurts all the time, even if I’m sitting or lying down. Going up and down stairs is a slow process. I limp a lot now.

I also noticed a few months ago that my right lower leg had started to tilt outward slightly, away from the knee joint. When I’m lying in bed or on the floor and lift both my legs up straight over me, knees together, the left leg is very straight, and the right lower leg tilts out in a deformed manner, so the ankles don’t meet anymore. Bleh.

So I decided recently to make a doctor’s appointment to see what was going on in there. I knew the x-ray would reveal some arthritic changes, but I had no idea that it would reveal a bone-on-bone situation that my doctor calls “severe,” and would call for eventual knee replacement surgery. Gah. I’m 55, so am too young for a total knee replacement. Apparently it’s not a good idea to do a “total knee” on a person my age, because the fake joint usually lasts only 10-15 years, and a second replacement doesn’t always have good results. So putting off a knee replacement until you’re in your sixties or seventies is what’s often recommended.

This is an x-ray of my right knee. You can see that I have plenty of space between my femur (thigh-bone) and tibia (largest calf-bone) on the inside of my leg, but on the outside of my leg, the bones are in there grinding away. That’s exactly where my nice little meniscus was shaved away. And that’s why my lower leg has begun to deform.

Alas, I have a Swiftly Tilting Tibia.

I will begin physical therapy next week, in hopes that strengthening my leg muscles will help. I can tell that my quadriceps are weak in the right leg because I’ve babied that side due to the pain.

I also recently learned that wonderful things are being done with hemi-arthroplasty, which is a partial knee replacement. It’s supposed to be a much easier surgery and might be a good choice for a person my age. Here’s a drawing of what a partial knee replacement looks like compared to a total knee.

Anyway, if you tuned in here today for something deep to ponder, or for a chuckleworthy anecdote about a grandchild, you’re obviously coming up shorthanded. I’m sorry about that, I really am.

Whether or not surgery will be in my immediate future is still uncertain. Heck, I’m still recovering from my wart-ectomy!

One thing at a time, one thing at a time….

When I was growing up, one year my father hung a string of multi-colored Christmas lights on our house in West Covina, California. I loved them. But then for two years afterward, no one took them down. We didn’t light them after the holiday season had passed, but in my memory I can still see those lights hanging there just under the eaves, even during the summer months. I guess my parents became House Blind, you know, when you live with something in your surroundings for so long that you stop seeing it?

Anyway, I’ve never been one to have outdoor Christmas decorations in my yard. We like to drive around each December to see what other people have done and we love to oooh and aaah; they even have a contest in our city and some folks literally fill their yards with every conceivable light, cartoon figure, Santa on the roof, reindeer with slowly bobbing heads, nativity scene, and giant candy cane.

Yesterday I went to my mailbox and found nine catalogs there. It’s that time of year, and I recycle all of them and don’t buy a thing. But in one of the catalogs, there was an outdoor Christmas display that caught my eye. I actually considered it for about a minute, thinking of where in the corner of our yard we could situate it. But then I thought better of it, because I’m not really an Outdoor Christmas Decoration Type Person.

But if I were, here’s what might sit in our yard:

Do you have any Christmas decor in your yard or on the outside of your house? If you’re in my area, I’d love to come see it! If not, I’d love to hear about it. If you send me a picture, I’ll post it here on the blog.

God bless your day. And indeed, peace be unto you….

“If you choose to use your tongue as a sword, your relationships will experience perpetual calamity.

On the other hand, if you choose to put your sword in its sheath (a mark of peace and friendship), pound it into a plow, and begin to till the soil of your relationships, you will reap rich rewards.”

Mary Kassian, Conversation Peace

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Now that the sun is so much lower in the sky, we have light streaming in our windows at the front of our house from 7:00 a.m. until about 4:30 p.m. each day. A person with Seasonal Affective Disorder would find much relief in this place.

Mildred and Edith love it. They believe that our new king-sized bed was purchased just for them, and they take advantage of it at least three times per day. This picture below was taken a couple of days ago when the sun was bright and warming the blankets on the bed. Millie and Edith were just seconds away from their twitchy doggy naps, when their ears, paws and back legs jerk and tremble in their rabbit-chasing dreams.

“I think God will have prepared everything for our perfect happiness. If it takes my dog being there [in Heaven], I believe he/she’ll be there.”

Reverend Billy Graham

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Or, “Breakfast With the SAGs,” but why say “Breakfast With the SAGs” when you can make it sound so much more interesting by saying, “Forenoon Repast With the Droops?”

Several months ago Gail, Pat, Lorna and I got together for our monthly meeting in the morning, instead of for an evening meal as we usually do. I took some pictures then and never shared them with a soul, so thought I would now.

Below on the left is Dr. Gail, the heart of our foursome, a brilliant physical therapist to premature babies, wife of one, mother of three, grandmother of two. Gail loves to read and camp and does some knitting, crocheting and quilting in her spare time. 🙂

Below on the right is Pat, the mitochondrion of the SAGs. She runs a nationally known program that helps victims of domestic violence, and she teaches people, communities and law enforcers how to better deal with this terrible problem. She is the mother of two, and the owner of Doc the big horse and Jasper and Cosette the teeny dogs. Pat loves to read and cycle.

Below to the right is Lorna, the lens of the SAGs. She teaches music to children, was a Kindergarten teacher for several decades :), and loves to quilt, garden and sing. Lorna is wife to one, mother to three, and grandma to seven, and each summer she invites her grands over for the wonderful Grandmommy’s Learning About God School.

Above and to the left is Julie, me, the brain of the SAGs, except my synapses have begun to misfire and I don’t think that title is well-deserved anymore. Maybe I should be the kidney or the liver of the SAGs now, I don’t know. Or the tibia. I am wife to one, mother to three and grandma to eight. I love to read, dream about traveling to the UK and Ireland and Switzerland and Israel and Austria, and am a beginner knitter who prefers this yarn.

All four of the SAGs believe in Jesus, have trusted Him as our Savior and Lord, and know that He is the glue that holds us together, not only as SAGs, but for life in general. Without Him, each of us would have fallen apart long ago.

This Saturday the SAGs will be gathering at a local Japanese restaurant for our November meeting, and to celebrate Gail’s 55th birthday.

Considering the anatomical part that each of us represents, our sushi/tempura/teriyaki dinners will also involve some love (Gail), some cheer (Pat), some clarity (Lorna) and some mindless recitation of useless facts and figures from long ago (me).

I hope that your Thanksgiving was blessed, and that you were given at least one precious memory to carry with you forever.

Thank you so much for stopping by!