Thank you for your comments about all the places you’d like to live. Half of you want to live right where you already are — how blessed it is to feel that way.

Random.org decided that the winner of Beryl Singleton Bissell’s newest book A View of the Lake is Pat!  Yay! I know Pat is an avid reader and loves the outdoors, so she is going to love this book about Beryl and her husband Bill’s move to the North Shore of Lake Superior.

Pat, send me your address and I’ll put your autographed copy of the book in the mail right away.

I am off to pick up my beautiful granddaughter Mrs. Nisky to take her out for a birthday lunch. She was seven years old yesterday. Then we’ll go shopping for the gift of her choice…she already gave me a hint and told me that what she wants is at their neighborhood hardware store..  🙂

Thank you all for reading and commenting on the blog, and have a wonderful weekend,

I’ve done a lot of blathering about moving lately. Before we moved to the house we live in now, I was deathly allergic to moving and never spoke of it. I had put down deep roots at the place we lived before, and I never pictured myself leaving, except feet first.

Well now that our house is up for sale, we might move. If it doesn’t sell, we won’t move. (I ask you, where other than here can you read such profound truths?)   🙂

Other than the Highlands of Scotland, the Swiss Alps and Asheville, North Carolina, the one place I would like to live probably more than any other is the North Shore of Lake Superior. If you’ve ever driven north on Highway 61, I don’t have to explain a thing to you. It’s some of the most gorgeous, pristine, rugged land in the world. And it overlooks the largest freshwater lake, which is so vast it looks like an ocean.

Recently I had the pleasure of having raspberry lemonade on my back deck with a wonderful woman who has an exquisite, almost luminous gift with words — Beryl Singleton Bissell. I first became acquainted with Beryl’s writing several years ago when a friend told me about her book, The Scent of God.  I couldn’t put that book down and I wish I could give apt words to what it’s like — it’s the masterfully crafted memoir of Beryl’s life as a daughter, a nun, an ex-nun, a wife and mother, and the beauty and heartbreak woven through it all. I have purchased that book several times to give as a gift.

I knew Beryl’s new book was coming out soon since I check out her blog regularly, and when it was released I ordered it right away. It’s called A View of the Lake, and I’ll be giving away a copy on the blog this week!

I read the book in two sittings — each chapter is a delightful essay about what it was like for Beryl and her husband Bill to leave their busy lives in the Twin Cities area and move to a house right on the edge of Lake Superior, in the tiny town of Schroeder, MN.

One reviewer said this about the book: “Beryl’s short stories are like glimmering jewels for the mind and soul. She brings her readers into a world where humanity and nature become one. A world so thoroughly magical and melodious that we don’t want to depart once we’ve entered.”

Oh, how true this is. After reading A View of the Lake, I wanted to drop everything and find a house on the North Shore more than ever. I wanted to hike The Superior Hiking Trail, I wanted to retreat and immerse myself in the quietude of North Shore nature, I wanted to take morning swims at Bill and Beryl’s private pebbly beach, I wanted to sit in an Adirondack chair on Bill and Beryl’s private pebbly beach, I wanted their beach to be my own private beach, I wanted to see what it would be like to wake every morning to the splendor of Lake Superior, a stone’s throw away, and the serenity of a slower pace of living on the North Shore.

I don’t think we’ll be moving to Schroeder or Tofte or Lutsen any time soon. But I will pick up Beryl’s book again when I need a little transporting to a quieter way of life.

Take a few minutes to check out Beryl’s site, and I would really encourage you to get a copy of The Scent of God. Also, I have an autographed copy of A View of the Lake by Beryl Singleton Bissell, and I would love to give it away this week. All you have to do is leave a comment here on the blog answering this question: If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live, and why?

Comments will be taken until 10:00 Thursday morning (July 21st), and the winner of A View of the Lake will be randomly chosen and announced then! I promise you will love Beryl’s book, and like me, you will probably end up loving Beryl as well.

Happy reading…

A couple of days ago our real estate agent and friend came over to measure the rooms of our house and sign a contract to place it up for sale. I asked her if I could take the photos and email them to her and she graciously agreed. I have a new camera I’m still learning about and I wanted to take my time and get several pictures of each room. The Multiple Listing Service site used to allow eight photos and they’ve expanded that recently to seventeen, so I took 150 for Stephanie to choose from. 🙂

Whether or not our house will even sell is chancy. The market in our area is very slow, and property prices have fallen at least ten per cent in recent months. We’ve heard of people selling their homes for less than what they bought them for, and actually having to take money to their closing.

It has been a very difficult decision to make. Our house suits us well because we provide adult foster care for three women who live with us. It suits us because our extended family has grown and there’s enough room here for all the daughters and sons-in-law and grandchildren when they visit. It suits us because there’s a third floor guest suite that has enabled us to welcome many cherished friends for the few years we’ve lived here.

But our house is also big. Maybe it wouldn’t seem big to the Queen of England or to Sarah Winchester, but it’s big to me. Many people probably think a big house is a good thing, but I think I’m one of those odd peeps who can appreciate a big, beautiful home without ever really aspiring to live in one. To be completely honest, I never aspired to live in this one. But that is a story for another time.

I want a house that’s easy to clean, not a chore to maintain, a house that nurtures my strong desire to nest and put down roots. I also want a house that’s paid off, if possible. My housing motto is mortgages are not meant to be had, they’re meant to be paid. I know this isn’t possible for everyone, but I must have been affected by my grandparents’ thrifty, depression era-fueled mindset in this area, because there’s something in me that feels it’s almost urgent at this time in our lives to dwell in a smaller home with no (or very little) mortgage.

So we’re hoping that a large family in need of a good-sized home will want to come and live here:

If our house sells, we’ll start looking in earnest for a smaller home. We’ve seen a few places already, but figure with the market as slow as it is, we will wait before really searching for something that meets our changing needs. We need a master bedroom and bath on the main floor, so will probably look at ranch-style homes when the time comes.

But if Michael and I could really have our druthers, we might wish to find ourselves settling down in something like this:

Or this:

Or this:

Aaahhh, can’t you just feel your cortisol levels drop when you look at these photos? I can.

In the meantime, we’ll wait and pray that God will help us in this process, and guide us to just the right place.

I’m glad He knows what He’s doing and where we’re going.

“Know that the love of thyself doth hurt thee more than any thing in the world.”

Thomas à Kempis

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That we are exceedingly messy?  That we need more shoe trees?  That we don’t have enough closets?  That we have seven dozen children in our family?  That we like to go barefoot?  That we have too many adults living in this house?  That we are shoe sculptors?

So I ask you:

What does this picture, taken recently just inside our back door, really say about us?

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Two summers ago a friend of my daughter’s introduced her to a Christian singer/musician I had never heard of — Josh Garrels. Sara shared the music with Michael and me. At first listen I thought his lyrics were thoughtful and deep but wasn’t sure his style was something a middle-aged person like myself would ever truly enjoy. But I was wrong. The more I listened to the music of Josh Garrels, the more I liked it. Now he’s one of my favorite artists, and has been put into the category of “CDs I would immediately buy without first listening to,” because whatever his songs say, I need to hear.

If you’ve never heard of Josh Garrels, there’s a short, informative bio of him here.

His latest album is called “Love & War & the Sea In Between,” and he’s giving it away free. The entire album. As Sara and I were listening to it together the other night she commented after a while, “Who gives their albums away these days?” I think the fact that he isn’t after money and fame speaks something very profound in this age we live in. There aren’t many people who wouldn’t have a go at either if given the chance.

So I’m posting my favorite song (so far) from Josh’s new album. It’s called “Farther Along” and I think everyone needs to hear it. The lyrics make me cry almost every time I listen, and they speak a truth that those going through difficult times could be comforted by.

If you know someone who might like to have Josh Garrels’ new album, you can direct them to www.JoshGarrels.com. It’s downloadable and postable in many forms.

In the meantime, turn up your speakers and follow the lyrics as you listen to this song, which tells us all we can hold on a little longer, that we can help others be of good cheer because we know that the mighty God of love has everything under calm control, no matter how things appear in the world around us or in our own little lives.

Farther Along

(Chorus)
Farther along we’ll know all about it
Farther along we’ll understand why
So cheer up my brothers, live in the sunshine
We’ll understand this, all by and by

Tempted and tried, I wondered why
The good man dies, the bad man thrives
And Jesus cries because He loves ’em both
We’re all castaways in need of rope
Hangin’ on by the last threads of our hope
In a house of mirrors full of smoke
Confusing illusions I’ve seen

Where did I go wrong, I sang along
To every chorus of the song
That the devil wrote like a piper at the gate
Leading mice and men down to their fate
But some will courageously escape
The seductive voice with a heart of faith
While walkin’ that line back home

There’s so much more to life than we’ve been told
It’s full of beauty that will unfold
And shine like you struck gold my wayward son
That dead weight burden weighs a ton
Go down into the river and let it run
And wash away all the things you’ve done
Forgiveness, alright

Chorus

But still I get hard pressed on every side
Between the rock and a compromise
Like truth and a pack of lies fightin’ for my soul
And I’ve got no place left to go
‘Cause I got changed by what I’ve been shown
There’s more glory than the world has known
Keeps me ramblin’ on

Skipping like a calf loosed from its stall
I’m free to love once and for all
And even when I fall I’ll get back up
For the joy that overflows my cup
Heaven filled me with more than enough
Broke down my levees and my bluffs
Let the flood wash me

And one day when the sky rolls back on us
Some rejoice and the others fuss
Cause every knee must bow and tongue confess
That the Son of God He’s forever blessed
His is the kingdom, we’re the guests
So put your voice up to the test
Sing Lord, come soon

Chorus

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Thanks for reading, and have a blessed week…

This morning.

Look closely….in the big maple tree outside my office window (click on the photos to enlarge)…

A little further in…

Now you see him…

Breathtaking!

A reminder to me of God’s faithfulness….

For those of you who have an abundance of cardinals in your area, you might understand why a cardinal in our city, on our block, in our yard, in our maple tree, sitting for a long time right outside our office window, is a big deal. If you know us, you know where we live in MN, and according to this map that shows the habitats of the Northern Cardinal, these beautiful songbirds aren’t even supposed to be in our part of the state. And a little south of us, only one or two birds per acre are usually counted.

Give ear to my words, O LORD, consider my meditation.

Hearken unto the voice of my cry, my King, and my God: for unto thee will I pray.

My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O LORD; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up.

Psalm 5:1-3

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It always helps to look up…

“God is not impressed with religious duty; he is more interested in our spiritual gratitude. The Lord is always looking for the heart that is effusive in expressing thanks for his great mercies.  Even Romans 1:21 warns that God gave sinful man over to his own wickedness because ‘he neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him.’ ”

“Purpose today to pour out your gratitude to God for every small and great mercy.”

Joni Eareckson Tada

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Very early in the morning on June 28, 1981, I was preparing to marry a man I’d spent time with only once.

He was 32 and I was 23. We met because of his Aunt Yvonne, who was my dear friend at Beale Air Force Base in northern California, when I was married to the man who would eventually leave me and our two daughters.

A couple of years later, I got to know Michael through the mail and daily phone calls. After our three-month, long-distance courtship, we were married in a small ceremony at 9:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning, in Los Osos, California. My daughters and I moved from Southern California to start a life with him in northeastern Minnesota, and I’ve felt at home here ever since.

You can see a picture of Michael and me on our wedding day by clicking here.

Here’s what I thought I knew about Michael on June 28, 1981:

He was handsome.
Hardworking.
A devoted Christian who really had a thing for Jesus.
Had nice muscles.
Had kind eyes.
He did not hide that he was crazy about me.

Here’s what I know without a doubt about him on June 28, 2011:

He is still handsome, in his grizzled sort of way.
He still has nice muscles.
His eyes are even more kind, and reflect the true kindness of his heart.
He still has a thing for Jesus, and nothing has dampened that fire. Not the sudden death of loved ones, not unanswered prayer, not the cruelty of Parkinson’s disease. Yes, Michael still has a thing for Jesus, and it is the foundation of our whole life.
His hard work has blessed our family time and time again over the years.
His smile still makes me smile.
He loved this song when he was younger, and still does very disturbing things when he hears it today.
He cries easily.
He is extremely generous.
He’s humble and doesn’t ever boast about himself or want to draw attention to himself.
When he cuts his fingernails he holds his hands up and smiles at me, because we know it’s “Blade Time.” We sit down on the couch and he scratches my legs, back and arms with his “blades,” while I moan and become semi-conscious.  🙂
He loves birds and dogs, and it seems all birds and dogs love him back.
He has never touched another woman in 30 years.
He will never touch another woman as long as we both shall live.
He loves and respects old people.
He thinks everything I cook is delicious, even though that couldn’t possibly be true.
He believes his daughters are the five most stellar women in the world.
He chooses to think the best about every person.
Whenever his wife feels like she’s losing her grip, he steadies her.
He doesn’t care for poetry.
He experienced and survived things in war that would have ruined other men.
He can’t dance.
He doesn’t ever tell people what to do.
He knows and loves flowers, and enjoys receiving bouquets.
He loves a Culver’s Butterburger at least once a month.
He’s always willing to do something goofy, and can poke fun at himself.
He loves India and Israel, and has been to neither place.
Whenever we learn of a need, he’s quick to take my hand so we can pray together.
He always forgives, and quickly.
He never forgets the blessed forgiveness of Jesus.
He still sings and points at me when we hear this song.
In his heart, he still likes to build things.
He does not hide that he’s still crazy about me after thirty years (I will never get over this one.)

When I wished him a happy anniversary this morning and teased that he was married to an old bag, he smiled and hugged me and said, “I love everything about this old bag.”

And we laughed together.

After thirty difficult, wondrous, faithful, boring, exhilarating, surprising, predictable, blessed, miraculous years….we still laugh together.

Happy Anniversary Michael!

Have I told you lately that I love you?

I’ve had some requests for my “recipe” for the made-up concoction that calls to me in my bed each morning. “Juuuu-lie…..ooohhhh JUUUU-lieeeee….time to get up….I’m waiting for you!”

So every morning I sit up in bed at an hour that is too indecent to mention here, and put on my Acorn slippers. Then I put on my glasses and head downstairs, leaving Michael, Edith and Mildred still snoozing in the dark.

If you ever wanted to make yourself a Cappuccino Cooler, here are a few things you might want to do.

1. Choose your cup. This is important. I like drinking from a cup that actually feels right in my hand and is interesting to look at. If you happen to have a lot of cups to choose from, you might go through a process of elimination like I do sometimes.

I stand back a few seconds and scan the shelves in our kitchen that hold our blue and white cup and mug collection. If you don’t have shelves that hold your cups, you could just open the kitchen cabinet or the dishwasher door, stand back, and do a quick scan of what you have available.

On any given morning I might ask myself, “Should I choose this cup today?”

“The one that Lorna brought back for me from Mexico? Hmmmm….or should I choose this cup?”

“The cup one of my daughters gave me over twenty years ago?”

“Or maybe today I’ll have my Cappuccino Cooler in this one…”

“Then again maybe not. It’s delicate and lovely, but would only hold 1/4 cup of my concoction and I think I’d like a full cup this morning.”

You get the picture — I’m having a conversation with myself and it’s a good way to start the day. But not as good a way to start the day as having a conversation with Jesus. I really recommend talking to Him before you talk to yourself. Not kidding.

I might look at this little cup and consider it momentarily — it’s one my friend Lorna brought back to me from her trip to Israel:

But it doesn’t hold much liquid either — this pretty cup would be better for an espresso. Then I might look at this one — it’s certainly big enough:

But I usually don’t drink out of this large mug. Carolyn made it for me in her high school ceramics class and I’ve always cherished it. But it’s not dishwasher safe so has only been rinsed now and then. There’s a fine, oily layer of dust in the bottom of this one so it doesn’t make the cut.

What about this one? It’s a relatively new gift from my friend Carole who lives in the Chicago area. She came to visit recently and gave me this as a hostess gift. I love it.

Yes, this is the one I chose this morning and have liked drinking from lately.

If you really wanted to have the ultimate Cappuccino Cooler drinking experience, try matching your cup to a beautifully decorated room in your home, like this one. Or you could redecorate your whole kitchen to match your favorite cup. I believe with all my heart that if I were drinking my morning Cappuccino Coolers in that room, I would be a better, more genteel sort of woman. Refined, optimistic, and serene — those would be the words you would use to describe me.

But look at that hand. Does that look like the hand of a refined and genteel woman? No. The red and crepey skin betrays me! The blue and bulging veins tell my tales! Now everyone knows I’ve been breaking my back picking cotton doing paperwork and folding laundry and mismanaging Schnauzers. Well, fiddle-dee-dee, I guess I’ll think about that tomorrow.

Now, back to cappuccino creating. This next step you might want to skip, because it takes a little time.

2. Frost your cup. After choosing your cup, put it on top of some ice cubes in your freezer. (But don’t sit it on top of the cool pack from Walgreen’s that your husband uses on his newly replaced shoulder.)

After putting your beautiful cup in the freezer, you can attend to a few morning chores, like I do. I make hot coffee for others in the house, set up medications for those who take them, make lunches, see if any new words have been played in Words With Friends on my iPad, dial up insulin for those who need it, get things ready for the different breakfasts everyone has…that kind of thing.

If you don’t have all this to do when you get up in the morning, then don’t put your cup in the freezer before you make your Cappuccino Cooler. But if you do, it will be frosty and delicious and will seem like something special.

3. Gather your ingredients. There are only four! This is an easy recipe.

If you don’t like hazelnut flavored creamer what the heck is the matter with you you can use any flavor you like. My niece Savannah prefers vanilla so when she visited us at Thanksgiving time, I made her a Cappuccino Cooler with vanilla creamer instead.

4.  Begin with instant coffee. Next, spoon one teaspoon of instant coffee (Maxwell House is smoother tasting, Folger’s instant coffee has that bitter taste many coffee drinkers like) into your beautiful, carefully chosen cup:

5.  Add the chocolate. Put in a few squeezes of Hershey’s Chocolate syrup on top of the coffee granules:

6. Add the creamer. Then add a few splashes of hazelnut (or your favorite flavored) creamer. I would guesstimate that I pour in between 2-3 tablespoons into the coffee/chocolate mixture:

7. Stir. Now just stir this all together until you get a thick dark slurry.  My computer dictionary defines slurry in this way:

“A semi-liquid mixture, typically of fine particles of manure, cement, or coal suspended in water.”

Obviously this slurry is a step above that slurry. Here’s what ours looks like:

Just stir for several seconds until the instant coffee granules dissolve in the other ingredients.

8. Pour the milk. Pour it just to the top of the cup. I use 1% but if you wanted a dessert-like coffee drink you could use whole milk. Very rich and creamy….

9. Taste and adjust. Stir some more, and then take a taste-test:

If it’s not chocolatey enough for you, add another squeeze of Hershey’s syrup. If you want a stronger coffee flavor, add some more granules. Too strong? Add milk. Make it your own. Even though the recipe is called Julie’s Cappuccino Cooler, I’ll step aside and let you call it Belinda’s Cappuccino Cooler or Juan’s Cappuccino Cooler or Taneeka’s Cappuccino Cooler if you like. Whatever your name is, whatever you want to call this concoction, go right ahead and do it. I can share.

10.  Enjoy. Finally, stand in the middle of your kitchen in your Acorn slippers, lift the (hopefully frosty) cup to your lips, take a dainty sip and say, “Mmmmmm…”

Someday I hope to stop drinking my Cappuccino Coolers. They’re just too yummy. I think when a person reaches the age of 53, a gradual decrease in yumminess should be already occurring in their life.

Let me know if you try your own concoction…what flavor creamer did you use? Did you do everything I’ve instructed you to do? Did you chill your pretty cup? Did you stir well until a slurry was achieved? Did you stand and say “Mmmmm?” Did you drink it in the room in your house that matches your cup? I want to know.

Enjoy, and have a wonderful day!