Saturday, May 19, 2012

Little Lesson: Reflections (REPRINT 2003)

I was driving past the lake, admiring the reflection of the trees against the water and the sparkle of the sun on the snow.  It looked so beautiful, but at times I had to turn my head away because the sun bouncing off of the scenery blinded me.  The light was so bright that it actually hurt, and it took my focus off of the road ahead.  Fearing that I'd end up in the ditch, I was forced to search for that yellow line in front of me.

Reflections in life can put us in a ditch, too.  Not in the same way that the sun bounces off of the water droplets and blinds our eyes,  but by looking back and contemplating the images of the past.   Looking back once in a while to enjoy a pleasant memory, or maybe to draw on past experiences to prevent future mistakes, is a good thing.  Other times,  it becomes dangerous and even painful.   We're designed for forward motion.   Moving forward, whether walking, running or driving,  becomes very complicated, even injurious,  if your eyes are focused behind you.   God intends for us to keep moving ahead, with our eyes trained on that path that He has for our lives.  We are not to dwell on what's behind us, on those "reflections" of years past.  They tend to mire us in self-pity, bogged down by a lot of "what if's" and "if only's".  They hold our feet fast, and prevent us from doing what God has called us to do for fear of adding to our list of failures.  It's time to turn around.  The past is the past, and today is a new day.  

Praying that today you will see the beauty of your life as it reflects the light of Christ, and that you can find peace in the releasing of those painful reflections.  That you will be able to forget what is behind, and strain toward what is ahead, as you press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called you heavenward in Christ Jesus.  Philippians 3:13-14 (paraphrased)  

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Little Lesson: On Angel's Wings

There's something about the death of someone young that causes us all to stop and ponder our humanity.  As much as we realize that we have a beginning and an end, we feel certain that we won't meet that end. At least, not for a long while.  Then, the years creep by, and we feel proud to have cheated death for so long.  We become overly confident, immortal.  We focus ahead, afraid to turn to either side for fear of what we might see.    At times, we are successful, but that success is quickly replaced by mourning when we catch a glimpse of the end.  Who allowed this turning to the last chapter of the book? Who gave permission for the last Act?

To the mourning family and friends, there are no words of comfort big enough to fill the empty space.  There aren't any pearls of wisdom that will take away the pain.  It is as if they have become trapped in a soap bubble, fragile and floating along with the breeze.  From high above, they see others going on with life, when at any moment they feel they will burst and fly away on the wind.

It is at times like these, that I am reminded about the compassion of our God.  I see, in my mind's eye, Him reaching down and scooping up the hurting, drawing them close, ever so gently.  He is so cautious with how He carries them, that they hardly know He's there. While they cry, their tears pool in His hands.  While they grieve, He folds His hands closed and shelters them, and when they howl from the very depths of their being, He carries them and speaks quiet words of encouragement that only their hearts can hear.

"...those who mourn are lifted to safety"  Job 5:11

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."  Matthew 5:4

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-4:  " There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: 2 a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, 3 a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, 4 a time to weep, and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance."

Friday, April 27, 2012

Little Lesson: Living in the Dead Zone

You know that big 4G Cell Network they are always bragging about on TV? We don't belong to that. We live in what's known as the "patchy network" where we get maybe 1/4 of the 4Gs.  We cope, and then we pray that the car won't break down in any of the dead zones.  I remember when we didn't have to worry about any zones at all. We weren't allowed to leave the house without a quarter for the pay phone, "just in case". Or if there was no pay phone, the second option was to knock on the closest door. BUT, for safety's sake you never went inside in case psychokillers lived there. Then, cell phones came along, and phone booths went away, and the dead zone was born.

Since the "era of the teen with a phone" has begun, daughter has informed me that at school there are only two places where you can find a signal. One is on top of the teacher's desk (and I wonder who figured that one out), and the other is at the base of the cross in the chapel.  So, if your battery is getting weak searching for a signal, you go to the cross.

Isn't that the truth in life, too? There are so many times we walk through that are dark and silent, when our battery gets drained trying to find that connection that seems to have disappeared.  We know what we need is out there somewhere, but we can't seem to locate it.  It's not until we reach the foot of the cross that we realize that that is where we will find a steady, unfailing connection.

 2 Corinthians 12:9 But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

"I Go To the Rock"

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Little Lesson: Book Covers

I like to look at old architecture. I especially like the brick work of some of the buildings from the late 1800s/early 1900s.  I happened to be gazing at the front of a big downtown structure, happily admiring brick patterns, when I glanced up at the roof. There, proudly growing from the top of the three-story building, stood a little tree. Not like a potted plant, a real tree. Since there aren't many of those downtown, I imagine that seed traveled a distance before it found itself deposited in years of dust and debris on the rooftop.  There, high above the sidewalks, it got lots of sun and rain with very little worry. Nobody was up there to trample on it except the pigeons.

Now, if I was planting seeds, I don't think "plant it on the roof" would even be on my list of things to do.  A 100 year old roof doesn't look like much.  One hundred years of pigeon poop on top of decaying shingles? No thanks.

Well, what's to learn from a little tree way up high?  One little seed landed in a place that none of us would have thought of planting.  A place out of the reach of most, covered with many years worth of debris. A place most of us would consider highly undesirable for planting, and out of that place came forth new life.

We have been sent out to plant seeds, and it's so easy to overlook some people, the ones who are about as desirable as that dropping-covered rooftop.  They've got long histories filled with messes and heaps of broken shingles, and they seem to be rotting out from underneath.  Nothing is going to grow there. Let's move on. We forget that " The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."  1 Samuel 16   

Mark 4:3 "Listen! A farmer went out to sow his seed. 4 As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. 5 Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. 6 But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. 7 Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants, so that they did not bear grain. 8 Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up, grew and produced a crop, multiplying thirty, sixty, or even a hundred times." 9 Then Jesus said, "He who has ears to hear, let him hear." 10 When he was alone, the Twelve and the others around him asked him about the parables. 11 He told them, "The secret of the kingdom of God has been given to you. But to those on the outside everything is said in parables 12 so that, " 'they may be ever seeing but never perceiving, and ever hearing but never understanding; otherwise they might turn and be forgiven!' " 13 Then Jesus said to them, "Don't you understand this parable? How then will you understand any parable? 14 The farmer sows the word. 15 Some people are like seed along the path, where the word is sown. As soon as they hear it, Satan comes and takes away the word that was sown in them. 16 Others, like seed sown on rocky places, hear the word and at once receive it with joy. 17 But since they have no root, they last only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, they quickly fall away. 18Still others, like seed sown among thorns, hear the word; 19 but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth and the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful. 20 Others, like seed sown on good soil, hear the word, accept it, and produce a crop--thirty, sixty or even a hundred times what was sown."

Jesus doesn't ask us to decide the soil type before we plant the seeds. He only asks us to plant them. 

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Little Lesson: Board Games

 "It won't do for us to just sit around in our sanctuaries, entertain ourselves, sing our 'happy clappies' and feel good about ourselves," Chuck Colson once said. "This is a time for the church to engage the world...."

I remember when board games came in real boxes. Yes, I'm that old.  Board game boxes were sturdy, not like the ones now. The ones now seem to be made of some kind of starched paper.  It's not much fun when you pull the game out of the closet and the side falls out, spilling little pieces on the floor.  They tend to roll far away, and get stuck under the furniture and in the shag of the rug.

Board games came with rules. I don't remember them being in three languages when we played as kids, but then we didn't read them much anyway. We made up our own rules, depending on how much time we had until supper and how badly we wanted to win.  So, I grew up accustomed to those sturdy boxes, where everything stayed in it's place, neat and tidy.

Churches tend to be a little bit like those games.  All neat and tidy in their boxes, with really sturdy walls.

Not too long ago, some churches set up in school and other community buildings were threatened with eviction.  The church people sued, and as far as I know, they are still sitting in folding chairs right where they started.  Victory? No, I don't think so.

As much as I hate those new-fangled "not really cardboard" boxes, I believe we as the church might just need one of them.  We need the wall to fall out, so that we spill out all over. We'll get forced to roll under the couch, and blend into the shag rug.  It's dark under the couch, and I'll bet there's some stuff under there I would rather not see. And the shag rug, it might swallow us up whole, and we'll get all tangled up in the fibers. What a mess. And the dirt, and the smell, well some of us don't want any part of that.  Could someone please get some tape out and fix the wall?

When Jesus walked this earth, He didn't pen in His people. In fact, he sent them out.  And they went to people and places that were way far out of the "coffee and fellowship meal" crowd.   Imagine for a minute those churches who were temporarily "evicted". What could those hundreds of people have accomplished in their home towns on a Sunday OUTSIDE THE BOX?

Acts 9:36 At Joppa there was a certain disciple named Tabitha, which is translated Dorcas. This woman was full of good works and charitable deeds which she did. 37 But it happened in those days that she became sick and died. When they had washed her, they laid her in an upper room. 38 And since Lydda was near Joppa, and the disciples had heard that Peter was there, they sent two men to him, imploring him not to delay in coming to them. 39 Then Peter arose and went with them. When he had come, they brought him to the upper room. And all the widows stood by him weeping, showing the tunics and garments which Dorcas had made while she was with them. 40 But Peter put them all out, and knelt down and prayed. And turning to the body he said, "Tabitha, arise." And she opened her eyes, and when she saw Peter she sat up. 41 Then he gave her his hand and lifted her up; and when he had called the saints and widows, he presented her alive. 

There are so many people out there who are dead spiritually, just like Tabitha was dead physically. In order to make her well, Peter knelt down and prayed, then gave her his hand and lifted her up.  We can do the same for our "dead".  We can storm the walls, get down on their level, pray, and be the hands to lift our neighbors up and present them alive to Christ. 

Saturday, April 21, 2012

Little Lesson: Homesick

“If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.” --C.S. Lewis

There are some days I wake up longing for Home.  Not this home.  Not the sunny sky this morning.  Not my warm bed.  Home.  With my Creator.  In Eternity. 

 I look back on those days when I was a child, and I packed up my things and boldly set out to "sleep over" at a friend's.   What an adventure.  I was going out on my own.  We would spend the day playing outdoors, seemingly unsupervised (since we never managed to glance up at that parent at the window).  We felt very much like some sort of elementary school rebels, running free with no one to tell us what to do.  Up past bedtime,  eating hot dogs and brownies in the dark.  Then, exhausted, we would crawl into sleeping bags or a blanket tent, and there in the night,  in someone else's house,  I would lay crying for home.   How could that be?  I was having so much fun!  But,  I realized in that darkness, there was no one in the other room who knew me as their own,  no one to rescue me when I cried.  That "separateness" that I thought I wanted so badly left a canyon between me and where I would rather be.  It is the same in this life. Though I realize that I am cared for and loved here, there is no one here who knows me as well as the One in Whose Home I belong.  

There are those who would argue that there is no life after this one. That there is no God, and there is no Heaven or Hell.  That there is only here, and then the grave.  I find that to be such a sad existence.  Such a lonely existence,  separate from the loving God who spent time knitting us in our mother's wombs.  He who knows the number of hairs on our heads,  our most intimate thoughts, and Who waits for us to come back to Him, much the same as my parents waited for me to come back from those sleepovers.   Wishing me to be separate to become who I was created to be, yet waiting patiently for me to return.  Watching at the window for me to come back up the driveway.  My Father who is waiting to see my feet walk up that street of gold.  He is waiting for you, too. 

John 14:2 "In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going to prepare a place for you.  3 And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am." 

2 Corinthians 5:1-8  "1 For we know that when this earthly tent we live in is taken down -- when we die and leave these bodies -- we will have a home in heaven, an eternal body made for us by God himself and not by human hands. 2 We grow weary in our present bodies, and we long for the day when we will put on our heavenly bodies like new clothing. 3 For we will not be spirits without bodies, but we will put on new heavenly bodies. 4 Our dying bodies make us groan and sigh, but it's not that we want to die and have no bodies at all. We want to slip into our new bodies so that these dying bodies will be swallowed up by everlasting life. 5 God himself has prepared us for this, and as a guarantee he has given us his Holy Spirit. 6 So we are always confident, even though we know that as long as we live in these bodies we are not at home with the Lord. 7 That is why we live by believing and not by seeing. 8 Yes, we are fully confident, and we would rather be away from these bodies, for then we will be at home with the Lord."

An oldie but a goodie...Petra "Not of This World"

Praying today that you will find your way Home.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Chocolate At Midnight

I'm up at 1 a.m. writing a blog post. That makes me either someone with a perimenopausal sleep disorder, or a savvy country blogger who knows that the internet connection is not as slow when everyone else in the county is asleep. 

What a day today. Well, actually that would be yesterday, as today only began an hour ago, and I haven't done anything blogger-worthy yet. Unless you count those three Godiva chocolates I ate half an hour ago.  Hence, the really cool title to today's blog, "Chocolate At Midnight".  Doesn't that sound like the next bestseller, or maybe a million-dollar first-night showing at the theater? It has absolutely nothing else to do with anything.

Anyway, back to my day yesterday.  I woke up (and that in itself always amazes me), sipped my coffee while listening to the dog snore, and planned out every hour of the day ahead. When I plan my day ahead, I always emerge as the hero at the end of the day.  Sparkling house, happy family, even a smiling dog.  It never quite goes the way I planned it, ever, but I found out not too long ago that you can buy "Happy Family" at the Chinese restaurant for $8.99.  So, if the house doesn't sparkle, I can't fix that, but I can make the family happy for under ten bucks, in "ten minute" if I call ahead.

After draining my coffee, I took out the dog (who was NOT smiling), and headed out for a walk around the block with my neighbor. Hi, neighbor! A walk around the block here is four miles, uphill both ways.  Seriously.  I could yodel from the top of those hills if I wasn't always gasping for breath when I got up there.

Upon our valiant return to the front door, we made plans to test out our new MUCK boots. In order to play in your muck boots, you must find some muck. Neighbor returned with her four-wheeler a.k.a. "quad", a.k.a "I've never been on one of these before, are you sure it's safe?".  We definitely did not look like we knew what we were doing as we loaded our buckets and shovels into the wagon on the back for our brief trip across the pasture in search of quality manure. We would just about get up to that "wind whipping my hair" speed, when we'd have to stop and get out and go retrieve one or more buckets or shovels that had vibrated their way out of the back.   Once we finally arrived, we spent some time shoveling horse flops for the garden, and felt very proud that we had actually used our MUCK boots in some muck.

To top off my very rural day, I headed to Tractor Supply.  I had grand plans to add guinea hens to the lawn, but unfortunately they didn't have any left.  Instead, I did the next best thing. I checked out the clearance racks. After wandering through the clothes department, I went all over the store aimlessly perusing end caps and sale bins. Every time I stopped, I felt like someone kicked me in the back of the leg.  I would look around, and a couple times I brushed at the back of my pants thinking something was there.  It wasn't until I'd completed the circuit of the store, saying hello to people everywhere like a good neighbor, that I realized a couple of shirts on hangers had caught on my new "weave" purse.  For half an hour, I had been merrily greeting people with two plaid shirts dangling behind me.  Classy. 

I'm going to go back to bed now.  Thank you to my rural neighbors for a fun day of walking, and four-wheeling, and mucking, and shopping.  I'm still spitting horse-manure grit from my teeth, and I'll never be able to walk into Tractor Supply ever again, but I landed the starring role in "Chocolate At Midnight", so all is well as another day ends and begins on the hill.

Sunday, April 8, 2012

Little Lesson: The Empty Easter Basket

After much frustration trying to find window clings that depicted Easter as something other than bunnies and eggs, I decided to make my own Easter story out of the ones that I COULD find. (by the way, you can find Christ-centered Easter decorations at the Christian bookstore, but it's sad to think the true meaning of Easter is now hidden away in a specialty shop somewhere)

Empty Easter Basket:  What our lives are like without Jesus.
Easter Lilies:  Lilies remind  us of death, Jesus' death on the cross.
Egg:  A symbol of new life, the new life Jesus gave to us through His death on the cross.
Pastels:  The colors of the sunrise on the morning He rose from the grave!
Tulips/Hyacinths/Daffodils:  From those dead and ugly bulbs come beautiful flowers. Jesus died on the cross and made a way for us to go from ugly bulb to beautiful flower.
Candy:  How sweet salvation is, how wonderful to have our baskets full instead of empty.
Bunny:  Bunnies multiply. The message of Easter is not meant to be hidden, it's meant to be shared so that the number entering the kingdom of God will multiply!

Take your empty Easter basket to the tomb today, crouch down and peek inside. He is risen, and He will gladly come and replace that disappointingly empty basket with His sweet salvation if you just ask. Bury the ugly bulb you once were at the foot of the cross, and He will bring you back out of the dirt and make you a beautiful flower. Happy Easter!

Friday, April 6, 2012

LIttle Lesson: A Drive In The Country, Not A Picnic In The Park

In honor of it being Easter weekend, I'm resurrecting some Little Lessons. This "blast from the past" was written November 2003.

The only day of the week that I get a break from driving is Sunday morning when husband takes the wheel.  That's fine with me. I like to look at the scenery, and that's kind of difficult when you're concentrating on staying on the road and not hitting any deer. As we drove along, husband was looking for wildlife and I was admiring the homes along the way. Daughter was sitting in the back seat singing "don't build your house on the sandy land". We passed one house that was beautifully restored. It had obviously been done by someone with some time and money to invest. I glanced up at it, admiring the new siding and windows, the fancy front door, but what really caught my eye was the foundation. It was crumbling. In some places, pieces of the stone lay in heaps on the ground.

What happened with this restoration? Crumbling at it's most important point? It looked beautiful, but it was teetering on the brink of disaster.  As I was listening to CB sing in the back seat, the song had a lot more meaning. "Don't build your house on the sandy land, don't build it too near the shore. Cause it might be kinda nice, but you'll have to build it twice, oh you'll have to build your house once more. You'd better build your house upon the rock, with a sure foundation in a solid spot. The storms may come and go, but the peace of God you will know." I'm not sure if I got all of the words right, but you get the idea. We sing about it, but do we really understand it?

Jesus is the rock. He gave His life on the cross so that we could build OUR lives on a solid foundation. He restores us from the inside out. BUT, what happens when we take the restoration out of His hands and start doing our own thing?  What happens when we skip the offer of a solid foundation to go ahead and build our lives on something else? All of a sudden, what we thought was going to be a beautiful finished piece begins to crumble. All that we had built on our own starts to fall down. Then we cry, and we complain, and we rant against God. "If there was a God, this wouldn't be happening to me.". There is a God, and IT happens because life is that way, but your "house" would have withstood the storm a whole lot better if it had been built on the Rock, instead of on the sand.   While you've been "building your life", Jesus has been sitting over on a bench watching you work. His tools are there on the bench with Him, but He doesn't want to intrude. He wants to be invited in. He's waiting for you to figure out that that blueprint you laid out for your life stinks.

Ohhh. Little light bulb goes on. "Hey, Jesus, didn't I hear something about You being a master builder? A friend told me all I have to do is ask you to come in, and you'll help me with this mess that I've made."  And Jesus gets up off of that bench, grabs his tool box, and comes over to you. He gives you a hug, and with a sparkle in His eyes, He lays a blueprint out on your table. Your jaw drops. "Is this what we're building? Wow. That's way better than I could ever imagine!" And you know that sandy foundation you were building on before? It's been replaced with solid rock.

Handing your life over to God is similar to my handing my keys over to my husband on that Sunday drive. It gives you a totally different perspective on life. He didn't die for Himself, He died for YOU. Invite Him in. He's been waiting to hear from You. 

Psalm 18: 2 The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the strength of my salvation, and my stronghold. 3 I will call on the LORD, who is worthy of praise, for he saves me from my enemies. 4 The ropes of death surrounded me; the floods of destruction swept over me. 5 The grave wrapped its ropes around me; death itself stared me in the face. 6 But in my distress I cried out to the LORD; yes, I prayed to my God for help. He heard me from his sanctuary; my cry reached his ears.
Psalm 18: 31 For who is God except the LORD. Who but our God is a solid rock?

Monday, April 2, 2012

Little Lesson: The Grass Is Always Greener

I just finished a really great book from a debut novelist, Katie Ganshert, called "Wildflowers From Winter".  Katie is asking her blog followers to write a story about how God has used a difficult situation in their lives to bring about good, to bring about those "Wildflowers From Winter". If you would like to know more about her book, you can read and rate my Blogging For Books review of "Wildflowers From Winter" at:

You can visit Katie's book page at

This is a reprint of a Little Lesson I wrote almost two years ago:

"The Grass Is Always Greener...Life Lessons from the Dog"

Shadow is on the back porch whining and looking at me with imploring eyes. He's on the porch because it's pouring, and I didn't want him to be soaked all day out in the yard. Still, he pulls at the chain and stands in the rain pining for his doghouse in the puddle. It would be amusing if I didn't see myself in his pining eyes. The many times God has moved me to higher ground, to a place where I'd be safe and warm and dry, only to have me pulling against the chain. Send me back to that muddy puddle, it's familiar ground. I know I'll be wet, but hey, I've been that way before and I can deal with it. This new turf you've put me on, well it doesn't feel like home, so thanks, but just send me back over there to muddle in my puddle and I'll be happy.
This is nothing new for us as humans is it? Always looking for comfortable ground, never really seeing the rain as a good thing, but instead looking for a way to return to that former "dry ground"?

I am constantly drawn back in time where I spend a few moments walking with the Israelites in the desert. I try to picture myself with them, a slave, playing in the mud on a daily basis making bricks. God freed them, and took them to new ground, but they saw that desert through human eyes. Suffering, heat, lack of food and water. What they couldn't see was God in their midst. Not even with a parting of the sea, pillars of cloud and of fire, manna, water from rocks. Exodus 16:3 "The Israelites said to them, If only we had died by the LORD's hand in Egypt. There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death."  They pined for their doghouses in the muddy puddle.

So, where are you today? Where am I? Will I accept the situation God has placed me in and know that His ways are higher than mine? Will I recognize that He's moved me to someplace better, whether I understand it or not? Will I "dwell in the shelter of the Most High and rest in the shadow of the Almighty? Will I say of the Lord "He is my refuge and my fortress. My God, in whom I trust?" Will you? Or will you continue to strain at the chain, focused on the past instead of trusting that the "porch" you're on might just be for your own good?

Psalms 91:1, 2 NIV paraphrased
Read the whole psalm and make it your own today :)

For more "Little Lessons from Life", see the right bar and look for posts marked "Little Lesson"

(comments are moderated, so they won't appear right away, but I love your feedback!)

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Winter Blah Blah Blahs

Daughter has informed me that I stink at blogging since it's been six months since I wrote anything. I beg to differ, I write on Facebook I also write shopping lists, notes for the family that say things like "there's dinner in the crockpot and your sports socks are on the line", and reminders to myself. So there.
Besides, it's been Winter in the pasture. Winter starts in September and ends on Memorial Day here, and there's only so much you can do when you're surrounded by snow or mud and you only get six channels. There's been absolutely nothing mind-boggling or audience-worthy, I assure you.

My main source of amusement is online shopping. I have so many cardboard boxes from deliveries that I'm now flattening them and using them as mulch in the garden. Even after that, I'll have enough to build a cardboard house, a cardboard car, and maybe even a cardboard dog (which would be great, because it wouldn't poop and I wouldn't have to feed it).  The UPS man doesn't even need to beep any more. We all recognize the sound of his truck coming down the road, and then we sprint across the floor to the front door. First person to the box gets to rip it to shreds to get to what's inside. Never mind that I already looked at it from several different angles, and spent an hour comparing prices or looking at different colors of said purchase, it still feels like Christmas. It also gives us a few seconds of fresh air, after which we scurry back inside squealing "cold feet, cold feet", and all stand in front of the woodstove.

Other Winter entertainment consists of stalking free-range hens to find their eggs, walking to and from the mailbox, and driving to work.  I told you it wasn't very exciting.

The good news is Spring has come early. Or at least it was Spring for about 5 days, long enough for me to plant all of my "cool-weather" vegetables like peas and onions, and then it got cold again.  I don't understand why the weeds don't die when it gets cold. The weeds are flourishing and all of my Daikon radishes are dead. Funny, I thought radishes were cool-weather, but I guess the ones from Japan don't like the snow. Poor little Japanese radish babies.  I don't know how to mourn appropriately for Asian plants, and I wouldn't want to offend anyone, so I just sprinkled a little dirt on them and said a few words. Actually, they weren't words that were very nice, so I won't repeat them.

Well, I should go. There's a TON of stuff I have to do, ranging from brushing my hair to reading a book. It IS Saturday, people. If you want to do something worth doing, you go right ahead, there's plenty of weeds in the garden and I've got a pile of old chairs that should be burned. Stop by. I'll give you the gloves and a pack of matches. Just close the door tight on your way out, and try not to trip over any cardboard.