The Next-to-Nothing House

Ordinary Days

2013-03-01T17:14:00.000-05:00

Kelly has invited us to share a "Day In The Life"....

I know most people will find this insane, but I adore Mondays. Mondays are a fresh start on a week not yet muddled with things we've forgotten to do. It is my day to rein in the disorder caused by the weekend; creating an island of calm after the chaos of a house packed with a husband, three teenagers, a cat, and a dog.
I find it a blessing to be back in my usual routine; a routine instilled in me by my mother. It was her belief that you should have a basic schedule to work from, so to not get bogged down.

Mondays are for laundry, Tuesdays are for grocery shopping, Wednesdays are for ironing, Thursdays are for errands, and Fridays are my big cleaning days. Of course, a random errand may need to be taken care of on a Tuesday, but this schedule is just my starting point....it basically keeps me from going crazy ;)

Here is how my Monday looked...(sorry, this is going to be a long one.)

I'm never happy to hear the alarm go off at 6 AM, but if I sleep any later I'll be late for the rest of the day. After a good hot shower, wrapped in my robe, I go wake up my daughter, Madeline, then head back to my bathroom to dry my hair and put on a bit of makeup. On stay at home days I don't wear a full face of makeup, but I like to look fresh and pulled together should someone drop by unannounced. I hope the UPS man appreciates my effort.

After dressing, I wake up my youngest son, Hayden, and head down stairs to let out Sadie (our miniature Aussi). She is always such a good girl, but the rainy weather is a challenge to even her good temperament. The cold temperatures are enough to make us both want to run back inside, but she is quick to do her business and for that I am grateful.

My day does not truly start until the "gift from God" starts brewing....oh coffee, how I love thee! Just the smell of it gives me the strength to pack everyone's lunches and make breakfast. I call up the stairs to Madeline to get a move on, it is now 7:30 and her bus comes at 7:45. I often meet her at the bottom of the stairs, throw her lunch in her backpack, shove some easily carried food in her hand, and push her out the door. She is chronically late; it has something to do with the masses of hair she feels she must curl every morning. One down, two to go...

Hayden usually shows up at the breakfast table as I hear the shower start, which means my oldest son, Paine, is up. (Madeline and Hayden shower at night, but Paine prefers to in the morning.) As he eats I run through a check list with him....homework in backpack? check....jacket and shoes ready to go? check....any forms needing to be signed? check.... Of course, if any these things are not done I am sure to receive a call from the school with his sad voice pleading for me to bring_______ to him. I try to keep those trips to a minimum. Off to brush his teeth; the two boys pass on the stairs and I pray they don't make eye contact. With so much testosterone in our house you never know when one will take umbrage over a mere look. Obviously, I'm not raising morning people.

Paine is not a breakfast eater and I've stopped trying to entice him to just take a bite or two. He is 18 now and it hasn't worked for quite awhile. I hand him his lunch as he heads out the door on his way to his internship at the Commonwealth Attorney's office. I can't believe he will be graduating this year.
Two down, one to go...

Hayden darts out the door just as the bus pulls up and I watch him run across the street, jacket half on and backpack dragging. Three for three...

I toss the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, pour myself a much needed cup of coffee, and make my way to my favorite chair. From 8:30 to 9:30 I have my prayer time; I read a daily devotional and a few chapters of the bible. If time is permitting I'll take a few moments to journal my thoughts on the days reading or prayer requests. This hour is vital to my spiritual and mental health. I never give up this hour.

It seems like for the last month someone has either been traveling (my husband) or sick (all of us). It is nice to have a quiet day of washing and folding laundry.

With the washing machine going, I lay out what will be needed for dinner and begin my daily touch up of the house. Each bathroom gets wiped down and that day's rooms get touched up (quick dusting, straightening up, etc...) On Monday's I clean the kitchen and empty the refrigerator in preparation for Tuesday's grocery trip.

I try to enjoy a few chapters of a book, while eating my lunch around 12, but too often I am interrupted with a ringing phone or distracted with email messages in need of a reply. I am chairing a charity event in September and it is starting to eat into my every moment. I've set aside the hours of 1:30 to 3:30 to work on this event and it is making the planning much easier.

The sound of the garage door signals the arrival home of Paine and Madeline, with Hayden to soon follow on the school bus. The quiet of the day is quickly replaced with sounds of rummaging for snacks and the sharing of the days events. Paine will be leaving within the hour for his job at a local grocery store and will not be eating dinner with us, so I make sure he has a substantial snack before he leaves.

As Hayden arrives home, I remove the chicken roasting in the oven and let it rest as I prepare some wild rice and broccoli. It will only be three of us for dinner because Paul, my husband, is in Mississippi on business for the week.

After dinner, I load the dishwasher and sweep the floor...I do not like coming down to a messy kitchen in the morning. Hayden starts his homework as Madeline showers and I pray he won't need help with Algebra; the math expert is in Mississippi. No help needed tonight....thank you God!

Hayden is in the shower as I, finally, get to sit and watch television or catch up with my favorite blogs.

All too soon it is 9:30 and my bed is singing it's siren's song.

Children tucked in snug in their beds... Sadie in her crate after one last trip outside... My teeth brushed.... Face cleansed and moisturized... Alarm set... Prayers are said...Goodnight.

And how was your day?

Old South/New South

2013-02-28T15:27:00.000-05:00

It is one of those cold, grey days, making you want to throw your hands up in disgust. Spring has been teasing us with little glimpses of her coming glory only to retreat and leave us believing she'll never arrive. The tulips and daffodils, just peeking from the ground, have been sprinkled with a fine coat of snow and I have retreated to the comfort of my favorite chair. Warm weather may allude me, but a cup of tea is an eternal friend.

Having spent the winter immersing myself in seed catalogs and sketching planting blueprints, I am especially anxious for the return of warm weather. The restrictions of our neighborhood association are stealing a bit of my happiness, but I'm determined to create the garden of my dreams. Roses and peonies top my planting list for the sheer joy their frilly loveliness brings and, with careful planning, I'm sure to be able to hide more than a few vegetables among the flowers; vegetable gardens are not on the "approved" list, along with fruit trees. I still wonder what possessed me to believe this was the best neighborhood for us!

I grew up in the country with a large vegetable garden, a fruit orchard, and Mother's roses. To lie beneath an apple tree in full bloom is to catch a glimpse of heaven and it was my permanent residence in the spring. Charlotte's Web will forever be linked in my mind with apple blossoms after having spent a week beneath the old, red delicious in the side yard. Unfortunately, this is a pleasure I've not enjoyed for far too many years.

While an apple tree is not an option, I make do with a petite, flowering cherry and a lovely first edition I'll Take My Stand by our much beloved Twelve Southerners. Not a bad trade-off by any means. Compromises must be made in order to blend our old southern ways in this new, every changing, south. Now where to find those antique roses....

New Beginnings

2013-02-22T19:37:00.000-05:00

When I was a little girl, I remember what a special treat it was to have my cousins visit. It was rare for them to make the long trip to our little Kentucky town and I relished every moment they were with us. While the adults sat beneath the shade tree, sipping iced tea and catching up on the happenings in one another's lives (days before Facebook), the children would gather in the side yard to play games.

Many a summer day was spent playing Red Rover, Red Light/Green Light, making daisy chains, and Freeze Tag. As the day wore on, we wore the signs of a hard day spent playing; popsicle stains, grass stains, skinned knees, sunburns, and granny beads were evidence of a day well spent.

How lucky I was to grow up in that small, southern town, in a small, southern way. Three television stations; one movie theater; a couple public pools (in town and too far of a drive to make it a regular event); one McDonald's (also in town); one roller skating ring (you guessed it....in town).....there wasn't much to do and I was lucky for it. I now live in a much larger city, population a little over 300,000, and, while not on the same scale of a major U.S. city, it is often too big and busy.

My children have had very different childhoods from mine; I often feel regret over that. They have grown up with five multiplex theaters within a few miles of our house, 100's of television stations, multiple city pools, a private neighborhood pool, any fast food restaurant you could imagine at every turn, Rupp Arena just down the road, private baseball leagues, private lacrosse leagues, etc... Unfortunately, I can't say they are any happier for it. I am sad to admit that we got caught up in the "American Dream" and lost what made our childhood so special.

Since New Year, I've been thinking about the direction I want to take this blog (hate that word) and this is what I've decided....

The Next-to-Nothing House is about family, faith, friendship, traditions, food, heritage, and those simple pleasure not found for purchase in any store.

I wish to share with you family stories in the hope you will be able to identify the thread which binds us all into a greater family.

I wish to share my faith. Faith in a God bigger than any challenge we may face. Faith learned at my mother's knee, from my father's simple prayers, and from many a fine preacher.

I wish to share the recipes passed down through my family. Recipes as simple as fluffy, buttermilk biscuits and as complicated as a multi-stepped raspberry chocolate mousse cake.

I wish to share my heritage. My family arrived in Virginia in 1613, left a legacy in North Carolina, touched history in Tennessee, and, eventually, made their way into Kentucky shortly after it became a state.

Many family traditions can be traced back to those who came before. I hope to share those traditions with you.

I wish to share our lives with you in the hope that we can all learn something from one another.

Welcome to The Next-to-Nothing House...

Happy New Year!

2013-01-01T00:00:00.000-05:00

Time Flies

2012-12-29T21:48:00.000-05:00

It is hard for me to believe so many months have passed since I posted last. Our family has been through multiple changes and life is just starting to resemble something close to normal. I look forward to sharing our journey with you, but for now here are a few pictures from Christmas. Enjoy!

A twinkle of lights peeked through the front door...

A glimpse of what was to come...

Their full beauty was revealed...

The candles where lit....

The altar was dressed...

The pews waited as the choir prepared...

They came from near and far....

His mystery was soon to be revealed...

Hoping you and yours had a very Merry Christmas....

I will see you soon in the New Year!

Real Books

2012-07-15T16:59:00.000-04:00

What would a Sunday afternoon be without a comfy chair and an interesting book?

Summertime, Part 3

2012-06-16T08:25:00.002-04:00

We headed ~~West~~ Midwest! With out intending to, we followed Lincoln....

From being born in Kentucky...

Raised in Indiana....

And, settling in Illinois, we where right behind him.

We went past Springfield, IL and made our way to Chicago where my husband is on business.

As if we had not already spent more than enough time in the car, we picked up my husband, jumped back into the car and headed on down the road.....

It was ok because this can be lots of fun.

Eventually, you get hungry and must find some place to eat....this looked good...and it was!

We were back on the road with the wind in our faces.

I tell the children that they don't need their cell phones or their Ipods....if you don't want to see another corn field then just look up.....

Looking up we saw this glorious sight while at a stop sign...

Bridges are much more exciting while looking up....(not for the driver though...well maybe it would be?!)

When the towns and bridges were gone He provided a glorious sight...

I have no idea what the scientific name for this is, but it is certainly beautiful.

We finally reached our destination. Don't recognize it? Why, that's Old Man River himself!

So, how is your summer so far?

Summertime...Part 2

2012-06-15T08:00:00.001-04:00

The High Hope Steeplechase is a highlight of our year and we did not miss a moment of it.

From watching the jockey's be weighed...

To jockey silks matching horses....

And, jockey nail polish matching silks!

We enjoyed the close finishes...

And, discovered that steeplechase is for everyone...

After all, who doesn't love a new piece of silver?

To be continued...

Summertime

2012-06-14T08:00:00.002-04:00

It is only mid-June, but we've been busy, busy, busy. Here is a peek....

We've visited lovely little churches out in the countryside.

Where the garden beacons

And, the perfect place to sit awaits.

A long discussion took place about this man buried but a few feet away.

We spoke of his talent and the gift he gave of this loveliest of songs.

To be continued....

A Quiet Life

2012-04-27T11:39:00.000-04:00

I once heard a story of an elderly lady commenting, on the saying "God doesn't give us more than we can stand" with the reply, "Nope, but sometimes He sure can bend ya double." I had a good chuckle and didn't give it further thought.

While I don't want this blog (still dislike that word) to become a place of moaning and groaning, I feel I must share recent events as a cautionary tale.

Due to my husband's crazy work schedule we had H & R Block do our taxes this year. They were wonderful to work with and I highly recommend them based on the service they rendered us. We scheduled a time to come in and sign everything and have our taxes electronically filed....all went well. However, there was one little question needing to be answered and it was recommended we call the IRS directly. I still feel ill just thinking about that phone call.

As expected, my husband had to go through a verification process before the IRS agent would speak to him. It was during this process that we discovered our identity had been stolen.....and the people who stole it had filed our taxes back in March! I immediately felt sick. What information did they have? Obviously, Paul's social security number, but did they have mine? What about my children's? Our oldest will be 18 this December, would he have pre-made debt waiting for him? I'm so careful with our information, how could this happen?

We filed an affidavit with the IRS, a police report in our hometown, filed reports with all three credit reporting agencies, filed a report with our bank and credit card company, etc... Now we sit here and wait. The waiting is the hardest part, but I know there is nothing I can do at this time. How could this have happened? I never give out personal information, I shred everything, and we keep the security updated on our computers. We don't know how they got our information, but they got it nonetheless.

I wish I had words of wisdom for this situation. I have nothing; nothing, but a desire to return to a quiet life.

Prayer by George Frederic Watts (1817-1904)

"Mid all the traffic of the way,

Turmoil without, within;

Make of my heart a quiet place,

And come and dwell therein."

~ Unknown

Let's Catch Up

2012-04-11T15:55:00.000-04:00

I'm positive it appears I've fallen off the face of the earth, but I merely went to the edge. Let's catch up, shall we?

Last year was a growing time for our family. We had decided it would be best for myself and the children to return to Kentucky, while my husband remained at his job in Georgia. Of course, tongues started wagging and I hadn't the energy to explain our choice to everyone I met. I laugh now at how I once ended every discussion of my husband not living with us with "....but, we're very happily married."

I am the first to admit that it was a hard year....a year of broken washing machines, broken garage doors, broken bones....there is a pattern starting here. For a time, it felt as if the moment his tail lights disappeared something would break and I would have to wait until his next return trip home for it to be fixed. We coped. We missed one another. We adapted. And, we grew.

In January, our prayers were answered....sort of. A new job was offered to my husband; a job with a competitive salary, good benefits, and a lot of travel. With much discussion, we decided we could handle the amount of travel, after all, with working in Georgia he was gone almost 100% of the time as it was. How bad could it be? Not too bad for the first three days...

Tuesday and Thursday nights I have the luxury of two uninterrupted hours to myself. My daughter sings in the cathedral choir and on those nights I sneak off to the Brides Room for my time. I read, I write, I listen to the beautiful sounds drifting from the choir room and I enjoy every quiet moment. I love this time.

On March 8th, I sat in that upstairs room working on a writing project when I noticed that time had gotten away from me. I usually meet Madeline in the downstairs hallways and she would be there soon. I gathered my belongings, turned off the lights and headed out the door. The hallway light was on....the stairwell light was not. I really thought I could see well enough, but my last thought was of how this could be dangerous (for someone else). I believe I missed the last two steps, not enough to really hurt you, right? I immediately knew I was in trouble. I tried calling for help, but no one was in that wing of the church at that hour. I gathered my strewn belongings, found my phone, and tried to call the security man at the front desk. I was so rattled I couldn't figure out how to use my phone and, once I calmed myself enough to push the correct buttons, I realized I did not have the church's number programmed into my phone. Thank God for Google! The call went straight to an answering machine informing me that if I had an emergency I should call the clergy on duty at ###-####. Yes, even now I can't even begin to remember that number and of all times to not have a pen and paper. By this time I'm talking to myself....

"You can't call Paul, he's in Chicago"

"Okay, just call Madeline and she'll get the security man." Fail. She must turn her phone off during practice.

"Okay, just call Paine (my 17 year old son) and he can drive to the church and take me to the hospital." Fail. He had gone to a movie with friends....turning off his phone.

In the end, thirty minutes after the fall, it was a dear friend"s husband who rescued me.

I won't bore you with the details of the ER visit. Well, just maybe one little story.... My neighbors, upon hearing of my accident, gathered my two sons and met us at the hospital.
While I was having my foot x-ray, Hayden (the youngest) asked Madeline, "Was she crying a lot?"
"No", she replied.
After thinking about it for a bit, he asked, "Well, was she cussin' a lot?"
Evidently, the waiting room audience found this pretty funny and leaves me wondering if I need to watch my language. LOL

In the end, the prognosis is too ~~gory~~ detailed to go into, but it suffices to say I messed my entire foot up. A compression cast for two weeks was followed by an air cast for three and this Friday's appointment will inform me of my future. I long to burn my crutches!

So, I did not fall off the face of the earth, I merely went to the edge (of my sanity).
I've been here, in my chair, with my impatience, looking at this.....

P.S. I promise to write more often, if you promise to visit more often. Deal?

P.S.S. My lovely husband has managed to miss most of this drama. He did come home for a couple of days, to assure himself I would live, before leaving for .......... Germany! Some people have all the luck.

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T16:28:00.002-05:00

Morning Ramble

2011-10-19T12:49:00.000-04:00

I can not remember where I got this picture.
If it is yours please let me know.

Autumn burst forth in all her glory several weeks ago, but this morning I awoke to winter nipping at her heels. It is cold! Of course, I can hear my northern friends laughing hardily, but with temperatures moving along in the steady upper 70's, you get complacent.

This morning I awoke to a decidedly chilly morning, sending us all into a mad search for warmer jackets and 'real' shoes. Yes, my daughter had to pack away her Toms! I must admit to it being a happy day for me...I don't like Toms. I thinking the company's intentions are wonderful, "With every pair you purchase, Toms will give a pair of new shoes to a child in need. One for one." Great idea! The problem? I don't find them attractive or well-made. I would rather buy attractive, well-made shoes and write a check for charity. I know, I know, lots of people disagree with me... Before you ask, no, I did not buy my daughters shoes; she bought them with babysitting money. Okay, back to this morning... The sudden change in weather caught me unawares and put more stress on our already stressful mornings.

Without fail my alarm clock sounds at 5:30 every week day. Quickly dressing, I make my way downstairs to prepare my morning coffee and to feed Miss Kitty. I have 30 minutes of quiet to meet with God before the day starts racing forth. I cherish this peaceful time for I know that it is short lived.

By 6 o'clock the whirlwind morning routine has started. My youngest, Hayden, is my first to awaken; his bus arrives at 7 a.m. and he is not a morning person :) A warm breakfast of cranberry-walnut oatmeal is ate, while I busily pack lunches, sign school planners, and find the missing permission slip. I vow an oath beneath my breath to be more organized, but all too soon the big yellow bus is at the corner and out the front door he runs. I always stand at the window and say a little prayer as he leaves...the same prayer I say as each of my children leave in the morning.

My oldest, Paine, is the next up, followed by Madeline, and the routine with each varies greatly... Paine doesn't like breakfast, can never find his 'A' day backpack, buys his lunch at school, and catches a ride with friends. Madeline will only have toast for breakfast, is incredibly organized, will never buy lunch at school, and , begrudgingly, rides the bus. Yet, not a one leaves my home without hearing "I love you, have a great day!" But, more importantly, they get their morning prayer as they walk away.

"Watch over thy child, O Lord,

as his days increase,

may he increase in wisdom, stature, and in favor with both God and man.

Through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen."

Birthday Celebrations

2011-10-12T23:22:00.000-04:00

Tuesday was my birthday.

Tuesday, October 11, was a big birthday.

Tuesday, October 11, was my 40th birthday....

I can't believe it myself! I think I'm going to like being able to say, "Well, now that I'm 40..." or "I'm 40 years old, I don't have to put up with this stuff..."

40 is an adult.

40 is a woman.

40 is finding your stride.

Yes, I think I'm going to like this.

In honor of my mile-stone birthday I made a little bit of heaven ... Enjoy!

Ginger Cake with Lemon Icing

1/2 cup unsalted butter

1/2 cup brown sugar

3/4 cup light corn syrup

3/4 cup dark molasses

3 tsp. fresh ginger, finely grated

1 tsp. ground cinnamon

1 cup milk

2 large eggs, beaten

1 tsp. baking soda, dissolved in 2 Tbsp. of warm water

2 1/2 cups all purpose flour

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. In a medium saucepan, melt butter along with sugar, syrup, molasses,

ginger, and cinnamon. Once butter has melted and all ingredients are well incorporated,

remove from heat and add milk, eggs, and baking soda in it's water.

Measure flour into a large mixing bowl and pour in liquid ingredients; beating very well

(this is a very liquid batter). Pour batter into a 9"x13" pan that has been lightly greased and floured.

Bake for 45 minutes to 1 hour, until risen and firm. Be careful not to over cook, as it is nicer when it is a bit sticky. Cool on a wire rack. Ice with Lemon Icing

Lemon Icing

(I prefer a very tart lemon flavor and the following recipe reflects that, but please adjust

lemon rind and lemon juice to suit your personal taste)

Finely grated rind of 2 lemons

Juice of 2 lemons (told you I liked it tart!)

6 Tbsp. butter, softened

2 Tbsp. water (if needed)

6 cups of confectioners sugar

Cream butter with a 1 cup of the confectioners sugar. Add grated lemon rind

and lemon juice. Continue adding confectioners sugar, one cup at a time,

until reach desired consistency.

A bit of water may be added if it gets too thick.

2011-10-07T15:04:00.000-04:00

When The Frost is on the Punkin

by James Whitcomb Riley (1853-1916)

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock,

And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin’ turkey-cock,

And the clackin’ of the guineys and the cluckin’ of the hens,

And the rooster’s hallylooyer as her tiptoes on the fence;

O, it’s then the time a feller is a-feelin’ at his best,

With the risin’ sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,

As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere

When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here–

Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,

And the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees;

But the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze

Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days

Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock–

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,

And the raspin’ of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;

The stubble in the furries–kindo’ lonesome-like, but still

A preachin’ sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;

The strawstack in the medder and the reaper in the shed;

The hosses in theyr stalls below–the clover overhead!–

O, it sets my hart a-clickin’ like the tickin’ of a clock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

Then your apples all is gethered, and teh ones a feller keeps

Is poured around teh cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;

And your cider-makin’s over, and your wimmern-folks is through

With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!…

I don’t know how to tell it–but ef such a thing could be

As the angels wantin’ boardin’, and they’d call around on me–

I’d want to ‘commodate ‘em–all the whole-indurin’ flock–

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

Looking For Normal

2011-07-11T07:45:00.001-04:00

Life is still crazy for my family at the moment and I've had trouble sitting still long enough to write. My thoughts are with all my dear readers and I hope you are enjoying this glorious July.

This lovely song is seeing me through these days....perhaps it will help you too.

Rose window Durham Cathedral

In heavenly love abiding,

No change my heart shall fear;

And safe is such confiding,

For nothing changes here.

The storm may roar without me,

My heart may low be laid,

But God is round about me,

And can I be dismayed?

Wherever He may guide me,

No fear shall turn me back;

My Shepherd is beside me,

And nothing shall I lack.

His wisdom ever waketh,

His sight is never dim;

He knows the way He taketh,

And I will walk with Him.

Green pastures are before me,

Which yet I have not seen;

Bright skies will soon be o'er me,

Where darkest clouds have been.

My hope I cannot measure,

My path to life is free;

My Savior is my treasure,

And He will walk with me.

~ Anna L. Waring

Parlez Vous Francais?

2011-06-13T16:11:00.002-04:00

Non? Then it's time to learn! Paris is waiting and who doesn't want to go to Paris? Exactly! How you ask?

Oh Happy Day can make it happen.

Meeting For Coffee

2011-06-12T19:16:00.000-04:00

This year the robins have built their nest high upon the garage wall. Often my sole companions in the early morning hours, I join them in the garden, coffee in hand, to delight in the undisturbed, enveloping quiet of the world before the day proceeds. With temperatures daily reaching well into the 90's, the humidity, a thick wet blanket, makes even the simplest of chores a drudgery. Pleasure is taken in these early morning hours. A slight breeze is detectable, but the sun continues its climb over the roof line and soon will burn off the dew that settled overnight. My reprieve from the heat will be short lived.

The blooming of the Winchester Cathedral roses draw my attention, but it is quickly diverted by little heads rising above the nest. Mother and father take turns filling little beaks held agape in faith for food they know will be delivered by loving parents.

Are not five sparrows sold for 2 pennies?

Yet not one of them is forgotten by God.

Luke 12:6

Never do the parents stray far in search of nourishment for their young. A watchful eye keeps guard no further than the cherry tree at the corner of the garden. Wayward birds are soon reminded to whom these delicate little hearts belong. The swift rebuke of a starling, perching to closely to robins nest, is testament to the watchful, paternal love. Not a single worry impedes the growth of the hatchling's in their slumber for their safety is guaranteed, both day and night, by the ones who love them dearly.

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life,

what you will eat; or your body,

what you will wear.

Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes.

~ Luke 12:22 & 23

Every morning I come out into this garden and await in faith the One who watches over me, both day and night. As the hot coffee seeps into my body and awakens my still sleep befuddled mind, His word quenches my world weary soul. I raise my head up in faith, knowing I will be feed.

Consider the ravens: they do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn;

yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds!

~ Luke 12:24

Memorial Day

2011-05-28T20:27:00.000-04:00

Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty. ~John F. Kennedy

Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er,

Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,

Dream of battled fields no more.
Days of danger, nights of waking. ~Sir Walter Scott

The story of America's quest for freedom is inscribed on her history in the blood of her patriots. ~Randy Vader

For love of country they accepted death... ~James A. Garfield

They are dead; but they live in each Patriot's breast,

And their names are engraven on honor's bright crest.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Spirit, that made those heroes dare

To die, and leave their children free,

Bid Time and Nature gently spare

The shaft we raise to them and thee.

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Breathe

2011-05-27T23:49:00.000-04:00

artwork by Maria Dixon 1896

It has been quite a stressful month and I've soothed my frazzled nerves with a combination of tea and beloved books. Here are a few lovely thought from one of Peter Marshall's poetic sermons.

"There is beauty in homely things which many people have never seen:

Sunlight through a jar of beach-plum jelly;

A rainbow in soapsuds in dishwater;

An egg yolk in a blue bowl;

White ruffled curtains sifting moonlight;

The color of cranberry glass;

A little cottage with blue shutters;

Crimson roses in an old stone crock;

The smell of newly-baked bread;

Candlelight on old brass;

The soft brown of a cocker's eyes."

Just reading of such loveliness makes it easier to breath.

Spring In The Bluegrass

2011-05-09T15:08:00.000-04:00

This past Saturday was the running of the 137th Kentucky Derby and we knew all eyes were on us. Derby is our yearly chance to dispel the stereotypes we Kentuckians are plagued with the other 364 days of the year. I won't waste my time writing about those, but will introduce you to the Kentucky that I know.

There is something special about Kentucky in the spring. It is hard to explain just how green it is here....and no, pictures do not do it justice. The redbud's and dogwoods are blooming, the white fences await a fresh coat of paint, and the silver gets polished in time for High Hope.

Of course, once spring slips into summer and the humidity takes hold, we start to dream of those crisp fall days and that sea of blue.

P.S. Yes, we do wear shoes....even our horses wear shoes! :)

Mosaic Mondays at Little Red House

Where I'm From

2011-05-08T18:50:00.001-04:00

My fellow Kentuckian Wendell Berry has voiced the belief that we need to understand our roots to know our place in this world.

"If you don't know where you're from,

you'll have a hard time saying where you're going."

~Wendell Berry

The lovely Searcy from Old Southern Garden was the inspiration for a previous post; a post reminiscent of a poem by George Ella Lyon.

Where I'm From

I am from clothespins,

from Clorox and carbon-tetrachloride.

I am from the dirt under the back porch.

(Black, glistening,

it tasted like beets.)

I am from the forsythia bush

the Dutch elm

whose long-gone limbs I remember

as if they were my own.

I'm from fudge and eyeglasses,

from Imogene and Alafair.

I'm from the know-it-alls

and the pass-it-ons,

from Perk up! and Pipe down!

I'm from He restoreth my soul

with a cottonball lamb

and ten verses I can say myself.

I'm from Artemus and Billie's Branch,

fried corn and strong coffee.

From the finger my grandfather lost

to the auger,

the eye my father shut to keep his sight.

Under my bed was a dress box

spilling old pictures,

a sift of lost faces

to drift beneath my dreams.

I am from those moments--

snapped before I budded --

leaf-fall from the family tree.

~George Ella Lyon

Now it is your turn. Here is a template to write your version of Where I'm From and I will post my version at the very bottom. If you chose to participate, I ask that you link back to this post so that I may visit and enjoy your poem.

I am from _______ (specific ordinary item), from _______ (product name) and _______.

I am from the _______ (home description... adjective, adjective, sensory detail).

I am from the _______ (plant, flower, natural item), the _______ (plant, flower, natural detail)

I am from _______ (family tradition) and _______ (family trait), from _______ (name of family member) and _______ (another family name) and _______ (family name).

I am from the _______ (description of family tendency) and _______ (another one).

From _______ (something you were told as a child) and _______ (another).

I am from (representation of religion, or lack of it). Further description.

I'm from _______ (place of birth and family ancestry), _______ (two food items representing your family).

From the _______ (specific family story about a specific person and detail), the _______ (another detail, and the _______ (another detail about another family member).

I am from _______ (location of family pictures, mementos, archives and several more lines indicating their worth).

Where I'm From

I am from old fruit jars,

from White Lily and Basse's Choice.

I am from the tall, white porch columns.

( graceful, slender ladies

cool under the heat

of a noon day sun.)

I am from the old garden roses,

the ancient white lilac

hugging the east garden wall

in it's lush frilly petticoat beauty.

I am from cream pulled candy and bluest of blue eyes,

from Lucien and Fairy.

I am from the orators and philosophers.

From mind your manners! and remember your people!

I am from All Things Bright And Beautiful and

the 1928 Book of Common Prayer.

I'm from Byrd and Duke's line,

corn pone and bourbon.

From the boat ride my grandfather took through the courthouse

during the 1937 flood,

the dictionary my uncle

bought as a birthday gift for my mother

before being sent to France during World War II.

In the bottom dresser drawer

folded into a tight triangle,

the flag given to my grandmother

reminding me of the price that we pay for freedom.

I am from those Second Sons--

pushing through the Cumberland Gap

to put down family roots

stretching from the Old Dominion

to the Bluegrass.

Growing Up

2011-05-05T12:53:00.000-04:00

This year I will be celebrating my 40th birthday. I'm being teased unmercifully by my children and, just yesterday, informed by Paine that I was going to be sooo old . I couldn't help but laugh. I guess he is right... 40 must appear terribly old from the view point of a 16 year old, but I'm not going to be spending any time mournfully commemorating the passing of my youth. I plan to celebrate the wisdom the last 39 years and 7 months has bestowed upon me.

I recently read this piece by Horace Walpole and believe it sums up my feels perfectly.

"To act with common sense, according to the moment, is the best wisdom;

and the best philosophy is to do one's duties, to take the world as it comes,

submit respectfully to one's lot,

and bless the goodness that has given us so much happiness with it,

whatever it is."

The Holy City

2011-05-01T23:01:00.001-04:00

Every February, for the last 10 years, my family has taken a trip to what has become our families "adopted" city. Unfortunately, with our moves this year it was impossible to make the trip and I've been left with feelings of withdrawal. I've been promised a trip later this year, but until then I will enjoy a few pictures from trips past.

With the numerous steeples dotting the city's skyline, Charleston is known as The Holy City and I make it a point to attend services at a different church each time we visit. Our family is Episcopalian, but as Mother often says, "It's good to shop around for a good sermon on occasion."

I have many recommendation of things to do while in Charleston, but today I'd like to share a place we visit every single year...

Magnolia Plantation was founded in 1676 by the Drayton family and has survived the centuries. It has witnessed the history of our nation from the American Revolution to the Civil War and beyond. It opened its doors to the visitors in 1870 now becoming the oldest public tourist site in the Lowcountry, and the oldest public gardens in America.

From the beautiful azaleas and camellias to the Monet like white bridges, it is an unforgettable experience to walk the gravel paths and if you look closely perhaps you will find the bench seat where John Drayton sat and composed his sermons before and during the Civil War.

Oh, June can not come quickly enough...

Mosaic Mondays with Little Red House

The Most Important Words

2011-05-01T20:48:00.000-04:00

The six most important words: "I admit I made a mistake."

The five most important words: "You did a good job."

The four most important words: "What is your opinion?"

The three most important words: "If you please."

The two most important words: "Thank you."

The one most important word: "We."

The least important word: "I."