Showing posts with label Wisdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wisdom. Show all posts
Monday, October 26, 2015
Wisdom
I read a quote yesterday that really got me thinking:
"Wisdom, after all, is just healed pain."
Healed pain?
I have prayed often for wisdom, but I have never prayed for pain. If wisdom only comes after pain, then our society is a bit backwards. Don't we emphatically try to avoid pain?
Can we strive too hard to avoid pain, and in so-doing, lose something very valuable...sense, priority, judgement, principle?
Strangely enough, I think the answer is yes.
Thursday, July 9, 2015
Everything But The...
Sometimes I feel I've tried everything but the kitchen sink. Actually, in respect to raising kids and home management, I probably have. My stick-to-it-iveness is the problem. Or maybe it's that in a very large family no day is like the one before; there are schedules and sports and appointments. For years, there was a new baby every 14-20 months. I wondered when things would return to normal.
Then I realized that normal for us was the state of flux. I've read so many books on organization. I wrote a blog post about some of them. Each has something very helpful, though it is unrealistic to expect just one to fit our family long term. I still like referring to them. Life just keeps changing. Marie and Susanna have moved into an apartment together, we have no foreign exchange students and so we "only" have 6 children at home. They are all school-aged, which is wonderful. For the first time in literally decades I was home alone some days of the week this past school year.
The children are on summer break now. In times past we organized home "camp" days but this summer they range in age from almost 13 down to 6 and the older boys aren't excited about "Pirate Day," or "Astronaut Day." We still do a lot of learning serendipitously, though. We've been playing with the animals more, and their chores involve feeding and watering them, moving the ponies from stall to coral, and collecting eggs from the chickens. It used to be that I had to limit television. Now it is limiting computer and X-box time.
Yesterday they played for hours outside, the weather cool. It was so much fun to see them running around with backpacks and plastic Nerf guns, working as a team. Ben would stop to roll around on the grass with some dog or cat. Max and Gus moved stealthily into the barn to avoid enemy wasps. Thankfully, no stings.
They also love swimming in the pond (all swim well), paddle-boating and canoe-ing. Red is a great color for the canoe because I can locate them easily on the pond. Gus loves it especially. We have taught them boat safety, and our pond is small.
There are still days where they claim boredom; those are the days I send them outside. "What do you think children have done all the thousands of years before air conditioning and computers??" "Aw, Mom, that was the olden days--kids do different things now!" Watching them play Army yesterday reminded me of playing with my brothers forty-five years ago. It doesn't have to be so different. Many families have stricter rules and even no computer time or X-Boxes. I respect that.
Instead of feeling like I've failed at a given tasj, I remind myself to take from it what I can and move on. That's not to say I don't get down about it sometimes. I tell myself, like Dori from "Finding Nemo" repeated: "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming." Jesus told the disciples that if a town didn't welcome them to kick the dust off their feet, to keep doing what they were meant to do. Disappointment and negativity can render one ineffective and hopeless.
Not today! Today I had the kids formulate a contract of turns on technology and initial it. They abided. Some broke off to play piano, clarinet and guitar, and the others went to the pond.
Then we made cookies. A double batch in my giant new Kitchen-Aid mixer. Marie and Susanna are excited to inherit my old tilt one. Over the years they helped mix thousands of cakes and cookies with it. Before they were born I used it to bake wedding cakes and birthday cakes and our family's favorite Dobos Torte. Unless you have a Hobart or a commercial mixer, I think a Kitchen-Aid mixer is the best small appliance. My KSM-90 is still going strong after 28 years. I hope my new larger capacity mixer will, also.
So here's the recipe. "Everything But The...Kitchen Sink Cookies." If you don't have a Kitchen-Aid, it will be quite the upper body workout. I doubled the recipe, but that won't work in a 4 or 5 qt. bowl. You'd need this baby (or a Hobart--lucky you!):
You can add other ingredients. A basic oatmeal cookie is one cup flour and three cups oats. I have purchased gluten free oats before and ground some to make the 1 cup of flour. I've added crispy rice cereal, granola, different types of chocolate chips and different nuts. You could even add cinnamon or some almond extract. Today I thought dried cherries would be good, but I didn't have any on hand.
Have fun with the recipe. If I struck a cord with you, if you are also an organizational book junky yet have failed to find just he right system, perhaps we're ok the way we are. Just be sure to take one day at a time and to kick the dust off your feet from the methods that don't work. Keep moving on and doing what you do best.
Then I realized that normal for us was the state of flux. I've read so many books on organization. I wrote a blog post about some of them. Each has something very helpful, though it is unrealistic to expect just one to fit our family long term. I still like referring to them. Life just keeps changing. Marie and Susanna have moved into an apartment together, we have no foreign exchange students and so we "only" have 6 children at home. They are all school-aged, which is wonderful. For the first time in literally decades I was home alone some days of the week this past school year.
The children are on summer break now. In times past we organized home "camp" days but this summer they range in age from almost 13 down to 6 and the older boys aren't excited about "Pirate Day," or "Astronaut Day." We still do a lot of learning serendipitously, though. We've been playing with the animals more, and their chores involve feeding and watering them, moving the ponies from stall to coral, and collecting eggs from the chickens. It used to be that I had to limit television. Now it is limiting computer and X-box time.
Yesterday they played for hours outside, the weather cool. It was so much fun to see them running around with backpacks and plastic Nerf guns, working as a team. Ben would stop to roll around on the grass with some dog or cat. Max and Gus moved stealthily into the barn to avoid enemy wasps. Thankfully, no stings.
They also love swimming in the pond (all swim well), paddle-boating and canoe-ing. Red is a great color for the canoe because I can locate them easily on the pond. Gus loves it especially. We have taught them boat safety, and our pond is small.
There are still days where they claim boredom; those are the days I send them outside. "What do you think children have done all the thousands of years before air conditioning and computers??" "Aw, Mom, that was the olden days--kids do different things now!" Watching them play Army yesterday reminded me of playing with my brothers forty-five years ago. It doesn't have to be so different. Many families have stricter rules and even no computer time or X-Boxes. I respect that.
Instead of feeling like I've failed at a given tasj, I remind myself to take from it what I can and move on. That's not to say I don't get down about it sometimes. I tell myself, like Dori from "Finding Nemo" repeated: "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming." Jesus told the disciples that if a town didn't welcome them to kick the dust off their feet, to keep doing what they were meant to do. Disappointment and negativity can render one ineffective and hopeless.
Not today! Today I had the kids formulate a contract of turns on technology and initial it. They abided. Some broke off to play piano, clarinet and guitar, and the others went to the pond.
Then we made cookies. A double batch in my giant new Kitchen-Aid mixer. Marie and Susanna are excited to inherit my old tilt one. Over the years they helped mix thousands of cakes and cookies with it. Before they were born I used it to bake wedding cakes and birthday cakes and our family's favorite Dobos Torte. Unless you have a Hobart or a commercial mixer, I think a Kitchen-Aid mixer is the best small appliance. My KSM-90 is still going strong after 28 years. I hope my new larger capacity mixer will, also.
So here's the recipe. "Everything But The...Kitchen Sink Cookies." If you don't have a Kitchen-Aid, it will be quite the upper body workout. I doubled the recipe, but that won't work in a 4 or 5 qt. bowl. You'd need this baby (or a Hobart--lucky you!):
Everything But The Kitchen Sink Cookies
Beat together:
1 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup white sugar
1 cup dark brown sugar
1 1/2 tsp pure vanilla
Beat in:
2 eggs
Stir dry ingredients together, and mix in slowly:
1/2 cup coconut flour
1/2 cup unbleached white flour (I like King Arthur Brand)
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
Stir in very slowly:
2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
1 cup organic dried coconut (or whatever you have)
1/2 cup chopped pecans
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
When well combined, drop by tablespoonful onto an ungreased cookie sheet and bake til golden in a 350 degree oven (about 10 minutes). Cool on baking rack.
Have fun with the recipe. If I struck a cord with you, if you are also an organizational book junky yet have failed to find just he right system, perhaps we're ok the way we are. Just be sure to take one day at a time and to kick the dust off your feet from the methods that don't work. Keep moving on and doing what you do best.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Childhood Friends, Lifelong Friends
I am looking forward to seeing two of my oldest friends later this week. We have not been together--the three of us--since 2000 when my late husband passed away. Though Bev lived hundreds of miles away with a busy speaking and teaching schedule, she was by my side within hours of Bob's death. Sandy was there within minutes. I count myself so blessed to have friends like them.
My work colleagues cautioned today, "Don't get into trouble!" The worst I can imagine us doing is laughing too hard and annoying some around us. I admit I feel I will become childlike again. But I have gotten pretty "in-touch" with my inner child. My temperament allows it. A Myers-Briggs INFP, a melancholic with sanguine as well as phlegmatic flares, I guess I am a natural contemplative.
My brother once commented that I was more like my mother than he. "I wish I could care more about things sometimes, like you do." I admitted that I wished sometimes I was not so empathetic: it takes a lot of energy. It also leads to some disillusionment, as I have intimated in the last couple of posts. Without disillusionment, though, is life realistic? For many it leads to anger and distrust. I reflected in my last post about trusting God with the big picture, and that thankfulness was a key to true joy. Happiness is momentary and transient. Joy is a cenote: a wellspring under the surface.
It is thought that the Mayan culture, which grew to an estimated 20 million occupying the Yucatan Penninsula in the first millennia A.D. survived because of thousands of miles of cenotes: underground caverns full of water. Crystal clear. Life-giving. Though joy may be unseen and unfelt because of tragic life events, that spring is ever there, ready to well up when we least expect it. I felt it--not as happiness, but of peace--when riding in the ambulance just after Bob's death. I felt it again a month later driving to my Mom's place in South Carolina. One minute wondering how the world could go on, the next feeling the presence of the Holy Spirit, the Comforter--it seems implausible. The Peace of God which passes all understanding. Truly.
Sandy and Bev and I have differences, especially in regard to politics and religion. We all three feel emotions very deeply. We are testimony to deep love and understanding and tolerance. I think that much of what Sandy and Bev and I will talk about will revolve around our life experiences and how we've met the challenges faced. We'll talk about memories as well as menopause. Sometimes life events are themselves the cause to ponder, and sometimes they are the signal that it is time to ponder the past. Tears as well as laughter can heal. I plan on much of both--with some feasting and thankfulness and joy.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
When We Can't Pick Up All The Pieces
I had one of those great long talks with an old friend the other day. The kind that realigns you; where you bear your worst fears, relive sadness, reassess decisions made, and shed tears. It is so important to have someone you can bear your soul to and who would never give you cause to regret that you did.
Time changes things and that is inevitable. On the farm it is certainly true. I've chronicled the various animals arriving and the joys they brought. We still have joy, but we have had to live with some difficult losses. Annabell was never able to conceive and so we could not keep her. One philosophy about working farms that is difficult for non-farm folk to understand is that if an animal, or crop, or aspect, does not work in the plan, then oftentimes that part needs to be changed. Annabell was given to a very nice family. A cow named Sugar was sadly given away as well. Betsy was sold. Who would guess that I would develop a severe allergy to cow dander. I tried everything. It was very hard to give up the dream, but I started the process.
And then one February morning I walked into the pasture and Flossy (Betsy's daughter I hadn't sold yet) had dropped a beautiful calf. We were so surprised; we did not know that at 9 months, Flossy had been bred when our neighbor's Gelbvieh bull kept hopping the fence. I'd figured Betsy was sold pregnant, but never dreamed that little Flossy was with-calf. We named him Friday for the day he was born and the dream that Marie recently had about a calf. Flossy produced delicious Jersey milk and I tried milking again. We were blessed with new tenants who wanted to milk, plus a slew of other friends who wanted to, and things worked well.
We even bought another cow, with great plans in mind. May was a beautiful Jersey/Red Angus cross. She had a gorgeous brindle coat and she was bred. Not too long after, she dropped a bull calf and we named him Norman. All was well, but then a really tragic event occurred. One night a pack of feral dogs attacked and killed all six of Marie's sweet Nubian goats. We had hand raised most of them. Marie was away at college and for that I was thankful; the sight was one I won't forget. Over the next few weeks an anxiety came over me that was not easily shaken off. It was a long process of trying to make all of the other animals (the small ones) safe. My cow allergy worsened. I didn't sleep well.
A month later we found May lying still in the pasture. She had died suddenly of bloat. We had a vet come out and run tests; it was a freak occurrence. I wondered what God was trying to tell us, to tell me. The stress became too much and we sold the rest of the cows--Norman to our neighbor and my dear Flossy and her Friday to a wonderful homeschooling/farmsteading family. We also let go of one pony to the same family. In retrospect it was a dream which was not meant to last. That is what I spoke to my friend about, in sadness.
Like the best of friends she listened, and she told me she was so sad for me. Then she said something that maybe I wasn't prepared to hear earlier, but could now. She said what a blessing there was even in the sadness. It was obvious to think she referred to the people who were gifted with our animals, and even that Marie was not home to see what happened to her precious goats. That was not all she meant. What she said that resonated deeply was, "There are so many people who will never do the things you have done, who will want to but have no farm or no means to have pets. But you always wanted horses and cows and goats and more. And for a brief time, you got to live that life of milking cows and raising goats. Maybe you will again, maybe you won't. But you did."
She went on to tell me something we'd talked about before: "Life is full of so many puzzle pieces. We may never see them all put together, but our Lord does. He sees all the stages, all the beauty, the tragedy, and even His finished picture. We can trust that the pieces are placed before us by Him, that we can pick them up and turn them around and stare intently before placing them. Some we can move around. Some need to be put aside for another time." She made it sound so comforting, so deep and wise and true. Life would always involve change, and it would not always be easy, but we could trust the true builder of the puzzle, and we could be thankful for the pieces, even aspects of the difficult ones. Love, thankfulness and trust were the keys to working the puzzle.
Driving home one day, pulling into our lane I saw the Robins return. Always a moment of joy in those first days, I remembered when my Mom was alive and the game she played with our landlord, Mrs. Mayo. Who would see the first Robin return after the long winter. I smiled and thought of Mom. My heart ached with missing her, a tear fell down my cheek but was replaced by a smile. What memories! I realized that some of the puzzle pieces would stay exactly where they were for the rest of my life, not to be picked up again. I might not see the finished picture, but much of what had been laid down and interlocked carefully--or even hastily or even forced--was there to stay. And that was okay. It continues to be built. A beautiful and unique picture in the journey of a life.
Time changes things and that is inevitable. On the farm it is certainly true. I've chronicled the various animals arriving and the joys they brought. We still have joy, but we have had to live with some difficult losses. Annabell was never able to conceive and so we could not keep her. One philosophy about working farms that is difficult for non-farm folk to understand is that if an animal, or crop, or aspect, does not work in the plan, then oftentimes that part needs to be changed. Annabell was given to a very nice family. A cow named Sugar was sadly given away as well. Betsy was sold. Who would guess that I would develop a severe allergy to cow dander. I tried everything. It was very hard to give up the dream, but I started the process.
And then one February morning I walked into the pasture and Flossy (Betsy's daughter I hadn't sold yet) had dropped a beautiful calf. We were so surprised; we did not know that at 9 months, Flossy had been bred when our neighbor's Gelbvieh bull kept hopping the fence. I'd figured Betsy was sold pregnant, but never dreamed that little Flossy was with-calf. We named him Friday for the day he was born and the dream that Marie recently had about a calf. Flossy produced delicious Jersey milk and I tried milking again. We were blessed with new tenants who wanted to milk, plus a slew of other friends who wanted to, and things worked well.
We even bought another cow, with great plans in mind. May was a beautiful Jersey/Red Angus cross. She had a gorgeous brindle coat and she was bred. Not too long after, she dropped a bull calf and we named him Norman. All was well, but then a really tragic event occurred. One night a pack of feral dogs attacked and killed all six of Marie's sweet Nubian goats. We had hand raised most of them. Marie was away at college and for that I was thankful; the sight was one I won't forget. Over the next few weeks an anxiety came over me that was not easily shaken off. It was a long process of trying to make all of the other animals (the small ones) safe. My cow allergy worsened. I didn't sleep well.
A month later we found May lying still in the pasture. She had died suddenly of bloat. We had a vet come out and run tests; it was a freak occurrence. I wondered what God was trying to tell us, to tell me. The stress became too much and we sold the rest of the cows--Norman to our neighbor and my dear Flossy and her Friday to a wonderful homeschooling/farmsteading family. We also let go of one pony to the same family. In retrospect it was a dream which was not meant to last. That is what I spoke to my friend about, in sadness.
Like the best of friends she listened, and she told me she was so sad for me. Then she said something that maybe I wasn't prepared to hear earlier, but could now. She said what a blessing there was even in the sadness. It was obvious to think she referred to the people who were gifted with our animals, and even that Marie was not home to see what happened to her precious goats. That was not all she meant. What she said that resonated deeply was, "There are so many people who will never do the things you have done, who will want to but have no farm or no means to have pets. But you always wanted horses and cows and goats and more. And for a brief time, you got to live that life of milking cows and raising goats. Maybe you will again, maybe you won't. But you did."
She went on to tell me something we'd talked about before: "Life is full of so many puzzle pieces. We may never see them all put together, but our Lord does. He sees all the stages, all the beauty, the tragedy, and even His finished picture. We can trust that the pieces are placed before us by Him, that we can pick them up and turn them around and stare intently before placing them. Some we can move around. Some need to be put aside for another time." She made it sound so comforting, so deep and wise and true. Life would always involve change, and it would not always be easy, but we could trust the true builder of the puzzle, and we could be thankful for the pieces, even aspects of the difficult ones. Love, thankfulness and trust were the keys to working the puzzle.
Driving home one day, pulling into our lane I saw the Robins return. Always a moment of joy in those first days, I remembered when my Mom was alive and the game she played with our landlord, Mrs. Mayo. Who would see the first Robin return after the long winter. I smiled and thought of Mom. My heart ached with missing her, a tear fell down my cheek but was replaced by a smile. What memories! I realized that some of the puzzle pieces would stay exactly where they were for the rest of my life, not to be picked up again. I might not see the finished picture, but much of what had been laid down and interlocked carefully--or even hastily or even forced--was there to stay. And that was okay. It continues to be built. A beautiful and unique picture in the journey of a life.
Friday, February 20, 2015
Seeing Through Busy
Every one of my friends will say that their life is busy. I remember seeing a commercial from the 1950s which predicted that all of the new electric appliances would give women so much more leisure time! I do not think they understood the "Size of a Woman's Purse" philosophy. I don't know if I made that up, but I do know that whatever the size of my purse--it is filled to the brim. The same with "extra time." It gets filled. It is too cliché to say that many of us don't know how to say "no." We want what is best for our loved ones, our family, our husbands and our community. Our cup fills, and runneth over.
I have not posted for a very long time. Life has been busy. Our two oldest are now married! The next two are in college and all the rest are in school this year. So did I make more leisure time? Did I dive into housework? Neither. I took on three jobs and started my graduate degree. As I write this it seems nuts, but every decision at the time was a right one. Each job is very part-time. It is the masters in nursing education which takes the most time, but I have loved it. I think it would be fun to be independently wealthy and become a full-time student. I love learning so much. I also love inspiring students to learn when I tutor, teach a nutrition course and teach clinicals. And I love being a home health and hospice nurse on the weekends. So much good stuff!
It is running over in good and not so good ways. I now remember what a conflict it is juggling home and work. We had another lovely young lady live with us last year. Stephania is back in Columbia and we miss her terribly. She was truly one of the finest young people I have ever known. She helped our family immensely. I have decided that I am taking a few months off my graduate studies to dive back into my most important role: Mom. It is only a delay in my studies, and I know I won't regret the time with my family. The best of Moms take care of themselves, but they figure out how to give their best to their families. It is not always clear-cut, and sometimes it is difficult; but it is a great goal.
I have not posted for a very long time. Life has been busy. Our two oldest are now married! The next two are in college and all the rest are in school this year. So did I make more leisure time? Did I dive into housework? Neither. I took on three jobs and started my graduate degree. As I write this it seems nuts, but every decision at the time was a right one. Each job is very part-time. It is the masters in nursing education which takes the most time, but I have loved it. I think it would be fun to be independently wealthy and become a full-time student. I love learning so much. I also love inspiring students to learn when I tutor, teach a nutrition course and teach clinicals. And I love being a home health and hospice nurse on the weekends. So much good stuff!
It is running over in good and not so good ways. I now remember what a conflict it is juggling home and work. We had another lovely young lady live with us last year. Stephania is back in Columbia and we miss her terribly. She was truly one of the finest young people I have ever known. She helped our family immensely. I have decided that I am taking a few months off my graduate studies to dive back into my most important role: Mom. It is only a delay in my studies, and I know I won't regret the time with my family. The best of Moms take care of themselves, but they figure out how to give their best to their families. It is not always clear-cut, and sometimes it is difficult; but it is a great goal.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
An Old Dog
In December of 2011 I decided that it was time to transfer my RN (Registered Nurse license) from Maryland to Kansas. Since I have not been employed as a nurse for a decade (other than in my own family!), I was required to take a Nurse Refresher course. I searched for an approved University and got underway.
For RNs thinking about a refresher course, I highly recommend it. Yes, it's a bother, but for good reason. The toughest part is the required number of clinical hours. For Maryland it's 80, but for Kansas it's 180. That's a significant amount of time away from family--without pay! But it must be done and so I am in the middle of it.
The course is self-pacing and I took my time over about 5 months to finish the didactic--or, online written--component. During that time I contacted local hospitals, nursing homes and school systems to create my clinical plan. One must design their own, securing permissions from the clinical sites and lining up precepters. The summer was busier than I expected and I didn't get started until August, but I am plugging away at it.
Patient care has not really changed. Equipment has changed somewhat, as to be expected. Computer technology has changed the most. In my hospital, one unit still has handwritten charting identical to what I remember, but the rest incorporate 75-90% computerized charting. Pros and cons are probably obvious; it is what it is, and I...am learning. The patients are the best part. They are why I remained an RN for now 27 years.
I am trying to make the best of every hour. In the last few weeks, besides all of the skills performed, I've been blessed to help on a delivery, instruct a new Mom how to nurse her baby, watch a little brother see his baby sister for the first time, help older patients ambulate, and simply encourage people. The bonds with new co-workers are forming swiftly and I am happy to be doing this again. Bruce is managing the home very well while I'm away and the welcome home I get after each shift is priceless. "Why are you in that costume, Mom?" I tell them I am a nurse and they smile proudly and run and tell their siblings.
It is all working out. I am still Mom and I love that the most. At a time such as ours with the economy shaky, it is the right time to reclaim my hard-earned RN. Mary Pat's LPN's have been my inspiration. They are some of the hardest working and loving individuals I have known. There are two local schools of nursing and I would like one day to help to educate future nurses like them.
So this "old dog" is indeed learning new tricks, as well as re-learning some old ones. There is a Chinese proverb that says that you should "take your dragons to tea." I am. This is a little scary, but it is very, very rewarding.
All is well on the farm.
For RNs thinking about a refresher course, I highly recommend it. Yes, it's a bother, but for good reason. The toughest part is the required number of clinical hours. For Maryland it's 80, but for Kansas it's 180. That's a significant amount of time away from family--without pay! But it must be done and so I am in the middle of it.
The course is self-pacing and I took my time over about 5 months to finish the didactic--or, online written--component. During that time I contacted local hospitals, nursing homes and school systems to create my clinical plan. One must design their own, securing permissions from the clinical sites and lining up precepters. The summer was busier than I expected and I didn't get started until August, but I am plugging away at it.
Patient care has not really changed. Equipment has changed somewhat, as to be expected. Computer technology has changed the most. In my hospital, one unit still has handwritten charting identical to what I remember, but the rest incorporate 75-90% computerized charting. Pros and cons are probably obvious; it is what it is, and I...am learning. The patients are the best part. They are why I remained an RN for now 27 years.
I am trying to make the best of every hour. In the last few weeks, besides all of the skills performed, I've been blessed to help on a delivery, instruct a new Mom how to nurse her baby, watch a little brother see his baby sister for the first time, help older patients ambulate, and simply encourage people. The bonds with new co-workers are forming swiftly and I am happy to be doing this again. Bruce is managing the home very well while I'm away and the welcome home I get after each shift is priceless. "Why are you in that costume, Mom?" I tell them I am a nurse and they smile proudly and run and tell their siblings.
It is all working out. I am still Mom and I love that the most. At a time such as ours with the economy shaky, it is the right time to reclaim my hard-earned RN. Mary Pat's LPN's have been my inspiration. They are some of the hardest working and loving individuals I have known. There are two local schools of nursing and I would like one day to help to educate future nurses like them.
So this "old dog" is indeed learning new tricks, as well as re-learning some old ones. There is a Chinese proverb that says that you should "take your dragons to tea." I am. This is a little scary, but it is very, very rewarding.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Ebbs and Flows and the Farmer's Spirit
It amazes me that a year ago I shared pictures of the flooding Missouri River. Farms were ruined, families moved because of it. Those who stayed planted crops that, up until May, were doing great. Then the drought hit. Luckily, most harvested an early hay crop. But the corn that started off so energetically, a foot high by June, barely produced any ears and was dry by early August. God bless those farmers who persevered after the flood only to be hit by a drought the next season.
Hay has doubled in price. There is less of it. I believe hopes of a second cutting were unfulfilled. It's a vicious cycle because the cattle still need to be fed. We normally don't start feeding hay until November. We have begun already. Food prices will soar because of the limited hay and corn crops. If you didn't know it, corn products and by-products are in many, many foods.
It is good if you can put in a garden for your family or be a member of a local community supported agriculture group. We have the latter here in town and we're members. I'm glad to support the local farmers. I keep thinking I'll get a garden in "this year," but it always seems to turn into "next year." It will happen one day. Mary Pat's school-bus driver tells me about her prolific garden. She crochets a blanket for her grandchild while Mary Pat is being strapped in, and she tells me all about it. Each year she puts up hundreds of quarts of vegetables. Her hard work and self-sufficiency inspire me.
The farmers do, too. Our neighbors have been farming for generations. Vince helps us set round bales (giant five and a half foot diameter hay bales) with his big tractor. One day the front axle broke as he was lifting the bale high. Vince, almost 70, popped down, rubbed his chin and just stared. I was impressed with his calm. I told him I'd probably be react by whining and fussing. He just looked at me with wise, clear eyes and said, "But that wouldn't change things." He turned back to the tractor and continued thinking out loud, "I have a brother with a welder, and I'll just get this off and have him help..." Later on I told his wife how thankful I was that it had happened at such a slow speed and not as he was driving over here. She said, "Well, we would've dealt with that, too." I pushed, "But Vince could have been hurt!" She answered with the same calm as her husband. "We're farmers--that's part of farming life and we deal with what comes."
Deal with what comes. A farmer I'd mentioned last fall during the floods was one who had to move. He's moved yet again to another farm on higher ground. He and his wife are happy. It could have been so much worse. They have each other and their family. And this new farm is actually closer to her parents and her church. It is probable that his crops have not done well this year. But I bet he'd be thankful that they weren't wiped out like last year.
A verse in the Bible has been lived out by the farmers I know: "Be anxious for nothing, but by prayer and supplication make your requests known to God. And the Peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." (Phillippians 4:6-7)
I'd do well to remember that.
God bless you,
Suzy
The Abbey Farm
There are ways to support our country's farmers both locally and on a larger scale...check out Farm Aid. And don't forget to keep them in your prayers.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Seasons of Life
My friend, Christy (http://artisanfarmsteadliving.blogspot.com), shared a soothing piece of wisdom. We were discussing all of the things we've accomplished or attempted, and how puzzling that each of those experiences was not active in some way in our present lives. For example, in the past I've baked cakes for weddings and for a restaurant. She's crafted and sold handmade dolls. We've each tried various diets (macrobiotic, low-protein, low-carb) but have not settled on "the one way of eating." I've actively foxhunted, ridden competitively and run races, but am not now. Of course, we agreed, you can't do everything. But I have felt that I should be incorporating most things, especially if they were healthy, helpful, or fun. If I'm not doing "it all," shouldn't there at least be some evidence of having done or learned these things?
I have wondered that at my age, shouldn't I be a lot further along in peaceful, organized self-actualization? Will I finally feel I'm "there" when I'm 80? The last two months have been busy on The Abbey Farm. Christmas, illnesses, two new ponies, a new goat, two new puppies, a teen with a lead part in a play, new renters, and tragically, the death of a precious friend.
Writing, usually a joy to me, fell by the wayside.
The comforting piece of wisdom from Christy was this: It is natural that we go through "seasons" in our lives. The phases and experiences are like individual puzzle pieces. They may fit together well at one time or another, but the reality is that at times a piece is dropped off the table. For each season, the puzzle of our life looks a little different. The pieces on the floor are not reminders of failure, but of richness of experience.
Once upon a time I dreamed with my Mom of owning a Bed and Breakfast together. We took a Mother-Daughter trip to New England in autumn and stayed at a beautiful B&B. We had a memorable time laughing and planning. Life, however, went in a different direction. Mom passed away a decade later and our plans never materialized.
I may not be doing everything the way I thought I would at this point, but who is? Life is good. It is busy, it is challenging, and though I may not do it all well, humility and thankfulness are the greatest lessons learned.
What season are you in? Is it challenging? I pray that God gives you the grace to trust Him; that however your path goes, it ultimately brings Him great glory, and you salvation. We are all works in progress.
God Bless you,
Suzy
The Abbey Farm
When we bought this farm, it had most recently been used as a Bed and Breakfast. I am now entertaining and working and cooking every day for the people I adore most--my family. I do make plenty of breakfasts. Perhaps I got my B+B afterall. And Mom's looking down from heaven smiling!
I have wondered that at my age, shouldn't I be a lot further along in peaceful, organized self-actualization? Will I finally feel I'm "there" when I'm 80? The last two months have been busy on The Abbey Farm. Christmas, illnesses, two new ponies, a new goat, two new puppies, a teen with a lead part in a play, new renters, and tragically, the death of a precious friend.
Writing, usually a joy to me, fell by the wayside.
The comforting piece of wisdom from Christy was this: It is natural that we go through "seasons" in our lives. The phases and experiences are like individual puzzle pieces. They may fit together well at one time or another, but the reality is that at times a piece is dropped off the table. For each season, the puzzle of our life looks a little different. The pieces on the floor are not reminders of failure, but of richness of experience.
Once upon a time I dreamed with my Mom of owning a Bed and Breakfast together. We took a Mother-Daughter trip to New England in autumn and stayed at a beautiful B&B. We had a memorable time laughing and planning. Life, however, went in a different direction. Mom passed away a decade later and our plans never materialized.
I may not be doing everything the way I thought I would at this point, but who is? Life is good. It is busy, it is challenging, and though I may not do it all well, humility and thankfulness are the greatest lessons learned.
What season are you in? Is it challenging? I pray that God gives you the grace to trust Him; that however your path goes, it ultimately brings Him great glory, and you salvation. We are all works in progress.
God Bless you,
Suzy
The Abbey Farm
When we bought this farm, it had most recently been used as a Bed and Breakfast. I am now entertaining and working and cooking every day for the people I adore most--my family. I do make plenty of breakfasts. Perhaps I got my B+B afterall. And Mom's looking down from heaven smiling!
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