Hold Outs

Welp…summer is certainly behind us for another year…in several days the calendar will boast that it’s October 1st which means “all things apple, pumpkin spice, caramel, donuts, hot autumn beverages, football games, blankets…sweatshirts, longer pants….” Most all associated with cooler temperatures that come with Fall, now front and center in my mind. 

This past week my good husband turned on the heat. Although it seems early, waking in the morning to feel the warmth in the house as I make my way to the coffee pot is very welcome. Admittedly, I am keeping my slippers by the bed, something I don’t necessarily do during the hot summer months. In fact, my slippers are usually covered up in the closet by summer’s choices of shoes! I like the changes that come with each season. I truly like “all things apple and pumpkin”…but I also like the ability to wear shorts or capris and my sandals…thus my photo. 

On Monday I woke to temperatures in the low 50s. The sky was gray with rain clouds covering our lil neck of the woods. Monday mornings you’ll find me in our church office working for a few hours at the front desk. The drive there is very short, not long enough for the heat in the car to warm up to a comfortable number. I toyed whether to cover my feet with socks and shoes…I really wanted to get a few more days with my favorite jean capris and my most recent pedicure with red toes for Fall! So, I did it. The photo is proof that I left the house sporting my summer hang out “look” on an early chillier-than-usual morning. 

I’m in good company with my sandals..several female friends at church have the same attitude regarding their feet…their choice of shoes…regardless of the weather. A couple of them make jokes about wearing sandals year round no matter rain, snow, slush, ice, or clear sunny skies.  I smile politely and let them enjoy their little quirk–I draw the line at having my feet get real cold or getting a “soaker” as we called it when we were kids, stepping into a puddle that rose up to our ankles.

Just this past weekend, my husband was left in charge of two grandchildren on a Saturday morning. While the 7 year old played inside contentedly, he had the 3 year old outside who is fascinated with the garden hose. Saturday was a mildly blustery day for late September. Rain threatened throughout the morning, the air was cold enough to require a warm jacket, certainly not your “typical let’s play in the water kinda day”….but to a grandpa and a 3 year old….let’s just say that as I drove up the driveway I was audience to our grandson holding the garden hose up to his face and mouth…jibber jabbering at the stream of COLD water pouring out on him and drenching his jacket, pants, and shoes. I questioned the wisdom of such folly only to be told “well, he’s already soaked one set of clothes….I threw everything of the kids stuff in the washer”….grandpas logic and playtime activities differ from gramma’s…but by the expressions on their faces, cold water, chilly air and soaked clothing and shoes–gramma’s common sense didn’t matter. I smiled, laughed, and went inside the house. Kids warm up. Clothes dry out (with some help) Memories last forever.

Yes, I have some summer holdouts. My sandals are one of them. It’s safe to say that most of the flowering plants are going dormant now…seed pods are forming which help to replenish the beds next year or provide a snack for our neighborhood birds and small critters. Some of the “dead” plants have been removed to the compost pile. Vegetable plants have been uprooted too. Their purpose is finished, too. In their place are remnants of what once was a vibrant green healthy plant or vine. Dead leaves have dropped to the ground and will slowly disappear into the dirt until next spring when I will “work” up the ground to get it ready for another “fresh start” in a season of new growth…and I will most likely wear a pair of older sandals while I embrace the promises of spring after enduring winter months that promise “hot beverages”…”blankets”….”jackets”…”snow boots”….”snow”….did I ever tell you how much I love snow?….till next time or the first snowfall! Hmmm….I wonder if anyone has ever tried to design a snow boot that looks like a sandal?

This jar of sourdough starter is not my actual  attempt of bringing up my own delectable concoction of water and flour that ferments and when added to other ingredients, turns out breads, pancakes, muffins, anything that spells cozy and comfort food. 

I’ve not had the best of luck in the past in the world of sourdough starter, but I am somewhat determined to give it another whirl. After all, flour is pretty inexpensive…our water is free and I have numerous jars in my pantry…plenty of counter space to let it have a cozy place of its own and pray for its magic to happen. Wanting to be able to create some tasty breads, once again I found myself searching the YouTube channel for a simple approach to this age-old practice that everyone says is easy. Well, my starter is almost 7 days old…I’m following the instructions…I’m seeing bubbles…and I’m keeping the “discard” on hand in the fridge because the gal in the video said “don’t throw that away! You can use it to make all sorts of wonderful things!” (some comments to the video said gals were even giving names to their starter–I didn’t commit to that, at least until I have “proof of life”….. Ok, I obeyed, and today I had enough discard on hand to begin wondering if it was time to search for a recipe to use some of it. Lo and behold, Google took me to a banana bread recipe. “I have those frozen,” I declared. Here, I’ll toss in a few frozen blueberries”…not enough of those to use in something other than a smoothie…who doesn’t like blueberries, right? So, as I type today’s blog, I have a loaf of banana bread baking in the oven. I’m praying it turns out yummy…(I’ll let you know next week how I fared)

Fall makes me want to make all things yummy. Pumpkin anything. Apple anything. Squash any…well, as a warm side dish with pork or turkey….I truly enjoy baking and now that cooler days are mixing in with the latter days of summer, having the oven on isn’t a hindrance to creating tried and true recipes or venturing into the world of ‘trying something new’.

When it comes to life’s adventures, I’m not as quick to try new things that require great risk. I am not a fan of roller coasters..or great heights…ladders still make my heart pound and jumping into a pool…well, those days are behind me. Last June, when we visited the southern rim of the Grand Canyon I paid close attention to my footing. I was happy to stand near an edge but NO way did I venture out onto some flat rocks where others made their way to get a different view. Um, no thank you. My view of this majestic handiwork from God was very comfortable staying away from slippery gravel and jagged rocks. I guess some would say I’m not very adventurous….maybe a bit scared or dull….whatever adjective you want to give me that doesn’t match your level of courage is okay with me. I’m content to live my version of dodging sandy soil and rocky edges experiences…

I have no idea how a new sourdough starter or life adventures tie in with one another. I guess it’s all due to my self reflection related to taking risks…big or small. Trying a new recipe isn’t the boldest or most exciting thing to pursue, but if it turns out real tasty, the payoff is worth the work! Taking a trip to the Canyon was a lifelong dream duly noted on my bucket list, checked off now and surrounded by photos and memories. 

Let’s hope that I can take a photo of the sourdough banana bread and check it off my list as “that was worth it”….”Sure is yummy”….”Glad this doesn’t need to be tossed in the garbage”….then I may actually come up with a name for my starter…any good ones to offer?

Back to School

August’s hot days and weeks are behind me now. Our air conditioning system is running less frequently as uncomfortable days from high temperatures are slowly making room for cooler mornings…another blanket on the bed at night…cozy slippers for chilly feet upon waking and crawling out of bed….it’s the third week of a new school year for most of our children–Phew!–I know of some who began their new grades in late August…at any rate, each year when kids return to school I, too, feel a “shift” in my emotions and thoughts…almost as though I will get to experience something new and exciting like a brand new school year!

Our oldest granddaughter has entered second grade. She loves school and takes each day very seriously. Unlike her gramma, she embraces math…like me she is excited to explore learning through science and social studies. Being in the gym or playground is on her top list because she loves to run, climb, and do endless cartwheels as she bounces across any surface with ease. As much as she likes school and doesn’t argue about getting up in the morning, she has admitted to her parents that second grade is “stressterating” (her own combination of stressful and frustrating)…it’s evident that everything she mastered in first grade is now being challenged with building on her early foundations of learning. All of us–parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, are assuring her that she will do well. We believe it and she does, too, now that nighttime prayers include speaking positive affirmations over her sleepy mind before laying her head on the pillow. “You are kind….you are a good learner….”

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When kids head back to school, I am reminded of something my mother once told me. She admitted that for the first few days all three of us kids had left for school, leaving her to an empty house, she felt lonely. I guess the chaos brought on by raising three growing noisy children…preparing endless meals including snacks, playing referee to childhood squabbles with neighbor kids….keeping track of everyone’s schedules left her with emotions of loneliness…perhaps a quiet home was too much too soon and  fed her feelings of missing us kids…now that I’ve had kids of my own…lived through their 12 years of education, I “get it”. What’s odd, though, is that our own children have been out of the house for awhile now…my own September lonely days without them are behind me, and yet, here…now…in the third week of September I have felt the return and effect of kids going back to school….I wonder why…

I truly have no idea why the experience of sending my kids back to school…and now, watching as our granddaughter walks that same path…soon to be followed by her younger brother and  few cousins less her age…evokes emotions that include surviving the heat of July and August to finding ways to occupy my time in the cooler days ushered in by September. Maybe the mere process of recognizing the “shift” is all part of a grand plan to keep me aware of each day’s opportunities for living life and fulfilling purpose…whether it’s waiting to hear a report on how second grade is going….being included in conversations about social studies or how many cartwheels were spun during recess.

Ya, August is behind us. We are living in September. Windows aren’t open as often. School doors have opened, welcoming back our precious babies who are eager to learn. Momma heartstrings are being tugged at as kids leave each morning… noisy goodbyes leave homes  quieter now until the final bell at the end of the day…

The school bus doesn’t stop at our home any more. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t long for those days that are now a thing of the past…what it does mean, though, is that with the gift of four precious grandchildren to love now, while I may not be waving goodbye as the bus pulls away, my hands are now folded in prayer for them every morning,,, that they will be protected, be loved, be kind, embrace learning…and not get too “stressterated”.  And that any melancholy feelings of my own will soon disappear into the calendar of the new school year…

“Most” of my best material for writing each week comes from things that our grandkids say…anyone who’s been around a toddler knows that every conversation is bound to include a mispronounced word that makes us chuckle…or some profound truth their developing mind is putting together…discovering something “new” every day in nature and adding vocabulary words as language comes…

We have four grandchildren and each one is very unique–rightfully so–because that’s the nature of God. He created us to be individuals…not cookie cutter people who walk around like robots or puppets being “controlled” by a master. I don’t have favorites–that’s a huge no-no in grandparenting–but it doesn’t mean that I don’t pick up on the funny little things they say…or in this case, endearing.

When our youngest lil ga Siss–as her parents lovingly nicknamed her–began talking I noticed that often she purposely would (still does) walk to one of her parents, look at me or my husband, and say in as much as an empathic voice a two year old can muster “that’s my momma”…”that’s my daddy”….It was precious to hear the first time and it still grabs at my heartstrings every time she goes through her lil spiel…usually accompanied by patting their shoulder or leg depending on being held or her desire to be “close”.

Her practice of making everyone around her know “who” these important people are in her life is priceless. From the time she was born, her parents have made sure she’s loved, protected, challenged, disciplined, and taught along each stage of development. Watching her learn and develop has been pure joy and thus, has me reflecting on the relationship between me and my Heavenly Father.

Psalm 71:5 says “For You are my hope; O Lord God, YOU are my trust AND the source of my confidence from youth”.

Like our son and daughter in law who have been entrusted with Mylah’s care…my Heavenly Father is over me…He surrounds me with good things. He loves me unconditionally. He has protected me in the past and I trust He will continue to do so for many more years. Even though it has been hard at times, He disciplined me…along with life lessons taught through people or scripture. I like to believe that He is well pleased with me, even on my worst days.

I wish–like little Siss–that I could lovingly pat my Father on the shoulder or sit on His lap while whispering “that’s my Daddy” as people around me gaze at us with love in their hearts, too…the same kind of love that swells inside me every single time Siss assures herself and onlookers exactly WHO her daddy and momma are….

No, I can’t physically “touch” God in a way that points or tells people who He is to me…but thankfully, with creative writing…with words and actions I CAN accomplish showing off my Daddy….giving Him praise for everything He has done for me, for my family, for friends. Like little Siss who is growing through the various stages of childhood that will usher her into being an awesome adult, I am being transformed from glory to glory as I gain deeper understanding and love for my Heavenly Father.

So, come with me to a family gathering. We are all standing around. Laughter fills the air…aromas of party food float through the room…God’s presence takes over every activity and conversation until it’s  quietly interrupted by a gentle whisper from someone in the room…”that’s my Daddy”. And we all look to see “Who” that precious person is….