Excitement is mounting

The other day, when DD and I were in the city looking for Hallowe'en stuff for her for school, I couldn't help but notice the Christmas decorations beginning to make their appearance in the stores- just ready for the Hallowe'en stuff to be gone to make room! And I got excited!

My shopping has begun.  And just this morning I said to My Sweetheart, "Oh, I can hardly wait until you open your present!"  I know he'll love it!  I just know it! I've been buying his gift in stages. The first stage was the main part of the present.  And every time I have gone (or is it went?) to the city since then, I have been adding other parts to his gift, and sneaking them home, and having so much fun doing it.  I still have a few more stages of his gift left to buy!

And then, the other day when I opened the porch door, I couldn't help but smiling thinking that as soon as the calendar page gets flipped to November, the autumn wreath will come down - to be replaced with the Christmas wreath.

We had waffles yesterday.  The waffle irons are stored in the same cabinet as the krumkakke iron. I smiled when I saw that too- krumkakke making, lefse rolling, cookie baking - November is the month!

The other night I put my new Michael Buble Christmas CD in the little stereo by my side of the bed.  We fell asleep to "feliz navidad" - I am so grateful that My Sweetheart loves Christmas as much as I do. He might not appreciate the early Christmas music in our home otherwise!

I told Dear Son that we had bought a Christmas gift for him too - just to bug him! I must wrap that soon!

Darling Daughter has a couple gifts hidden away for her too - I had to buy them when I saw them- she will love them!  Oh, I am so excited!

The excitement is mounting here on the farm!





Heaven's Declaration

"What's so great about living in Saskatchewan?" the question was posed to me, from a curious friend of my sister-in-law's, while visiting in Beautiful British Columbia a month ago.

What's so great?

"The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of His hands..."  Psalm 19:1

"Let all the trees sing for joy"  Psalm 96:12

"Be exalted O God, above the heavens,

let Your glory be over all the earth"  Psalm 57:11

"So here I am in the place of worship, eyes open,

drinking in Your strength and glory." Psalm 63:2

"for great is Your love, higher than the heavens,

Your faithfulness reaches to the skies.."  Psalm 108:4

Early mornings in Saskatchewan. Beautiful sunrises. Thousands of geese. Creation praising God.  Open skies. Space. God's beauty. Beauty that is apparent in every province.  Even Saskatchewan.

The Flannel Sheets

I did something today that I haven't done in a long time. This morning, after picking up My Sweetheart from the south farm (he had taken the 1 ton truck down there and needed to be picked up, brought home so he could take the back-hoe down to move some big, really big rocks) I crawled back into bed. And I wasn't even sick!

But I had had a horrible sleep.  So, I think, it was warranted. I tossed and turned last night, fitfully, for at least an hour, replaying the fact that I had run over a kitty. And then, when My Sweetheart was rubbing my feet, he discovered an ugly thing on the back of my calf. The calf of my leg - just to clarify. So, between thinking of the poor kitty and the ugly thing on the back of my calf, sleep was a long time in coming. But it came. And went. I woke up, a little while after falling asleep,with a horrible headache. I must admit, though, that I am quite spoiled. My Sweetheart heard my softly whimpering and he jumped up to get me the cold cloth for my forehead and the advil. I just laid in bed and waited for the medicine and cloth to take effect. It took longer than I would have liked.

So, when it was time to get up, I wasn't ready.  But I got up anyway. And then I went back to bed. And slept like a log for 2 hours. Before I crawled back into bed I had stripped the bed and put the flannel sheets on - a sure sign that winter is just around the corner. Those flannel sheets were sure cozy to crawl in to!



Friday night on the farm

After a busy day in the city with my mom, running to the school to wrap up a jewellery party, making a quick healthy supper of chicken fajitas on whole wheat wraps, I am now sitting down, at the computer, in a very quiet house.  It will be quiet, I suppose, until the next big play in the final game of the World Series.  Then I expect to hear some whooping and hollering, depending on who does how, by My Sweetheart. He, and DS, sure did some whooping and hollering last night anyway.  I really don't care. I was happy and content to be able to watch Extreme Makeover Home Edition on my smaller TV upstairs.

DS and DD are at youth group.

Bentley is sleeping on the floor beside me - totally played out from a day of running, exploring, playing, tormenting Chico, tormenting Lady, tormenting the cats - hey, that reminds me...

Yesterday morning, after DD got on the bus, I looked out the garden door window and saw a dead cat, curled up, in the position she had died, in the hedge.  I was heart broken. It was, after all, 2 of her babies who had perished the same week - 1 of them had been run over while out hunting, I'm assuming, and the other succumbed to injuries inflicted after a tree fall-poor thing...I'm pretty sure the dead cat, laying in the hedge, had died from a broken heart. That's what I imagined anyway.
So, I called Dear Son to the garden door to have a peek, and yes, he agreed.  Poor Mama  Cat.

I checked an hour later.  She was still dead. An hour after that- she hadn't moved. I don't do well with dead animals on the farm.  I avoid them. Darling Daughter can pick up deceased kittens, prepare them for burial, bury them.  I just can't. And My Sweetheart was in town, shingling the church roof with some other men from the congregation.

So, before I went to town, to take an apple crisp (my donation to the potluck lunch for the hard-working men) I took 1 last glance at poor Mama Cat. She was dead.

I told My Sweetheart all about it when I saw him.

When he came home, the first thing he did was head to the front lawn, to do whatever he needed to do with the body. It wasn't there. One of the dogs must have done something with it.  That was a gross thought.

The guys were outside working when supper was ready, so when I stepped out to call them in, guess who was on the front step?  The dead mama cat.  Except she was very much alive. I was dumbfounded and overjoyed.  I could NOT believe my eyes. But it was her.

So, now the puzzle. Did she come back to life? Had she been unconscious? I'll never know.  But I'm thinking of switching her name to Lazarus. Might be a step up from "Grey Mama Cat".

Back to my Friday night story.  Bentley is still sleeping on the floor by my feet, My Sweetheart is hunkered downstairs in front of the big screen, DD and DS are still at youth group, Chico is guarding my slippers while she sleeps, and I'm enjoying this Friday night on the farm.

Stages and Seasons

13-14 years ago this empty paper towel roll would not have stood a chance. It would have been 'eyed-up' before it was empty. Just waiting.  Waiting to be grabbed by a little boy with a vivid imagination. It would have been transformed into a sword. Made into a turret of a cereal-box castle. It could have morphed into a magic flute with black-felt marker keys. Even a pirate spy-glass. The possibilities were endless. The imagination was vast.

And, thankfully, that little boy had the help of a TV program called 'crazy quilt.' All kinds of craft ideas were presented on that show. And DS watched it faithfully. With My Sweetheart.  And with me.

I was useless when it came to crafts. I hated 'art' in elementary school. The feel of glue on my fingers was disgusting. Marks, from felt markers or crayons, on my hands were not appreciated. I couldn't draw.  Still can't. My creative projects, back then, were, I think, just something that needed to be done.  By me, for the teacher. They weren't done willingly. Rather, begrudgingly. I would have rather had 'music' class - all day long, if I could. But, I had to suffer through art.

And then we had kids. Our first born LOVED, LOVED, LOVED creating anything out of practically nothing. He'd see something that wasn't  being used, even from a very young age, and he would need to make something out of it. We even had a craft drawer. I never would have imagined, when I was younger, that I would ever have a craft drawer. It was filled to the brim with glue- ugh!, crayons, markers, stickers, pipe cleaners, paper- plain and construction, scissors, glitter, yarn, paint.  You name it- if it was crafty, it was in that drawer.

We had a stash of egg cartons, empty cereal boxes, toilet paper rolls, and paper towel rolls. Every day there was some sort of childish architecture going on in the farm kitchen.  Every day old newspapers were spread out on the table, aprons were donned, glue, crayons, markers, stickers, pipe cleaners, paper, scissors, glitter, yarn and paint were spread on the table.  And imagination took over.

I can't believe how quickly that season of life  has disappeared. At times, when I was in the midst of the glue mess, I thought it would never end. But it has.  That stage, followed by others, has come and gone. Too fast.

I could be sad about that, but I'm not. I'm thankful for every season of life that DD and DS have experienced. I'm looking forward to the stages yet to come. And I'm thankful for the memories that are triggered by empty paper towel rolls.

"to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven..."  Ecclesiastes 3:1



My Heart Was Warmed

There's something to be said for rural schools.  At least, there's something to be said for the school where Dear Son and Darling Daughter attend.

This afternoon, when I went to the school to teach some very cute little students piano lessons, my heart was warmed by what I witnessed.

I got to the school just after lunch was over - just in time for the students to be back in class. Well, most of the students were in class.  All the students were in their classrooms except for the youngest class and the grade 11 class. Scattered throughout the hallway, on floors, in the forum, on couches and chairs, were the little kids - partnered up with the big kids.  The big kids - the grade 11's were buddied up with the little kids - the kindergartners, grade 1's and grade 2's. Dear Son was reading to the youngest kindergartner, Bret.  Bret is still 4.  DS is almost 17. And there they were, huddled closely together, reading and being read to - together.

And further down, at the forum area, 1 of the little girls was snuggled on the knee of 1 of the 'big kids' - one of the grade 11 high school girls.  They were snuggled. Reading and being read to. Heart warming.

I didn't dare disturb my piano students. How disappointing would THAT be - to be yanked from such a neat experience - for a piano lesson? I'm convinced that both age groups learned so much from that experience. An experience that is, I think, lacking from the bigger, urban schools, where students are separated into high schools, middle schools and elementary schools.

In our little school the big kids and the little kids quite often do things together.  Christmas parties. Games. And reading.

When the reading time was finished - I only had to wait 10 minutes - I watched some of the little kids hug the big kids. My heart was warmed all over.

And then, I was able to take some of these sweet, little, impressionable, dear students to the piano. How fun! And my heart was warmed even more!

Through Me

"God is not interested in what you can do for Him,
He's only interested in what He can do through you."  Woodrow Kroll

As I was heading into town last night for "back to school" night, a night to 'meet' the teachers and listen to presentations, I caught the tail end of 'Back to the Bible' on the local radio station. And what I heard in the last few minutes, the only portion of the broadcast that I heard, will not leave my mind.  "God is not interested in what you can do  for Him, He's only interested in what He can do through you."

That takes the pressure off, doesn't it? We don't have to 'give it our all' or 'try to impress' or ... or what?
God wants a willing heart. He wants obedience. He wants me to be willing to offer up myelf to Him so He can do what He wants through me. In spite of me. For His glory and purpose alone.

Just think of all the people who let God work through them.

Moses. God's strength and power shone through Moses. Moses was a stutterer. He wondered why Pharoah would listen to him, of all people. Yet, he did what God wanted him to do. He let God work through him.  And a whole nation of people was saved. The ten commandments were delivered through a willing vessel. A man who questioned God - 'why would Pharoah listen to me, a stutterer?'

Paul - aka Saul. A hater of Christ followers. Intent on killing Christians. Feared by Christians.  But God wanted to work  through him. And  through this Christian hating, feared by many man - whose life was transformed when he encountered the Living God, the lives of millions and millions and millions of Christians, since the time the New Testament has been in their hands, have been encouraged by his writings.

What about today?  What about the people whose lives are an open testament to God's grace?  People who let the Lord shine through them? People who aren't doing things for God, per se, but who let God work through them?  Anyone come to mind?

What about Nick Vujicic?  Have you heard about him? Google him.  Watch him on youtube.  You'll be amazed at what God has done and is doing through him. A young man, born without arms and legs - he attempted suicide at a very young age. What could he offer? Now he has a world-wide ministry - God is taking him where arms and legs can't. And God is glorified through this willing, humble, amazing man.

Bethany Hamilton?  Heard of her? World class surfer - surfing without an arm. All because of "Christ in her- the hope of glory."

What about me?  What can God do  through this stay-at-home-mom/farmgirl/home-maker? I believe God can be glorified  through  me if I let him. If I am willing to 'die to self' and live for Christ, He will
be honoured and glorified.

I encourage you to search the Scriptures. See how amazing Jesus is!  Open your life to Him.  Let Him be glorified through you.

My Morning with John

I was first introduced to the glorious music of John Rutter when I was in college. No, that's not true - high school was when I first heard a piece by him.  In fact, when I sang in the concert choir in high school we ended each performance with "the Lord bless you and keep you" - a beautiful benediction arranged by John Rutter. But at that time in my life I didn't pay close attention to who wrote what.

But college was different. Hearing, and being part of the ensemble that sang Rutter's Requiem,and other choral pieces by him, was perhaps the highlight, or at least 1 of the main highlights, of my college career.

And now, that I'm older, I celebrate the beginning of Christmas by listening to a CD of Christmas Carols by John Rutter- performed by the Cambridge Choir.

I'm not a 'bucket list' type of person, mainly because I'm not adventurous and have a hidden secret desire to do weird things like bungee jumping before I die, but I do have 1 thing on my bucket list. Not that I have a bucket list. However if I did have a bucket list  the one thing on it for me to do before I die would be to hear the Cambridge Singers in England. And hopefully to hear them sing some Rutter.

This morning I was listening to one of my Rutter Christmas CD's. And while listening I was back in the music wing at college with some of my fellow music major friends. What an amazing time in my life. I miss certain aspects of college life. The music.  The friendships. The singing of "Rutter" with some terrific singers. The Christmas concerts.  Octet. Rehearsals. The Bosendorfer.

I'm glad for the memories.  Glad to have been able to experience the amazing 'things' for lack of better word, that I've been able to experience with the people I've experienced them with.

But along with the memories I am able to reflect upon, I am also grateful for the memories that I am making. Some day down the road perhaps one of the memories that DS and DD will have will be the memory of 'Mom listening to  Christmas music so early in the year..' I hope that if that is a memory they do  have,  it will be a memory that will make them smile. Much like I have been doing all morning long while listening to Rutter.



Homecomings

It's good to be back in the world of blogging. I've missed it.  I've missed interacting with the people who respond in some way to my blogs. And now that I'm back home I will be trying to be more diligent in my blogging.

On my way home today, from a funeral, I was contemplating what to blog about.

Do I write about the great time at the wedding? Or about being told, while in BC, that I look way too fashionable to be from Saskatchewan?  Is that a compliment?  Or an insult to Saskatchewan women? Are we stereotypical "coveralls and workboot women" who live on a farm and milk cows while covering our hair with a bandana just because we live on the prairie?

Do I blog in response to the question posed to me, while still in BC, 'why would you want to live there??? What's so great about Saskatchewan?'  Hmmm......

Maybe I could blog about something that threw me off guard today - while handing cash to the server at BP's, where I picked up the take-out pizza that I had ordered after the funeral, the grumpy looking server asked me if I wanted my change.  Seriously?  They want tips now for pick-up? Really??

I could write about how my family fared just fine without me here for a week. That's good and bad from my perspective.  Good because, obviously, my family, and especially Dear Son, who was home,manning the fort so to speak, by himself when the rest of us were at the coast, did not go hungry.  My family was able to cook, do laundry, clean the house, take care of the 3 dogs, 1 goldfish, 2 frogs, 1 rabbit, and 14 cats - all without me here.  And bad, for the same reasons.  I am not needed. They can function just fine without me. But, they want me! They were all happy to have 'Mom' back home. And that is good. My Sweetheart missed me the most I think, judging from the bouquet of lovely flowers, and the bouquet of roses - 2 bouquets!!!  He really missed me.

Bentley wasn't sure who I was.  It took him a few minutes. Then he went crazy! Maybe he missed me more than My Sweetheart did!  Chico, poor soul, was so overcome with emotion that she ran under the desk and shook. She was so worked up all she could do was shake.  And then she cried.  Yes, dogs cry. And then she begged to be lifted up and snuggled.  She wouldn't leave my side after that. Chico missed me too!

It is a powerful feeling - to be loved so much and to recognize the sheer joy of people - people who are happy to have you back home after being away. Homecoming, I think, is the best thing!

Last night I sang at the gala for the Homecoming of my high school's 100th birthday. In a sense I felt like I was 'coming home' to the school where I spent 3 years of my life.  A boarding school. It was good to see a few familiar faces.

Today I was at a funeral. The man who died was an evangelist. He had led many many people to the Lord in his lifetime. His death was, for him, the ultimate "homecoming" - can you imagine what it must have been like for him, when he took his first breath of new life in Heaven, and Jesus looked him in the eyes and said, "welcome HOME, my good and faithful servant."?  What a homecoming for him!


Coming home.  Going home. Welcome home.