Month: April 2007

to stay ahead of boys. And even a semi conscious state of prayer blesses a mom and gives practical wisdom. I have to stop and thank the LORD often for His intercession on my behalf. I suppose I’d lose my mind, otherwise—that, or I’d sure lose a lot of ground each day.

It was out on the counter… I know, probably beckoning the boys to go by and take a piece or two. And, you know, it wouldn’t have been so noticeable had a knife not been utilized in the removal of bit of the ham. I’d probably hardly take notice of a couple of bits of ham missing. But the knife… that was blatant. So I told the few gathered around me that there are just some lessons in life that need to be learned—not to just hear, but to hear and heed!

So, I had to use some “boy examples” to get my point across—and mom’s have to talk quick, keep rapt attention and be relevant. Well… I remembered that after I gave a couple of girl examples—one being, the example of having six hard-boiled eggs in a pan and an egg plate that will hold 12 deviled eggs. If a boy comes in and eats just one of the boiled eggs, the egg dish will not be complete. So I told them that when things are on the counter, you can just look at them… no touching. Like—don’t touch the eggs or when there’s a ham on the counter and you see it is sitting next to the soup kettle on the stove, don’t touch it—it’s got a use. Well, I saw that I was met with sort of glazed eyes and I could sort of see there might be a response coming… “And so, would you have to boil more?” I nodded and squinted a bit and said, “yes, yes you would.”

Okay… it was time to utilize man sort of logic… so I told them, it’s sort of like hood ornaments on big guys’ trucks. You just don’t touch em. They are not even to be used, in reality. They’re just to look at—it’s something everyone knows: you just don’t touch them. If you’re building a picket fence and you need one hundred pickets, if I just come by and take a couple for some woodstove kindling, that will totally wreck finished appearance of the fence you’re attempting to complete. If you go to someone’s home, do you just go in and start eating their foods? If you’re making a pan of brownies, and I just come a take away the egg (and you don’t have anymore) then you cannot make the brownies.

“Oooo, that’d be so terrible.”

Seeing that I was getting somewhere, I noticed a sparkle in the eyes of one of the boys. And then he gave me an example he’d heard. He told me that guys have to learn when they get married that there are two kinds of towels in the bathroom. Some you use and some you never use. You gotta get that straight: the ones you never use.

I nodded. And I said, “Okay, then keep it straight: there’s some stuff you just don’t touch. Ever. And if you can, I’ll let you know.” That boy said, ” Or my wife will.”

I said, “Right… but get it straight before that happens. And… leave the rest of the ham alone… it’s for the soup for dinner.”

Elation in the kitchen… it’s hailing outside!

…have a garage sale again.  You know how I often say: write stuff down, for you will surely forget it?  Well, this day reminds me to write stuff down, lest I forget and fall into temptation.  So, the temptation was before me: should we have a garage sale or not?  So… I was thinking this morning: O, what was I thinking?  And then we had a couple of people come by and look at the things.

“What will you take for these?”
“Two dollars”
“O, that’s too much.”
“What?  I paid 40 x’s that much for those.”  (O, btw, that’s what I was thinking!)
Then I say… “Okay… one (1) dollar.”
“O, okay… I guess I could pay that much.”
“Riiiiiiigggghhhttt.”  (O, sorry… I  thought  that one, too)
And sweetly smiled and thanked the man profusely for coming by and parting with *ON*E* dollar.

“How much for the gate?
“Five dollars.”
“O, that’s too much.  I wanted wood.”
I’m smarter now… “O, I see. Sorry, we couldn’t help you there.”
“We need it for the dog.”
“Hmmm…” (I say, smiling)
“O, well…. I guess we’ll have to… keep looking…”
“Okaaaaay.  Sorry, Eeyore.  Have a nice day!”
(O, c’mon, I’m just kidding —I don’t know if the man’s name was Eeyore or not.  I *did* smile and tell them, Have a nice day!)
Here we have all this gloriously valuable stuff (well, maybe some of it is really junque) and we also have a rainy nice spot to set it out and, we do, after all, have all the traffic in the county driving by, so… how about a garage sale?  That was two days ago.

Today we’ve tarped and untarped, tarped and untarped… the showroom area. ~wink~  And people have stopped by and have parted with hard earned dollars quarters.   And the children have had opportunity to demonstrate sweet manners and self control (to not make comments about this or that “customer” and how much we originally thought we ask for this or that item) and to help keep things neat and orderly.  They’ve seen free enterprise at work—read: free.

So, I’m inside taking a break, reading mail, drinking a cup of Earl Grey Tea and eating a Zone bar… and decided to blog this day… so that perhaps someone can remind me, in case I forget… that I don’t ever want to ever have another garage sale ever again. Ever.  And I hope there isn’t a next time that I… blog on this.

Well, gotta go… it’s my turn to man the can of quarters cash box and greet the shoppers.   The greeting the shoppers really has been nice.  I’m thinking I’d be a whole lot better at just putting out a sign and say something like: Come by for a cup of tea… you don’t even have to buy it!

So, we came home from the wedding.  Whew… were we ever tired—long day of hurry-scurry and then it was over, the reception was all set up, served and cleaned up and we looked forward to a rest.  We’d had a whirlwind weekend with Timothy stopping in to spend the night and to leave while we were at the wedding.
We returned home and came in to see that Timothy had left notes on the counter before he headed back to Oregon to Mission’s/Bible school.

So on this sheet of paper I see an empty Top Ramen package with a note that read: See exhibit A:  (and the words) Ramen package with opening.  Then an arrow points to the portion of the package that was chewed.  On a second sheet there was a note that read: see exhibit B and an arrow pointed to a circle drawn on the page.  In the circle were tiny evidences that a mouse had been in the drawer.  Ah yes.  Boys.

The girls screamed and shrieked.  The boys practically passed out from laughing.

Ah, the pleasures of living in an old-old farmhouse.  And… O, the pleasures of boys.

It was such a strange day today. Strange bcz it was peculiarly quiet and strange bcz it was so cold… yet, bcz it was sunny out, the children were delighted to play all day—even the work was play for them today.

Yet another boy has mastered the mowing and was so thrilled to be making patterns in the grassy yard where the volleyball “court” is. I looked out to see him practically running as he eagerly mowed that portion of our yard. It was shear delight to him as he saw his work take shape and was utterly pleased with the outcome. I smiled as I thought of that little boy who, only recently it seems, was too short and not quite strong enough to use the mower. But now, an accomplished gardener! ~wink~ I stood there thinking to myself: wow…. this is now our sixth son to reach this milestone. Where did the time go?
I stood there a bit longer… different memories seemed to replay before me… I thought of volleyball games, tether-ball and kick-ball. I thought of the exuberant children playing “Red-Rover…” and all the running around. And then I thought of that yard that was, only a few months ago, covered in water and again I marveled at the swift passage of time.

As I walked around the yard to inspect all the rose bushes I was thrilled to see all the new shoots and leaves. O, the deep pruning each February always grips me… sort of like deep pruning in my own life and heart… deep down I wonder, will things ever grow again? And, as each Spring continues, the answer is obvious: yes. But you know… pruning a rose bush is sort of like giving a boy a haircut. You know you might make a mistake here and there, but eventually the hair grows a little and the smile on the face sort of covers over a lot of errors you might’ve made. So, also, the bushes will fill out and give you smiles and fragrance later. Speaking of smiling… I smiled at the old climbing rose bush – the one I dug up from Wes’ Dad’s ranch… the one that appeared to be dead through and through and yet I dug it up anyway and planted it a few years ago here in our yard. Well, not only was it *not* dead, it was to become the most prolific of all the roses in the gardens. Already divided several times, it’s a thrill to me to see just how alive it is! I think Dad would’ve marveled at these beautiful rose bushes! Well… beautiful is what they will be in a month or two. For now, some are recovering from their recent pruning.

Boys are often a bit too zealous to eliminate the old canes and the bushes sustain a pruning that’s a bit more aggressive than might have been necessary. But I like to have boys out there doing all sorts of phases of gardening so that they get a handle on the processes and the seasons and what to anticipate in each. This way, they sort of get in on the whole spectrum and see the results of proper pruning and well… the results of overly aggressive or improper pruning. Let’s just say that some years the bushes and the trees were given a nice long rest from producing fruit. And we go through a canning season and make no applesauce. I must confess, I was sort of glad the couple of years with no apples that I didn’t have sauce to can (but I regretted it months later when popping open jars of applesauce would have been a delectable treat!) So, when there’s been a very power-packed pruning job and I can see the trees are going to rest from producing any fruit… I tell the young men, in that case, the tree will be that much stronger next year. I try not to belabour the point… it’s just not worth it. They get it. Besides… we’re talking about trees. They’re just trees. Boys are surely more precious than trees.
So the boys are beginning to see they’re very capable and they’re also seeing how much they help me—and O, I let them know it. I’ve learned that there’s no such thing as heaping too much praise on a boy. Sort of like cups of milk and chocolate chip cookies… to a boy, there’s no such thing as too many of those, either. Well, at least they don’t think so, anyway.