Worth 15,000 Words

Just waiting around for a kiss...

Oh yes, fresh bread from fresh ground wheat... we are THOSE people.

Jewelry Making with Maam and Mimi

Happy Birthday to Shiloh!

Foxglove

Lemon Blossoms in the cold North

Letter from Daddy

New Paint

                                                         

Birds of a Feather

We might be birds of a feather if a bunch of these apply, not all, but the more the better!

You covet roadside berries.
You have taken long walks to see toads mating or other seemingly odd reasons to take a long walk to observe something in nature.
People aren't sure if you are a hippy or a religious fanatic.
If you are way too serious about God stuff.
If you think individual "communion" cups should be much larger and contain real wine and church should not always take place early in the morning, and it should probably be outside around a huge fire more often, but we shouldn't burn anything on it except wood that came from a tree that got knocked down in a storm....
If you think "foot washing" is figurative for cleaning houses.
If you love solitude and people.
If you often sound contradictory.
If money is necessary, but not a main motivation if at all possible.
If you think GMOs should be outlawed.
If you think handing your children over to the government is risky.
If you enjoy a documentary and/or a long biography.
If woodsmoke is aromatherapy.
You drink a pot of coffee a day.
Baking bread from scratch is not something the "superwomen" do, but good therapy.
You collect material and sewing machines.
You at least attempt to garden and occasionally can something.
The words "wives submit" might make your husband spit milk through his nose.
You believe that the Bible is a book of truth, but that it usually gets interpreted wrong.
You are a mystic, or want to be.
You love long, long talks around campfires.
You think that children are the most precious thing in the whole world, but you beg people to watch yours sometimes.
Mowing lots of grass makes very little sense.
You've counted the immature fruits on your fruit tree and your chickens before they've hatched.
If you think hospitality can't ever be overrated, but sometimes/often you don't answer your phone, and you hate pop-ins.
You know you don't make sense.
Only mean people and friends of mean people get unfriended, the depressive sorts make you feel connected, and the encouraging sorts really do make your day sometimes... sometimes they even make your whole life feel worthwhile.
You are a very, very relaxed housekeeper.
You aren't competitive or easily intimidated.
You are comfortable with your body type.
You prefer walking to running.
You consider yourself a goat person, or at least want to come to my house and milk my goats.
If you are a bit of a disappointed idealist.. or a poet.

Petite Ode to the Potty

Potty training, pull-ups, and pig tails... p, p, p.
A toddler, some treats, and a Suess book... wee, wee, wee.
I know I'm not the only mom that questions sanity.

Shedding a tear is common for the loss of infancy,
but diaper changing won't be missed, not by them or me.

Some were inspired by others,
some were inspired by age,
Some were inspired by cereal, but for now,
Organic chocolate bunnies are all the rage.

Curlers, Cartoons and Coffee

Curlers, cartoons and coffee... just the way it should be.
The summertime is upon us, lemonade and humidity.
The son is off for a week, camping out with friends.
The man of the house has a work-a-day job, for the meeting of the ends.
Just me and my girlie girls galore, for several hours each day.
With curly hair, and repeat shows, and java going my way!

Flirting With Empty

A little light to warn me
Some money in my purse
Juggling convenience
With time and chauffeur work
Could put it off no longer
The milk was also gone
Coffee black won't start my day
A key turn and a song
Perhaps I waited just too long
Perhaps I timed it right
The gas ran out before the trip
The wheel I still held tight
We coasted down a little hill
We gently turned the bend
No waiting cars to block us
Just a pump. I thank You, Friend!

Snow is Soothing

The snow is soothing in its coldness
Whiteness blanketing the mud
Seems oblivious to Mondays
Inaugurations and angry thugs

The snow is soothing in its silence
Ordinary, yet divine
Sacred to a singing mother
Praying long for peace with time

Snow is soothing in its power
Seasonal promise from the One
Flakes so steady, calming, gentle
Reminding me, be like a dove

Snow is soothing in its beauty
Like a virginal repose
Bursting soon into the springtime
Full of hetero, fruitful hope

Snow is soothing in its emotion
Seeming wholly not to care
About the whipping, bitter fury
Or the gleeful sledding pair

Snow is soothing in its splendor
Each snowflake unique, yet homo whole
Equality, a desert blanket
A silent snicker at man's dumb goal

"Always winter, never Christmas,"
Has a ring of wicked witch
Curses never fall forever
Blessings bloom through thin or thick

4-Wheel Drive

Reflection is good, until it becomes rumination. Reflection gives meaning and pauses to consider beauty and meaning. Rumination stagnates and paralyses. Reflection is productive thinking, rumination is over and over thinking.  Reflection looks back in order to move forward with improvement. Rumination causes the "wheels to spin in the mud." When my "wheels are spinning in the mud," it would be helpful to realize that this vehicle comes with "4-wheel drive." For me, the 4 wheels are probably as follows:

1. Music: I need music. Music is not so much a hobby or enjoyment for me as it is a need. "The garment of praise instead of the spirit of heaviness." For some, praise music is found in a specific genre, and to some extent I do think that there are genres that are not praiseworthy, but I believe that "every good and perfect gift is from above." There is a lot of "good" music out there, and so-called praise genres are not always spiritually edifying for me, sometimes they sound a lot like Job's friends. People that limit their genres to "Christian" probably wouldn't listen to the "Song of Songs" genre. Personally, I love anything that lifts me out of heaviness and into thankfulness.

2. Prayer: What a gift to be able to take absolutely everything to our divine benefactor and believe that we are cared for, "beyond what we could even ask or think." What a rest to be told that "all things will work together for good." ALL THINGS! I can't actually make a mistake, because when I hand it over to my God He makes it a non-mistake. The freedom that we are able to live in is a gift we can share with everyone around us, forgive them, pray for them. Sometimes, most of the time, forgiveness and suffering are holding hands. "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted." Don't over think suffering. Forgive, be soft, be compassionate, be broken, rest under the wings of the One who teaches the birds of the fields to build their nests, the One who clothes the lilies, the One who likes to count the stars, the hairs on your head, and the sands on the shore. My God is a savant, some may think of God as an idiot savant, but I don't, I think that God is the savant of idiots, able to make any idiot eternally useful.

3. Necessity: Some days my thoughts can run on and on limited only by the hours in the day, and necessity. I often think of Mary and Martha, sisters of Lazarus, as examples of love and duty. Perhaps the lesson is that duty should not trump those for whom we are dutiful. Perhaps duty should be embraced as a tool for reflection, rather than despised as an interruption from spinning thoughts. Any way that we focus on necessity isn't going to change the fact that there are things to do that are necessary, but seeing those things as reflective is helpful for me.


4. Love: The crux of every matter. Perhaps love is more than a wheel, perhaps love is also the vehicle and the road and the destination and the sunrise and the sunset and the air we breathe and the breathe of life and the hope that is the reason of the Ages, perhaps without love there is nothing except "darkness over the face of the deep."

Just Because

I have a man who loves me
I think he's very sweet
He puts up with my foibles
He thinks I am a treat

I have a man that I love
I think he is the bomb
He has awesome hobbies
He fills my life with song

What a lucky combo
Married to our friend
We think we won the lotto
We hope it never ends

Thanks, Carolyn!

One of the advantages of being a home educating mom up late at night on Facebook is that there are other home educating moms up late at night on Facebook, and sometimes they say cool things like, "We just came in from watching a lot of meteors flash across the night sky..." Which gives others of us cool ideas like, "I wonder if I could see some meteors if I go outside?" And sometimes we can even entice our husbands to get off the cozy couch and away from the interesting show on the tele and join us outside in the freezing cold wintry air to stare at the starry sky.... which is what we found ourselves doing. The stars began to shoot and shoot and shoot and we were delighted and then I felt a little guilty... What kind of home educating parents watch a meteor shower in the freezing cold nearly midnight air while their children are tucked up warm and snug in their cozy beds? So I marched upstairs and stood in the girl's bedroom, I was still bundled like an Eskimo (well, maybe not quite like an Eskimo, but I was wearing a coat and scarf), and I sort of whispered, "Is anyone awake?" Avé politely answered, "Sort of..." I told her what we were up to and she said, "Cool!" And hopped out of bed and found a bathrobe and blanket and a few other essentials and came outside to join us. That was when I notified her that this was school... she scoffed... and said she had to go to the bathroom and I asked if she had a hall pass and she was like, "What?" That was when Chester wandered out, like a bat at noon, stumbling and giggling, his eyes not being adjusted, but his dad and I had adjusted eyes, adjusted enough to see that he was in short sleeves... he was sent directly back into the house to find a coat and when he returned Jason invited Chester to share his chair, because Jason wanted to see a few more shooting stars with his son, but needed some extra warmth! That was when I began to wax reflective and shared that I had a strong feeling that the stars were like angels, and then one shooting star actually appeared to have wings! And then I said, "What if they began to sing?!" And Chester was like, "What?" And I said, "It has happened, the sky being filled with singing angels... Can you imagine? If those stars just burst into song? Wouldn't that be scary? I wonder how the shepherds kept from passing out for fear?" And Chester said, "They had scarier things in their lives than we have in ours." And I was like, "Scarier things than a sky full of singing angels?" And Chester said, "No, they dealt with scarier things than we deal with. They tended sheep and had to chase away bears and other large animals and all we have to deal with are rats." And I saw his point. I said, "I'm probably going to blog about this." Chester said, "Oh well..." Then he said, "The closest thing that people in the city have to seeing shooting stars like this is helicopters." And I said, "Yes, it takes darkness to see light." And Jason said, "Well, folks, I'm freezing." Avé continued watching stars for a few more minutes with our trusty dog, and before long we were all inside, thankful for shooting stars and a warm home, and I had to blog quick, because I was pretty sure I'd forget something by morning... I probably already forgot something... but it was special.

Representing or Poetry in Motion Pictures

if you like my poems let them by E. E. Cummings

if you like my poems let them
walk in the evening,a little behind you

then people will say
"Along this road i saw a princess pass
on her way to meet her lover(it was
toward nightfall)with tall and ignorant servants."

Black Friday Sale

On Black Friday, Jason and I went shopping, at the Farmer/Flea Market. We bought yummy foods like plums and romanesco and organic Winesap apples, and I also spied this lovely red tray with a Victorian silhouette of a lady walking her dog. The tray was filled with some odd little items like partially burnt candles in vintage boxes and a little white rabbit. I loved it! Jason inquired about the price and for one dollar we became the proud owners of the tray and all its stuff! I just knew that somebody at home would appreciate our purchase and I wasn't mistaken. Hazel has been counting and sorting and singing "Happy Birthday" with her little candles and her fun little tray since yesterday, and I am imagining all the happiness those candles brought to some one else once upon a time...

Windows and Saint Elsewheres

We thank Thee Lord for Jason,

his hobbies we all love,

and also, Lord, for these dear folks

and all their familial hugs.

Letta and her smile

Aaron and his song

Faith and her puppies

Sweet Greg, the whole day long

Becky and her Alle

Michael and his phone

Jordan and his presence

Warming up our home

Heidi and her fuzzy scarf

Guenie without a key

Shiloh in her glory

Chester and Oliver make three

Avé and her lemon pie

Destiny and her love

Savannah and her chocacorns

Little Hazel dove

Patti, Bob and yummy corn

Lovely Nicole and Samaria, too

A crisp autumn day and cheerful words

Blue skies and sun on cue

And many more close to our hearts

Far from our hearth and street

for lack of pics of those near and far

I write this poetreat.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving Day, and a few thoughtful people took some photos, but I was not one of them. Today I noticed that there was still beautiful energy in the house, a lingering festivity, and some time to capture a few glimpses. So, I committed the names of the precious people to memory in poetry and the place I captured in photos... the food, on the other hand, I only captured with my winter weight! And what a lot of food it was. Nobody did everything, but everybody did something, and together we feasted and gave thanks!

And Hazel is still in a great mood! Apparently, parties with pie and nice people make her feel like celebrating in her own unique way for days :-) I think that our pooch, Coffee, was just hoping that she didn't celebrate too much in his direction!

Fly Away Home

A little finch looking for birdseed
flies away.
Madame Cardinal, looking striking today,
allows my senses to soar as she perches.

Phonics and counting with someone
so alive.
Why is there such relief
when the greatest blessings are paused?

Loneliness is most poignant in a crowded room,
especially a room filled with acquaintances
that seem to desire nothing more
than to remain vaguely familiar.

Everyone has some sort of feelings,
but not everyone has the same feelings
about the same sorts of things,
friends tend to, but not always.

What makes a friend?
Nothing.
Nothing in particular anyway.
Friends are made the same way as enemies.

There really is a fine line.
It is easier, oftentimes for me,
to love an enemy,
than to love a friend that loves my enemy.

Love does not need to be blind to exist,
but loyalty does.
Blind and deaf,
like an old dog.

Depressing, isn't it?
Life spun without romance.
How much nicer to see dimly in candlelight
and choose the sound of soft music?

We all do it, in one way or another.
We chose to be the faithful old dog,
or the stray, or the hopeful romantic...
It helps when one has a friend who feels the same.

A Tribute to the Princess of Potato Valley

She loved me.
She taught me to sew.
She made blankets, lots of blankets,
and dishcloths and slippers and pies.
She enjoyed my company.
She loved lots of people.
We went visiting together when I was young.
She had a "green thumb".
She repurposed things in a seemingly endless amount of ways.
She liked to fish, and to eat fish,
I did not know that, until the day of her funeral.
Her favorite color was pink.
I did not know that either,
and I would not have been able to guess.
Her life was full of so many colors.
The memories of the others cheered me.
Apparently, mixed matched and upside down wallpaper
is a beautiful thing to the people who love you.
She was a master of knitting, crocheting and sewing.
Once, when she was visiting with my children
they were reciting poetry, and she knew every ending!
She taught them a few versions they did not know.
She sang, she sang to children, she sang when she was alone,
mostly she sang for joy and Jesus.
Her garden was a work of art... tin cans, old boards, and lots of vegetables, I wasn't usually allowed to walk in it.
Her ancestors were French.
She was a Leo, and my dad's mom.
She had a pear tree by her steps,
when she moved into the last house of her own she planted two.
The new owners took them down, that made me sad,
but I will always think of her when I preserve pears.
I have tried growing meadow tea, without much success,
and I have had even less success making tea that tastes like hers,
but wild hyssop mint took over my backyard last summer,
perhaps that is the way of it.
Similar things, but different, that is like Grandma and me.
She is a lovely, cultivated, hodge podge, skillful garden,
and I am a hillside of hyssop mint and wild flowers,
growing where God scatters me.
Grandma didn't get angry much, unless her oldest son felt like making merry,
then he would tell her that we came from monkeys, and "she would get all fired up."
Pastor Womer read from Grandma's Bible,
verses that she had marked at some point in the past.

"And the Lord repented of the evil that He thought to do unto His people." Exodus 32:14

"Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord." Psalm 33:12a

"Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." Psalm 51:10

"Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, I have sinned in that I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that to us? see thou to that." Matthew 27:3-4

We buried her earthly body in an old cemetery, a family plot, a heritage site, beside an orchard, beside a lot of white churches.

Sylva Mae Womer... "Sylva, like in the center of Penn-sylva-nia"

The Daily Item, Sunbury, PA

October 13, 2012

Sylvia Mae Womer, 99, Selinsgrove

The Daily Item

— SELINSGROVE – Sylvia Mae Womer, also known as Sylva Mae Womer, 99, entered into eternal rest on Friday, Oct. 12, 2012, at The Manor at Penn Village, Selinsgrove.

She was a daughter of the late John L. and Addie Mae (Peters) Maneval, and was born on Aug. 8, 1913, in Mount Pleasant Mills. On Nov. 29, 1929, she was united in marriage to Paul L. Womer, who preceded her on Feb. 21, 1978.

She had worked for various sewing factories and had retired from the Selinsgrove Center as a resident aide.

Mrs. Womer was a member of St. Thomas Independent Brethren in Christ Church, Mount Pleasant Mills.

She cherished her family, especially the infants.

She was talented in sewing, crocheting, knitting and sharing her skills in her love of gardening.

Mrs. Womer will be remembered as always being there to lend a helping hand to others.

Surviving are four children and their spouses, P. Carl Womer, of Mount Pleasant Mills, Erma J. Shelley, of Mount Pleasant Mills, Vern L. and Goldie L. Womer, of Middleburg, and Loren L. and Trisha A. Womer, of Liverpool; 55 wonderful grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren; one sister, Goldie Goodling, of Dauphin; and several generations of nieces and nephews.

Mrs. Womer was preceded by one son, Lee Alvin, in infancy; one son-in-law, Russell J. “Pepsi” Shelley on June 22, 2010; one daughter-in-law, Janet E. Womer on Feb. 21, 1998; five brothers, Paul, Eugene, Ralph, Harry, and Emory Maneval; and two sisters, Annie Smith and Edna Pyle.

The family will receive friends for visitation from 10 to 11 a.m. Tuesday at The George P. Garman Funeral Homes Inc., 9366 Rt. 35, Mount Pleasant Mills, followed by the funeral at 11 with her nephews, the Rev. Elwood “Woody” Maneval and the Rev. Roger L. Womer, officiating.

Burial will be in Richfield Union Cemetery.

In lieu of flowers, kindly consider a memorial gift in loving memory of Mrs. Womer to: St. Thomas Independent Brethren in Christ Church, “Prayer Garden,” 1070 St. Thomas Road, Mount Pleasant Mills, PA 17853.

The family extends their sincere gratitude to all of the staff at the Manor at Penn Village for their love and tender care for the past two and one half years. “You were great and we all appreciate you. God Bless.”

Homeschooling Doesn't Get Much Sweeter Than This!

It's the time of the year when the flowers start blooming, the birds start singing, the gardeners start playing in the dirt, and the bees start swarming! It isn't necessarily the most desirable thing for bees to swarm, unless you can round them back up, in which case you have have another hive full of bees! I have no idea what my beekeeping hubby is going to do this evening, providing the bees stay nearby. In the meantime, our beekeeper apprentice, Chester, is going to keep an eye on things!

A Few More Glimpses

Life on the Farmette

This morning Chester and I sprayed the fruit trees with a mixture of dish soap, rubbing alcohol and water. It is supposed to help keep the bugs away. We also sprinkled some Epsom salts into the soil at their roots, lots of websites recommend its addition. We are new to orchard care, and still need to get the soil tested, but I am excited to try out some of the mild techniques in hopes that they are very effective. This evening we hope to enlarge the asparagus bed. We did plant some over 3 years ago, but we only just realized that it isn't nearly enough for all the asparagus lovers in this household!

We have a hen that insists on going broody, we know from past experience with her that she isn't likely to give up, but this year we don't have any roosters! So, we thought she might just adopt some day old peeps. Jason bought the minimum amount of pullet chicks from Tractor Supply, six, and we tucked them under the hen... no luck. She was not fooled. Ah well, we tried! Now we are raising the six little chicks! We had brought home six other pullet chicks from Tractor Supply a few weeks ago, they are about half grown by now!

I just love starting my days with a cup of coffee and hanging out a line of wash... Normally, laundry is low on my list of favorite things to do, but when the weather is so suitable it becomes one of my favorite pastimes. I think there is something therapeutic about pinning up a row of clothes, and watching them dry in the warm breezes, then gathering them again, so crisp and unwrinkled, every fiber having absorbed the smell of fresh air and sunshine...

The pasture doesn't extend into the honeysuckles and brambles very well yet, and goats love browse, so we try to gather some for them regularly. Hazel insisted on helping. At first, she tried carrying the big bucket, but it was heavy for her. She still insisted until her wagon was brought out. What an exciting job it became!

The goats were very appreciative and Hazel was ready for a break from all that hard work!

We are all learning lots about goat midwifery. The softening of the ligaments, the swelling of the vulva, what the different types of discharge signify, the bagging up of the udder, the change in the appearance of the belly as the kids position themselves for delivery.... all very similar to human obstetrics and gynecology! Most importantly, we need to remember that the gentle mamas need lots of TLC before, during and after their labor of love. We are in awe of the wonders of nature and the many ways it shows the signature and glory of God!

Our little kid was born early in the morning of the 15th. We are calling him "Friend," a tribute to my recently renewed fondness of all things Quaker.

There's lots more to share, but I guess I will save some things for another blog post....