A Bit of the Orange

Thoughts about the *opinion* quote keep running through my mind.

"I have resigned myself to having less and less resolute opinions."
-- a quote from Amel Larrieux, singer-songwriter, published on the side of a Tall Chai Latte
from the book -- How Starbucks Saved My Life by MICHAEL GATES GILL

I have been very opinionated in the past. I think obnoxiously so . . . hopefully my family can see some improvement in this area of my life.

Seems like over time my opinions are trampled in the dust. After awhile I start to wonder -- what is going on here?

This is the gal who had opinions about the care and upkeep of a house
the care and upkeep of vehicles, yard, gardens, outbuildings
-- how to raise children
-- how many children a family should have
-- how a child should behave in church, a store, in short -- everywhere
-- how a husband should act, speak, behave, etc.
-- how I should act, speak, behave, etc

opinions on debt . . . we shouldn't owe a ton of money
opinions on weight . . . we shouldn't weigh a ton
opinions on:
- speech
- dress
- activities for families, young people, children, etc.
- school, teachers, grading system, curriculum

- using things up, wearing it out, saving things in case you might need it some day . . . now they say you have a disease if you keep things for future use. I've been told -- if you dig in dumpsters for pop cans or other things to recycle you are a sick person.

- opinions on headaches and what to take for headaches
how to avoid headaches -- for instance don't make triple batches of two kinds of cookies and then get a headache and flee to your bedroom and leave your mom and Aunt Dawn to bake the cookies and wash the stacks of dishes
(sorry, Julia . . . now that I have a splitting headache and am experimenting with Tylenol versus Ibuprofen to get relief my opinions on all of that came home to roost)
In other words *I know how you felt*
Actually I feel like I have triple batches of ten different kinds of cookies in my kitchen (figuratively speaking)

I am truly feeling *lower than the belly of a snake* about now
Funny how these old sayings come back to be rolled over and over in my mind
Like this one my mother quoted for my sisters and me when we were little . . .
"You aren't the only pebble on the beach"
I suppose when we were fighting . . .

-- or this one in The Secret Garden

Dickon's mother, Susan Sowerby says: "Once when I was givin' th' children a bit of a preach after they'd been fightin' I ses to 'em all, 'When I was at school my jography told as th' world was shaped like a orange an' I found out before I was ten that th' whole orange doesn't belong to nobody. No one owns more than his bit of a quarter an' there's times it seems like there's not enow quarters to go round. But don't you - none o' you- think as you own th' whole orange or you'll find out you're mistaken, an' you won't find it out without hard knocks.' What children learns from children," she says, "is that there's no sense in grabbin' at th' whole orange - peel an' all. If you do, you'll likely not get even th' pips, an' them's too bitter to eat." '

For the life of me I can't figure out why I thought these quotes were connected with the many opinions I used to have -- unless those weren't opinions but very lofty, unrealistic ideals . . .

make that lofty, unrealistic expectations . . . of myself and my family.

My poor aching head.
It must be time to quit these ramblings.
Wishing you all a wonderful Thanksgiving.

this.. that.. and the other thing

Still busier than busy. Ellis should get some sort of special reward sometime for going above and beyond the call of duty for his customers.

In the meantime I'm selfishly thinking "We need you here at home too!" And he doesn't get paid nearly enough . . . Sorry -- that truly was a loud grumble

(on a thankful note) part-time help has been hired . . . a neighbor that lives straight north of us on the other side of the woods. His daughters used to come to Vacation Bible School eons ago. That was way back when Jeremy and Evan went to VBS so it's been a few years.

One of my friends had a horrendous cold that went on and on for weeks. Evan was coughing and coughing like crazy, too, here in our household. There is every sort of rumor going around about this flu. In the meantime we're taking lots of vitamin C and drinking lots of water and have never felt better. Well, I suppose in our childhood we didn't wake up with quite so many creaks and groans but you know what I mean.

Here are some poems from:
The Laura Ashley Anniversary Book of Delights

How unconcerned the grazing sheep
Behaving in such manner;
They stand upon their breakfast, they
Lie down upon their dinner.

This would not seem so strange to us
If fish grew round our legs,
If we had floors of marmalade
And beds of buttered eggs.
-- DOROTHY WELLESLEY, SHEEP

- - - - - - - -
Remember that the most beautiful
things in the world are the most useless;
peacocks and lilies for instance.

--JOHN RUSKIN, THE STONE OF VENICE
- - - - - - - - -

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep and cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

-- W. H. DAVIES, LEISURE



'Tis dog's delight to bark and bite
And little birds to sing,
And if you sit on a red-hot brick
It's a sign of an early spring.

ANONYMOUS, SPRINGTIME

[with a picture of a girl jumping sky high off a red-hot brick =]


I arranged the books in my bedroom in towers
I -- orange with some yellow orange,
II -- green and cream and some brown,
III -- purple and lavender and cream,
IV -- pink and pale yellow,
V -- all shades of blue . . .

Maybe the towers will reach up to the ceiling before I get done. I have a bunch more to do.
I got the idea from a magazine picture advertising shelves from IKEA . . .


What do you think of this one--is it true or just so much gibberish?

"I have resigned myself to having less and less resolute opinions."
-- a quote from Amel Larrieux, singer-songwriter, published on the side of a Tall Chai Latte
from the book -- How Starbucks Saved My Life by MICHAEL GATES GILL


Last night Jorgan was proudly showing us his new snow board.
He was reading the product registration paraphernalia

Here are some of the questions:
What is your favorite CD?
What are your favorite magazines?
What three things would you want if you were stranded on a desert island?
1. ________________
2.________________
3.________________

We all stared at each other in astonishment.
"Does it really ask that?"

Before any of us had time to respond --
Krysta popped up with this,
"Food, water and a boat.
Duh!"

no brakes -- freewheeling

back again

So I was driving the little S 10 pickup on a gravel road, humming along at a nice clip. Straight ahead is a field of corn. There are corn fields on either side of me. The road makes a 90 degree turn to the left. I stepped on the clutch and took it out of gear. Started stepping on the brakes so I could turn the corner. Suddenly realized there are no brakes.

I heard my voice yelping, "NO BRAKES!?! as I skimmed along . . . the corn field getting closer and closer. I thought briefly about trying to take the corner but scratched that idea. As I contemplated my options I saw a grassy field lane leading into the field. Steered the pickup down this little lane and aimed for the corner of the corn field. Noticed a stray stalk of corn off to the side of the field. The pickup squeezed between the field and the lone corn stalk like going through a doorway. I mowed over some weeds and a midget corn stalk. On the other side of the *door* was a patch of bare ground. If it had been planted at one time it was drowned out or something. Bounced along for a short time and stopped. I looked all around, put it in reverse and backed up -- being careful not to hit the stray corn stalk. Glanced both ways and out on to the road again. Drove the rest of the way to the barn very carefully and slowly.

As I was driving I remembered there is this thing called *downshifting* and I probably wouldn't have coasted along like that if I'd just put it back in the next lower gear and let the engine slow the pickup down. Or let out the clutch --

When I told this story to my family they gave me all sorts of advice on what I could have done or what I should do if this ever happens again . . . . heaven forbid! Jeremy drove the S 10 the next day and promptly came home and took it apart "before it kills someone."

I keep thinking about that feeling of *no control* as I barrelled along . . . even tho it was only 30 mph it gave me a helpless sensation. It was a little like "Wait . . . I've felt like this before." . . . . when life is out of control and things are happening to me that I can not stop or change. I look all around at all the options and call out to God in my helplessness. He has always heard and provided a way for me to go -- just like finding that grassy field lane.

Some day the WAY He provides may be a bumpy road or a rocky path or even a tumble down a steep cliff. He is with me no matter what. That is a comfort for me.

Hope I can finish that other story soon. ;]

Deanne is far away in North Dakota so she can't help me. I was trying to finish my post . . . not publish it.

"How old were you when you saw a pig for the first time?" Krysta was chattering in the back seat of the suburban and to be truthful I was not paying much attention until she asked this question.

That started a trip down memory lane . . . when was the first time I met a pig outside a story book? There was that huge pig that Debbie Gingerich allegedly rode. Maybe there was a pig in Grandpa's barn. We butchered pigs one cold winter day with two other families -- kind of our own *Butchering Day* just like Laura and Mary in Little House in the Big Woods -- and no, we didn't blow up the bladder and pretend it was a balloon.

But I'd have to say the first time I met a pig that I remember was way back when Ellis and Jerry managed a hog unit in the 80's. That wasn't just one pig, but hundreds of pigs. Jeremy and I would go along to the barn on weekends and help.

This spring has been a bit like turning the clock back since Ellis and Evan took on the job of doing chores at two hog barns. (I'm so glad we didn't tie into four barns as we planned at first!) This is turning into a family project involving everyone.

Like this evening with Krysta chattering away in the back seat and me driving along unfamiliar gravel roads . . . out to find Evan's barn and take supper to the guys. Evan gave me verbal directions the other day and I think I followed along. Let's see . . . take hwy 35 to 30 and then instead of turning left as we normally do turn right. Okay so far. One mile and there are two barns on the left. That doesn't seem like the right place. It should be only one barn. Turn on that road anyway and start driving west. There off to the right is one lonely barn with a long lane leading to it. The sky is rosy behind it and there will be a beautiful sunset.

Gravel crunches under the tires as we pull in behind the pickup. Supper for the guys can be spread out on the tailgate. They are sorting pigs for the second evening in a row. Krysta thought that was way too many evenings for Daddy to be gone so she jumped at the chance to go with me.

Krysta hopped out and headed for the barn. The curtains were down so she could peer in almost nose to nose with

Hog Barns, Rocks and Walleye

Saturday, April 11, 2009 . . . I had a flash back this morning. Ellis and Evan both started new, part-time jobs this week. They each check a hog barn twice a day. Ellis debated . . . he could do two barns and Evan do a third barn. There are four barns and this company hoped we would do all four. Jeremy was going to do two, Evan one and Ellis one. In the meantime Jeremy found another job and has been doing the training for that job the last three weeks or so (with our nephew.) At this point Ellis stayed on the safe side of insanity and only contracted to do one barn. It is on the way to his real job and there is a shower (thank the Lord.)

Anyway this morning he asked if I wanted to ride along to the barn. . . . and sweep the flies out of the office and write down a list of things needed to streamline the whole process for laundry. The barn where he used to work all those eons ago had a washer and dryer right there to wash the coveralls, towels, etc.

I got done sweeping flies and Ellis was still inside whooping and hollering at the pigs. (There were three that were being picked on so he had to separate them out of the pens and find a new place for them. He rescued them from certain death.)

Think about the hog farmers the next time you eat pork chops or Spam. =}

Anyway I went out to the suburban and settled down to read a book about how to lower stress in my life. I looked out the window and saw a field lane and thought, "If I take a walk that would lower stress." There was even a jacket in the back seat -- so I set off.

There was a beautiful tree and a rock pile under it. A blue sky -- not quite like MT -- but almost. I found three or four unique rocks in the gravel on the lane, but I exercised great restraint and did not bring them home. Only held them and memorized how they looked. One was black with sparkles, one was red and black with sparkles . . . the sun was shining -- can you tell? There was a cream colored rock with a dark band through the center. I can't remember the other one that caught my eye.

Last fall I found a piece of petrified wood on 290th ST -- the road that goes by our house. It is a gravel road -- not pavement. All during my childhood I searched for petrified wood every time we went to Graceton Beach on Lake of the Woods. I never found anything and now I find a small piece on my doorstep in southern MN.

That reminds me of the walleye Dad caught in one of the mud puddles (small lakes) here in southern MN. When we lived up north we fished on Lake of the Woods every summer. We caught some awesome fish . . . at least they were big and put up a fight before we got them in the boat. There were some walleye and lots of northern pike. The biggest walleye was landed by my dad at St. Olaf Lake -- or was it Cedar Lake? We have a picture of Dad, Hans and Jeremy on the dock with the fish held high . . . pleased expressions all around.

I made almost as much fuss when I found the petrified wood. It has a place of honor on my shelf in the kitchen. A small reminder that the unexpected is just around the corner. Maybe just over the next hill . . . .

*Remarkable Coincidence*

Here's an idea to bat around . . .
I've stopped using the term "remarkable coincidence" since this happened to me a few years ago.
Maybe it's splitting hairs--I don't know.
What do you think?

Mom was diagnosed with cancer the second time around in the spring of 2004.
Because it was the second time and she was--for the most part--quite healthy, the doctors thought she would be a good candidate for a stem cell transplant. They are able to harvest the patients' own stem cells, freeze them, give mega doses of chemo to the patient, then return the stem cells to them. A new start on life --

During the recovery period Dad and Mom had a room in the transplant house a few blocks from the hospital. When Dad started to drive bus in the fall I was able to stay with Mom and take her to and from the hospital as needed for daily check-ups.

The transplant house is a story all by itself. It is a big, beautiful house run by nuns with all the comforts of home and a few more besides. Like a big exercise room and a huge laundry. . .

One day I was doing our laundry. There were other gals busy with their laundry. The conversation was about the flood -- twelve to thirteen inches of rain had deluged southern MN and northern IA the day before. We were comparing adventures.

Sally mentioned the town in IA where she was from and the condition of the roads between there and Rochester MN.
Jane looked up and said, "Little Springs? Do you know so and so?"
Sally said, "Oh, yes, we drive right by their place every day."

It turned out Jane does crafty things with old cowboy boots or farm boots. She makes door stops out of them with flowers and birds arranged in a delightful way. The people in Little Springs had ordered one of these and she was looking for a way to deliver it to them.

(It was in the trunk of her car as we spoke)

Over their laundry baskets these two strangers made the arrangements, then Jane dashed out to the car to bring the boot/door stop in and show it to all of us and start it on its way home.

As Jane left the room I looked at Sally and said, "What a remarkable coincidence?!"
She looked at me and gently said, "There is no such thing as a remarkable coincidence. My parents taught me our days are planned by God and He brings these things together. I'm finding out it is true as I see things just like this happen to me over and over again."

Needless to say, I went away from that laundry room praising my great, big, wonderful God for His *remarkable coincidences.* I've been keeping my eyes open for them ever since.