Finders keepers

Guess who found an Alexander Hamilton in the bushes while she was walking the dog!

It made me think about what else we have found.

Kartwright found some Oakleys in the ocean a few years back, and they weren’t even all that scratched up. I blogged about it here.

Haven found a really nice DSLR camera case on the road when she was riding her bike a few weeks ago. We let it hang on the mailbox a few days, but no one claimed it.

My brother-in-law once found a diamond ring when he was in high school!
Michael tells a story about finding musket balls from the civil war when he was a boy, and lived in Atlanta, when they were building an addition to the Piedmont Hospital. I think my boys found some old civil war stuff on the site of Habersham in Beaufort SC when they were boys too.

Have you ever found anything fun?

4 more miles for me, for a total of 6, 94 more to go :)

It hurts so good ( part 2)

If you would like to read part 1, go HERE

Crockett’s birth was a scheduled induction, two weeks early. Knowing that my first two children were quite large, my doctor was a bit concerned that this, my third boy, was measuring quite small. The placenta was showing signs of calcification, which he explained simply meant, it was just about all used up. I don’t know why these facts didn’t alarm us at the time, perhaps because we were still in the frame of mind that nothing bad really ever happened to us. It could have been, that at that stage of pregnancy, all I heard was that I was going to be relieved of my discomfort sooner than expected.

 

The birth was progressing, and I don’t remember being in a whole lot of pain when the anesthesiologist came to give me my epidural. I was still a complacent patient at that point in my journey, and I just did what they told me, when they told me to do it. I have since learned with Crockett’s help, that I can have a say in my own care, or lack there of.

My experience with the epidural up to this point, was two fold. With my first baby the epidural layer was penetrated, which meant my labor was followed with a very bad, week long, headache. It also was all but ineffective, and when forceps were used to extract my 9lb, 10 oz. son, I assure you I felt everything! All was forgiven when son number one was in my arms.

With my second baby, everything worked like clockwork. I was basically paralyzed from the waist down, and had no idea I was even ready to deliver, when they told me it was time to push. The old adage no pain no gain did not hold true, and I was soon handed my beautiful strapping son number two, lipstick still intact.

 

Because of my conflicting experiences, I had conflicted feelings when birth story number three commenced, but they didn’t ask, so the epidural march began. As I felt the needle go in my back I prayed “Lord please don’t let them penetrate the wall, and spare me from that headache”. A sudden searing pain shot through my entire body like a bolt of lightening, from the point of entry down through my right leg. I was blinded by what was happening, and as if I was experiencing it from some other viewpoint, and in slow motion, I heard myself scream uncontrollably, long, and unlike ever before. Something horrible had happened, it was what I would imagine it feels like to be electrocuted, and I thought I was a gonner. I don’t remember all that transpired after that. I do remember that at some point during giving birth I felt my chest tighten, and my lungs struggling to inflate properly. They first administered something in my IV for high blood pressure, and then something else to bring it down again, or perhaps it was the other way around. Things went from bad to worse when they lowered the back of the bed so that my feet were higher than my head. “To control my blood pressure” they explained. Behind an oxygen mask I remember looking at Michael and wondering if I needed to say good-bye, I was very afraid. As labor progressed that anesthetist went off duty, and another came on. I remember distinctly that the new “expert” was very frustrated by all the surgical tape his colleague had left on my back, and complained to the nurse standing by my side. In the end I was handed my third son, and as any post natal mother knows, when that fuzzy bundle of love is in your arms, nothing you went through to get them there, really matters!

Soon after giving birth however, I realized all was not okay with me. There was a patch of flesh on the outside of my right knee about six inches in diameter that was super sensitive. By sensitive, I don’t mean it was sore, or even achy, It literally felt like it was raw, and nerves were exposed. Visually there was nothing there out of the ordinary, the skin was not red or discolored in any way. Every one’s first response was to touch the patch, Michael, nurses, doctors, but I would panic as they came close. I could literally feel the presence of anything even remotely close to that area of my leg. I couldn’t let the bed sheets touch it, or my nightgown, and just the thought of a shower was horrifying. It was very odd, and very frightening.

 

The medical staff didn’t seem to believe me, as they tried to explain it away with something about the stirrups irritating it during delivery. That was of course an absurd notion. They even sent in a psychiatrist to try to talk me out of my discomfort, and several other physicians as well. The first anesthesiologist came to visit, and assured me that it couldn’t have been anything to do with the epidural. I was young, and naive, but I hadn’t just fallen off the turnip truck. It was clear to me that no one wanted to accept responsibility for my problem, and everyone wanted to avoid being sued. Not only would they offer no explanation for my pain, they really never acknowledged that it was real. By the third day my pain had subsided enough to shower and dress, but it was still ultra sensitive. Gradually, over time, the pain became more tolerable, and today, more than sixteen years later, I feel it only occasionally.

 

We went through a lot with that third precious baby boy, and he taught us all far more than I could ever begin to express in this space. Some, is still yet to be taught, and likewise learned. Twelve and half years after this birth story we had to say good-bye, and he was able to say “hello” for the very first time, in heaven. So now today, almost 4 years after that bittersweet farewell, I am reminded of his arrival every so often when my jeans hit my right leg just right, or my husband leans to pat my knee, or the cat playfully rubs against my calf asking to be let out, or I have had a more stressful day then usual. My sweet Savior has given me good pain once more, and I remember my Crockett man, and oh how it hurts so good.

DIY avocados

We LOVE avocados around here, mostly with salsa and chips. So Michael is taking a stab at growing our own! It reminds me of the ol' sweet potato trick.

 

Just toothpicks, and water, and in a few short weeks we have roots, and stems, and even some little tiny leaves showing themselves! I read that within three years we could have a tree!

 

Honestly, I kinda made fun of Michael when he put those rock hard seeds in water. I couldn't imagine that they would grow roots, much less sprout leaves. I didn't really want an ugly rotting avocado pit stinking up the house, but I kept that to myself, hoping it wouldn't take long for them (the seeds, or pits, or whatever they are) to prove me right.

Well, now I am a believer, and they have really been fun to watch, and they don't smell at all. Now this skeptic is dreaming of beautiful flowering avocado trees.

Funny

Kartwright was home last weekend for fall break.

The girls were ecstatic to have him back!

I think his personal space was invaded repeatedly.

Funny how personal space seems to grow as you grow older.

Funny how just five weeks can change things.

Funny how some things never change.

Funny how funny Kartwright is.

Life is funny.

bear much fruit??

After just two weeks away, our beautiful Georgia garden looked like this! At first glance, I thought all was lost, and I didn't even bother to look for fruit for a few days. Frankly, I am not much of an outdoorsy kind of gal, and all I could imagine was that snake that seems to be following us around! Because it was just the girls and I for a time, with the hubby back at our new "home", and snake slayer off in another country, I had to brave it alone.

 

To my amazement, the harvest was plentiful, but the laborers were few! Look at all the fruit these crazy plants bore amongst all that jungle of weeds.

It got me thinking of all the analogies that we Christians could glean from this sad looking garden.

And, at the risk of boring you to death, here are just a few. You may apply them as needed.

Sometimes, you have to look hard for the fruit, it is often hiding amongst the weeds.

Those who bear the most fruit, don't always appear as you might expect. Sometimes they aren't all cleaned up and pretty, but their fruit is just as sweet.

Somethings might appear to be fruit, but in reality it is just weeds that look really pretty, pretending to be fruit.

Good vines and bad vines often grow side by side, but almost always when they are that close, the bad vines can take over.

When the fruit stays too long on the vine, and is not harvested, it often rots.

We can all plant seeds, and if we want fruit, we must, but that is the easy part. The real work of nourishing the plants takes time, effort, and sacrifice.

We can do all the right things, but only God can make the miracle of the fruit.

We can do all the wrong things, but God may still make the miracle of the fruit.

The fruit that is harvested can go to feed many.

Can you think of more?

I am the vine, you are the branches;

whoever abides in Me and I in him,

 he bears much fruit,

 for apart from Me you can do nothing.

 John 15:5

Okay, okay

OOPS, Correction, you do not sow the the fruits of your labor......duh, you REAP the fruits of your labor. You sow the seeds that you will later reap, because of the sowing. The seeds that you sow produce the fruits that you later reap. It is the sowing that makes the very fruit possible to reap, otherwise there would be no reaping. No sowing, equals no reaping. I get it now :)

ice cubes?

Son number one, and his beautiful wife, gifted me this beautiful orchid for Mothers Day. Son number one texted me two weeks later and asked, "Is your orchid dead yet?". He knows me well! I absolutely LOVE flowers, and flowering plants are even better, but my thumbs are very definitely pinkelish peachelish, and not at all green, if ya catch my drift. Said orchid is still looking gorgeous, but I fear her days are numbered, and as I told son number one, I try not to let her catch me looking at her.

Look at this beaut, milky white petals, set off with magenta centers, she truly deserves a better care taker.

Well, while picking up balloons for the aforementioned graduation of son number two, I noticed some pretty plants similar to her, awaiting purchase. On their tags were directions for care. The tag suggested three ice cubes per week! Yes, I said ice cubes. Crazy huh? It doesn't seem like her delicate self would like that coldness, but I'm gonna give it a try! I can see my right thumb turning a very slight shade of mint as I write, perhaps pretty orchid has a chance after all!

time is like cabinets

21 months after Michael and I tied the knot, we purchased our first home. It was bank owned, which means the former owners were most likely foreclosed on, and we were blessed by their misfortune. It was a big house for just the two of us and our baby boy, much more than we needed. I hadn't been married long enough to acquire an arsenal of kitchen gadgets, and I remember thinking I would never fill all the walls of cabinets in my new cooking space. Ten years later we moved. We had three small boys by then, and a whole house full of stuff. In that decade I filled every last cabinet in that kitchen. Six houses later, I have learned that if I have the space, I fill it up.


I don't need more cabinets, I need less stuff.


Time is like cabinets.


My time seems to be filled up just as soon as I find some extra. That's OK, because I like to be busy, I think it is good to be busy, but recently, I have been feeling like I fit God in around my schedule, instead of fitting my schedule in around Him. My time with Him in the morning is always the first to get cut short if I'm running late, or have over slept. Evening prayers with the girls has been turning into short and sweet intercession, because I'm late getting them to bed, or I'm especially weary. We often pray quick over meals, so we can eat, and hurry hurry to whatever is next. My relationship with my maker is most often the first thing to go when I get busy. When I don't slow down and acknowledge His gifts as I walk through my day, commune with His spirit as I recognize His mercy, intercede for my loved ones and their needs, as well as my own, I am the one that pays the price. He then seems distant, but I am the one who has receded into my own business.


I don't need more time, I need less business.


Do you find that the more space you have, cabinets and time, the more stuff you find to fill them up?

special delivery

Remember these little beauties? 
Well, they are finally paying their rent.

rainy day fun

Check these puppies out, so very fun!

 The mouse marbles are my personal favorite.

hideous, or cool

Is he unbelievably hideous, or kinda potentially cool?

Please cast your vote.

sweet submission

We had more tomatoes than we knew what to do with. Kartwright can only eat so many BLT's, and something had to be done before all that juicy goodness went to waste. What to do, what to do.... I know, I'll google it. What did we do without google? So, I feverishly typed in

How to can tomatoes,

and I found this gem of wisdom and knowledge. So, I got myself to the nearest best buy, and bought some canning jars, and jumped right in with much fear and trembling.

The tomatoes followed right along with me, and decided they too wanted to be saved and later enjoyed by our family, during the cold dark days of winter.

I was so glad they complied, even through all twelve minutes of hanging upside down. Sweet, sweet tomatoes I tell ya, and so very kind to go along with such a novice, in such a risky endeavor.

Aren't they so very beautiful all lined up in a neat long row in such sweet submission?

Thank you Lord for such wonderful bounty!

intolerant commenter part 2

Be sure and read Intolerant blogger part 1, or this may not make much sense.

Ms. Intolerant stated that Thomas Jefferson, and Ben Franklin were both Deists, and that there were also a few atheists thrown in.

We could argue about whether Thomas Jefferson was a Deist, or a Theist, but it wouldn't really be relevant in the discussion, as I think Ms. Intolerant was speaking in reference to the Constitution which Thomas Jefferson did not sign. As far as Ben Franklin is concerned, I agree that he was most likely not a Christian because he stated at one time that he didn't believe in Jesus' Deity, I hope his mind was changed before his death, however, I do know that just a few weeks before he died he wrote these words concerning Jesus.

"I think his system of morals and his religion, as he left them to us, the best the world ever saw or is likely to see:"

One does not have to believe in Jesus, or his deity, to believe and understand that his principles, Christian principles, are good, and make a better world when they are followed!

Of the fifty-five men who met to write our constitution, fifty of them were unquestionably Christians, and possibly fifty-two. Of the fifty six who signed, definitely fifty, maybe fifty-two were Christians.

None of that really matters however in a discussion of our country, and if it was founded on Christian principles, because the ground work was laid far before that.

The Mayflower Compact was written by the first settlers of Plymouth as they sat in the Captains quarters on their ship before stepping on to the "New World". That document affirmed their intention when it states "for the glory of God, and the advancement of the Christian faith". You see, those pilgrims as they were named by Governor William Bradford, who derived the name right out of I Peter 2:11, were a single congregation, secretly formed in 1606 in Nottinghamshire England. They began their underground congregation by making a covenant, which became the Scrooby Covenant, pledging to "obey God, and His law, and to walk together in Christian fellowship". Because religious freedom was nonexistent in England, they left for the Netherlands. There they faced different hardships, and eventually planned to go to America. The first group arrived in America in 1620. The very group that penned the Mayflower compact.

The significance of the Mayflower Compact to our Constitution is ginormous, isn't that obvious?

After that initial group of pilgrims came, several more waves of Pilgrims came, then in 1628 the Puritans arrived. By 1700 the distinction of the two groups had been dissolved. Over the next 150 years, these dedicated Christians in New England, wrote up about 100 different compacts, covenants, and constitutions. They all reflect a Christian motivation.

No one can argue with the Character of these early settlers, and the hardships they endured, all in the name of religious freedom and the cause of Christ. However, instead of being grateful for the contributions that they made to our nation, and the wonderful Christian Heritage they left behind, the modern secularist holds them up merely as cartoon images to be dismissed and forgotten.

I could go on and on to prove that our country was founded on Christian principles. Why is that so hard for some to accept? It's just a fact, and just because you don't want to believe it, doesn't make it false. History is History, and nothing can change it. Our secular history books have more words dedicated to Marilyn Monroe then to the Puritans and the huge impact they had on our American way of life, because they don't want you to give God the glory for what he has done through those puritans.

So, Ms. Semantics, you can go on and pray to God when you need him for healing, but not acknowledge the work he has already done to make your life worth living in the first place. And, Ms. Intolerant, you can cheer on your favorite soccor team, all the while forgetting the price that was paid for your enjoyment. Ms. Oblivious, you can fail to stand for what is right, and let intolerant blogging commenters bully you into not using words like blessed, even when you know we all are, and Mr. Rude, you can hide behind silly immature tactics like making fun of people who know more about something that is important to them, and aren't afraid to speak it, all the while failing to speak yourself. Irrelevant, I guess you can keep spouting about the religious persecution you have never experienced, and the Indians that apparently you would have lived at peace with, while forgetting that free speech is just one more thing our Christian forefathers gifted us with. But none of you can change history, no matter how much you want to! This great United States of America was founded on Christian principles, and If I was the last person to believe it, and I can assure you I am not, it wouldn't make it any less true!

If you have made it to the end of this very long post, I commend you, and while I welcome your comments, please don't write about all the mistakes our forefathers made. I am well aware that the Indians were pushed out of this land unjustly, and that many of those Godly men I speak of also bought and sold slaves, among other atrocities. They made horrible, unimaginable mistakes, they were sinners in need of a Savior just like you and I, but that does not change the reality of our history!

Intolerant commenter part 1

I recently commented on a blog, and got a bit beaten up for it.

I thought is was a harmless comment really, just stating the obvious I thought. I was actually addressing another commenter, lets call her Ms. Intolerant, just because I don't know her real name. You see, Ms. Intolerant had addressed a different commenter, lets call her Ms. Oblivious. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

The blogger I was reading is a fantastic writer. I have only read a few of her posts, but she is very funny, as well as insightful, and can make the most mundane of events interesting. This particular post was about a dream she had, and a phone call she was anticipating, and an interesting study she had come across. The study was about if you condensed all the people in the world down to 100, how many would be American,male, or wealthy, or educated....etc. You know the kind if study I'm talking about don't ya?? These studies are always enlightening, because what we always learn from them is, that as Americans we are extremely blessed.

Well Ms. Oblivious commented just that, something about being blessed as a nation, which would make her not oblivious at all, but rather right on the money, but like me, I don't think she saw the tornado of anger that would ensue. Ms. Intolerant took offense to her using that word, blessed. She chided Ms. Oblivious, and explained that the word "blessed" has a certain connotation to it, implying perhaps that God somehow loves us here in the US more then he loves other countries. She didn't want people to use the word blessed. She said she didn't think God noticed map boundaries.

Well, like I said I too commented.

I complimented the blogger, thanked her for her post, and then I stated,

hold on to your hats here,

this is really controversial,

I almost feel like I should whisper it, since it created such a fire storm last time.

I stated that "America is blessed, not because God loves us more, but because our country was founded on Christian principles. It is a cause and effect thing."

oooooooo doggies, another commenter Ms. Semantics I'll call her, did not like that, not one bit, and she let that be known! She argued that our country was founded on freedom, not Christianity! other commenters also joined the throng. Mr. Rude resorted to making fun of my name "a snip of goodness?" he wrote, not sure what that meant, but it was as if because he didn't like my name, then my comment was invalid. Then of course in these discussions there is always a Ms. Irrelevant, I didn't really get her point, first I was like huh? then I was like what? then I was kinda bored, something about Indians?

Because Ms oblivious used the word blessed, and I used the word Christianity, we were treated....well, lets just say, less then kindly.

let it be known, that the names have been changed to protect the unenlightened.

part 2 to come soon

climb to the top

I am constantly amazed at the willingness in my kids to try new things. I love that they all thrive in new surroundings, that they do not cower in the face of the unknown, or back away from obstacles or challenges. I am proud of how they so easily acclimate to new places, and have the ability to effortlessly make friends.

They have all faced huge upsets in their lives in the last few years, moving, disappointment, loss of friends, physical limitations, gossip, the realisation that people are not always who they claim to be, the death of a sibling, and the grief of their parents, the hard realities of life.

The four children I have left on earth, hold their heads high, they try, they battle, they persevere, they keep on keeping on,

.....and my one boy in Heaven, well, I am convinced that he is now able to climb mountains as well.

linking up with

http://www.chattingatthesky.com/2010/06/29/blooming-on-a-tuesday/

Pretty stone chapel

When Michael and I were recently exploring the woods of Callaway gardens, we came upon this sweet little stone chapel, tucked away in the trees.

Although the tower was tall, it was dwarfed by the tall trees that surrounded it, and the attached church. I noticed immediately that there were stained glass windows, and thought to myself, what a shame that no light can get through those beautiful windows!

Then we walked through the front doors, and I think I could hear the angels singing, it was so illuminated! I can not even tell you how fantastic the colors that bounced off the floors and walls of this precious place were. It was amazing!

Here is a close up of one of the windows, it was truly remarkable the craftsmanship that these windows had!

I especially loved this one. see all the dogwood blooms?

ooooooooh, and this one, so unusual!

And this one was all acorny just like our stay at The Callaway lodge!

Here is a shot from the front looking to the back. Each of the four windows on the right represents a different season! The colors were from every spectrum, so cool! And look at those cool stone pillars, and the beams. I wish I could take you all there!

This was the altar, so there was ginormous, beautified glass, in front and behind!

When you walked out you were met with this scene! Can't you just imagine it in the fall, or the spring, with all the natural colors? What a beautiful serene spot!

And, just around the corner, this sweet water fall.