Christmas Eve with the Moravians

Oh what a wonderful Christmas we have had. We were invited to the Needham's, neighbors of ours here at Brookberry Farm, to an Open House, then those who wanted joined them for Christmas Eve services at one of our local Moravian churches. It was so neat. The only thing missing was Leah's presence, as she is in Singapore, but God has big Hands, and we knew she was fine. We got to the church at 6:00. I noticed on the marquee that it said services started at 8 PM. I asked Lynda, again, what time services were and she repeated, "7:30." I told her the marquee said, "8:00," so we asked one of the few church volunteers there at 6:15, what time services were. "Eight o'clock, he replied." I loved how we all smiled and sat down near the front, since we were the only ones there other than them and the pastor. It didn't matter. It was simply decorated for Christmas with only four colors evident in the whole church...white walls, woodwork--including pews, and the dark trim atop the white, and red and green decorations. (The carpet appeared to be a light green, as did the cushions on the pews, but I could be wrong, as it was dimly lit.) It was a wonderful time to reflect on the true meaning of Christmas.

The hand-dipped beeswax candles, probably made in Old Salem, one of the first Moravian Settlements here in North Carolina, were evident at the front of the church with the beautiful red ribbons adorning each of them. It's quite a sight. I wish I had taken a picture since I had so much time. There was a white multifaceted star over the pulpit where the pastor, Rev. Dr. Worth Green, delivered the message, which was simple and very personable. He commented on the 2nd stanza of "Away in a Manger," and it was profound, but I didn't write it down. I went back(4 days later) and looked at the song and decided I liked the last stanza the best because it reminds me of Christ's eternal qualities. "Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay Close by me forever, and love me, I pray. Bless all the dear children in thy tender care, And take us to heaven, to live with Thee there." (Pastor Green, please comment in the comment section to offer explanation for our enrichment. Thank you.)

We were singing carols throughout the service and Rev. Green commented prior to his message that we were all Moravians on Christmas Eve. It made us all smile as he called for the different denominations to stand. (We jumped at the chance to go with the Needham's to this special service because we had heard so much about it.) I have to admit that I was curious, after learning about Moravian history in seminary, and that Jan Hus was a predecessor to Martin Luther. Google Jan Hus, or John Huss. He challenged Catholic ecclesiology, the study of theology and the Christian church, and was eventually burned at the stake for his "heretical" views.

This is my best recollection of what took place: The service began with us all singing, "O Come All Ye Faithful," then the Lovefeast was served right after the reading of the Christmas Story in Luke 2. In essence, the lovefeast has been one of their practices since the first century Church and is a symbol of their agape love for one another, just as Holy Communion is to show our love for Christ. Double doors were opened at the front on each side of the podium and ladies dressed in white with small hats atop their heads, came out with long baskets of bread, which were shaped like a doughnut without a hole. They were passed down each pew and all the ladies returned through the double doors together, after serving everyone. More singing, then the doors were opened again and there were the ladies standing, each with a man who held a huge tray of coffee cups, which were handed down the rows one at a time. Inside the cup was the most delicious cup of coffee I have ever had, each having been laced with a little sugar and cream. How they got all those coffee cups prepared and still steaming hot I will never know. We sang prior to the blessing, which was this simple prayer, "Come, Lord Jesus, our Guest to be, and bless these gifts bestowed by thee. Bless thy dear ones everywhere, and keep them in thy loving care. Amen." I personally think this should be every Christian's Christmas prayer, in lieu of preparing for a Santa who will never appear. How novel...honoring Jesus and thanking Him for His gifts: salvation, life everlasting, all we have and are...especially His grace that is sufficient for each new day if we but trust Him. Christmas was never meant to be what it has become. My prayer is that we all take a look within and without ourselves and do our best to our little part to make a big difference in the Name of Jesus.

The service was drawing to a close, when once again, the men and women came through the doors and passed out red beribboned hand-dipped beeswax candles for each of us and we all sang, "Christ the Lord," holding our candles high at the end when we got to the last stanza, which says, "Praise the Lord, God our Salvation, Praise Him Who retrieved our loss; Sing, with awe, and love's sensation, Hallelujah, God with us."

The candles were then extinguished and we all remained standing as the choir sang "The Hallelujah Chorus." We were commissioned to go out and be a Light to the world, and I walked out glowing and ready to go. It was the very best Christmas Eve I have ever had. "The stress of old has passed away, never to return I pray. Likewise that's my prayer for you, to daily reflect on Christ anew."

...And Enjoy Him Forever

The second part of man's chief end, "...and enjoy Him forever," came into play the day after Randy and Matthew arrived home. We rarely get a good snow here, and this one was awesome...around 4 inches or more. It covered everything, and that's a good snow to me. We awoke to a picture perfect, sun shiny, snow covered world. It truly was as though the glory of the Lord was shining all around us. Everywhere you looked was a reminder of God's glory and His creation. It was beautiful. It reminded me of the verse in Romans 1, "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--His eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse."

Matthew slept until noon, so we had a late breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast and grits. (Only I ate the grits.) As we were eating and enjoying the scenery out the back windows, Randy said, "Hey look! There's somebody sledding down the hill!" He was referring to what I call, 'Cow Hill,' which is a part of the Bowman Gray, Jr. estate. I grabbed the binoculars to make sure it wasn't trespassers and was happy to see Bo 4 and his son and a dog climbing back up the hill after a sled run, with the truck parked at the top of the hill. It was such a picture! He sent us a picture from his viewpoint. It was very comical in some ways. What a wonderful technological world we live in.

After that, I trekked up to the cold attic to find our ski-wear that was packed away. It brought back fond memories of past ski trips as I looked at the small mittens, ski pants and bibs, and I realized how quickly time flies, once again. As I stated earlier...it was a picture perfect day. We didn't need hats, or anything other than gloves, jackets and shoes. Randy and Matthew no longer have snowboots, so that turned out to be the only problem for the day, as the snow found a great place to nestle in the warmth of their shoes.

We have the most wonderful hill that leads down to the pond in our backyard. There are only three situations that make it treacherous...after a torrential rain, acorn season and snow season. We learned the hard way last year about stopping on the sled before getting to the pond and my rose bushes. Our neighbors have a wonderful sled that looks like a Boogie Board with 2 sets of handles in the front and back. They shared with us. We provided the hill; they provided the transportation. We all took turns, and decided it was time to go on to bigger and better after a while of trying to skirt the bushes and pond, so off we went to the hill behind the barn. It was awesome. We flew down right into the street and on across. I was the only one who screamed and squealed. (Sound effects really add to the fun, I have decided.) We spent the good part of the day building a snow girl and sledding. It was so warm that no one wanted hot chocolate like in the old days, and I am certainly not complaining.

Which brings me to the close of enjoying Him forever. I look at this beautiful earth and I see the wonder of God's creation. I see the results of what man's disobedience has wrought and I look forward to spending time with Him forever someday in the true Paradise. I rejoice at the reality that I am a child of God because I accept and believe that Jesus Christ is the Messiah, the One prophesied, the One glorified, the One sent to reconcile mankind to God. I look at how the history of one man changed history forever, even to separating the world's history before and after his death with 'BC' (Before the birth of Christ), and 'AD," ('Anno Domini,' or "The Year of Our Lord.) But more importantly, I see a standard carved out in stone, on how to live with God and enjoy Him forever, which carries right over to loving oneself and others, especially the unlovable.

Read the book of Romans and you will see the power of the birth, life, death, and resurrection of the Son of God; how it transformed one man named Saul from being a persecutor of Jesus, to probably his chief advocate, because he had a very personal encounter with him on the road to Damascus. We all have access to a relationship with the Father, through the Son, with His Spirit residing in us and directing us right into eternity. It's just a matter of accepting the Free Gift of Salvation and trusting that Jesus is who he says he is and that he will do what he says he will do. To Him be the glory! Merry Christmas!

Glorifying God in Unusual Circumstances

It has been a marvelous two days in the McCann household. I have gotten to live out both aspects of Man's Chief End..."to glorify God and enjoy Him (for now and) forever." Today's post is just about one way we can glorify God. Randy flew down to Orlando Thursday afternoon to take Matthew to a football game. (I don't know who played.) They spent the night a little above Jacksonville and started the trek north at 9 AM on Friday, which was about the time our previously forecast winter storm was gearing up to make its appearance. I had an Amos Cottage Christmas party scheduled for around 2, and it looked as though it was going to be delayed until Monday. That was fine with me since I couldn't find a fruit tray anywhere in Winston Salem. I figured the whole thing would be cancelled anyway, as the Cottage runs on the public school schedule. Not so...got an email at 9:30 that the party would be at 10:30, so I got dressed faster than I ever have in my life, bought some red and green fruit, (apples and strawberries) and pulled into the parking lot just in time to see the sleet starting to fall. Santa and Mrs. Claus were there with their bag full of gifts, along with the Guild elves who served food, and the staff. It was a gala affair and the children truly enjoyed their gifts and were so appreciative. One little boy piped up prior to opening his gifts, "I don't care what Santa gives me. I'm going to be happy!" And he was. That child's words glorified God, because he was thankful for others' kindnesses.

The sleet turned to snow right on schedule, around 12:30, and it was time to get inside and hunker down and prepare for the boys' arrival. I got a call around 4:30 that they were 5 minutes away. Twenty minutes later, I got another call, but from a neighbor, asking, "What are Randy and Matthew doing walking up Meadowlark?" (The street right outside our neighborhood.) I told her I didn't know and for her to keep going to the church to get her daughter's car before things got worse. You know what I did next--called Randy and asked about what had happened. He said he was on the road one minute and off the next. They slid into the field and could not get the car back on the road, so we ate dinner, went down to see what we could do, to no avail, then came back and called USAA, and waited for them to call back. (If any of you locals passed us, you saw 3 figures looking like the Beverly Hillbillies carrying luggage and backpacks down the hill to our car parked in the Subway parking lot.) En route home we saw another car do the same thing, but closer to the edge of the field.

USAA called after dinner and the guys slowly made their way back in Randy's car to the site. It was still there and no one had hit it. As they awaited the wrecking company, a "renegade" wrecker pulled over to see if he could help. He tried, but to no avail. Finally, the USSA wrecker showed up and they had sweet success. I got the call they were on their way down the hill in Matthew's wide- tired Florida car, with Randy driving it, and Matthew following slowly behind. (He's never driven in snow mind you.) In the meantime, I couldn't just sit there waiting, so I went downstairs, got the snow shovel, and started shoveling the driveway, which brings to mind, how peaceful the night was, as I shoveled the snow, preparing a place for their tires to keep them from sliding into the garage and our brick wall. It was so beautiful, listening to the crunch of the snow and being amazed at how easy it was to lift and throw, lift and throw. I found myself thanking God that He had gotten them all the way to where they would find neighbors who cared, and so close to home. Once they got home, it was a wonderful thing to shut the doors at 7:30 and say, "Thank You, Father, for getting Randy and Matthew home safely. Thank You that we can trust You for all our needs. To You be the glory for the great things You have done." And that's another way to glorify God...to offer up a continuous flow of thankfulness for all you have and are. I hope, as we near Christmas, that you are making an effort to look past the material/commercialism that bombards us, and purposefully bestow peace and goodwill to all you see...because... that's another way to glorify God.

An Even More In-Depth Look at God's Glory

Q. How shall we know when we aim at God's glory?

A. (1.) When we prefer God's glory above all other things; above credit, estate, relations; when the glory of God coming in competition with them, we prefer his glory before them. If relations lie in our way to heaven, we must either leap over them, or tread upon them. .

(2.) We aim at God's glory, when we are content that God's will should take place, though it may cross ours.

(3.) We aim at God's glory when we are content to be outshined by others in gifts and esteem, so that his glory may be increased. A man that has God in his heart, and God's glory in his eye, desires that God should be exalted.

2. We glorify God by a frank confession of sin.

3. We glorify God by believing. Faith knows there are no impossibilities with God, and will trust him where it cannot see him.

4. We glorify God, by being tender of his glory. God's glory is dear to him as the apple of his eye. .

5. We glorify God by fruitfulness. It is not profession, but fruit that glorifies God.

6. We glorify God by being contented in that state in which Providence has placed us. We give God the glory of his wisdom, when we rest satisfied with what he carves out to us.

7. We glorify God by working out our salvation with Him...trusting that He has provided reconciliation with Him through His Son, Jesus.

8. We glorify God by living to God...laying ourselves out wholly to Him as vessels to help and encourage others.

9. We glorify God by walking cheerfully. It brings glory to God, when the world sees a Christian has that within him that which can make him cheerful in the worst times; that can enable him, with the nightingale, to sing with a thorn at his breast. The people of God have ground for cheerfulness. They are justified and adopted, and this creates inward peace; it makes music within, whatever storms are without, 2 Cor. 1:4. I Thess. 1:6. If we consider what Christ has wrought for us by his blood, and wrought in us by his Spirit, it is a ground of great cheerfulness, and this cheerfulness glorifies God. It reflects upon a master when the servant is always drooping and sad; sure he is kept to hard commons, his master does not give him what is fitting; so, when God's people hang their heads, it looks as if they did not serve a good master, or repented of their choice, which reflects dishonour on God. As the gross sins of the wicked bring a scandal on the gospel, so do the uncheerful lives of the godly. Psalm 100:2, "Serve the Lord with gladness." Your serving him does not glorify him, unless it be with gladness. A Christian's cheerful looks glorify God; religion does not take away our joy, but refines it; it does not break our violin, but tunes it, and makes the music sweeter.

10. We glorify God by standing up for his truths. Much of God's glory lies in his truth. God has entrusted us with his truth, as a master entrusts his servant with his purse to keep. We have not a richer jewel to trust God with than our souls, nor has God a richer jewel to trust us with than his truth. Truth is a beam that shines from God. Much of his glory lies in his truth. When we are advocates for truth we glorify God. Jude 3, "That ye should contend earnestly for the truth."

Thank you, Mr. Watson, for an in depth look at God's glory. May it shine in and through each one of us.

Who Gets the Glory Today?

I have spent a lot of time wondering what to write next, and feel I should just stick with the facts. My kids used to say, "Everything isn't about God, Mom," but in reality...it really is. To have an understanding of Christmas, one has to understand why there ever was a need for Christ's birth, and how God's plan for eternal life for all mankind came into being. I hope this gives you a better understanding of God, the Father of all creation.

The Westminster Confession of Faith, was drawn up by a group of theologians way back in 1646, to provide clarity on issues of doctrine, worship, government and discipline of the Church of England. They state: "Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever." I love how that rolls off the tongue. I would love to take the time and put the support in my own words, but alas, someone has beaten me to it and he has done a great job, I hope you get understanding of why, "It's ALL about God." (This is from a Mr. Watson.) I'm going to give it to you in small amounts because it can be overwhelming if you aren't a seminary student, who craves this history, and I just think it gives you time to digest the importance of each topic. ENJOY!

"Here are two ends of life specified. 1. The glorifying of God. 2. The enjoying of God.

First. The glorifying of God, 1 Pet. 4:11. "That God in all things may be glorified." The glory of God is a silver thread which must run through all our actions. l Cor. 10:31. "Whether therefore ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." Everything works to some end in things natural and artificial; now, man being a rational creature, must propose some end to himself, and that should be, that he may lift up God in the world. He had better lose his life than the end of his living. The great truth asserted is that the end of every man's living should be to glorify God. Glorifying God has respect to all the persons in the Trinity; it respects God the Father who gave us life; God the Son, who lost his life for us; and God the Holy Ghost, who produces a new life in us; we must bring glory to the whole Trinity.

When we speak of God's glory, the question will be moved, What are to understand by God's glory?

Answer. There is a twofold glory: 1. The glory that God has in himself, his intrinsic glory. Glory is essential to the Godhead, as light is to the sun: he is called the "God of glory." Acts 7:2. Glory is the sparkling of the Deity; it is so co-natural to the Godhead, that God cannot be God without it. The creature's honour is not essential to his being. A king is a man without his regal ornaments, when his crown and royal robes are taken away; but God's glory is such an essential part of his being, that he cannot be God without it. God's very life lies in his glory. This glory can receive no addition, because it is infinite; it is that which God is most tender of, and which he will not part with. Isa. 48:11, "My glory I will not give to another." God will give temporal blessings to his children, such as wisdom, riches, honour; he will give them spiritual blessings, he will give them grace, he will give them his love, he will give them heaven; but his essential glory he will not give to another. King Pharaoh parted with a ring off his finger to Joseph, and a gold chain, but he would not part with his throne. Gen. 41:40. "Only in the throne will I be greater than thou." So God will do much for his people; he will give them the inheritance; he will put some of Christ's glory, as mediator upon them; but his essential glory he will not part with; "in the throne he will be greater."

2. The glory which is ascribed to God, or which his creatures labour to bring to him. 1 Chron. 16:29, "Give unto the Lord the glory due unto his name." And, 1 Cor. 6:20, "Glorify God in your body, and in your spirit." The glory we give God is nothing else but our lifting up his name in the world, and magnifying him in the eyes of others. Phil. 1:20, "Christ shall be magnified in my body."

Maybe this is where we God-followers* fall short right from the get-go. Who are we magnifying? Ourselves or God? And are we glorifying God in our bodies and spirits?

*I use the word "God-follower," because we have to realize first that there is but one Creator and Lover of our souls. Everything else just falls into place after that.

"Knowing the certainty of things you have been taught."

What I used to stress about more than anything was putting Christ back in Christmas. Oh, don't think that I think he ever left, but do know that I know that we have often turned our backs on him, neglected him, or just put him on hold, and there's no potential to do it more than at Christmas, because that is when we start to think of others and their wants and needs, all in the name of Jesus. I used to pity my mother when she would talk about getting an orange in her stocking (a sock) and if they were really lucky, a peppermint stick and an old handmade rag doll, which she always cherished. They grew up in south Georgia, and life was simple in a complicated way. (Literally, the dolls were made from old rags that had accumulated throughout the years, probably left over from quilting, etc.) The point here is, she and her siblings were always thankful for the little they got. I think that's the way it is supposed to be, and it's not always.

I just looked online at the news and discovered Rachel Duffy's column on "Christians to Blame for a Secular Christmas." Here is a portion of what she had to say: "If Christians truly desire to bring sacredness and religious significance back to Christmas, then it's silly to look to retailers or the First Family. Instead, let it begin, as charity does, at home. Families can start by reintroducing the season of Advent and the spirit of reflection and spiritual preparation that once occupied the four weeks leading up to Christmas.

Instead of allowing ourselves to get swept up in the whirlwind of "holiday" parties, useless gift exchanges and harried shopping, we can use those weeks to prepare our hearts and homes in meaningful ways for the Prince of Peace. Make time for family prayer, singing and the lighting of the Advent wreath. Choose cards and decorations that have religious significance.

How many homes have a prominently displayed nativity scene at Christmas time? My guess is not too many. The same goes for Christmas carols. Does your playlist include more Frosty and Santa Baby than Silent Night and Handel's Messiah? How about keeping those lights on and the tree in the house for the twelve days of Christmas - you know the twelve that follow Christmas day. Or consider caroling or having a Christmas gathering after December 25th? We have only ourselves to blame when we lose these beautiful traditions.

Should Christians be concerned about the secularization of Christmas? Sure they should. I resent school "winter" concerts, "holiday" parades, and the ridiculous fear that prevents people from wishing each other "Merry Christmas!" with total abandon.

But Christmas starts with us. In our hearts. In our homes. And in a very simple decision to reclaim the silence, joy, and quiet simplicity of that first Christmas in Bethlehem when God chose to speak to mankind in the small cry of a newborn baby."

I feel compelled for the next few weeks to give myself and readers a reminder of "the reason for the season." The Christmas Story was prophesied in the Old Testament many times, most notably in the books of Psalms and Isaiah (7:14; 50:6; 53). Most of my New Testament references are from Luke, because I love the way it starts out:

Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. Therefore, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.

It just makes sense to "know the certainty of the things you have been taught, " doesn't it?

It really began with God, the creator of heaven, earth, its contents, and all mankind, having a very special plan since before the beginning of time. God knew His image-bearers, MANKIND, would someday grow tired of paradise here on earth, and take their eyes off Him. We all know the story of Adam and Eve and the fall of man. (If not, Google "The Book of Genesis." ) The first and classic case of, "I want to do it MY way." We've paid for that decision that put up a barrier between us and God, (sin, which is turning away from God) ever since.

The GOOD NEWS (Gospel) is that God foresaw it all and knew the very day and hour that He was going to save us from eternal death, because that is the result of sin. He knew that it would require Him making a personal appearance to get our attention, because you see, through the course of time, His children began to create other gods in a desperate attempt to restore their broken relationship with Him. (This helps explain that deep yearning that is never satisfied fully, but can be satiated in ways that benefit us and others when we seek Him, or that drive us further away from Him when our attention is drawn away from Him through other man-made gods...money, addictions/habits, position, power; you get the idea.) His Word tells us that He is a jealous God, protective of His children, as any good parent would be.

There's more. Meditate on this until the next blog: "I, even I, am he who comforts you. Who are you that you fear mortal men, the sons of men, who are but grass, that you forget the Lord your Maker, who stretched out the heavens and laid the foundations of the earth, that you live in constant terror every day because of the wrath of the oppressor, who is bent on destruction? For I am the Lord your God, who churns up the sea so that its waves roar --the Lord Almighty is his name. I have put my words in your mouth and covered you with the shadow of my hand--I who set the heavens in place, who laid the foundations of the earth, and who say to Zion, 'You are my people.' "

The Wee Hours

Here it is, the wee hours of the night, with no "we," just "me." I've been wondering what has attributed to my lack of sleep, and have determined that the dark chocolate and almond candy Randy received today is the culprit. He's sleeping away so I guess I am the only one affected. The brownies that I took out of the oven probably didn't help. I guess I'm just on chocolate/caffeine overload. I hate it when I do that. (I put a small brownie into my mouth, then quickly took it out and threw it away, thinking this would happen, but hoping it wouldn't.)

It could also be attributed to Leah's trip to Singapore in a few hours, but I really don't think so. We said our good-byes with joy and anticipation for her when we left Orlando Tuesday morning. She reminded us that there have been 4 months in between some of our visits since we moved and we've all been just fine. Many people, all women, have asked if we have cried or are sad. I can honestly answer, "No," up to this point. I was so over-protected as a child that I determined early that if I ever had children I would raise them to be independent, and I think we have for the most part. Doing that involves allowing them to make decisions for themselves which may have negative consequences, but it is worth it to deal with these things while they are still under your roof, rather than have them out in the world defenseless because all their decisions had been previously made for them. I'm wondering if I'm a hard-hearted mother because I am so happy for her.

Friday AM:

And she's OFF! At least as far as we know. We know she made it to LA safely, because we got a picture of the Universal Studio's sign from Hollywood. She's traveling with about 7 males, all of different ages, and they wanted to do something fun with their 9 hour layover, so, since they are all employees, Universal Studios it was. She had a headache all day, which was the only thing that gives me concern about the whole trip. (She inherited terrible migraines from my father's side of the family. They can last for days.) The last call I made was at midnight, and they were trying to find one of the group's ticket on the computer, and it was just not coming up. I am praying she gets a lot of sleep on the plane, so she will be rested...somewhat.

Which brings me to today! Our beautiful old trees are bare for the most part since we arrived back from FL, and that's OK, because the wind has blown most of their clothing away, and Randy has a reprieve from leaf duty until next fall. I love watching him out there, doing everything he can to stay ahead of the next gust of wind. The leaf piles are very tempting to jump into, but I did it our first year here and discovered very hard ground below...enough to jar my teeth! (I still want to do cartwheels that I never could do, but the fear of a cast keeps both feet firmly planted on the ground.)

I think I told you last year that Randy and I are "birders" now. We have bird feeders and houses all over the backyard so we can watch our little furry friends at work and play. The Eastern Bluebird, one of the most beautiful birds I've ever seen in my life, is ubiquitous right now. Randy and I keep a pair of binoculars handy year-round so we can observe the wildlife from above. So help me, I think they are condo shopping already for spring. A male bluebird went into the nicest house, then the female shooed him out, stayed a couple of seconds and flew to the next birdhouse. A red-headed woodpecker then shooed her away. Yesterday, I saw what appeared to be 5 hawks playing with the wind. It looked so relaxing, just catching a little gust here and there and just coasting. I love it when I can do that.

I also saw our 4 resident wild turkeys before Thanksgiving. I hope they are still there; and I'm sad to say, there is another lone goose in our yard on the shoreline. (Don't get teary-eyed yet, Latcia. I just looked out again, and it has been joined by 12 of its friends.) It's been there for at least 2 days, so maybe it's coming out of its funk if it lets others into its respite territory, which is what our house is...a respite, but only for the single or hurting geese. I've also seen 2 deer across the pond already and we have the most beautiful Great Egret (so help me, I thought they only lived in Florida) and Blue Herons living just at the end of our pond in what appears to have become a wildlife sanctuary. The only thing that mars my view is an empty white plastic bottle on the opposite shoreline. I am going to wait until a very COLD day, when I am positive the snakes are tucked away for the winter, before I put on my bright yellow, knee high snake/goose boots, and make the trek to the other side. I'm sure that will be a story all its own. In the meantime, I hope you have no "wee hours" you can talk about, but only sweet dreams the next morning.

Lest I forget, WELCOME MATTHEW, my newest follower. (Don't forget to put up a picture!)AND...if you'd like to follow Leah's adventures, let me know, and I will send you the link.

Going and Coming Home

What a marvelous Thanksgiving we have had. It started out with Leah flying to Winston Salem, Sunday a week ago. We picked her up after teaching our little four year olds in Sunday School, and took her out to lunch with a quick stop at Dillard's in "town." (That's what I call Greensboro when we go there to pick up people from the airport. We don't have a kitchen area in our Dillard's in W.S.)

We halfway put up a tree on Sunday night and celebrated Christmas with her on Monday night, since she is off to Singapore in 3 more days. We left bright and early on Wednesday morning headed for my sister, Linda's, in Jonesboro, GA. We had smooth sailing all the way to the Atlanta Airport to pick up Matthew around 3:30, and he only had a 5 minute curbside wait until we got there. How's that for timing? That was the end of our smooth sailing for 2 full hours. What should have taken only twenty minutes, turned into 2 hours of bumper to bumper creepy, crawly traffic, but that was OK, because we had our two children in the car and the front seaters were a captive audience.

We got to my sister's house around 5:30 and had a bountiful meal of Red, Hot and Blue ribs and pulled pork and chicken, along with all the side dishes coming from the local rib shack that Randy and the kids had somehow located. Needless to say, the house was a flurry of activity as we all began to prepare for the next day. Thanksgiving Day dawned bright and sunny, which is unusual. My mother used to tell me how GA had been in drought conditions for the good part of the year, and then I'd go home and it would inevitably rain. I remember as a child, sitting in the car at the Green Stamp trading store while it poured, thinking, "I will never live in GA when I am old, because it rains too much." My mother was inside trading in her green stamps she had collected and that I had licked and prepared for her, and when she got back in the car, I told her of my new decision. I don't think she believed me, but I know she eventually did, as we have never lived in GA since Randy and I married. Of course, now I would say that because of the traffic!

Getting back to Thanksgiving Day...my mother used to worry about my sisters and I not getting together after she was gone. No worries. We have a "sister's weekend" once a year and have been to places such as Asheville and Savannah, with Baton Rouge being the latest. Thanksgiving is our big day with all the families getting together to give thanks for all we have. This year's was the biggest of all. We had first and second and third cousins together for the first time since we were all kids and had those old timey reunions in South GA. I believe there was a total of 29 of us. Needless to say, everyone brought something and it was just too much, but it was also too good, so no one did too much complaining.

I guess what blessed Randy and I to pieces was that our children were under one roof again. The phone would ring and I knew it wasn't for me because everyone who called us on a consistent basis was right there. It was very comforting. I know now how my mother must have felt when she knew we were all tucked in our beds once again only a room away. Which brings to mind...HOME. Matthew and Leah always say, "It's nice to be home," when they get to Winston Salem. Randy and I think that is so funny, as we have only lived there for 2 years and they are only there a few days at a time when they visit. They each have their own rooms--Leah's is the same, I just painted her furniture black and added a new comforter along with granite tops on her dresser and desk, and Matthew's was all new, so there is not a drop of familiar in his downstairs room, but he especially always says, "It's nice to be HOME." I say the same thing when I go to GA. I said the same thing when we crossed over the GA line into FL as we headed south to Orlando on Saturday. We went to the church that I had worked at in Windermere for Sunday services, and I said it again as we pulled up and saw so many familiar faces. My dear friend, Gail, who had also worked at the church, and her husband David, had invited us for dinner on Saturday night, so we made a plan to rendezvous at the church for 11:00 services. We all sat on the same pew, along with Jared, a roommate and friend, and Pastor Chuck acknowledged these "two wonderful ladies" he had worked with for years and our families. It was great to be HOME.

The first year I was in Winston Salem, I missed the love and acceptance of home, and I truly believe that is what makes home, HOME. You know the saying, "Home is where the heart is." Well, I have finally determined that LOVE is where the heart is most happy and that's where God wants us to feel at home...LOVE is His greatest gift (1 Corinthians 13.) I used to tell the Lord during those days of transition, "Well, Lord, if Windermere is the only place I will ever experience that kind of love, 'tis better to have been that loved and lost, than never to have been that loved at all.' (Sorry, Elizabeth, I took a little creative license there to make a point.) I had no idea at the time that He had some wonderful people that He had divinely set down at Brookberry Farm, and a couple of them asked me right off the bat to lead a women's Bible study. I think I've told you before that we started with 9, a year and a half ago, and are up to 23 now. It's amazing the love we have for each other. We are all ages, but we have a love connection that won't quit. The ladies just keep inviting their neighbors in, or they see how close we are and want to be a part. One lady moved into the neighborhood BECAUSE she was told by her realtor there was a Bible study. Every time we put the word out for a new study, we get well-wishes from those who can't attend due to work schedules. I love it and can't think of anywhere else I would rather be than at Brookberry Farm. It is home.

Thankful to be Thankful

As you can see, I am on hiatus from writing about anything based on one particular topic lately. I have had a lot on my plate, but it's all fun stuff. First off, the Amos Cottage Pie sale is going to be coming to an end in approximately 18 hours. We sold an assortment of almost 600 pies, which included Moravian chicken, chicken with veggies, pumpkin, apple and pecan. Mrs. Pumpkin and her helpers baked them all. Leah flew in today from Orlando, and she will be helping me hand out pies at Mrs. Pumpkin's facility in about 9 hours. (It's 1:13 AM, and I decided to write for a few minutes.)

Another activity, and probably THE MOST FUN THING I've been a part of in a long time, took place last night. One of my new friends of 2 years here just turned 50. Her husband threw her a beautiful surprise party at Graylyn. (Google "Graylyn in Winston Salem.") I was asked to do the decorations, which was a privilege for me. It was especially rewarding because, the book I am feverishly gathering information for is tied to this specific estate. It is located across the street from Reynolda House, the "bungalow" of R. J. Reynolds, tobacco king. (Does Winston & Salem ring a bell?)

Back to Graylyn. Upon arrival, you are met by the valet and butler. It's just too cool...like something out of "The Great Gatsby." The reception was held in a beautifully dark-paneled study, with a toasty fire blazing at the far end of the room, and a pianist playing throughout the night at the opposite end. Candles and small vases of red roses and freesias were sprinkled everywhere throughout the room, giving it a most romantic quality. From this room, we entered the enclosed stone porch with arched windows, that looked out over the beautiful grounds. The tables were covered in white, with white china and silver utensils. What would complete the party decor better than a black napkin laid in the center with a rose bowl full of 14 partially opened red roses right up above the lip, 4 votives at each corner of the napkin that were small versions of the rose bowls, and pontif shaped black napkins sitting at the center of each plate. It was gloriously beautiful if I do say so myself. (I got the idea when we were guests at the PGA Spa down in West Palm Beach, compliments of Phillip Morris...is that ironic or what? Bernadette Peters was the entertainment of the night, but I thought it was the centerpieces. I couldn't take my eyes off of them!) Another friend and I walked the woods and pulled up still-green honeysuckle vines, stripped them, and placed them in the bowls to dry a few weeks ago. For those of you who want a beautiful effect, roll about 6 of them, all different lengths, around your hand and place them in the bowl. They give the roses a place to nestle and add interest to just a bowl of stems. Grape vine, or any vine works as far as I know.

I didn't have anything to do with the cake, which was out of this world, but it too, was a work of art. All in all, it was a most fun culmination of honoring a wonderful person. It's a wonderful thing to work in one's sweet spot!

Lastly, our ladies' Bible study group is making armchair pouches for one of our area nursing homes. We are making 70 of them. Sounds very simple, doesn't it? One of our ladies is very talented when it comes to sewing and designing just about anything with fabric. She designed and orchestrated a plan for all of us to meet at the clubhouse across the street after our last Bible study. We hoped to have them completed in a day or so. She had the large conference room so organized, you would think it was Santa's workshop. We all busily applied ourselves to our individual tasks and by the end of the day, I believe we had completed ONE. Here we are two days later and we are only half through. Each one takes an hour and a half, but they don't show seams! Needless to say, those of us who take the path of least resistance are being stretched beyond our limits, but it has all proved to be fun and we've all learned something to boot...and that's that WE ARE ALL DIFFERENT, but we can CHOOSE to be committed to a good cause and complete it with excellence.

Ran just woke up and came looking for me. (I've told him he should do that as long as I've got these cough spells going on. I could be passed out somewhere in the house for all he knew, gasping for breath.) I'm at the end of this, I hope, and this is the first time he's ever gotten up. Here's the analogy that comes to mind: you can teach an old dog new tricks, BUT they may be a little delayed the older the dog. It's very cold here and rainy. My feet are a block of ice, so I am going to go and warm them on his warm legs while he is still in a groggy state. He's very kind like that. I hope you all are rested for the new day and are blessed to pieces with happy, unexpected surprises.

(Bo, I would love for you to make some comments on your history and Graylyn, if you will.) AS MANY AS YOU WANT. I can't think of anything more interesting.

A Happy Skippy Jumpy Sort of Day

WARNING: THIS BLOG CONTAINS GRAPHIC LANGUAGE. NOT FOR THE FAINT_HEARTED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. (If you're reading this you probably know me well, so that's not for you, but it is for those of you from other countries who just happen by, other than Larry in Cameroon.)

To explain the title, when Leah was a little girl and was just exceptionally happy, we described her as having a "happy, skippy, jumpy day," because that's what she did. I am having a "happy, skippy, jumpy day," because that is what I am doing. I went with a good attitude to the "cough" specialist today, as ready as I'd ever be (or so I thought) to have the procedure done where they put a monitor down my throat and have me drink sips of saline water...sounds like torture to me, then they monitor my throat muscles and swallowing. (I can't even imagine passing the first swallow at this point.) Eventually they go to applesauce and do the same. Hmmm. As she was explaining all this, I figured I'd better interrupt and tell her that I had just the day before finished my antibiotic and steroids, and still had a remnant of a cough. (I thought about coughing for good measure, but decided against it at the last minute. Too many swine flu scares going on around here, and I didn't want her health to feel compromised and have her start concentrating on herself instead of me.)She left the decision to proceed up to me. You know what I chose. REPRIEVE! WE decided it was best I wait until my cough is the normal allergic cough. I am so happy. Our friend/co-worker, Michael is here, and he's already mentioned "pictures, U TUBE" you know, guy things like that, and now he can U TUBE away, because there will be NOTHING TO SEE. (They were placing a monitor down my nose and throat for about 18 hours to monitor what makes me cough, etc. It was and will, eventually, stick out of my nose overnight...but not TONIGHT!)

I also got a phone call around 10 and it was my one of my pastor/bosses from Windermere. They were in staff meeting and thinking about me! I felt like I had my own children's TV show with the magic mirror...you know, where the host/hostess says, "And I see..." and makes up a slew of names hoping one will hit home out in TV land, except this time it was a telephone, and I was saying in my head, "And I hear Chuck, Rachel, Troy..." It was great hearing their voices and knowing that some things don't ever change. They were as rowdy as usual, and that's a good thing. It sure kept work from being boring back in the day. (By the way, if Chuck Carter ever calls you and asks if you know what day this is, have ready, "Yes, it's the first day of the rest of my life." He'll laugh his head off and you win! A BIG SHOUT OUT to Troy who is, I'm sure, enjoying THE BLOG. Well, I believe he said he was "reading" it, or something akin to that. "Following" maybe.

Since today is catch up day, I have something else that will make those of you who know me well, laugh...and this is the laugh... I am the treasurer of our Amos Cottage Guild (which fundraises to help children with emotional disorders. I've talked about it before. Google it. Mr. Google explains it far better than I ever could.)It's a wonderful cause and I am thankful to be a part of it. I am being stretched to pieces because we all know my brain is not comfortable in the number's world, but Randy has taken me under his wing, and we are a TEAM. We're right in the middle of a huge pie sale/fundraiser...baked by Mrs. Pumpkin, herself, and to date we have sold over 570 pies just in time for Thanksgiving company. Leah arrives after church on Sunday, just in time to help her mom hand out pies on Monday. I love how that works. She is the one you want on your team when the rubber hits the road. We will put up a Christmas tree while she is here and celebrate Christmas early since she is off to Singapore with Universal Studios for 4 months, in early December.

It's all good. Word for the blog for the day: BLISS! I know you know what it means...a peaceful happy, skippy, jumpy, state of mind and being. May all your days contain it.

Catch Up

Hello, everyone,

Sorry I've been away for awhile. I have had the most horrible cough for 6 weeks now. I have been to specialists in regard to my chronic "allergy" cough, and it turned into what was finally identified as "the croup," only 10 days ago. I've been on every medication you can imagine (penicillin & steroids included; not happy but I seem to be on the road to recovery finally); been poked and prodded, and have two more tests in the next two days; one which involves having a tube inserted down my throat for 24 hours to monitor my cough. I am not looking forward to that one, but I will be a trooper, because doctors are our friends...doctors are our friends...doctors are our friends...

I'm getting ready to start chronicling the writing of the book on Brookberry Farm. God has placed so many wonderful people in my path, I can't let one person or situation be overlooked. SO...stay tuned!

Debbie

Before I continue on with the "goose saga," I need to let you know you never,ever call the geese, "Canadian geese." They are called "Canada geese." You may as well learn the correct term, because one never knows where the little buggers will turn up. (My sister Scarlette and her husband Dave, have their own stories about how to get them off your lake. I have made a little reference to it already, but will not tell you where, as I do not want to incriminate them.) :)

Since I had a short hiatus with no geese flying in except for the one, my heart began to melt toward the others. I felt maybe I had been a little too hard on them, especially the lazy ones. I feel sorry for lazy people! I pictured myself getting out there and putting them through a goose boot camp, but I don't believe they are trainable. They start running from me as soon as I slam the door now. I think I am at least something to contend with these days in the realm of Geesedom.

To get back to the story, the death of the goose took all the vim and vigor out of me for awhile, and just when I thought I was going to renew my quest to rid the yard of geese, I looked out and saw something moving near the pond. I got the binoculars and there, to my utter disbelief, was another goose...a lame one this time, from the way it just stayed in the same place. I wouldn't let Mollie go in the backyard, and ended up calling the goose people again. They recommended I call a rescue group, which I did, and I got a recording. I left my name and number and explained the situation, and waited...and waited...and waited. Someone finally called me back about 2 1/2 days later and listened with great sensitivity. She told me someone would be out to pick it up soon to minister to its needs. No one showed up. The goose seemed to become a lot more restless on day four, and I began to think this might be the last ditch effort to defeat death before it left this life. Just the thought of having Randy to dispose of the goose made me sick. I didn't want to start a goose graveyard in my yard, and I didn't want to just put it in the trashcan. How insensitive would that be? I thought about a burial at pond (as opposed to at sea) but I didn't want the feathers to block the fish's airways, and then I'd be responsible for their demise to boot.

I finally got a phone call on the morning of day five, bright and early, and heard the voice on the other side apologizing for not getting back to me sooner. There had been a mix-up as to who was on call. I told her that I thought it was too late, and made my way to the the window. I couldn't see anything where the goose once sat, so I told her I'd go look. I was a little fearful thinking about what if it had hobbled into the overgrowth next door and was suddenly going to have one last burst of energy to peck me in the eye...so I sent Randy. (I asked him to wear glasses, because his mind doesn't work like mine, and he wasn't seeing the big picture, but he wouldn't, and I couldn't risk him changing his mind if I told him of my concern, because then I would have to do it after all. I committed right then, that if he got hurt, I would be both his eyes for the rest of his life with no complaining.)He came back unscathed and with a negative report. The goose had flown the coup, or Mother Nature had once again taken care of one of its own. No tell-tale goose feathers or parts were found. Meditation: Everyone just needs to take time to "recoup" sometimes. It's good for the soul and may just be the best thing you ever did, or not, but you won't know til you try.

Just when I was ready to declare defeat, the Calvary rushed in, devoid of uniforms, but definitely with a weapon in hand. Our developer had bought a Goose Gun. There must be a better name. It looks like a cap pistol, and once it's shot, there is a delay and then a loud shotgun blast with a spark. Well, that scared the living daylights out of them and sent them on the fly like there was no tomorrow. They circled around a few times, squawking, with their irritation evident, only to land on the other side of the neighborhood on one of the other two ponds. This has gone on the whole summer, and I am happy to say it is working for the most part. I quickly volunteered our yard as a place to shoot from and got to see their reaction firsthand. After about the third day, they began to fly about 60 feet away from the 50 foot pop that emanates once the gun is fired, but they did stop flying in regularly, and that's all I really wanted--a reprieve.

We made it into fall co-existing. They had old home week in the yard this early spring though, when they couldn't shoot the gun, because it was the geese's molting time again. Since they cannot fly during this time (Remember it looks like someone has plucked them to pieces and there are feathers everywhere? Bo made reference to it and the coyotes in an earlier "comment" post.)they were left alone. I thought that was VERY thoughtful of the developers. I had to resort to yelling from the porch again and sending Mollie out on the wild geese chases. She hadn't forgotten what she was supposed to do, but I had a time trying to get her to see the "Guard Goose" who stands guard and squawks directions from a lone position away from the others. He acts tougher than his cohorts and is the LAST to go into the water. He is also the one who stretches himself out and raises up out of the water screaming a death threat to Mollie every time. She just watches in wonder from the shore and then starts sniffing poo piles. (There's one for every flock, by the way, and others play "follow the leader" once the leader starts.)

What once claimed hours of my time, has now become an innocuous pastime I'm happy to say. The ducks have taken the geese's place on the pond and shore, even though I hear them flying overhead sometimes. The ducks just don't seem to be as messy, but stay-tuned, there may be a "Duck Saga" in the works and I don't even know it. Before I close this particular blog, I want to point out a few more meditations in regard to the geese:

1. They either choose their mates wisely or else they have a lot of patience; both are virtues that we should all emulate.

2. They cooperate when it gets down to planning and implementing a trip. (Migration)
Everyone knows what they are to do and they do it with excellence.

3. They are sensitive to life and death.

4. Some of them, just like us, don't know when it's time to GO. These lazy geese have worn out their welcome. I hope it does not hold true: once lazy, always lazy.

5. They seem to have a great sense of balance to their days, and rarely appear to be just wasting time. Eating declines the closer they get to flight time. They know better than to pack all that heavy baggage.

All lessons we could each learn that would make our lives easier and more enjoyable.

Swift as the Wild Goose Flies...and Dies

Nothing was going to stop these geese, so I strung another, lower string this time, from one end of the pond to the other. They learned to go in between and fly over. I was at my wits end when I decided to call the state wildlife something. I got someone with a very southern accent...VERY, and told him of my dilemma. He asked if we lived on a lot of land...me being so literal and all I was visualizing the farm, and I responded, "Yes." And he said, "Can you shoot?" I responded, "Well, this is North Carolina," to which he responded, "No, I mean can you shoot on your land?" I assured him that would not be a consideration in this neighborhood, and I wasn't quite sure where he was going with his train of thought. He seemed to back down from the idea of me shooting them, and then told me how he and his buddy could come out here and take care of them and we'd never see the Lula Belle's and Billy Bob's ever again, "You know what I mean?" Oh yeah, I got the picture and just visualized them reeling them in and throwing them in trashcans and hauling them off, with the geese squawking and screaming, OR NOT. No, I decided I would try a few more things before I called them again.

I believe we are at Plan E by now. People took to asking me how the "Goose Situation" was coming, people I didn't know, and I started to become nervous, because someone in this frame of mind is first up in the news in Orlando. (The evening news usually started with the animal stories, and I just knew they would take the geese side over ours if the local affiliates ever got wind about what I was doing.)Someone suggested we get a pellet gun and just shoot around them and it would scare them away. That was going to be THE LAST resort, until one day I had had ENOUGH. I stormed in from the back porch and went straight to the garage. I picked up what I thought would do the trick and came back in and said, "OK, Randy, I've had enough. Where are the bullets?" He looked up from the newspaper he was reading, and said very matter-of-factly, "You're not going to get very far. That's a paint gun." I told him to find a gun out of all the "beginner's guns" Matthew had inherited from grandfathers that we kept hidden in the attic and would pass down to our grandchildren someday, and to find some bullets and then go shoot around them...NOT AT THEM. So he found Matthew's pellet gun, along with some pellets, and it really did scare them off, but we had to do it about twice a day, as they would fly out about 10 feet and wait for us to go back in and they'd hop right back up in our yard. It was obvious that they were toying with us, and were trying to use reversed psychology, making us emotionally crazy as I had done to them. (You really do reap what you sow.)

I probably became TOO verbal after that, because people started telling me ways they had heard to get rid of the geese. Plan F involved me going to Sam's and buying the bulk Alka-seltzer. I was told to dilute it and pour it along the shoreline. I tore into those individual wrappers like a dog with a bone, about 100 of them, and plopped, plopped, fizzed fizzed, Oh what a relief it is'd, until I had two huge containers of fizzing, bubbling water to pour about a foot above the water line. (I didn't worry about it making it to the fish because it was so diluted, and it was the Alka-seltzer that was supposed to do whatever it did to repel the geese on the surface.) I poured and poured and had to make some more. It really did seem to work, but as I had to tell my neighbor later on, it rained and the geese were back the next day, and I wasn't willing to do that particular plan again. (By the way, if you need any Alka-seltzers, I have plenty.)

I never made it to plan G. I was at the pool one day, and someone told me one of the geese had been killed accidentally, and ended with these words that were to haunt me until last week, when I heard an addendum to what I heard that day. (To back up, my first thought was, "Oh no. Did I kill it?" and "Can they trace it back to me?")Her words were, "You know they mate for life." No, I didn't know that. I couldn't get it out of my head how sad that must be to go the rest of your life doomed to never have a mate again. Your one true love gone forever. I wondered if they were in the early stages of their relationship or were in their twilight years, which was what I was hoping, but would never know. I came home from the pool and went straight to the back porch to look out to see if the geese were there. To my horror, there was only one goose there. It was the goose in mourning. I burst out crying, and would start up again, every time I looked out and it was there, all alone. I would just stand at the window and watch and pray that the other geese wouldn't black-ball it and it would be doomed to be a lone goose for the rest of its life. There was only one time that I recall that other geese tried to fly into our pond area at that time, and the single goose honked them away. Meditation: We all have our dark moments and just need time alone to recoup sometimes, even when others mean well and try to help. We just need to be respectful of each individual's needs

After about a week, the other geese did return and the loner would just hang out by itself on the outskirts of the flocks. I found myself counting geese everywhere I went to see if there were odd numbers of flocks and I always came up with an even number. It wasn't looking too bright for the single goose. I would see other single geese out and about in town, and started wondering if I maybe got them together, they could make a new policy on the "mate for life" rule. They could just be friends, couldn't they? Maybe nobody had ever tried before and didn't know what they would do if they were given a second chance!

There just didn't seem to be a way I could experiment with the geese, so I just watched and waited and kept counting, until one day, I got an odd number. I recounted those geese five times or more until I realized the goose was out of mourning and back with the flock. They would still swim in pairs, but the goose was obviously included back in. Meditation:"For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." (Romans 1:20) I also thought of the geese even living out Solomon's general observations in Ecclesiastes 3, entitled, "A Time for Everything." [There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance...]

Before I close I need to tell you what I found out last week that just made my week! I got it from goosehuntingtips.com. The male and female stay together all their life; it is one of their most natural Canada goose habits. If one should disappear the living Canada Goose generally finds another mate. Another interesting characteristic is that the family stays together for one year after the goslings are born. However, upon return to the breeding territory the goslings will leave the parents to fend for themselves.They will then fight for a mate and like the parents be with that mate for life. This is another natural of the many Canada goose habits."
See, there really was "nothing to fear, but fear itself." By the way...there's more.

Behold the Goose

One of the first things I loved doing when we first moved in was "Goose Watching." I would sit up in my office and gaze down to the pond and watch them congregate by the 100s. After watching for a long period of time I began to recognize their habits. Once it got warmer, they became very regimented. They were obviously getting ready to migrate, because they would have whole days of practicing take-offs; another day they would practice landings. It seemed as though there was a whole day put aside for each focus: eating, bathing/cleaning, fighting, and formations. I wish I had written down "The Priority for the Day." It would have been interesting to see if they did the same thing every day of the week. (I will try to do that this winter.)

Spring was obviously bursting forth, and one day I heard a cacophony coming from up above. I realized that the migration had begun, and even got to see the migrating geese take off in large numbers, circling back around to give the farewell dip before they headed north. I wondered why there were still others sitting on the pond, and assumed the flocks all had their own pilots who determined such things. But summer came and they stayed.

The geese who had looked so beautiful from afar, took on a new light when viewed pond-side in the light of spring and summer. They pooped at a rapid rate of green; multiplied by groups of 22, it seemed, per flock. Our back yard became a health hazard to the dog (Who would think she would like goose poo?) and a minefield to Randy and I as we searched for "clean" grass to step on. Evening pond walks took on a whole new look. Anyone watching us would think we were playing the game TWISTER without bending, or asking, "Mother, may I?" as we took giant steps to the next clear area.

I decided these lazy geese had to go from our backyard. I could tolerate the ones who came and left, but not these. Spring was here and summer was coming, and it would be a long time until fall came again, and they could hook up with the responsible geese again. Dire times call for drastic measures. I decided I would send Mollie, our dog, on a wild goose chase. She learned quickly, that when I let her out and whispered, "Go get 'em," to run to the edge of the pond and scare them into the water. That lasted about 2 days, but I didn't know that. I thought, "That was pretty easy. They know we have a dog now. They won't come back."

Silly me. They eventually walked to the water and would step in and honk at her and spread their wings. I became fearful that they would attack her, but so far, so good, because I warn them she is coming now. I stand on the balcony and scream, "Shoo, Geese, Shoo," at the top of my lungs. (I can't even imagine what the neighbors must think.) That stopped working too, so I had to go to plan C. Randy and I hauled huge rocks from a neighborhood rock pile (We got permission first.) and bordered the whole pond with them. I figured the geese wouldn't be able to step up. (We didn't think WE were ever going to be able to step up again after hauling all those rocks.)I was right, they didn't step up...they hopped up. I began to take it personally.

Plan D was obvious--buy some string and string up a line right at the rock line from one end of the property to the other. I didn't want to have to do it twice so I got hot pink string. The first goose chase with Mollie put them in a tither. They couldn't think fast enough to go under the string, so they had to fly over it. There were so many at one point, though, they couldn't fly all at once, and some ducked under. I went out a few days later and to my horror, there were goose feathers all over the yard. I figured a coyote must have gotten hold of a bunch of them, but all I saw were feathers, no body parts. (We know there are coyotes here because we were awakened one night that first spring to howling and squawking. It was horrible. I don't think Randy and I went back to sleep that night. It was the eeriest sound we have ever heard. The coyotes had found the goose eggs. It's survival of the fittest, so we were glad nature was taking care of itself.)

I was starting to feel sorry for them, because I figured all my master-minding had upset their emotional health, and maybe they were going to think they shouldn't stay in our yard. (I found out they molt all their feathers at once and produce new ones for the next migration.)I didn't want all those feathers to go to waste, so I picked the largest ones up with a glove on both hands, and tied them on the pink string at about 3 foot intervals. My thinking was that they would see the feathers and think, "We'd better not go there. Look what happened to the last goose who did. She obviously made an example out of them."

I am going to stop here for the night, because this is a long story; therefore there are a few meditations that came out of this and I cannot rush, so bear with me, and please do not send me all the ways to get rid of the geese. I need to let you know I am a goose advocate now. Will explain more tomorrow. In the meantime, the "Word for the blog for the day," is "cacophony" n. (ca-cof e ne) Jarring, discordant sound; dissonance. (I loved the comment yesterday. I still am trying not to feel guilty for just browsing in a bookstore and enjoying it so much. It's hard to break old habits.)

The Reason for the Season

Our first Christmas here at Brookberry Farm was a life-saver for me. It took my mind off of myself. I have learned that when a person starts to focus too much on themselves, unless they are trying to sort through giving up an unwanted personality trait like selfishness, etc., then they could be getting ready to step into the "depths of despair," we've all heard about. It doesn't take long go get to the "depth" part, which usually entails just putting your foot into the hole to begin with. It often starts with a thought, and peering into the "What if?" and then before you know it, you are swirling through the tunnel with all the mud and rocks around you, and wondering, "What am I going to do now?" I say this because there were years where I was singing right along with Elvis that I was going to have a "Blue Christmas." And I did. I let the hurry-scurry of the holidays deplete my joy. I was too tired to be happy. In fact, there was one Christmas where I hurriedly fixed Christmas Eve dinner for everyone, herded them into the car to go to the Christmas Eve service, and sat fuming in my seat, saying, "I hate Christmas," to myself. Our pastor looked back at me sitting in my sulkiness and mouthed, "Are you OK?" Every part of my body yelled, "NO," as my mouth formed the word. In fact, I couldn't wait for Christmas to be over, because if "Jesus was the reason for the season," I was not seeing Him anywhere, so why bother?

I've since realized that my expectations for myself and others were way too high. Everything does not have to be perfect. Go with the flow and you will be a happier person. Have you ever gone down "The Lazy River" at a water park? (The word "lazy" is what entices me, because it insinuates no responsibility on my part.) What's the point? You let the flow of the water take you wherever it will because you know there is a force that carries you and you will eventually end up right where you started, or you can even just keep on going, and can hop out wherever you want. You may bump into a few people, but nobody's yelling at you, because they all know that the current affects each one of us. It's a journey. Why not just do what you can to maneuver your inner tube, out of kindness to others, and then enjoy the ride?

I've got another saying on my wall right below the pictures of Leah and Matthew upstairs, which reminds me not to worry about them down in Florida. It says, "Life is a journey and only God holds the map." It used to say, "and only you hold the map." That is a terrifying thought to me...that I would be solely responsible for my future. I AM totally responsible for my actions, but I am so thankful that I KNOW who holds the map.


We had a marvelous time together that first Christmas here in Winston Salem, but it just went too fast, and our children were back in Florida before we knew it. Connie & Larry stayed an extra day, so we took them to see one our many North Carolina wineries. If you've never been to one and want to just drive up and look, it's OK. We've done it many times. The vistas are absolutely beautiful, especially in the summer when the grapes, in all their luxuriance, are hanging on happily to their vines, anticipating there is a greater purpose than for others to just behold their beauty. They are ripe for the harvest, and therefore ready to fulfill their purpose for being. Meditation: We have to remember that the grape is not evil in and of itself, but the magnitude of its use is what we must consider. Eating too many grapes or too much grape jelly or jam (sugar) is not good for anyone, especially a diabetic, or someone who is overweight. The same with wine and grape juice, or anything else for that matter. These things may make you ill, as can anything in excess. This is an area where each person must look within to determine what is best for them. Abstinence may even be your path, and that's never a bad thing if it keeps you healthy and out of trouble. I challenge you to give yourself a healthy once-over to see if there is anything that has an excessive hold on you. It may not even have anything to do with what you eat or drink, but may concern how you think and act. If you find something, turn in the other direction and walk away from the hole. You won't regret it.

Last of the Foot News

I had my last doctor's visit today, in regard to the bunion removal. I had gotten a call on Friday that my sweet doctor was not going to be available for a while, so I looked forward to meeting his son. He didn't look a thing like his dad, but he sure did have his bedside manner...attentive and kind. They x-rayed my foot and I could hardly see where the break was, even though the two pins they inserted were quite apparent. My foot looks all flaky and great. They both look like twins again, albeit fraternal ones. Dr. M., Jr. said I could go into a real tennis shoe on Friday. He suggested a good brand, and off I went to Dick's for a proper shoe. (By the way, everyone needs an arch, so invest in a podiatrist's opinion if you are having any foot pain. You won't regret it.)

I told him my other foot had hurt far more than the surgeried one ever did, and pointed to where I thought the tumor must be. I even went so far as to tell him that a quick zap with a laser would pulverize it and I didn't care if the minuscule pieces found their homes in my surrounding tissue. One difference between he and his dad...he didn't appear to have the same sense of humor Dad had. He suggested a shot instead, but quickly assured me that I wouldn't feel a thing, as he was going to cool it down first. He did, and after he had leaned my chair back so I couldn't watch, he s l o w l y injected the medication into my heel, and found out more than he wanted to know about our children. (He asked, mind you. I didn't just start talking about our kids!)

The good thing is I really had some good stuff to tell him...Matthew's appointment to the Student Government Association as a Justice (Seat # 4) at University of Central Florida, and Leah's just-hot-off-the-press announcement that she will be leaving for Singapore in early December to help open the new Universal Studios there. She'll be there through the end of March and we are all quite excited about it. I guess I am probably most excited about the fact that we will all get to spend Thanksgiving up in GA this year; something we haven't done in a long time. We will celebrate Christmas early and exchange phone calls probably A LOT!

To change the subject, it's cold in Winston Salem now that the darkness has come. We are expecting a frost here tonight; therefore I had to bring in orchids, and a variety of other tropical plants that I have placed all over the yard. We are expecting it to get down to 34 degrees tonight, but you wouldn't have known that on the walk I took with Mollie just 2 hours ago. The best way to describe the weather is it feels exactly equidistant from winter, into fall and spring. Do you know what I'm talking about? In the fall it feels like the beginning of winter, and at the epicenter of winter, this day is equidistant from spring. If you don't get it, I could explain it, but if you don't get it then it doesn't really matter. It does to me. I remember doing my water aerobics into late September down in Florida. Every early fall prior to our last fall there, I would sense a time where the thermostat had changed from the day/week before. The very last year we lived there, I remember sitting in the pool and saying out loud, "I just felt the thermostat change!" It was a marvelous experience and one I will never forget. Truly a flick of the switch. The light dims just a little, like a film has been placed over what we see, and the temperature lowers and dark and light grapple for who is going to win just a bit earlier. Check it out as spring approaches if you want to see for yourself. There are all kinds of things to look for, but I'd rather you discover them for yourself.

Randy's out in Branson, Missouri re-acquainting with old friends from all over the U.S., and beyond. He and a few others are receiving recognition for their part in starting food service theme-park yearly meetings years ago, that changed the face of how themeparks went from just hamburger and hotdog fare to hiring chefs and utilizing the culinary arts in their food service departments. I am very proud of him. They helped a lot of the small parks provide good food and effective managerial skills.

Speaking of which, one of our news channels suggested we "Shop the Triad," the name for our three adjacent cities: Winston Salem, Greensboro & Highpoint. (I hope.)Randy and I have felt more than ever that we need to support our local businesses. I want to challenge you to go offline between now and Christmas and shop locally if you can. I try to use every coupon that comes to this house that represents a small business, if I am in need of that business's services. I went to a small town store yesterday,with my coupon in hand, and the owner told me she was just trying to hold on to get through this quarter. I made my purchase, and promised to get the word out to shop at her establishment. If everyone just buys something small or recommends the business to another, it helps. The newscaster pointed out that it wasn't our large department stores that support our silent auctions, etc., that help profit our local charities, so we need to be cognizant of that. I know it's a Catch 22, but do your best, OK?

Phrase for the blog for the day: "Catch-22" (Taken from Widipedia) "a common idimoatic usage meaning 'a no-win situation" or a 'double bind' of any type. Read Joseph Heller's book of the same title for more examples and a good read.

Fast Forward to the Present For a Minute

What a mix of emotions these last two days have been. Yesterday was the funeral of one of our brave police officers who was killed in the line of duty. He and another officer were shot on October 7, in response to a domestic violence call at a local Bojangles restaurant. Sgt. Mickey Hutchens died this past Monday. It was very sad. His pastor said, "He was a great family man. He loved his children and his wife and his family. Mickey loved his family because he loved the Lord. He knew what love was."

There was a memorial service at Wait Chapel at Wake Forest University. Randy called while I was out, and during the service, and told me not to go toward 40 or Silas Creek due to the traffic. I was en route home and decided I could at least go OVER a bridge that would show the procession to the burial site. I just felt a need to pay my respects to his family and law-enforcement in general. I was amazed at how quickly I made my way to the bridge. NOTHING could have astounded and overwhelmed me more to look on both sides of the bridge and see police cars of every make and color with their blue lights flashing in silence. It was a steady stream as far as the eye could see in both directions. I've never seen anything like it. People were stopped on the other side and were paying their respects with their hands over their hearts. I just said a prayer for the families and added another prayer for the family of the man who shot them. My heart goes out to them every time I see them on the news. He was killed in the mayhem and they are left to clean up the mess on his part. As I looked at the stream of well-wishers, I couldn't help but hope that Winston Salem could be the first small/large town in the world to just say and mean, "We've had enough. We will no longer tolerate anything harmful to another. We will practice the Golden Rule: 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

Today, on the other hand, just flipped the page to what makes Winston Salem a fun place to live. It was a beautiful overcast, cold, fall day. The Bowman Gray, Jr., estate on Brookberry Farm had an auction. It was open to the public and yours truly was there front and center. I arrived at 9:35 AM to see people milling about looking for a treasure they would hopefully take home. I registered and got my number, lucky 47, and couldn't wait for the bidding to start, which it did right after 10:00. The auctioneer started with the Bob Timberlake limited edition pictures in the sitting room and then went to other originals and the rugs. I raised my hand a few times to drive up the bids, and could have kicked myself a few times for not being THE LAST NUMBER. But who knew?

I started to get the hang of hearing the auctioneer's voice go into the final drone, and stopped living in the "you snooze, you lose" realm. There was a Limoge box that went for $5. and a Tiffany tray with beautiful tulips that went for $30. HELLO! Don't pity me, I'm slow, but I did finally get it. I got a set of brass andirons for the fireplace for $7., some Limoge and Royal Doulton coffeeware, four mahogany chairs for my game table upstairs, and Mrs. Gray's coffee carafes in which she served coffee and breakfast to her guests in bed when they visited. You know what I am going to be doing with them...you may not get breakfast in bed, but I sure will make an effort to have coffee at the door as you prepare to come upstairs or downstairs.

Randy stayed home until lunch time, then brought me a heavy jacket, chair, lunch and a coffee. A lot of the neighborhood showed up, but the women could not even fathom using the Porta-toilets, which I thought was hilarious. I am of pioneer stock and it sure comes in handy in times like this. Porta-toilets have come a long way, so girls, give it a try. You really don't know what you are missing...like that deviled egg tray that you've never seen another like anywhere.

Randy called right at the end...he's so intuitive, and made the 4 minute drive to the estate just as I was lifting OUR new game table chairs over the splitrail fence. I love this place and don't want to miss out on one opportunity of this fun adventure we are on. Beware future visitors...I will probably challenge you to a game of Scrabble. In the meantime internalize your new words and the word for the blog for the day (which I sometimes forget to put in) is: "satiated or sate;" [v.] both are generally interchangeable, and mean to satisfy an appetite or desire FULLY. Sentence: Winston Salem satiates my hunger for the arts and creativity. May the Lord satiate each one of you in ways that glorify Him and bless you and others. "Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." Ephesians 3:20.

Oh, by the way. I have to tell you that my foot got a LOT of attention. People stopped me left and right wanting to know what had happened. (I'm telling you...these people are so darn nice.) I got to hear all their foot stories; some good and some just down-right horrible (like the lady who didn't get to shower for 2 years because her feet were in such a mess) and I even have a message for my sweet Dr. Welby look-alike on Monday, my last visit, you'll be happy to know. He will be getting asparagus in the spring as soon as it comes in. The auctioneer even said he liked my shoes, "by the way." I had on my new boot and a hot pink galosh. (It was only one.)I'll tell you, I'm going to have a hard time putting this foot in a shoe, so I may just extend the boot time a little. I'll keep you posted.

The Excitement of the Holidays

We arrived in Winston Salem one cold and frosty morn. I just like the way that sounds, but it's true. We got in about 1:30 AM on October 30. For whatever reason, I had pillows and blankets in our car, possibly from spending the night at our children's condo the night before. We had told Peggy and Jonathan that we would be coming in and they were fine with it. The porch light was on, as was the heat, and there was orange juice and muffins for breakfast the next morning. Just another indication of how thoughtful these Winston Salemites are.

We walked the house in wonder one last time before going to bed, not believing it was finished and we were finally there. We decided to sleep up in the library because the floor looked so inviting. Mollie was thrilled to have us on her level. We awoke to something that we had not experienced too much in all our years of living in Florida...frost! I barely had Mollie, who was in my arms, out the door before everything on her started to tremble. She was just a black mass of shaking fur as the cold took the breath from both of us. I put her down and heard the crunch of ice as she struggled to find a place to potty. It was Halloween.

We spent the day buying essentials and I anxiously anticipated giving out candy on our first Halloween night. We looked out the window at one point and all the little trick-or-treaters were by-passing our house, even though I had every light on inside and out. We were truly lit up like a jack-0-lantern...empty on the inside, but with lots of light flowing out. I finally ran out into the driveway and yelled, "We may not have furniture, but we do have CANDY!" That's all it took; we were on the way to meeting our new neighbors.

The movers arrived bright and early the next day and all went well. I told Randy to make sure all the Christmas trees were convenient, along with all the fall decorations, because I had a plan. It involved buying a new dining room suit. It's like I told Randy when we gave Leah our old one. "I settled before because of price. We're buying for life now and I want mahogany." You do know that NC is the furniture capital of the world, right? We went to Boyles Furniture Store and I found just what I was looking for after having looked for weeks and not seeing just what I wanted. We purchased a table,10 Chippendale chairs, a china cabinet, and a sideboard, which now sits in the entry way. "By the way," I told the saleslady, "I need it by Thanksgiving," which was a week away. She looked at me as though I had just grown 2 more sets of ears. She wasn't going to make any promises, but she'd do the best she could, she told us. You see my sister, Linda, was coming with her family and grandchildren, along with my sister, Pam, and her daughter. I wanted everything to be perfect because Thanksgiving had always been in GA while my mother was alive, and this was the first time we would be getting together since her death. I wanted it to be a true THANKSGIVING.

I decorated the house for fall, and had decided that we would eat on the breakfast table and bring in a patio table if we had to, but, much to my surprise, the table and chairs came moments before everyone arrived. I had baked and planned menus in between unpacking and hanging pictures, so we were pretty much ready to entertain. I have to tell you that having my family walk through the doors reminded me of what my mother must have felt as we all gathered together at her house every Thanksgiving. It brings tears to my eyes as I write this because I had never seen it from her perspective. I was too busy anticipating family dynamics going awry and wanting to get back to my little safe-haven in Florida even before we had arrived. This was one of my first "meditations:" negative thoughts often become self-fulfilling realities; therefore I was going to see to it that everyone was going to be allowed the freedom to do what they wanted while there that would fit their personality or "bent."

I decided to put it in action right after we ate our Thanksgiving dinner. I happily declared that anyone who wanted could help decorate the Christmas tree that Randy had ready and waiting in the garage. Needless to say, the kids couldn't wait. (That didn't last long, but we had Play Mobile toys and other fun "new things" to capture their attention.) Linda had brought her monogramming machine and was busily monogramming bath towels for our bathrooms as a housewarming gift. Pam and Laurie, and Leigh, Linda's daughter, helped with the tree, and Randy stood ready to help when needed with David downstairs, who was watching a game.

I can still recall the magic that enveloped the house as the Christmas music played; the fireplace and Christmas lights added an extra warmth to the great room that was already warmed by our familial connectedness. There was a feeling of contentment. Laurie and Leigh stopped decorating at one point and went into the kitchen to make hot chocolate "concoctions" as they called them. Pam and I talked about our most favorite Christmas memories since we were closest in age, and Linda just kept on sewing. Her two grandchildren, T.J. and Erin wandered in an out and kept us entertained. I want to tell my mother that I get it now, and trust that because she now has a heavenly perspective, that she is praying for me, my sisters, our children, and grandchildren...praying that we will teach and model to them the things that are truly important in life...and that is relationships, and that we will meet others where they are rather than try to put them where we want them to be. And that's harder than it sounds. Happy 61st Birthday, Linda. I love you.

The Finished Product

Here is the house today highlighting Spring, Summer AND fall in Winston Salem.