We’re gettin’ so close, I wanna squeal!

(Quick note: This “stack of notes” has grown tremendously over the past several weeks. Needless to say, this picture was taken near the begining of the adventure!)

You probably didn’t know this, but I have a Siamese twin. That’s right, we were separated at birth, and we just found out about it today. We’ve known her family online, but now the truth comes out - hop on over to Elizabeth’s blog to see!

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Our unveiléd scheme is yet continuing. . .

Enshrouded lore for you still brewing…

But this, our clever, prolonged devising. . .

You’ll soon discover quite surprising!

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You hear the word a lot, don’t you? “Random this, random that…” It’s so fun to read “one million random things” about online friends, and randomly search the web. And it so aptly expresses our inner feelings and spurts of humor, that it’s used almost mindlessly.

But then, that shouldn’t be such a surprise, should it? “Random” means mindless, unintentional, unproductive, unchecked; without direction, order, or purpose. Being random is pretty meaningless and empty.

In contrast, we as Christians have hope, purpose and direction. God created each of us with a plan, bought us with a price, and has given us His word to follow. Instead of promoting the “over millions of years through random processes” view of life, we need to be good and faithful servants with the short time we’re given.

Resist the urge to be less than you were created to be. Live with purpose.

This used to be my very own secret recipe. . . but then I started sharing it, so now it’s really no secret. Actually, the original recipe was from a friend, but the first time I made it I messed it up, and voila! They turned out really well and are quite fabulous, if I may say so. (This is the recipe I used for the cookies in this post.)

In a large bowl mix:
- 1 cup Crisco oil
- 3/4 cup brown sugar
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar
- 1 tsp. vanilla
- 1 tsp. water
- 2 eggs

In a smaller bowl mix:
- 2½ cups flour
- 1 tsp. soda
- 1 tsp. salt

Combine both mixtures and add one 12 oz. pkg. of semi-sweet chocolate chips. Use a small scoop to place them on lightly greased sheets, and bake at 375º for 8-10 minutes. Be sure you take them out of the oven just before the edges turn golden. Yields approx. 60 cookies?

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And don’t forget to share them!

Abigail Adams was always supportive of her country’s cause, but after witnessing the Battle of Bunker Hill near her home and hearing about the resulting death of a family friend, her patriotic spirit was even further aroused. Momma found this beautiful story in a biography:

Image from TV Guide

“One day Johnny (John Quincy) came into the house to find his mother and his uncle Elihu. . . in the kitchen, putting all his mother’s treasured pewter spoons into a large kettle. As Johnny watched his mother calmly directing the activity in her quiet voice, he slowly began to understand that they were melting down her precious pewter to make bullets. As his eyes met hers across the room, he felt a surge of love and pride.

“‘Do you wonder,’ said John Quincy Adams sixty-eight years later, “that a boy of seven who witnessed this scene should be a patriot?’”

- From Abigail Adams, by Natalie S. Bober

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We’ve had to stay up late a few nights, and that makes for a flurry and boggy foggy and blurry Bre in the morning. Mornings start to look kind of like this:

Sunshine is always welcome to help us wake up…

…especially if it’s my favorite cereal, Honey Sunshine. But most time I have home-ground wheat bread, toasted, with organic peanut butter and raw honey. Yummm!

Quiet time in God’s Word is always important, and I’ve recently started a prayer journal (why didn’t I start sooner?). I highly recommend the practice of recording your prayers. I’m currently reading through II Corinthians and Desiring God.

And then (after checking my blog and email) I’m in focus and ready to get to work!

“But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of Him everywhere.” - II Cor. 2:14

Update: Another clue at Emily’s blog, and Momma’s blog. ;)

Now, what could I be doing?

Perhaps you’ve heard: my sister and I are working on a large project. It’s very true, and we’re keeping it a special secret until it’s absolutely ready to be unveiled in a few weeks. Until then, Emily and I will be posting some clues. ;)

Mrs. Fuentes wrote an excellent post on home culture, and it made me reflect on what I remember as a little girl, and how the home culture that my mother made affected me. I particularly thought about our backyards, and how much they were a part of our lives and homes.

My memories are practically lined with the foliage from the backyards, fields and woods I played in. Anything living and green in or near our homes has had a small, special nook in my heart, where I’ve kept fond memories of inspiration and delight collected over the years.

A vegetable or flower garden has also been a source of delight: there is so much beauty and wisdom to glean here.  And the eagerness to help Momma poke marigold seeds into starter trays, or pulling baby weeds from the freshly rained-on earth, had almost as much influence on my lifelong affections as the books I savored.

The sunlight on the trellis reminded me of something so simple: The trellis next to the garage, with its honeysuckle trickling upward, is a full leafy vine, and plain most of the year. But just after summer comes, all the little yellow and white ladies’ gloves shower down. At night when I walk the dog in the moonlight, a soft breeze will waft by with a sweet and gentle aroma from the tiny flowers. Our backyard really is that beautiful, and as much a part of our homes as the cozy rooms inside.

“There is nothing in all the influences and surroundings of the home of tender childhood so small that it does not leave its touch of beauty or of marring upon the life. . . . Wherever a child grows up it carries in its character the subtle impressions of the home in which it lives.” - J.R. Miller, in Home Making