And I am happy.  Just because the Lord is so good!

I haven’t been blogging as regularly as I’d like, but there have been so many other things to keep me busy.  And I’m sure you understand!

Last week I took my first long walk in the back yard since most of the snow melted. The air was tinged with the mild, damp sweetness of Spring, and a day-long south wind brushed it over the homestead.

“Windflowers” by John William Waterhouse

Art, studying, reading, cleaning, exercising, etc. are constants on my to-do list.  And the calendar seems to be filling quickly with spring and summer plans.

For an up-coming event I’m sewing a dress out of a light blue paisley fabric.  Mom has given me some pointers and cut out a few pieces for me while I was slumped over with exhaustion, but I think I can say (so far) that this is the first dress I’ve made pretty much on my own.  I’ve never made cuffs or a collar, or have even altered a pattern before, so this is a bit of leap for me!  But it seems to be going well and I’m very happy with how it is turning out.

I can hardly wait until the sun decides to stay and warm up the earth some more.  Last year we built raised beds for our garden.  My, how easy to weed! and everything looked so charming and organized.  They did well with our vegetables last year, so we’re planning on building a few more and transplanting the rest of the herbs and flowers into them.

Asplundh has cut down three trees in out front yard because, of course, they were too close to the power lines.  But we plan on replacing them with shorter, flowering trees.  It will look even more beautiful in the coming springs when everything is in full bloom!

Can you tell I’m looking forward to digging in the dirt again?

.:. .:. .:.

Thank you Heavenly Father for . . .

20. safe 7 hour bus ride

21. nearly butterfly-less performance

22. growing opportunities to minister through music

23. humbling realization that I must always lean on Jesus

24. God’s design for order found in beautiful music

25. fading fall colors

26. violet, frosty mornings

27. fog that clings to unharvested cornfields

28. Japanese maple by the Library

29. red berries

30. pressed leaves

31. time to read more

32. a warm home to clean

33. the God-given need to create, infuse life, and communicate

34. the black and white energy called Bentley that collapses into cuddly naps

35. the Land of the Free and Home of the Brave that we still fight for today

36. hearts of our forefathers that were wholly dedicated to the Lord

37. dangerous sea voyage and sacrifice of the Pilgrims

38. Providence of God in the forming of Plymouth plantation

39. . . . and Jamestown

40. . . . and our country

.:. .:. .:.

It was Tuesday night, September 8, approximately 9:03 pm.

Emily, Maggie and I, along with our parents were walking down the campsite road to a large open space away from the trees.  We had been told by a friendly camping neighbor that we would be able to see the ISS and the Discovery in the night sky at 9:14 pm. But at 9:07, I saw the first one.  It was the tiniest pinprick of a shimmer, sliding in and out of our sight.  The second soon followed, and then they were lost.

On our way back the campsite, we stopped in the ladies’ room.  But just as we were exiting, Aunt Lou came running to tell us that now we could really see them.  We all rushed back out into the darkness, hoping for one last peek.

Apparently, what I naïvely pointed out to my family were either some minor satellites or jets.  But now at 9:14, there they really were.  Two stately, shining orbs were about a hand’s span apart.  Both were like Venus, only larger and more brilliant, and swiftly slipped across the sea of stars.  It nearly took my breathe away to experience such a celestial event.

Tonight, Dad, Mom and I waited in our backyard around 9:40 to see if we could spy it once more.  Again, they were there, but fainter and farther apart.

Jesus, thank You for creating such a fascinating universe for us so that we can admire your splendor and creativity.  And thank You for granting mankind the ability to explore the nearest heavens.

(Find out if you’ll be able to see them within the next few days by clicking here.)

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

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

{A Spring requiem ditty by yours truly}

Rain, rain, go away.
Come again another day.
The ground has drowned and soaked all through,
Just let the sun come out and play!

Rain, rain, disappear.
Come again another year.
Don’t you think your work is done?
Everything is bleak and drear!

Child, child, quiet please,
The grass is growing, and the weeds.
And if you’re patient, flowers, too,
And then the trees’ll be full of leaves!

Little signs of spring are all around - the bright green moss, the dried remnants of last year’s flowers making way for new ones…

What a simple yet satisfying felicity to bring a bit of wild nature to the table. After months of winter, a sweet zephyr blew in on a drizzly evening, offering a lovely stroll by our Granny’s lake. I collected some fresh moss, rocks, and tiny budding plants into a bowl.

Momma keeps catching me spritzing my moss to keep it alive. I can hardly help it - it’s so beautiful!

Thank you, all my faithful readers and friends, for visiting my blog and leaving such happy and encouraging comments! You all have made my blogging life so fun, and even though I can’t reply to every one, I want to thank you for being my friends. May God bless you all!

~Breezy

I saw three robins at the library this Tuesday, and soon the daffodils and grape hyacinths will be showing their delicate shoots.  All the snow and ice will melt, and the oak tree will be covered in little bright green buds! The wind will turn sweet and warm, and I’ll walk bare-foot in the grass again.