An Evening Changes to Night

Tonight was a good night for a walk. You see, I slept almost all afternoon after working last night and then I was able to be off tonight (low census~yay!), so when I woke up, I just felt restless. Yes, a walk would be just the thing. Ever better, a walk with my farmer.

I thought we were going to climb the hill across the

road so as to get a good view of the sunset. As it turns out, Leo wanted to check out potential grazing land. Always the farmer that man is. But, I didn't mind. I'd still get to see the sunset and he'd get to scope out the possibilities. 

It' is funny really. This hill has been across the road from the end of our driveway since we moved here 16+ years ago and until today, I'd never explored it. Of course, there was that time period that they were blasting and strip mining and taking a stroll through the area was rather frowned upon. I guess technically the hill that was there when we moved here is not really the same one that we traipsed all over tonight. But hey, lets not get too technical here. 

Climbing towards the top, our barn roof is seen peeking over the tops of pine trees and willow trees. 

See the white line of wrapped hay bales in the back field? My man has been working hard this week. 

Heather and Ryan, princess and prince of the bale wrapper, helped immensely!

But then, as I turn away from the view of the farm and fields, I am greeted by all of this. I am in awe. So much beauty in one place. So surrounded by creation, by the Creator.

 

 
As the sunset is setting over the patchwork of neighboring Amish farms, the moon in all it's glory is rising over ours. This moon, perfectly round with it's face unchanged over the many years I have known him, winked at us.

 The sky, an ever-changing watercolor kaleidoscope of purples, pinks, whites and blues is preparing for night. The mosquitos are humming, a single high-pitched note in my ear as another little jumpy bug perches on my wrist. The air cools and I slip my jacket back over my bare shoulders.

No longer restless, I am filled with peace as we sit a little while longer in the grass, barely kissed with the moisture of the evening. A campfire glows in our neighbors backyard and the wisps of conversation and laughter tease about our ears. Off in the distance, the rhythmic clip-clop of horses hooves is heard as a buggy nears home.

Home.

What a good place to be tonight.

The sky is dimmed and the world is hushed. I snap one more picture, trying to frame our barn within the view. I stand up and stretch, breathing my lungs full of crisp night air. Leo reaches for my hand and I curl my fingers around his.

Yes. Just that. Yes.

Love,
Dianne and Leo

A Post to Ponder

I've been pondering lately.

Ponder: (according to thefreedictionary.com)

To reflect or consider with thoroughness and care (preferably by a pond according to me).

As I garden, I think about things. About people, about what to make for supper, about my favorite songs, about work, about dreams, about my do-to list, about the stuff of life. I garden, therefore I ponder. 

Sometimes at the end of the day, as dusk descends like a soft blanket, I walk through the yard and the various gardens to review what I've accomplished that day or just to see how my garden grows. I make plans for my next day in the garden. Sometimes Leo walks with me. Just like Adam and Eve we are, except for the lack of clothing part. We've got that covered, literally. 

The other evening, as we meandered through the little woods between the house and fields, we came across an unexpected bloom. 

It looked like a discarded shrub, tossed in the woods without any hope. But yet, there it was, not even planted in any kind of proper fashion, it's roots still molded in the shape of a pot no longer in existence. A laurel, strutting her stuff, alive in spite of whatever anyone else thought. 

I could learn a lot from her. 

On one of these evening walks, we also paused to look at a snowball bush, planted two years ago. Mostly bare sticks, there was this one lonely limb clinging to life. Tenacious, stubborn, determined. 

 I could learn a lot from her. 

Life gets exhausting sometimes. I can let it beat me into the ground until I am nothing but a pile of dry sticks, or I can cling to whatever flicker of joy, whatever spark of hope there is and keep on living the life God gave me.

I can keep my arms crossed, my head down, closed off to everyone and everything around me.
Or, I can spread my arms, fingers outstretched to catch the rain, lifting my face towards the sun, soaking in the warmth as it renews and restores.

As I wander, I ponder and I wonder. The evening stars come out, first just one, then many rivaling the lightning bugs with their twinkles. The moon, nearly full, shines on a landscape now shadowy and dim. Beautiful even though all around it is dark. I could learn a lot from them.

Isaiah 58 has a much to say, much I need to learn, much I need to do. But the promises that are there? So worth it. Take time to read the whole chapter. A challenge. A journey. Something to ponder.


8 Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
    and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness[a] will go before you,
    and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
9 Then you will call, and the Lord will answer;
    you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
“If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
    with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
10 and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
    and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
    and your night will become like the noonday.
11 The Lord will guide you always;
    he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
    and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
    like a spring whose waters never fail.


Love,
Dianne

A Boy, A Dog, A Bath

The Calm Before The Storm.

Boy & Dog.

Awaiting the hose.

Actually, Ryan was awaiting the hose.

 I, Shakespeare was the innocent bystander.

I did not even know what this "hose" was. 

Maybe, thought I, it is something to eat.

I licked my chops, anticipating. 

I opened wide my mouth, 

and to my amazement

a fountain rose forth.

Not forth from me;

nay,but the lad. 

Was this then the "hose"?

Oh what a delight!

I twisted, I leapt 

as I tried to give bite.

I soon was soaked through my long shaggy coat 

when the lad gave a whistle, a shout and a hoot.

I went to him quite curious,

all a-shiver and set to enjoy.

But what was this? 

This flowery scent?

Methinks this is a ploy.

A massage?

A back-scratching?

I most certainly smell trouble.

For I am now all a lather 

covered in suds, froth and bubble. 

This my friends,

is a face not-so-happy.

Please bring back Friend Hose

And do it quite snappy.

Ah, it is back,

this wondrous delight.

The spray of the water

The thrill of the flight.

(Betcha didn't know I could dance, did you?)

 To get off the suds is becoming a chore

I do not sit and endure; what a bore. 

So the lad brought in reinforcement…

I wonder, where's her cape? 

For a superhero it will take,

to escape without a scape.

My lady thinks she will escape without any harm,

but, nay, not so as mud covers her arm.

I jump, I frolic, I roll in the mud.

All in all, just a day on the farm.

But not, tis all over, 

I am toweled from head to rump.

The brushing has commenced 

and I am no longer a grump.

Here am I,

Sir Shakespeare the "Bard"er Collie,

clean as a whistle and without any bristle.

Still a bit damp, I need a good shake

but I shall lie in the sun and therefore shall bake. 

As for the lad?

Well, that's another tale 

for he and my lady did not fare so well. 

With Love,

Shakespeare

P.S. Bathtime with Shakespeare was, shall we just say, interesting. I thought he'd sit still, letting Ryan get it done. It ended up being a bit of a fiasco, with mud flying from his paws as he leapt about and slobber stringing from his mouth. He didn't tell you that part; he's a little shy about the drooling problem. He pretends to not like his bath, but in the end, he revels in his soft, sweetly scented fur. Don't let him tell you otherwise. ~Dianne

The Joy of a Mugshot

"Please sign in here. Take a number."
          Oh-kay. Since I am the only one here, I see why that is necessary.
"Answer these few questions."
          Hmmm, organ donor, registered voter, changing my party, da-dee-da-dum....done.
"Sit there."
          Like I was going to sit anywhere else.
"Sit up straight."
          Yes ma'am.
"Get the hair out of your eyes."
         I obliged.
"Get the hair out of your eyes."
          I thought I had.
"More."
          I swiped again. Great, now my carefully coiffed hairdo will look weird.
"Well, okay. I guess that will have to do.
          You betcha.
"Tilt your head down a little."
          I did.
"Smile big!"
          You got it! But I am not saying "Cheese!".
"Do you want me to take another one?"
          Actually, no, this one turned it rather nice. For a Driver's License Photo.
          At least, I don't look like a criminal on this one. 

Expired June 2, 2013, my license photo needed retaken. I thought I had until June 30th, but when I looked at it the other day, I knew a special trip to Somerset was in order. So, while I do not enjoy this particular photo session, I am thankful it is only once every 4 years. And I really was tired of my old photo. But why do I stress about how I look on it? Really. It's only a Driver's License photo.

That everyone sees.

And usually, I look odd. One year I was biting my lower lip; it did not look sexy or shy, just odd. Other years my head is tilted in a whiplash  kind of way. Or my eyes are half closed. I try to look cool, nonchalant; I end up looking like I am sitting on a thumbtack. Or ill.

Similar to a Driver's License photo is my work ID, of which I have two. One for each job. On the Case Management badge, I am stretched long and thin, which for my body would be kinda nice. For my head, not so much. Don't even try to imagine it; it's not pretty.

My other badge ID is for the hospital. I just had this one retaken about a month ago. The only other one I had from there was in 2004 when I started. I like 2004 better. I looked happy. On the new one, it was taken after working a 12hr night shift and I just look scary. No smile, although I did try to smile with my eyes and give a little grin........fail. Yes, scary. I tend to let that badge flip over to the wrong side, only letting it show briefly when I have to.

It's funny really. I even practice how I might smile, how I want to angle my head, but it never really looks like how I think it will. Methinks I worry to much.

Vanity, vanity, all it vanity.
Pride goes before a fall.
Beauty is as beauty does.

Hmmm, I think there is a lesson in all that for me.


Proverbs 31:30 ESV 
"Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised."


1 Samuel 16:7 ESV
"For the Lord sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart." 

Today, and every day, I need to put as much energy into my inward beauty as what I put into my outward appearance for photo ID day. Putting on gentleness, layering with joy and stepping out in love. Good hair day/bad hair day really doesn't matter (as long as I don't scare small children) if what God has made beautiful within me shines outward. 

Love,
Dianne


P.S. While most Bible verses expound the virtues of inner beauty, Solomon sings a different song. There is a time and place for outward beauty, and with all my heart, this is what I want Leo to sing for me. Who doesn't want hair like a flock of goats?


Song of Solomon 4:1 
"Behold, you are beautiful, my love, behold, you are beautiful! Your eyes are doves behind your veil. Your hair is like a flock of goats leaping down the slopes of Gilead."

Just Call Me "Calf Whisperer"

6:40am

I get up and get ready to take Heather and Ryan to go babysit.

We head out the driveway.

We meet up with one little red calf out of the pasture.

My little red car herds her back through the fence.

The fence gives a little jolt but she doesn't seem to mind much. 

7:20am

I am headed back down the driveway on my way home.

I am met by, not one, but six young calves.

Gallivanting.

Frolicking.

Seeking Merriment.

They were not seeking me, who was feeling anything but merry.

7:21am

I lurch to a stop.

I try to head them off before they charge towards the neighbors.

I was not successful.

7:23am

I ducked between the rows of hay bales in hopes of diverting a disaster.

It worked. Kinda.

The six adventurers took off between the machine shed and corn crib and I followed.

I did not look dignified.

7:28am

One calf headed back towards the escape route.

She went back to her mama like a good calf.

The other five went up against the barn.

They tried to look innocent.

They did not succeed. 

"What?! Me? No! It was the little red one's fault." 

7:35am

I went to the house for my other camera.

"Why not?", I thought. 

I may as well have some fun if I am to be out here running about.

7:40am

Oh good, they are still there.

Wait. 

One-two-three-four....

One is missing. 

The little red one.

Of course. 

7:41am

There she goes!

Run!

Down around the barn and to the silo...

...to the wildflowers.

Like that makes her look any less guilty.

7:50am

The little red one is back with her cohorts in crime.

I have the fence open so they won't get shocked. 

Only one went through.

Good baby.

7:52am

"You want us to go through there?" 

Nah.

7:53am

Let's run back across the yard,

through the red beets barely sprouted,

and around the lilacs,

 between the blueberry bushes.

I really think they find it amusing to see me run. 

7:58am

The three yard crashers went through the fence behind Shakespeare.

(Yes, Shakespeare, this would be a good time to herd the cattle.)

That leaves just two more on the lam. 

8:00am

Peek-a-boo in the mulch.

I am not playing this game. 

 8:05am

Okay, I played for five minutes. 

But then, first one, then the other ducked back under the fence.

The little red one was the last to go. 

Of course. 

They went skipping across the pasture,

back to their mama's and their not-so-bold friends.

8:08am

All's well that ends well.

Until they get out again.

And they will, believe me, they will. 

Love,

Dianne

Auction Day...SOLD!

I went to bed Friday night feeling anticipation and excitement. Saturday was just around the corner and the Amish Benefit Auction was going to be held up the lane and to the left at the neighboring Amish farm. Last year we went and enjoyed food, meeting up with old friends and seeing family. Not to mention the actual auction itself, which included farm machinery, antiques, furniture, collectibles, miscellaneous household items, quilts, baked goods, services, plants, shrubs and trees of a wide variety, outside furniture, horses, chickens, rabbits, goats, pigs, ducks and cows. (Lion and tigers and bears...oh my!) This year would be no different, I was sure.

So we got up to a misty morning and strolled up the lane, cutting across the muddy field through crookedly parked cars, crossing over a little wooden bridge into Auction Extravaganza. The smell of chicken barbecuing for lunch mingled with the tantalizing aroma of sizzling sausages. Rounding one of the many buildings and tents, we entered a large machine shop, now emptied of equipment and replaced with food stations, quilts, and people. Lots of people.

Dressed in varying shades of blue, green and purple, the Amish community was gathered, from near and far. Straw hats and bonnets, muddy shoes and even muddier bare feet were the fashion statement of the day. As for the rest of us, rain boots in a variety of polka-dots, stripes, flowers and solid colors were covering many feet, along with work boots and muck boots. Sweatshirts and jackets were worn in the morning, but as the day progressed, the gray clouds began to dissipate and as the blue began to seam together in bigger and bigger patches, the sun warmed the jackets away.

Awaiting their breakfast and catching up on the latest news...

Weaving through the mix of tables and people, we gathered our breakfast sandwiches, fresh doughnuts, orange juice and coffee. Sitting outside on wooden picnic tables, still damp from the rain, we ate, not caring too much that our backsides were now damp. Then it was time to stand in line to get our number.

The lines moved through fairly quick and soon I was next in line. Then I realized that my driver's license was needed. Oops. I had walked here and my license was at home. I kinda wondered why it was necessary as many of the folks around me in line don't drive and don't have a license to show. I wondered what they showed or was it on an honor system of some sort. Maybe I could just say that I was Leonard's wife. He knows many in the Amish community hereabouts and they know him. But then I just ducked out of line and found Leo, because he had his license with him. He stood in the long line, again.

Leo bought fence posts. Boring. I went to the plants, drawn there like a bee to honey. (You could say I made a beeline straight to the flowers.) I buzzed through the tent, checking out the prospects; the begonias and torenia caught my eye for some annual color. They were being sold on one wagon at one end of the tent. Then the perennials, trees and varying shrubs were on another wagon at the other end. I positioned myself at a strategic location in-between and tried to pay attention to both auctioneers.

I flashed No.123 a few times, bidding on a few tempting items, but letting them go in the end. I hoped they went to a good home. But then, I scored on two holly bushes, saving about $52 off the ticketed price tagged on them, some lupines, coneflowers, speedwell (of the "Red Fox" variety), and artemisia. Then when the multicolored begonias went up for bid, I dashed to the other wagon, leaping over plants and people in time to wave my number eagerly at the auctioneer. I thought I was bidding on a flat and thought $4.50 for 10 plants quite nice. Then I realized after I won the bid, that it was $4.50 per pot. And I got 20 of them. Oops. I cringed a little, but figured it was going for a good cause. Move on Dianne, move on. You shall bid again. After all, if you fall off the horse, you get back on, right?

Heather and Ryan joined me for a while. They got bored. Plants. Boring. Oh, if only they knew. So, Heather played a game on my cell phone and soon, I had no battery and therefore, no more pictures. But maybe, if you close your eyes, you can imagine what it was like...

Yes, that's my mom!

The people, mingling, eating, bidding, smiling...

The children, playing, pretending, walking through mud with bare feet...

The food, hamburgers, hot dogs, BBQ chicken, chips, soda, a salad bar, homemade pies & ice-cream...

The auctions, six at the same time with sing-song voices bidda-bodding all ending with "Sold!"

The items, too many to name but including old desks, antique scales, a vintage suitcase, glassware, tinware, picture frames, bed frames, dressers, wardrobes and trunks, dolls, trucks and snowshoes, books and bowls and bins, oh my.

Four o'clock rolled around and we headed home. The auction was still going on, the crowds were thinning somewhat, but No.123 knew her limits. Better to leave before her hand involuntarily slipped up to bid on that sweet writer's desk that had her name on it. Maybe next year.

Love,
Dianne