Peace, Quiet , Rest & Snow

Peace, Quiet, Rest and Snow

P,Q,R & S

Because this week was anything but that

(except for the snow part),

and I am behind on days and letters, 

I am grouping them together. 

Again. 

So... my week was really more like this: 

Packed, Quickly, Running and yes, Snow 

Today was the first day that I could get up in the morning 

and go absolutely nowhere. And that is only because Ryan's Musical Theater class was cancelled. And because I had a husband and daughters who were willing to do a little driving around for the things that weren't cancelled. I felt like a lady of leisure. 

I don't know why some weeks just get packed so very quickly. 

What starts out as a blank slate soon gets penciled in with 

orthodontist appointments,

hair appointments, 

scheduled work,

work to cover call-offs,

dance practice,

theater class, 

church activities,

etc, etc, etc. 

The running begins and I wonder if the neighbors wonder if they should put up a traffic light at the end of our driveway. 

But then,

SNOW. 

I like snow. 

(When I don't have to go out in it that is.)

Today was my day for a little PEACE.

I could have slept in this morning, but I didn't. 

I enjoyed a slower paced morning,

 drinking coffee and working a crossword puzzle. 

Just me and a little think-time. 

For the first time this week, I got to enjoy some time with Amy, home for college just for a week. I miss my girl. 

Yes, today was good. 

Today was my day for a little QUIET.

I worked in my sewing corner and Amy worked on her art. Sometimes conversation happened, but sometimes it was just... QUIET. 

Yes, today was good. 

Today was my day for a little REST. 

I always have something to do. 

Always. 

Usually, it is work-related. 

Almost always, it gets pushed to the top of the list. 

Today, it didn't because all week long it was at the top. 

I needed some kind of creative outlet. 

To me, that is restful. 

Snow falling.

Gentle and quiet.

Barely a sound, yet leaving its mark.

A reminder to me that sometimes 

it is the quiet things that make the most impact. 

The ground is white, imperfections covered. 

I know the snow causes problems and delays.

The roads are slick and peace seems elusive. 

But in the midst of it all, somehow it is restful.

Somehow. 

At least for today.

For you, 

I encourage you to take a day or part of a day,

and seek peace, quiet and rest. 

It will make the jam packed-full, quick-paced, 

running, running, running weeks 

so much better. 

And soon, 

instead of snow,

it'll be sunshine!

Love,

Dianne

Messes Nurture Opportunity

A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L....

MNO

You know when you sing the "ABC's" how the middle part all runs together? Really, it's more like
"LMNOP..." but since I am behind on Letter M and N and today is O; I better get a move on.

Messes Nurture Opportunity. 

I was reminded of today of memories of when my five children were all little, ranging from newborn to 11 years old. The feeling of exhaustion that never quite left and the days that ran together just like LMNOP. Between the piano lessons, ballet classes, going back to school for my BSN, working full-time at the hospital, helping out on the farm by doing the paperwork, trying to keep the house clean and the family clothed and fed....well, you get the idea.

Life with a Little Gang can get Overwhelmingly overwhelming. 
When sleep becomes broken up, or nonexistent, life becomes Messy. Literally messy because the house that in the age of B.C (before children) that was more-or-less clean, has become a train wreck of farm animals, rubber bands, blocks, markers, crayons, paper scraps, dress-up clothes, doll babies, barbies, marbles, Lego's, Lincoln Logs, Matchbox cars, burp cloths, diapers, wipies, binkies, onesies, swaddlers, breast pump supplies and at least three weeks worth of laundry in various stages of clean.

Sometimes when I was in the midst of all of this, I really did not like my self very much. I felt like a failure as a mom, as a wife, and as a Christian so much of the time. My kids did not sleep through the night on the schedule's outlined by all the best baby doctors. They did not eat organic anything unless dirt counted. They did not always get along and I was sure that no one else could fight like my kids. There were times I felt quite bonded with them but then I realized it was just something sticky that I  hadn't washed off. They had a radar for any clean spot in the house and would seek and destroy in 0.6 seconds. Quiet time? Hahahahahahahahaha. What was that?

I found some journal entries (one of many) from during one of these messy times. (I was pregnant with Heather.)

 "I feel horrible. Like I'm in a whirlwind and can't get out. I feel so overwhelmed with the idea of another little one. Amy is so demanding these days...I just don't know what I'll do with her sometimes. The other times I love her like crazy and I can't imagine ever being angry at her. I feel warped....I feel like such a sinner, so unworthy of God and His blessings. Sometimes I feel like I can't pray. I guess it's then that I really need to pray the most....Lord, as you can see I'm a major project..." 

"...I pushed them away with my words and actions. I was angry at Aaron cause he kept whining about stuff and he keeps climbing in the walls and furniture. I worked housecleaning the living room, including wiping fingerprints and footprints off the walls. Then he climbs on them. AAAAARGHHHH!!!!!!!...." 

As I read through more of this journal and the months after she was born, I almost don't even want to remember. I was at such a low point and so discouraged. But in that swirling whirlwind, there was something else. Boundless, endless grace.

"The kids just came up and "loved" on me and we cuddled on the bed "just cause he loves me" says Aaron. They forgive me and love me even though I'm such a dumbhead. How? A child is more like Jesus than I could hope to be." 

Yes. Boundless, endless grace when I least deserved it.

God stepped in. He Nurtured me. He gave me Opportunity.
("An amount of time or a situation in which something can be done.")

Somehow, God saw fit to make me a mother. He believed in me. To all the young mothers out there who feel like they are the worst mom ever, He believes in you too. Let me just say this.

You. Are. Not. Alone.

I have had so many moments I would like to take back and redo. I have lost it over a three year old dumping not one, but two, new bottles of shampoo down the drain. I have cried right along with my little one as I wondered if she would ever sleep through the night. I have taken the kids to school with one (or more) in tears because of how horribly the morning had gone. I have had many nights of staying up with one, two, or three sick children as we all camped out in the living room with buckets, towels, Tylenol and thermometers.

But God gave me this Opportunity. In those moments, I prayed. And sometimes I just cried because I had no words and He was there.

He still is. And He is still giving this Mama the opportunity to serve her family, to learn about grace in both how to give and to receive. Over the years, I have realized that this is a lesson I need to be reminded of daily. Some days, hourly. Or by the minute, especially on the days where it all runs together like "LMNOP".

Love,
Dianne

Little Late

Yesterday, Day 12, was Valentine's Day and the letter was L. It is rather an obvious thing, but love starts with this lovely letter.

Too obvious.
So, an even better word, since I seem to be quite good at this is: Late. 
You may not believe this, but being late takes talent.

Okay, it's been an hour since I wrote that and I'll admit it. I can not think of a single way that being late takes talent. Not one. There are however a few reasons why being late is a good thing.

1. When a sharp comeback would really knock your opponent off their feet and you just can't think of one until it is too late, you may have just saved a relationship.

2. You walk into church late and the best seats in the back are taken so you have to sit up front.

3. It is that time of the month and you are late. The little pink lines confirm the results and a baby is on the way!

**This is not me**

4. You stay up late and are able to receive a midnight text from your daughter at college who also happens to still be awake.

5. You are late for school and miss the bus so your mom has to drive you to school. She may pretend she is irritated but it is really okay because it is bonding time.

As you can see, being late is not always a bad thing, but in general, it is better to be on time.
So, this Day 12, Letter L and sometimes I think this describes me.

However, it is never too late to start a new habit!

Love,
Dianne

Kyan the Tenderhearted

I know, I know, it is Day 11, Letter K. I asked my three youngest children for "k" words and this is what I got: 

knowing

knowledge 

kindness

knight

kiss

kinetic (this one was from Leo. Thanks. I had to look that one up to really see what it means.)

In the Kingdom of Kievelli, a young, thin lad with a lock of sandy hair over one eye, held very still as he crouched beneath the low hanging branches of the ancient apple tree on the edge of the barley field. The stag was coming out of the forest about twenty paces off to his left and he knew he may not have this good of a chance again. Kyan was nearly twelve years old and had yet to accomplish this feat unlike his older brothers, his father and his grandfather who had all brought down their first stag before their twelfth year. Kyan's birthday was three days hence and he was feeling the pressure to succeed. 

His arrow was nocked, his hands steady even though his heart was not. Beating wildly in his chest, he felt each beat and heard it as a faint whooshing sound in his ears. Surely the young stag must hear it too. Kyan drew in a quiet breath to calm himself, letting it out slowly so the wispy streams of white fog wouldn't be noticed. 

The last few years were spent, in part, training him for this very moment. Kyan had the knowledge and even the skill to do what needed to be done, but he just couldn't ever quite bring himself to the point of execution. His father said it was time that he proved himself. His oldest brother said he was afraid to be a man. Kyan didn't know what he thought. Knowing what he did about himself though, he wondered if his hesitancy didn't have something to do with an occurance that happened when he was about 7 years old.

He and his mother had been walking to the village to get needed supplies and they had come across a wounded rabbit in the road. Kyan had not liked to see it in pain; it made him sad. He watched as his mother very gently picked it up and using a piece of cloth torn from her underskirt, she cleaned the wound and then bound it. He was touched by her kindness and something in him changed that day.
Life was more than the hunt, but what?

At age 7, a boy could enter into service as a page to a knight but Kyan's parents couldn't afford to do this. He remained at home and his father who had aspired to be a knight, never making it past squire after being wounded in battle, taught him what he had learned with the hope that maybe Kyan could move up the ranks in a few years if he proved himself worthy. The problem was this: He didn't know if being a knight was what he aspired to be. He found himself to be at a crossroads and right now, the stag was in his cross-hairs.

Converting to kinetic energy, the arrow shot from the string, sinking deep into the stag's shoulder. For a moment, it stood looking stunned before falling to the ground slowly. Kyan closed his eyes for a moment, giving thanks to God for His provision, for while he hated the killing, he knew his mother would be grateful as meat was not common in their household. Rising from his crouched position, Kyan prepared to dress out the stag.

The sky was just showing the first of the evening stars when Kyan came into the yard, the stag on a pallet he had made from branches to making dragging easier. His mother came out of the house, wiping her hands on the front of her skirts before coming to meet him. She alone knew how difficult this had been for her tenderhearted boy and she gave him a kiss on his forehead, pushing that same errant lock of hair out of the way. Knight or not, he was her boy who was nearly a man. What his future held was not certain, but she knew his heart and that he had given it to God and in that there was certainty.

(The End...at least for now.)

Love,
Dianne

Je t'aime

The 10th letter of the alphabet is J.
I tried to think of  "J" words and what I could write about.
There's juggling, June-bugs (ewww), juniper and Jupiter.
And then there is jack-in-the-box, Jericho, jump and joy.

I could juggle June-bugs.
I could jump for joy.
But I think, since Valentine's Day is just around the corner
I'll just say Je t'aime.


Earlier today I wrote about the letter "I" and interestingly enough, the French word for "I" is "Je".
This is one of the few things I remember from two years of high school French class. That and how to ask for the bathroom. This, along with je t'aime are very important phrases to know.

You know, because je t'aime means "I love you".
And here is where it might get a little mushy.
Or a lot mushy.

I love how you care for the animals and they all love you. 

I love how you drove almost an hour to meet me after I worked night-shift so we could have coffee together and I could have someone to honk at me if I fell asleep driving. 

I love how you spent time in a bookstore. With me. Just because. 

I love how you keep the house warm for me even though you prefer it cooler.

(Did you know that dry Christmas trees burn very, very hot?)

 I love how you are so serious when you study the Bible. 

And I love that there is this silly side of you that fits just right with the silly side of me. 

I love that you let me hang out on the tractor with you. 

And that you rescued me this day from slipping into a depression and you loved me and kept a hold of me when I was nearly falling into that dark pit. 

How could I not love that you do the dishes?

 I love that you can fix just about anything 

and you aren't ever afraid to get your hands dirty, 

even if you do get faint at the sight of blood or when I talk about gross nursing stuff. 

I love you because you love God and try to follow His commandments

as you serve your family, the church and the community. 

Je t'aime Leo. 

I know. It's not Valentine's Day yet but hey, love happens on February 12 too. 

Love, 

Dianne

If Only "I"

Day 9, Letter I.

If. 
If only.
If only I...

If only I had written last night, then I wouldn't be a day behind AGAIN!
I have decided that I say "I" way too much.  You don't think about it until you go to write something, anything and you start to wonder just how self-centered you are. Do you notice how I keep saying "you" instead of  "I"?  Sneaky huh?

Actually, I have noticed it frequently when I write. So many statements begin with  "I". It is a little unavoidable I guess when a blog is written about one's life experiences, but it does make me think. 

In a world of "selfies" and Facebook that want to know what I am thinking, it becomes difficult to not focus on oneself. When we are told to "Look out for Number 1", I am pretty sure it doesn't mean God, your husband, your wife or your children.

It should.

I find it difficult some days to take the focus off of "me" but on the days that I do, I am happier and have a joy that is not quite explainable. I find that when I do this, somehow it ends up coming back around and the parts of me that need some TLC are taken care of.

Just. Like. That.

Funny thing though. When I went on a search for quotes about "putting others first", it gave me many thoughts on why taking care of oneself first is important. Because "if you put others first, it is only reminding them that you are second." No kidding; that's what it kept giving me. Basically, putting others first really means (in worldly terms), to put your own self first because then you'll never be fit to care for anyone else anyhow.

I think I will stick with God's word on this one. One version said "outdo one another in showing honor". I like that.


https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CAYQjB0&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.priorityministries.com%2Fchristian-womens-blog%2Fscripture-art-romans-1210%2F&ei=6xXdVNanFcyqgwTA8ICgDw&bvm=bv.85970519,d.eXY&psig=AFQjCNGAFLAMsLAL_fS9sOAM8d3lW2KNzQ&ust=1423861592297615

Love, 
Dianne

Hey, Hey, Hay!

Hey hey! 

Third post of the day!

The day is Day 8, The letter is H.

Did you ever think I'd get to this stage?

(Me neither.)

But Here's to horses, hardware, hiking and holly,

house and home, harmonica and harp,

Hay-making and Harvest.

And now, because Spring is a few weeks away,

and Summer is a few months away,

I thought I'd share some more favorites from the past year. 

(You know, to make us want winter to be over even more....)

Also, I noticed that my legs have utterly and completely lost any tan that they may have acquired over the summer and quite frankly, the best way to get some sunshine on the legs is to make some 

Hay. 

Can't you almost smell the grass drying in the sun? 

We have a few members of our farm family that enjoy this hay making business:

The Horses...

 ...the Herd...

and the Hen...

This is Ryan and I one evening as we wrapped the cut grass. 

Notice the night sky and the use of the flash.

This is not recommended if one wants to get a little tan on one's very white legs. 

It is however an interesting way to spend time with your son. 

Hey,Hey, Hay!

Love, Dianne

On the Go

Second post of the day, which would be Day 7, Letter G.

Remember the kid's book "Go Dog Go"? Well, that is how life sometimes presents itself, as a series of stop and go, mostly go. Not that being busy is a bad thing, but neither sometimes is saying "No." When I feel like I am just on the edge of getting sick, or I have a headache that just won't take a break, when I cry over a television commercial or get angry over the most ridiculous things like the fact that my 11 year old is acting like an 11 year old and this was while he was actually folding his laundry and my grumbling reaction really made no sense, then it is time to put the brakes on and slow down.

Or better yet, how about if I come to a complete stop?

Not for a month, a week or even a few days, but how about even for just one day. Turn off the phones. Get disconnected from all the demands. Realize that sometimes the busyness, the going, going, going is because of choices I make and not because someone out there is making me.

And, I can make a choice to slow down. For a day. For even half a day. Catch up on some reading that is simply just for enjoyment and do it during the day when I am not in bed falling asleep. I used to be able to finish books and now I count it a victory to get to the end of a chapter. Or a page.

One reason I am challenging myself to write my way through the alphabet is because I enjoy writing and I seldom make it a priority. Usually, it comes after the work is done, it is evening and I go to bed. But then that crazy need for sleep arises and zzzzzzzzz..........

Go Dianne Go. I like being busy and boredom seldom happens and for that I am thankful. But, a little break with a cup of coffee, a softly lit room, a laptop and an inspiration to write, or read, or just close my eyes to think or pray, that my friend, is Glorious Gift. 

And just in case you need a few other G words to make you feel inspired, here are a few of my favorites from this past year:

 GOATS

GREEN

 GOLDENROD

Love, 

Dianne

Favoring a few "F" words.

Here I am, a few letters and days behind. Sunday was supposed to be Day 6, Letter F. Now it's Tuesday so my goal today is F, G, H in three separate posts but in one day. Here's Letter F. 

Finally, the day was here and Heather's Christmas gift was going to be redeemed. 

She and I debated our outfits, changing numerous times in the course of an hour. 

Somehow we managed to get out the door only 15 minutes later than we intended. 

Our destination?

The Benedum Center for the Performing Arts. 

Our performance?

The Ballet of Beauty & The Beast presented by the Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre. 

(Too bad the letter of the day isn't B.)

A few words come to mind. 

Fancy and Fun,

Fabulous and Fantastic. 

 Who doesn't love a good chandelier? 

The Benedum is just Fabulous.

Walking in always takes me back in time just a little. 

I have decided when I retire in 20+ years that I want to be one of the usherettes. 

I would look good with silvery white, blue-tinted hair don't you think? 

And I would get to wear one of the usherette outfits, complete with a little bow tie. 

I already have the volunteering webpage bookmarked. 

Just in case. 

And speaking of Fabulous...

I may have found a potential Favorite restaurant. 

Heather and I have always had a goal of getting to Pittsburgh for an event, 

going to a nice Cultural District restaurant and then attending our show. 

This has never happened. 

We are never early enough. 

But this time, we had an afternoon show and we ate after the show. 

We couldn't decide though for a while and while we checked the phone for locations,

we kept walking and pausing as though we were looking at upcoming show posters. 

The look we were going for was inconspicuous, like we belong in the city. 

I am not sure that we succeeded. 

 

We did however succeed in finding Alihan's Mediterranean Cuisine.

After an appetizer of Turkish bread that we dipped in olive oil with pesto and crushed walnuts, 

Heather got an Italian inspired Eggplant Parmesan, stuffed with spinach, ricotta, tomato marmalade, topped with fresh mozzarella with a fresh salad on the side. 

I got a Chicken Saute that was chock full of sauteed onions, green peppers,

 garlic and mushrooms in a cream sauce with almond rice on the side. 

Mmmmmmm. 

Dessert?

Of course. 

We shared some Tiramisu.

It was lovely. 

Fun, Fancy, Fabulous, Fantastic. 

Time spent with my girl. 

The Ballet.

The food.

The atmosphere.

But most of all, time spent with my girl. 

Did I already mention that?

Love, 

Dianne

Detours vs Dead-Ends

Another day has slipped away and I am still a day behind on my alphabet challenge. Last evening, Heather was using the laptop and I hated to nab it away from her. My Mac laptop is not fixable unless I'd like to spend over $700 and even then it seems iffy. The data that I would love to retrieve is still trying to be retrieved. I am learning patience and how to share as we are down to one laptop for myself, a teenager and a preteen.

So, Day 4: Letter D and Day 5: Letter E are going to be as one. I must catch up. Here are the suggestions from my youngest:

Downtown to Eden....I don't know what I can do with that.
Dirty Elephant. Interesting.
Entertaining Dianne. Nope. Not happening.
Dianne the Entertainer (complete with circus music on the recorder). Better, but no, just no.

I am trying to focus here and Adrienne and Ryan are warming up their singing voices. Singing "Bubble gum bubble gum bubble gum" over and over is not conducive for creative writing. If anything, it is a Dead-End. 


That's it!

How many times in our lives do we feel like we have come to a Dead-End?

"a situation, a plan or way of doing something that leads to nothing further". 

I have mornings that I awaken, slap at the snooze button, all the while thinking of all the negative aspects that the day could bring. You want to talk about bringing my day to a screeching Dead-End before it's even started.

Like right now, someone asked me about my tax returns and information and I slammed headfirst into a Dead-End. This was all on my Mac, my lifeless Mac that has hit its own Dead-End. I want to sink into a puddle of self-pity. Poor me. Waaaaahhhhh.

But that doesn't help anything does it? At least it never does for me. Rather, it makes me anything but Dianne the Entertainer. My attitude is worse than a Dirty Elephant and I may be headed downtown but it is not to Eden.

"Failure is a detour, not a dead-end street." ~Zig Ziglar

This needs to be my focus on those dead-end days. Detour, not dead-end.



Love,
Dianne

The Cove

To say that last night was Chilly would be an understatement. I worked on Day 3, Letter C of my challenge and when I got home, I piled the fuzzy blankets on my side of the bed and snuggled in. The laptop was next to me and I had good intentions of writing before midnight but alas, the warmth soon enveloped me and I was sound asleep. Today is a new day and I am going to still do Letter C because without it, we wouldn't have cats, carpet, chrysanthemums, caffiene or cheery. And let's not forget cotton, cows, cabbage and caboose. If not for the this third letter of the alphabet, I would not have had the privilege of growing up in The Cove.

http://19thcenturybaltimore.files.wordpress.com/2011/07/beachy_cove_garrett_co.jpg

In February 1976 when I was five years old and in Kindergarten, my parents, two sisters and I moved to the community known as "The Cove". Exactly two miles in from Rt. 219 and smack dab on top of a big hill that we thought was very much like a mountain without the snow, my parents cleared trees, dug a foundation and built a house. They had bought this piece of woodland from Mr. Glass, a little more than an acre and before long it was not just a structure with four sides and a roof, but a home, complete with the laughter of three little girls who liked to pretend they were Mary, Laura, and Carrie Ingalls. In some ways, it felt a little like being pioneers as there were no other houses in sight. At the time, there wasn't even mail service to the top of the hill and my parents had to apply for it. In the years following, more folks decided to build and our little corner of the Cove became more settled with Margroffs and Mausts, Harmans, Sines, Shefts and Stemples.

Before our yard was in existence, there was a grand mountain of a rock and dirt pile complete with an equally grand black snake. Then, those pioneering Ingalls girls were replaced with Holly, Molly and Polly who lived in "The Land of The Lost" and spent hours evading dinosaurs while gathering ink berries or Pokeweed to either make dye or "soup" with.

Many days were spent in the woods surrounding our house and we followed paths that only we knew existed, picking milky white waxy Indian Pipes and May Apples in Spring, stomping on Puffballs, gathering evergreen wood ferns and wild orange Turk's-Cap lilies in the summer and picking tart blackberries in July and August. Dangling grape vines let us be Tarzan and Jane and flat rocks allowed us to survive in the wilderness every time our adventures left us stranded as they became ovens to cook the acorn and leaf stews we concocted.

The woods were shady and cool and at times a little mysterious. In comparison, the wide open sloping field adjoining our property was adrift with sunshine and daisies, violets, timothy and orchard grass, red clover, Queen Anne's lace and little white asters. Maybe this blend wasn't the best for making hay but it was certainly glorious for catching little yellow butterflies (that I think were Alfalfa Butterflies?) and picking wild strawberries when you were lucky to find a patch with ripe berries. They were small but oh, they were sweet!

The Cove, cradled in a valley was, and is, welcoming and warm. When I go visit my parents now, the winding road feels the same and even though it hasn't been "home" for 26 years, it still has a sense of homecoming. I love coming down the first hill past the Dillon place and I always slow down just a little. The white house and barn with its large yard that was once beautiful and romantic in its cottage feel was always my dream place to live. The Dillon sisters were just a bit of a mystery to me and I made up quite a few stories in my head about them.

Then as I go around the sharp turn at the Thomas's I am careful to really slow down. I wrecked there once trying to upright a container of milk that was spilling all over the back seat. What I really remember is how Mrs. Margroff was kind about the fence-posts I'd knocked over and Mr. Margroff even offered to fix the damage without telling my dad.

I go past the churches and I am always thankful that our community was one of faith as well as friendly families. I go down another hill that hits bottom and immediately starts climbing up the steep slope to my house. I am tempted to raise both hands like we used to do, pretending this was a roller coaster ride but I don't because I am driving and another Margroff brother lives here in the house that used to be a general store and I don't need to knock out any more fence-posts. My dad remembers as a boy, when this house was still a store, stopping for pop and ice-cream.

Coming up the hill, I remember how I would close my eyes and try to fall asleep on our way home from Sunday evening church services as my dad would drive up this same hill. The hope was that he would carry me in the house. It never worked.
Talking to my mom and dad, I found out that even though my dad knew people from the Cove, my mom didn't know too many beyond the other Benders that lived in the area. Soon after we moved there, a wonderful neighbor, Myrtle (the same Myrtle who called for the weekly news!) invited my mom to join the Cove Homemakers and as connections were made, friendships were formed  and community was built.

Community, Caring, Charming...The Cove.

Love,
Dianne

All About the Buzz

B.
I like Aunt Bea from Andy Griffith.
I like Bumblebees in my garden. Not on me, but buzzing about minding their own business.
"To Be or not to be, that is the question."

B.
This may seem funny but the word of the day for this Beautiful letter B is: Buzz.
Yes, it is the sound a bee makes and it is a kind of haircut in the summer. It can even refer to a certain feeling you get after consuming certain drinks. For me on this day it is making me think of the news about town.

You know, the Buzz, the gossip, the report.

What made me think of this was a conversation I had this morning with my grandma over breakfast. We were remembering how, back in the 70's and 80's (and probably before that, but that was before my time...) each household in the Cove Road and immediate surrounding area would get a phone call from Myrtle.

"Hello, this is Myrtle and I'm calling for the news."

Then, depending on whether or not someone in the family had just had a baby, got married, had company for Sunday dinner, visited relatives from out of down or had relatives visiting them, attended a funeral, birthday party or bridal shower, or even had any recent significant sickness or hospitalizations, the person answering the phone would relay that information to Myrtle. She then in turn would relay that information to The Republican newspaper and the tidbits of community life would appear in a little section entitled "The Cove News." At least that's what we called it.

As a kid, I really thought she was like Ike Godsey's wife Corabeth Walton Godsey on The Waltons.

 In my mind, she was just like her and she had a daughter who I also imagined was just like their TV daughter Amy. This woman was in charge of the Community Buzz. She heard it all first, just like Myrtle.

Now, gossip is one thing, but sharing our lives with each other is another. The difference is when I share the details vs. someone else sharing the details. With all the devastation in the world, whether through natural or man-made disasters, it is somehow refreshing to read about the seemingly small details of life.

Why should I care if Betty from beyond the bluff befriended Barbara at a bridal bash?
Or that Bill the beef farmer bought big bales of barley from Bert?
Or that brand-new babies were born before breakfast?

It is not that I have to care. It is more that I want to care. The Buzz about town is about everyday life. To some it may be Boring, but to me it's the Best. Even Aunt Bea would agree. To be or not to be, that is life.


Love,
Dianne

The Ultimate A-List

February already. How does that happen? One day it is all about the New Year and suddenly the groundhog is giving a weather forecast. And it is not just February 1st, but the 3rd and being that this is a short month, that means it will be over even faster than January was. But, you know, I like February. I do. And since there is only 26 days left, counting today and there is 26 letters in the alphabet, I think I am up for a challenge.

Can I come up with something for each letter for each of the remaining February days? I don't know, but I feel like trying. Just a warning though. On the days I work 16 hours, that post might literally be a word. Or a sentence. Maybe a quote, short and sweet.

"A"

When I was pregnant with Adrienne, we had all manner of names picked out .Vivian, Natalie, Charlene. Oh my. She's says, "I am glad you went with Adrienne." I am too. I think it fits her just fine even if its Latin meaning is "rich, wealthy, dark one."

 Then when we were expecting again, we ended up with Aaron. He could have been Dale or Grant, but Aaron it was. His name means "high mountain"; maybe we were trying to infuse some height into the Maust name.

 Fast forward a few years and along comes Amy (meaning "beloved"). We really didn't have any other names picked out. I remember sitting in the town of Accident as we were deciding if we should go visit someone who happened to be Amy Yoder and we just knew it was the name we wanted. This Amy was my great aunt (she was married to my Grandma Bender's brother) and she also just happened to be my husband's aunt also because she had been adopted into his grandparent's family when she was young. When Amy's husband died unexpectedly she was left with raising seven children on her own. She was a woman I wish I would have known better. There was just something stong about her, something of a pioneering spirit. As I am sure that the elder Amy was beloved, so is our Amy.

Then came baby #4. Everybody thought that surely we would have another "A" name. I considered Austin for a boy but then someone pointed out "Austin Maust" kind of rhymes. That one got tossed out. I liked the name Adam, but Leo thought that it would be too much like another family who had an Amy, Erin (even though spelled differently) and Adam. Scratch that. Then the day arrived and Heather was Heather. She does tend to blossom when it seems most barren and if you haven't already, look up her name and you'll see that there really is no other name for her.

No, she was not adopted even though her older siblings sometimes teased her that she was. I mean, she didn't have an "A-name".










We figured that when we were expecting another baby after Heather that since we broke the pattern with her that we may as well just continue and Ryan didn't even have any other option that started with the letter A. My "little king" had a name quite befitting the baby of the family.

We could have been the A-Team or had our names on the A-List but instead we are on God's list, the ultimate A-list.

Isaiah 43:1-3New Living Translation (NLT)

The Savior of Israel
43 But now, O Jacob, listen to the Lord who created you.
    O Israel, the one who formed you says,
“Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you.
    I have called you by name; you are mine.
2 When you go through deep waters,
    I will be with you.
When you go through rivers of difficulty,
    you will not drown.
When you walk through the fire of oppression,
    you will not be burned up;
    the flames will not consume you.
3 For I am the Lord, your God,
    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

I'd say Amen to that!

Love,
Dianne