Two Weeks Into September

I've often said I don't understand how anyone can survive building a new house.  I've recently painted the kitchen cupboards, chairs, and walls, and the decisions about paint color and which pulls to choose for the drawers were hard for me!  This is not to speak of the agony I went through choosing new laminate for the countertops and island.  "It's just stuff" I kept telling myself.  But I waffled more during this remodel than at any other point in our 45 years of marriage because there is the overwhelming feeling that I won't be doing it again.  We remodel on the average of every 15 years or so, and next time around I'll be 80.  I don't see going through all this at that point in time, but who knows!

At my caregiving blog I've written about some of the struggles we are facing now, but this is my "Count Your Blessings" blog!  The Lord is gracious to provide us respite in these little things that bring joy.

Here are before and after photos of the countertops:

I like my new light fixture.  I couldn't find anything I liked and finally realized I was looking for a cross between farmhouse style and Rivendell -- which definitely does not exist in any lighting catalog.  I think I probably ended up with shabby chic--but I love it.  

And here are some fall decorations that I've put out piecemeal this week.  I am wishing for fall temperatures to go with the decor!

Painting by my mom, Anna Ruth.  She loved this little owl.  Don't you love the little vintage pumpkins?  They are handmade by my cousin's daughter.  Find her Etsy store at MyVintageNestbyApril https://www.etsy.com/shop/MyVintageNestByApril

I don't think I've ever used this coffeepot that I received as a wedding gift for its intended purpose.   It matches the pottery pattern I chose back then and still love.  

And, of course I have to include photos of the grandkids.

These two were making play pizzas and graciously offered me a bowl of black olives.  

We didn't realize how much our oldest grandson resembles his grandfather until I found this photo of Farmer John at the same age Daniel is now.  The meme that Daniel found online suits him to a tee--it says, "Since I didn't get my Hogwarts letter,  I'm going to the Shire, and making a shield, unless I feel The Force, or find a wardrobe.

And here's the girl with the golden curls...

August, Late in the Afternoon...

I went for a walk about 5 or so this evening, and shadows were lengthening.  I tried in vain to capture the beauty with photos, but the digitized version provided just a dim copy of what my eyes could see.  

Sunlight glittered from cottonwood leaves as though they were mirrored liquid.  Dragonflies swooped and soared across the road in front of me, catching motes of light and reflecting sunbeam-filtered prisms from their wings.  The light itself seemed living and moving, ahead of me, around me.  The air was heavy with a scent of lush green from an August during which heavy rain and leaf-crushing hail have fallen.  Yes, I found joy in this walk.  

Sand Hill Plum Jelly

My grandmother canned food from necessity rather than for pleasure, and to my knowledge she never in her lifetime took a photo of anything she canned.  She just fed it to us, with love, and we were humbled by the knowledge of the sheer hard work behind every stockpot full of bacon seasoned green beans, bowl of stewed apples, or cut glass dish of pickled beets.  

 I have a confession.

I don't generally believe that canning one's own produce is worth the trouble.  As a Kansas farm wife of 45 years, that's quite a dark reveal.

Home canning doesn't work well with my personality; I am germ-phobic on one hand but carefree on the other, as I seldom measure ingredients when I cook.  I am intimidated by the dire warnings of disastrous outcomes if I should fail to follow every direction perfectly.

Also, I'm sorry, but home canning makes a horrific mess.  Again, I have a personality conflict with the whole procedure.  I like fresh produce as much as the next person, but when it comes to "laying it by," a little voice in my head whispers that I can buy a can of green beans in the store for 89 cents, so why would I spend an entire day picking, stemming, boiling, and worrying about whether I have done things safely...or not?

I like to freeze things.  I even freeze tomatoes, if you can believe that.  Heath officials and extension agents do not generally issue frightening warnings about home frozen food.  But that's another blog post.

An exception to all the angst I've just described is jelly, specifically Sand Hill (or wild) plum jelly.  For the reward of a shelf full of jewel-toned, tart and sweet deliciousness made from fruit that grows wild across the country road from my house, I will wash, boil, strain, juice, read, reread, and read again the tiny print of the directions on the Sure Jell box.  I will gladly dirty most of the pots and pans I own, and deal with sugar spills and sticky countertops.  It's worth it, even though I treat the whole process more as an art project than as a way of laying by food for the winter.  And although I do my very best to process the jelly exactly according to direction, I am comforted that it would be a foolish bacterium that would even attempt to survive in something that is at once highly acidic and yet sweet as jelly made with the very sour juice of a wild plum.

At Thanksgiving this year I will fill crystal jelly dishes with this jelly and in response to my mother-in-law's query will reply modestly and matter of factly, "Oh yes, of course this is homemade. I put it up last summer.  Filled the pantry. The Sand Hill plums were beautiful this year."

Note:  These plums may be wild plums rather than Sand Hill plums--a Google search tells me that in our area of Kansas wild plum dominates, while the Sand Hill plum predominates in Western Kansas.  But we have always called them Sand Hill plums! 

Comforts

 I sat under the big elm tree in our yard for awhile late this afternoon, and although the temperature was over 90 degrees, I felt pretty comfortable.  Locusts sang, dragonflies swooped, and the late afternoon sunlight transformed ordinary scenes  into backlit beauty.  

I needed a day of rest today and was granted grace to accept the need and partake of the peace of a day alone, without noise of TV or the distraction of projects.  It was a good decision, because this afternoon I'm feeling rejuvenated and ready for the rest of the week.  Grateful. 

Perspective

I've had a summer cold for nine...count them, NINE days.  I ran a fever.  I was miserable.  I huddled in bed too sick to read or watch TV and just prayed to feel better soon...and I do.  I really do.  It is a blessing to have a sickness that is of short duration.  Due to my journey with my mother through her Alzheimer's,  I know enough about chronic diseases to recognize that I am blessed.

I walked around the yard this morning and snapped the images below with my old iPhone 5.  Nothing like a brief illness to help one see the world with fresh eyes.

Perspective is important.  In the middle of even a brief illness, it seems as though we'll never feel better again.  We have to remind ourselves "This too shall pass."  My mom used to say that all the time.

It's good to feel better.

This photo is taken in a direct line with those below--I just walked straight ahead to get the closeups (no, I didn't trip over those pots of flowers).  

All details of the same scene--left,: light filtering through the red leaf plum formed rainbow rays; middle: plum leaf detail; right:  closeup of a spider web; this is one of those photos that can be viewed two ways; the strands can look either concave or convex.