I'm not done with summer. No way.
This in-between-seasons interlude finds us pleasantly held hostage as we continue to embrace all those good things that define our own personal summertime. I'm not at all interested in reading about {or experiencing} hand-crafted pumpkins, richly laden soups, fluffy flannel sheets, or snugly woolen sweaters just quite yet.
I'm still very much in the moment, thank you very much, and in no hurry to launch forward even though everybody and their mother is heading back to school.
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in praise of moments with family
Speaking of everybody and their mother, at last count I got to mingle in one way or another with about 38 family members this summer. That included everyone from my cousin's daughter-in-law's sister to my daughter's sister-in-law's son, a variety of folks related by love and blood, genes and affection, from a couple months old right up to 88 years.
I feel rich indeed, even if we only got to chat for just a few minutes. One of summertime's best highlights? Watching my mother cradle her 9th great-grandchild for the first time.
Family gatherings matter.
in praise of spiritual traditions
Our 5th grandchild was baptized by her parents in Lake Pleasant, New York at the Christian camp that's been our life blood for four generations. Praise.
To see your children baptize their own children is soul-stirring to say the least. Glorious. Victorious. There are no words. And we continued our tradition of giving a well-used family Bible to each grandchild who makes this beautiful public confession of faith.
More praise.
in praise of a $7 kite
I find it astounding that a cheap kite could provide an afternoon of total absorption and sheer delight. It turned out to be more than just a random plaything. The up-up-and-away sent a child's confidence soaring, her joy compounded as the string unfurled, as long streamers flew unhindered, the colorful diamond winging its way higher and higher on a golden summer afternoon.
Her grandmother took a few minutes to run down the beach with her little sidekick, kite in hand, singing 'Let's Go Fly A Kite' with more energy than she knew she had. Fellow beachgoers had no choice but to observe this rather odd scenario.
A serendipitous afternoon for sure.
in praise of shopping local
Out of nowhere, my washer died a natural death after what may have been 18 years of faithful service. Of course it was filled to the brim with umpteen gallons of water, heavy beach towels and jeans when it suddenly ground to a halt, with 10 days of laundry yet to wash. But that's another story.
The point being that once again, instead of driving a half hour to the big box stores, we decided to shop local. No jammed parking lots, no crowds to jostle, no endless overwhelming selections to wade through. More often than not, small is better. I'm a big shop local fan.
in praise of a way-early fall cleaning
It all started when I asked my husband to do a bit of cleaning. The house was beginning to resemble The Adams Family homestead with far too many cobwebs dangling in space and more than a few surfaces that needed scrubbing. By the time he was done scouring, brooming, and wiping down every floor to ceiling surface in sight, I decided that our fall cleaning was done.
Period.
in praise of worthy online reads
Learning to See Your Single Neighbor
Holly Stallcup
Holly Stallcup
Tyler Huckabee
Michelle DeRusha
Rebecca Muller
Diane Langberg, Ph.D.
Lois Flowers
in praise of women and the church
This, a tender subject, a deep passion for me in recent decades. This little wake-up invitation hit home in more ways than one ...
Dear Church,
Jesus protected women.
Empowered women.
Honored women publicly.
Released the voice of women.
Confided in women.
Was funded by women.
Learned from women.
Respected women.
And spoke of women as examples to follow.
Your turn.
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sharing summer bliss with
