It's In The Promise Of The Wishberry

 A few weeks ago on a damp and cold and dreary 

 Spring day

she asked,

"When do you ever think

we will see those yellow flowers again?"

 

I said,

 "What yellow flowers?"

 But I was thinking

tulips...

or

daffodils...

 

Then with a contemplative

tone in her voice

she said,

"Well...,

 the only way I know

to describe them

is

 they are

young wishberries!"

 

Then I knew!

Ah yes.

Young wishberries.

When she was just a tiny

wisp

of

a

child,

quiet

and

intuitive,

hardly talking,

she christened a dandelion puff

calling it

"a wishberry".

I've loved dandelion puffs,

since I was a child.

Still,

even now,

I love blowing them

and

watching the seeds

float,

float away,

on the wings of the fragile puff

of my breath

or the wind.

Once when I was in elementary school

I found a huge dandelion puff

where two stems had fused

and grown together

making a

heart shaped puff

much larger than I had ever seen.

And so began my fascination with them.

Upon her pronouncement of calling them

wishberries,

so very aptly named,

in my humble opinion,

they became just that much more

dear to me.

And

we've enjoyed

wishberries

together

ever since.

 

We never fail to have

a bouquet each Spring

 of

young wishberries

and violets.

 

I perused the yard and I only found one actual wishberry.

 

It wasn't a perfectly round seed pod of puff and promise.

 

It was actually kind of small and tattered.

 

It was battered by the wind and last night's rain.

 

But still the promises were there,

in the seeds

that waited to be released

from their tiny station on the stem.

 

The seed held the promise for more young wishberries.

 

The seeds will float,

float away,

still a part of their past,

but becoming something new.

 

Renewal

Growth

I suppose life

just isn't life

without it.

Scattering and change

and yet

still

hope for regrowth.

 

When there is enough rain and wind and battering,

 

those seeds will

loosen their grip and spread

 

and there will be more yellow polka dots across

 

the lawn.

 

I know most people don't like them.

And find them to be a nuisance.

 

I see hope...

in the promise of the wishberry.

 

Don't you?

You Are Really Gonna Be Somethin' Pretty Awesome!

He said he awoke to sounds

 of someone coming in through the window,

and instantly,

 his stomach was in his throat.

So leaving the safety of his bed

 he began to search for the intruder.

Upon closer inspection,

 he realized

 that the

"intruder coming through the window"

was nothing more

 than his son's gerbil

taking a midnight spin

 on the gerbil wheel!

 

He was unnerved.

Wide awake.

All systems primed to kill the gerbil.

And yet,

there was safety in the house.

Home was a refuge,

a safe refuge.

And though he didn't say,

I suppose he went back to bed,

and I would imagine

 sleep was long in coming.

 

I overheard my brother

relate this story a few days ago.

He told how the incident

completely unnerved him.

I've thought about it all day today,

 off and on

and

I've thought about how

life can deal you some blows

those hard difficult blows

that just simply

 slug your stomach

to your throat
in much the same way
that my brother felt.

Often those blows

bring up emotions

and

responses to fear.
 

F.E.A.R.

f...false

e...evidence

a...appearing

r...real

 

I know

I know...

not always...

is fear based on false evidence,

but yes,

 sometimes it really is.

 

This evening late,

thunder rumbled,

lightening flashed,

the wind blew,

leaves swirled across the yard,

the temperature cooled,

the humidity evaporated.

We gathered on the porch

to enjoy a summer storm.

 

And yet,

everything

we heard

and saw

was false evidence.

There was no storm.

There was no rain.

 

On a particularly long

and stressful day,

not too long ago,

I told my husband,

"If we can just get through this,

 we are gonna be SO AWESOME!"

Ha ha ha,
now I chuckle at my attempts.
 

I was trying to keep it light

and

interject the positive

and try to feel things

that neither of us probably

felt like feeling.

But hey, why not try?

Right?

And he would chuckle

 and respond with a half hearted,

 "Yeah."

 

Because you've probably dealt

 with some of the same things we have,

when life is

knocking you around
and
slugging your stomach
right up to your Adam's apple

and the thunder is rumbling

and the lightening is flashing

and on top of all that...

you think you hear an
 "intruder comin' through the window".

 

When all along,
that ruckus,
that noise,
that emergency,
that tough time,
  is just the gerbil on the wheel.
 

So don't give in to fear I tell ya.

Recognize

"that gerbil"

"that intruder"

"that joy stealer"

"that worry maker"

"that energy zapper"

for what he really is,

and focus on

Truth

and

Peace

and

Joy

and

Love

and

Comfort.

 

I have to tell myself that too.

Because many times fear is from

false

evidence

appearing

real.

 

So tell me,

how do you deal with fear?

 

He knows the way I take and when He has tried me I will come forth as gold.

Old Testament Book of Job, Chapter 23 verse 10

 

So look out y'all,

once you get through whatever

 it is you are going through,

you are gonna be somethin' really awesome. 

 Just you wait and see!

An Unexpected Reminder

Last week we drove a couple hours North to Wabash

 and then headed West a few miles,

 deep into Indiana farm land. 

 As we rounded the bend toward our son's friend's house,

 there across the barren corn field stood this barn

 with the flag image shingled into the roof.

 

I was caught by surprise to see it there.

And  I was proud.

My phone lens attempting to zoom across a half mile or so,

simply doesn't do the picturesque scene justice,

but it still reminds me

of my heritage,

my freedom

and

my memories

of loved ones

gone before.
Thank you to those men and women
in uniform who have made the ultimate sacrifice
for our freedom.

 

Sometimes we just need a visual reminder, don't we?

~~~~

Fear not, for I am with you.

Be not dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you.

Yes, I will

 help you,

I will uphold you

with My

righteous right hand.

 

Old Testament Book of Isaiah

Chapter 41 verse 10

~~~~~~~

That is really great news!

Isn't it?

My Parents' Gift To Me

It's hard to believe that it's been more than a week already since my birthday,

and that May is more than half over.

Sigh.

Where is time going?

My son took this photo.

It's there to prove 

I have "etchings" from life

and living.

:)

"Etchings of living"

ah yes,

what would life be without the scars 

and lessons

and new insight?

Would it just be a meaningless

existence of days?

I don't want to live like that.
It seems life is made up in the daily journey.

 

Last Thursday I wanted to post 

and say how thankful I was to have another birthday...

and all that stuff I say on my birthday

every year.

And I mean all of it.

It is my parents' gift to me.

I open that gift with every breath I breathe.

And I am filled with thanksgiving.

 

I am thankful for life

and health

and safety

and joy.

 

But we had deadlines that day.

Deadlines that really were deadlines.

They weren't moving targets.

Stuff had to be done,

THAT day,

not some other day.

 

So we started at 5:30 that morning

 in hopes of "knocking it out"

right away.

At 8:30 that night we finished!

 

We finished!

Yay!

We met THAT deadline.

Then we jumped in the car 

and went to get a bite to eat

I hadn't cooked all day.

 

No fanfare.

No singing.

No balloons and confetti.

 

BUT

No less a birthday.

My birthday.

I was really happy to be having

ANOTHER ONE!

Not everyone gets that privilege!

 

I am blessed!

My family...

Safe...

Happy...

Together...

It was so sweet

 when I looked in

 and saw that my daughter 

had changed the chalkboard message.

She said she was going to draw the dog on there

until she remembered that my name

Rachel

means 

lamb.

All day long I received messages,

texts,

phone calls,

cards.

Our son went to Walmart about midnight and bought

German Chocolate Cake Mix

and

Coconut Pecan Icing!

He made a cake the next day.

Around 10:30, the next night,

 the 16th,

three of us decided to eat the 

German Chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream,

while one slept,

while one hung out with friends,

three of us ate.

mmmm~mmmm~mmmm

it was good!

So I had a good birthday.

Yes, I had a birthday.

And who knows...

maybe we will celebrate

on June 15th,

and throw confetti

and release helium filled balloons,

and take an impromptu trip to 

Prince Edward Island
(a dream, a wish)

and laugh

and

sing happy birthday 

to the top of our lungs

and eat more cake.

Or not.

And you know, 

I'm just fine with that.

Because I still had a birthday.

I am blessed.

How To Cut An Onion Without Crying

At the very bottom of this blog post,

you will find the directions for cutting an onion without crying.

In my experience, if I vary from this at all,

I will cry...
so I do it the same way every time.
Do not vary from the directions.

If you want to read the story behind the method, then keep reading!

Thanks for stopping by!

~~~~

I'm not picky about the type of onion that I buy...sweet, Vidalia, white, etc.

I buy what is on sale,

unless I need a red one to garnish a salad.

I don't eat raw onions.

Nope, just will not do it...don't care for the smell or taste!

And I love vegetables, but is an onion really a vegetable?

However I know they are extremely healthy,

so I usually include them in meat dishes

or stir fry

and when we have a meal

that I know my guests will enjoy them as a garnish.

My onions are stored under our kitchen island in a large plastic bowl.

I always chop the whole onion.

Any I don't use, goes straight into a Ziploc bag

and promptly to the freezer,

ready for use in a cooked meal.

That way my fridge doesn't smell like freshly chopped onion either...

just a few of my quirks revealed here!

I originally posted this on January 12, 2010,

but have been asked how I cut an onion without crying,

so I am re posting it today.

At Christmas one of my sisters was here for a few days.

We were having a large family meal with my husband's side of the family.

A big bowl of chopped onions was part of the menu (chili...another post).

I plopped 3 very large onions down on the counter and told my sister,

"Here, chop these."

I went about my business with other "kitcheny things"

like you do preparing a meal,

when suddenly I realized that I was crying,

no actually bawling...

a full on 4 tissue cry!

I thought, "What in the world?"

Looking at my sister, saw that she was crying too.

Her eyes were clamped tightly closed

with her nose daintily tipped in the air.

Her hands were stretched as far away from herself as possible

and still be able to chop the onion.

Tears were streaming down her face.

I apologized profusely through my tears for making her cry.

Now, doesn't that sound silly?

I had no idea that chopping onions

would have that effect on her or myself for that matter!

I said, "I never cry when I chop onions,

I wouldn't have asked you to do it if I'd have known they made you cry."

She wanted to know how I chopped an onion,

so I grabbed a knife and an onion and started to show her.

Then we began to laugh.

How could I possibly show her that my way of chopping an onion

doesn't make you cry...we were both in a full on cry at the time! A few days later and hundreds of miles away she sent me a text message. She'd cut an onion for a meal,

MY WAY,

and she hadn't cried!

Amazing!

It feels very egotistical to call cutting an onion MY WAY...

I didn't even really realize that I had "a way" until I started to show her,

then Ah ha, it hit me...

I do this the same way

every.single.time.

every.single.time!

had.never.realized.

Ah the things learned from a Sis! I just wonder if this will work for anyone else.

Last night I chopped an onion

and I could feel the "onion juice" spray on my fingers

and I did feel a slight burning sensation in my eyes and I thought,

"Oh no, I've put myself on the line here

and now I'm truly gonna cry."

But the sensation went away and I didn't cry.

I'm sorry these photos are blurry,

but quite frankly I was a tad bit grossed out

with the idea of getting onion juice on the camera,

so this is what I got.

And speaking of onion juice,

when I'm finished chopping,

I put a tiny bit of dish detergent in my hands

and hold a stainless steel spoon while I wash the soap off of my hands...

no stinky onion smell!

So well there,

now I've told you all I know about chopping an onion in about 8.7 minutes. I'd love to know if this works for you too.

1. Cut the stem of the onion off first.

2. Peel down the papery skin and the first layer of the onion sorta like shucking corn. You know what that is right?

3. Cut off the root and the papery skin stuff and the first layer or two of the onion all a the same time...just cut right across all of it and separate it from the bottom of the onion.

4. Set the onion down on a cutting board, stem end down on the board..

5. Make a slice through the onion, vertically, in half, with the root end towards you...remember you put the stem end down on the cutting board.

6. Then lay both halves of the onion down on the plate cut side down.

7. Begin to make slices through one half of the onion, starting at the stem side, cutting so the slices make little arches.

8. Turn the onion half that is sliced in little arches around, and make another cut across the arches to make little onion pieces. You can make all of these slices as big or as little as your recipe demands. For stir fry I make big slices and for meat dishes, I try to make little tiny slices.

9. If you have a food processor, none of this matters anyway.

10. Hurry stop reading this and go chop an onion. Do a happy dance if you don't cry. Be sure to wash away the stinky onion juice holding a stainless steel spoon, and then rush right back to your computer and tell me if it works for you too.

If it does...I think I'll just set right down and have myself a good cry, a full on 4 tissue bawl my eyeballs out kind of cry!

Happy chopping.

Love, Rachel

I'm sorry for the blurry pictures. I hope they helped a tiny bit.
As soon as I can, I will update the photos.

P.S. If you read to the very end of all of this, thank you thank you so much!

On a side note:

Last night as she sauntered into the kitchen our little girl said, "By the way, what's for supper mama? It's gotta be something romantic!" "Romantic!" I said, "Where'd ya get that idea?"

I wonder if chicken tacos qualifies as romantic?

She must have thought so because she scurried around to write menus and set up a restaurant!

Do You Understand A Dog's Nose?

 I was not impressed

 when I discovered that the coon dog pup

had dug a basketball size hole

under the play set.

However, I was grateful

that

it was under the play set,

so I didn't have to see it every time

I walked into the backyard.

 Upon closer inspection,

 I realized

 that he had stopped digging

when he got to this glass bottle.

So I lifted it out with a shovel.

Why did the dog stop digging

when he got to the bottle?

Did he smell it?

And if he did smell it,

why now?

Why not months ago?

Once he saw it was a bottle

did he loose interest?

Did the smell dissipate?

I just don't understand a dog's nose.

Do you?

And he wouldn't answer any of my questions.

I have no idea how things like this get buried.

When I showed it to him,

I expected the pup to lift it off the shovel

 with his teeth and prance around

 the yard with his "trophy".

He just gave it a passing "ho hum" glance.

 

I said, "Good job pup. 

Next time dig up a million bucks."

 

I don't think he was listening.

Things Are Not Always As They Seem

Do you have some days that are particularly grueling?

Seriously!

Do you?

Yeah, me too!

Last Wednesday,

 May 7th,

was sunny and warm.

I can't remember if there were clouds in the sky.

But certainly there seemed to be no rain, anywhere.

We had an appointment,

downtown Indianapolis.

From the 25th floor

 of the high rise office building,

everything was clear,

it seemed.

The sun was shining brightly

 and glinting off the mirrored

windows of the other buildings.

 

 

Surprisingly,

 the streets stretched through canopies of trees,

making the downtown look more like a forest,

than a bustling city.

From my vantage point,

I saw the cars,

 and buses and bicycles,

and pedestrians

and watched the symphony

 of hurry and scurry.

 

There seemed to be some order to all of it.

But I couldn't help but wonder what the lives

on the streets below me were bearing. 

What were the stories being written in those lives,

those lives on the streets below?

 

 Around 8 p.m. our meeting ended.

We headed toward home.

Dusk was beginning to show the shadows of night.

As we drove,

 I was sorting through files

and rearranging notes.

 

I looked up to my right,

 just in time to see this rainbow!

What?

A rainbow?

It wasn't raining.

There was no rain.

 

In my concentration

on the task at hand,

I almost missed this miracle!

 

And I've lived long enough...

just barely long enough...

to realize that things are not always

as they seem.

 

no rain

still a rainbow

behind clouds

 sunshine

seeds germinating below the soil

then harvest comes

 

That's where faith and trust come in.

 

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts,

 neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord.

As the heavens are higher than the earth,

 so are my ways higher than your ways,

and my thoughts than your thoughts."

 

Isaiah chapter 55 verses 8-9 

Old Testament Holy Bible

 

Are you struggling with faith and trust? 

Are your feelings clouding your dreams?

Things are not always as they seem.