Journal: ♫ ♪ I Serve A Risen Savior! ♪ ♫

 

Last Tuesday morning, two bunnies and one squirrel were in the neighbor’s yard just across the lane.  One bunny ran at the other; the other jumped straight up three feet in the air, in usual bunny fashion.  The squirrel, not expecting this, proceeded to also leap straight up, tail twirling, quite as if he hoped to turn into a helicopter and whip-whip-whip himself right outa there.  He reached approximately the same altitude the bunny had before gravity regained its grip and brought him back down to earth.  (Photo by Will Nicholls)

He landed closer than expected to the bunnies, and they, probably in the throes of mirth, pretended to be startled, each hopping straight upwards again, one after the other, which in turn re-startled the squirrel.  He, not pretending, bounded upwards and outwards, and this time when he landed, he was running as he hit.  He was through the fence and up a tall maple tree in five seconds flat, scampering out onto an overhanging branch to chatter and scold the bunnies with a good degree of ferocity.  (Photo of bunnies from National Geographic Kids)

A handful of Common grackles who’d been displaced by the squirrel scolded and fussed, too.

The bunnies nibbled grass and ignored them. ‘We di’nt do nuttin’; they’re a-not hollerin’ at us.’

Having spent enough time laughing at the local fauna, I went off to blow-dry and curl my hair, eat some breakfast, start another load of clothes, and head upstairs to work on the Constellation quilt.

That afternoon as I put the last load of clothes away, I noticed that our trees are just starting to show little buds on them, and the grass is starting to turn green.

For supper that evening, I made hamburger vegetable stew.  I browned and seasoned the hamburger, and started potatoes, baby carrots, and onions cooking in a big pot.  After adding the hamburger, I poured in frozen corn, peas, green beans, and diced carrots.  While the soup simmered, I removed newsprint paper from the back of the final quilt block.

The stew was done about the time Larry came home.  Did the aroma bring him in??

Mmmm, it was scrumptious.  After having some the following night (stew is almost always better on Day 2, ever notice that?), I divided and froze the rest.  It would be enough for three more meals.

By 10:00 p.m., the central part of the Constellation quilt was done, and the newsprint all removed from those paper-pieced blocks.  It was now big enough that it didn’t fit in the floor space in the little library anymore without being rumpled.

Wednesday morning at 10:30 a.m., it was cold, 37°.  But, wonder of wonders, it started raining that afternoon and kept at it for several hours.  We needed it so badly, I didn’t even protest (much, heh) when I had to grab an umbrella as I headed out to the Mercedes at church time that evening.

I spent 5 ½ hours that day working on the first couple of borders for the Constellation quilt.  I attached the one with the brown squares and the blue star points, then cut all the cream-colored squares and triangles for the next border – 108 pieces all together.  I got all the star points in that border sewn to the middle triangle.  I would be ready to start sewing those to the cream-colored squares the next day.

Ladies on my quilting group were talking about the hummingbirds that would soon be coming their way.  We have very few hummingbirds here.  Once in a blue moon I see one or two, but only as they migrate through.  They do like the gazillions of big white hosta blossoms in the front yard in late summer and early autumn.  I have a hummingbird feeder that I put out now and then, but it rarely attracts hummingbirds these days.  

Several years ago, for a couple of years in a row, there were half a dozen Ruby-throated hummingbirds having rip-roaring fights over that feeder.  I once saw one attack another with that French cuirassier saber on the front of his wee head, bringing him right down to the porch, where they rolled around in a flutter of feathers and teeny tiny toenails before tumbling right over the edge and into the flowers in a twittering fluff.

Fearing a cat or two might be lurking in one of the hosta plants, I scurried out to prevent any carnage.  There were no cats around, fortunately, and the hummingbirds eventually let loose of each other and zipped off to do battle elsewhere.  

One sat still long enough that I managed to get a picture of him.  This one with the telltale extra-large patch of white feathers behind his left eye showed up two years in a row, unless it was his identical twin, Year 2.  

A few days ago, I listened to “Driven From Home: A Converted Jewess – Jeanette Gedalius”, a Scroll Reader link Robert sent me.  Some people follow God even through great persecution!  Some people won’t follow God, even though they have it easy.

It was a rainy day again Thursday, 39° at 10:00 a.m., on the way up to 44°.  My weather app said it was only cloudy – but the sidewalk, porch, and deck were all wet, and there were water drops all over the windows.  Sure looked like rain to me!

I did some necessary housecleaning (who messed up the kitchen?!), and then I returned to my quilting studio to continue putting borders on the Constellation quilt.  That day, I began listening to the book, They Who Comforted: Fanny Crosby & Agnes Weston.

Fanny Crosby’s beautiful poems sometimes make me cry, they are so touching.  I can never read the first dear little poem she wrote when she was just 8 years old without shedding tears over it.  Here it is:

 

Oh, what a happy child I am

Although I cannot see;

I am resolved that in this world

Contented I will be!

How many blessings I enjoy

That other people don’t;

To weep or sigh because I’m blind,

I cannot, nor I won’t!

I smiled when I heard the beloved singer-songwriter Al Smith say to an audience to whom he’d been singing and quoting Fanny Crosby songs, “I can’t read that one to you; I cry!”

As I washed dishes later, I watched a video of a pretty stroll in Ireland.

And then my smartwatch thoroughly insulted me.  I’d been rushing around cleaning the kitchen, including more dishes than two people should’ve dirtied, at top speed... then made a jug of cold-brew coffee with Aroma Ridge’s Chocolate Trilogy beans... made myself a thermal mug of Strawberry Coconut Celsius and another tall mug of Starbucks Madagascar Vanilla cold-brew coffee with Italian Sweet Crème CoffeeMate to take back upstairs with me – and suddenly my watch vibrated with the message, ‘Sitting Too Long, You Lazy Couch Bum.’ 

Where’s my hammer?

That evening as I sewed, my seam ripper fell off the sewing table and landed point first right into the pinewood plank floor.  If I was like some idgets I see on YouTube and other social media platforms, I’d scream and leap up and down like something extraordinarily monumental just happened.  (Not that I would scream and leap up and down even if something extraordinarily monumental did happen.)  (And in any case, the ripper would probably then extract itself from the floor and turn itself pointed end up, and I’d step on it with a bare foot.)

Friday, it was cloudy and damp again, and the high would only be 40°.  But look, my crocuses are blooming!

The Chocolate Trilogy cold-brew coffee had steeped for nearly 18 hours, so I poured myself a mugful.  (Well, actually, I pour a third of a mugful and fill it the rest of the way with water, as it’s fairly concentrated.) 

It’s a new flavor.  I don’t usually care for chocolate flavors in my coffee; but most of Aroma Ridge’s chocolate flavors are good, and this one is no exception:  it’s scrumptious.  Not too chocolatey, it’s just right, with hints of dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and white chocolate.  Perfect.

Back in my sewing room, I started to pin the narrow dark brown border on the Constellation quilt – and discovered the strips I’d prepared were too long.  Knowing they were precisely the length shown in EQ8, I thought, Did I miss a border?  A look at EQ8 confirmed:  Yep, I’d skipped the cream-colored narrow border.  So I cut it, pieced it, attached it – and then the narrow brown border fit.  Next, the wider blue border... and then the quilt top was done.

When I finished working on quilt borders and went downstairs to fix supper that evening, I had done 6 ½ hours of sewing that day.  That makes a total of 155 ½ hours that I’ve spent on this quilt so far.  The quilt is 108¼” x 108¼”.  This image is from EQ8, as I don’t have any place big enough to spread the quilt top out and get a picture of it, and the back deck was damp.  The ‘real’ top is more random and scrappy than this image.

A lady on Facebook asked, “How long have you been at it?”

“Do you mean, this quilt specifically, or quilting in general?” I asked.  “This quilt has about 155 ½ hours in it.  As for quilting, I’ve been sewing and quilting for about 56 years, as I started when I was 9.  And now I’ve gone and told you my age.  😄”

“Never was quick with math!” she responded.

“Let me help,” said I.  “Those numbers all add up to 220 ½.  I must be 220 years old!”

She seemed quite unimpressed.

Here’s a picture from the Artemis II spacecraft:

See the Aurora Australis (curved sliver of green) about 15 degrees from top center?  The Aurora Borealis is visible at the bottom.  Venus is at 5:00.  The Sahara dominates the lower left of the image.  You can see the Strait of Gibraltar and Spain below it (the South Pole is near the top of the globe).  Amazing, isn’t it? 

As it says in Job 26:7, “He stretcheth out the north over the empty place, and hangeth the earth upon nothing.”  We have a wonderful, all-powerful God!  And yet He cares for me.

Saturday, bag-packing was on my agenda, because we were planning to leave for eastern Wisconsin Monday morning, in order to pick up a couple of small scissor lifts, a walk-behind sweeper, and, uhhhh, ... ? ... some other smallish steel motorized thing Larry bought on Purple Wave auctions.  

Larry said he thought we could make this trip in two days, whereupon I announced that I was staying home.  He then allowed as how we could take as long as we wished, whereupon I threw my hat back into the ring.

It’s going to be cold in eastern Wisconsin until Wednesday (a high of 39° Tuesday, a high of 64° on Wednesday).

By a quarter after 2, packing had begun.  

Witness: 

1) I printed a list of Stuff ’n Things

2) I put one of my business cards (for quilting) in the tag holder on one of the rolling suitcases.

A couple of hours later, four bags were packed, and camera paraphernalia was ready.  All my stuff was as ready as it could be; I would pack the rest Monday morning after I finished using it. 

Next, I gathered up Larry’s things.  (If I don’t, he’ll only take one shirt, one pair of britches, one pair of socks – and then we’d have to stop and buy more.)

There were Harris’ sparrows and White-crowned sparrows out in the front lawn, hopping around and pecking up seeds and the few insects that might’ve been out and about.  It was 48°, with a windchill of 38°, as the wind was blowing at 33 mph; not many insects brave weather like that.  The little White-crowned sparrows look like tiny skunks as they hop my way, with their cute little striped heads.

The almost-white Eurasian collared dove that I’ve been noticing was there, too.  It’s not albino.  I learned from Birds @ Outdoor Nebraska that it’s called a ‘pale Eurasian collared dove’.  How ’bout that.

When I had as much packed as I could pack that day, I looked online at various State Parks, points of interest, and places to stay near Lake Michigan.

Since our Easter Sunrise Service was at 7:00 a.m. and I planned to get up before 4:30 a.m., I went to bed at the very early hour (for me) of 10:30 a.m., expecting to sleep quite well, since I hadn’t slept much the previous night. 

No such luck.  After a short but violent bout with the bed linens, I fell asleep – only to awaken at a quarter after two.  Sleep evaded me after that, though, as usual, I was just becoming a bit fuzzy and thinking I could possibly drop off to sleep again, when the alarm went off.

Years ago, a preacher friend gave Daddy a small card – business-card sized – on which was printed a black cat.  It said, under a heading of ‘For All Parishioners’, “When you think you are too sick to go to church, breathe on the cat.  If it turns purple, you are sick enough to stay home.”  (Of course it was just plain black ink, and never changed color.  😅)

One time when Daddy first started in the ministry, years before my time, he asked the congregation if anyone would like to give a testimony.

Up popped, uh... let’s call him the ‘I’ve Been Everywhere’ guy.

He puffed out his chest and launched in:  “I’ve been all over these 48 states and part of Philadelphia...”

I don’t know the rest of the story, because that’s all Daddy ever told.  😄

We’ve all said that ever since I can remember – “I’ve been all over these 48 states and part of Philadelphia!”  Mr. Everywhere Guy had no idea that he would live on in infamy from that one ‘testimony’ alone.

Shortly after 5:00 a.m. Sunday morning, it was 31°, on the way up to 67°.  I was blow-drying and curling my hair, getting ready for our Sunrise Service.  We would have breakfast in the Fellowship Hall after the service, at 8:00 a.m.

The robins were singing like anything when we stepped out of the house this morning at 6:40 a.m.  I remember being delighted to step outside on Easter morning when I was a little girl, and walk the short distance from the parsonage to the church while the birds serenaded us.

I always look forward with much anticipation to the beautiful music, and the wonderful resurrection story, old yet ever new.  ♫ ♪ He Lives!  ♪ ♫ 

I remember how amazed I was once, as a wee little girl, when my father said, “Nobody needed to roll that stone away in order for the Lord to arise; the angel did that as one more proof that He was indeed alive!”

We came back home a little after nine, Larry to take a nap and me to don a different set of glad rags.  As usual after our Easter breakfast, I was too full, even though I’d passed up the dinner rolls and the doughnuts.  I had a hard-boiled egg (by accident – because I thought my great-niece who was waiting on our table was asking me if she could hand me a big bowl of hard-boiled eggs to pass along the table, and when I said yes, she just handed me an egg, to my surprise!  hee hee), a small scoop of cheesy scrambled eggs (yummy), a bowl of fruit (mandarin oranges, grapes, honeydew, cantaloupe, blueberries, and strawberries), a miniature banana muffin with a swirl of cream cheese on top, one piece of sausage, a sliver of ham, a glass of chocolate milk, and a cup of tea.

Wow.  No wonder I was too full.  I’m used to eating half a bagel, toasted, with peanut butter and honey, or a bowl of oatmeal, with a glass of milk, and that’s it!

Here I am all decked out in my church finery.  The navy and white was for the Sunrise Service, the peach and white for the 11:00 a.m. service, and the pink and white for the evening service.

Taking selfies in the mirror with my tablet makes me look moonfaced and walleyed and cross-eyed, all at once. 

Our men’s choir sang during our the Sunrise Service.  In that group is one grandson (Aaron), two sons-in-law (Kurt and Bobby), one nephew-in-law (Charles), two great-nephews, five great-nephews-in-law, and one first cousin once removed.  I find such things amazing, since, as I grew up, very few of our parishioners were related to me.  The older we get, the more offspring and relations we have, that’s a fact!

The brass band played at the start of the 11:00 a.m. service, and the mixed choir sang just before the message.  Bobby is the band director.  Aaron and Levi play French horns.

The string orchestra played before the evening service.  The young girl who plays the harp does it so beautifully.  Granddaughter Emma plays the cello.

A girls’ group sang before the message.  Afterwards, we had a luncheon in our Fellowship Hall.

We took the long way home after church last night – and came upon a beaver mucking along in an arroyo beside a country road.  

When we stopped, he stared at us, then lumbered right up onto the road toward our car!  This generally makes me think, Rabies! – but he was just wanting to cross the road to a wooded creek in a shallow canyon on the other side.  Since we were stopped, he paused, sized things up – and went trundling right underneath the Mercedes.

We then drove around Lake North on our way home.  The sun had already gone down, and the sky was dark orange at the horizon, turning lighter orange as it blended into the blue of the sky above.

Wouldn’t you know, we only had Larry’s phone cam, and not my good Canon.

It’s chilly today, with a high of 44°.  An inch of snow could fall later tonight around the area.  But we won’t be here; we’re just about ready to head to Wisconsin. 

Or at least I keep hoping we are.  It is now 2:30 p.m., and I’ve been ready for several hours, waiting for Larry to finish getting his pickup and enclosed trailer ready.  He just went up to the unfinished addition to get his shop vac in order to clean out the pickup – and got stalled out up there looking at damage caused by raccoons.  Siggghhhh...

We really need to get that part of the house finished, and actually move into it.  Then we’d be right there on hand anytime raccoons or squirrels or bats or suchlike try to get in, and we could yell “BOO!!!” at them and thus discourage them from trying to inhabit the place.  (That’s the correct modus operandi, right?)

Well, anyway, I’m glad I slept another hour after first waking up.  I had plenty of time to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen, and I got the trash ready to be taken out as we’re leaving.  In one trashcan is the skin from the salmon we had for supper the other night.  It certainly wouldn’t be nice to leave that in the house until we get home again!  🤪😜

Time to start hauling bags out to the pickup, I think, I hope!

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,