Spring!

The yard is suddenly in bloom, and as a result, so is the pollen! The colorful rewards are worth the scratchy throat and itchy eyes. 

Phlox and other happy plants in front yard

Dogwood in front side yard

Rhododendron under front window

Azaleas that burst forth suddenly, and are gone just as fast

The beginning of blueberries

First rose blossom

Mossy patches in woods behind our house

Babies stopped to rest on the moss!

Dianthus, or "pinks," that come back fuller each year

Clematis growing on the side of the house is a welcome sight.

We are close to completing Fabre's Storybook of Science, which we've read twice a week all school year. I loved this passage: 

I can't add one more thing on that subject!

Speaking of school... 

We have a few more weeks to go. When I realized we had eight weeks left of Ambleside, I decided to condense those into four! This required doubling up on some chapters, and omitting others, but it works. We finished Stevenson's unabridged Kidnapped, a big accomplishment, and made it through our first year of Latin. It may have "killed the Romans," to quote my dad, but we'll pick it back up next year!

We examined these works of Winslow Homer over a term, and enjoyed learning about his life. He loved to paint outside, regardless of weather, set up inside a makeshift fort, capturing his subjects in their natural settings: 

My favorite is "Snap the Whip," the second in the second row. I can hear those boys' laughter, and imagine their panting and yelling as they gleefully play in the schoolyard.

As I was reading about the end of the Revolutionary War from Foster's George Washington's World, one daughter sketched this priceless cartoon of King George's astonishment, as Ben Franklin happily looks on: 

As for math, we continue to love Horizons, with its wide variety of practical exercises. I like the freedom of circling specific problems for the girls to do, while being able to skip over areas they've mastered. It allows us to progress at the right pace and focus on what needs practice, making the most of our time. One day, I had to do a drawing to distinguish among angles. It took me back to the days of Sister Fintan's math class at St. Paul's School, and I tried to replicate her examples and pristine cursive: 

Those were happy times in Catholic school...I learned well and enjoy applying some of it to my own teaching! 

Finally, it's way overdue, but I couldn't resist posting the Easter cake the girls made. It was a perfect ushering-in of new life, with a light, fabulous almond taste! 

Thank You, Lord, for new creations! Let us live in the freedom for which You died to set us free.

Spotless

It was one of those times when little annoyances seem magnified. There was spiritual warfare in the air! I knew it, but all I could do was say, "Help, Lord. Forgive my rotten attitude. Help me to focus and not fall into traps." 

Satan hates all I do that's good for my children. He especially hated that I'd decided to take my younger daughter out for breakfast, just the two of us. Since my girls are close in age and usually together, I've begun finding ways to spend a little individual time with them. Our enemy detests that; he doesn't want to see mother/daughter relationships growing. 

My girl had felt it, too; she even went to bed the night before saying, "I don't really wanna go tomorrow." I knew what that was all about....he can get into all of our heads, and likes to start young. We went anyway, and had a fabulous time. When we got home, more battles ensued.

First, it was sisters fighting over how screen time would be allocated later. Then there was grumbling over math. Then there was my skipping sections of the book because the tension in the air was thick, and my nerves were frying. Then I looked out the window and noticed three (not just one anymore; he went and told all his friends) squirrels wreaking havoc at the bird feeder. Finally, I noticed that the spray bottle I'd grabbed to scare them off had had some type of old, gooey, white paint on it...which was now not only on my hands, but also on my pants, some of my favorite pants. It all added up to a snowball of pesky annoyances, the kind that you know aren't a big deal, but the devil uses the combination to blow a person's top!

I was indignant over the white spot on my blue pants. The more I scrubbed to get it out (in Shakespeare style, "Out, damn spot! OUT, I say!"), the more I realized that it wasn't going to come out. I threw them in the washer and hoped for the best, all the while telling the Lord I wasn't proud over all my frustrations that morning. I couldn't get past the fact that if my girl and I had a delightful time at breakfast, the enemy was going to find some other way to irritate us.

When I took them out, there was a sinking feeling when I looked and saw that the spot indeed hadn't come out. Oh, well, I thought as I hung them on the drying rack. The pants look kind of denim, so at least it'll sort of blend in. What more could I do?

I went back to the laundry room at least an hour later to throw in a load of whites. I glanced at my pants again to see if the stain had become less noticeable. Where was it? Yes, those are the same pants, I thought, and I'm looking right where that stain was...but WHERE is it?! I looked once more. I know that stain was there, I told myself. I saw it and lamented it when I pulled the wet pants out to dry! Then it hit me: God had removed that stain.

"They're spotless!" I told myself. And the Holy Spirit, in His still, quiet way, told me..."Just like you." I was dumbfounded.

Nothing I could do, no amount of fixing or trying, was able to remove that stain. God Himself had to do it. What a beautiful visual of my salvation: nothing in my power was able to take away the stain of my sin, except Christ Himself. I fully believe God gave me this experience as a beautiful reminder. I wasn't looking for it; I simply had gone to Him in repentance over how silly I'd acted about all that insignificant stuff, and how I'd allowed the enemy to get under my skin. In His grace, my sweet Lord loved me back like only He can. I am spotless, just like the pants. It's how He sees me, and I'm overcome.

Hey, Moms of Girls!
I just finished a fantastic must-read for those of us with what they now call "tweens," or girls ages 8 to 12. In her book, Six Ways to Keep the "Little" in Your Girl, purity expert Dannah Gresh advises and encourages moms of girls on how to have those difficult conversations many of us have been afraid of. Through her own experiences, Gresh sheds light on how we can approach hard conversations about the changes our girls will soon go through, and God's perfect design for sex and motherhood. She tackles how to handle them when our girls are still what many of us consider "too young," but warns that waiting until they're teenagers to approach these topics is waiting too late. In our culture, we must equip our daughters with accurate, Biblical information, or someone else will fill their heads with the opposite. 

I don't always enjoy "how-to" books, but this wasn't like that at all. Dannah Gresh has done her homework, and understands how moms, girls, and the world think. Her book reads as one friend talking to another, mom-to-mom. She imparts the wisdom and courage that we moms need to train up our girls in the way they should go. When they are older, they will not depart from it; I trust these words because the Bible tells me so (Proverbs 22:6).

Another resource I'd purchased long ago that I decided to pull out is The Christian Girl's Guide to Change, Inside and Out by Rebecca Park Totilo. This is a simple, fun, interactive book where girls learn about body changes, hormones, and health, and they get to answer questions and read funny scenarios, with Bible verses scattered throughout. My older daughter was enjoying it so much, I decided to get one for her sister, too. Dannah Gresh says that even if girls haven't yet experienced the changes they're learning about, they will be well prepared. I like this book because it's light-hearted and focuses only on body changes, not sex or reproduction. It's one that my girls can enjoy on their own, knowing I won't read the things they write. 

Finally, I wondered...what to do about the "biggies" I mentioned being excluded in the fun book? What's just enough to tell them, and what can wait? I found How You Are Changing for girls ages 9-11, and we're going a chapter at a time. It's a good idea to peruse the reading before you read it aloud to your child(ren). One dilemma I had was the feeling that my older girl was ready for some information that I might want to wait on for the younger. I struggled a bit on how to handle this, because remember, they do a lot together. I prayed for wisdom, and the answer was simple: skip the "heavy" parts when reading to both girls, and take time alone with my older girl to go back and read those parts just to her. 

No one ever said we can't omit, or "read over," parts our kids can't handle at the moment. It's like with a movie; we can fast-forward through an inappropriate scene in an otherwise worthwhile film. We have the autonomy to gauge our kids' readiness. (Side note: this reminds me of the time I was reading to them from Lang's Blue Fairy Book, written in the late 1800's. Thankfully, I caught the word "hussy" and changed it to something else before it slipped out! I haven't always been so fortunate, but they're guaranteed learning experiences).

Pure, spotless...it's how He sees us, and how He wants us to live. May we trust Him to grow us in it, always.

Gem Mining

I take for granted the gem mine that is about half a mile from my house. What a perfect place to learn about God's creation! I decided almost two weeks ago to put a visit to the gem mine on our calendar. We spent a delightful morning panning and discovering a variety of stones today.

I bought each girl a bucket, and since they had taken some of their own money, they each decided to buy themselves two more buckets. After sifting through three buckets apiece, we had some dandy finds to take to the identifier. These belong to one of my girls: 

The young man who told us what we had was not only knowledgable, he was crazy about gems! His enjoyment of his job was evident, and he patiently answered all our questions.

Here are some of the girls' finds:

This clear, spotted agate is smooth on one side, rough on the other. It can be put on a necklace as-is. It's my daughter's favorite stone that she found.

Blue apatite...cool name, and fantastic color!

The labradorite looks like an everyday backyard rock,

but is often made into jewelry.

Isn't this an unusual stone? Red jasper rubs red color onto your finger!

I'm crazy about this green opal.

Kinda plain looking, right? These are the reason the lady tells customers to not discard anything, regardless of how ordinary it looks. 

The bottom stone is a semiprecious garnet (we found two). 

The top stone is a precious sapphire.

Both can be taken to a jeweler to be polished.

I'd never have recognized them in their natural states!

This is amethyst, even the very clear one. 

Hints of purple shine through.

These remind me of my favorite lipstick color back in the late '80's,

"pink quartz." Actually, it may be rose quartz.

Mustard jasper

This green adventurine is my other daughter's favorite of the stones she collected. I like its name, too!

Finally, no gem mine is complete without geodes! An employee called all the kids over to watch as she cracked one open. Geodes are rocks that contain cavities filled with crystals. My girls were thrilled to get to take pieces home:

I highly recommend finding a gem mine to visit. It's easy, educational, and lots of fun! I learned more about rocks today than I had imagined, and I know my girls did, too. God made a beautiful world, and He deserves glory for these colorful, fantastic treasures.

Until next time!

On a Treadmill

This isn't about our cultural, fast-paced "treadmill;" today I was on an actual treadmill. I found myself alone in the little workout room, watching my girls play tennis through the window. It was peaceful being there by myself, without the tv in there blaring; all I could hear was my feet hitting the machine, and its electrical cranking noise. 

I decided that since I was alone, praying out loud was a good idea. A nice chat I was having with the Lord, when suddenly it came over me that yes, the Lord is here, in this workout room. I glanced at the treadmill beside mine, and was overcome with His presence, as if He were on it, exercising. I burst out laughing, thinking how Jesus would outrun me; He could turn the level to its highest and be light as a feather, not breaking a sweat, never getting tired. Not only did it overwhelm me, but it made me laugh. I imagined that treadmill zooming as fast as it would go, with Jesus on it, smiling and waving, because to His perfect body, it would be a cinch.

The things I was sharing with Him had been racing through my mind: a 24-year-old who is very sick and might not make it, strongholds to be broken, ungodly attitudes to confess, thanks for this special time, plus others that particularly burden me. I said, "Lord, what would you have me know right now?" and was hit again with the image of Him right beside me, running on air, while my 40-year-old body felt every movement my legs made. I burst out laughing, right out loud, and was comforted as with balm at the feeling that He, too, was laughing with me. 

What a moment it was! My Savior, my Friend, right there with me, the two of us laughing together. I realized that it was a picture of truth: Jesus never tiring, doing what no human can do, and it brought immense peace. Getting tickled like that, by something the Lord was showing me, was also something I don't think I've ever experienced. I can't describe how good it felt to be laughing with Him, as if He had shown me something special and funny, a joke between the two of us. Still, He was glorified.

Nothing feels better than a belly-shaking, crying laugh. It's a gift from God, and as one of my heroes of the faith, Barbara Johnson, says, humor is everywhere. Laughing at what's funny doesn't mean we try to cover a problem or wear a mask. To me, it's seeing things, noticing silly little signs or cartoons, and photographing them to share. It's looking at an old joke book and delighting in corny jokes that no one gets anymore. Innuendo or off-color "humor" isn't funny to me; it's against God's design to make dirty what He made beautiful. There's pure joy and beauty in simple, innocent humor.

Speaking of Humor...
I had to snap a shot of these yesterday:

They are plain hilarious, and believe me, they smell just like what they are (except Snow; what is that supposed to smell like?). Maybe I'm behind the times, but I didn't realize the hip thing was to pay hard-earned cash to smell like a mixed drink, or...dirt! I can't believe single guys would line up to spray this on themselves. It gave me a huge laugh, especially the way the little cosmetics room smelled after I "tried out" each one in the air! Pee-you!

Here's a furry friend who brings us joy:

Nibbles likes to burrow between my side and my arm when the girls and I sit on the sofa and read. Guinea pigs are wonderful pets, and smarter than I ever imagined a rodent would be. She knows our schedule, and begs on cue when I either open the fridge or chop any food. She responds to her name, and purrs when we pet her. Gifts from God come in all forms, and it's interesting to note that everything that breathes requires love and care. Nibbles is a keeper.

Beautiful Bits...

This gal pops by the feeder for a morsel every now and then:

Have you ever attempted to photograph a female cardinal? I've tried for months, and this is the best I've gotten. Any slight movement from me, even behind the glass, causes these gals to dart away. Female cardinals look nothing like their red counterparts, and are extremely skittish. She makes a mess at the feeder, jerking her head wildly, and taking off quickly. Birds are fascinating and lovely gifts from God.

A distant relative in Summerhill, PA, shares my interest in genealogy. She discovered that our great-great-great grandfathers, Daniel (hers) and Peter (mine) Burtnett, were brothers. I had a chance to visit Peter's grave when I visited Summerhill back in April:

Imagine a man dying on his own birthday! Imagine making contact with a lady who is the descendant of his brother! Genealogy is a gift. It brings blood together, binds severed ties, and provides thrilling stories to boot! Anyway, my relative, who works at the library in Summerhill, has been faithful in researching family records and sending me fascinating information and photos. 

Peter's son, W.K. Burtnett, was town supervisor in Summerhill for a number of years, and records abound. How wonderful to see facts in real life, written on pages over a hundred years ago, in breathtaking cursive. I loved seeing my great-great grandfather's signature:

To learn more about W.K. and other Burtnetts, please check out my other blog, Burtnett Family Stories, etc. The link is on the home page of this blog.

Finally, God places beautiful things everywhere just as a taste of heaven. In so many areas, we see Him at work, creating, growing, making things new. Maybe two months ago, I planted some small begonias. With rain falling every day lately, they seem to have doubled in size overnight:

For all our troubles and heartbreak, there is still joy and laughter to be found. In Job 8:21, we read, "He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy." If Job was promised this with all the tragedy he underwent, then surely it applies to all those who love the Lord. I love giving myself permission to go out and find things that are lovely or humorous, and to delight in them. It's fun and healing to thank God for them, and do something to remember them in some way: draw, photograph, or just close your eyes and record the memory in your mind. In doing this, not only do we glorify God and honor what He made wonderful, but we are able to share it with others, further glorifying Him and bringing encouragement and delight to those who need it. 

Until next time!