A New Name and Look!

Greetings! This is the same blog you're used to, only with a new name! "Repaired Wall" is the name of our homeschool, as well as a way of life. Like He used Nehemiah to tear down and rebuild walls, God uses us to do the same thing in our lives. I hope we will continue to spur each other on as we seek His help in doing that.

This summer has brought joy and sorrow. I took a walk alone one day, and stopped to stare at two rabbits:

I received a loving gift from my friend Joy, an entire mandarin orange cake just for me. It tastes like a creamsicle, and is juicy like a fruit drink! 

 It's my custom to freeze cake. Whenever I'm left with almost a whole cake, I cut it in generous slices, and wrap each one individually in foil. Then I place these pieces in a big Ziploc bag labeled with whatever flavor the cake is. When I have a guest or just feel like a treat, it's easy to pop out a piece or two, leave it on the counter a few moments to thaw, then microwave it if it's still too cold. You'll never waste cake again!

Precious Daisy was our doggie friend whose owner, Dottie, works at the racquet club. Daisy was faithfully there for the years we've been going for tennis. Sadly, an accident occurred in the parking lot last month, and Daisy did not survive. We were heartbroken, and cried along with Dottie. God gave us animals as wonderful companions. Just the day before the accident, I had been able to enjoy extra-special time sitting with Daisy, patting and talking to her. Everyone at the club misses her terribly. 

On a lighter note, but still on the tennis topic, would you believe that one of our favorite courts on which to practice is situated right beside a field of cows? That's what you get in western North Carolina. Don't mistake a score-call for a moo! 

I was actually standing on a court when I shot this photo. My children will surely remember growing up playing tennis next to cows! It's a charming scene that also includes a playground, library, and town hall.

I surprised myself all school year by liking King Arthur as much as I did. This edition by Sidney Lanier is written in very hard-to-understand English, yet understand it, we did. All I did was read it aloud, and my children and I were able to figure out the meaning, even if we couldn't have come up with that fancy language ourselves. This volume of knights, damsels, dwarfs, jousts, castles, hermits, horses, and weapons is truly a treasure. We spent an entire school year reading it. Incidentally, I've found the same to be true when reading works we perceive to be "difficult," like Plutarch's Lives or Shakespeare. Just read, and glean what you can take away. You'll be surprised how much your children (and you!) take away!

When my dad was still in restorative care early this month healing slowly from surgery, he noticed that his sister sounded weak and tired over the phone. She had battled cancer since the early 2000's, but always seemed to move forward and bounce back from treatments. Never did she complain, always looking on the bright side, and lately, she did a lot of traveling. It was surprising when she took a sudden turn for the worse, and shortly after her doctor said there was nothing more to be done, hospice was called. This happened in a matter of days. 

Aunt Susan never lived close, but she never seemed far away. She was a star on Opryland's early stage, and later in charge of the park's entertainment. Several years after it closed, she made a fresh start at Disneyland in California. How we treasure the sweet trinkets she sent over the years from there! I look around my house and see many reminders of her. I wear the cute apron she sewed for me this past Christmas. God made Aunt Susan special; she slipped out of her pain on July 10, and we can't believe it. You never want a loved one to suffer, yet death can come so suddenly. May we all be ready to run into Christ's arms! 

Here was my view when I spoke to Laura, Aunt Susan's daughter, the morning of her passing: 

It was around 6:20am Eastern time, so you can figure it was dark and early for where Laura was in California. We've only lived in this house four months, but already this has become my place. This is what I see from my porch bench. Here, I sit and listen to squirrels rustling through leaves, birds twittering in the trees, and the breeze swaying the limbs. I watch those ferns dance back and forth. I laugh and cry, talk out loud to God, write pages in my journal, make hard phone calls, ask friends for intercession over texts, savor coffee, close my eyes, ponder God's Word...all at this vantage point, on the bench my kind step-father Jim restored for me. Since that sad, early morning, I always think of Aunt Susan when I go out there. A bird cried out in glorious song, and Laura could hear it over the phone. She said it sounded like her mom.

I was so glad for the company of dear friends that night. Liz and Burney are some of the most gracious, easygoing people I know. We love to have them over for dinner and Trivial Pursuit, men versus women, with our girls helping both sides. Our games last so long, we end up not finishing. Burney roasts his own beans and supplies the after-dinner coffee. That evening, he brought an extra treat: 

These are little potatoes from his garden, even the purplish things. He made purple mashed potatoes! They were delicious! I'd never had that before. How intriguing to dish out a heaping mound of what looks like blueberry fluff, only to find that it's mashed potatoes! Liz and Burney know something about everything, and are full of surprises. They cheered me up that night.

A few days later, I went to see my dad, who is finally at home after six weeks, but still confined to a wound-vac. This is a machine that helps heal an infection from the inside out. I stopped to see my almost-one hundred year-old grandmother, who remains independent. I still love going to her house. Talk about memories all over the place! 

Look at this kitchen! 

Don't you just love it?

One thing my grandmother likes to do for my children is give them cash. Here she is, writing their names on envelopes where she had stashed the dinero: 

Isn't she something? Is this house cool, or what?

And I have to show you one more thing that goes with the house: 

 Isn't this the cutest little old doghouse? 

I was feeling so nostalgic, I just had to catch a glimpse of my old school, St. Paul's Catholic. I have fabulous memories of this place. 

We had an African-American janitor there named Ernest, and his mother also worked with him. They were quiet and kind. The Catholic Bishop of the Diocese at that time was also named Ernest. When we had mass and the priest routinely prayed for "Ernest our Bishop and all the clergy," my friend Jennie and I couldn't quite figure out why he devoted special prayer specifically for Ernest the janitor, but didn't name any other teachers or staff, or at least the principal. We decided that "Bishop" was a fancy word for janitor, and that "all the clergy" must include his mom and others who worked at the school. For anyone who loves Beverly Cleary's Ramona, you recall a similar mixup that she had. "Oh, say can you see, by the dawnzer lee light," she sang every morning. A dawnzer surely must be a lamp; it gives a lee light. 

And finally, this place is on the other side of the school, on Dean Street in Spartanburg: 

It's old and beautiful, and when I was a kid, I dreamed I lived in it. I imagined walking from school right home, changing out of my uniform, and watching cartoons, eating junk food. I just had to include this captivating old place.

Until next time!

We love you Aunt Susan!

Susan Luers Burtnett Bablove

1952-2019

Sights & Traditions of Christmas

The familiar, cozy sights of Christmas are warm and comforting. Here are some I want to remember from this year: 

These were Abue's angels. I have nice memories of them at her house, and love seeing them every year now at my own. My girls say I'm the one in the middle, and they're the ones on either side.

Here is a powerful excerpt from Bonhoeffer's God is in the Manger: 

This was our church's Advent book last year. Since I like tradition and familiar things, I decided it would be my Advent book each year. Because Advent started late this year (Dec. 3), I ended up missing a week in this book and The Cloud of Witness. From now on, I will begin both books the Sunday after Thanksgiving every year, regardless of the official "start" of Advent. 

These were creations the girls made at the party with their American Heritage Girls friends: 

(Front and back)

I covered the plates with plastic wrap, and we enjoyed looking at them throughout the Christmas season.

One of my girls has a birthday one week before Jesus's, so we always have non-Christmas sweets for her special day: 

These had chocolate chips and Andes mint chips baked in!

Baking is a big event during this season. It's easy to get overwhelmed with sweets. Next year I believe we should start baking earlier. We waited until Dec. 19 to make treats for friends and family, and ended up with some for us, too. The closer to Christmas Day it is, the more sweets seem to accumulate. Why not bake around Dec. 10 and stagger the desserts? This would also enable earlier distribution to neighbors.

A note I made to myself last year was to set aside an entire afternoon or day for baking. It's terrible to cram such a joyful activity in with other things and feel rushed. I was thankful we planned lots of time for the gingerbread, my girls' favorite Christmas project. Their designs are more elaborate every year! 

We always use the same recipe, same vintage tablecloth, same cookie cutters...and listen to our "Wonderful Christmastime" station while working. As I said, there's nothing like the comfort of traditions, and I delight in the memories my girls and I are making.

A slight break from food, back to the real meaning of Christmas...Here is my favorite decoration of all time: 

This is another of Abue's former things. When I was a child, it moved to my house, and then my mom graciously gave it to me. My girls now cherish and delight in this manger scene. Abue tells me every year that she bought it in 1966 for $6. I keep it in its original sturdy cardboard box. We had to replace the old newspapers (from the 1960's) that cushion the figures, but even the straw is original to the set. The one thing that hasn't survived are the plastic trees. They lasted until about two years ago, and finally crumbled. The star is shabby, but still holding on. This set is one of my most special treasures.

Here is another treasure from a grandmother: 

Jeremy's Granny Beulah had this ceramic tree out every Christmas, and later, kept it in her room when she moved in with my in-laws. What a privilege to have it in our home now, and carry on the tradition! It reminds us of her, too.

We put up two artificial trees in our home each year:

The tree on the left is our big one in the den. It has three light settings: white, colored, and both flashing. We prefer the colored lights, since for years, all we saw were white. We keep presents for the girls under this tree. The smaller tree rests nicely in the dining room by the window. I've had to re-string it over and over, but it's a sweet little tree under which all other gifts go. We remove its ornaments after Christmas, but I carry it down to the basement and leave the tree standing as it is, lights strung, until I get to carry it back up next year.

Back to the dainties, and other fun things: 

A blessing from our friend and his cappuccino maker

An afternoon of homemade peppermint patties, and anything else we could find to dip into chocolate (pretzels and spoonfuls of peanut butter)

Mimi's pork crown roast...

...and ice cream roll! 

Brick always brings us joy!

Speaking of animals and joy....

What do you think of Liz's gifts to Nibbles? The poor guinea was a good sport, and the girls were overjoyed! 

A new rodent was under the tree: 

Meet Sidney the hamster, named for the Pens #87!

We are officially rodent experts. The difference between a guinea pig and hamster is tremendous, although both are cute and lovable.

My hubby knows that for me, nothing is more exciting than unwrapping old books: 

I spotted these at the antiques mall, and knew what I wanted for Christmas. He navigated his way through, found them, and put them wrapped up under our den tree! Jean Ingelow's poems are throughout The Cloud of Witness, and I couldn't resist this beautiful book, especially since my girls and I study a poet per twelve-week school term. The McKinley book was written in 1901, right after his assassination, and is full of striking photos and information. I even discovered a folded-up church devotional guide from 1903 in the pages!

We ended Christmas with two more favorites: 

Deep fried duck...

...and sweet potato soufflé loaded with spices and gooey marshmallows!

Merry Christmas!!!!

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!

Molly's Gifts

My seven-year-old decided that she wanted to take money out of her piggy bank and buy gifts for family members. It started in Aldi when she saw a pillow and said it looked like something good for Nana. I was touched by her innocence in having no idea how much the item cost, nor caring. I'm too cheap to buy a fuzzy decorative pillow for $15!

She proceeded to name other things she would buy for the family if she had her money. "Pop needs those tools," she decided. Again, my eyes went straight to the tag: $19.99! Not that others aren't worthy, but all I could think of was my little girl giving up her own money when she didn't have to. My mind was on selfishness and protecting her, while Molly's was on selflessness.

Today we went out again, and she made her purchases. I couldn't believe how deliberate such a youngster could be about looking over everything, and making such careful decisions. She selected several purchases, paid out of her pink wallet, and proudly carried the plastic bag on the ride home. She even noted aloud that the amount that she had spent "wasn't that much." Color me convicted.

Molly took it upon herself to wrap her gifts, tie the bows, and even write the names on the tags. I watched and silently thanked God. A short while later, after all was finished and placed under the tree, the Spirit gave me a greater nudge: I can learn a lesson from this little one.

"Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven," Jesus said in Matthew 19:14. Here my daughter was content to share what she had, and I had tried to talk her out of it. Gulp. This is what my broken and contrite heart looks like in real life: seeing my stinginess for what it is, and worse, that I don't always give joyfully this time of year, but more as a "have to."

Molly's gifts

Christ said that children show us His kingdom, and as usual, He was right. The Lord loves a cheerful giver, and I pray to become more of one. Not only can I be frugal with my resources, but I often am with my time as well, finding it hard to devote all of myself to someone in need at a particular moment. I tend to get overwhelmed easily, and this is a matter of daily prayer. 

Another truth that God lovingly put before me through my little one is that we must allow people to be a blessing to us, and use the gifts He has given us to bless others. If Molly seeks to minister to family members and show her love through giving gifts, then woe to me if I should try to stop her! The "Protector" in me feared that others might not appreciate the gifts, but that's the devil talking. As her mother, my role in this is to give guidance about proper items to purchase, as well as reasonable amounts to spend. Other than that, I'm ecstatic that the Lord prompted me to back off.

We have a group that gathers at our home every Wednesday evening for Bible study and a meal. One of our faithful attendees, Burney, roasts his own coffee. Every week, he loyally brings his supplies and provides us with steaming cups of home-roasted and freshly brewed coffee. If Burney can't make it one week, not only do we miss his presence, but his ministry of loving us through coffee. None of us would dream of taking Burney's ministry to us away from him; plus, we delight in the coffee!

The Lord is showing me that for Molly, this situation is similar. She had joy in selecting and purchasing those gifts on her own, in addition to making them look nice with the paper. Her childlike eyes saw past what she was giving up to what others were receiving, and the Lord put the sensation of satisfaction in her. Thank You, thank You, my Father, for teaching me more about your majesty through a little child!

Not only that...this same Father gave us the gift of His own Son, knowing that many of us wouldn't appreciate it, either. It was the heftiest price tag in history, but He did it for me. He understands about giving gifts, since he gave the greatest One; because of this, I know He sees Molly and delights in her gift-giving. I also know He sees my shortcomings and reminds me I'm not hopeless; the blood of His Gift washed my sins, and enables me to repent. 

Thank You, Lord, for this real-life lesson in "sorrowful, yet rejoicing." That's how I feel at this moment. Sometimes I think self-awareness and sanctification are going to kill me. May I never forget the feeling, yet may You enable my heart to bear it. "God loves a cheerful giver" (2 Corinthians 9:7). May You transform my heart so I can fit that description.