Healing a Sick Guinea Pig

Six-year-old Nibbles has always been an eater, ferociously devouring any piece of lettuce, fruit, or hay that lands in her cage. She begs by whistling at the sound of the refrigerator door opening. She's been labeled overweight by the vet. When she stopped pooping, the kids and I knew something was up.

We've been down this road before, and the prescription was watered-down canned pumpkin, which worked like a charm. It wasn't doing the trick this time, and Nibbles was getting bony. I noticed that she stopped drinking from her water bottle, and even eating. 

Did you know it's hard to find a vet that will see a guinea pig? I assumed when we got her that we could just show up at any old vet's office. However, guinea pigs and hamsters are considered "exotic" pets, and most veterinarians aren't experienced in treating them. Fortunately, I had found one who did know about guineas, and felt confident helping them to a point. 

He is a thorough, gentle, kind man, who took a lot of time with Nibbles. He started with her teeth, clipping them, as guinea pigs' teeth grow constantly, and must be worn down. Unfortunately, this didn't help, and by this time I was mashing up her hay pellets and mixing them with water to feed her from a syringe.  Guinea pigs must have hay, and when they refuse to eat, they have to be force fed, or will die. No pressure!  Dr. McKee also advised feeding her first-steps baby food, like green beans or sweet potatoes. 

Nibbles hated this. I'd wrap her up tightly in a towel, burrito style, put her against my knees, and feed her food out of one syringe, and water through another. I'd mix the pureed hay pellets and baby food, and do this four times a day. It became exhausting, and she continued to lose weight instead of improving. Dr. McKee sedated her and filed down her back teeth. I was hopeful, yet we continued with this tiring routine to no avail. After nine days, he referred us to a vet who knew more about complicated guinea pig issues. I was grateful for Dr. McKee and his staff, and that he had been able to rule out the basics.

Evidently, Dr. Bolt is famous in western North Carolina for his work with birds, and his knowledge about exotic pets. I had been unaware of this. In fact, I was fast realizing my ignorance about the intricate workings of guinea pigs, and the problems their teeth can create as they age. Who knew how complicated all of this was going to get?! The Sweeten Creek Animal and Bird Hospital was able to squeeze us in late last Friday, and I was at the end of my rope. I knew I had to do what I needed to do for poor Nibbles, but I was feeling cross-eyed. 

That Friday was cold, and a light snow was even falling when I arrived, tired yet hopeful, at this tiny, unassuming clinic. In the lobby, I overheard the receptionist talking to the owner of a bearded dragon who was dying. I saw a poster covering the intricate systems of "avian anatomy." It seemed this was indeed a hospital for sick animals of all kinds. 

Let me digress a minute to note that during this time, some people who found out about all I was doing to save Nibbles said things like, "You're doing all of this for a guinea pig?" I wondered, what else was I supposed to do? I know fully that humans, not animals, are created in God's image. Our culture seems to think that animals are super-human. I think it's ridiculous when I see "Dog Grandparent" bumper stickers on cars, yet I had no doubt that it was my duty to do all I could for our pet. "He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much," says God's Word in Luke 16:10. I had not felt led to do otherwise, so I would press on in helping this poor, helpless creature. The love of a pet is a gift from God, and I had never bonded with Nibbles as during our feeding times, when I'd rest her under my chin and we'd sit in companionable friendship. Also, my children are always looking to me to model an example of godly living. This just felt right.

Dr. Bolt did what he could do on a late Friday afternoon, which was to thoroughly examine Nibbles, pronounce that she was indeed thin and needed to gain weight, and decide that a full tooth evaluation was a good place to start. The down side was that this exam had to wait until Tuesday, but the up side was that he produced a bag of Critical Care, a powder when mixed with water, is designed to replenish what sick animals have lost. 

This was a weekend during which we happened to be participating in a tennis tournament in Charlotte, to which I transported Nibbles back and forth. She nestled into a towel in a pink basket, and was a big hit with all the junior players and adults. Every four hours, I'd whip out the critical care, mix it in a little bowl, wrap up the piggy burrito, and squeeze the elixir into her mouth. 

Are we having fun yet?

By the time Monday rolled around, with 13 days of this system, an out-of-town trip, plus the time springing forward, I was really tired and losing hope. I wondered if Nibbles would ever eat on her own again, or if she even remembered that her water bottle was there. My efforts to point her food and drink out to her were futile. Tuesday morning, I arrived early at the animal hospital, dropped Nibbles off, thanked God for the energy to do all we had been able to do so far, and pray for wisdom for Dr. Bolt.

When we went back that afternoon to retrieve her, the vet was full of information. It was hard to keep up, but thankfully my children listen to detail and catch things I miss. Nibbles had a broken tooth that Dr. Bolt had extracted, but as guinea pig teeth are always growing, it would grow back. His instructions were for me to continue with the Critical Care 2-3 times daily, making "the gruel," as he called it, as pasty as it could be and still get through the syringe. I was not to worry about water, as she seemed hydrated again. She needed .4cc of pain medication daily, and a dab of a probiotic gel once a day, to settle her stomach. All of this was a bit much for me to take in, considering we had another tournament coming up, this time four hours away. 

Would Nibbles ever eat on her own again, or was she going to have to be fed via syringe for the rest of her life? That was my main concern. Would she ever remember her water bottle, still in its location, faithfully refilled in hopes that she'd return to it? Would she ever seek out hay or other solids on her own? I confess I was doubtful.  All we could do on Tuesday after her procedure was let her rest, as she was pitifully groggy from sedation.

Wednesday morning, we set some cut up strawberry before her and waited in anticipation. She ate some, all by herself! The girls and I watched enchanted as she took it in her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Life's simple pleasures! Then, my daughter took a sizable hunk of lettuce and held it out. Nibbles inhaled it, and I couldn't believe how the big piece grew smaller and disappeared into the depths of her mouth, down the hatch! What hope! We continued to give her the critical care, and pray for her to soon return to her own water and her hay. 

This is the adorable mouth into which a syringe has been inserted regularly for over two weeks. She seems to know the drill!

Last night I was minding my own business typing something for my class on the computer, when I looked over at Nibbles in her cage. She was drinking from her water bottle! I called my husband, who came to view, and we hollered for the kids. After 15 straight days of ignoring all food and drink, Nibbles was on the mend! Our persistence and the help of two vets was paying off! 

Nibbles has rediscovered her water!

I went to bed last night with relief and fresh hope. This morning, I waited a while to see the latest developments. My husband had been out early, and reported that she had been drinking her water and....trying to eat her hay! I saw a glimmer of hope when I had been worried about dragging the poor gal to another tournament. With Nibbles attempting food on her own, I feel confident leaving her in the hands of her caregiver when we're out of town, our faithful friend, Burney. He sees to it that Nibbles is spoiled rotten when she goes to stay with him. She still requires Critical Care several times daily until her follow-up with Dr. Bolt next week, but it looks like Nibbles is officially on the mend. 

How grateful I am to God for pouring energy into me when I have no stores of my own. How glad I am for the lessons in perseverance, and for the companionship my children and I have shared with Nibbles and each other throughout this process. I'm glad to share this journey with readers who may end up in the same boat, whether with a guinea pig or any animal. Keep praying and asking God for wisdom. Love your furry friends. There are many ways to repair a wall!

Old Books for a New Year

Happy new year! How can it be 2020? I remember the "Downton Abbey" episode where the Dowager Countess exclaims, "1920! I feel as old as Methuselah!" I wonder what Granny and her counterparts would think of our world one hundred years later? That reminds me...this was my grandmother's 101st New Year's Day!

Well, technology may advance, but you know by now that old books only seem more endearing to me. My husband and I have a custom of eating downtown early on Saturday mornings at a 1950's-themed diner located in an old pharmacy. The walls are lined with glass medicine bottles once used there, and the soda jerks still wear bowties, with waitresses in poodle skirts. Sometimes  Frankie Avalon's "Venus" plays more than once on the jukebox while we're there! 

After breakfast, we often stroll a few doors down to the Hospice thrift store. The proprietors, a charming married couple, also have breakfast at Mike's, and we're all full and happy. Who wouldn't delight in a greasy omelet followed by the musty smell of old books, furniture, and bric-a-brac? It's a fact that I will almost always leave that store with something in my hand (yes, usually an old book). I'm crazy about two of my latest finds there:

This copy of 'Round the Year With the Poets by Martha Capps Oliver was printed in 1900. The inscription inside reads, 

To my dear 

Cousin Laura 

on her wedding-day. 

Alfred H. Stroh  

Nov. 30th

1900

Dear Cousin Laura must not have gone 'round too many years with the poets, because of the book's pristine condition! I have examined (almost to the point of insanity) the first name of the giver of this book. I'm pretty sure it says "Alfred," but there's a chance it's "Alford." I decided to look the name up. There's nothing for Alford, but evidently Alfred H. Stroh (1879-1922) was a Swedish Canadian who translated the works of one Emanuel Swedenborg. There is even a photo of Stroh, and his age would match nicely with the book, making him twenty-one at the time of his cousin's marriage. I have done more detective work on this book, the details having startled me, which will be revealed in a post in a few days. 

At any rate, this book is a compilation of nature poems, one for each day of the year. It includes the poetry of Longfellow, Shakespeare, Whittier, Kingsley, many female poets, and even some anonymous ones. I'm thrilled to start this new year (and decade!) by using this book in our homeschool. After our Bible reading, the girls and I will read each day's selection. We're actually doing school this week (with today off), so we spent Dec. 30 examining the Preface, and Dec. 31 reading a poem for January penned by the author. 

Look at those charming crinkle-edged pages! I believe Alfred would be delighted to know that his gift is being used almost 120 years later.

The second find contains three volumes in one book: Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther by Dr. H.A. Ironside. I spied the spine among junky books, and when I pulled it out, the cover told me instantly I had found a gem. Yes, I confess that I do often judge a book by its cover. These titles were published in 1913, 1914, and 1905, respectively; this actual printing is from 1976. 

I did a bit of research on Ironside, and his life is fascinating! He was born in 1876, a boy-preacher, starting his own Sunday school of one hundred children when he was ten years old. At age 12, he heard Dwight L. Moody preach, and in 8th grade he went to work as a cobbler and dedicated his life to Christ. By age 18, he had to slow down only some, as his 500-a-year preaching engagements became too taxing. He spent his life preaching, teaching, and writing.

In reading about him, I've decided that H.A. Ironside was once a household name, probably well-known to anybody who called himself a Christian, yet virtually unheard of today. It's sad how time's march can trample the memory of such a prolific writer and preacher. I'm grateful that God led me to his writings. Not by coincidence (because the Lord orchestrates everything perfectly), when I found this book, I had already been going a little through the book of Ezra with the help of my Table Talk magazine. I added Ironside to it, and was instantly convinced that I will be on the lookout for more of his works. He tells the Word like it is, takes God's promises for what they are, and doesn't suffer fools. His intolerance for irreverence isn't at all legalistic, but the way all Christians--modern or a hundred years ago, as God's Word stays the same--should view it. I have enjoyed being under the rich tutelage of Ironside, and see him as a trusted mentor. 

Coming Soon: The treasure I found because of Martha Capps Oliver and Alfred H. Stroh...

2019 Book List

Merry Christmas and happy new year! It's hard to believe another year of reading has come and gone. I remain amazed that so many books can be completed over the course of a year, just by ingesting small bits at a time. I accepted this challenge some years ago when I heard other ladies talk about reading little by little, and chronicling the titles for that year. People tell me they enjoy this yearly book list, and it makes me happy to share the joy of reading with others. Let me remind you that as much as I love to read, I actually don't spend the majority of my day doing it. This continues to be proof that slow and steady wins the race.

This list is of books I've completed in 2019, not including the Bible, chapters of Charlotte Mason's series, articles from Karen Andreola's fantastic issues of The Parents' Review, and a magazine I greatly enjoy but have little time to read, Table Talk. I hope you will find some of the titles and descriptions intriguing. Starred titles are ones that my children and I read together.

2019 Book List

A New Song by Jan Karon (1997). Yes, it’s another Mitford series book…only it doesn’t take place in Mitford! I wondered how the author could have the audacity, until I became wrapped up in Father Tim’s interim job as priest at St. John’s, off the NC coast. The Mitford crew isn’t altogether abandoned, and I was surprised to become endeared to the gang in Whitecap so quickly. It seems that delight is found wherever Father Tim and Cynthia go…how could there have been any doubt?!

God is in the Manger by Dietrich Bonhoeffer (compiled 2010). I look forward to reading this book every day, starting at the beginning of Advent, and ending on Epiphany, Jan. 6. It’s a joy to set aside a few quiet moments each day during this time to read Bonhoeffer’s ideas on Scripture, put with excerpts of his letters and sermons. 

The Masterpiece by Francine Rivers (2018). Just when I think this author can’t get any better, she does it again! When Grace Moore becomes private assistant to reckless, moody artist Roman Velasco, they never imagine having anything in common. Slowly, both come to realize God’s redemption in healing two painful, broken pasts. 

The Radium Girls by Kate Moore (2017). In a word…WOW!! This is the powerful story of women who painted clock dials with radium in two different factories during and after WWI, and the horrific suffering they incurred as a result of poisoning. Told from the points of view of the women, this book reads like a riveting biography, not as a scientific book of research.

Emotionally Healthy Spirituality by Peter Scazzero (2006). I love Pastor Pete’s vulnerability about the religion he had versus a mature relationship with Christ. Through real life examples from his own experience, he encourages readers to pursue spiritual maturity. While an easy read, this is a hard call to deep change. 

The Soul of Shame by Curt Thompson, MD (2015). This book is an excellent complement to Scazzero’s book, with a focus on shame. I have never heard shame examined so deeply. Thompson gives neurobiological explanations behind what happens to our brains in dealing with shame, but primarily focuses on what shame is, and gives readers confidence to begin healing from it. This book isn’t for those who can recall traumatic events, but rather for everyone, as shame builds from the slow, daily things that we often ignore or don’t realize. This is one of the most powerful, narrow-road, life-changing books I’ve ever read.

Hissing Cousins by Marc Peyser and Timothy Dwyer (2015). The title is continued as The Untold Story of Eleanor Roosevelt and Alice Roosevelt Longworth. I saw this in the library and it caught my attention. These women were first cousins, brought up very closely, yet complete opposites in personality and politics. I found myself irritated with both for many reasons, yet enjoyed learning about them. I would recommend this as an interesting look into the sad, dysfunctional details of the Roosevelt family.

*Leave it to Beaver by Beverly Cleary (1960). This book is based on the old TV show, which has always been one of my favorites, and now my children and I enjoy watching episodes together. We love the hilarious scrapes that Beaver and Wally get into, and the funny, old expressions they use. I found this and another similar Beaver book online several years ago, and was surprised that Cleary had written them. Reading a chapter of this book aloud together before bedtime is a nice way to end the day. 

Beverly Cleary: A Girl From Yamhill by Beverly Cleary (1988). What a captivating autobiography this beloved author has presented! Many events of her childhood mirror situations that happen to her well-known characters of Ramona, Ellen Tebbits, and Henry Huggins. There are many scary, unfortunate parts of her childhood that Cleary also describes. The book only covers her life until age 18, and the end is abrupt; thankfully there is a sequel!

*Carry a Big Stick by George Grant (1996). This biography of Theodore Roosevelt is part of the Ambleside Online Year 5. Its rich vocabulary and description proved to be a challenge not only to my children, but also to me! What a fascinating man TR was, with his love of nature, the books he wrote, his full family life, his friendships, and of course, his life in politics. I especially enjoyed reading about the letters he wrote and journal entries, and how well-read he was. 

*George Washington Carver: Man’s Slave Becomes God’s Scientist by David Collins (1981). This book from the Sower’s Series is a rich, easy read. What an inspiring life Carver led as a learner and lover of God and nature! This living book is an ideal way to teach science and history.

*Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare. What a shame that our schools and society create the idea that Shakespeare is to be dreaded, or is somehow too hard to understand! I read this play in high school and made a 61 on the test. This time around, reading for pleasure’s sake with my children in the safety of our own school, I actually understood and enjoyed it. I’m grateful that my children (who are four and five years younger than I was when I failed the multiple choice test) had a different experience than my first; theirs included small portions of reading, with narration and ideas. This play wasn’t something to “get through” quickly and pass a test, but rather a work to spend almost a whole school year reading and pondering, getting to know the characters and their plights. 

*King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table edited by Sidney Lanier (1950). We read the stunning edition from the Illustrated Junior Library over the course of an entire school year. There’s no way to pore over this challenging volume except slowly and deliberately. I was surprised to love this book, with its knights, jousting, damsels in distress, forest hideaways, royalty, swooning, hermits that provide shelter, and dwarfs that give aid. How many people have heard of this tale, yet have never actually read it from beginning to end? I recommend an edition in medieval-sounding English, which is part and parcel to the story. 

Papa’s Wife by Thyra Ferre Bjorn (1955). I love the books about Mama and Papa, but started reading them out of order. In this first book, we meet Pastor Franzon as he and his wife, Maria, meet, marry, and later leave Sweden for America with their children. The reader can’t help but be captivated by the family’s charming antics, and the descriptions of Swedish customs and foods.

What Your Childhood Memories Say About You by Kevin Leman (2007). This is an okay book for someone just starting an emotional healing journey, but those farther down the road may require something deeper. The author spends a lot of time endearing himself to his reader. I wanted more depth and fewer stories about the author. He does a decent job of pointing out the basics of beginning healing, but could’ve used fewer words.

Bob Newhart by Jeff Sorensen (1988). It’s strange for someone my age to have an interest in a guy like Bob Newhart, but I’ve always liked his 1980’s comedy, “Newhart.” As adults, my husband and I enjoy the reruns and appreciate Newhart’s dry wit. When I grabbed this book at a sale, my friend remarked that I was probably the only one who’d picked it up the whole time. She might be right, but others are missing out. Bob Newhart  has led an interesting life and career, and the author does a good job of describing the highlights.

Mother Culture for a Happy Homeschool by Karen Andreola (2018). My friend Karen has done it again: Here’s another soothing, uplifting, meaty read for homeschooling moms who don’t want to be bound to the status quo. To say that I love anything she writes is no exaggeration. This book, like her others, provides refreshing guidance and doable, simple ways to create freedom in homeschooling and “mother culture.” I will enjoy going back to this volume again and again. Thanks, Karen!

A Common Life by Jan Karon (2001). There’s always comfort in a Mitford book. This one is about the wedding of Father Tim and Cynthia, and how they and all of Mitford feel about the big event. As with anything in this series, my heart is warmed, and I don’t want it to end.

Village School by Miss Read (Dora Jessie Saint) (1955). I learned about Miss Read’s Fairacre series from Karen Andreola’s Mother Culture, and when I saw that Jan Karon recommended it, I knew it would be good. I admit it took me a couple of chapters to get into it, but as I kept on, I grew endeared to Miss Read, her pupils, and the people of Fairacre in England. This book has the warmth, coziness, quirky characters, and descriptive language that Mitford lovers enjoy. I can’t wait to read the next one, and Miss Read has a long list of titles waiting!

The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith (1998). How glad I am that a dear friend told me about Mma Ramotswe, Botswana’s only lady detective! Not only are her capers captivating, but so are the customs of southern Africa. The author mixes heartbreaking details of Mma’s past with interesting tales of her current life, making this a fast, exciting read.

The Burden is Light! by Eugenia Price (1954). This vintage volume was spotted at a book sale, and my interest was piqued from the beginning by the first sentence: “I was born once and thirty-three years later I was born a second time.” Every follower of Christ will appreciate Genie’s story of how she came to know Him personally. I love the old-time descriptions, and the fact that she was from my dad’s hometown of Charleston, WV. 

Tears of the Giraffe by Alexander McCall Smith (2000). The second book about Mma Ramotswe and her detective agency is as enchanting as the first. Her cases keep the reader interested, as well as twists in her personal life. The orphan children and Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni are especially endearing. 

12 Ways Your Phone is Changing You by Tony Reinke (2017). The author has done extensive research on the effects that the smartphone has on our lives. He writes from a Christian perspective, giving practical insights about the overuse of our phones, and suggestions for better stewardship. The tone is understanding, not preachy, as Reinke himself admits to seasons of phone addiction. This is an easy read that applies to everyone, regardless of smartphone use patterns.

Lady Almina and the Real Downton Abbey by The Countess of Carnarvon (2011). This book written by the current Lady Carnarvon describes in fascinating detail the time when the 5th Earl and his wife Almina lived at Highclere Castle. Although the series “Downton Abbey” is based on this place and family, there are many differences. I enjoyed the historical events of the time period, especially Almina’s work in running a hospital in the castle during WWI.  

A Tree for Peter by Kate Seredy (1941). Utterly charming with twists of sad and sweet, this little book is full of warmth and joy. It is the story of little Peter and how he overcomes the fear and darkness that enshroud the shantytown where he lives. Ideal for older elementary/middle school students, but a treasure for adults, too!

Don't forget The Cloud of Witness, lovingly republished by Nancy Kelly in 2015. I love this volume, but just didn't get to it as much this year as I would've liked. I've been more intentional as the year draws to a close, as this sweet book brings such richness in poetry and verses. If you want to get into poetry but aren't sure where to start, this provides a good daily dose. 

Finally, I was grateful to receive several books for Christmas, but found two especially charming. Chiquito y Cola Rizada is second in the Children of the Americas series, published in 1957. It's more than a textbook, putting Spanish words into simple yet rich phrases and dialogues that are meaningful and get beyond elementary Spanish. This series is ideal for teaching my children as well as the students in my homeschool group class. 

And would you believe that this lovable book of West Virginia Stories and Biographies was tucked into my Christmas stocking? My husband has adopted the custom every Christmas of going to the same antique mall and hunting for at least two old books for me. This WV book was published in 1937 for use in that state's schools, and would lend itself wonderfully to narration. I've read some of it by the dim light of my bed at night; who knew there were once herds upon herds of buffalo in West Virginia? Also in my stocking was a small blue leather Ivanhoe, which the girls and I may read next school year. 

Happy new year (and much happy reading!) to you!

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

Coming Down From Chaos

When you've had a succession of busy days or months (or years), do you feel the need to "come down" from the chaos? I certainly do! The things filling up this time might all be good, but even so, they leave me breathless and desperate for a rest. God made our bodies to need rest, and He demonstrated this by resting after creating the universe. Jesus confirmed that the Sabbath was made for our rest. But, boy...it can be hard to stop!

The funny thing is, it can take me a while to rest, even on rest days! I find myself finding it hard to settle down all morning, and not really "resting" until two or three in the afternoon! In his book Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, Peter Scazzerro addresses this in detail. He speaks to the fact that although it's counterculture these days to stop and rest (he even calls it "doing nothing"), God's design for us never changes. We're left tired because we go, go, go. 

Isn't this little spread lovely? Several weary women flopped down at this outdoor table one Thursday evening some weeks ago. We chatted, laughed, shared stories, threw in some talk about Charlotte Mason's methods, and enjoyed each others' company. What refreshment!

Back to the busyness. The past few months have consisted of us deciding to downsize, getting rid of stuff (where did all of that come from??), launching into a whirlwind adventure of a fast house sale and buying one half its size, having a charming three-week respite at Ravenswood (see past post), then moving to our sweet tucked-away, over-fifty-year-old "new" house. 

Somehow we started back with school, then the month of May brought three tennis tournaments, two of which are big, special, out-of-town ones. As much as our family enjoys the sport and our daughters love to play, we are intentional about participating just once or twice a month. However, May is always the busy tennis month, and this year proved challenging because of our tiredness from the move. This is what prompted me to reevaluate the Sabbath, making sure that we are intentional about keeping days of rest. Per Scazzero's encouragement, I also like to take mini-moments of rest throughout the day. I've been known to drop my cares outside:

Poetry is something I'm also learning to love. Homeschooling has done that for me; my own experience in school caused me to dread poetry, as I was forced to write it while uninspired, or pick it apart for something my teacher was looking for. How refreshing it is to experience it for poetry's sake, to use it for cursive practice, and for our enjoyment of something beautiful:

May also brought several end-of-year activities, which meant planning and preparing. I felt sometimes like I was drowning in a fog, thinking about school, laundry, menu planning, cleaning, and when to practice for all those tournaments. These things that I love on a regular basis started to suffocate me. The devil loves to do this to us, take things in which we normally delight, and cause them to create havoc in our lives. I daily had to step back and breathe. Normally, we don't live activity to activity, in a state of chaos. No wonder people these days are frazzled, with no time. I had to purposely get lost in the roses: 

I said yes to my mom's invitations to the lake, even when there was housework and other stuff to do. 

Who wouldn't be invigorated after an afternoon at this place? There's no question that the hot South Carolina sun, the wind whipping my face and hair on a boat ride, and Jim's hot dogs followed by the ever-expected ice cream sandwich, all contribute to putting my brain back in order. 

One of our tournaments was in Greensboro. We found a cottage from 1900 in Winston-Salem, and stayed there for the weekend. The neighborhood is being revitalized, and houses over a century old are coming back to life: 

On the Saturday morning of our stay, I relished some moments on the front porch, praying and reading Scripture, enjoying the view of an old street, gazing at the big, red house across on the corner, and examining a blue jay who became my momentary companion.

During this time of unusual busyness, my dad developed an infection that landed him unexpectedly in surgery and in a long recovery, where he still is. Another thing continuously looming about in my mind is church. As our move put us over 40 minutes from our church home, we've been searching closer to where we live. I've long desired for church and community to be in the same place, and the search for a church home is neither easy nor a quick process. We've been surprised by the idea of home church, and are exploring this with great care and lots of prayer. 

Alongside all the activity and mind exercise, I've suffered physical anxiety and been very near to panic. People respond to stress in different ways. My stomach takes a beating, and in extreme times, I launch into a fog, losing focus, feeling short of breath and almost like an elephant is standing on my chest. There has been lots of prayer, and lots of stopping to regain focus. 

Thankfully during this time, my daughter made homemade monkey bread! 

When we were putting our house on the market, I had a few moments of tears as I sat in my cherished "red room." This room is where I started my days, at my grandmother's old secretary desk, after prayer in a yellow chair I bought some years ago at an antique store. I couldn't bear the thought of giving up my red room, and prayed for a new spot, one that I'd enjoy just as much.

This photo of my grandmother's living room was taken sometime in the 1970's: 

I remember when this furniture was reupholstered. It was around 1984, because I was about eight years old. I went into the house, and the room was empty. When I inquired about the furniture's whereabouts, my joking Papi said that some man had come by and said it was his, and had taken it. I knew better.

This furniture was acquired by my great uncle, Narcy Quintero, in New Jersey. Evidently, a friendly neighbor old lady left it to him, and she had gotten it from England. He offered it to my grandmother, who had to pay a whopping $25 to have it shipped to South Carolina. And the rest is history.

That furniture (still covered in the upholstery from '84) now sits in my new special place, the room that is the answer to my prayers:

 ...and I still spend my quiet times at the secretary: 

It's among these things that I'll be taking some good, long rests for the rest of this week. The final trip for a while was a four-day stint in Cary, the home of an incredible tennis facility where my daughter played in a southern level junior tournament. She kept winning, so we kept staying! I love the buzz of excitement at these events, the friendships made between girls and their parents, and the fellowship of seeing these friends, especially those we've gotten to know from all over our state of North Carolina. The competition was fantastic, and the time spent with my girls was wonderful. The highlight of the trip was watching my daughter play on a stadium court, with its own chair umpire calling the score! 

But now we're home, and are purposefully taking the next few days off from much of anything. I think I'll need several days to "come down" from it all!

Until next time...