A Blow to My Confidence

I have been canning since I was about 12. At first it was applesauce, peaches and pears. Then we moved and Mom planted a big garden. Then it was beans, beets, corn, and tomatoes.

When The Man About the Place and I moved to our house, we planted a garden. That was 12 years ago. And every year we've canned. Just like I was taught, just like I've always done.

This past Friday, The Man pulled all the beets. Two five-gallon buckets and half of another one full of beautiful beets. Two were as big as softballs.

Saturday morning I began the process. Wash the beets, boil for about 15-25 minutes, plunge into cold water, slip off the skins, dice, fill clean quart jar, add 1 teaspoon salt, cover with water, put on lid and ring. When there are 7 full jars, place in pressure canner, and process for 35 minutes. Remove from canner (once the pressure has dropped) and wait for the "sound" (the lid sealing).

First canner full came out just fine. Second canner full - in three of the seven jars, the beets turned a disgusting shade of poop brown. Interesting, I thought. Last canner full - all seven of the jars turned a disgusting shade of poop brown.

At this point, I began to question my canning ability. This had never happened before. I did everything just like I've done for years. Why this, why now? This doesn't bode well for the rest of the canning season.

I looked on the internet, talked to my canning sister, emailed my brother in China and none of them had any ideas why this would happen. The only thing I could figure out was that there was some kind of reaction between the beets and "something." What that something is, I have no idea.

My brave Man of the Place opened a jar, tasted them and said that they tasted different, not bad, just different. He said the texture was different too.

Yesterday, he opened all the other jars and dumped them in the composter. I couldn't bring myself to save them. My stomach turned just looking at them. Half of my hard work, rotting in the garden.

My canning confidence has taken a blow. I hope the rest of the season is not like this or we'll be hungry this winter.

The blessing of chaos

Tomorrow, in the morning, I will begin a task which I absolutely despise. I will be getting out the summer clothes and putting away all the winter clothes for my five darling princesses. I despise this job for a couple of reasons. First of all, before it can all be put away, it must be gotten out. The getting out involves carrying down many boxes and plastic bins full of clothes from the attic. The getting out creates major clutter and chaos. I can't think when there's clutter and chaos. It discourages me and I don't feel like doing anything to make it go away (until I just can't stand it anymore and then go on a rampage to clean it up). Secondly, I usually have to do this job by myself, along with everything else I normally have to do. It takes such a long time (more than a week sometimes) to have the princesses try things on, decide if it fits or not, decide if it needs to be gotten rid of, and sort all the winter clothes into sizes and put them in the appropriately marked bin or box. Thirdly, even though my house looks large (and it is), the bedroom where this event will take place is small. I tend to be a little claustrophobic, so small bedroom + piles of clothes everywhere = me feeling a little frenetic.

I have been feeling a little convicted about this "bad attitude" of mine concerning this job. Two things should help to change that attitude. One, my dear mother-in-love is coming to help me. She did this once before and it went so quickly. The major part of the task was finished in a day. The second is this: I didn't buy any of these clothes. I have dear friends in the neighborhood, friends at church, and family members who give me bags of clothes for my children. Most of these clothes have been worn by one, maybe two, kids so they're in great shape. I could not afford to buy clothes like these for my girls. I'm talking everything from winter boots, coats, dress shoes, sneakers, sandals, bathing suits, socks, shirts, pants, sweaters, shorts, dresses . . . the list could go on.

God has so abundantly blessed our family in this way that I sometimes wonder how I would dare to complain that I have to do this job. Seems like I need a major attitude adjustment, especially when there are so many others around the world who only have one set of clothing. So, this spring, as I pull out the summer clothes and fold and put winter ones away, I'm going to work on my attitude. I'm going to look at this task as an opportunity for worship. I'm going to thank God for His faithfulness in providing for all of our needs. I'm going to thank Him for the dear friends and family who bless me in this way. I'm going to ask Him to pour out blessings a hundred fold on those dear people for their generosity to me. I'm going to thank Him that my dear mother-in-love was willing to come help me. I'm going to thank Him for the five beautiful, healthy girls that wear these clothes. I'm going to have a great time visiting with my mother-in-love.

Could it be that tomorrow's dreaded task will turn into a joyful one? Probably will, but only if I choose to let it. I think tomorrow might just be a great day.

An Ordinary Day

May 12, 2010

Woke up at 6:30 a.m. because that's when Caroline woke up. Discovered there was no hot cereal for breakfast, so on to plan B. Had two eggs, enough to make pancakes. Cleaned up the kitchen and started the kitchen rugs in the washer. Taught Laura the three ways to make the "e" sound and why it's not a good idea to use people's feet to measure things. Did reading with Emma and taught her that odd+odd=even, even+even=odd, and odd+even=odd. Taught Katharine and Rebecca more about the Pythagorean formula. Made sure everyone had showers before lunchtime. Made turkey and cheese sandwiches for lunch. Laid down with Caroline for a nap at 12:10 p.m. Fell asleep and napped until about 3:00 p.m. Got up and checked e-mail and other things on the computer. Did language arts lessons with Katharine and Rebecca. Ate spaghetti and green beans at 5:30 p.m. for dinner. Laura cleared the table, Emma and Rebecca washed dishes, Katharine put them away. Dumped a bunch of pennies in the dish pan as an unexpected reward for helping. Worked upstairs in the empty bedroom, sorting through clothes until 9:00 p.m. Nursed Caroline to sleep and then went to bed myself.

On a day like this, I tend to think that I didn't get anything done. After all, no big project was begun or finished. It's just an ordinary day, like so many of the days of my life. Dishes, lessons, meals, etc., etc., etc. What is so amazing and life-changing and special about what I do? This "being a Mom."

Last Friday evening I heard a woman sing a song called "Sacred" by the group Caedmon's Call. It puts all of my "ordinary days" into perspective.

This house is a good mess it's the proof of life
No way would I trade jobs but I don't pay overtime
I'll get to the laundry I don't know when
I'm saying a prayer tonight cause tomorrow it starts again

Could it be that everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes

The children are sleeping but they're running through my mind
The sun makes them happy and the music makes them unwind
My cup runneth over, I worry about the stain
Teach me to run to you like they run to me for everything

Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes

When I forget to drink from you I can feel the banks harden
Lord make me like a stream to feed the garden

Wake up little sleeper
The Lord God Almighty
Made your mama keeper
So rise and shine, rise and shine, rise and shine

Cause everything is sacred
And all this time
Everything I've dreamed of has been right before my eyes.

It is in the little, mundane, everyday, ordinary things that I worship God. This taking care of my children, husband and house are my "spiritual act of worship." To God, my ordinary days are sacred.

Mother's Day 2010

I went to a women's event with a friend on Friday night and, as I headed out the door, I told dear hubby (who from now on shall be referred to as The Man of the Place) that he had about 6 hours to sit down with our 5 princesses and figure out the menu for Mother's Day because I was NOT going to be cooking.

I got my breakfast in bed on Saturday morning because it's just too chaotic to do it on Sunday morning. What a breakfast it was! One fried egg, two slices of bacon, a piece of toast, a pumpkin chip muffin, a banana, a bowl of strawberries, a large glass of orange juice and a cup of tea. I was RAWTHER full. In fact, I couldn't eat all of it. But, it was delicious.

Sunday lunch was French bread (made in the bread machine while we were at church) and chicken noodle soup (which had been made on Saturday and was warmed in the crockpot while at church). After lunch, I laid on the couch and dozed on and off for about three hours. I had mentioned that I wanted to garden (i.e. weed), but didn't have the energy to pull it off. Dinner consisted of egg salad sandwiches, chocolate chip scones, cantaloupe, strawberries, tea and, the best part of all, homemade strawberry ice cream.

The princesses made homemade cards for me. Aurora's was so cute. "You're the best Mom I've had in a long time." Like she's had another and/or different one?

But Cinderella wrote a poem. As you'll see in a moment, it's wonderful, but the best part is that she has inherited my ability for writing poetry. And she's only 10!

MOTHERS

Mothers are special, they're caring and giving
They work extremely hard, but don't earn a living.
A living or not, they work every day.
They guide you and show you to walk in God's ways.

If you have a bad dream, she'll welcome you to bed,
But what she'd rather do is sleep instead.
Whenever she gets sick, she does what she always does.
She takes care of her house and her family like she never was.

So to make this Mother's Day special
A homemade card will do fine.
But the real reward is to look at you,
A Mother who's caring and kind.

Sniff. Sniff. Someone pass the Kleenex.

What Makes Dinner So Special?

I thought you might enjoy a poem I wrote yesterday about what makes dinner so special at our house. I wrote this poem to enter a Mother's Day Contest that Focus on the Family is having. Let me know what makes dinner so special at your house.

What makes dinner special
For our family of seven?
Visit me in my kitchen
And an answer I'll be givin'.

Our meals are made from scratch
Mostly from food we've grown.
They're cooked on my white gas stove
In our century-old home.

Our fare is pretty basic
To call it gourmet, I would not.
But it's made with lots of love
And served up nice and hot.

Daddy joins us for dinner
And over our meal he prays.
Then we dig in with gusto
And talk about our day.

My girls say my food's a "keeper"
They usually clean their plates
My husband loves my cooking
And rarely has any complaints.

Some meals are eaten quickly,
At others, we linger long.
In summer, we dine al fresco
Serenaded by the bird's song.

Holidays are really special.
Everything looks pretty and nice
With the linens, china and candles
And food cooked with extra spice.

When someday my table is empty
'Cause my girls have their own homes
I hope they'll remember our dinners
Where bodies and hearts were grown.

So, what is it, really
That's so special about our dinners?
Nothing too fine or fancy
It's just that we're TOGETHER.

Childhood Games

What games did you play as a child that required use of imagination? What did you play on a rainy Saturday afternoon? What household items did you use as props to aid you in your drama?

I am the oldest of 12 children. There are four girls and eight boys in my family. We grew up in a house without a television. We NEVER had a television, ever. That meant there was lots of "down time" for us to play and invent games using our imaginations.

I remember playing this game called "Sue and Joe." Myself and my brother, Timothy, who is 17 months younger than I, would pretend to be these two people called Sue and Joe. My sister, Katie, who is four years younger than I, would always be the dog. She was always a collie and her name was always Shep. I don't quite remember what Sue and Joe did, but we probably just played house or some game that mimicked what we saw adults doing.

There are pictures of Timothy and I, dressed in dress-up clothes, sitting on the arm of the couch. Piled on the couch behind us are all of our toys, covered in blankets. We were "going on vacation." The ever present baby doll was on my lap.

When there were more siblings and it was time to clean up our toys, we would play "Noah's Ark." We'd spread out a big blanket on the floor, pile all the toys in the middle of the blanket (even the ones that were already in their proper places), and then put them all away. It would take hours.

I'm sure there were more, but I'd have to ask my siblings what else we did. What prompted this memory was Saturday afternoon. I was upstairs painting on Saturday and heard my girls playing downstairs. As I listened, I realized they were pretending to be "poor Russian Jewish immigrants on a boat on their way to America." I peeked over the bannister to get a glimpse of their costumes which had come from the overflowing dress-up box. They each had on a long skirt and a scarf tied around their head. The living room floor had been transferred into a ship room with beds (made from the couch cushions) and a small table (the piano bench) with a single candle, cups of water and dry crackers for their food. I heard Belle (who I think was the mom) tell the children that if they didn't go to sleep, she was going to call the Prime Minister.

I was going to listen to a CD or the radio while I was painting, but after listening to their conversation, I decided that their little drama was much more entertaining. Three of their friends came over for an hour and joined right in the game. When it was time for their friends to go home, I called the dad and told him the "poor Russian Jewish immigrants" had disembarked and were on the way to their new home. His response was classic. "Then I'll go and lift my lamp beside the golden door." :-)

I absolutely LOVE to listen to my girls when they use their imaginations to play. We have a television, but I'm so glad that they're capable and willing to leave it turned off and play creatively with each other and their friends. During the summer they play pioneers, Indians, and we've even had a hobo jungle. I think if I and other parents all over the country could secretly capture children "playing and pretending," it would make a most entertaining and quality TV show. It'd certainly be better than most of wha's out there.

So, what "pretend" games did you play as a child?

Rainbows and Promises

Lest you be fooled by the words "Rainbow Manor" in my blog title and think that I live in a house as large, gracious and expansive as the name "Manor" would indicate, I am here to set the record straight. I do not. But, I do live in a house that was built in 1905 and has all the charm and character that a house from that period would be expected to have.

The main floor of the house consists of a kitchen (with a little room off to the south that I guess you could call a butler's pantry), laundry room (that was formerly the bathroom), very large bathroom with two huge windows (used to be a downstairs bedroom), dining room/living room that is one large room, and a hallway leading to upstairs.

Upstairs are three small bedrooms with three small closets.

The house has a porch that extends all the way across the front (which faces east) but has been enclosed. We currently use it for storage. We have grand plans to turn 2/3 of it into a library and open the other 1/3 so we can use the actual front door to the house and I can have room for a porch swing.

There was a second-story porch on the house which was also enclosed. It measures about 3-1/2 feet wide and 10 feet long. This will be my husband's office and room to store his hunting and fishing equipment. He wanted one space in the house that was his and his alone. It's not very big, but he's not claustrophobic.

Over the main part of the house is a HUGE walk-up attic. As attics usually are, it's filled with Christmas decorations, boxes of out-of-season clothes for the girls, coolers, suitcases, books that have no shelf to decorate, and many things that need to be donated or sold. This space will eventually be a master bedroom suite for hubby and me with a bathroom all our very own.

Over the kitchen, there is a smaller attic. To enter this attic, you must go into the south bedroom, into the closet and open the left wall of the closet which is actually a door into the attic. This space is currently filled with blankets, camping equipment, a mattress, a chair and lamp, and out-of-season clothes that belong to hubby and me. This space will eventually be a playroom for the girls.

Under the house is a cellar. It cannot be called a basement. It's probably very much like the cellar at your grandparent's house. It houses all the canning equipment, canned food, freezer, hubby's tools, furnace, oil tank and various other things. There are no future plans for this space. It can only be a cellar.

The first floor of the house has 9-10 foot ceilings, 6-inch oak woodwork around all the windows, solid oak doors and 10-inch oak baseboard. The floors are beautiful hardwood and the staircase is all wood. The ceilings are lower in the bedrooms but the hardwood floors and woodwork are the same except that the woodwork is painted inside the bedrooms.

One of the reasons I named my house Rainbow Manor is because rainbows have seven colors and there are seven people in our family. Each is unique and beautiful in its own way. Each of us has a different favorite color. Belle and I like red, Aurora's is yellow, Snow White's is green, Ella's is blue and hubby's is purple. There's only one color left -orange. The four older princesses are convinced that littlest princess can't have any other favorite color than orange. We'll see!

There are three leaded glass windows in my house. One in the dining room, one in the living room and one in the front hallway. The glass is the living room window is beveled. As the seasons change from winter to spring and fall to winter, the sun shines through the east-facing living room window and paints rainbows all over my walls.

The five princesses love the rainbows as do I. They run around putting their hands on the walls and feet on the floors so that the rainbows will decorate their skin. The rainbows make us smile. But, best of all, they remind me of my Heavenly Father. When I see a rainbow, either in my house or in the summer sky, it reminds me that God is thinking about me and being faithful in keeping all His promises. Thus, the name for my house and my blog.