Saturday, October 25, 2008
At any rate, this is one of my absolute favorite scenes from Monty Python's, The Holy Grail (note:I wouldn't recommend every section of this film!).
Saturday, October 18, 2008
The 'architectural' window(the sofa sits right behind it)
The 'fix-it counter'
The pick-up counter
The following are Main St. pics
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Ang and I were introduced through a mutual friend about 4 years ago and she has been a sweet balm of encouragement, joy and healing during some of the most difficult times of my life.
This sister is one of my heroines of the faith; she is a Berean, if you will. I am constantly challenged by her yearning and seeking the truths of Scripture. The Lord has used her to strengthen me in my faith for which I am truly grateful.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
This next clip is quite shaky since it was a non-professional taping, but Miranda dances while she plays. She's nuts! She's amazing! :) Hope you enjoy it, gals. :D
Beth, the Irish dancing is posted for you and Jewels. Love you girlies so much!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Around here, Tuesday is wash day. I don't know too many mom's who find laundering exhilirating. Under the right conditions I find it relaxing, but in a real home those "conditions" don't often exist. ;) I really don't have anything to complain about though. My piles definately don't add up to those of my sister's (she has 7 kids) or my cousin's (who has 13 kids). Laundry anyone? ;)
My 3 sons! ;)
Greg's excited smile because he was on his last pile of flashcards. :)
Micaiah engrossed in his book The Cat of Bubastes: A Tale of Ancient Egypt by G.A. Henty
Jackson is a pacer. When he talks on the phone or is memorizing, he paces. Makes me nervous, but it seems to help him. ;)
The ever intellectual Jackson. Actually, we are hoping his intellect kicks back in once the hormones die down a bit. ;) Here he's working on memorizing William Bradford's writing about the Pilgrims. I just happened to catch him in one of those 'thoughtful' moments like, "How does this apply to me??".
Thursday, October 2, 2008
For that dear smile upon your kindly face,
For marks of toil upon each loving hand,
That worked for me ere I could understand;
For all time's touches on your hair and brow,
For never were you quite so dear as now:
I will be loyal, faithful, loving, true,
For, Mother dear, I owe so much to you.
Today is the birth-day of a most special woman; my mom. My mother has devoted her life to her family. She has been the faithful wife of a faithful man. From these two have come 5 living children and 14 grandchildren.
If you were to ask her where her passion for being at home was learned, she will tell you that her mother, who was a single mom, often remarked that all she wanted to be was a wife and mother and be at home. Having this instilled in her from a young age and understanding that to be her scriptural role, she gave her whole heart to it.
My mom believes with all her heart, as Spurgeon stated, "Home is the grandest of all institutions." Because of this, as children, we had a home that was filled with a mother's sacrificial love. My mom is not only a devoted mother, but mother-in-law and grandmother. Because of her faithfulness to the Lord, she has been and continues to be one of God's most constant and effectual means of leading her children and grandchildren to the Lord.
Proverbs 14:1 says, "Every wise woman buildeth her house: but the foolish plucketh it down with her hands." My mom is a wise woman. She is a virtuous woman. She has looked well to the ways of her household and has not eaten the bread of idleness. Her husband safely trusts her that he will have no need of spoil and that she will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. She has used wisdom by her words, in her purchases, in her caring for the needy, and the opening up of her home to those that the Lord brought in her path. Because of this, I arise and call her blessed!(Prov. 31)
Ella Wheeler Wilcox was an American poet who lived from 1850-1919. In her poem, The Need of the Hour, she asks, "What does our country need?" The answer? "Women, strong of soul, yet lowly, women whose lives are pure and clean and holy, whom all little children bless; Brave earnest women, helpful to each other, with finest scorn for all things low and mean; Women who hold the names of wife and mother far nobler than the title of a queen. Women who, worn and weary, ask no greater glory than making some young soul the home of truth; who sow in hearts all fallow for the sowing the seeds of virtue and of scorn for sin, and, patient, watch the beauteous harvest growing and weed out tares which crafty hands cast in." Ella Wheeler believed that "these are our country's pride, our country's need" and I heartily concur! It was/is my mother's desire to be at home to instruct, love and care for her children and husband in the Lord. She knows that it is her God-given role and she unapologetically fills that role with joy and thanksgiving.
My mom loves singing. I remember her singing as she went about her work in the home. They weren't the songs of the world. Not that all 'worldly' songs are sinful, but her thoughts were directed towards the Lord. They were songs of praise, of requests and of humility before the Lord. I can see her now at her kitchen sink, head raised slightly as unto the Lord, and her mouth filled with song. One of my favorite songs is one that was sung by the mother in the musical Fiddler on the Roof. My mom used to sing it to my sisters and I when we were young. It is called the Sabbath Prayer.
My mom truly is a woman whose price is far above rubies. In this I rejoice and thank the Lord because I have a godly model set before me. Not just any model. A model who loves my very soul and the souls of my family.
A builder builded a temple,
He wrought it with grace and skill;
Pillars and groins and arches
All fashioned to work his will.
Men said, as they saw its beauty,
"It shall never know decay;
Great is thy skill, O builder!
Thy fame shall endure for aye."
A mother builded a temple
With loving and infinite care,
Planning each arch with patience,
Laying each stone with prayer.
None praised her unceasing efforts,
None knew of her wondrous plan,
For the temple the mother builded
Was unseen by the eyes of man.
Gone is the builder's temple,
Crumpled into the dust;
Low lies each stately pillar,
Food for consuming rust,
But the temple the mother builded
Will last while ages roll,
For that beautiful unseen temple
Was a child's immortal soul.