Fresh squeezed lemonade in November

This morning while I was writing, I glanced out my bedroom window. There was our huge Meyer lemon tree, laden with yellow lemons in front of a cobalt blue sky. It nearly took my breath away. Alyssa came in and, looking out the window, said, "Oh, we need to make lemonade!" She (and Rusty) slipped out through the patio door in our bedroom. A few minutes later she came back in with about a dozen lemons gathered into her shirt. Here's our recipe for lemonade: Squeeze enough lemons to get 2 cups of juice. Put in a pitcher with 1 cup of sugar and 6 cups of water. Stir, chill and ENJOY. There is just something about fresh squeezed lemonade in November that seems WRONG somehow. However, if we don't pick them, they will end up floating in the pool, which would be infinitely worse. My grandmother taught me to squeeze the juice and freeze it in ice cube trays. When frozen, it can be stored in ziploc bags to be thawed later in a pitcher to make lemonade. I went out and purchased an ice cube tray - so I'm prepared!

First Sunday of Advent: Hope

The first Sunday of Advent is in a week - November 30th. I was asked to write the liturgy for the lighting of the candles on the Advent wreath. Here is what I wrote about HOPE. This is the short version - I had to cut it down by about half. As always, I was way too wordy. Imagine that!:

First Sunday of Advent: HOPE

Voice 1 - On this first Sunday of Advent we remember the hope that we have in Jesus.

Voice 2 - Hope is a deep, unquenchable current flowing down through the centuries and into the days of our lives. It flows from its source – Jesus – who was before all time, is now, and will be forever the same. All things were made by him and for him, and in him all things hold together.

Voice 3 - This hope is what enables us to plant our feet on the floor each morning. It is the song that we follow through the long dark night.; the porch light that beckons our footsteps homeward through the forest. It is the light that shimmers just out of sight at the periphery of our vision. Its sweet fragrance seeps in under the tightly locked doors of our hearts.

Voice 4 - If we hope in ourselves, our failures discourage us. If we hope in others, they may unwittingly or intentionally fail us. Material things may all too easily be lost, stolen or destroyed. Our jobs may end or change in spite of our best efforts. Our financial investments may diminish when markets fall.

Voice 1 - Our hope in Jesus, however, does not disappoint. In the days of the kings of Israel, the prophets foretold the coming of a king greater than David, who would reign forever in righteousness and peace. In the time of the exile, the prophets foretold the coming of a deliverer who would save his people from their sins – the Messiah. The words of the prophets were cherished with hope through 400 years of silence. The heartbeat of hope in the promised Messiah pulsed on until it took up residence in the breast of a baby asleep in a manger in Bethlehem.

Voice 2 - And so we light this candle in remembrance of Jesus’ first coming as a baby to redeem us. But the story doesn’t end there, for he also promised to return as the King of Kings.

(Light the candle)

Voice 3 - During these shortest days of the year, as darkness falls and shadows lengthen, we have lit this candle of hope as a reminder that we are watching and waiting this Advent season for Jesus’ return. With the psalmist we cry, “Be strong and take heart all you who hope in the Lord.” And with the prophet Micah we declare: “But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior.”

Voice 4 - LET US PRAY: God of all hope – thank you for awakening hope through the words of your prophets, for faithfully fulfilling our hope by sending the baby who came to save us, and for allowing the hope to live on as we await his return this Advent. Amen.

Being Thrifty

I decided to make some cards using only the scraps I had left over on my work table after some recent projects (except for the base cardstock). I had fun figuring out how to make do.

My Muse

Here's the card I was working on when Rusty distracted me by walking by on the fence. It is a combination of two techniques: using masques and embossing a design on a clear acrylic tag.

"Let me in!"

Usually when I work in my studio, Rusty takes up his position right in the middle of whatever I'm working on. Today, however, he was outside. He walked the fence until he spied me at work. I took this photo of him, through the window, as he was looking in the window of my studio at Alyssa, who was working on the computer across the table from me as I worked on a project. Once he figured out we were not going to open the window and let him in, he continued his circumnavigation of our yard from the lofty vantage point the fence affords.

Embossed tags

I made a wonderful discovery. Clear acrylic tags work beautifully in Cuttlebug embossing folders. I embossed the tag, then layered it over the apple green checked paper cut to the same size and shape. So many possibilities!

Having Pinecrest to ourselves

My brother, Tom, and I rendezvoused at the family cabin last Sunday through Tuesday. Tom had two days off from school and I had several projects that I knew would benefit by uninterrupted time. I have always loved being at Pinecrest after the summer crowds have ebbed away, back down the mountain. A fresh layer of pine needles lies damp and untrodden on the road in front of our cabin. There is even a touch of snow. As we walked through the deserted campgrounds on our way to the store for coffee and filters, I recalled the strumming guitars, barking dogs, laughing children, crackling campfires, haze of smoke, fragrance of meat grilling, gaggles of kids on bicycles, beach towels on ropes strung between trees, and genial companionship around picnic tables of just weeks before, now swallowed up by the peaceful hush of this early evening dusk. We followed the route, made familiar by a lifetime of such walks, to the general store. In the summertime, the parking lot would have been packed with big trucks, SUV's, and mini-vans. Children with dripping ice cream cones would be perched on the side of the covered porch watching people being pulled by big dogs on leash and tanned teens in bikinis and flip flops checking out what movie would be playing that night at the outdoor amphitheater. There would be a line at The Serene Bean - the scent of espresso wafting along the porch. The doors to the general store would be slapping open and shut with frequent traffic. This evening it was just the two of us and the very nice lady with a miserable cold behind the counter at the store. They were out of the size of coffee filters we needed, so she graciously offered us a few from the store's espresso machine to go with our Sonora Roasting Company French Roast. From there we circled back along the lake front. The swimming buoys had been stored away. The waterline had receded to reveal islands of boulders hidden June through August. The surface of the lake was still, untroubled by the thrum and churning of motor boats. A few fishermen lingered hopefully along the shore as gulls soared by overhead. We turned away from the lake up the hill toward the cabin where we added another log to the wood stove, brewed a fresh cup of coffee, and settled down in companionable silence to read. Perfect peace.

Fall color after all!

This is God's gracious gift to my homesick heart - an explosion of brilliant fall color just outside our patio door. Our wind chimes, tuned to the key of C, hang from the eaves right into the embrace of the maple's branches. When the wind blows, the chimes sound and the leaves dance together with the music.

You're never too old to play with face paint!

Alyssa dressed up as a fairy for Halloween trick-or-treating, complete with sparkly purple wings. It's amazing what you can accomplish with a little eyeshadow and eyeliner when you are feeling creative!

Franken-kitty

Halloween 2008. We only had five trick-or-treaters. So disappointing. The first set was a trio of teenaged “dice.” The three girls were dressed all in black and each was sporting a big white box with black dots – very clever. Randy was so excited that someone had finally rung our doorbell, that he threw a huge handful of candy in each of their bags. As they walked away, I heard on of the girls exclaim, “That was awesome!”

We went back to our reading. Rusty was curled up in my lap and I was scratching his head when I discovered that he had a HUGE abscess behind his left ear. So, first thing Saturday morning, we took him to the vet. Dr. Chan said it looked like he had been bitten all the way through the cartilage of his ear, and as she flicked off the scab we could see that it was, indeed, filled with pus. Totally gross and disgusting. Sorry. We left him to her ministrations and wandered through the farmer’s market just down the street and relaxed with our purchases at Tully’s Coffee.

When we picked him up an hour later, he had been transformed into Franken-kitty, just one day too late for Halloween. She had put two drains through his ear. We were instructed to wiggle them three times a day, to keep them from scabbing over. We were to apply a hot wet compress to his ear for five minutes three times a day. Right . . . about that – Rusty doesn’t like water any more than the average cat. We also had the joy of shooting pink Amoxicillin down his throat twice a day. Thanks to my friend Peg, I know the secret to giving a cat medicine. Grab him by the scruff of his neck and lift him up so his front paws are off the ground and he can’t resist. It’s a miracle!

Anyway, you’re probably wondering why I am sharing this. It’s because of a comment Randy made while trying to hold yet another hot, wet compress to the cat while holding him in a hammer lock. He said it’s like hurts and unforgiveness in our life. If we don’t take off the scab, so the poison can drain out, it just continues to fester and grow until it threatens to explode, or it spreads into our blood and sickens the rest of our body, soul and spirit – as the infection had caused Rusty to become feverish and lethargic. The cleansing process was not pleasant for Rusty. He hated it, and fought it to the best of his ability. But as of Thursday, the drains have been removed and he is back to his normal bouncy self, with just a little missing hair and a few scabs to show for his ordeal.

You can see from these photos that Rusty spent much of his “convalescence” supervising my work in my studio. Now, in addition to pushing my mess out of my way as I continue to work, I have to periodically remove the cat from what I’m working on as well. And I’ve learned in a hurry to never leave open bottles of any kind of liquid unattended.

Any excuse to play with my art stuff!

Alyssa is in the school play, Shakespeare for Dummies. We saw it last night and it was delightful, but that's not what I want to write about. The cast is exchanging "secret pal" gifts for each of the three nights they are performing. So, today after school, Alyssa and I went to the mall so she could get her "pal" a gift. She got two shades of purple nail polish at Hot Topic. About 1/2 hour before she had to leave for tonight's performance she asked me if we had a small gift box. I said, "No, but if you give me a few minutes I can make you are really cool triangle box." She humored me and I went to work. I found the directions for this box on www.splitcoaststampers.com.
It's really quick and easy to do. All you need is a 5 x 10 inch piece of cardstock. I have been looking for DAYS for the Heidi Swapp masks that I KNEW I had, because I saw Tim Holtz' mask tutorial on his blog (www.timholtz.typepad.com) and wanted to try out the technique. I hadn't been able to find the masks anywhere until TODAY. When I opened up the stamp drawer to get out my Memory Box flourish stamps, I FOUND THEM. So, I used the damask mask on this little purple box. After using the foam applicator tool to apply the ink over the mask. I inked a word background stamp with the same ink and stamped right over the top of the mask. I then removed the mask and did the rest of the stamping. What a fun little box to put a small gift in. With the ribbon on the top, it could also be hung on a Christmas tree with a small gift inside. We are going to make them at our church's Family Advent Celebration coming up soon.

Saturday Soccer

Because I am both a native Californian and someone who survived the brutal winter in Iowa last year, I think I can get away with poking some fun at Californians when it comes to weather and soccer. Randy has been a soccer official at all levels from the little tykes in recreational leagues through the college level ever since Emily was in first grade (she’s now 21). The rule in Iowa is “we play in the rain, unless there is thunder and lightning.”

Randy has a rain shirt to wear under his official’s uniform and always carries an extra pair of socks, expecting to get soaked, so he can put on dry socks between games. I have used a sharp knife to scrape mud out of the grooves of three pairs of soccer shoes (since Ian and Emily both played) for as many years as I can remember. The rule was: strip in the laundry room after an especially mud-wallowing game. In Emily’s opinion, there was nothing more fun than playing in the mud. In fact, I can remember one miserable fall soccer game in Waverly, Iowa. I sat in my chair on the sidelines wrapped in a heavy blanket, covered by a rain poncho and holding a stadium umbrella, as the rain poured off the sides of the umbrella like a waterfall. There was no thunder or lightning, so the game was “on.” We all had to go the nearby McDonald’s afterwards to thaw out with hot chocolate.

As of Thursday night, we are having our first rain here in California since we moved here in July – no wind, no thunderstorm activity – just gentle rain. Randy received an email this morning that all soccer fields in Dublin are closed due to rain. Really? Wow! If that were the standard in Iowa, they would seldom be able to play. Think of all the great mud these poor California kids are missing out on.