A room without books is like a body without a soul.
-Cicero

Click the images for captions and close-up views of the bookshelves of the YLCF Team Members (those who aren’t in the midst of cross-country moves and beginning deployment, that is!).  And start taking pictures of your own books: we’re having a bookshelf photo carnival next week!

I would be most content if my children grew up to be the kind of people who think decorating consists mostly of building enough bookshelves.
-Anna Quindlen, “Enough Bookshelves,” New York Times, August 7, 1991

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

They are piled artfully on the desk. They mount to the lampshade on the bedside table. They wobble in stacks as precarious as a loose boulder jutting over a snowy mountainscape.

Oh, yes. And they fill the bookshelves.

What would we do without them? For the true bibliophile, nothing so beautifies a room as a healthy population of books. One of my favorite things to do upon entering another’s home is to peruse the shelves. To run an eager eye over the titles and spines deemed worthy by the occupants to proclaim their unique passions and interests to the world. I fully believe that the books one chooses to read and display speak more eloquently than words of one’s identity. Of what moves and motivates them; of what makes them more alive. Of where their treasure is, if you will. Books are such living companions that the placing of one upon a shelf–or on a table, or leaning in a deep windowsill or even propping up a candlestick–is in many ways an invitation to that volume to take up its abode with you. It is for that reason that it is as interesting for me to stare at the bookshelves of old friends as it is of new acquaintances.  A person’s bookshelf is a window into their personhood. And it can be a magic casement, “opening on the foam of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn”.

When we renovated our den a few years back, we had a pretty clear idea of what we wanted: a William Morris-styled room with dark paneling and old, polished wood for the firelight to flicker off of. We envisioned a plate rail carefully adorned with things we “believe to be beautiful” and deep leather furniture that would envelop one like an embrace. But the most important thing about the room–the focal point about which we grouped our other ideas–was the bookcase. I wanted floor-to-ceiling shelves, like the 14-footers in my grandmother’s Victorian home. Philip saw them backed with the same rich heart-pine with which we had paneled the walls and the ceiling and laid the floor, stained a gorgeous English Chestnut like the rest of the room. And a freize at the top for a motto to express our ideals and our vision–to both of which the volumes to be housed beneath had contributed immeasurably.

Only the best for our books, was the unspoken mantra between us.

So Philip drew them out, measured about a million times for good luck, and cranked up the circular saw. For days our lives were punctuated by the wails and shrieks of cutting and the pounding of hammers and nail guns. We opened our windows in December against the fumes of the stain and polyurethane. But at last it was time for our books to come home, and we carted them down from where we had stashed them in an upstairs bedroom with the giddiness of children. I couldn’t wait to see how they would look–how alive the room would become–when we had fitted our loved volumes into Philip’s beautiful bookshelves.

“I wonder how full they will be?” I wondered as we passed each other on the stairs.

“I wonder how long it will take to fill them up?” Philip grinned.

The shelves were close to half-full and we were amazed. We didn’t realize that we had that many books.

That was five years ago.

They are full now.

My grandparents’ library shelves were full, too. And the old drug store case in the upstairs hall. And the barrister cases in the bedroom. And the low bookshelves encircling the sunporch. And the built-ins encasing the door to the back hall like an arch of triumph.

That’s just the way it is with book lovers. It’s not only hard to know when to stop. It’s impossible. But how soulless our homes would be without them!

Check back on Wednesday for a gallery tour of some of our YLCF Team Members‘ bookshelves!

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

adapted from my journal

On Christmas Eve morning I was up at five. I wondered if any of my neighbors were astir at that hour, but all the other houses through the trees were dark. It was my own, private, precious hour with Jesus—on a day when His humanity is nearer to my heart than any other. I would not have traded it for silver and gold. It shines in my heart yet as an unspeakable gift from Him—I have no words.

When I first stepped into my dark kitchen that morning a silver tide of moonlight was pouring in from the windows above the sink. The moon itself, a tremendous and luminous sphere, was sailing calmly through an untroubled sky of velvety blue, with a single star—the star of the morning—waiting attendance upon the regal passage. It was so beautiful—the light all tangled up in the branches of the water oak outside and casting its pale glory over frost-encrusted yard and pasture and silent winter garden—that I literally caught my breath. It hurt me to look at it, and yet I could not get enough. I lighted the gas jet under the tea kettle and just stared and stared. I hated to turn on the lights in the den to banish such a radiance.

After my devotions, I fell to setting the tables, moving about as quietly as I could, yet with a growing mirth at what day the coming dawn was hailing and what happiness would soon be filling these rooms and sitting at these tables. As I worked, I was blessedly conscious of what was happening outside—the moon dropped almost reluctantly into the west, behind the great oak at the corner of the pasture by the cemetery, and from behind the woods to the east the day began to spring. The sky paled to a breathless blue, the gate of the day grew rosy, and soon a glory of another kind was spilling over treetops and lawn and setting all the frost crystals to glittering like so many diamonds. It was utterly pure and beautiful, my own special possession. And to think that I might have missed it—to think of how many other glorious dawns I have passed in the ignorance of sleep!! I always say that I love a cloudy Christmas Eve best, and a gloriously sunny Christmas Day—but I’d not send back the sweet splendours my Lord sent this year.

And so, just before ten, I got into my new red dress—finished at the characteristic eleventh hour—and dashed into the kitchen, just in time for Once in Royal David’s City, broadcast live right into my den all the way from King’s College in Cambridge. That sacred moment always makes the world seem smaller and our beloved England so much closer to us in time and space. We sat on the sofa hand in hand and listened, breathless, as the airy strains grew into a full choir and finally swelled with the organ and audience and what seemed like all the combined worshippers of ages past. I listened, as I always do, with a catch in my throat and tears in my eyes, to the Bidding Prayer, particularly at the thought of all those dear ones of my own “who rejoice with us, but upon another shore and in a greater light”. And then it was time to turn the sausage and flip on the coffee pot and check on the bacon sizzling away. And just as I was tucking the plum pudding back into its buttery mold for one last steam, the doorbell rang, and our merry old Christmas Eve party had begun…

It was my brother-in-law and his wife, but there was a whole parade of cars behind them: my family, Philip’s family and friends that are such family no ties of blood could make nearer and dearer. And soon the rooms rang with “Hello! Hello!” “Merry Christmas!” “Oooh—don’t you look pretty!” “Christmas Gif’!” and “Where can I put this?” There seemed to be children everywhere—which is fitting as this day is for them above all others at our farm-in-the-city. One of them came up and asked me if there were to be peppermint sticks in oranges this year. I smiled knowingly and replied that they should go and take a look at the coffee table in the den where two crystal bowls boasted the coveted treats—“But you’ll have to wait till after breakfast!” In the twinkling of an eye, as it were, my home was full of laughter and the snap and crackle of open fires, fragrant with cider and the pudding that was steaming away and the traditional sausages…

Philip asked the patriarchs to say the blessing and I thought that was quite fitting and sensitive of him. As I looked around the dining room, filled to capacity with the progeny of these two men, I had to smile to myself at what they would have thought when they first met at college all those years ago if they could have looked into the future and seen such a gorgeous (and enormous—35 of us!) assemblage. And I smiled, at the same time, at the sweet sounds of Ding Dong Merrily in High pouring out of my radio in that quiet moment, all the way from England…

I spent most of the breakfast bustling about, making sure everyone had tea and coffee and juice, catching a five year-old cherub who threatened to topple out of her chair at the childrens’ table, lingering to laugh at an old and loved story at the adults’ table, and sitting down in my place at the ‘kids’ table’ just about the time I needed to pop back up again and take out the pudding. But I love it, of course. Every minute of it. And when brunch had been dispensed with and the pudding slipped miraculously from its antique mold, we warmed some brandy in a skillet and Philip called all the children into the kitchen to see the great event—after igniting it I poured the blue elven flame over the pudding on its silver holly trimmed tray amid gasps and exclamations—it was quite lovely!—and Philip bore it in triumph into the dining room to a chorus of delighted voices and a spontaneous burst of applause.

Then all of the children—from the smallest to the tallest—came asking for their oranges and peppermint sticks, and to look around at all those beautiful girls in their smocked dresses and handsome little men looking like pint-sized versions of their Daddys in sweater vests, intent upon a pleasure so simple as sucking the juice of an orange through a soft peppermint ‘straw’ made.

After all the excitement of the pudding and the crackers had died down and the jokes had been told and re-told and the charms passed off to admiring children who thought they were treasures indeed, I settled down in the hall with the ladies for a much-appreciated cup of coffee and a good chat while the men and children went out in the yard to play and to say ‘Hello,’ and ‘Merry Christmas!’ to the chickens. When I chanced to step out on the back porch it was a sight to warm the heart for days to come—a lovely day, as the dawn had promised, lightly overcast with clouds scudding across a wintry sky, chill enough for all the lovely velvet Christmas coats to bloom out in all the colors of jewels, and a pale December sunlight falling with a mellowing touch upon all the bright heads. They were all running around, screaming and laughing, chasing and being chased by the adults, paper crowns askew and baby dolls dangling by the arms…such a beautiful tableau of innocent happiness…I loved it. I just stood there, leaning over the rail and taking it all in. And then Philip got the idea that each one of them should have a chance at ringing the old school bell at the back of the house in honor of Christmas and a great pealing ensued which drove me from my post and down into the yard with them all to take part in the fun.

I gave everyone their favors when it was time to go—paper cones filled with fudge and caramels—and the children were so excited. How refreshing it is in this age of materialism to see children thrilled over peppermint sticks in oranges and bits of paper and tinsel crammed with homemade candy!

As the dusk fell upon our darling day and a purple and golden twilight descended, the light of the fire and the Christmas tree and my little Advent wreath in the window shone out with an ever-increasing warmth and I longed, oh so fiercely!, to make time stop for even a moment or two. We had done our favorite day homage, old traditions had been honored and new ones introduced for consideration. Children had been exalted to the guests of honor in tribute to our blessed Child-Savior and adults had celebrated the ties that He had forged. The whole day had been a Christmas gift from the Host of the feast. An invitation to the children and the childlike to enter into His joy.

A gilt-edged shadow of the happiness that lies in store for us all when faith is made sight.

Thanks be to God.

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

The question has been presented in various forms over the two years John and I have been married. I heard it again last weekend at the wedding we attended.

Before I answer, I ask myself, what do I do?

Thinking over my days I remember the many little things that fill them. Waking up while the morning is still crisp, snuggling with my husband and baby boy, eating breakfast of cereal with banana before John leaves for work, reading my Bible with Troy on my lap… doing dishes, laundry, vacuuming, dusting, mopping, ironing…. planning menus, making grocery lists, having dinner ready when John gets home from work… holding and loving my precious baby boy, kissing poor tiny fingers pinched in baby toys–which will soon be scraped knees and cut fingers, changing many diapers a day, looking into Troy’s sweet little eyes as he nurses… enjoying conversations in the evening, ranging from computer networking to Bible doctrines… watching Troy enjoy his bath, then rocking and singing him to sleep… listening to John read God’s Word and praying together before drifting off to sleep…

“What do I do?” I reply with a smile. “I am a domestic engineer.”

“Oh. Wow.” The eyebrows go up. “And… do you enjoy that?”

Again I smile, unsure if this friend of a cousin understands what I mean in using the little phrase my mom coined when I was a little girl. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

A friend stopped by yesterday. We haven’t seen much of each other lately due to many short trips both of us have made. This was the girl who, in our high school years, was envied by many of the teenage girls in our church. Perhaps because of her naturally tiny shape, stylish clothes, coquettish ways? I don’t really know why we girls think some of the silly things we do.

We had a bit of an awkward visit yesterday. I listened for the first hour while she talked about all of the excursions she and her single sister have been making… weekends at the beach, visiting friends around the state and country. She told me about the cosmetology school she enrolled in, the house she just bought. She laughed as she told me about all the many guys who are just “crazy about her.” She talked of the clothes she’s been buying and the brands she loves.

Then she paused, sat back, and looked at me. “So what have you been doing? What’s up with you?”

“Well,” I began. “Not much. We just got back from a wedding in Minnesota, and we’re finally done with all these trips! I’ve just been kinda recovering from that… you know, laundry and cleaning up and stuff.”

I was met with a blank stare. For a moment there, I felt exactly like I did at fifteen when this same friend, who has become a dear friend in more recent years and with whom I laugh about our high school years now, would talk to me only if she had to, since I far, far from “cool.”  She said nothing. Just looked at me, waiting for me to say something else.

I took a breath. “Aaaand, taking care of Troy…. and…. stuff like that.” I laughed. There really wasn’t much else to say!

A  little half smile and a shrug. “Oh.”

This was one of those rare moments when I feel that my life is monotonous… humdrum… a little, perhaps, boring? I wanted to crawl upstairs with Troy and hide in a corner. The blank look, the shrug, the half smile. I felt so… insignificant. I didn’t have any wild times to talk about, or guys to report on,  or new clothes to sport. I just had the rhythm of my little life, not too full, not too crazy.

She left shortly after that, and I sat down on the couch where my friend, whom I do love dearly, had been sitting. I pulled Troy near to nurse him and thought about the visit. My heart was full of many different emotions, for many different reasons, not all relating to that conversation. But I still felt a tiny bit bruised from the encounter, and was rather surprised at my own reaction.

Then I looked down into the eyes of my baby boy. He was gazing up at me with more trust and little baby love than I ever could have imagined. I ran my hand across his soft head and held his hand in mine. My eyes started welling up.

As I sat there, John arrived home for his lunch break. He came and sat with me while I still fed Troy, and we talked together about his morning at work, my visit, and a few other topics. He put his arm around me and said, “The house sure looks nice. I like coming home when you have the music playing and candles lit.” I smiled at him, happy he had noticed my cleaning efforts of earlier in the morning.

It was quiet for a minute, then John looked down at Troy, stroked his little foot and said, in his cutest little mushy voice, “Isn’t he just the cutest thing?”

As I sat there, contemplating the events of the first half of the day, I became overwhelmed at God’s goodness to me. He has indeed given me everything and so much more than I ever could have asked for. He blesses me each morning with new mercies, a husband’s love, a little baby blessing to love and nurture, and a home to keep for His glory. What more could I want? The day to day tasks of my life may not hold much significance in the sight of others, but I can go to bed each night knowing that my husband considers himself a blessed man, and we are raising our little man to love Jesus with all of his heart. These are the things–the occupation–I have been given, and by God’s grace, I want to be a good steward of them, so that in the end, I can stand before Him and be told, “Well done, good and faithful servant… He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much… In as much as you’ve done it unto the least of these. you’ve done it unto Me.”

Written August 2006

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

This is you.

This is the Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. And by your participation in our A Peek Into Your Day blog carnival, you have demonstrated the beauty and complexity of the very special community we have here, not to mention the limitless creativity of God in allotting such unique places in life for each of us.

I had so much fun watching the posts come in on Wednesday—I told my husband that it was like watching lights flare and glow over a dark grid. It reminded me of the way I felt that first time I stumbled across the YLCF website so many years ago and how my heart thrilled at the knowledge of all of these precious girls and ladies out there that simply loved Jesus and wanted to live for Him to the best of their ability in a fallen world.

My eyes have burned with tears many times these past few days as I’ve read of your hope, your joy, your love for God and for those He has placed in your lives. It has been one of the most encouraging things that I can remember in quite some time simply to click through these blogs and revel in, not only the diversity, but the one single unifying factor that ties them all together into a beautiful whole: Jesus Christ.

Because, for all the differences in your individual lives and callings, one thing remained a constant. Almost every blog had a descriptive box on the right-hand side proclaiming the author to be a lover of God, a servant of Christ, an aspiring disciple. And almost every entry started out something like this:

I got up and met with the Lord. I sought Him in prayer. I went to His Word and I tried to take something away from it into my day. I tried to remember Him and what I believe and what it’s all about…

Do you girls have any idea how exciting that is? How precious it must be to the Lord? I don’t know about you, but the very thought of so many women all over the world (and the carnival, I know, is only a small slice of the whole of this precious community) getting up every day and trying to figure out how to live for God and what pleases Him and how to lend action and breath to love for Him—it gives me hope for this generation! And it makes me realize afresh just how much more brightly the Light shines against the darkness.

So, thank you all for participating, and for being so real. Thank you for loving our Jesus and for being bold to proclaim it. Thank you for shining like stars in the midst of a crooked and depraved generation. What a lovely, twinkling display it must be to the Father of Lights!

And to our own dear Ashleigh—for organizing and pulling off this blog carnival. We know and appreciate the work that you put into this, and I’m sure that all of YLCF will join me in saying thank you.

Thank you, all, for being you, the faces of YLCF. We love you, girls.

p.s. If you haven’t yet linked in to the A Peek Into Your Day carnival, it’s not too late! Links may be submitted through Sunday, November 1, 2009. The winner of the drawing will be announced Monday, November 2.

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

Over the course of the past few weeks, we’ve enjoyed a behind the scenes look into the real, day-to-day lives of the YLCF team members. You’ve watched us making meals, running errands, feeding animals, hurrying to softball games, writing articles, and, yes, even picking up fast food for dinner. Now it’s your turn! Join us as we visit the homes of blog friends, catching a glimpse into various lives and lifestyles.

We want to hear about your day–your real day. What does a normal, regular, ordinary, plain ol’, same ol’ day in your life look like? We hope you’ll open your virtual home to us and allow us and other readers a peek into your life. Show us that real lives aren’t lived by storybook characters, but we can still capture the fullness of the God even in the day-to-day.

To join in the fun is simple. Just post about your day on your blog, then copy and paste the URL for your individual blog post into the MckLinky below. Your link will appear in the list for others to click and view. Link back to YLCF somewhere in your post or use the blog button, copying this code:

<a href="http://ylcf.org" target="_blank"><img src="http://ylcf.org/uploaded_images/peek-into-your-day.jpg" border="0" alt="YLCF Blog Carnival"></a>

Additionally, every participant will be entered to win this pretty little blue and brown 16-month day planner! Winners will be chosen at random from the participants and announced Monday, November 2nd.

Post your link, get nosy and start blog hopping!

YLCF does not necessarily endorse every blog or lifestyle portrayed in the above links. We also reserve the right to delete any links deemed offensive or inappropriate.

A Day in the Life of the YLCF Team…

• Monday at the Farm in the City by Lanier
• Tuesday in the Writing Life by Elisabeth
• Wednesday in North Idaho by Chantel
• Thursday at the Little Pink House by Gretchen (with series introduction)
• Friday in Sunny Southern California by Ashleigh
• Saturday at Castleberry Farms by Jeannie

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

There’s something about crossing items off a list that not only makes them more doable, but gives an incentive to get them done.  Who hasn’t written down an already accomplished task just to be able to cross it off the list?  I’ve learned that planning my day with a prioritized to-do list helps ensure I get not just something done, but the important things done.  It also helps me feel like I’ve accomplished something and not only answers my husband’s question of “What are you going to do today?” but ensures I don’t forget something he asked me to be sure to get done.  The real reason behind my to-do list is truly that I am so scatter-brained these days that I always feel like I’m running in circles, so my list gives me direction and prevents me from forgetting what I need to do!

I learned long ago that singing improves not only my attitude, but that of those around me.  I remember helping baby-sit my cousins, and when all else failed in making them settle down, I’d start singing “Trust and Obey” and they’d all chime in and become little angels (or something close).  Later, when working in the state capitol, I learned that other people noticed the happy mood of my humming, even when I didn’t know a tune was on my lips.  And now, even though my little girls can’t repeat the words, they catch the mood of Mommy’s singing: Mary quiets her crying at the sound of my voice and Ruth sings her own wordless little songs along with me.  And naturally, if I’m singing cheerful songs I can’t help but feeling more cheerful.

So, assuming that time with the Lord is the “given”, the #1 item on your priority list, what are the things (under your control) that help your day go better?

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

The past year or two has seen a shift in focus here at YLCF, as one after another of our board and team members have married. We’ve enjoyed some wonderful posts from our sisters in their single years, and the response has indicated to us that such posts are reaching a deep need. But many, if not the majority, of our posts have reflected our individual stages. For many of us, that means we’re writing about our wonderful and beautiful marriages.

We understand–having all been there ourselves!–that it can be discouraging for an unmarried young woman to read post after post about married life. Our intention has been to share our hearts, as well as give our beloved friends a vision and a goal; to remind them that a fulfilling, Christ-centered marriage and the joy of children is something worth waiting for. But a few “little birds” have told us that it can be a bit much for a heart striving to be content. While we do believe it important to set one’s own boundaries in one’s spiritual journey (for example, if reading love stories causes discontentment or pain, we’d suggest not clicking on the Courtship Stories page for a new story every day!) and we certainly won’t ever stop writing from our perspective of wives and mothers, we would like to incorporate a bit more from the single years.

We’re not necessarily asking for posts about singleness (though they are certainly appreciated and needed). We’d like to know what you are doing with your single years. We’d like to catch a glimpse of your heart. We recently talked about making our lives count for Christ, no matter our marital status, and we’d like to hear more about how you are accomplishing that. If you are single, if you have wisdom to share… share it.

Along the same lines, we’d all love–LOVE–to hear from women who are in the next phase of life, past the first years of marriage or raising toddlers. The women who have a few more years of wisdom in their hearts and can offer a perspective most of us on the Team can’t pretend to grasp. We do understand, however, that time for such writing may be a slightly more limited!

This post isn’t borne out of desperation or a lack of posts or writers, but simply because we love interaction with all the ladies of YLCF. After all, the “F” in our name is for “fellowship” because it’s what we love most. Keeping in mind our Values and Writing Guidelines, get those fingers flying and let us hear from you!

As another means of promoting the fellowship and interaction (Gretchen already gave a little teaser to this) we’re going to ask for yet more participation from our dear readers. You’ve all had a chance to be privy to a day in each of the Team members’ lives–my own, the final installment, is coming on Friday–and now we’d like to get a peek into a day in your lives.

Next Wednesday, October 28, we’re going to host the “A Peek Into YOUR Day” blog carnival, right here at YLCF. This means you will have a chance to post about a real, normal day in your life on your own blog and then link to it here, giving all the readers of YLCF a chance to visit you and your day. The emphasis here is on being real. We don’t want idealized versions of what you wish your life were like, or what might fit a mold, but the real, day-to-day workings of your world. Whatever season you are in, whatever your life is like, we’d like to hear about it. If it isn’t real… don’t post it.

To participate, pick a day this next week to chronicle and come back next Wednesday ready to link up. My little nosy self is already excited! If you’d like to spread the word, grab this blog button and put it in your sidebar, tweet it, Facebook it, or post about it:

Copy this code:

<a href="http://ylcf.org" target="_blank"><img src="http://ylcf.org/uploaded_images/peek-into-your-day.jpg" border="0" alt="YLCF Blog Carnival"></a>

Every participant will be entered in the giveaway for this little 16-month day planner–along with a pretty pen, not shown, being that I still have to… obtain it. I don’t know about you, but I always fall hard and fast for anything with blue and brown! Along with adding your link to the carnival on Wednesday, comment and tell us if you add the button to your sidebar, tweet or write a blog post about the carnival before Wednesday for additional chances to win.

Official YLCF Giveaway Entry Rules:

• To enter the drawing, please participate in the carnival or leave a comment on this post with the link to the place you’ve “talked” about the carnival.
• Don’t forget to include your name and email address in the space provided on the comment form (your email address will not be published, but we need a way to contact you if you win!).
• This drawing open to readers with U.S. mailing addresses only, please.
• YLCF Team Members, their families, and recent YLCF giveaway winners ineligible for entry.
• Drawing ends Sunday, November 1, 2009.
• Winner(s) will be chosen randomly and notified by email Monday, November 2, 2009.

We can’t wait to hear from you!

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

“Summer’s loss seems little, dear, on days like these.”
-Ernest Dowson

“It snowed on the hills around us last night.”  The phrase from one of the letters Merritt wrote me during our years of friendship always comes to mind this time of year.  As in his letter (a particular favorite, which I carried around in my Bible), it snowed on the hills around us last night.  And this is the third autumn that these hills have been our hills, around us. The sight out my windows, with snow-frosted trees topping the gentle hills, is breathtaking—and it is home.

We’ve had our first few fires in the wood stove, our first winter squash.  I’m thinking about apple pies and being able to cook pots of beans and soup on the wood stove.  I’m looking forward to long candle-lit evenings reading with my husband and our girls.  And when I glance out my kitchen window, I see the red maple we bought and planted during our first few months of marriage.  The leaves have turned a deep red, signaling that yes, indeed, autumn has arrived.

“Here Comes Autumn!  A whiff of wood smoke on the wind, the first chill in the air, the woods just edged in gold, and without looking at the calendar, we know we’ve turned the page and it is September.  Time to put the ‘sweet’ in ‘Home Sweet Home.’”
-Susan Stewart Branch

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

Beautiful First Glimpses of Morning Light

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

There seems to be no two days alike for us when Summer is here, and newly wed life is full of learning experiences. I’m still getting our own little routines in place (and admittedly, this isn’t my strong point) I , and our ” bones” schedule, though fairly helter-skelter of late, is slowly coming back into shape. No matter what the rest of the day may hold, one thing is certain about any weekday: they start early.

There’s nothing like waking up in the morning and realizing that there is a whole new day awaiting you. I love to hear the birds sing in the morning, and to see the gentle glow of a sky warmed by the sunshine that isn’t quite visible just yet. Better yet, starting the day off kneeling together to ask God’s blessing and direction is a blessing that I cherish deeply.

Today looks like it will be absolutely beautiful- and warmer. Both of those things make me happy, for while there is a definite chill to the air, and there are a few signs that Autumn is not far away, I am not quite ready for cooler days and snowy weather once again, and any warm day is welcome here!

Mornings are almost always busy, and today is no exception to that rule. Scott and Katie (our sister-in-law) both work at Quest Aircraft

Scott & I standing with one of Quest's Kodiaks post production

and their shift starts at 6, and they should be out the door between 5:30 and 5:45 each morning. It is my first responsibility to pack up their lunches while they prepare for work, and make sure that they have breakfast if they want it. I learned long ago when it was my brother’s lunches that I packed that planning ahead is quite essential, because there are few things I dislike more to start off the day than to realize that I have nothing ready to feed “my people” as I lovingly refer to the heads under this roof.

Thankfully, thanks to yesterday’s baking and cooking, lunches are no problem, and all too soon for me, Scott is out the door and headed to work.  I always stand at the door and watch and wave or blow kisses until his car disappears around the corner. Katie usually takes a little longer to get ready, but by 6, the house is almost always quiet again, and I clean up lunch fixings (Usually a sandwich or two, or some of yesterday’s dinner- which no one complains about
eating again, as a general rule!

A Morning Quiet Time

before slipping back upstairs to our room, where I settle myself down on the bed again, pillows propped behind me for some quiet time of my own with God, and to watch the sun complete its rising and to listen and be still in my heart.

Breakfast for me is a quick meal of whatever look good. Cooking for one- myself- does not tend to make me feel the very most creative, and more often than not my breakfast is either fresh fruit and bread or cereal, or something like “tea and biscuits”. Over breakfast, I plan out my day, and try to keep myself motivated to be efficient with my time.

I live an ordinary life. My day is much like hundreds of other newly-wed girls out there, and I have my struggles and my strong and weak points with the rest.

For me, getting a good start in the morning is essential. I can accomplish twice as much as usual bright and early in the morning. The new sunshine and fresh, cool air makes me feel energetic and motivated, and by afternoon, I’m winding down and switch to a more relaxed approach to housework, and admittedly, afternoons make cooking much more interesting than cleaning, especially when I know that my people will be home and (we hope) hungry.

Menus & Shopping lists

Today my “to do” list included the normal week-day adventures in conquering laundry mountains, de-wrinkling clothing, polishing the bathroom,  banning left-over-for-too-long food from the fridge, sweeping floors and racing some deadlines for writing and for my current web design job. I had hopes of baking a few dozen little cookies to toss in the freezer (as frozen cookies seem to be the favorite sweet thing for certain guys in this house. Not that certain girls don’t ever eat frozen cookies either…)

I like lists and being organized. I like a perfectly orderly and tidy house. I like planning ahead and getting things done on time. But my lists and plans don’t always turn out like I’d envisioned. Unexpected things come up. Guests drop in. Someone isn’t feeling well and needs some extra help. Work takes longer than I could have ever imagined, and some days just are nothing other than murphy days when nothing at all seems to go “right” and one can laugh or cry, but in the end just make the best out of it.

Realistically, I am not always a perfect house keeper and homemaker, though I desire with all my heart to be just that. Sometimes that lack of matching the mental image of perfection that I have set as my own personal goal is due to circumstances beyond my control. Then I learn to flex a little and grow a little. Sometimes it’s because I’ve gathered up onto my plate more than I can chew- and more than the priorities that God put on the plate that morning- Other times, it is simply my own lack of keeping on track, and letting myself become distracted, lax and pretty much just lazy.

Some of my ordinary days are probably mundane, but the little secret for me has always been to look for the best and the bright spots in every day- no matter how beautiful, how common, or how dark it might be. Thus my “ordinary” life  is a beautiful, happy life that I wouldn’t trade for anything, even on the rainy days!

On this ordinary day, Laundry always comes first- it can take care of its self once I start it, and I can occupy those minutes with other things. So, washer swishing and drying humming, I ran out behind the house to the garden- now a virtual jungle of weeds- and tomato plants. Digging in the garden is one of the joys of country-living that I treasure. I grew up with my hands in the dirt, and after a few years of not being able to grow, this year has been happy for

Baby Squash Plants in the Spring

me-though the garden has fared poorly. I staked up some of the bigger plants and foraged for more stakes for the rest in the woods. I know it’s not a good idea to count tomatoes before they are ripe and are in your picking basket, but in spite of the deer helping themselves to a huge portion of my garden this year, I find that I can’t help but be a little hopeful that at least a few of the beautiful green tomatoes I counted out there will both ripen and last until I can pick them, instead of the pesky creatures who love produce as much as we.

One thing is official around here: while the deer may have a fondness for practically everything from potato tops and okra flowers to ripe tomatoes and baby cucumbers, they do not seem very much interested in the summer squash beds, and nearly every day I can haul in a few squashes to supplement our dinners. Actually, with half a dozen in the fridge and half a dozen near ready to pick, it is more likely that summer squash is our dinner, rather than a type of side-dish supplement to the meal. In any case, our grocery bill has gone down and our squash consumption has gone up, and I count it a very good thing, considering that we both love steamed summer squash, and N&K, who eat dinner with us every night, at least eat it, because at this rate, if the weather holds out, by next week it’ll be more than a few a day, and we’ll be wishing we had someone to leave “gifts” of squash for before long!

I always am slightly amused though, how days differ from my “mental list” nearly

Our Kitchen

always in some ways, and while I did spend time in the garden, and did get quite a bit of laundry done, I ended up doing computer work much more than I had intended or wanted, did not get the shopping list compiled, forgot to ask Scott to pick up a water filter, and suddenly realized that it was later than I thought (Happy realization, that- for my favorite moment of the day comes sometime mid to late afternoon on most days), and in the scramble to get the biscuits ready to go in the oven and the gravy done there were a few mishaps and flour seemed to enjoy dusting my recently-washed floors and counters with a little powdery white.

I was stirring up the biscuits when I heard that sound I’ve training my ears to pick up- the quiet sound of crunching gravel and every time I hear it, my heart skips a beat and I run to the window to see just who is arriving home, as more than once I’ve nearly rushed pell-mell to to the door only to find it is Katie, who while I am always happy to see, was not who I was expecting or really wanting

Summertime Love

to see right then. This time, when that white Subaru pulls in front of the window to turn around, I know the happiest moment of the day has come and I temporarily abandon my biscuit making to rush to the door and shall spare you the details of our greeting, but I hope that my heart always skips a beat when the door opens and I see my man.

Our afternoons are definitely wind down times for all of us. Scot had a long and busy day, Katie had a stressful one, and dinner is served with bits of work-news and random conversation about the day.  This dinner was also a “remembering” dinner, as Katie and I recalled and laughed over the antics of her little brothers and memories from our Alaskan Childhood days when we never dreamed of marrying brothers.

Full Moon

More often than not, dinner come to an end, and dishes cleared up, we sit at the table and talk awhile. Today, with Nick gone for a couple days, Katie wandered off to her room to read.  Scott had some computer work to do, I had to finish folding up a comforter and some sheets, and before we know it,  early-to-bed as is our custom has slipped by a little too far, and we haven’t gone out for our
evening walk nor have I managed to store any cookies in the freezer, but the day has been happy, and beautiful and best of all, just as we began it, we close it with the One who is the first cord in our three-cord rope: thanking Him for protection, for blessings, and for the beauty that He pours upon us every new day.

Pictures are random ones taken over the summer- I didn’t manage to take any on the day that I wrote about.

The rest of the week…

• Monday at the Farm in the City by Lanier
• Tuesday in the Writing Life by Elisabeth
• Thursday at the Little Pink House by Gretchen (with series introduction)
• Friday in Sunny Southern California by Ashleigh
• Saturday at Castleberry Farms by Jeannie
• A Peek into Your Day by YLCF Readers

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

Whether it is a friend in need of encouragement, a lonely neighbor without Christ, a phone call with someone who just needs to be prayer at that moment, a friend in tears at church, a young girl who needs to see a home where Jesus is the center… the opportunities are endless. And none of this is counting the most important daily ministry we have to our families–loving our husbands, raising our children to the glory of God.

This morning I read an old poem that I’ve been familiar with since I was a little girl. As a wife and mother now, it holds so much more meaning to me.

Isn’t There a Noble Task?

“There seems to be so little that I can do for Thee,
Isn’t there a noble task that You would have for me?
Something that the world may know I’m busy for my King;
Beside the dull and daily tasks that every new day brings?

For how can stacks of dishes and piles of dirty clothes,
Tackled and completed, ever tell Christ rose?
Or stories, mud and band-aids; read, cleaned up, applied,
Tell the world of Jesus, my Saviour, crucified?”

“Oh, busy, busy mother, your task is very great.
I’ve given you eternal souls to teach and educate.
Not in worldly wisdom, in fame or honor grand,
But how to love and serve My cause, and seek that better land.

For as you tackle homey tasks with children by your side,
You have the greatest privilege, within their hearts to hide
Bits of goodly treasures from My Holy Word,
Which many mighty men of faith first from their mothers heard.

Oh, busy, busy mother, I need you where you are.
Your task at hand is very great, you need not travel far.
Oh love and teach these little souls, and help them grow to be
Steadfast within the simple faith, to be of use to Me.”

-from Heart Throbs of Motherhood by Miriam Druist

written August 2006

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

I just love Mondays. Call me crazy, but I really do. There is just something about the sense of order that it brings, the reigning in after the comparative slackness of the weekend, that motivates me afresh every week. I like to bring my house back into order, and with it, myself, reorienting around my priorities within the blessed boundaries of routine. Ever since I have been married I have structured my weeks loosely around a basic schedule: laundry and finances on Monday, shopping on Tuesday, baking and ironing on Wednesday, social commitments and projects on Thursday and cleaning on Friday. And after ten years, these basic parameters are so ingrained I don’t even have to think about them. It’s like my mother told me once, you need a routine so that you’ll have something to be flexible from! And while I’ve seen these words proven true over and over again, no matter how crazy a particular season or week or day might be, I always have my little schedule to welcome me back to sanity when things settle down.

This Monday was just a good, normal, at home day. It seems that over the past month or so I’ve either been traveling (good!) or sick (bad!) so a quiet day of washing and folding and sorting and filing has been even more of a joy than it usually is. Today started just as every other one does, Monday or not, with a cup of tea brought to me in bed by my obliging husband, who has learned after ten years that I can sleep right through an alarm and only begin to assume a semi-conscious state after a draught or two of The Stimulant has passed my lips. I have my devotions upstairs with another cuppa, and am inclined to linger until I hear Philip close his closet door downstairs, signaling the next stage of the morning routine: the barn.

This morning was cool and sweet—almost like fall—and the dogs were so happy about it and the impending breakfast that our appearance heralded that they pranced and capered alongside me from the gate to the very door of the feed room. While they were eating, Philip did the mucking and I employed myself with the all-important task of petting the sheep and giving them each little scratches and rubs in the places they like best—behind the ears and on the tops of their heads. Everyone seemed more interested in that than in going out to pasture—as is the case many mornings, we walked out with them into the tall, dew-wet grass, with the accompanying attendants of little black cats and big white dogs. Only, Puck and Pansy, my utterly spoiled Nubian goats, trailed back to the barn with us after we left the sheep in the pasture, and stood at the fence wailing in protest when we left them in the barnyard to go back up to the house for our own breakfast.

Seven cats, another dog, a fish and two hives of honeybees later, it was time to feed my husband and get him out the door to his morning meeting. The only problem with his nourishing breakfast of hot oatmeal and fresh blueberries was that he had to take it in a mug to eat in the car, as he spent his actual breakfast time fiddling with the html in my YLCF post of the day. But I made his lunch in the meantime—a turkey sandwich on fresh homemade bread—and took the chicken out of the freezer for supper, thinking all the while of what one of my newly-married friends had said to me once upon a time: “When I get up in the morning, my first thought is, ‘What are we going to have for breakfast?’ And my second thought is, ‘What am I going to fix my husband for lunch?’ And my third thought is, ‘What am I going to cook for supper?’” I related with a happy little inward laugh this morning.

As soon as Philip was off I fell to my Monday chores. I got the laundry going, watered the plants, cleaned out the fridge, and sat down to plan my meals for the week since I’ll be shopping tomorrow. After that I spent some time at the computer, paying bills, answering emails, checking up on the budget. I rewarded myself for all my diligence (I may love Mondays but I hate paying bills!) with a turkey sandwich of my own (perhaps mildly precipitated by a reminder call from my husband to actually, you know, eat lunch). One chapter in my book over said sandwich, and then one of my indispensable little cat naps, without which I’d not make it through the day, with my faithful calico companion, Josephine, curled up at my feet.

The afternoon was one of those in which the phone literally rings off the hook. I forced myself to actually sit down in a rocking chair on the front porch to enjoy both the surprisingly lovely eighty-degree weather and a couple of conversations with beloved friends, rather than stomping around the house ‘being productive’ as I am usually tempted to do under similar circumstances. I had a wonderful talk with precious Gretchen, who, I am happy to report, confessed herself to be in the hammock in the yard with her feet up like any good pregnant lady should be.

When I got off the phone with her, I realized that my husband should be making his appearance soon, as yet another quick call confirmed. So I made a dash to fold up the remaining laundry waiting in the big French market basket I use, and to make up the bed with sheets fresh from the dryer, warm and soft. That done, I started dinner—I am unabashedly old-fashioned, but I really do love it when the aromas of whatever’s cooking waft out to greet Philip as he comes up the front walk of an evening (ideally not the smell of burned things spilling over onto the element! ). Tonight I stuffed a chicken with onions, tucking some fragrant garlic cloves under the skin and topping it off with a lovely bouquet garni of fresh herbs from the garden: rosemary, savory, purple sage and thyme. Philip’s favorite mashed potatoes, made with little red new potatoes still in their skins and sliced fine, later blended with a little butter and milk and plain yogurt with a dash of rosemary for good measure, and a simmering pot of butter beans completed the meal.

It did smell quite temptingly when he got home, but as it was a little later than usual we decided to go ahead and put all the barn babies to bed before eating ourselves. The reverse of the morning, tucking everyone into their stalls at night, all safely gathered in and secure, is truly one of my favorite parts of the day. Tonight Puck and Pansy saw me coming from far across the terraced pasture, and with a whimper and a neigh they came running, bringing their sheep siblings with them. When I entered the barnyard there was a regular small stampede—goats, sheep and dogs all vying for my attention and literally knocking me over in the effort. Philip found me seated on the ground with a loving host all around me: licking my face, tugging at my hair with strong little teeth, poking long Nubian noses inquisitively into mine. I managed to disentangle myself and we performed the evening routine: shooing the last chickens back into their run and shutting the door for the night, searching for renegade eggs in the barn, laying out fresh straw for the babies and mixing grain. Puck and Pansy always stand expectantly on the step of the feed room, licking their lips and nibbling imaginary savories at the very idea of the coming grain, while the sheep hold back politely, knowing their turn will come next.

Once the animals were fed and mineral trays restocked and water buckets changed out—and stall doors bolted against the occasional breakout which can become a real free-for-all—we fed the dogs and played with them for a while. I think it’s their favorite time of the day, as well. Diana always looks so sad when we finally leave her at the gate for the night, but Juno has usually already assumed her post of regal watch, enormous white paws folded, noble head erect, ears pricked to the slightest sound. We chased our Aussie Caspian back across the yard up to the house in the bat light, and came in to a kitchen cozy with the welcoming scents of our dinner.

We always enjoy a good recap of the other’s day over supper, and Philip invariably gets a play-by-play of who I’ve talked to and what I’ve done and what I’ve been thinking as I’ve gone about my home duties. (He already knew I’d talked to Gretchen for he’d heard her voice on the answering machine!) I love these dinner talks, this acquainting of one another with the hours we’ve spent apart, and the long, rambling trails of ideas that usually stem from them. And afterwards the last cleaning of the day—the very smell of the rose countertop spray that I use makes me think somnolent thoughts—and the last polishing of the kitchen to greet me with a cheerful aspect in the morning. I really am a nut about leaving a clean kitchen behind me when I go to bed. I think it probably stems from the days when we were remodeling and I switched on the light in the mornings for eight months to bare sub-flooring and makeshift plywood countertops! I almost want to blow a kiss at my kitchen now, I love it so much, and it’s been nine years since the great overhaul!

Just a simple, homely day, nothing spectacular or particularly interesting, beyond the kitten my friend Ashley found in a potted plant in her backyard or the excitement of wrapping up a few last details of our upcoming trip to England or a package from L.L. Bean in the mail! But that was the beauty of it—just an ordinary day. As I was wiping the counters after supper and putting the last things away, I reflected that this was just the very kind of day that I used to imagine as a girl when I dreamed about my future. The life of wife and homemaker is very dear to me, and I consider it an honor and a joy to create a home that Philip wants to come back to at night. Not all Mondays are as simple and straightforward as this; candidly, most aren’t. But the ones that are serve to remind me with a quiet joy why I love what I have chosen to do with my life, and why I’d not change my place with that of a queen.

photography copyright Griffin Gibson 2009

The rest of the week…

• Tuesday in the Writing Life by Elisabeth
• Wednesday in North Idaho by Chantel
• Thursday at the Little Pink House by Gretchen (with series introduction)
• Friday in Sunny Southern California by Ashleigh
• Saturday at Castleberry Farms by Jeannie
• A Peek into Your Day by YLCF Readers

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

Mondays are our “day off”—meaning our family-owned and operated produce and antique store is closed.  Usually, I try to do laundry on Mondays—but this last Monday we were making a produce delivery to Town, and a trip to Town with a capital T always ends up taking an entire day, no matter how hard we try—especially being that we only make it there about once a month.  So this week I did laundry on Tuesday—it dried quickly, the weather warming more each day this week!  Wednesday found Dad and Marlys at Farmer’s Market as always, while Ruth and I helped Merritt open the store for the day.  And that brings us to today, Thursday, July 16, 2009…

Between our big Buff Orpington rooster and the little person kicking inside me, I usually wake up frequently from about four on each morning.  This morning, though, Merritt and I had both managed to fall back asleep until nearly seven-thirty.  At which point we began our day like we try to every morning: whichever of us is most awake prays, then Merritt gets up to feed the chickens (the rooster’s crow having intensified since 4 a.m.) and move irrigation pipe, while I relish a few more moments in bed, wishing (as I squint, my glasses being far from the bedside) that I kept a large print Bible on hand for early mornings.

When Merritt makes it out of our one-room house and off to work without Ruth awakening, I either steal a few more moments of sleep, pull on a sweatshirt to go water my sunflowers and herbs, or sneak outside with my laptop in hand to try to check email and read the day’s blog posts.  (Lately our next-door wireless “fast internet connection” has been reaching nearly to our front door, which has made keeping up on my internet to-do list much easier!)  This morning I opted for the laptop, and nearly finished writing a post for ylcf.org.

The house quiet, Ru slept in until eight-thirty.  Our night owl needed it after yesterday!  The first thing she usually does upon getting up is to stumble bleary-eyed to her high chair.  No cuddling, no potty—nothing until she’s eaten.  This morning was no exception.  We shared banana and cold cereal for breakfast.  Then Ru snuggled with Pooh Bear while Mommy got ready for the day.  Just about then, Merritt got home from moving irrigation pipe, ready to grab a quick bite of breakfast and go open the store.  Poor Daddy, with a pregnant wife and a growing daughter he rarely has company for breakfast when he’s changing pipe each morning!

The big “to-do” on my list today was going to town (town with a small t) to get our church directories printed.  Somehow it always takes a while to get out the door with Ruth, and this morning was no exception.  I ran back in the house at least three times, to grab cheese sticks, some board books, and her blankie—none of which one can go to town without!  (She already had her pink toy cell phone in hand so she was good to go on that account—a girl’s got to be just like Mom, you know!)

First we had to go over to Papa and Nanna’s to get a box to mail a wedding present to newlywed friends (congratulations to Garret and Melinda—wish we could have been there!).  When we got there, my sister-in-law Marlys decided she’d join us in our trip to town.  While I packaged up the box, Ruth begged some fresh fruit smoothie off her “Auntie Mouse,” but got more on her shirt than in her mouth.  Such things disturb my perfectionist daughter in the extreme!  When we finally got out to the store, her daddy wanted to know what all the crying was about that he’d heard on the telephone a few minutes earlier!  We gave him goodbye kisses, convincing Ruth we’d come back to work at the store later that day (as much as she likes to press the pink “Total” button that makes the cash drawer come out, we needed to get to town—and she was missing a shirt!).  A quick stop at home to grab a clean shirt for Ru, and we were finally on our way.

In addition to the print shop, our list included two banks, the post office, the library, the glass shop to get screen for our new screen door, the week’s sale items at the grocery store (orange juice and shredded wheat—plus the weekly purchase of 2 gallons of whole milk!), and then biding our time at the thrift stores until the church directories were read to pick up.  It was easy to spend extra time in town today because it is the week of the annual sidewalk sale.  However, I must admit, that very fact made me kiss my husband a few extra times before we left, and drive a little more carefully.

It was just three years ago, this same week in July, that Marlys and I came into town on Thursday to sell baskets at the sidewalk sale.  While we were in GoodWill today I heard the fire siren go off, and I couldn’t help myself—I grabbed my phone to call my husband.  But then I saw it was twelve o’clock.  The fire siren always goes off at noon, Gretchen! Later in the afternoon, though, it went off again, and soon the ambulance drove past.  Marlys and I looked at each other, knowing exactly what the other was thinking.  Three years ago, we’d watched that same ambulance drive down the same main street headed the same direction.  And three years ago, it had been going to get my brand-new husband, Marlys’ brother, after a welding accident on the farm shattered his leg and burnt his arm.  “I just talked to Mom and Dad, Gretchen, don’t worry,” Marlys reassured me today.

But I called Merritt anyway.  Just to hear his voice.  Just to know he was okay.  Some memories are still too fresh to handle that much deja vu. My hubby reassured me he’d hardly moved from his chair behind the counter at the store.  And I told him all about the finds we were making.  While my heart was quieted in thankfulness that he was still okay.

Marlys had found a maternity shirt for me at GoodWill—not on the maternity rack where I was looking, of course!  She’d noticed the “Bundle of Joy” tag on a shirt stuck right in with the regular shirts, and it fit me perfectly (not to mention being 50% off for the sidewalk sale!).  Then Marly hit the jackpot at the yarn store, finding enough sale yarn to make a sweater (just the thing one wants on a ninety-degree day like today!) and I found leftover greeting cards for 50 cents each, giving me ample opportunity to replenish my dwindling supply of birthday cards.

Quite done with our shopping, with a very tired and hot little girl, not to mention feeling rather tired and warm ourselves, we called the print shop.  But when they said to come back at two, they meant 2 p.m. sharp!  So with fifteen more minutes to kill we stopped in at the other thrift store.  I found a hardcover first edition of Born Free which I’m quite sure is worth at least the dollar I paid for it!

Our church directories finally in hand, we took Marlys back to her house then stopped at the store to see Merritt.   Ruth hand-delivered the apple fritter we’d bought him (he’d told us to get lunch if we needed it—aren’t apple fritters lunch?).  But the girl must be farm-raised, because she much preferred cherries to the doughnut!

As is the case more often than not in the midst of summer, lunch was quite late.  And since longtime family friend and now next-door neighbor Katie usually cooks dinner for us Wednesdays and Fridays (our Farmer’s Market days), most welcome as her help is, it leaves us with few leftovers in the fridge on Thursday!  Ruth ate mashed potatoes and cheese and nibbled on an onion.  I ate mashed potatoes, cheese, and some thin slices of sweet onion on top of two sliced tomatoes fresh from the farm garden.  Merritt got home by three—Marlys having grabbed a quick bite and gone out to the store to give him a break.  I fried up some summer squash to go with his potatoes—no danger of ruining his appetite for dinner this afternoon!

Then it was nap time for everyone.  Or at least so we told Ruth!  In a one-room house, it is hard to convince a little person to go to sleep when everyone else is up!  As soon as she’d finally started breathing evenly (after some dancing around on the mattress just to settle down after that stressful day in town—plus some standing on tip-toes to spy on Dad and Mom!), Merritt and I snuck outside to put a new screen in the wooden screen door he’d found at an auction a couple months ago and had all painted (red to match the chicken coop and soon-to-be-painted front door) and ready to go.  Putting in screen is more stressful than one might think, but we finally got it done without it breaking!

Merritt went back to close the store for the day.  I watered my herb garden, having noticed my sage wilting despite the soaking rain three days previous.  Then a certain little girl woke up from her too-short, too-late nap in rather sad spirits.  Our daily “best-laid plans” of having the house picked up, dishes washed, and dinner on the table when Daddy gets home from work went quite awry today.  I’d planned a light, no-bake dinner considering the late lunch.  But after Ru clung to me, having to sit on the counter next to the sink while I washed eggs (they always lay in “hen’s dozens” of eleven instead of baker’s dozens of thirteen!) and dishes (Ru was far past her usual trick of grabbing my legs to turn me around to face her instead of the sink!), I got the chicken pieces cooked up in soy sauce in the skillet, then threw them in the freezer to cool…and we sat down and read Pooh books until Daddy got home.

I chopped up the fresh bok choy while listening to a speed-read version of Eloise Wilkin’s Poems to Read to the Very Young. Ru turns the pages so quickly you only get about two lines of each poem read before it’s on to the next! Saving aside a few pieces of chicken for Ruth, I tossed the bok choy and chicken with some sesame dressing, sesame seeds, salt, and pepper, and we sat down to dinner.

While I did dishes, Ruth “helped” Daddy hang the screen door. (She thought she should write on the door just like Daddy had when he was marking where to screw the handle on!) Then we all came inside to cool down a bit with a bowl of ice cream. Merritt read from Frog and Toad Together—having appropriately landed on the story of Frog and Toad eating melting ice cream cones! Tonight Ruth decided that sharing ours wasn’t enough—she got out her own bowl (now in the bottom drawer where she can reach them—the original idea being that she’d learn to help set the table, but it has turned more into a way to ask for food without talking!) and opened the silverware drawer in obvious need of a spoon. After her bite’s worth was gone, she brought her bowl back to us showing its empty state. After one more bite, she proceeded to swirl the spoon around in the bowl to get a bit more flavor on it, then licking it and swirling it again!

All sticky with ice cream, Ru and her rubber ducky took their nightly shower, which cooled them both off considerably (at least Ru—I rather guess the ducky was cooler before the shower started!). Then Merritt headed out to change the irrigation in the alfalfa fields once again—a twice daily ritual for most of the summer (pretty much whenever he’s not cutting or baling those same fields!) that takes anywhere from two to four hours out of the day, depending on how it goes. Now I’m hoping that my too-tired little girl, fortified with a sip of milk, another hug, and covered once again with her blankie, will settle down to sleep before her daddy gets home—otherwise bedtime will be stretched out even later once again.

And I’m spending my evenings like I spend most of them—watching the fields to catch a glimpse of my husband, waiting to see the lights of his vintage truck driving home. Sometimes it’s in the hammock, sometimes it’s in this lawn chair catching a bit of an internet connection, sometimes it’s from the window. But always I’m thanking God for another day…another day with the ones I love…another day here in our little once-pink house…

Tomorrow brings us to Friday, the day we prepare our CSA boxes for pickup, and another Farmer’s Market. I’m sure I’ll be helping Merritt at the store a good part of the day, while Ruth takes a nap at Nanna’s and helps Aunt Marlys bake bread for the CSA boxes. Saturdays are a bit slower because we’re not scattered in so many directions—but the store is usually busier than ever. Then comes Sunday, the day of rest—it’s fellowship with the believers at church and then a Sunday afternoon nap before we start it all over again on Monday…

The rest of the week…

• Monday at the Farm in the City by Lanier
• Tuesday in the Writing Life by Elisabeth
• Wednesday in North Idaho by Chantel
• Friday in Sunny Southern California by Ashleigh
• Saturday at Castleberry Farms by Jeannie
• A Peek into Your Day by YLCF Readers

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

The Pleasure of Purity – Few books contain a chapter with as much power to impact your perspective of marriage as Feminine Appeal.  Carolyn Mahaney packs the truths from all my favorite books on marriage into one chapter entitled “The Pleasure of Purity.”  But that doesn’t mean single ladies should skip it!  The chapter on purity has plenty to say on fleeing temptation—and that applies to everyone.  Plus, it will give you a beautiful vision of the way God designed marriage to be, so very different—and so much better—than what our culture promotes.  (Wives, look for a more in-depth review coming to the YLCF’s Just for Married Ladies blog.)

Our conquest of sin begins with a deliberate resolve to set our hearts and minds on things above.  As we contemplate what Christ has done for us, we will be compelled to pursue purity for His glory. (pg. 90)

The Honor of Working at Home – In a chapter which could cause many in today’s world to bristle, Carolyn deals biblically and honestly with the call to be busy working at home.  She is quick to point out that feminism has failed to deliver as promised—yes, it has done its job of undermining the role of a homemaker, but neither has it given women happiness or fulfillment in the work force (pg. 103).  Yet if you’ve ever paused to come up with some other answer to the question of your occupation than the happy declaration of “wife and mother”, then you know how many of us are still affected by the poison of feminist thought patterns.  But the management of our homes—under the guidance and support of our husbands—is designed to give us happiness and fulfillment!  Carolyn comes down strongly on the idea of “co-responsibility”, making it very clear that the man’s primary role is provider while the woman’s primary role is manager of the home.  Yet she also uses the woman of Proverbs 31 to illustrate that it is quite biblical for a woman to contribute to the household income.  I thought her exhortation to single women was especially applicable to many of the readers here at YLCF (as is Carolyn’s article at CBMW.org and this article from Boundless):

I can understand how easy it would be to make the school or the workplace the priority in your life.  Yet the call to make the home a priority extends to all women, no matter your season in life.  Even now you can discover ways to make your residence a home, cultivate the domestic arts, and prayerfully consider how to use your home for outreach and care to others. (pp. 104-105)

The Rewards of Kindness – Carolyn’s definition of kindness is “a sincere desire for our husbands’ and children’s happiness.”  And just as self-control (nor in fact any of the seven attributes of a godly woman) is not attainable in our own strength, kindness can not become a part of our lives if we do not rely fully upon the help of the Holy Spirit.  Highlighting the hindrances to kindness—anger, bitterness, and judging—Carolyn also provides the biblical solutions.  Being kind brings us a reputation for goodness: What are we known for?  How are we described by others?  Is it our kindness or our style of clothing which attracts more attention?

This reputation for goodness begins at home.  At the heart of our commission to do good is the well-being of our family members.  Our husbands and children should be the primary beneficiaries of our good works. (pg. 128)

The Beauty of Submission – In the final trait listed in Titus 2:3-5 we find the most debated: submission.  But again, Carolyn handles it with candid grace.  She clearly states that, “Scripture makes no allowance for male dominance or male superiority…  Neither is submission a position of inferiority or demeaning in its application” (pg, 137).  She also makes it clear that the submission is not to all men—or even any other man who might seem more worthy of honor or respect than our husband—no, our submission is to be only to our own husband, then to God.   And nothing is a more powerful commendation of the gospel to an unbelieving husband than a submissive wife.

If we embrace [God’s] plan for our lives and purpose to obey His commands, He will develop in us the beauty of submission.  He will enable us to trust Him to lead our husbands to lead us. (pg. 152)

And the preface to it all in Titus 2?  It’s a “call to action for the older women,” says Carolyn.  (Which is why the expanded version of Feminine Appeal includes study questions for groups large or small.)  Paul commands us: “Teach what is good, and so train the young women” (Titus 2:3b-4a).  And as we state in the YLCF values, every woman is an “older woman” to someone.  It is your responsibility, it is my responsibility.  Let’s not only teach what is good, let’s live it out in our day to day life, commending the Gospel for not just the world, but also our family, to see.

(Note to parents: “The Delight of Loving My Husband” is a fabulous chapter for readers of all ages.  The only chapter moms of younger teens may want to preview is “The Pleasure of Purity”—but even that is very tastefully written and includes issues that moms need to be discussing with their daughters as they reach the appropriate age.)

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

The world doesn’t judge us by our theology; the world judges us by our behavior.  People don’t necessarily want to know what we believe about the Bible.  They want to see if what we believe makes a difference in our lives. Our actions either bring honor to God or misrepresent His truth. (pg. 27)

How are women to commend God’s truth through their daily lives?  Paul lists seven areas in Titus 2:3-5, which Carolyn highlights in seven chapters.

The Delight of Loving My Husband – I found very thought-provoking Carolyn’s differentiation between how wives are commanded to phileo their husbands versus how men are commanded to agape their wives.  Phileo refers to a tender, affectionate “friendship” kind of love.  The very affection and friendship upon which a marriage thrives is that which, Carolyn points out, in our busy (agape) service to our husbands we often forget to give them!  Prizing him, cherishing him, enjoying him—these create a love that lasts.  Carolyn encourages wives to practice thinking tender thoughts of their husbands.  Do we spend the same amount of time now admiring his good qualities that we did before we were married?  If not, shame on us—for now we have even more opportunity to observe his admirable traits!  According to Carolyn, changing our thought patterns is a key for keeping the passion and excitement in marriage.

If we find that our affection for our husband is waning or has subsided altogether, then we do not need to look any further than our own hearts.  Where sin is present, warm affection dissipates.  Anger, bitterness, criticism, pride, selfishness, fear, laziness—all vigorously oppose tender love.  This love cannot survive in a heart that harbors sin. (pg. 38)

The Blessings of Loving My Children – Again, Carolyn points out how important the agape command is in the way we care for our children.  We spend our days attending to their every need—but are we enjoying them, delighting in those little moments that so quickly are gone?  Are we praying for them as we care for them?  This chapter was filled with so many “highlightable” sentences and convicting paragraphs—more truth is packed in those few pages than in the majority of the books on parenting filling the shelves of Christian book stores.  Carolyn does more than just remind us to have fun with our children, however—she shows the powerful potential a mother has to influence her children, reminding us of the highest aim of parenting:

Our goal is not that our children be happy, fulfilled, and successful.  Granted, we may desire these things for them.  But our highest objective should be that our children would repent from their sins, put their trust in Jesus Christ, and reflect the gospel to the world around them. (pp. 60-61)

The Safety of Self-Control – Eating, sleeping, thinking, and feeling—all to the glory of God?  Plenty of conviction in this chapter for each of us.  But Carolyn reminds us that we can do nothing through our own strength.  His strength is made perfect in our weakness—when we admit our total dependence upon Him.  And the only guaranteed way to develop self control, Carolyn says, is to meet daily with God:

When we meet with God, we can find peace in the midst of trying circumstances, an eternal perspective where we have lost sight of the truth, and power to fight our battle against sin…  We should eagerly and consistently respond to our Savior’s invitation to come and meet with Him. (pg. 78)

The Gospel has the power to change our lives.  Are we willing to be truly transformed by Titus 2?  Nothing will commend the Gospel more.

Watch for the rest of the Titus 2 traits in the conclusion of the review of my new favorite book—Feminine Appeal—soon.

(Note to parents: “The Delight of Loving My Husband” is a fabulous chapter for readers of all ages.  The only chapter moms of younger teens may want to preview is “The Pleasure of Purity”—but even that is very tastefully written and includes issues that moms need to be discussing with their daughters as they reach the appropriate age.)

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

These past two years have been full of ‘firsts’ for me when it comes to gardens and orchards. Two years ago, passing by the Acheson’s farm which we have all come to know, thanks to Gretchen’s glimpses into life as a Farmer’s wife, I satisfied one little wish- to walk through a corn field. The corn was just as I expected, taller than me, and I do think one could get lost in a corn field, if they really wanted to.

Last year I saw, picked and ate a peach from a tree for the first time. And this was my first time in an orchard of any size, first time to pick a large quantity of fruit, first time to see cherries ripe on a tree. This Alaskan raised girl found what most people who have grown up picking and processing fruit until they have it coming out their ears find to be tedious and mundane, to be quite the thrill. And tree ripened cherries? They’re the best!

I think I could have spent a good long time just wandering through the orchard, taking pictures and admiring the beautiful way the trees are covered with fruit, and the fruit is shaded so well with the leaves, and just soaking it up. But the sun was only getting hotter, and we had a long drive ahead of us and apricots still to pick up in a totally different direction, so instead, we located some ladders (and learned not to turn our backs on them for an instant, or they’d “grow legs” and walk away!) and set to work.

We picked and we ate, and the hours past quite quickly- more quickly than our boxes filled,  though the trees were so loaded that I could stand in one place and fill the whole box up with out hardly moving! The day was complete with a few cherry bombings from above, while I worked on the lower branches, courtesy of my brother in law, Jared, and my mischievous husband. Oh, I can’t say that I didn’t join in a few skirmishes myself, for that matter, though, of course, I only tossed the bad ones back up.

But, in spite of hot sunshine and distractions here and there, at last the boxes did get filled, as did our tummies. And yes, we did pick more than we ate, for our boxes weighed in at just over 108 lbs, making our weight guessing as we picked just about right on. (You’d think Scott had experience in cherry picking, or something…)

The cherries weren’t all for us, or I do think we’d have cherries coming out of our ears two years from now, with just the two of us to consume them. 30 pounds went to another brother and sister in law and are headed to Montana today for more family up there. Some we gave away, some we sold to others who couldn’t go cherry picking, and this morning there were somewhere around 40 pounds in two boxes sitting on the counter waiting for my attention. Of course, I would forget to buy sugar and jar flats yesterday for canning, but in spite of only having the slowest kind of cherry pitter that is made (according to Scott, anyway), I am making progress and have managed to put quite a few quart bags in our little freezer. Space has become an issue, and I’m going to try to can a few quarts with the sugar and flats I do have, and tomorrow, my other sister in law, Alina, who came cherry picking with us, and I are having a joint canning effort, and will hopefully finish all of her cherries and mine, and perhaps, too, get some apricots done up.
I think a part of the fun of picking fruit and growing gardens is the amazing satisfaction it brings when you see your little stash for winter growing. Perhaps it is something built into us ladies that makes the hard work all worth it, but even if I can go down to Walmart and buy already canned goods, I still can’t think of much more enjoyable than doing it myself, or doing it with someone else who loves it as much as I do. In the mean time, we’re enjoying all the cherries we can eat, and thanking God that America still has some fruited plains from which we can harvest, and grow, and gather lessons and glimpses not only of His love, but be reminded of His promise that seed time and harvest will always be- no matter.

It’s another month or so until peaches are on in full swing, and I probably won’t get a chance to pick them, but I’m already looking forward to bringing home a few boxes, and stashing up on what, by then, will be my current favorite fruit of the season, just like the cherries and apricots are top on my list right now.

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

I have been married for nearly 6 years now, and I love being married to my best friend. But I have to say, marriage is work, a continual working at that. When we got married, an older friend told us, “You won’t just float into a spiritual marriage.” And it’s so true. A strong, spiritual, healthy marriage takes the Lord working and changing and molding you individually and together all along the way. Conflicts come whenever you live this closely with another human being.

Is it worth every minute? Absolutely! Is marriage more wonderful than I ever imagined? Yes and then some.

The more you learn now, the better your marriage will be. So here’s a short list of ways you can prepare your heart to be the godly woman of his dreams:

Learn to trust in the Lord with your whole heart. The Lord is the one who will make your marriage great. I want to emphasize this point of trusting in Him because there will be times in your marriage where you and your husband won’t see eye to eye, and it will be hard for you to submit to his leadership. If you have learned to trust in the Lord for all things, it will make it easier to trust the Lord in and through your husband. You won’t have to strive or chafe–you can just trust in the Lord and be at rest, knowing Who is in control.

Learn to live selflessly, to serve. This kind of goes without saying, I suppose, but it is, in my mind, one of the keys to a wonderful marriage. Marriage, and particularly motherhood, require nothing, if not self-sacrifice. Much of our role as wife and mother is simply meeting the needs of those around you. I count it my sacred calling (and privilege, at that) to lay down my life for my husband and children. To invest in their lives. To make my husband great, and my children spiritual warriors for His kingdom. It is all too easy to fall into the trap of wanting to be married to satisfy our longings and our needs, which has the potential to lead to great disappointment. Be careful not to go into marriage with the desire or expectation to be served, rather than to serve. Real love is laying down our lives, and a truly great marriage is built upon (the Lord first and foremost, of course, but also) self sacrifice. Learn to lay down your life, to submit to others (particularly your parents), to invest in others now, to serve your parents, siblings, friends with the love of Christ, and marriage will be but a smooth transition.

Learn to invest your time wisely. In other words, learn to have and stick to priorities. Before I was married, I used to spend a lot of time online–hanging out on message boards, writing e-mails to friends, and chatting with people all over the country. I had plenty of time then, but hindsight is 20-20. I think back now and question what all that time really did for me. Quite honestly, as much as I enjoyed it, I wish I could go back and invest that time more wisely. Not only because there were far better ways that I could have been spending my time, but also because it formed habits for me that have been hard to break. My time isn’t as free these days with a household to manage and little ones to love and train, and yet I have to struggle against the lure of the online world to keep my priorities straight. I wish I had invested more into the relationships around me, in what really matters and counts for eternity–especially now that I live across the country from my family. Learn good habits now of temperance and putting priority on what really matters, and it won’t be as much of a challenge to take on and keep up with the responsibilities that come with a husband, children, and a household. This time before marriage is a very special time, a wonderful opportunity. Enjoy it. Make the most of it. Seek to serve others. Invest in what truly matters, and use every opportunity to prepare yourself to be the best wife and mother you can be. (And that doesn’t include daydreaming!)

Learn to use your money wisely. I wish I had done more of this as a single girl, when $4 lattes were a daily habit. In most cases, young couples starting out are on a very limited budget, if not downright poor. Learning to be frugal now, to save your money, to deny yourself that extra purchase, will be a great blessing to your husband and future budget! And even if your husband is blessed with a great job and you have a big budget to work within, you will still need the wisdom and grace to be good stewards of that money.

Rather than looking for a man, making your lists, and having all sorts of expectations for any potential suitor, focus your attention and prayers on being the girl that a godly man would want to pursue and marry.

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

Feminine Appeal: Seven Virtues of a Godly Wife and Mother is a gem of a book.  The author, Carolyn Mahaney, is a pastor’s wife and mother of four.  After hearing her on the radio a time or two and liking everything I heard, I finally decided I really should find her book—which was written six years ago!  I’m only sorry I didn’t read it sooner, because now it numbers among my absolute favorites.

There were, of course, “the books I didn’t pack”—my stack of favorites I was reading right up until the days before my wedding.  I’ve always been a firm believer that how you think about marriage and what you read about marriage will have a great affect on your marriage.  And I know that the favorites I’ve collected have been largely responsible for the foundation of the very happy marriage we have thus far enjoyed.

Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands hits you right between the eyes, as only Dr. Laura can do.  The basic principles of her book are ones that have had a huge impact on the way I view marriage and men.  But not everyone likes Dr. Laura’s ultra-blunt style.

Created to Be His Helpmeet is chock-full of down-to-earth, practical, every-day application from Debi Pearl.  Her illustrations will be enough to change the way you treat your husband.  But the Pearl’s conservative stance and theological views are enough to prevent some from getting the good out of Created.

For Women Only paints a vivid picture of a man’s day-to-day battle with his eyes that can give women a whole new understanding of their man and his “visual Rolodex.”  Shaunti Feldhahn’s book is excellent, but it far from covers all the aspects of marriage.

Feminine Appeal has it all.  A no-apologies, hard-hitting biblical message—with no crass terms or theological landmines.  It’s a book I am going to recommend to every wife and mom, every older teen girl.  Even the chapter “The Pleasure of Purity” is written in such a tasteful style that it would be the perfect discussion starter for moms and teen daughters.  (Moms, I beg you, please give your daughters a vision for a happy, loving marriage—otherwise, this tabloid society will quickly fill the void!)

If you’ve read Feminine Appeal and want more—especially practical application for you wives—I still highly recommend Proper Care and Feeding of Husbands, Created to Be His Helpmeet, and For Women Only.  Each expands on some of the topics in the authors’ respectively unique ways.  Choose your favorite author of the three and check out her book.  (More detailed reviews of all three can be found at YLCF’s Just for Married Ladies blog.)  But in the meantime, be sure to read Feminine Appeal.

In my mind, Carolyn Mahaney’s book is the Let Me Be a Woman of this decade.  Not that Elisabeth Elliot’s book is out of date—in fact, Carolyn Mahaney frequently quotes Elisabeth as well as many other classic authors, which is one of my favorite elements of Feminine Appeal: all the fabulous quotations!  Read it!

(Watch for a review of Let Me Be a Woman coming soon—in addition to a more in-depth review of Feminine Appeal.)

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

I love Summer. It promises happy times–barefoot days, watermelon feasts and picnics, and it is the season to stock up on Fresh, for winter is coming.

One of my favorite things about summer, besides the clothesline, watermelon, sandals and picnics, is going to Farmer’s Markets. Twice, now, I’ve had the thrill of catching a glimpse of a small sign that told the time and gathering place for one of the most amazing opportunities of the season–the chance to support and to encourage the art of Farming.

Really, Farms and Farmer’s Markets had intrigued me from the time I was a child, and to see those wistful vision of  a tent-like village of stands and stands of a myriad of beautiful things made me giddy and feel as excited as a little girl again.

I love the produce stands. The colors and variety of fresh produce is tantalizing, from the freshly picked corn, to the bunches of basil, baskets of tomatoes and new potatoes and the Rocky Ford melons  and Palisade Peaches of Colorado. It really is a  paradise of color, texture and flavor, and I love to wander through the aisles, cloth bags in hand, and collect the week’s produce, fresh from the farm.

More often than not, you can get the best produce for prices you’d never find in the stores. And I can pretty much guarantee that it tastes so much better, that even if it wasn’t cheaper, it’s fresher, it is better for you–it would still be worth every penny.

Buying locally isn’t just about the fresh and the environment–it keeps the family farms going, and enables those who have the talent and ability to pass on to another generation the legacy of growing and sharing.

I can’t have a farm of my own right now, and I may not have the ability to make a difference in large ways, but I count it my little part–to support a cause I wholeheartedly believe is worth more of our attention.

America was a farming country, and it kept us strong. The hard work didn’t kill anyone. I rather think it saved more than one young person from evil that comes with idle hands and too much ease. We’re starting to lose that vision, and with more and more of our food being brought in from other countries, with sprays and poisons being more and more questionable, it’s time to go back to our roots, to growing our own food, and buying our own products once again. And it’s something I’m thrilled to have my chance to be a part of.

Of course, there’s a whole lot more than just farm products, and I have to say–that Pecan Brittle that the Woodland Park Colorado Farmer’s Market sold last summer was really one of the best sweet treats I’ve had, and that fresh baked European bread with pasta couldn’t be beat.

Not all of us are blessed with Farmer’s Markets, and not every Farmer’s Market has very much to offer. I wonder, though, if more of us didn’t make it a point to support and be a part of Farmer’s Markets across the country, if that wouldn’t change. And just maybe, if you look around, you’ll find your own little paradise in the  your town!

Check your local newspaper, ask around town, take a look at Local Harvest, an excellent farmer’s market resource, and see if there happens to be a u-pick farm or local market near you. And then, go and enjoy it. Remember, it’s first come, first get. Supplies are limited to what the Farmer brought in his truck and those who arrive early get the pick of the crop, so best to get there before the sun gets hot.

You might even want to take that “In Season Only” challenge, and create a seasonal menu using only ingredients found on your trip to the market. You could even take it a step further, and also choose only what’s produced within 100 miles of your front door, but that’s a challenge not to take lightly if you live in the Colorado Rockies, at least.

And if you’ve never really explored the world of freshly grown produce, and have pretty much stuck to the what’s familiar, take a little step out of comfort zone and try something new if you can find it, and if you don’t know what to do with it, ask the Farmers! They may be able to give you a few tips and you may discover you’ve got a new favorite. That’s how I discovered that I should have been a melon farmer.

So, this summer, you’ll find me at my local Farmer’s Market, reveling in the beauty of fresh, beautiful fruits and veggies, stocking up on local produce–and trying not to find any more peanut brittle–thanking God that we still can buy locally grown, locally made. It’s the best way.

Photo of Craig Harding, Summer 2003, after a stop to our very first “real” roadside produce stand on the edge of a farm in North Carolina. That first farm fresh watermelon and the cantelopes and onions we bought didn’t last long at all.

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.

It’s one of those things that takes talent, and I well know, a lot of work to create, but the result is more than worth the effort.

But there are those times when bread making seems daunting and nothing seems to work.

Here’s a few tips I collected from a cookbook and wrote down to remind me of common errors and some simple solutions.  Happy Bread Making!

1. SOUR TASTE

- Water too warm
- Period of Rising has been too long. Punch down and reshape if it has been rising for more than 60 minutes
- Temperature too high while rising
- Poor Yeast

2. DRY OR CRUMBLY

- Too much flour in dough
- Over- Baking

3. HEAVINESS

- Unevenness of Temperature while rising
- Insufficient Kneading
- Old Flour
- Old Yeast

4. CRACKS IN CRUST

- Baking before sufficiently light
- Oven too hot at first

5. TOO THICK A CRUST

- Oven too slow
- Baked too long
- Excess of Salt

6. DARK PATCHES OR STREAKS

- Shortening added to flour before liquid, thus allowing flour particles to become coated with fat before they had mixed evenly with the liquid

7. SOGGINESS

- Too much liquid
- Insufficient baking
- Cooling in an airtight container/plastic bag

8. ILL- SHAPED LOAF

- Not molded well originally
- Too large a loaf for the pan
- Rising period too long
- Loaves flat on top may result from inadequate kneading

9. HOLES IN BREAD

-Dough not sufficiently kneaded (You should knead the dough for at least 8-10 minutes)
- Before shaping dough into loaves, make sure gas bubbles are kneaded out
- Do not let dough proof too long or too fast in the baking pans. When the loaf hits the heat of a preheated oven it will rise a little more.

©2010 Young Ladies Christian Fellowship. All Rights Reserved.