It was Daddy's idea...

The deep summer night had frosted the grass with jewels this morning, and I was slogging through the bed of diamonds back to the house instead of venturing from it.  Last night, Daddy proposed an impromptu campout in the back-field.  Short adventures of that kind get infectious responses on most occasions in our family.  Who can resist a good fire, fresh air, and a front row view of the sunset?  The boys and Daddy pitched and batted arcs over the field, (and sometimes over our heads and sometimes into the pig's paddock), with a baseball while we ladies cheered and commented from the fireside.  We made firebrands out of our marshmallow sticks and then roasted prodigious numbers of the fluffy sugar bombs into various stages of charcoal.  It was proposed we try the same method with a few leftover brats; so we added grease sparks to the night-light of our camp and burnt our fingers and tongues on the most delicious portions of meat I have ever tasted.  Crackling and charred on the outside, juicy-sweet on the inside.  Every topic of conversation around our campfire is broached with the happy assurance that we have all the time in the world to pursue it, unhurried by the demands of a schedule. Family jokes are laughed at without reserve, nobody worries about the state of their hair, we all wear the same scent (wood smoke and bug-spray), and no-one has to say anything to be a necessary presence in the assembly.  I didn't bother taking large numbers of pictures.  Once in a while these times are too sacred and precious for the excessive recording of things best painted on the memory alone.   Tucked into those loud swishy sleeping bags where every move is a waterfall or an express train, we admonish each-other about the coming hours and say good-night a thousand times in funny sleepy voices until someone forgets to reply in the twilight of wakefulness and we drop off to the roar of bullfrogs and the flickering of our dying fire.  God quiets my heart most often when I rest for these short moments of time in His countless blessings of the present common-place.  Contentment, I think, is not having things you want, but truly wanting those things which you have with a passion that makes the smallest gifts cause you to worship the Giver.  He calls it gratitude.

~Isaiah 55:9-12~

“ For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways,
And My thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven, and do not return there,
But water the earth, And make it bring forth and bud,

That it may give seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
So shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth; it shall not return to Me void,

But it shall accomplish what I please, and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.
For you shall go out with joy, and be led out with peace;
The mountains and the hills shall break forth into singing before you,
And all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.”

An Adventure

Well, it was really a picnic (in 34 degree weather) and a two mile trek over hill-country.  What better way is there for good friends and Minnesotans to spend a glorious spring day?

An irresistable challenge...

Down to the river...

Skipping rocks...

Sisters in Christ...

The home-stretch...

Weary and happy!

The boys each got a new snowboard this year...

Sam strapping up!

Garrison showing us how its done... ;)

Charlie preping for a short jump.

Ben pulling up at the bottom!

We are all surprised at how long the boys stay out in the cold.  Our temps have commonly been below zero for a few weeks and the wind-chills have dropped to 35 below in the last few days.  The sub-zero weather doesn't seam to bother the boys though.  They make their own warmth tramping up the hills and sailing down.  Two or three of them even built a rail on the hill in our feild.

December 26th, 2009

Grandma's House in Southwest Minnesota!

The drive was beautiful, if a little perilous!

December 26th is also Grandma's birthday!

Grandma and the cousins...being a little silly for the camera.

Christmas Day in the Morning

The sights.

The smells - Cardamom, Saffron

The memories - Ribbon Candy

The tastes - Sweet Cookies, Sour Grapefruit, Warm and Creamy Rice Pudding, Tender Saffron Rolls

And the strains of Handel's Messiah reminding us of the Savior.

Autumn Prose

The mesmerizing log-splitter convert thick chunks of trees into aromatic wedges for the stove, Sam rushing across the living room floor to catch sight of the grain carts or combines rumbling down the gravel road, the sharp bright autumn sky, tall boots, hearing the boys wake early in the morning to tramp over frosty turf and leaves with their guns on their shoulders, cutting up venison in the kitchen and wrapping it for the freezer, the tip of my nose bright and chilled with the snap of early morning air, the sweet and bitter rush of cold air invading my lungs, two pairs of socks, the way warm food sizzling in the kitchen gets more savory and inviting the colder it is outside, standing in the freshly shorn fields and listening to the fall wind worry the lifeless leaves and trumpet the coming of snow with every breath, planning resplendent and engorging menus with which we will laden the Thanksgiving table, cold fingers and toes to tickle each other’s necks, plants and greenery buttoning up against the cold and retreating into the heart of the earth, the myriad shades of brown, stocking caps, trees, rigid and shadowy pillars, casting severe elaborate shapes on the leaf-mottled floor, the smoky, earthy tang that accompanies the boys every time they come in for dinner, long sleeves, birds singing the autumn symphony, and frost scattering its wonderful lace-work abundantly. Summer is glorious melody, winter is lilting song, spring is ecstatic whistling, but autumn is magnificent harmony.

Autumn Poetry

“Fresh October brings the pheasant,

Then to gather nuts is pleasant.
Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast.”
~Anonymous


“Then came October full of merry glee.”
~Edmund Spenser


“Now Autumn’s fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
And night by night the monitory blast
Wails in the keyhole, telling how it pass’d,
O’er empty fields, or upland solitudes,
Or grim, wide wave, and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in it’s moods,
Than any joy indulgent summer dealt.”
~William Allingham


To Autumn
“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all frit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel, to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the Bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimmed their clammy cells.”
~J. Keats

Frontenac...

We took another drive Sunday...to Frontenac State Park. It was lovely! Lake Pepin shimmered like a glass, since there was very little wind. The frowning bluffs rose up, rugged and beautiful, from the shore like grim and ancient sentries.
We hiked from the heights of one of these great edifices down to the lake shore. Unfortunately, it was getting too dark to take many good pictures, but I did manage a few.

Family hikes are always fun. This one did not look at all difficult or strenuous at first.And of course the views were breathtaking. When we took this picture, there was a train snaking across the valley and sending out its whistle to echo in the hills. The sound of a train whistle always fills me with a strange and wonderful excitement. :) Up there, combined with the landscape spread out like a map, it sent shivers down my spine. Unfortunately, it was only a whisper when Aubrey tried to record it on camera and you couldn't hear it. We were continually amazed at the steep and precipitous nature of the path. At this point, we had no idea we were heading for the lake, or we probably wouldn't have kept walking. :)Along the trail on the face of the bluff were remains of an old stone quarry. Reportedly, the iron ring Aubrey is pulling at was used to hoist and anchor heavy equipment, but I liked to imagine the rock in which it was embedded was the colossal stone door to a forgotten treasure chamber. :)We were amazed when we realized that we had marched all the way down that hill and were on a level with the lake.The water was so inviting that Aubrey and I had to put our feet in.The boys preferred throwing things in the water to going in themselves. They are very good at skipping stones! I took pictures of the skips, and I think this was one of the better shots I got, but you can't see that this stone skipped nearly seven times!The climb back up the bluff was of course daunting, and by the time we reached the top, the sun had nearly set. The last few steps to the top looked like the gateway to heaven in more ways than one. :)Sam spotted this empty June bug skin on our way back to the car. :)

All that walking gave us quite an appetite, so this time Daddy finished off the night by taking us to Lake City for Pizza!

The Valley

This is not exactly "our" valley, but it is close to home and our valley opens into it. I see this view every morning when I take Charlie and Ben to work on the other side of the ridge. It takes my breath away every time I see it, no matter how often. I think that without even realizing it, when I recognize the familiar slopes and swells of this valley, I know I am coming home. Wherever I go, if a place resembles this, I have a moment of home-coming.
The best in this world cannot compare to heaven, but if the good things in it are "foretastes," heaven will be the first place we have never been where our souls will recognize beyond doubt that we have finally come Home.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

~1 Corinthians 13:12

A Day at the Lake

Five of the Six Arrows and Mama spent an afternoon at the cabin on the lake with our good friend Ginny.

The girls enjoyed much of their time on the comfy porch in pleasant conversation or peering through a delightful historical fashion book.
The screened porch is the perfect place to enjoy the lake and the breeze without the accompaniment of bugs.



The boys enjoyed the lake all day, swimming, boating and fishing.

Ben, the official boat man, acted as navigator.

Garrison was firm in his decision to stay on shore, a decision which he believed was "wisest." :)

Aubrey and Sam went along for the ride and fishing.

It was a beautiful day, even though there was a stiff breeze.

I think we all agree that this place is one of the most beautiful spots in the world and we are thankful we were blessed to spend a few restful hours there.