Getting the Perfect Kids' Picture.

We went out Saturday night to drive around looking at Christmas lights.

A favorite place we like to go to has a house back a lane

and these are some fun, Christmas light-lovin', fantasticly festive folks

who set up displays with lights, Christmas blow-up characters,

and old wooden painted characters of every kind.

They open their lane up to the public

and you can drive your car around the circle of their property,

enjoying and pointing out all of the scenes.

They add a few new pieces every year.

This year, we spotted the new pieces.

One was especially obvious and caused quite a stir in our vehicle.

Giggling.

Remarks.

Joking.

I am sure they knew the reactions from kids would be great.

We heard about it most of the ride home

and a few more times before bed.

The next day after church,

I wanted to take some Christmas pictures of the kids.

They were hungry.

 They were not enthused.

Selectively cooperative.

On the edge of grumpy.

Randomly obnoxious.

It was obvious that things were not getting better.

Trouble was moments away 

and I had to think of something to turn things around.

And so, in desperation, I resorted to Saturday night's

reckless humor:

"Okay, guys,

think of last night:

 Santa peeking out of the outhouse."

It certainly wasn't a professional choice of a photography decision...

so I guess I can expect coal in my stocking this year.


But that's okay.
I'll take the coal if I can have these pictures.


Linking up to:
Sugarbeecrafts.com
Theletteredcottage
Abowlfulloflemons.net
Homestoriesatoz.com
Wearethatfamily.com

At the Craft Shows...

An open house Christmas craft sale:

my friend does this every year.

She empties her house of her furniture
and sets up shelving and displays.
She creates things to sell and lets her friends sell from her home
(The above picture was of her friend's things to sell.  My friend paints a lot of the rustic furniture
and signs and things you see in the following pictures or at her BLOG.)
 




We've been friends since we were teenagers;
she is one of the few friends I have had through most of my life that I've stayed in touch with
since the day we met who has also kept the faith.
But it seems we've been crafting and painting for about as long as we've been friends.

She started a blog around when I did,
so we enjoy sharing in that experience,
emailng helpful ideas and encouragement.

It is a grand thing to have such a friend!

However, as I've worked on things to sell this fall,
I have questioned whether this is something I should let go of.

I am almost 40, and something about this birthday has made me look at myself...
what it is I want to accomplish in life,
what are my real goals,
praying for God to show me what He wants me to pursue and do with the next phase of my life.

Introspection seemed necessary;
life has varying stages, and I found this stage very hard for some reason.

Home-schooling has been much more demanding this year
and I don't want to feel so stressed with trying to be with me kids,
enjoy them,
and then work so hard on things to sell.
 

I enjoy making things to sell and feel good about contributing to the family purse.

But there comes a time when you have kids that are so needy of your attention and time
that the financial contributions seem to be teetering on the scale of what is most important.
I find that my kids need me more now at this school age,
much more so than they did when they were babies
because they need me as a person, somebody to talk to and interact with them;
they need to know I am really here for them with my heart,
and I don't want to miss that buried under a pile of pots of paint.

It is hard to let something you love go,
especially when you've put years into it.

The first week my friend was open,
things didn't go well this year.

Items weren't selling.
People weren't coming quite as much as usual.


I have to admit,
as much as I know I need to let this go,
it is hard when you've invested so many hours into something
and you wonder if you're going to make anything for the sacrifice you have made,
especially when the sacrifice has seemed so high this time around.

I had a goal this year,
as I do every year.

My husband gave me money for a new camera for my anniversary gift
because he knew how much I really wanted one.

It is a nice camera, one I never dreamed I'd ever own.

I hope to use it for a lot of things in the future.

But my goal for the craft sales this Christmas
was to make the money we had used to buy the camera.

With home-schooling taking up so much of my time, this seemed like a pretty large goal;
but I wanted to use up a lot of the supplies I had waiting in the attic
since I knew that this might be the last year I would put this much into the craft sales,
at least for the years to come that I need to have my attention here, in my home.

I tried to not let it bother me.

"It's Yours, God," I prayed.
"I'm willing to let this go and do whatever it is You show me I need to do.
Just show me what that is.
If this is your way of showing me it more directly,
I admit it will be hard, but I'll deal with it."

On the last day of her open house,
my friend sent me an email in the evening.

"This was one amazing Day! We had over 100 people come through today--which is a high for us.We had a record high of sales for one day today. We made more today than we did the last 7 days!"

She told me my total earnings.

It was 4 times what she had told me 2 days before.
My sales at both her sale and the other open house I had crafts in
would make the goal of the money for the camera.

 I have heard people question the reality of God.

Certainly creation shouts his praise
and the Bible spells out His story.

But sometimes, in the little details of our lives,
the small trials we face, the questions that invade the little spaces of our moments
and pursuits,
when the face of God appears through the fog and you hear His whisper in
to the quiet recesses of the soul,
to those places that weigh heavy but very few people even know they are there,

it is these peculiar treasures that invite the realization of His intimate care.

The Grandest of fine artists feels the joy of creation, the mixture of the hues,
the satisfaction of feeling that the work done is a worthy effort,

and He cares.


Linking Up to:
Missmustardseed.com
Tatertotsandjello
FunkyjunkinteriorsHomespunhappenings
alittleknickknack.com
Gnowfglins

A Race and A Recipe: Beef Tongue

"Come take a walk with us around the new fence."

We have been saving and waiting for the time to fence this back field

so we can utilize it better by the cows in the fall and winter.

 I love the view from up here.

"The heavens declare the glory of God;

and the firmament sheweth his handywork."

Psalm 91:1

That verse seems to shout in my head whenever I see nature that takes my breath away.

 It makes me thankful to look out over this spot He has given us

for this time in our lives.

"We want to race, Mom.

Come race with us."

"Tell us 'Ready, Steady, Go!' "

"Okay.

READY.

STEADY.

GO!!!!"

I love taking walks in the cooler weather.

What better way to follow up a walk then with the kids' favorite meal.

Okay, yes, I know this may sound crazy,
but my kids love beef tongue.

They've grown up on it
and they don't see it as any different than any other part of the cow
that we eat: hamburger, steaks, roast;
to them it is just meat,
very tasty, soft meat.


Here is how I fix it.

After scrubbing the tongue with a kitchen scrub brush,
I submerge the tongue in a pot of water,

and pour in some pickling spices and 2 bay leaves.


I then bring it to a boil
and then simmer it for about 4 hours.

It can be done in the crock pot as well,
on high for about 5 or 6 hours,
or on low for about 8 or 9.


When it is done,
it is taken out of the water to cool.

When sliced, the skin peels right off,
super easy.

The tongue is then sliced into thin pieces,
which the kids gobble up like candy.

We rarely have much left over with the three of them
and us two trying to get our share.

My husband likes his with horse radish.

I prefer mine with just a dash of salt.

The meat is so soft and tender,
it really can't be beat...






and that's a fact coming from a household of ready racers.


Thank you so much for your comments.
I have enjoyed hearing what you are having for dinner
and the recipes you have shared as well.

This is part of my 31 days of blogging in October.

Linking up to:
Wearethatfamily.com
Blessedwithgrace.net: Tempt-my-tummy
Aboverubies.net
Womenlivingwell.org
Kelly's Korner Main Dishes Link-Up.

Beef Tongue

A Tale of Two Tales.

The truth is,

tales are seen from different vantage points.

For example,
this scene I caught up in the barn.

 I said,
"Farming and friendship:

 it just happens sometimes."

My farmer, from the other side of the barn replied
something to this effect,
"If you had to clean up after that guy,

perhaps your tender feelings would disappear..."

(or maybe "fly away on the shovel" would be more appropriate).

Reality has a way of doing that to drama, it seems.

Let's see if there is a simple marrying of our two approaches,
my farmer's and mine:

"Let's all have a grand day appreciating the simple realities

 that is the drama of our lives."

(Well, we'll leave it with my attempts to mingle the two.
The farmer is too busy carrying hay bales on his side of the barn.)

Linking up to:

My3boybarians.com: Sweet-shot-Tuesday
Gnowfglins.com: Simple-lives-Thursday 

Not Just a Housewife - Show Me What Ya Got
A Bowl Full of Lemons
 Far Above Rubies: Domestically Divine 
Hip Homeschool Moms: Hip Homeschool Hop  
Themodestmomblog.com 

The Pussy Willow's Gift.

When I strolled around the yard searching for something
"SPRING"
to place in my watering can,

I came to my black Pussy Willow shrub.

I was late for the pussy willows again this year.
I never seem to remember to pick them while they are still dormant
so I can have the fun of dried pussy willow branches.

Pussy willows need to be picked in February around here,
and I'm afraid
I'm just not thinking much about the coming of spring blossoms
in February.

Pussy Willows are from the willow family,
obviously,
so they love moist ground
and have roots that spread and search for water,
so one must be careful not to plant them near wells
or water lines.

They also need to be pruned back
or they will quickly become a tree
rather than a bush.

But the thing I love about Pussy Willows,
is what they provide in early spring's first warm days.

As I came to them,
I was overwhelmed with the sound and sight.

The first bees of spring do something to my soul.

They wake me to the reality of spring,
to long hours of work in cold soil,

of warm sun on pale shoulders.
Of muddy hands and dirty fingernails.
 Of brilliant lime-colored grass.

Of newness.

Sometimes when one is tired and cold,
it's easy to fall into a slump of inactivity,
to let the spirit drift in quiet thoughts of lulling dullness.
Of lying cold from fear of change,
of growth,
 of challenge.

But spring comes
and brings renewed vigor,
as if God is pointing to His vast creation
to remind us that
"To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:"
Ecclesiastes 3:1


In this newness of life,
it is as if I can hear Him saying,
"But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness
arise with healing in his wings;..."
Malachi 4:2a

The hum of the honey bee.

It is a good reason to love Pussy Willows.

Listen.

Linking up to:
Theprairiehomestead.com 
Themodestmomblog.com 
 Betweennapsontheporch: Metamorphosis Monday
Gnowfglins.com: Simple-lives-Thursday 
Savvysouthernstyle.blogspot.com: Wow-us-Wednesdays 
We Are That Family

Raisinghomemakers.com
Hiphomeschoolmoms.com: Hip-homeschool-hop

A Bowl Full of Lemons

My3boybarians.com 

 Far Above Rubies: Domestically Divine
Not Just a Housewife - Show Me What Ya Got
A Bowl Full of Lemons
Home Stories a to z 
My Uncommon Slice of Suburbia
Littlenaturalcottage.com