Standing Out Against the Gray

“Therefore, COME OUT FROM THEIR MIDST AND BE SEPARATE,” says the Lord.

“And ‘Do not touch what is unclean’; And I WILL WELCOME YOU.

And I will be a father to you, And you shall be sons and daughters to Me,”

Says the Lord Almighty.

~ 2 Corinthians 6:17-18

 

 

 

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Gray – 1. Of or relating to an achromatic color of any lightness between the extremes of black and white.

2. prosaically ordinary.
3. having an intermediate and often vaguely defined position, condition, or character.

 

No more gray, no more sitting on fences. You decide what you believe and what you do not. You decide who you are going to be….I hope you decide to stand out against the gray.

 

 

Every Year…

“November is the most disagreeable month in the whole year.” said Margaret, standing at the window one dull afternoon, looking out at the frost-bitten garden.

“That’s the reason I was born in it,” observed Jo pensively, quite unconscious of the blot on her nose. ~ Little Women

 

 

During the few days before turning a significant age some people, sane and philosophical people, sit in Barnes and Noble, drinking coffee (or coke zero,- your choice) whilst writing deep words of thought on their blogs.

And then others of us forget what day our birthday is on, forget to order their special birthday dinner, and then run off a gravel road while going 40 mph in a 40 mph speed limit area (We don’t care about our age….well, yes we do.). We do this because there are only a few more days left in our lifetime in which this type of behavior can be forgiven. After all, e are just adolescents. But hit Twenty-One and oh-no! You forget that date, you run off the road, and  you are charged with becoming senile (it all goes down hill from here…).  So, right now, I’ll claim the responsibility. Hey, I knew I should have slowed down! But I won’t claim insanity….wait, maybe I should…

What’s really funny, but not that funny, is that hardly any of those “others of us” has the joy of, when calling home for a  brother (as in not brotherS), being rescued by the brother and three others. Making it three guys to do that hard muscle work and say “Hey, how’d ya park it like that?” when you know that you’re taking up their morning hours. To who you can say “I told you I could fly”, and they don’t, even if they’re thinking it, say “Look what you’ve done, stupid!” Three brothers, who are totally awesome. And a sister there to say, “You didn’t try getting it out by yourself, did you?” and give a hug if an emotional brake-down is on the agenda.

If you ever find yourself in a situation where you are about to fishtail off the road, take your foot off the accelerator. And DO not apply the brakes. Above all, don’t go over 30 mph on a gravel road under any circumstance, I don’t care if you’re about to be late for the President’s Birthday Party. Those are my few, well seasoned, words of advice.

One sure-fire way to prove to your parents that you are a responsible, level-headed adult? Show them how you can fishtail and park the car on the OTHER side of the ditch.

“The Lord’s lovingkindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail.

They are new every morning; Great is YOUR faithfulness.” ~Lamentations 3:22-23

 

Word for October

Thought I had forgotten, eh? Or perhaps you were hoping I had forgotten…or better yet YOU were the one who had forgotten. But alas, I have not. And if you have, well then, I’ve just reminded you. You can’t escape it, hah! It makes me feel so powerful….powerfully illiterate. And slightly depressed that you could use a vast number of words inappropriately and no one would catch on….or the few that actually do don’t catch the humor in it.  Trust me, laughing solo isn’t so much fun. Though it can be pretty funny to the onlookers. Enough with that, here is (drumroll, please) our WORD!

Facetious - 1.Joking or jesting often inappropriately : waggish
2 : meant to be humorous or funny : not serious, as in “a facetious remark”.                                           3. lacking serious intent; concerned with something nonessential, amusing, or frivolous: a facetious person.

Have a great weekend! Good-bye October!

 

Oatmeal and Milk? No, It’s Not Breakfast!

I’m taking a cue from Christine and going to post something that involves hands-on activity….

Alright, it’s actually a documentary of an hands-on activity.

Oatmilk Face Wash

In the blender -…because our food processor come to an untimely demise several months ago. A particular someone (who shall remain nameless) went to process something and found a spider in the bowl. Spider, bowl, and blade went whizzing through the air, powered by the terrified scream emitted by the particular nameless someone. The spider and blade survived being dashed to the ground, but the bowl did not…- (did my rabbit-trail confuse you?) combine the ingredients.

“Ingredients” being oatmeal and milk, in 1:1 proportions. Blend it, or process it, until it is fairly smooth. It’s supposed to help exfoliate, not scrape off your face, so make sure that the oatmeal pieces are small enough. I hear other people add other things as well, like certain herbs and flaxseed. But I didn’t want to be to fancy….or run to the supermarket.

Find a nice jar to put it all in. Make sure it’s big enough (or small enough!) and clean (Really, does it make sense to put face wash in a dirty jar, anyone? It’s not soap, it’s not going to clean the jar.).  Use a one-size-too-small funnel to pour the oatmilk face wash into the clean jar. After shaking it and giving it a serious talking to, change method of input…

I found a homemade paper funnel very satisfactory….just make sure it’s clean. Do NOT however, attempt to wash it… that’s never panned out well for me.

My goodness! Who made this mess? I suppose I just have a knack for it….it creates the illusion that I’m more involved in whatever I’m doing. Plus, it’s like a billboard…”KATTYRAE WAS HERE”.

Once you have poured the contents of the blender into your jar, just seal it and viola!

You have your very own Oatmilk face wash, at your service! To use pour a little bit onto your palm and add a few drops of water until is reaches desired consistency (hey, sounds like a real recipe or something). Then rub on your face like any other normal face wash and rinse. Not hard at all. Plus it’ll save you loads of money…I hear that the cosmetics industry is into the billions….kinda lets you know what people value these days. I’ve only started using this face wash this week, so I’ll let you know how it works out for me.

 

And They Were Two

A Week’s Worth of Thought

For the past few months I have been calling them the gaunt girls, but they weren’t always gaunt.  Gauntness came with time and, as with everything, so did age.  Minnie and Ruby are their names.

These two, out of the six horses who live on our farm, get fed two to three times a day.

And when you whistle their song all six pairs of ears perk up. The two girls have certainly grown mild with age, now they gently walk towards you instead of rushing upon you with a dramatic and fearful effect. Once their strength was intimidating, now they are led like lambs.

They really were different once,…once they seemed invulnerable, a constant equine presence.

Minnie’s name wasn’t really Minnie…I think it was Mary at first. My Uncle, who played polo, got her from friend of his who also played polo. Then she had problems, I don’t know what. All I know is that roughly ten years ago we picked her up from the vet school so that she could live in retirement with us. I remember the gross gruel like substance we had to feed her, and the pills we had to crush up for her.

But the first horse to come to our farm was Ruby.

She came from my uncle’s polo stable, she had to retire due to an injury to her right eye which pretty much rendered her  blind in that optic. But before her days as a polo horse she was a race horse, and did she love to run!

Our Uncle had brought her to us before Christmas. But it wasn’t until Christmas morning, when we found a shining saddle in our living room, that I knew she was ours to keep. She was soon joined by a horse of our very own, one we bought, and then her friend from the polo stable, Minnie.

I don’t remember when, but one week my elder brother and Dad went out-of-town and they let me feed the horses while they were away. I loved that job, it was the most exciting part of my day, and they let me continue to do it after several more trips. I can’t remember how long, if it was just for the summer or for a few years, but in my memory it was longer. Long enough that certain smells and sights stir up those memories. Long enough to form habits with the horses, and for them to form habits with me.

When you brushed Ruby’s hair you didn’t want to stop because it shined, it blazed. One of the most beautiful moments I’ve ever seen is the moment when the horses would be released from the corral into the open pasture just as the sun was hitting those few golden minutes before setting. They would run out in full glory. Ruby’s coat would catch light, and like fire she would blaze across the pasture. I always planned to get a photo of that some day… But now she’s faded, still some of that old glory lingers in her red main. Some what like old dreams. They fade, but their memories still linger in an old glory. My brothers are the caretakers for the horses now, but this past week I went back to my old habit. I went out in the cold to feed them, and what I thought I would find hard came back easily…like an old habit.

The other day, I brushed out her coat, put on the halter that I got for my birthday -when I was a little girl and dreamed of being a cowgirl-, and brought her out into the yard for some of that greener grass on the other side. First two days of this and she loved it, on the second day she actually came running up to me, I was optimistic. But by third day she didn’t eat anything, perhaps this grass was not so green after all.  And then, that magical time before sunset came. Through the barn shot shafts of golden light and for a little while old, worn-out Ruby was once more a burning ruby.

When I led her out of the corral and released her, she didn’t run, she didn’t blaze. She just stood still, benign and tired, waiting for life to pass her by.

There, in the pasture, she was a faded Ruby, while the sun blazed alone.

*This post has been a week in the making, sorry for the delay. And now, since Monday 19th of October, it is in memory of Ruby.

 

Talking Flowers

Chrysanthemum rubellum

‘Clara Curtis’

herbaceous perennial

Bloom where you are planted

The wilderness and the desert will be glad,

And the Arabah will rejoice and blossom; Like the crocus

It will blossom profusely

And rejoice with rejoicing and shout of joy.

The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, The majesty of Carmel and Sharon.

They will see the glory of the Lord, The majesty of our God.

~Isaiah 35:1-2

 

Introducing….!

I would like you all the meet my very old (well, not too old) and very dear friend, Christine. If you have been a reader of this blog since the beginning of July (or before), then you have already heard about her. If you are new, then you can read about her here, in this post.

She has just started a most delightful blog that already has me addicted! So pop over and see why I love her so much. Chances are, as soon as you get to know her, you’ll love her too!

Click here to visit Christine’s blog. Trust me,  you won’t regret it!

Au revoir!

 

Maroon and White!

This weekend I went to my FIRST ever collage football game. We got in on a special deal because my four younger siblings were signed up for 4-H this year. You can’t really beat $15 tickets, a free T-shirt, and tailgating. And so, on October 3rd (Happy Birthday, Dad!), Dad, Mom, Hope and I piled into the jeep and headed to our destination: Bulldawg Country.

Near, far, in our motor car, Oh what a happy time we’ll spend.

Bang Bang Chitty Chitty Bang Bang!

I have no idea why she is distracted so easily!

Tailgating. Does Dr. Pepper truly make the world taste better?…

…It seems that Hope would think so.

See the police officer up at the corner?

We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. =)

About an hour and a half before the game started,

the team came rolling in.

Now done with the tailgating, Hope and I head to

the Barnes and Noble across the street.

Where…………..

We wait in line for over 20 minutes.

Yes, waiting that long can do strange things to you.

Hope was ready with her maroon and white pom-pom.

Then back across the street to the stadium…

Up, up, up the stairs we go!

(…and then….tunnel.*creepy voice*…*cough*… Well, sorta like a tunnel anyway. =D )

The view going up.

A little too high for my comfort….

…but it offered a great view of the fly over!

It was an C-17, according to an Airforce friend of ours.

Lee Hall in the distance.

Lights, cameras, action!

The refs making a call.

See that guy? Yeah, the one in the red circle with the

obvious arrow pointing at him?

That’s my youngest bro selling cokes!

At half time the famous Maroon and White Band preformed!

I’m not sure if they are really famous, but they were good!

The crowded stadium full of maroon and white fans, plus a few extra for the other team.

Hey, there’s my other brother, Number 30! He sells cokes too.

Actually, all three of them do, but I didn’t get a picture of John,because he

was on our side and underneath us….I guess I could have had Hope lower me over the edge….=)

And there goes 30, up the stairs to sell more cokes

(hint, 30 is the number on his shirt, in case you don’t have

a microscope attached to your computer!)

Seasoned football-watchers will find this odd, but…I still get a kick out of those people

who will pay for a ticket just so they can watch the game on a bigger screen. =D

It was pretty dark by the end of the game.

All the fans left.

Hoarse, yes. Defeated, yes. Discouraged, no.

And we left as well.

Towards the end of that block we were about the only people there when a guy passed us.

I proudly displayed my good memory and told my sister,

“Remember, that guy was out on the field? You know, he walked out and everyone cheered for  him and all?”

I couldn’t remember why though, there were so many people of “distinction” hopping on and off the field for a round of applause while the fans waited for the teams.

Later my brothers set me straight. Google “Jerious Norwood” and “NFL”, and see why I had such a sick stomach afterwards. Out of ALL the 100’s of  photo’s I took there was NOT ONE of him!

Yes, I could have had his autograph. Yes, I could have been rich. And yes, my memory is not so good after all.

I might have missed a real live NFL player, but I didn’t miss this.

The architecture building on campus. Nice place.

It, unlike other missed opportunities, will be there the next time I walk by.

But hey, it was a great night, a fun game, and a first! I was super blessed! =)

 

The Word for September

I am fully aware that September has passed us by with no Word of the Month, along with August. Chances are that I’m the only one who has missed this peculiar, geeky, monthly post. And so I decided to throw out a Word of the Month for September…even though it’s no longer September.

Precarious- Depending on the will or pleasure of another; also, dependent on uncertain premises; also, dependent on chance circumstances, unknown conditions, or uncertain developments. Characterized by a lack of security or stability that threatens with danger. Also, having insufficient, little, or no foundation.

Yes, this definition appears to go well with this precarious Monthly post.

 

Touches of Autumn

It’s officially been a week since the first day of Autumn. I love Autumn and I am ecstatic that it is finally here, I would be fine if it would last forever!

And so, last week I went looking for signs of Autumn with my camera, searching through the abundant evidence of summer for tokens of Fall.

A few yellowed leaves makes me one happy girl. =)

I’m not sure how this fits in with fall…besides the “brownness” of it.

Yes, this log holds a lot of memories.

There’s something to be said about drifting….

There is beauty in the ugly.

Don’t tell me orange and black is not Autumn-ish.

This would be slightly more in focus if an army of evil ants

hadn’t launched an attack on my toes.

Rusted = Fall

Big tire, little tire

Caution: ______ (Blank to be filled)…

….How ’bout “Vegetarians, cover your eyes” ?

What’s Autumn without Applesauce Spice cake?

And what is Applesauce spice cake without brown sugar?

A good thing to remember as the days get

shorter and the nights get longer.

Delicious autumn!  My very soul is wedded to it,

and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth

seeking the successive autumns.

~George Eliot