Westwoods

I keep being asked when I am going to write my book. It's my own fault...I blabbered about it so many times through out the years.  Years. Yes, it has been years. I am approaching 50 rapidly. And still have not written this book. I think because I have too many ideas and the main passion in my head to write about, which is family and home and marriage and relationships, well, it's just been too intense and special. And I want to protect and respect the people in my life and their journey. So to write openly and honestly and passionately about those things sometimes is just too too much. Too much exposure. Too much risk. Too much rawness and real. I am finding as I grow in age and hopefully in wisdom, that most people are not willing to know or be known. People in general find going deep and being personal a lot like getting a tooth pulled. Nobody wants to admit pain or trials or even pure joy and blessings.  It seems to be a kind of cover. And a little too much bluffing and pr...

  Summer is flying by so fast. Not only is summer speedy, it is also abundant and overflowing with garden produce, heat, and people parties.  I notice life better and feel more at peace when I can process things more fully. That is the one gripe I have with summer. It is so extremely full and life giving that I almost miss it.  Learning to 'chill' and be 'intentional' in a fast paced life, is something I find to be very difficult, even impossible. Thankfully, the concept of chilling and being intentional are just words and concepts. While I appreciate both, I am much too practical to get hung up on them. So. My summer is flying and I am doing my best to relax and enjoy each of the  moments however they arrive. I'm doing pretty well at it too, if I do say so myself. But I have made mistakes. Like not hearing correctly the full plan to when I agreed to leave to go pick huckleberries with friends. I have very kind and gracious friends though, and all was forgiven. Here...

Be joyful in hope. Be patient in affliction. Be faithful in prayer. Romans 12:12 NIV We all are waiting on something. Waiting for an event to arrive. Waiting to see if it will turn out and if we planned it well. Waiting to figure what will be at the store when we go to get the whole list. Waiting to leave on a trip. Waiting till every job is completed before we go. Waiting for everyone to pile into the vehicle of travel, maybe waiting for the last one to brush their teeth so we can go. Waiting to pay the bills; for the money to come in to pay the bills. Waiting for something to  sell so we can pay the aforementioned bills.  Waiting for the garden to grow, the flowers to bloom, the green beans to bear strings of beans in place of blossoms.    We wait for the grass to grow green and rain to come again. We wait for the wind to die down and the smoke to go away. (Sometimes the danger of fire is over but you still smell smoke) Metaphorically.  We wait for repent...

  Our summer has already been so full. I write in my journal every day and think I am going to make it here to the blog, but end up pulling weeds in the garden or mowing the lawn instead. This first photo is our Laife and Madi and little baby boy due in December. We took Madi out for her birthday in May for breakfast in Bonners Ferry. The gardens are alive and well. They are a balm to the soul as we learn how to be empty nesters.  We bought a boat and are having long and lazy weekends out on the water. So far we've been to Diamond Lake for two nights, Lake Roosevelt for a night, and this coming weekend we're planning to go to Lake Pend Orielle in Idaho.   Shaunti and I picked 30 pounds of strawberries in the hot sun. I found these huckleberries on our land. Well, almost on our land...it might have been on the neighboring property too. These two found out they are having a girl. She is due to arrive in Oct. The lovely Toria. She left us on the 11th of June. Her plans are t...

  How can I keep from singing... If only it was that easy. But walking through a spring time orchard does help one to come to this... The thing is, celebration and beauty for the good things in life are at the same time going to bring pain and suffering and reminders of grief. This is life. The spring blossoms are beautiful and amazing, a breath from heaven...softness and comfort and fragrant peace...answers to prayers...safety...refuge... This is life too. Loss and grief and brokenness.  Relationships break and we can't seem to forgive and move on. Our babies go to heaven before they arrive on earth. Some of us don't even get the hope of a child. We are barren. Left alone, dry, and withered. We feel forgotten.  It comes to me in a still small voice that we all experience and suffer, loss and grief. We all get to choose..."Though none go with me, still I will follow". This is best committed and promised to God when we are most alone and stripped of everything we ever ...

  My good friend, Emily, over at  mrs.emilymiller.substack.com  challenged me to use the opportunity without a phone as a self-improvement thing...see what a phone fast does for you and give report of that to us. I am sad to report that I'm still not sure if there was any self-improvement and what it was, or if I benefited from this experience. I suppose the most shocking thing in all of it was the helpless and bereft feeling I had the whole ten days. That feeling began the moment I realized what I had done. How it happened: I was returning a rental car in Baltimore at 4:00 a.m. I had conquered the strange unpredictable PA roads for three days, navigated the toll system, figured out where to fuel up the car and leave it in the parking garage. Feeling quite successful for four in the morning...we, my daughter and I, grabbed our few bags, locked the car, and walked toward the deposit box for the key and the shuttle waiting for us to take us over to the airport for our six o...

I was born in 1976. Some of my siblings last night, on the family page, went wild with history that was going on at their time of birth. It was interesting. I googled my own but got distracted with remembering the 80's and 90's. The parts of living in a little girls mind without the history lesson, that is... Sunday mornings. Tight braids and hair balls. Unbearably tight braids that made my eyes water. I'd go to the mirror to make sure my eyes weren't squinting. Thick cotton socks stuffed inside black shiny buckle shoes. The buckles were  often stretched out on the shoes, so that they buckled loosely at best. And the hair balls also had lost their elasticity. The Dress...double knit polyester, green with big purple flowers. Hot and scratchy. Jelly shoes and moon boots. If you know, you know. Tights that hung low in the crotch. No such thing as leggings. Big glasses. Didn't care. Could finally see actual blades of grass and leaves on trees. Barefoot, mowing lawn. Gre...