SPIDERMAN DOES HIS THING

For over a year now, I've been watching our water tower get prepped and rehabilitated.

First all cellular antennas and equipment had to be moved to a temporary tower. Then began a process of soldering, welding, construction of an antenna corral, and finally the installation of an intricate pulley system to pull drape-like tarps up and down (pictures on my photo blog).
























It was behind this covering of tarps that the sandblasting and most of the painting took place.














Once the tarps were no longer needed, the pulleys had to be dismantled, so Spiderman was summoned to do the job.

CATCHING UP

I't's exciting to be back, and I've been busy getting the old home spruced up. My sidebar needed updating, as did the list of blogs I used to follow. Sadly, many friends have moved on without leaving a forwarding address, but I'm looking forward to the new ones I've yet to meet.

Life has taken many unexpected twists and turns in the six years I was gone. My family has celebrated several weddings and graduations, and I've been blessed with three new great-grandchildren. The youngest just turned one, and I've chosen the picture of her birthday cake for this post because of the lovely memory attached to it of her three-year-old sister excitedly proclaiming, "Great-granny is here; great-granny is here," when she saw me at the door.

One of my last posts was about a family of ravens who had built a nest near the top of a water tower across from my balcony. I had been taking pictures of the babies learning how to fly, and as I looked through my photos, the idea of a children's picture book popped into mind. Though I'd never dreamed of some day writing picture books, that's exactly what happened. My first book, The Water Tower Ravens launched me into an exciting new career as a writer for children.

My next book, Leafster, was inspired by pictures I had taken of my great-grandson and a katydid at a family get-together at the pool. Again, the pictures came first, with no thought of turning them into a book until I looked through them and saw a story.

Leafster was soon followed by Along the Trail, an interactive book I wrote for a friend's birthday. Unlike the other two, this one was planned, and filled with pictures of creatures we encountered while out walking on one of our favorite trails.

Then on New Year's Eve of 2017, life took an unexpected turn in a different direction, as I found myself in the Emergency Room, hooked up to a ventilator, and suffering from acute congestive heart failure and double pneumonia. There were some doubts as to whether or not I would be able to pull through, but my church family prayed and fasted for me, and their prayers were answered. I did survive, and after almost a month in the hospital, and three weeks in a rehab re-learning how to walk, talk, and do all the simple things I used to take for granted, I was able to come home. My book, Oil of Myrrh, is a testimony of how the Lord worked in my life during this challenging time.

Three months later, in May of 2018, I opted to have open heart surgery to replace my severely regurgitating mitral valve that doctors were unable to successfully repair during my January hospital stay.

So there you have it. That's my story. At the moment I am doing well, and feeling very grateful for all my blessings. There's another picture book in the works too. Who would have thought?

HOME AGAIN

This was my first blog. I started it a little over 12 years ago when I was grandma to six, great-granny to one, and thought sharing my experiences might brighten someone's day, or even offer encouragement to someone who needed it.  I enjoyed making and following new friends.  Then along came Facebook, and I got so caught up in that, my blog posts became fewer and further apart. They stopped altogether when I started two new blogs--The Splendor of God's Brushstrokes, to post my photos on, and At the Foot of the Cross, for pretty much the same reason I started this blog.

Now I'm a grandma to seven, great-granny to four, still aspiring to make a difference and brighten someone's day, but wondering why I thought I needed two additional blogs to do this. So here I am back "home" again, searching for an answer, and grateful I never followed the impulse to delete this one when I moved on.

What a humbling experience these past few hours have been. Reminiscing my way through posts has brought tears and laughter, but most of all, it has blessed me with the very gift I had hoped to bless others with. Long forgotten comments have encouraged me, lifted my spirits, and brightened my day. Who would have thought? If any of you who wrote them still inhabit blogland and are reading this, thank you, thank you. thank you. You've made me want to stick around for while.

REDIRECTING

No, I'm not deleting this blog--at least, not yet--but I am putting it to rest for a season while I focus on two of my other blogs--At The Foot of the Cross, and The Splendor of God's Brushstrokes.  I hope you will come and visit me there.

AN ENCOURAGING WORD

This was my first blog.  I started it almost seven years ago with the hopes that sharing my experiences would brighten someone's day, or perhaps offer encouragement to someone who needed it.  I enjoyed making and following new friends.  Then along came Facebook, and I got so caught up in that, my blog posts became fewer and further apart. I increasingly found myself wondering why I was even keeping it alive, as a little voice in my head whispered, "What's so special about you that makes you feel you have something to offer?  What do you have to say that hasn't already been said by someone else, and said better?"

Today I decided to listen to that voice and delete this blog.  But first, a trip down memory lane.  As I scrolled down my list of posts I came across one I had written several years ago, entitled A REMINDER TO ME (AND YOU TOO IF YOU NEED IT).  I was curious to see what I had been reminding myself of, and opened it up.  Wow!  Talk about a Divine encounter.  

Apparently, I had been having some very similar thoughts back then, and the reminder was:  BEWARE OF FALLING INTO THE TRAP OF COMPARING YOURSELF TO OTHERS.  

I won't copy the whole post, because you can read it by clicking on the link to it above, but the following story from the  Streams in the Desert devotional I had been reading at the time was an awesome reminder that I'm a Divine original (as are you) created for a special purpose that no one else can fulfill.

It's the story of a king who goes into his garden one morning and finds everything withered and dying.  He starts asking the plants what the problem is. The oak says it doesn't want to live any more because it's not tall and beautiful like the pine tree, the pine tree is upset because it can't bear grapes like the grapevine, the grapevine bemoans the fact that that it doesn't produce fruit as large as the peaches on the peach tree, the geranium is disheartened because it's not tall and fragrant like the lilac, and so on it goes throughout the garden until the king gets to the little violet and and comments on how happy he is to see at least one flower bright and perky.  To which the violet responds, "I know I'm small, yet I thought if you wanted an oak or a pine or a peach tree or even a lilac, you would have planted one.  Since I knew you wanted a violet, I'm determined to be the best little violet I can be."

I don't know if anyone else will read this post, or if I even have any followers left in Blogland who might be encouraged by it, but I do know it has convicted me to keep on keeping on, and that it's not time to throw the towel in yet.  

THE LOST RING

I hate shopping.  Maybe it's because more often than not, I'm disappointed with my purchases.  Nothing seems to look the way I thought it would once I get it home, and my latest experience was no exception.

I had gone shopping for some accessories to wear with a dress a friend helped me choose for a very special occasion.  A necklace and bracelet set caught my eye, as did a pretty ring.  I was excited to have so quickly found what I thought were the perfect pieces to wear with said dress.  Alas, they turned out not to be perfect at all.  Furthermore, to add to my chagrin, I discovered that the ring I had been wearing was no longer on my finger.  I must have left it at the store.

The next morning I went back to return my purchases and look for the ring.  I searched all the jewelry racks and checked the Lost and Found, but it wasn't anywhere.  I felt crushed.  It was only a cheap little ring, but it had sentimental value, and I really liked it.

When I got home, I called my friend and told her about my misadventures.  I asked her if she would be willing to help me pick out the jewelry I needed since I wasn't having much luck on my own.  Unlike me, she loves shopping, and was eager to comply.

We arranged to meet the next day, and while she happily rummaged through the racks, I went back to the Lost and Found.  My ring was not there.  Dejected, I returned to the jewelry department and asked her to keep an eye out for it.

Not five minutes later, she walked over to me with a big grin on her face and an outstretched palm.  There in the middle of it was my missing ring.  She had found it on a ledge near the floor.  Was that a miracle, or what?            

A CLOSE KNIT FAMILY -- OF RAVENS, THAT IS

"Two are better than one, because ... if

either of them falls down, one can help 

the other up."  (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10)

Some time in February, a pair of ravens took up residence on our town’s water tower, right across from my balcony, and ever since I read about it in our local paper, I've been following them closely, taking a gazillion pictures, the best of which are posted on my photo blog.  If you'd like to see them, click here for Ravens on the Water Tower, here for Ravens -- Part II, and here for Ravens -- Part III. 

Just to recap, though, their nest rests in a sheltered area behind some wires near the top of the structure. which doubles as a transmission tower for the local power company, and because ravens are protected under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, the birds cannot be disturbed without Federal permission.  Electric company maintenance workers were ordered to suspend all routine maintenance on the tower until the birds leave the nest.  

Well, due to a misunderstanding, the ordinance was not strictly followed, and some work was done at a crucial time when mama raven needed to be warming her eggs, and yet, despite this disturbance, a snow storm, and some heavy winds, the nest remained safe and secure on its perch, the eggs hatched, and four babies were born.

As I've watched them grow and learn how to fly, I've been impressed by the way they seem to watch out for one another, and communicate.  

They squawk when they leave the nest, and also when they return.  They also sometimes squawk to let each other know where they are.

When the fledglings started testing their wings, there was a great deal of very loud and frenzied squawking which seemed to be a combination of the parents instructing, exhorting, and guiding the little ones through the process, and the little ones excitedly responding as  they discovered they could fly. 



As they got better at it and could go greater distances, the squawking became more subdued.  

What I enjoy most is watching the whole family take off together, flying higher and higher until they're way above the treetops, almost out of sight.  Then they spread their wings and just soar around and around in slow circles, gliding on the wind. It is beautiful to behold, and I've been trying, so far in vain, to get a group shot.  It's much easier to capture just one.

Flying in the rain

Looks like a long way down there 

Sadly, one of the babies landed on the road and got run over by a car, so now there are only three. 

I thought of the Scripture verse at the top of this post when I saw one of the fledglings on the roof of a building in my complex call for help and get rescued by a sibling.

The little bird was hopping about with what appeared to be a limp.  Every now and then it would stop, ruffle its feathers, flap its wings as though getting ready to fly, then bring them back down and hop some more. 

  
I wondered if it was hurt, or had forgotten what to do next, or maybe both, but didn't have to wonder long because after repeating the process a few times, it just stood there squawking until one of its siblings flew over from the tree it had been sitting in, hopped up next to to it, and they flew off together.

  

Follow Me

IT MADE IT

In case anyone who read my previous post wants to know whether or not the second tomato followed suit, it most certainly did, and was even more delicious than the first one had been.  It didn't happen the way I had expected it to though.

After a couple of disappointing weeks when nothing seemed to be changing except the weather, which was now cold and windy, I grudgingly made my way to the balcony, trash bag in hand, all ready to dump the plant.  Imagine my surprise when I saw the tomato was no longer green.

Needless to say, it did not get dumped.  Instead, I started cheering it on, checking on it several times a day, taking pictures of its progress, which seemed to be taking place really fast.

Only a couple of days later, it looked almost ready to pick, but Hurricane Sandy was on the way, and I dared not leave it out there any longer.  It had to finish ripening on my window sill instead of on the vine.

As you can see, though, it made it just fine!

I'M GLAD I WAITED

On Mother's Day, my daughter gave me a seedling tomato plant that I nurtured on my windowsill for several weeks.

When it seemed big enough and strong enough, I transplanted it and moved it to my balcony, where it really took off.
 

By July, the leaves were looking thick and healthy, and there were many flowers on it, but none of the flowers turned into tomatoes. They just bloomed, and then dried up and died. 

However, in August, when I was about ready to write this plant off, one tomato started to grow, and by September, a second one had joined it, and I eagerly awaited some sign of ripening.

Summer turned to Autumn, the stink bugs attacked, and still they were green.  I was told they would never ripen now.  If the cold didn't kill them, the stink bugs would.  

I couldn't do anything about the weather, but I did go after the stink bugs with a vengeance, using my trusty vacuum cleaner as a weapon. 

And then a miracle!  At the beginning of October one tomato's appearance seemed to be changing.  Only a day later, the signs of ripening were clear.


By the end of the week I had a beautiful red, ripe tomato, ready to be picked.


Will the second one follow suit?

FAITH

I can't remember where I copied this from, but I love the imagery.

"Faith is putting all your eggs in God's basket and counting your blessings before they have hatched."