The Balcony Garden Report

I was curious when we got back from North Carolina to see how my balcony garden would be doing.  I was a little worried that things wouldn’t have been watered well enough while we were gone, but I was happy to see that everything was alive and even thriving.  Here was the view from the outside,

and from the inside.

I must say that the flowers aren’t nearly as satisfying when I don’t see them from the sink all day long every day—that’s something that I’m looking forward to when we’re in a house again. 

I have 4 vegetable plants on the balcony.  One grape tomato that you see up there on the left (planted early June) that is growing well.  The other grape tomato that I didn’t even plant until July 4th in the hanging soda bottle planter.  It doesn’t really have a ton of foliage, but it’s grown really well for having been planted so late.  I think that the roots must get warmer in the day.  It has to be watered every day, but I think it’s definitely been a success.  Today I had tomatoes on my lunch salad from my two little plants and they were delicious.  Next year hopefully I’ll have lots more.

My other two veggies are squash.  Last year I ordered some seeds that were from Europe.  This one squash plant, I believe an Italian one, really languished all summer and hardly grew at all.  Then as soon as things cooled down it grew like crazy.  I decided to try that plant out here in the short cool Oregon season.  I don’t have any little zucchinis on it yet, but the plant has grown pretty well.  (Russ points out that it’s grown really well considering it rarely has light shining on the pot it’s growing in.)

The last squash plant was one I bought at the farmers market in July sometime.  It was only a dollar and I figured it was worth a try.  It has a tiny baby squash on it now, so hopefully it will produce at least one we can eat.

Hopefully before next summer I can learn the tricks that people use to extend this super short growing season, and thank goodness I can buy whatever I can’t grow at the awesome farmers market!

I See in Analogy

One of my friends recently posted on her blog that analogy is her communication of choice.  I had to chuckle when I read that, because sometimes I feel like my brain could make a spiritual analogy out of almost anything that happens.  Sometimes the analogies feel like a bit of a stretch, but often they sink deeply into my heart like serious truth.

As I’ve thought about some analogies that have been on my mind recently, I have seen again some reasons that the Savior might have taught in parables.  I often read something in the scriptures that touches my heart.  I usually write about those things, hoping that will help move that verse/thought into my mind and heart more thoroughly.  Sometimes that works, and sometimes not.  What’s been surprising to me is how much the analogies do stick in my mind.  Often they involve something I’ve seen or done regularly, and so every time I see or do that again, I am reminded.  I can see that in the same way the followers of Jesus, walking past a shepherd in the course of their day, might think again of the parable of the lost lamb.  Or while sweeping their house might think of the lost coin.  How brilliant to tie gospel teachings to common everyday things, people, and events, so that the teachings would be brought back to mind frequently.

***

Here are my two recent analogies for your viewing pleasure:

When I arrived in Oregon the first time I had been driving across the country for almost 4 weeks.  During that time I had taken my thyroid medicine but not another vitamin, supplement, or medicine (other than the occasional ibuprofen for headaches) had crossed my lips.  This might not be a big deal for most people, but for me it was.  For the last two years I’ve had chronic pain in my sacro-iliac joint.  I had hoped physical therapy last fall would get rid of the problem, but no luck.  My pain is worse when I stand, sit, or lay for long periods of time.  I usually move around during the day enough to keep it from really bothering me, but sleeping at night is a different story.  If I take a significant amount of magnesium, calcium, and potassium (minerals that affect muscle contraction & relaxation) every night before bed and then stretch well, I can often avoid pain during the night.  I did some stretching at night on my trip, but I think it was a tender mercy that I didn’t have a lot of pain.  Because when I got to Oregon I didn’t sleep for over a week because my muscles felt like they were on fire..

At first I couldn’t figure out what was going on—all I knew in my sleepy brain was that I wasn’t sleeping.  After a few days I realized that it was the SI pain that was keeping me from sleeping, and finally I remembered (duh!) that I hadn’t taken any of my supplements for weeks.  But it still took a while for everything to work together and for me to do enough stretching and massaging to get my muscles to relax and stay that way all night.

One morning I woke up super early, probably 2 or 3AM.  I ached so badly around my SI joint, but I didn’t want to get out of bed and do anything about it.  For the rest of the night I drifted in and out of sleep, always aware of a line of pain across my hips.  I thought over and over again,

I know just where I need to massage to make that feel better.  I know just what I need.

At some point I gave up trying to sleep, rolled out of bed onto the floor where I have an impressive collection of massage tools, and grabbed the one I’d been dreaming of for hours.  I put it along that line of pain and pressed in hard, waiting for the immediate surge of relief I knew was coming.

Instead, I felt nothing.

I can’t even explain how startled I was.  I was sure I KNEW exactly what I needed to make that pain go away in that moment.  Except that what I thought I needed didn’t work at all, and I had to massage in an entirely different place to get the pain to start to go away. 

 

Sometime that day I started realizing what a perfect analogy that experience was for the situation I was in right then.  How many times in the last year have I fought against what was happening, saying in my heart “I know just what I need.”  I started to see that just like I actually didn’t know what was going to make my pain go away, I probably don’t know “just what I need” in this moment of my life either. 

In the weeks since that night & day, I have often thought of this.  Of my certainty, and of how wrong I was.  It has helped me to remember that even though I am sure I know what I need, I might be totally wrong.  And every time I’ve had pain in that particular place and thought longingly that I needed to massage it just so, the memory has come back.

***

Analogy # 2—much shorter, and with pictures for you as well.

When I planted things in my hanging basket on the balcony, I planted several fuschias—flowers that are very popular here for this kind of thing.  I assumed that they would grow bigger and fill in and I would have hanging hot pink flowers all around my basket, with just a few purple petunias growing up in the center. 

When I got back home two weeks ago and went out to look at the balcony I noticed the hanging basket and I thought, “huh, no fuschias.  That’s not what I expected at all.”  I was disappointed.

As I was looking around at all of my other flowers, the thought came into my mind… just because the flowers flourishing in the hanging basket weren’t the flowers I had planned or expected didn’t mean they weren’t beautiful.  They were just a different beautiful.

And in that moment the spirit poked me and said,

Just like Oregon is a different beautiful.  If you will see it that way.

 

***

So there you have it.  Now every time my SI bothers me or I look at my hanging plant, I get a swift reminder that I actually don’t know just what I need, or that Oregon is just a different kind of beautiful.  Over and over again those messages come into my mind for me to think about.  It seems a brilliant system to me.

 

***

This is neither here nor there in the analogous scheme of things, but I’m going to include it anyway.  Russ & I were sitting in the apartment hot tub the other night chatting, and I saw, even without my glasses, a shooting star.  And I told him, I guess this means that God loves me in Oregon too…

Duct Tape: the force that holds the universe together

 

These pictures were taken yesterday.  This happened a few minutes after Josh woke up from a 3 hour nap (don’t ask) on the bottom bunk and just as Jared was getting off of the top bunk.

I think it’s a sign from above that these beds, bought very used when Jason was little (as in 18 or so years ago) have lived their life honorably and should be retired.

Josh thinks it’s a sign we need more duct tape. 

(Jared seriously slept on the top bunk last night.  There is some hammock cord under the duct tape, but that’s it.  Hammock cord and duct tape…)

domesticity

My adventures in the Land of Fresh Produce continue. 

On Saturday Russ & I walked to the downtown Farmer’s Market.  At first I was disappointed that none of the kids wanted to go, but once I found myself walking through the cool woods hand in hand with my sweetheart all alone, I repented of my disappointment.  We had a lovely walk and perusal of the goods at the market, and after an hour or so Josh came to pick us up with our bags full of fresh produce.  Saturday’s finds included yellow plums (so sweet, but still with a tart skin which I’m somehow sure is full of vitamins) and things called donut peaches & donut nectarines.  Plus corn on the cob to die for and a necessary assortment of zucchini and peppers.

Over the weekend we also picked wild blackberries for the last time.  I find myself having a harder time happily eating as I pick, since I’m always worried about the darned worms now!  We did pick enough to make a delicious cobbler earlier in the week,

and some more blackberry muffins today.  I think we’ve decided that those along with fresh milkshakes are our favorite ways to use the blackberries.  (After washing the berries very well and removing all nearly microscopic worms!)

We also bought a case of peaches & a case of pears over the weekend and today I spent my morning cutting peaches for freezing and making the best ones into this fresh peach pie.  It turned out perfectly, and since I made it in a 10” pie plate instead of a small one, there will be plenty for breakfast too!

Our apartment kitchen isn’t big enough for any real canning, so I’ve arranged to borrow the kitchen of a friend who is going to be out of town for the next week.  I’m hoping to can peaches and pears too, wish me luck.  And stamina!! 

Faith 401

One day this summer Jenna and I went out to pick berries. 

We picked Loganberries, Marionberries, and blueberries that day.

The farm was beautiful.

As we picked and picked I thought about how grateful I was that if we had to move, Heavenly Father had sent us to such a beautiful spot filled with such bounty. 

I picked along, thinking these grateful thoughts, and the awareness of a serious irony crept into my mind.  Here I was, being so thankful for this place that Heavenly Father had chosen for us.  And yet I knew that right in that same moment I was fearful of Heavenly Father and the part of his plan that hadn’t been unveiled yet—specifically the house part. 

You see, I’ve had and seen many different house buying experiences.  I’ve bought a house that I liked and felt like I got to make my own decision and that whatever I decided was fine with Heavenly Father.  I’ve bought a house that had a lot of things about it that I didn’t like because I knew it was what I was supposed to do, and happily I changed a lot of things about the house and grew to love it dearly.  But I’ve also had a friend buy a house (and live there 7 years) that she disliked intensely, and that she disliked the entire time she lived there—because she felt so strongly it was what she was supposed to do. 

How was I to know which scenario was going to play out in my life?  It was clear that Heavenly Father meant for us to be in Oregon, but was there an exact place we were meant to be?  Or were we going to be able to choose something we liked?  Would there be anything we liked??  Would we be able to afford anything we liked???

I feel like I’ve spent much of the last few months hyperventilating about where we were going to end up living in Oregon.  I’ve made a short list in my mind, explaining to Heavenly Father over and over which things were really important to me and why.  “Windows, big windows, please.  I’m so afraid of being depressed all winter.”  “Could I please have a bathtub for me, you know how much I love baths.”  (This after seeing several houses in a row with only a shower in the master bathroom.)  “Our family needs a kitchen big enough for several people to be in it at once, that is important.”  “A place for my sewing machine please, I need somewhere to be able to sew.”  “The kids really want a backyard that is at least big enough for the trampoline, and can’t there please be a place for a little garden?” And then the best (as in most shallow) plea of all, “Oh Heavenly Father, I really don’t want to live in an ugly house…” 

It’s been educational when I look at the situation in an abstract way—take out all of my emotions and anxiety and just look at how little I trust God & His plan for me.  A couple of years ago I had an experience that showed me how afraid I was of God’s plan.  That understanding with the experiences that came after seemed to change my heart.  I felt like I had “arrived” at faith.

This whole experience—Russ’s job loss, finding a new job, fixing and selling the house, leaving our friends, waiting to see where we will live here—has been a experience in needing to have faith on a whole new level.  It turns out that I am much more able to leave things like broken cars and air conditioners in God’s hands, but trusting Him when He’s moving me across the country and then wondering which one of us gets to choose the new house—for me that’s like getting a PhD in faith. 

~

I write all of this now with a house in sight.  We’re still waiting for some things to be finalized so I don’t want to make any public announcements yet.  But there is the possibility of a home that’s not ugly, a home with big windows and a nice kitchen and a bathtub and even a place for the sewing machine.  I am humbled as I mentally go through my list and see that while the house doesn’t have all of the things we would have liked, it does have every thing on my little list.  And a bridge too.

~

I know that I’m still not in the right place emotionally and spiritually.  I think maybe I’m still grieving too much for the place and the people that I’ve left behind—I’m not sure if I can be reconciled enough to the new while I’m still missing the old so badly.  And I know that there’s a big prideful chunk of me that’s resisting letting Heavenly Father’s plan be right for me.  (Yes, I know how ridiculous that sounds and that’s why I went ahead and typed it out.)

~

I keep coming back in my mind to the parable of the prodigal son.  I once listened to a book by a Bible scholar who talked about some of the cultural implications of the scriptural account.  He said that in the middle-Eastern culture of the time, the father would never have run because it would have been so undignified and so inappropriate.  But he did.  He watched for his son and then he ran to him.

In this moment when I realize that I am emotionally “away” from the Father, the story takes on new and deeper meaning.  The father didn’t set a deadline for the son’s return.  He didn’t pace the porch.  He didn’t send critical emails suggesting that the son wasn’t learning his lesson fast enough or telling him how inadequate he was.  Instead he watched and waited.  And then he ran.

~

I think right now I’m most grateful for the feeling that I have that Heavenly Father is allowing me the space to work this all out in my mind and heart.  He surrounds me with  reminders of the wisdom of His plan, yet I have no sense that He is angry or impatient. And from time to time I feel his lovingkindness in gentle and unmistakable ways, like gifts from a patiently watching father.

Big Day

Another proud mommy moment.  Today Josh blessed the sacrament, and Jared, newly ordained a deacon, passed it.  In our new ward they have the tradition that the new deacon’s father shadows him the first time he passes the sacrament to help out if they need it.  I’m not sure if Jared felt like he needed Russ up there with him, but I loved seeing all three of them taking part in the ordinance of the sacrament together.  It’s definitely the end of one era and the beginning of another…

beach memories

There are moments in life that we plan and prepare for that seem to occupy more than their proper space in time—they are bigger than life.  Our week at the beach with Ken & Alisyn is like that.  In truth, we start preparing for the next year as we leave the beach this year—analyzing what we need to do differently, what was really terrific, counting the days until we come again.

This year was different.  Not in the wonder—oh no, it was a wondrous week.

But this year was different because it was the first time our family had to come from so far away to go to the beach, and because we had all realized before we arrived that due to different family obligations there was no possibility of having a beach week next year. 

That’s a lot of emotional pressure to put on a week of vacation—needing not only to fill the last year’s worth of planning and expectations, but also to satisfy for the next two years. 

I am so pleased to be able to say that our week at the beach did not disappoint.  It was filled with fun, with food, with friendship.  It was passing a good book around to read, waiting for the next person to be able to talk about it.  It was sunny days and starry nights and hot tubs and outdoor showers.  It was naps and board games and group games with the kids.  It was beautiful and magical, and the very reallest kind of love imaginable.

Here is a list of moments that I will be remembering over the next two years while I wait to be able to claim our week at Big Bertha again…

Ken’s amazing preparations
hymns in the hot tub
games
kids playing tag in the twilight
toilet problems at church
What Alice Forgot
rain, rain, rain
lots of books
swimming fully clothed
playing Signs
hot tub in the rain
shooting stars
wind
huge waves
family pictures on the right night (before the wind started)
if you think that, you’ve got another “thing” coming
pelicans flying sideways in the wind
crazy rain 
finally winning at Clue Master Detective
making our own music video
and our own line dance
—it was a party at the top of the world, indeed…