Hello, fellow moms. Thanks for all the day-brightening xanga posts. and sorry to neglect my blogring contribution so.
The midwinter has indeed been bleak here, snow on snow on snow, as the carol goes. Thank the Lord for the sweeties just outside our picture windows, real balm for my cabin fever.


Mrs. red-bellied woodpecker on the suet feeder.


This white-breasted nuthatch personifies cold for me, straddling that iron hook next to an icicle.


This adorable morsel is a red-breasted nuthatch. They only visit here when a winter is really cold, so he'd usually be up Canada way. Thanks, Kayleen!


Mr. downy woodpecker.


Mrs. hairy woodpecker. Hairies look just like downies but are bigger with longer beaks. The size of the feeder is about the same in both shots, so you can see how much bigger they are.


"Yer rockin' the boat!" Tufted titmouse peering down on a northern chickadee. I've got "Zick dough" in this feeder, a high-energy concoction of lard, peanut butter, cornmeal, rolled oats and flour.

Stay warm, everyone!

Time is hurtling past this early autumn for me. Very little time to blog. I do enjoy reading everyone else's doings.

The other day I realized that tomorrow something will happen to Mike and me that has not been true for over fifteen years: we will be without a teenager. Stephen will be twenty! Now I really feel as if I'm in a time warp.

A bit of background for other news:

Mike and I spent most of our children's upbrining years as Anglicans in exile. We both attended Kenyon College here in Ohio, founded by the first Episcopal bishop of Ohio, one Philander Chase, who was so zealous for the gospel in the (then) frontier wilderness (1824) that he started a college and seminary so young men called to the ministry would not have to pursue their education back east where the more civilized culture would tempt them to remain. By the time Mike and I went to Kenyon, it was completely liberal and on its way to dropping its affiliation with the Episcopal church.

As a naive nominally Christian freshman (reared in a home which was tepid in its approach to the Faith) with an interest in leaning more about the Bible I took a religion course. It taught that religion was the way primitive man sought to explain and mentally tame the alarming, chaotic forces of nature around him. Thus Jehovah was an invention of the Israelites to bring cohesiveness to their society wandering in the wilderness (I was taught that gem my first day of class by a professor who was also an Episcopal priest). In the syllabus were books by brilliant mid-20th century minds who abstracted Christian words so they could assign them new universal meaning and content; "faith," for instance, is that holding of anything as your "ultimate concern." By the end of the year I was losing my already tentative grip on my Christian faith.

Early my sophomore year our gracious God prompted me to accept an invitation to a student prayer group whose members were very devoted to the Lord, and through the scriptures in their conversation and songs He showed me His invitation to believe on Him and gave me grace to respond, halleluia. Here's the ironic part: though "learned" Episcopal clergy skeptics had dismantled my faith, as I began to attend worship services at the Church of the Holy Spirit on campus, I found the words of the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer (1928) to have an enormously beneficial, formative affect on my fledgling belief. As you probably already know, the great reformer of the Church of England Thomas Cramner assembled the book drawing from ancient liturgies of the church and writing prayers soaked with Scripture and reformed doctrine. Looking back I can say the liturgy catechized me and taught me the shape of how the Faith is held, in awe of and reverence for God, a focus on the Lord's sacrifice for sinners, thanksgiving and giving Him glory as our response, etc. What a sound beginning for my Christian walk.

Even back in 1976, and especially because we (Mike's major was Religion) had seen firsthand what heresies were being offered as sophisticated scholarship in the seminaries, we recognized how gutted of true belief in Christ the Episcopal church was becoming, and we bailed out to the haven of more orthodox Christian groups. But we have always longed for "Anglican done right." Over thirty years later the apostasy of the Episcopal Church is nearly complete. The piecemeal exit of believing groups has been messy, since Anglicanism has always been geographically organized; so, what do you do when your bishop talks to owls and calls it religious experience (true account from the present bishop of Ohio in a diocesean newsletter from last year)? Maybe place yourselves under a godly bishop from Nigeria or the Southern Cone, as many groups have done. Mike and I have been heartened and energized by the Anglican "realignment." This is another bit of "time warp," back to the sound Anglicanism of yore, that we've always hoped for. Four believing churches from this diocese have gone under Nigerian authority, and the one closest to us called an energetic reformed minister, so Mike and I (and Stephen, when he's home) have enthusiastically trekked across town (40 miles) to attend. But for years we have prayed that the Lord would establish a conservative Anglican church here on the east side of Cleveland.

Long story short, we "happened" to meet a couple who had been praying for the same thing during our last year at the local PCA church. The husband was attending an Episcopal church twenty years ago when he felt called to the ministry. He was advised at the time that he would be considered too conservative to be granted the bishop's necessary sponsorship for seminary and pursuing orders; the sticking point? His belief in the bodily resurrection of Christ!! He eventually became ordained in the PCA but has always wished for orthodox Anglican affiliation. Our two families have been meeting for Evening Prayer (a prayer book service that can be led by laity) on Sunday evenings for over a year now, happy just to have the service together but also praying that the Lord will bring growth and establish an Anglican church for His glory and His saints' benefit here. For thirteen years in my evening job in a hospital laboratory, I have had to work every other weekend, so I have had to miss half the evening services.

Which brings me (finally!) to the answered prayer for which the above is the background. So that I can seriously and consistently support this possible "start-up," I prayed that the Lord would release me from being scheduled to work on Sundays. But I prayed thinking "yeah, right!" (no secret to the Lord!), doubting to say the least. I approached my supervisor asking for one extra Sunday per month off, but then looking at the schedule and factoring in new hires realized I could ask for alternate Saturdays only. He agreed. Simple as that. Thank the Lord!! for graciously granting my request despite the unbelief in my heart. This will be a major change for our family, and a major relief for me. Freedom to really keep the Sabbath, and have folks over for meals (like the lovely times Kayleen reports on), etc.!

We hope to hold "classical" Evening Prayer services in Advent, perhaps in a church, so we can invite in the public. We'd much appreciate everyone's prayers.

What a sprint I've been doing the past few weeks. I've been working about half my evenings in the hospital lab and working like a beaver when I am home to put the house and garden to rights. I've been pulling weeds, pitching mulch, and scrubbing long lines of nearly irretrievably stained kitchen floor grout with a bleachy product that, thank goodness, brought back the clean-looking light color. I crowed over finding patio loveseat cushions deeply discounted and finding a spray paint to use on plastic, so that I could make both the tired old white webbing and white tubing of the seat bought twenty-five years ago a nice flat black to match the other wrought iron seating. Saturday morning found me on my back scraping under the exterior oil tank (we heat with fuel oil), blinking away rusty grit falling in my eyes and then applying an oil-based rusty metal primer (yikes! I'd forgotten how thankful I am for the marvel of latex paint!). Talk about a "Calgon, take me away!" moment! Well, no one else around here could fit under there! (the dog is no good with a paintbrush), and the tank had been an unpainted eyesore for long enough.

My frenzy has been the result of my taking a good look around at what someone who's never met me or seen my home might notice, because soon they will! Mike and I and another family here have a great desire for there to be a conservative Anglican church on this side of Cleveland (we attend one on the west side), so we all have started having Evening Prayer (a Book of Common Prayer service that can be led by laity) on Sunday evenings. Another family has expressed interest, so to give them a good introduction, we've invited our minister to come do the service one Sunday next month, and we'll host a cookout for the families of all involved before the service. We're not interested in keeping up with the Joneses, but I do want the way I tend what the Lord has blessed us with to reflect good stewardship and be clean and inviting. Working outside the home as much as I must, I've coasted on the housework too often, I know. So it's been time to practice a bit of "I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me"!

It hasn't been all drudgery. Mike's youngest sister came with her two little sweeties for a few days (note the gleaming grout!):


Guess what they asked for at the zoo? Ha! Aunt Pat is making birders out of them! Eight-year-old Chase even leaned to say "red-eyed vireo."


My clematis is finally bursting forth.


Our day lily beds down by the road usually have about ten times the blooms of this bed by the house:


But, oh, deer! Bambi reduced us to sticks this year!


We had a mini-cookout this evening.


Friends on our patio in front of our barn.


The flower pots are spilling over nicely out there.


A little Extreme Croquet before Evening Prayer, anyone? (Stephen, stop flaring your nostrils!!) He's not been shaving, but he got hot and gave himself a buzz-cut, so now he is my NotHairy Scary Bearded Guy.


Well, back to my marathon tomorrow! I've been enjoying everyone's posts.