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Grace To Begin Again

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Grace To Begin Again

“Somehow there’s always grace to begin again.” ~ Ann Voskamp. 

This year 2023 has been a rough one. We left 2022 praying for miracles and depending on God’s gift of grace unending.  If you may remember, my oldest daughter, Rachel and her family lost their home in a fire Christmas night of 2022.  Many compassionate people rallied to provide and support them in their plight. The insurance company has been very slow, and partial settlement funds have come.  They have made home with a trailer situated on my son-in-law’s parent’s St. Francois County ranch, living a minimalist lifestyle.  The lot the burned house was on still needs to be sold. The family battles flashbacks and sleep deprivation since the fire.  Please continue in prayers for Rachel, Mick, Hannah, Ella, and Eli. “The mind is a wonderful servant but a terrible master,” author Robin Sharma tells us. Other family news … Granddaughter, Hannah moved into her first apartment. My son, Ben moved to Springfield, MO this spring, and seems to enjoy being there.  My Elisabeth and husband, Mark have taken quite a liking for insects, and have a few terrariums housing their new pets.  Libby and Brendan are occupied with work and school. Dean’s youngest son, Rainer and wife, Erica had another son, Jeremiah on March 3 who joins 3-year-old Jefferson.  It is a joy having them just 25 minutes away.  Dean’s oldest son, AJ and family, Nancy, Elise, and CJ keep busy with work and school.  Little CJ started preschool this year.  Dean’s daughter, Liz and husband, Vince keep up with work and are wonderful helpmates for their families. Most work projects at our St. Charles cottage had been curtailed with our families’ immediate needs in 2023.  I managed to keep alive some potted herbs, and successfully grew Mexican sage and eucalyptus this year. Back at it in 2024 for our cottage, our rental house, and Dean’s parents’ house.

Dean’s mother passed away in October.  She had been battling ill health and leukemia for at least a year.  We typically visit the Kansas City family every 4 – 6 weeks.  But between September and November, we went back and forth to the KC side of the state nine out of ten weekends with her end-of-life details, funeral, and caring for Dean’s father. Dean’s father agreed to a premier assisted living apartment in STL, which has made it much easier for his sons to visit regularly.  Besides coffee & tea stops in obscure towns and villages while going back and forth to Farmington and Lee’s Summit this year, weekend getaways by ourselves or with family or friends included Rolla, Charleston, and Branson, MO; Eureka Springs, Arkansas; Tennessee for the Clarksville Writer’s Conference in June; a day in Glasgow, MO; another day in Lincoln Land, IL; a week away to the beautiful North Carolina Appalachians and Nashville, TN; a flight and an overnight in Texas for Dean’s aunt’s funeral in October; and a holiday weekend in the Wisconsin Dells.

Dean still loves serving the researchers who come into the National Archives military record center.  He has been with this government agency for over 15 years. Dean talks about “retirement” in 4-1/2 years, but I cannot see him stopping the beloved “hunt” with the research he loves doing.  Good chance a small research gig will be in Dean’s future after retirement.  Author Gretchen Rubin writes, “That’s my ideal life.  Doing work worth doing.”  I found regular weekday part-time employment worth doing.  Since May I have been working as a culinary professional for a non-profit organization that serves the senior and disabled communities with meals-on-wheels and services. The earlier full-time job was too much for me between the lack of adequate training at the credit union and running on fumes from weekend trips back and forth to Farmington to assist my daughter after the fire.  Early autumn, the community college built a new space for culinary classes.  I was asked to consult on necessary equipment and space design for the “Studio Kitchen”, and this new space is where I facilitated two cookie baking classes this holiday season.

“Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work,” Thomas Edison is quoted. I continue to take opportunities to submit my poetry, short stories, and recipes to various online publications. Some of my writings are selected and published, plenty others denied.  I participated in my first poetry reading in Eureka Springs, Arkansas early in 2023, and attended two other readings.  In 2024 I will present a WCDH fundraiser workshop “The Essence of Lemon, Herbs, and Writing” on a date TBD.  I facilitated this same workshop at a local lavender farm this past summer and loved the interaction of the participants. I joined a writers’ circle with some folks I met at the Clarksville conference.  Every chance I have to be a part of the writing community, I take it. Huge strides have been made in a culinary themed book I am writing.  “There is something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You never quite know where they’ll take you,” author Beatrix Potter said. More recipes, poems, and short stories keep being added.  A labor of love. I didn’t know this introvert had that much to share with the world.  Somedays I prefer solitude rather than talk to people.  If I am quiet long enough, I can hear.  “Sound is ephemeral…Sound is generative…Listening opens us to the wonders of communication and creativity,” shared keynote speaker David George Haskell at the Clarksville writers’ conference. I work things out with words in the quiet, writing them down and reading others’ words.  Other days I need to have that meaningful conversation with a friend, family member, co-worker, or senior client. “Writers and artists work in the loneliest of all professions, inside our heads”, eMerge co-editor Charles Templeton wrote in a newsletter.

Fluffy pillows and comforters layered on a settee, piled reading books on the floor besides, and a cup of hot cocoa lathered with whipping cream atop … this is what I look forward to this winter which is predicted to be long and cold, the snow shovel kind according to the persimmon seeds.  I will watch the snow and songbirds through the frosty windows while snug warm under blankets, listening to the quiet hush, occasional chirps, and let the words flow on paper.  “Live from the abundant place that you are loved, and you won’t find yourself begging others for scraps of love,” Christian author, Lysa TerKeurst encourages us. Ann Voskamp reminds us, “Whatever rock and tender place the bruised soul finds itself between, it’s witness there right into the face of the rock we’re facing.  There is no such thing as salvation by romance, or by achievement, or by dream life, or by any good behavior, or by itself or anyone else … No choice you or anyone else makes has the power to make you unchosen … What you want most deeply is to be deeply wanted as a person, valued and needed, seen and safe and known.”  Simply, God the Father chose you, salvation is through the gift of Jesus alone, and nothing can separate you from the love of God.  The Holy Spirit lives in you and me.  I pray you know these truths, live them, and share them.

“Nothing can ever separate us from God’s love.” ~ Romans 8:38


May Days and Mothers

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The May weather has been gorgeous! Gardens and yards are popping with colors and textures. The lovely peonies and irises just opened this week. I have spent a few mediative minutes each day in my garden, planting, plucking dead foliage and blooms as well as watering. And of course, time to “cast my cares upon Him”. My mother’s favorite were purple petunias. I added some to one of my planters today to remember my mother this season. Our green perennials have perked up with the fresh sunlight, air, and rainwater. Our freshly potted herbs are thriving. This growing season we planted several varieties of mint, oregano, thyme, marjoram, sage, and basil. The basil is the lemon variety, and I hope to add that to my lemon tea bread recipe this summer. I will be hosting a workshop on the essence of lemon and herbs, sharing my lemon tea bread recipe, and how to write a block-out poem using a recipe. This will be held at a local farm. More information on the workshop is forthcoming.

Our resident fledgling robins made their way out of their nest over the weekend. We see Mama Robin flitting around at the edge of retaining wall and bushes between our house and the next-door neighbor church. Her little ones are under cover while they develop their wings and learn to feed themselves. The nest has been empty since Sunday. Robins will have another brood this season, so Dean and I thought to move the nest off our front door basket and fill the basket with something welcoming like a small ornamental birdhouse. But the nest was interwoven with the flowers, greenery, and moss basket. Dean found a huge piece of concrete to put in the nest. I searched for something a little less bulky. I found a couple of rocks at the dollar store, one says “love” and the other says “peace”. A clear message to Mama Robin to please find another place to lay your eggs and hatch your next brood. Plenty of trees and niches in our yard for Mama and Daddy Robin to build their next nest. We need our front door to be accessible. Peace and Love to all mothers, mothers in waiting, and those who love like a mama!

“We can love because He first loved us!”

1 John 4:19

Marching On

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Faster than the speed of light, our electronic devices send information via texts, emails, photos, blogs, letters, invoices, payments, deposits, documents, and on and on … I literally cannot keep up with it all. The passwords alone are too numerous; none less learning all these new programs, two computer monitors with at least four programs opened on each at any given moment in my 8-hour day.  And ten different ways to pay ten different invoices!   Lickity-split like in the snap of the fingers I am supposed to know these details with no written instructions. My brain is fried. Frazzled and bewildered is how I feel most of the time since I started this job. Constant multi-tasking is not good for me or anyone from what I understand. My weekends have been much like the weekdays, just crammed packed. Change is inevitable.

I feel I am missing the seasonal signs; bright daffodils blooming, sprouts of green popping up, fruit trees budding, the busy finches and sparrows nesting, not fully appreciating the approaching Spring. Like a lightning bolt, family emergencies strike.  I cannot respond in a way to meet the needs, due to either lack of time or exhaustion.  Other people God appoints step up in my absence. “Home wasn’t built in a day … the days were long, but the years flew by”, Todd Tilghman sings.  I don’t want to miss any of it.  As we march on, February ended with another family emergency with Dean’s mother having a stroke. She was rushed to the hospital by ambulance, in a coma-like state for two days, but miraculously has come through. Marching on into March, she moved into rehab and will be in an assisted living facility very soon. The elder Galls have entered into a new season of their lives, needing special attention that a reputable assisted living facility can bring. As most stories end with a glimmer of hope, here comes baby Jeremiah Robert. He waited until the shifting stormy weather to be born, two days past his due date. Our ninth grandchild, another blondie baby Gall is perfectly made.

A Different January, And Now February

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A Different January, And Now February

What happened to January? The bustling holiday season went into a busy January, and finally a weekend in mid-February set aside to slow down, stay home, read, and write. My blogging and writing curtailed with a new weekday office job, weekends in Farmington, cottage interior projects, and reorganizing. Dean and I last-minute traveled to Eureka Springs, AR to join in my first evening of readings with The Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow. I shared a couple of classics from Emily Dickinson and Christina Rossetti, and then a few of my own poems. I experienced the beatnik snapping fingers. Fun! One poetry submission went out in January. I may be able to get one or two submissions this weekend. My life changed its course starting in December. After working for 18 months with part-time jobs after my retirement from my HR position with the local government, I decided to seek a full-time job where I have dependable hours. I started this HR position just before Christmas. Much more to learn with this generalist role in a smaller organization. Thankful it has been a friendlier culture. I continue to teach a culinary class one or two evenings a month. Diligence and time management are all the more necessary to keep to my writing projects.

One day out of each weekend since Christmas have been helping my daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids who live in Farmington, MO. Their house burned down Christmas night. They escaped with no injuries, thank God! They have a long road to full recovery from this tremendous loss. Miracles after miracles have been witnessed. The other day of each weekend are filled with home projects. The cottage guest bedroom had a face lift on one wall. Dean put up bead board, carefully cutting to fit around the window frame. We will paint the bead board an off-white when the weather warms up this impending spring and the windows can stay open for a day. It really lightens up the room, mellowing the cranberry red wallpaper and keeps to the Edwardian country decor. While Dean worked on that, I have been paring down and reorganizing drawers, closets, and rooms. We did a couple of furniture swaps between bedrooms to simplify access. Now Valentine hearts along with seasonal snowmen and snowbirds dot the rooms with a festive fever. I put together various candy jars for the kids and my fellow HR co-workers. I thoroughly believe gifts of love expressed from the kitchen can be given to everyone you meet.

“There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.”

~ Linda Grayson

“At the end of the day, I believe you lead with your heart. This is all part of who I am, no matter where I am. My heart is my heart.”

~ Cindy Marten.

Old Man Winter Visits Before Santa

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Old Man Winter Visits Before Santa

The Winter Solstice, the shortest day for 2022 visited earlier this week. The warmth of lights in each room kept the darkness to a minimal on the gray day. Then Old Man Winter comes and stays for a 3-day visit just before Santa’s visit! Fortunately, Santa’s elf, Dean delivered a Snuggie to me on the coldest day of the year. Perfect! I love it! An old blanket blocks the drafts around the window near my side of the bed. We are talking minus zero temperatures for 3 days; wind chills negative 35! Some of coldest wind chill temperatures in Missouri’s recorded history! Our 90-year-old cottage survived last night’s 50 mph winds. Smiling Mr. & Mrs. Frosty sit on the guest bed while the sun peers through frosted windows this day after the snowstorm. Trinkling water flowed from the heated birdbath as birds perch waiting for a turn at the water fountain and feeders. The warmth of homemade chicken soup filled the house before filling our bellies tonight.

After several months of searching for just the right job with good pay and enough hours, I finally started my new position this week. More about my new job in another post. Seeing the weather forecast, I earnestly prayed giving my concerns to God. By God’s grace, I worked from home these last 2 days of my first week. I had several virtual compliance courses to complete within my first 90 days of employment, and my new employer made accommodations. I worked on those diligently and finished late this afternoon. These answered prayers and miracles to secure my job as well as stay safe reaffirms that God is my Provider. I have a medical condition called cold-induced angioedema and urticaria that doesn’t allow me to be exposed to cold temperatures especially sub-zero temps. My body would blow up like Denise in the Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, my lungs would fill up with fluid in a matter of a few minutes of exposure in these weather conditions. From the warmth of Dean and I’s cottage I admire the social media vintage snow scenes, paintings (Magpie by Monet and December by Theodor Kittelsen) and memes about the cold. And I thank God for His provisions.

The Cold Hard Truth

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The Cold Hard Truth

I took cuttings from our philodendrons and ivies one last time. Then Dean and I brought our perennials into the basement, and herbs into the kitchen before the first frost, almost 2 weeks ago. Our plants are now ready for their first good watering indoors this cold season. Reality has set in with a hard freeze, the cold hard truth this morning, again tomorrow morning. Temperatures into the mid-20’s already. I rescued the two lone zinnia blooms to give them a few more days in a vase. We captured time at the parks with some of the grandkids these past weekends. I observed a little frog sunning one afternoon. Autumn decor decorates the door, porch, and house indoors. Extra quilts and blankets on the beds. I think we are ready for this 5-month cold weather season. Are you ready for the cold hard truth? What is that cold truth in your life today that is hard to face? I have a few of my own. God’s grace is sufficient for you and me. It has to be, otherwise, we could not continue. God is good to each of us, and His love surrounds us.

The Winter Solstice and Advent

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The Winter Solstice and Advent

Autumn weather lingers well past Thanksgiving into December, now on this winter solstice. My purple pansies still bloom on the porch. This month severe weather plagued our Midwest. Over 8 years ago a summer tornado went above Dean and I while at our greenhouse on Boone Hollow Farm in Defiance. That tornado touched down in nearby Weldon Springs and Harvester that Friday evening. I wrote my account of the experience in this blog post https://deannagreensandgardenart.com/2013/06/01/my-friday-family-adventures/. This year on December 10, another Friday night tornado touched down just yards from our greenhouse, leveling several homes, barns, and outbuildings in a 3-mile stretch on Highway F outside of Defiance. Sadly, one fatality. Farmer Chuck explains the hole in his barn door, “I can’t imagine the power needed to pick up the huge oak beam and throw it like a spear across the road, through the trees and into the barn door.” This beam was hurtled across Highway F from one farm to another. Dean and I watched online while the local meteorologists reported a tornado on the ground in Defiance. We waited to go out to the farm, went the following afternoon to allow utility linesmen to get the lines off the roads. By the grace of God our greenhouse still stands untouched. Mother Nature’s temper tantrum disrupted this rural town much like our granddaughter’s protest for her 2nd COVID vaccine. Wasn’t one enough? The community rallies around the survivors to clean up and rebuild as Christmas and the New Year approach.

This Advent season I wait for Him. I prepare my heart. “Make me blameless, white as snow through Jesus Christ,” I pray. “Keep me on task, direct me to Your purposes. Speak to me, Lord.” The word “advent” means “to come” or “arrive” in Latin. Holiday music, shopping, gift wrapping, decorating, and baking fill my unhurried post-retirement days. There was one Christmas many moons ago, 29 years ago to be exact when I was post-partum with my son that I was most relaxed and prepared for the holidays. Ben was due around Thanksgiving, so I knew I would need to get the holiday tasks finished prior to his arrival. I eased into the holidays at an easy pace and a peace like no other to this day because I prepared. My Ben was a miracle baby, and I knew God’s hands were on us. Let me approach this Christmas and New Year knowing Your hands on me and those around me. “Let the storms of this life dissipate.” As Alan Jackson sings …

“Let it be Christmas everywhere
In the hearts of all people both near and afar
Christmas everywhere
Feel the love of the season wherever you are
On the small country roads lined with green mistletoe
Big city streets where a thousand lights glow.

Let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let every heart sing let every bell ring
The story of hope and joy and peace
And let it be Christmas everywhere
Let heavenly music fill the air
Let anger and fear and hate disappear
Let there be love that lasts through the year
And let it be Christmas
Christmas everywhere
…”

“Let there be love that lasts through the year.”~ Alan Jackson

Autumn’s Gatherings

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Every autumn comes the day to gather the perennials indoors for their winter home, the basement. Dean and I know it is coming, and make room in the basement under the plant lights. Some years it is sooner rather than later. For 2021, it is much later. The cool mid-40’s mornings warm up quickly to warmer, mild afternoons. The weather forecast shows a probable frost in the 3-day forecast. I pluck falling gold, orange, and red leaves from the plants’ foliage and take cuttings while the perennials are outdoors. The cuttings we propagate for next spring’s pots. I gather a variety of these cuttings in water-filled recycled mayo and jelly jars. Both of my daughters have a love for our green friends so some jars of cuttings will get passed on.

Our perennials grew lusciously this summer, such a long summer season with rain. Our showiest pot is a Kingston fern with a philodendron planted together in April. I trimmed that thing three times already! Now gathered greenery fills our basement under the plant light tonight, their home for the next 5 months. I need to harvest the lasting herbs of mint, thyme, basil. oregano, and parsley, so the pots gather on the kitchen counter for tomorrow’s project. Our last single ketchup and mustard rose gets snipped and put into a bud vase to treasure just a few more days indoors. My northern friend shares her last rose in an amber vignette saved before Minnesota’s killing frost.

A nephew’s wedding brought us to a few family gatherings this weekend. Dean and I found some Edwardian era reproduction hats while on vacation in September to wear to the costume rehearsal dinner party. I found a suitable dress on sale from Victorian Trading, and Dean wore a dark suit with a vest and skinny tie, and both wore feathers in our caps! A fun gathering to distract from my sprained ankle, caring for aging parents, and work schedules. This evening our front porch awaits a gathering of Halloween trick-or-treaters.

Reprieve Or Not

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Reprieve Or Not

This 4th of July was the mildest that I remember for St. Louis. 80’s and low humidity. And this week following is not too hot either. A reprieve from the typical summer sultry stuff. We had days of rain, but a dry spell for a week where we actually had to water our potted perennials and annuals. My blue lobelia wasn’t happily blooming one morning, so a good soaking it received. Our lettuces and greens are fully bolted. Nature takes over and seeds are being formed to reproduce more. The bed of greens has produced scrumptious salads for two months. We had the last harvest for the season. I may get a few rows sowed for an autumn crop late in August. The rain returned this weekend, some storms with it this time. Feast or famine. The rains or dry patches.

The past few days in the backyard birdhouse a pair of Eurasian tree sparrow nestlings hollered at their parents for their feedings. Dean and I watched with careful observation as the nestlings grew, seemed to add feathers and chirps each day. The nestlings became fledglings in a matter of days. They took flying lessons from the back porch rail. After this weekend’s storm, I found one of the baby birds dead in the back yard. Not sure if its sibling had a better outcome, hopefully safe somewhere in the shelter of the trees. Life is so fragile. Death is so final or it seems. Another brood of Eurasian tree sparrows will hatch this autumn or next spring or summer. Nature and its circle of life goes round and round. Lessons to learn.

Pots and Sprouts

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Pots and Sprouts

Spring came a bit late this year. The subzero temperatures in February stiffened the green sprouts on bushes and trees, as well as the gardeners such as myself who stay indoors during the severe winter. The cinder block basement houses our potted perennials under timed plant lights. In late January I was able to get cuttings from those perennials and put them in water or planted in small pots of soil. They all sprouted roots. This past weekend I designed and filled hanging wire planters with organic soil and my new tender plants. I have four lovely planters with room for new spring & summer growth. Tender herbs (parsley, lavender, golden & lemon thyme, basil & oregano, and chocolate & pineapple mint) were purchased from the local greenhouse down the street, and repotted into bigger pots. Adorable, and oh does that pineapple mint smell delicious! Cannot wait to make some delicious sweet bread and tea with it. Begonias and sweet alyssum grace the front porch at Deanna’s Cottage.

I am about a month late sowing our greens bed, but an early spring/post-COVID vaccinations vacation to Arkansas, Texas, and western Missouri kept us away for 2 weeks. We saw more spring sprouts each hour we traveled further south. A bucket list item was to experience a field of blue bonnets, and we accomplished that. On Sunday afternoon we added more organic soil, then I sowed lettuce and spinach seeds in the bed. Very tiny sprouts of green appear in a couple of rows after 4 days from sowing. Where the greenhouse and screenhouse is housed, Boone Hollow Farm is lovely especially in the spring. The crab apples, pears, dogwood, and red buds are all abloom. The peaceful surroundings welcome Dean and I at every visit. And I welcome the pots and sprouts every growing season.