Archive for the ‘Scotland’ Category
Summer in Scotland (and here, too)
Posted in Beautiful Places, Misty British Isles, Scotland, tagged Avonlea Q Krueger, British Summertime, Happy Little Sigh, happylittlesigh, Poetry, Scotland, Scottish Poetry, Summer in Scotland on July 16, 2014| Leave a Comment »
The weather kept me guessing yesterday.
Couldn’t make up its mind between radiant blue and stormy grey.
Kept me running in and out to fetch the washing off the line–
rescue those white sheets billowing in the wind.
Reminded me of a Scottish summer’s day.
And so I dug out an old poem I wrote whilst we were still living there.
I’ve been told it needs tweaking, but I’ll share it anyway.
Did You Miss Me? Where I’m Going, Where I’ve Been
Posted in Books!, Inspirations, Misty British Isles, Scotland, tagged Avonlea Q Krueger, Bringing Up Boys, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Fiction Writing, Happy Little Sigh, happylittlesigh, Moray Firth, Raising Sons, Scotland, WWII on June 26, 2014| 2 Comments »
The posts haven’t come as regularly recently. Did you notice? But they aren’t done and the inspiration hasn’t stopped.
The whirlwind of life has kept going, providing me with more life-lessons than I’d sanely choose, if given the chance. And after the long bitter winter, I find myself still in awe of the heavy fullness of the trees and the strange new sensation of heat.
And so yes, still the words come to me, click together like magnets in my head, demand to be spoken, printed, heard.
But in spite of all I long to share, I’ve been otherwise engaged, and I’ve found there simply isn’t enough time in the day (not until I get a housekeeper like the Brown family in Paddingtion Bear, as the Professor suggested I do).
Otherwise engaged? Yes.
Lying on the sofa, mostly. Enduring the drug-like fatigue and debilitating nausea of the first few months of pregnancy. Baby #4 is due to arrive in December, and before you even think it, no, we don’t know the gender but are counting on the baby being another wee boy.
And when I was well enough to be up and caring for my family, holding up the walls and trying to keep the layers of crusted on food from becoming too thick, I’ve been writing.
Writing?
Yes! Fiction, this time. Fiction that I deeply hope I will get the chance to share with all of you.
And what is it about?
It’s set during WWII . . . and the present day.
A wee blurb for the back of the book might go something like this:
Two women. Two generations. Separated by an ocean. Brought together by a house.
So, yes, I’ve been writing fiction, trying to churn out a few pages a day.
Then there’s been the preparation for our Scotland trip. Oops, I didn’t mention. Yes, a trip to Scotland. A long one. We’re hoping to have the baby there. And I wouldn’t dream of going without you. So stay along for the journey!
Stay and see the view of the Moray Firth from John’s parents’ house.
Stay and find out if #4 is indeed a boy.
Stay and maybe even find out more about my book.
For today, I leave you with a quote–a thought to keep you soaring–aptly taken from the words of a German Christian who was martyred by the Nazis for standing up for all that’s right.
When There’s a Blip
Posted in Inspirations, Scotland, Uncategorized, Videos - If You Were There, tagged Allegri, Allegri's Miserere, Anna L. Waring, Avonlea Q Krueger, BBC, Happy Little Sigh, happylittlesigh, In Heavenly Love Abiding, Meditating, Music, Psalm 51, Reflection, Reflections, Tallis on May 5, 2014| 2 Comments »
A blip came to the sameness of my life
(that’s where I’ve been, trying to ride it out).
The news at first neither happy nor sad.
Changing everything and nothing
all at once.
Not like in the early days
of moving continents, moving cities, moving lives.
When I never knew from one month to the next
where I might be,
what British or European city I’d have the pleasure of exploring,
just me and my camera and my thoughts.
Here in America, everything feels so far away,
but of course life happens all the same.
And when you have three little men
all around you like a daisy chain,
(sometimes like a fence),
you have to move a lot more slowly
than you’d sometimes like.
And so the blip, and nothing’s the same and everything is at once,
and it all might mean a long trip to Scotland later this year,
but that is all later and not now.
And I can see just one corner of one piece of the puzzle of my life,
and seeing pieces can get me excited,
full of dreams,
make me fear that when it’s all together, it might not look the way I’d hoped.
Waiting is like that–hope, and fear, and anger, and sometimes peace.
Or the way I am today, realizing there’s a hand working those puzzle pieces,
setting them in place.
A hand, and I know it’s not mine.
And it can take my breath away,
seeing life return to the earth in the form of tender green,
acknowledging that my own life is not in my hands
(and thank goodness),
but that LOVE Himself knows all the days, all the plans, all the tomorrows of my life.
And that He not only knows them, but He’s planned them long in advance.
With one hand behind me, and one hand before, He guides me, keeps me,
though I cannot feel it,
and I do not see.
Some words stick with you,
drift in and out of your mind and heart,
and these I learned at our first church in Scotland,
surrounded by those dear ones who would become lifelong friends.
I remember the piano, the frayed red hymn books, the voices raised in unison
In heavenly love abiding, no change my heart shall fear.
And safe in such confiding, for nothing changes here.
The storm may roar without me, my heart may low be laid,
But God is round about me, and can I be dismayed?Wherever He may guide me, no want shall turn me back.
My Shepherd is beside me, and nothing can I lack.
His wisdom ever waking, His sight is never dim.
He knows the way He’s taking, and I will walk with HimGreen pastures are before me, which yet I have not seen.
Bright skies will soon be over me, where darkest clouds have been.
My hope I cannot measure, my path to life is free.
My Savior has my treasure, and He will walk with me.– Anna L. Waring
Though sameness,
or blips of both the smallest and most painful types,
so often leave me paralyzed,
from weariness or fear,
at times I remember
to embrace the stillness,
and in the sound of the wind in the trees out my door,
or in the stirring notes of my favourite song,
I am turned to Him who thinks of me more times than I can count,
who never makes even one mistake,
who knows all the good plans He has for me,
who holds all my moments,
all my days.
And I am left to meditate,
worship,
awe.
At all He’s doing,
all He’s done,
and in the fact that He’s not finished with me,
not just just yet.
Which piece of music or spot in nature stirs your heart,
is able to draw you away from the happenings (or non-happenings) in your life,
and helps you to meditate, wonder, and awe?
Miserere Mei Deus – Psalm 51 – by Italian composer Gregorio Allegri in the 17th century for use in the Sistine Chapel.
Shivers, shivers . . .
Sweet Treats – Comfort for a Messy Mind and a Messier House
Posted in Inspirations, Parenting - Raising Wee Men, Scotland, Uncategorized, tagged Avonlea Q Krueger, Bible, Bible Reading, Christian Mothers, Christian Parenting, Gardening, Happy Little Sigh, happylittlesigh, home school, homeschool, Homeschooling, Parenting, St. Augustine, Vegetable Gardening on March 27, 2014| 2 Comments »
I wasn’t ready for it. A restless night of twisted sheets, being forced from bed to soothe a crying baby, and strange dreams of being a gymnast, practicing my skills on the bars, had left my body feeling tired, my mind distracted and dazed. But it came anyway. The start of the day. Breakfast, and packing lunches, and making beds. Changing nappies, and dressing wee ones, and preparing for the school day ahead.
Before my boys came along I worked as a teacher, but this is my first year of official home education. My first year of adding tutor to my already full job description of chef, maid, nurse, chauffeur, activity director, police officer, and kangaroo (for the Admiral, who, at a whopping 24 pounds, still wants to be carried the day long).
And so an hour later I found myself, still dazed and unprepared for a day of living (let alone living well), trying to have a discussion about odds and evens with the Captain, all the while jiggling the Admiral on my knee and trying to ignore the General, who had squeezed onto the dining room chair behind me and in his very high-pitched three-year-old voice was speaking non-stop about wanting some cake (although I’d told him several times over that he had to wait for elevenses).
I tried giving snacks, introducing different toys, and even (though I try to avoid it in the mornings) putting on the television so I could get on with the lessons. But still, each soldier in my little army remained intent on being inches from me, if not in direct contact, each asking for something more or different or better from what he already had.
My head seemed to spin faster than I’d spun round those bars in my dream. I longed to crawl back into bed and find the unconsciousness of deep sleep. Or even the still, quiet surroundings of an empty house, where I could potter about, making sense of my jumbled thoughts.
To my right, the living room was strewn with giant colored cardboard bricks and scattered sofa cushions, the abandoned remnants of my attempt to entertain the younger ones. My mind seemed just as disorderly as the house, and as I attempted to turn my focus back to the math lesson, the thought crossed my mind that it would be awfully nice to have a real nanny and maid, so that I could be left to teach the Captain, and do only nice things with the boys (and perhaps sleep in a little on rare occasion). But of course that seemed as likely as my getting around to organizing some kitchen cupboards and planting the bell pepper seeds as I’d hoped to do that day (not to mention the school subjects we had yet to get through).
But unrestricted sleeping hours and empty houses are not some of the frequent luxuries of mummies of armies of wee boys, and in the chaos I longed for some little escape, some little treat to bring me comfort, and temporary escape from the swirl of color and noise that surrounded me.
A square of dark chocolate, perhaps?
A cup of espresso, topped up with raw sugar and heated milk?
A few minutes to skim the news feed on my Facebook account?
These are the things I often turn to bring drops of sanity to my busy, noisy day, but yesterday as I contemplated what method of escape I would employ, I thought of a different way. Down the hallway on my bedside table sat my black leather Bible, which I hadn’t yet touched that day.
And I didn’t have time, not just then, to pour over it as I would have liked to do. But I did have the time–as long as it would have taken me to slip into the kitchen to devour a square of chocolate–to flip to the Psalms, and the sweet morsels of goodness found there.
O taste and see that the Lord is good; How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him!
– Psalm 34:8
And I wondered as closed my Bible, felt peace wash over me like a cup a chamomile tea, what I’d been missing.
Although there isn’t anything wrong with coffee, and chocolate, and Facebook news, what had I been missing by reaching for them instead of the Living Water found there in the Psalms, so accessible, so available to me?
For while our SIN can be easy enough to spot (though at times it’s not), there are deeper, sweeter paths of closeness to the Lord which we can go a lifetime and not discover. And what if those paths, those changes I so long to see in myself, can be reached not only through long segments of time spent in the Word, but through little moments of calling out to God for strength, and reaching for little pieces of His word?
What change could even one pure morsel of eternal truth make to my day?
After taking the time to read from the Psalms, I went on to finish the school day, plant those pepper seeds, and even clean out my kitchen junk drawer!
What a difference the reminder of Jesus’ love and presence had made.
In Him is strength, beauty, refuge, truth, and the nourishment I need to help me view my boys, my home, my life in the light of eternity.
The eternity that continues in the next life,
the eternity in which we live today.
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Our Favourite Drink
Posted in Books!, Scotland, Uncategorized, tagged Alexander McCall Smith, Botswana, No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, Problem Solving, Tea on February 28, 2012| 1 Comment »
TEA IS THE SOLUTION TO EVERYTHING
~ Chapter title from The Full Cupboard of Life by Alexander McCall Smith
As the gentleman is Scottish, we had better not argue the point with him. Besides, I believe he explains the real meaning behind this statement later in the chapter. “Tea, of course, made the problem seem smaller . . . ”
Alexander McCall Smith
happy little sigh 