Wednesday Witterings . . .

 

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Just a few more days now and it will officially be Spring. Well, okay, more like a week. But it is definitely waiting in the wings.  The river is still very high, having burst its banks on both sides. Its been like that for a couple of weeks now.  If you look over both sides of the bridge as you drive into town you can see huge swathes of it laying amidst the tree line.  It has gone down however, so that is good.

When I was a teenager they actually rerouted the river to take it further away from those residential streets at that end of the town. It was a huge undertaking and came at great expense.  At one time the homes in that area could look forward to flooding almost every year.  It rarely happens now.

The Annapolis River is a river that winds through our beautiful valley, which lays between two mountains which are known as the North and the South Mountain, the one mountain abutting the Bay of Fundy.  

We live in somewhat of a micro-climate here, which is ideal for growing fruit, making the Annapolis Valley one of the most productive bits of agricultural land in the province. 

I only know that there are parts of the river which are spectacularly beautiful.  I especially love it down near Paradise.  Towns are scattered all along it's banks and I suspect that is where Paradise got it's name, because of the beauty of the river in that area.

This was the condition of my lap for a good part of yesterday afternoon. My left knee has been causing me a lot of pain this week and so I decided to take a bit of a rest mid afternoon and put my legs up.  Cinnamon hopped on board and I took advantage of her being there to snap a few photos of her.

She didn't seem to mind overly much. She was just enjoying being on my lap. We have taken to doing this for at least a half an hour or so every day. She seems to really like this time we spend together. Nutmeg is usually off sleeping under the bed and so I think she feels comfortable enough that she can really relax without him coming along and spoiling it all.  He did arrive eventually and jumped up as well and then started aggressively bathing her, which she doesn't really enjoy all that much, so she jumped down and our nice relaxing time together was finished.

I am sure he does not mean to be a nuisance to her.  Its just who he is. Loveable and bumbling.

 

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I wish you could remember it too,

the nights when it was just you and I,

hushed whispers and stolen lullabies.

you would fall and scrape your knee

and when you saw my face,

you felt safe enough to cry.

I wish you could remember it, too.

when my hugs and kisses

could solve any problem in your world

and calm your fears 

of monsters in the closet.

I wish you could remember it, too,

those very early days.

~Jessica Jocelyn, Letters to Anna

I love the poetry of this poet that I have been following on Instagram.  She seems to be able to encapsulate the feelings of motherhood. I read these words and immediately I was transformed to those hours in the dark of night, in the early wee hours of the  morning when it would be just myself and my babies.  The middle of the night feeds. Oh I was so tired. I remember being so tired and yet it was also such a special time, a sacred time for just the two of us.  Moments that I did not have to share with anyone else.  They were ours and ours alone. Nobody knows those  moments but us. That is what makes them unique and special and a treasure I hold in my heart for eternity.

And I wonder sometimes if there is anything in my children that remembers those moments?  Is there a small space in each of us that remembers those sacred moments with our mothers, in the womb and afterwards . . .  moments where there was just us.

 

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When you were a child, did you play the buttercup game?  The one where you hold a buttercup to another's chin and ask, "Do you like Butter?"  If the chin glowed yellow the answer was in the affirmative. Of course.  Everyone likes butter in that instance. I never met a chin that did not glow with the yellow light from the buttercup.

But, have you ever met anyone that did not like butter?  For real?  I never have.  Not a one.

When we were growing up we only had butter in the house.  We were so lucky. My mother would not have margarine in the house. Just butter.  And we were allowed to use as much of it on our bread as we wanted to use.  And oh we slathered it on. So much so that my father would often ask, "Would you like any bread on your butter?"  He thought he was being funny, but we only found it annoying.  As an adult I can appreciate the humor now.

I have taken to lately enjoying  slice of sour dough bread spread with nothing but soft butter in the evenings. This is my snack.  A huge part of me would like jam on it as well, but the diabetic in me knows this is folly and so I resist. When I get to the other side I am going to enjoy as much white bread, butter and jam as I like and with abandon.

 

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I have been thinking a lot about this lately.  This doesn't mean that we will never experience sorrow or tumult in our lives.  Life is full of that type of thing.  Some lives experience much more of it than others, and we all go through periods of time in our lives where it feels like we are being bombarded by things we would rather not have to go through.  Nobody is immune from it.  I think this scripture means that we can find rest in Him, and  His strength, all the strength we need to get through whatever it is we are experiencing. Somewhat protected from the worst of the arrows  . . . but not totally.  Just a respite.  We often need the arrows. More often than not, they are growing experiences.  Humbling experiences.  I have never met a person that has not ever experienced any hardships.  We all have them.  I believe that it is what you do with, and how you cope with, these moments that matter most.  And I would much rather cope with them from the shelter and refuge of His wings . . .  His shelter . . . 

I am running out of time again this morning so I must wind this down now.  I don't know what happens, but hours seem to evaporate in front of this keyboard!  I am not complaining as I really do enjoy being here.  

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★

 *.˛.How wonderful it is that nobody

need wait a single moment

before starting to improve the world.

~Anne Frank  ° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •

What an inspiration that poor girl was. All these years later and her words still resonate deeply.

In The English Kitchen today  . . .  Ina Garten's Gruyere Omelet.  I tried to make an omelet using Ina's technique. Was I successful?  Not entirely, but I still got to enjoy a pretty tasty omelet!

I hope you have a wonderful Wednesday. (How is it that the weeks pass by so quickly!!)  Whatever you get up to be blessed and be happy. Don't forget!

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And I do too!