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RED IS BEST

I love stuff…..vintage/new, chipped/pristine, quirky/traditional…..but especially all things red. Well except for blood…and red ants and of course sunburn. But pretty much everything else.

The thing about red is, it doesn’t just sit there…it punctuates! I love its clarity and boldness and warmth. It says, Come over and touch me.” It’s just plain folk, not showy like aubergine or magenta. It evokes plump Okanagan cherries, juicy beefsteak tomatoes, little red wagons, First Grade readers, 50’s canister sets,

cabooses, workman’s plaid shirts and window-box geraniums

My back-yard potting station

 Are you with me? Feeling the love?

Red never seems to be the ‘in’ colour, but for some reason it is with me. Even when I intentionally exclude it from a room it sneaks its way in. It is adorable paired with turquoise, absolutely fetching juxtaposed with white, alluringly fresh alongside mint green….well you get the picture.

Breaky a la Lucille's

A section of my summer-time mantle (til I change it!)

When I was 3 or 4, I had a red plaid dress with ruffles at the shoulders and a tie that cinched in a great big bow in back. I loved that dress so much that I would sit on the back step and wait for it to dry on the line because for me there was no other. I was more me in that dress than anything else.

I still like to wear red and I like to think it becomes me. I wear it not to draw attention, but to express joy, wholeness, old-fashioned individuality. For a lot of years in between I couldn’t wear red. It was too happy and confident….not for the wounded soul.

Did I mention I love stuff? Well I do, but just to be clear, stuff doesn’t own me. Almost everything I have is thrift-store, bargain-hunted, refurbished. I love that because it creates a fun, eclectic look that is uniquely me and allows me to spend my money on the important things in life. I must admit I get a thrill from rescuing poor lonely cast-offs and giving them a new home and pride of place.

 Honestly though, if I lost everything tomorrow, I would shed no tears. Stuff can make my heart skip a beat, or make me smile or feel cosy but it can never satisfy my soul.  Only Jesus does that. His unfailing goodness, steadfast love and open-ended grace allow me to walk this earth secure, hopeful, at peace and delighted to be me.

                                                                                             

Try red. You might like it!

* Marianne Lucille Mace Loades Dunbar

AT THE CABIN

Just sitting on the porch swing, typing you a little taste of heaven.

(Note big cushions made from $2.99 thrift store, unused fabric shower curtain and rolled pillows from Target for @2.00 each.....SCORE!)

I’m hearing lots of tweets but they are coming from mourning doves, blue-jays, red-winged blackbirds and a host of other birds, not my phone.

I am surrounded by greenery, dozens of different species of trees and plants, some hundreds of years old and some new this week. They exist side by side, each one knowing its place and seemingly content to be there. Giant cedars and hemlocks raise their arms heavenward, pointing to the never-ending sky dressed for the prom in a blue chiffon dress.

I picked wildflowers for the table outside.

At home, I would have relegated them to the compost but here they take on a charm I find irresistible. It makes me ponder (Oh no, another deep thought) about how I treat people. Do I choose to love the beautiful, the popular, the showy, or can I see through to the unique worth of everyone I meet and celebrate each one for their own special significance and purpose? Can I let them shine too or do I take the spotlight for myself? I pray God births in me increasing tolerance, love, acceptance to see beyond my narrow tri-focals to embrace all of his handiwork.

Life is simpler here….no need to impress or produce….just rest and enjoy nature, the absence of timetables and e-mails, the fellowship of people, the blessings of grandchildren.

Perhaps a cabin in the woods is not even on your radar….it certainly was never remotely on mine, and yet here I am. But there are places of quiet rest you can take yourself…….a Starbucks----- just you and your journal, a bubble bath, a morning walk, a quiet corner while everyone still sleeps. Refresh your focus and spirit. Remember what is important, not simply what is urgent and in your face demanding attention. Little people need you, husbands need you. Your family and friends look to you. Draw your strength to be all you need to be from above…you won’t get it running around in circles trying to please everyone nor by burning yourself out proving your worth.

Remember who made you. Remember how precious, valuable, cherished, wanted, you are to Him. Remember the things that will last….not accolades, waistlines, titles, the right clothes, wads of cash, beautiful things…..but the people who have been placed in your life and your impact on them, whether positive or apathetic or negative. Your choice.

Francis Chan says,”….Nothing you do in this life will ever matter unless it’s about loving God and the people he has made.” That should give us pause.

Down by the Riverside

Just sitting on a bench taking in the view….peace personified. I am in Fort Langley, a 4- minute drive from where I live. It is quaint…like me… and offers feasts for the eyes and tummy….shops with antiques and collectibles, books, one-of-a-kind treasures, caprese grilled-cheese sandwiches in red-checkered cones, rich scoops of waffle- encased gelato, whipped cream and chocolate sauce-adorned mochas, elegant French cuisine (oui,oui).

But then there’s the riverside. Today the water runs stillish…just a slight whisper of breath from God’s lips moves it along. It mirrors its surroundings more easily when it’s not rushing pell-mell to its destination and today perfectly reflects lush greenery, curving hills, cotton-batten clouds…..and tucked to the side, a little white church, steeple pointed heavenward.

I can think here. (that can be dangerous) Mostly, my thought processes slow down. The worries and cares and obligations and hurts and to-do lists and balancing acts take a rumble seat to the serenity before me. How is it that my normal voracious appetite both in my life and on the screen demands action but here stillness feeds my soul and satisfies?  I am reminded of the psalmist words. ‘Be still and know that I am God.’

My recently-adopted daughter-in-law Christy posts beautiful photos of her prairie sky.

She too gazes in wonder at its vastness and beauty and peacefulness. Taking it in can’t help but birth a sense of awe and smallness as if we suddenly see ourselves not as the center of the universe (quelle surprise!)  but as a gaping observer of things far beyond our scope and ken. There is mystery here, but also soul-comfort.  We are not in charge…..there is a bigger plan……we can rest in good hands.

Praying you find your peace today.

A TON OF TOMATOES

Picked up some veg at the local market and found a plethora (I know it’s not an exact amount but I do love using that word) of tomatoes in $1.00 bags on the discount table. I scooped up a bunch of them, romas, vine-ripened, camparis, so pleased with my good fortune. (God is so good to me !)

 Raced home and cut up those babies….not a spot to be found. Laid them lovingly on parchment paper     (dollar- store  purchase) on baking sheets, sprinkled them with freshly- ground pepper and sea salt, slathered them with olive oil, tucked in peeled whole cloves and onion wedges and dotted them with fresh basil, and oregano and parsley from my garden. I was feeling very farm-wiferish.

I roasted them at 400 till they were caramelly and shrivelly…about an hour. The aroma was killing me!!

You could cool them and freeze for later use…

makes sauces very intensely tomatoey (go figure)

I chose to make soup by simply putting my roasted beauties in a large pot, covering with water (could use chicken stock), bringing to a boil and then pureeing with a hand blender (preferably red….thanks Vivian) or a normal blender which is messier and to be honest (not that I would lie) I make enough mess as it is (ask my husband Art)

 I had about 35 tomatoes and got about 12 big servings of soup which I froze in meal-size containers. I like to add a bit of milk or cream when re-heating but it’s not necessary. If mixture separates, simply blend again. Sometimes the flavour seems like it is lacking something….often a little more salt and a pinch of sugar will do the trick.

  I serve the soup with homemade garlicky croutons and a sprinkle of fresh herbs. It’s also pretty with a swirl of cream. Grilled cheese on pumpernickel and Lucille’s bread and butter pickles are its best friend. (Beg me and I will post the recipe)

My other fave thing to do with tomatoes is make a tomato tart. This is other-worldly m-m-m---m—m.  It is great with a salad for a girly luncheon, or add a cup of soup for a bigger appetite. Don’t worry, guys love it too.

You can make it in a traditional pie plate, removable bottom quiche-type tart pan or make a free-form one on a parchment-lined cookie sheet which is usually my choice….very rustic, farm-girlish. This time I’m making them in little individual pizza pans just for a difference and because anything individual is just too cute for words and ‘cuteness’ is my middle name.

After I roll out the dough (recipe below)  I spread some Dijon mustard on the crust, then a layer of mozzarella or other white cheese followed by a couple of layers of sliced tomatoes (you can use any kind, the more different ones the merrier) then some sliced green onion tops, garlic slivers, s and p, and fresh basil, oregano or whatever. I also like to add a bit of crumbled feta cheese. Drizzle all with olive oil, then fold and pleat the crust up around the edge. Before you bake them, brush the turned-up dough edges with a beaten egg and sprinkle with parmesan cheese. You can make these earlier in the day then bake later at 375 for 40 minutes or until you want to rip the oven door open and eat them RIGHT NOW!! If you can find a way to bottle the aroma….do it!

 You can also bake these and freeze them for later, last-minute cleverness. Just reheat from frozen or thawed out.

Just-out- of- the- oven delicious

I do hope you give these a try. They really are easy and you could also make batches of the dough ahead and freeze them to make it all even easier. Not every meal has to be meat-centered….trust me you will never miss it. Oh and it’s cheaper!

Happy cooking!!

So thankful for the abundance of fresh foods we enjoy and too often take for granted! We are among the most fortunate.  Purposing to learn gratitude will change your life.

Recipe for pastry

                               1 and ½ cups flour….use some whole wheat if you like to appear healthy

      ½ tsp. salt

     1-2 tsp. lemon zest….please use this…it adds that ‘je ne

 sais quoi!’

                  ½ cup of parmesan….scrimp on this if you don’t have a lot and save it to put on crust before bakin

     ½ cup cold butter

                                     ¼ cup cold water

Throw all willy-nilly into a stand mixer (red preferred) and mix till it holds together well. Roll out on a touch of flour to required size .Proceed as above. Stand back for accolades.

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WORDS

    And now….drumroll.......... the sermon for today.

 ( tomorrow I promise a lighter topic.....

A Ton Of Tomatoes!)

 Words. This subject is hardly rocket science, but perhaps bears looking at now and again. (For rocket science, you must consult Lyndsey, my cousin Heather’s daughter. She is famous in our family for working on the Canada Arm! I will use her as my claim to fame.)

    Well now, back to my lecture…I’m really talking to myself here, but feel free to listen in.

    The power of words is unmistakable. Their effect is instant…….. whether to inflate or deflate, enhance or detract, mortify or exalt, inform or judge.

    These are words I have had spoken to me ……they are the kind you never forget:

                       Daddy died tonight

                                       I’m leaving you                                                

       You had a perfect little baby boy but he was stillborn                     

       Your son has been in an accident

       We need to do another surgery

   These words are informational but the kind that are an assault to our every sense. They usually come out of nowhere and they jar us in varying degrees. We enter new realities we never wanted to explore. There is no escape.

    Then there are these words that have been spoken to me:

                                You need to go on a diet

                                Do you like your hair that way?

                                I don’t know why I married you

                                Your limping around is embarrassing

                                I can’t believe you can’t do that

  These are hard words…they are intentional, stabbing, demeaning, rejecting words about our personhood and they are the hardest because they didn’t have to be said. They are meant to wound, to debase, to elevate the speaker, to put us in our place. These are the words that can turn a sunny day into a maelstrom, plunge us into despair, make us question ourselves and our worth, breed hate for the one who spoke them, form our identity based on their remarks/opinions about us. They love to come back to haunt us in the night.

   I had such a night last night. Someone I love and have had a wonderful relationship with has accused me of something terrible….something that I would never think about doing…E.V.E.R. I was crushed. I cried…no chokingly sobbed. I tried to defend myself to no avail. My character was impugned. My faith was mocked. I lay awake composing a letter in my head  to express my sadness and present my case and mourn the loss of trust. I thought of Jesus and wondered again how he, perfectly innocent, could stand before his accusers and remain silent.

                It seems I still struggle to remember that I am not responsible for another’s unkind words/actions, but only for my reactions. If I choose to believe a lie about me, I can’t be the me I’m supposed to be. I lose out and so does everyone who comes in contact with me.

   But then there are these words:

                                Grammy, I love you

                                Mom, your love in my life has made all the difference

                                You’re my BFF

                                Where do you get your hair done?

                                I love your place

                                Thank-you for all your hard work

                                You are such a strong woman

                                I love how you reflect Jesus

                                When I grow up I want to be just like you

    These are the beautiful words, the ones we sing over and over to ourselves. We love them because they make us feel loved and because we know someone took the time and effort to speak them to us out of the largeness of their heart. I have two hatboxes filled with notes and letters and cards from my children and friends and family that I occasionally dump on the bed and spend a few hours re-reading and once again re-living the sense of warmth and caring they evoke. May, and Vivian and Marion and Sandy and Carol and Wilma and Judy and Karen and Patsy and others…like you my new followers.....you have blessed me with your words. My kids, Feona and Kevin….you have honoured me again and again by what you say and write.

    It makes me remember how little time it takes to send a card or note and how appreciated they are. 

     I am reminded of the children’s song, “O Be Careful Little Tongue What You Say.”  Sometimes we need to bite it really hard!! We are often so full of ourselves and think we are being helpful or constructive in offering our words of advice or criticism, but unless we know the recipient really well and have a trusting relationship with them things can go sideways very quickly. Proffering such advice requires much discernment and grace couched in loving phrase. It takes a very mature, confident recipient of such words to get past the ‘smart’ of feeling attacked to a place where they can sift out the kernel and see the truth about a shortcoming or weakness that is exposed.

  Perhaps it would be better to practise using our words to bless and build up whenever we can. You and I have that power to use our words for good.

  I. dare. you!

Some wise words to live by:

A fit word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver. Proverbs 25:11

Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. Prov. 16:24

A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger. Prov.15:1

The tongue that brings healing is a tree of life. Prov.15:4

A man finds joy in giving an apt reply, and how good is a timely word .Prov. 15:23

                                

Don't Make Me Sad........................

Me, 2nd from left (??)

The thing is……. I’m not old.

Oh the number (unlisted) might suggest it and I may look like it to you, wearer of the cheap lenses but I’m definitely still a spring chicken. Now my mother was a different kettle of fish entirely. She was old at this age. In fact she was even old at 20 years younger. Of course perspective may play a part in all of this but I’m sticking with my story anyway because I’m the one telling it, and I prefer happy endings.

Old means different things to different people. Some look at my white hair and admire it (you know who you are and I love everything about you) while others question my sanity for not colouring it.  I know it goes against all convention to grow gracefully into your dotage instead of fighting it toothless and nailness though you may be, but I've earned my crowning glory…every last follicle. My friend Carol J. refers to her equally stunning do as ‘Arctic blonde.’ We unashamedly save our money and time by going au naturelle. Let’s see, that’s an additional 20 Starbuck’s mochas a month….do the math and weep my chemically- altered friends. Don’t get me wrong…I love your choices… just not on me.  Now that we are of an age (not old mind you) we are free to deviate from the pack (we always were but somehow we’re bolder now, less inclined to call each other up in the morning to see what each other is wearing, free to take a risk and let our true colours show.)

 I have acquired much wisdom…..can’t recall much, but here’s a bit.

 I know better when to speak and when to zip it. I've learned that empathy doesn't always mean telling my  story ad naseum but sometimes just showing up and proffering a shoulder.

  I care less about dust and other inanimate objects and more about the people God brings across my  pathway.

Taking moments to breathe and think and just be, no longer send me into fits of remorse for my nonproductivety.

Bad hair is not an automatic precursor to a bad day

 Ice cream fixes everything….or make mine gelato…salted caramel please.

 Love can be hard but it’s worth it.

Learning contentment is the secret.

Following Jesus makes me a better person.

Those of you who are younger may look past me to engage your hipper (is that still a word….no, I don’t mean big in the hips) counterparts. I know I probably did and I will understand. But one day you will be where I am and you will see that the years are a blessing, not a curse. They bring comfort in your own skin, appreciation for life and humanity, compassion and confidence and a knowing that eludes you when life is hurricaning around you as you strive to move forward and prove your worth.

Wherever you are at today, squeeze all the juice you can from life. Regret is a terrible thing and happens often because we choose to exist instead of live.  We were made to live…….and if you don’t live your life, the world will have lost. It will make me so sad..........

GOTTA START SOMEWHERE

I am unsure about this blog thing??????????????? Several people I trust have implored me, encouraged me, believed in me.....yet, I am uncertain.

.....to what end?
.....who am I even writing for?
.....what unrelenting words will cajole me into giving them a voice?
.....do those words even need to be spoken?And then...
.....who gets the glory?

I confess....it used to be more about me."Hey! Look at me! See what I can do/create/master. See how I excel. Aren't I wonderful?" It is called seeking significance and I was in the extra-needy category, often desperate for people to tell me I was special, or at least okay

That was before I knew what I know now. I truly am special....one of a kind. I alone was chosen to be me.

My maker is my beloved. I believe in His wisdom to fashion me just so.....pathetic at sports, four-eyed, feeble-bodied, chocolate-craving, aesthetically-inclined, puzzle-solving, overly sensitive, idea-sparking, bargain-hunting, logic-embracing, coffee-fueled, hard-working, plant-loving, dimpled, trusting and full of optimism.

I purpose to authentically be me, utilizing my abilities and skills and heart... not to enhance my persona or gain favour but to inform, pleasure others, love extravagantly, bring a smile or laugh, to birth hope, to honour my Creator.

I hope you enjoy the trip and along the way discover and celebrate the one and only you.

I guess we're off.......................!     SCARY!!!!

my world's sweetest boys......scared but excited too!