Mrs. T is on the move...

My blogging friend Mrs. T. has been waiting and waiting and has an amazing story about her process of  moving to her own little piece of heaven in the country.  Today is the day.  She and DH and one of her sons are on their way as I write this.

It brings back all kinds of memories of my own waiting-to-move-adventure.  She has been on my mind a lot today.

You can find her blog here: A Separate Path

Mrs. T - I hope your next few weeks are calm and peaceful but somehow I don't think they will be!!  I'm cheering you on from Shalom Engedi Farm!!

Adjusting to life and all about friendships

I've been thinking about moving here a lot recently and giving some thought to the differences of living in town and living in the city.  Besides the obvious changes of course!  I remember that I just wanted to live it, breathe it and some days I didn't think I could live a minute longer in the city.  The desire and the KNOWING that we were going to move EVENTUALLY at times turned me into a crazy woman with a one-track-mind.  Just driving back into the city after being away for a few hours felt like a wet blanket had been dropped over my head. It was a life-and-soul-sucking feeling.

I was talking with the farrier the other day.  She came to do Maybe-the-donkey's feet and while she worked we had a really great little chat.  She excitedly shared that since she had been here the last time they had FINALLY moved to their dream property.  They had been looking for years and had even had a tour of our farm before we bought it but the timing wasn't quite right.  Of course it wasn't.... because it was supposed to ours :)  She described her new place as 6 acres of peace and quiet.  She said the house needed some work and wasn't a "perfect" house but she is so delighted to be there.  Every morning she hears the birds singing and sees some birds she's never even seen before!  The quiet after living in the city is deafening.  She asks her husband almost daily:  have I said how much I love it here???  No honey - NOT TODAY!  

I could so relate...coming to live here was difficult for most of the rest of my family.  In different degrees they struggled with the move.  My DH had the hardest time being "so far" from town and "civilization".  He went to town almost every day for the first year we lived here.  Now sometimes a three or four days go by and we say:  oh yeah we haven't left the farm for a few days.  My kids had never known anything but the house in town and it held a lot of memories.  There some sadness but my daughter now says the worst thing about moving was that we couldn't get the antique wardrobe out of the basement so it had to stay there.  They have all happily adjusted and I used to bite my tongue so I didn't say I TOLD YOU SO!  (cause I did tell them so!)

I left the house in town without a backwards glance.  My Mom and I finished cleaning the house from top to bottom, locked up the doors and drove away.  I was so glad to be done with it and I couldn't have been happier about going to the country!  Every day here is such a blessing and to paraphrase of bumper sticker I once saw:

A bad day living on the farm is better than ANY day living in the city.

(that might be just a touch overly dramatic.)

If I had one thing that perhaps surprised me or caught me off guard it was just one area - friends.  I've always been a little bit different - I home schooled, cooked healthy food from scratch whenever possible, didn't go-with-the flow when it came to parenting or decision-making, decided I was less interested in what people thought of me and more interested in what God thought of me and wanted me to do with my life.  I took the "left turn in Albuquerque" and never came back.  Some of my friends would smile politely and once in awhile even seemed to be interested!  I just couldn't imagine that a move 15 minutes away would be the end of many of those friendships...but it was.  The distance and the lifestyle change was just too much of a strain for some.  I have less time and less interest so the responsibility lies with my choices as well.  I just didn't see it coming.

That made me sad.  It also had me searching my heart for why it happened.  I finally realised that life is a series of seasons and THAT season was over and a new one was beginning.  

For everything there is a season,     a time for every activity under heaven.

² 

A time to be born and a time to die.     A time to plant and a time to harvest.

³ 

...

⁴ 

A time to cry and a time to laugh.     A time to grieve and a time to dance.

⁵ 

...

    A time to embrace and a time to turn away. 

 

A time to search and a time to quit searching

....

    A time to keep and a time to throw away.

⁷ 

 (Ecclesiastes 3:1-4)

That made it a little easier.  I have an adventurers heart so a new thing is always exciting!  But I am also a firmly-rooted lover of all things old and stable at the same time.  I wanted to move HERE but I never want to move again.   My elderly neighbour used to tell me that he was going to leave his home in a pine box - and he did - that is my declaration too - especially since he was very elderly!

I've mentioned before that it is difficult to "break in" to a new community.  You're the "new people" for 20 years!  As time goes by we're feeling more and more like we belong here but I am so grateful for my faithful friends and family - the ones that have stuck by our family through thick and thin, through disappointment and failure and through this crazy adventure in country living.  Without them life would be empty and lonely.  As my roots grow deep here at Shalom Engedi Farm I  know that the future holds wonderful treasures of new friends, new promises and new adventures.

Perhaps if you have dreams of moving and change in your life you will need to cross this bridge too - I'm just here to light the path... and I'm so glad you're along for the ride!

Remembering a special person in our community...

The ladies of the Enfield community in 1955 standing at the back porch of our farmhouse.

One of the wonderful things about moving into a small community is playing Community Bingo - everyone is related to everyone and you will find connections that will astound you.

My Mom lived in our  village with her parents before she got married to my dad - that was a few years ago (ahem).  Turns out the man we buy our organic beef from was at their wedding and remembered them well.  My dear husband nearly had his ear talked off after finding that out!

A older friend at church told me many times that she used to live in Enfield.  By the time we moved here she had slipped into the fog of Alzheimer's and we weren't really able to talk about it any more.  So sad - she is a cousin to our neighbours across the road (and down the road too!)

It seems in our little-neck-of-the-woods everyone is related to EVERYONE - except us!  We have no relatives living here but we have dear friends.

One of our favourite older couples are Fred and Ruby Griffin.  Everyone calls them Uncle Fred and Aunt Ruby. We live in their old farmhouse and when people in the community ask us where we live we just smile and say "Fred and Ruby's old place" - even though they haven't lived here for 25 years.

Fred worked hard his whole life and at 93 was still out cutting the grass and pi-diddling out in the yard.  He always waved when we drove past and we waved back.  Sometimes on our evening walks he would be outside and we had some great conversations about how beautiful it was up here and the weather.  Fred was suffering with Alzheimers the last few years so sometimes the conversations were interesting bits and pieces about life on the farm and sometimes repetitions of things he'd told us a few minutes before.  He had a happy sincere way about him - always interested in helping others.  When another farmer on our road had an accident he took it upon himself to go over each day and help with the chores. He didn't want to be paid because then he would feel like he HAD to come - he just wanted to help out.

My daughter remembers meeting Uncle Fred for the first time when we attended a summer church service at the little church "downtown".  She sat and chatted with him for quite a while and remembers that conversation fondly. 

A few days after Christmas Uncle Fred slipped and broke his hip - a difficult thing to recover from when you are over 90. He passed away yesterday afternoon. We'll miss him.

                                           GRIFFIN, Frederick -

In his 93rd year

On Friday January 11, 2013.

Beloved husband of Ruby (nee McLaughlin) for 68 years. 

Dear father of Donald (Judy), Allan (Mariam), Gordon (Shirley) and Ivan (Susan).  Lovingly remembered by his grandchildren Greg (Donna), Jason (Jennifer), Andrea, James (Nicole), Steven (Celine), Matthew (Shelagh), Adam (Heather), Andy (Angie), Dave (Sarah) and Brad (Karlee) and his great-grandchildren Courtney, Katanna, Owen, Olivia, Charlotte, Clara, Eleanor, Sam, Ben, Denver, Skylar, Jayden & Sierra.  Dear brother of Celia (Rae) Cowling and Ruby Smith.

Predeceased by his parents Richard & Irene Griffin and sisters Verna, Vera & Clara.

Video: A self sufficient village in medieval ruins

I've never posted a video before but this one is a really good example of people working together towards a common goal of building a self sufficient community in the ruins of a medieval town.  It's good to hear that your mind is the biggest thing holding you back - they have done things that are nearly impossible!! 

Enjoy!!

Community and our new OLD table

In the years of WAITING-TO-MOVE I day-dreamed about what it would be like to live in a small community.  I grew up in a town that used to be small - when I was a child I knew almost everyone and certainly almost every adult knew that I was so-and-so's kid.  I remember walking into the post office and asking for the mail and getting Grandma and Grandpas while I was there - no questions ever asked.


Life just isn't like that any more - the simple friendships and slower pace of life seem to be long forgotten and perhaps more wonderful in my memories as I tend to remember the good things and forget the bad - or at least I was too young to know what was going on.


It takes a long time to "break into" a new community.  When I meet some new-to-me neighbours they inevitably ask where I live - my answer always used to be - in Bill & Barb's old house.  They would look at me quizzically so I would say - in Fred & Ruby's old farmhouse.  OH THERE!  Bill & Barb lived here for 23 years but I guess that wasn't long enough to make it theirs. 


One of the joys of moving to this community has been meeting "Down-town Donna" and her husband - they live where two roads cross so I teasing refer to her as Down-town Donna.  Donna is the niece of the original owners and is also the area historian. (and she taught my daughter and I to can all kinds of pickles last year)  We've spend many hours over tea talking about who-is-related-to-whom and what life was like back-in-the-day.  The other day she showed us some photos she's getting ready for a community project.  In one there was 14 feet of snow in front of our house.  She remembers being cautioned to not reach above their heads or they would touch the hydro wires.  The pictures showed every able-bodied man in the area digging out the road.  It was a near impossible job but they did it anyway. 




She also showed us a black and white photo of Aunt Ruby and a group of ladies standing by the back door of our home on a beautiful spring day... and there was a back porch right where I wanted to build one.


During our very first tea chat we got talking about my desire for a bigger table in the dining room.  They mentioned that they had an old wooden table out in the shed - it had been out there for about 20 years.  They had tried to give it to their daughters but no one in the family wanted it.  The table had  originally come from our farmhouse.  Would we like to have it back?  Sight unseen I said a very enthusiastic YES!

We dragged it out of the shed and put in in the van and I brought it home.  I loved the table just the way it was with it's worn look but it was far too small for our needs in the dining room so it went upstairs to be put to use as a card table for a year while I thought about what to do with it.  I had an idea but I needed to be sure!


This week I made up my mind.  The table was either going to languish mostly unused in the corner or it would have a glorious new purpose as a huge coffee table where we could all enjoy it.

I have my brave moments but big cutting power tools are a little outside my comfort zone - not that I let that stop me!  I set up the table saw and went to it.  I had to force myself not to think about it too much because I was cutting the legs off of a 100 year old antique table and it does go against my grain of restoring things.  When it was over and everything was reassembled we were all very pleased.  


We now have a huge coffee table - big enough for the food platters when everyone comes home to visit and a reminder that life has been happening here at the farm for 150 years or more.  I wonder at the many meals taken around that table and the conversations that would have ranged from politics and farming to how cold the outhouse was in the winter.  I suspect it may have been a place were hurts were shared and grace was said over the meals.  It feels right to be part of our everyday lives.


Welcome home table!

No man is an island...

I was considering what a typical prepper family might look like and I couldn't really come up with an answer. I suppose if there was one we-wouldn't-be-it. All I know is that I have no illusions about being an independent survivalist happily living in the back woods eating squirrels and sleeping in a lean-to. I'm not even preparing for that and I LIKE camping.

We're here for better or for worse and so we're going to make the best of it.

My DH has Muscular Dystrophy. He's mobile but hindered by his condition. I live with diabetes. My son has a learning disability. We've all learned to adapt to our collective situation. My DH cuts down trees sitting in a lawn chair. He has a most awesome cane made out of shovel handle that he uses for wandering the back paddock and getting around the farm. My son and I have learned to rely on each other to handle everything from lugging heavy bags of feed (which I could hardly do last year - this year=muscles!) or chasing wayward animals back into their pens. That means the big lifting jobs and chores are left to my son and I and any extra kids I can rope into coming over to stay for awhile and help out (thanks to Jacquie, Sarah, Danny and Courtney who helped out in the past few weeks!) Some of my own kids are married and moved out, some are away at school so even though I am prepping for a crowd most of the time it's-just-the-three-or-four-of-us.

I am preparing to live in community. I know that regardless of what happens in the future the answer is to be part of a community. I have a relationship with Rebecca the sheep shearer, Lew our handyman, Karen the donkey farrier, Dale the electric fence guy, my mail carriers Cathy and Dolly, my many and assorted country neighbours, farming cousins, church members, city friends, friends online and my immediate family. I will never be an island. I would be bored silly and I'd have to start talking to myself (oh- I already do that!).

I wonder sometimes if life would be simpler without all this community fuss. It means learning to communicate and have boundaries. It means accommodating people and dealing with problems when things don't go as planned. It means putting up with extra laundry, more mouths to feed, different sleep schedules, different personalities...and dirty socks on the living room floor. Deep down I know it's worth the effort but when I'm texting SHUT UP AND GO TO BED at 1am to my teenage house guests I have a few doubts - smile. In reality this IS life and it's exactly the one I want.

I don't know how to do everything but almost certainly one of my friends does. They aren't even necessarily preppers...yet. We help each other. I can be a listening ear or an answer to a canning question for a friend. They rewire my barn, help move heavy animal feeders or take my extra pumpkins (those are extra good friends!)

Who do you lean on? Are you in danger of becoming an island? No one can do it all even in the best of health. Reach out and start building community today. It will enrich your life now and most definitely be a blessing in the future whatever it brings.

Church Penny Sale

I had heard about the Penny Sale to raise money for the local church but I didn't know what it was...until a few months ago.

Last year My-Friend-Donna-who-lives-in-town called to give me the dates for the Penny Sale and I was really disappointed that I couldn't make it.  For me moving to the country meant getting involved in the local community and this was a great opportunity and I had to miss it.  Well - I guess I went on and on about how sorry I was to have missed it because Donna decided that they would change the night - just-for-me.  I felt so special! 

I didn't realise at the time that she had ulterior motives…(smile). 

Planning work began in October.  She and her DH tried really hard to explain the whole thing to me.  I must have looked as confused as I felt because she suddenly had a bright idea.  Come with me and a few friends to the Seniors Penny Sale the next town over and you'll get to see it all in action. 

After a full afternoon with someone giving me the tour I finally understood - my visual learning style came out!  It was a great community bonding event and a lot of fun. 

For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about here's the basics.

1. A wild and varied assortment of gently used and new items are donated to the cause by community members who set things aside or make beautifully handcrafted items all year long just so they can donate them.
2. All the items are set out on tables - much like a giant bazaar room  - and each item has a cup attached to it.
3. First you pay a $2.00 admission fee that gets you coffee, tea and goodies.
4. Then you buy penny sale tickets - One big ticket stub with 25 little stubs - all with the same number on them. (It used to be 100 tickets for $1.00 - now it's 75 - inflation I guess - thus the term "Penny Sale")
5. You cruise the selection and drop your tickets into the cups of the items you are interested in.
6. After a set time everyone settles in to hear the numbers being drawn and the winners have the items delivered right to their seats.

My biggest hint is to start ripping apart your ticket stubs at home - it took much longer than I thought it would and by the end I had the whole family furiously ripping stubs as the time to leave to serve the coffee drew near! 

It was a fantastic night.  Aunt Ruby's canning, Donna's quilted pillows and stockings and the bake table were among the highlights.  If all goes well you end up with the things you wanted - like the 100th anniversary commemorative plates and mugs from the local church or some quilted stockings! 

I spent the first part of the night serving coffee and tea and trying hard to remember everyone's names.  At least the faces are getting more and more familiar! 

DH and I sat with two of our kids and Mr. Farmer - the previous owner of Shalom Engedi Farms.  I was feeling sorry for him because none of his numbers were being pulled but then I found out he had placed ALL his tickets in the baking area.  When the numbers were called for the bake table he had a big grin on his face - I think he bought lots of tickets!  He really likes baking.  He even accidentally won a jar of jam which he promptly traded someone for more baking - guess I know what to make him for Christmas! 

It takes time to build relationships but it's worth it.  I love my small community...and I'm already looking forward to next year - besides I need to win a match to my quilted pillow! 

Boys - OH Boy!

We've had a rather exciting addition to our farm in the past week - Mr. Sheepie.  We did try to give him another name but we called him Mr. Sheepie while we were thinking about it and the name has just-plain-stuck.  Mr. Sheepie is a Shetland Ram - a beautiful light and dark brown mix of kinky hair with curly horns. Remember the horn part - that will be important.

He arrived via an ad on kijiji and was delivered by his owner who was a wonderful wealth of information of which I took full advantage.  In our conversation I also found out he was a long lost relative of the previous owners of this farm - insert - very small world - here.

Mr. Sheepie has a purpose on the farm like all the other animals we raise.  He's here to make babies.  Hopefully really cute babies that will one day provide us with pasture raised lamb.  He quickly made himself right at home and met the girls and Maybe the donkey without incident.  All was well in my little corner of the world until two days later.

The phone rang.  It was my neighbour.  She had never called me before.  A sense of dread came over me...oh are you missing a sheep?  I sure hoped not but after a description I recognized the escapee - Mr. Sheepie.  At this point - no worries - he was safely tucked away in a pen in their horse barn and I could come and get him whenever I was ready.  I don't know what we were thinking but we grabbed a halter and leads with the thought that we would just hook him up and walk him back home.  Oh how naive!

The neighbours took pity on us for underestimating how difficult it was going to be and offered to put him in the back of their jeep and transport him home.  All went well.  We were feeling like real farmers.  We had a problem and we had a solution...until Mr. Sheepie jumped out of the back of the jeep in between 4 adults and took off - towards the stallions.  Sigh...this is where things really go downhill.

We circled around seeing that he was headed for the field of 8 of the hugest horses I have ever seen.  Somehow to him they looked less scary that 4 adults with a bucket of feed so in he went.  The horses sensed the presence of the devil himself and set out to eradicate him.  They grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and swung him around like a dog toy.  They kicked (and thankfully missed) him. Meanwhile I stood back praying he would live while simultaneously calculating the cost of a new Mr. Sheepie.  My neighbours in a show of what it means to be the most-awesome-neighbours-in-the-whole-world went into the field to try to ward off 8 angry stallions.  After what seemed like an hour but was probably ONLY 5 very-long minutes they managed to grab Mr. Sheepie from the jaws-of-death and drag him - still unwilling - under the electric fence to safety.  Mr. Sheepie lived to see the inside of his own stall in his own barn that night. 

Now back to the horn part.  Yeah - you would think he would have been grateful but OH NO.  He has escaped his pen more times than I can count by pounding the walls with those lovely horns.  We have reinforced and repaired every-single-wall.  We would think THAT-SHOULD-DO-IT and he would bust out another wall, jump the interior walls of the barn and head for the open road.  So we've now chased him all over the property, down the road and back into the pen over and over like a repeating nightmare.  Yesterday he was standing at the back door when we came out to do chores.  That was the last straw! 

Tomorrow Mr. Sheepie will meet his match - Mr. Electric Fence.

A trip down memory lane - canning

When I was a little girl I lived beside Granny Pearl - after whom I was named: PEARL is my middle name - and Granny Irene.  These two elderly ladies doted on our young family by babysitting for my mom, buying my sister and I lots of pink baby clothes and being close-by family.  My parents started their married life in the basement apartment of their home and later built a house right-next-door.

I have wonderful memories of the granny's - the first was as a toddler playing with my toys under the quilt frame and looking around to see lots of old-ladies-knees.  They were hard at work stitching the quilt and visiting.  I remember Granny Irene's biscuits - warm-out-of-the-oven, baked to perfection with little brown spots on the top.  Biscuits are still one of my favorite comfort foods and nothing has ever tasted as good as hers - certainly not Timmies.  But one of my best memories of all was THE-CHILI-SAUCE.  I was too young to remember it being canned but I haven't forgotten the taste.  My mom told me she had helped make it once and all she could remember was it had lots of fruit in it and it was cooked for a long time.  It has tomatoes, onions, pears, peaches and a few other things. I just remember seeing the glass topped canning jars of yummy red sauce in the basement pantry.  HEAVENLY.  We ate that chili sauce for years after Granny Pearl passed away.  We even found one lonely jar in the back of the cold cellar about 10 years ago and I took it home to look longingly at it's contents but considering that by then it was over 30 years old I didn't dare to eat it.

Those memories have tossed around in my mind for a long time and it was all mixed in with my desire to move-to-the-country and live a different kind of lifestyle.  I started canning a few years ago when we still lived in town - first with water-bath-only items and then moving on to pressure canning some of the lower acid foods.  Last summer having just arrived at the farm and being far too busy with other things I didn't can too much except a batch of salsa with my daughter Leah.

This year things have changed!

I met Donna - whom I lovingly refer to as my-friend-Donna-who-lives-downtown which is a great joke because "town" has no more than 20 houses. We became friends over this past year when we got-to-talking on the phone about the yearly penny-sale for the local church (circa very-old).  We have many things in common and hit it off immediately.  A love for history is one thing we share.  She is the unofficial historian for the town and since her family have lived in the area for generations she is related to many of the neighbours and has a story to tell about many of the others .  Her Aunt Ruby and Uncle Fred live just down the road from us and were owners of Shalom Engedi Farm in years past.

She is an quilting artist who pays great attention to detail - ok - that's something we don't have in common but I am hoping some day she'll teach Lydia and I a few things about quilting so we can at least finish the quilt we started when Lyd was 12.

But the most exciting news of ALL - she CANS!  I finally found someone who cans.  Most of my other friends were totally unimpressed with this exciting news and seem like they couldn't care less...WELL I was excited!  

Lydia is home for a few weeks from school and she was willing to learn with me so we just spent 4 days at Donna's house together.  I would love to say that all the garden produce came from my garden but alas it has produced a great crop of weeds with a few vegetables on the side - I did grow most of the dill. But something even more wonderful happened - Donna sent out the word that she was going to teach us to can and several people offered to give us the cucumbers.  Some came from John and Joan's garden and some from Aunt Ruby's.  The tomatoes came from Donna's garden.  Knowing that she was willing to spend so much time teaching us and her husband was so patient to deal with the huge mess we made; that John and Joan and Aunt Ruby so graciously gave us the produce... all I can say is that living in a small community is wonderful!  Thank you all!!

Altogether we canned:

38 jars of dill pickles
27 jars of bread and butter pickles
2 crocks of icicle pickles that need to be canned at the end of the week
30 jars of relish
19 jars of chili sauce
Plus Lyd and I managed to do 17 jars of apple butter and 11 jars of peaches at home.

The chili sauce isn't the same as Granny's but I suspect I may never be able to duplicate the exact recipe because it won't have Granny's love- it's kinda like the Nasi Goreng thing - but that's a story for another day.

I think the Granny's would be proud! 

Home Inspection Day

STEP-BY-STEP we're moving forward!

The home Inspection went GREAT!. Nothing unexpected or expensive to fix and yet very helpful - as I thought - worth every penny if only for peace of mind.

We spent another lovely afternoon HAVING-TEA with the sellers and chatting about all kinds of things. They've told us some stories about our neighbours - apparently there is one who reminds everyone of Jed Clampett and another who has built his home illegally and totally off-grid down a closed concession right-of-way next to us. There are neighbours with large families and some older couples who have proven to be the kind of neighbours you want on your side when things go wrong - after a winter storm when a tree fell across the driveway for instance when they arrived within minutes with their chainsaws.

Roger Hein photographer

They told us about the penny sales at the small local church built around the same time as the house about 150 years ago. The church only holds services every few months since it was merged with another church. Holding the services allows it to keep it's tax exempt status and the penny sale proceeds help to keep the building in repair. The community gets together for Christmas parties in the church as well. There seems to be a really great community spirit.

We've had so much prayer support from our many friends and family members who have patiently waited alongside us all these years. It's a wonderful feeling to know they are all out there cheering us on during this process. Everyday is more exciting than the next as we see what GOD-HAS-DONE in advance for us. My mom asked if I had come down from the ceiling the other day - well - maybe :)!

Just as we were leaving the farm last week the owner shared something so sweet with me. They have been long time subscribers to the wonderful Canadian country Harrowsmith magazine and the renewal notice came in the mail. She realized they would not be needing it anymore since they are moving into town but she decided to re-subscribe anyway WITH OUR NAME ON THE SUBSCRIPTION!!!!! She then teased me and told me we had better be here when the magazine arrived!!

The journey continues...

My Eldery Neighbour Lady

I wonder WHEN it will feel real. I can't wait to wake up on a bright spring morning curled up under the blankets and open my eyes to find myself in my new home. Of course in my dream there aren't boxes and BOXES of stuff to be unpacked - maybe just a cup of tea beside my bed :)

How many more days Lord??? I have asked that question almost every day for eleven years. How many days?

The reality of my day today is washing windows and vacuuming up dog hair from every crevice of the carpet and communicating with lawyers and real estate agents. There doesn't seem to be an easy way to go through this process besides just getting it over with ONE-DAY-AT-A-TIME.

I chatted with an older neighbor lady this afternoon and broke the news that we will soon be leaving the community we have lived in for the last 20 years. She said she would be sad to see us go. She has been very lonely in the past few years since her husband died. In the back of my mind I was worried about leaving her without someone close at hand to call if she needed help. GOD IS SO GOOD he knew exactly what she needed. She was listening to a multicultural program on the radio in the language of her native country a few weeks ago and they made mention of the name of her first boyfriend from over 60 years ago. She was able to track him down to a nearby city and they have been in contact ever since. I teased her today and sang - Maria has a boyfriend - she laughed and laughed!!! I don't think she is lonely anymore! Great timing!!! Isn't that AMAZING!

Now to decide what to do with 25 cans of leftover paint and all the food in my downstairs pantry. I just don't want anyone to think I am preparing for the end of the world. Maybe I'll stick with my standard answer: Do you know how much teenagers EAT?

My long-awaited adventure of God-proportions continues...