After the flower comes the fruit, after the fruit comes the plant

Last year I was surprised and delighted to discover tiny flowers on the large asparagus fern that lives on my front porch in the summer.  This morning I stepped onto the porch and discovered what looks like tiny little green tomatoes sprouting:

With a quick google search I learned that the fruit of the asparagus is called a berry and will, apparently, turn red.  I also learned that those berries are poisonous, so I will be discarding them so the dogs can't sample them, therefore I may never know if they would, indeed, turn red given the chance.

While we're talking about botany, do you remember the avocado seed I managed to sprout after 30 years of trying?

Look at it now!

It's not the most attractive shape and it will soon outgrow its pot, but I've managed to keep it alive and growing for over a year now--and that's quite a feat!

Hmmm. . .

I'm thinking I really should post something.

There.  Done.  Something posted.  : D

Back to painting.  Maybe some new photos later today. . .

Sunday Hymn: O Lord Most High

Psalm 9:1-2, 7-11

O LORD MOST HIGH

O Lord most high, with all my heart
Thy wondrous works I will proclaim;
I will be glad and give thee thanks
And sing the praises of thy name.

The Lord, the everlasting King,
Is seated on his judgment throne;
The righteous Judge of all the world
Will make his perfect justice known.

Jehovah will a refuge prove,
A refuge strong for all oppressed,
A safe retreat, where weary souls
In troublous times may surely rest.

All they, O Lord, that know thy Name
Their confidence in thee will place,
For thou hast ne'er forsaken them
Who earnestly have sought thy face.

Sing praises to the Lord most high,
To him who doth in Zion dwell;
Declare his mighty deeds abroad,
His deeds among the nations tell.

Trinity Hymnal #44

One Year Ago Today

08-08-08

Easy to remember. Impossible to forget.

One year ago, Jake received his pacemaker/defibrillator. By Thanksgiving, it had literally saved his life.

Life is good. Jake has seen his first nephew born and baptised. He has seen his brother become a father. He has seen his younger brother graduate from high school. He is enjoying life!

Another opportunity to express our gratitude to God for sparing Jake's life yet again! His mercy and kindness to our family is inexpressible. And so we thank Him and praise Him and remember again His goodness.

I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart;
I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.
I will be glad and exult in you;
I will sing praise to your name, O Most High.   Psalm 9:1,2

Quote of the Week: Edwards

It was because the Father had from eternity a design of exceedingly glorifying his Son, that he appointed him to be the person that should thus triumph over the evil in the world. The work of redemption is the most glorious of all God’s works that are made known to us. The glory of God most remarkably shines forth in it. And this is one thing wherein its glory eminently appears, that therein Christ appears so gloriously above Satan and all his instruments; above all guilt, all corruption, all affliction, above death, and above all evil.

Jonathan Edwards, Christ Exalted

No Progress

Rain and high 90's with heat indices of 100 to 105 degrees all weekend have ground progress on the house to a halt.  I'm still sitting in my robe lingering over coffee, tallying up all the things I need to do that have been neglected while I've been out climbing ladders for the past month.

I think I'll go make a nice weekend breakfast and think about it some more.

Have a nice weekend everyone!

Some Progress

This side of the house is ALMOST done.  Our son, John, will be coming to paint the dormers one of these days.  But for now, you can see the old vs. the new paint.  I just can't seem to get a good picture of the color of the house--it always looks so gray in photos.  It's brown-gray, more brown than gray.  Really.  Right Dorothy?

Yesterday and today I did another small section to the right of the front door.  Tomorrow, Thursday and Friday, I will do the small matching section to the left of the front door.  It takes longer than it should because of the trees on either side of the front porch--there's just no easy way to set up the ladder.

Better get off the computer and go clean up my mess now!  I'll post more pictures when we get the front of the house completed.

Eve vs. Lily

Poor Eve can't see the lilies by the sidewalk and keeps walking into them--covering her head in a thick dusting of rusty red pollen:

I've washed her head and now it's stained a mustard yellow.  She is not happy.  I think she's cute.

Health Care Promises? Yeah, right

Kinda like that promise about no middle-class tax increases. . .

Finally; a rainy morning!

This morning's radar shows a big green, yellow, and red blob of rain making it's way toward Chicagoland.  Should arrive by 9-ish.  No painting for me until the rain passses!

My 'inside the house' to-do list is ridiculously long--laundry being at the top of the list--so I'll still have plenty to keep me occupied, but it feels good to sit in my chair and linger over my coffee.

I think I'll load some new sermons on my iPod.  Ligonier's series on Calvin have been marvelous.  I highly recommend them!  Here's a link to Sinclair Ferguson's Doctrines of Grace to get you started

Maybe it's a rainy day where you live, too.  Crank up the volume on Ferguson and get out the dust cloth.  It's time well spent.

Cutie-pie

I've been thieving pictures from John's facebook again.  I do not apologize. 

Sunday Hymn: Not What My Hands Have Done

NOT WHAT MY HANDS HAVE DONE

Not what my hands have done
Can save my guilty soul;
Not what my toiling flesh has borne
Can make my spirit whole.
Not what I feel or do
Can give me peace with God;
Not all my prayers and sighs and tears
Can bear my awful load.

Thy work alone, O Christ,
Can ease this weight of sin;
Thy blood alone, O Lamb of God,
Can give me peace within.
Thy love to me, O God,
Not mine, O Lord to thee,
Can rid me of this dark unrest
And set my spirit free.

Thy grace alone, O God,
To me can pardon speak;
Thy pow'r alone, O Son of God,
Can this sore bondage break.
No other work, save thine,
No other blood will do;
No strength, save that which is divine,
Can bear me safely through.

I bless the Christ of God;
I rest on love divine;
And with unfalt'ring lip and heart
I call this Saviour mine.
This cross dispels each doubt;
I bury in his tomb
Each thought of unbelief and fear,
Each ling'ring shade of gloom.

I praise the God of grace;
I trust his truth and might;
He calls me his, I call him mine,
My God, my joy, my light.
'Tis he who saveth me,
And freely pardon gives;
I love because he loveth me,
I live because he lives.

Trinity Hymnal #403

Quote of the Week: Reagan

Concentrated power has always been the enemy of liberty.

Ronald Reagan

Good Morning, blog!

Good Morning, Blog!

I'm sure you must be feeling a bit shoved to the side for the past few months.  I am sorry about that, but it can't be helped.  I just don't have time right now to sit down and write.  Standing on the ladder, painting and scraping, I think about things to write but when I come inside and get cleaned up, I can't remember those things anymore or if I can, I can't stay awake long enough to write them down.

So don't feel too bad.  You're not forgotten.  Someday it'll rain all day and I won't have windows or flower boxes to paint in the garage.  Maybe then I'll sit down and write something of substance.  (Well, maybe I will after I tackle the laundry and dust and vacuum. . .oh, and weed the gardens).

Anyway, until then, you might want to take a walk down memory lane (otherwise known as the archives) to remind yourself that it hasn't always been this way.  Oh, and if you should happen to chat with the books beside my chair, tell them I'll get back to them as soon as I can.

Love,

Me

Sunday Hymn: Thee We Adore, Eternal Lord!

Thee we adore, eternal Lord!
We praise thy name with one accord.
Thy saints, who here thy goodness see,
Through all the world do worship thee.

To thee aloud all angels cry,
The heavens and all the pow'rs on high:
Thee, holy, holy, holy king,
Lord God of hosts, they ever sing.

Apostles join the glorious throng,
And prophets swell th'immortal song;
Thy martyrs' noble army raise
Eternal anthems to thy praise.

From day to day, O Lord, do we
Exalt and highly honor thee!
Thy name we worship and adore,
World without end, for evermore.

Trinity Hymnal #18

Hey, You! Pet Me!

I was unloading groceries and apparently not paying enough attention to Buster. . .

If he wants to be petted and you don't stop what you're doing and satisfy him this is what he does:  he rolls around on the floor meowing and purring until you finally DO stop what you're doing and pet him.

Grilling Tip

Here's a quick tip for the next time you're grilling meat.  Stretch a piece of plastic wrap over your platter before putting the raw meat on it.

Then, after the meat is on the grill, remove the plastic wrap.  Voila!  You've got a clean platter for your cooked meat!

My Companion

Eve always likes to be near me.  Oh, she'll sleep on her pillow when I'm tearing around the house cleaning and cooking and doing all the normal housewife-y stuff.  But once I sit down, she finds me.  She lays at my feet when I'm at my drawing board or squeezes her way in between the ottomans if I'm on the computer. 

This morning I was painting near the patio, right outside the sunroom windows.  Tom came in to get something he needed from the house and discovered this:

See the corner of that window behind and to the right of the chair?  That's right where I was working outside and she knew it.  She has a guilty look, don't you think?  She knows better than to hop up in the leather chair but she just wanted to be close to me.

Aww. . . .

Quote of the Week: Edwards

. . .you are accountable to God for your time. Time is a talent given us by God; he hath set us our day; and it is not for nothing, our day was appointed for some work; therefore he will, at the day’s end, call us to an account. We must give account to him of the improvement of all our time. We are God’s servants; as a servant is accountable to his master, how he spends his time when he is sent forth to work, so are we accountable to God. If men would aright consider this, and keep it in mind, would they not improve their time otherwise than they do? Would you not behave otherwise than you do, if you considered with yourselves every morning, that you must give an account to God, how you shall have spent that day?

The Preciousness of Time, Section IV, Jonathan Edwards

December, 1734

Time

Even though it's hard work, all I really want to do is get the painting done.  However, real life does have a way of crowding in to prime painting time.

Today I have a doctor's appointment that will take up most of the morning and then I have to take Sam for a placement test in preparation for his college orientation next week.  Eve needs to have her stitches removed, so that means a trip to the vet.  Tomorrow afternoon I will be watching Elliott for a couple of hours so that Beth can have an ultrasound.   Then next week, I will have Elliott again for three days while Beth is taking a week-long college course. 

Progress seems to be grinding to a halt.

At times like this I reflect upon the wisdom of God in His sovereignty over time.  He gives each one of us exactly the same number of hours in the day; we cannot stretch a day to include four or five extra hours in order to 'get things done.'  I know for a fact that if I had the ability to do that, I would have abused time in many foolish ways for years and years.  Time can be wasted but it cannot be expanded.  Wasting time foolishly is a sin; God does not prohibit us from frittering our lives away in wasteful endeavors, but He will judge us for how we've spent our time.  He'll judge me on how I've spent my time.

I think I'll take The Preciousness of Time with me to the doctor's office this morning.  It'll give me something to meditate upon when I do get back to painting.

ETA:  Just followed this link to Richard Baxter's thoughts about wasting time.  Good stuff.