Waiting is HARD!

Waiting at the Window www.midweststoryteller.com

It seems we’ve been waiting for so many things in our lives. The item at the top of our list has finally arrived.  Pookie and her hubby have just welcomed a new baby girl which means that Lil’ Snookie now has a baby sister!  Oh, the anticipation! 

From the minute Lil’ Snookie knew there was a tiny baby in Mama’s tummy, he declared that he would have a sister, she would look like him and that he would call her Fruity Pebbles.  Though his mommy and daddy might have preferred to wait and be surprised on the big day, his insistence that he would have a sister caused them to open the sealed envelope the doctor had given them just in case they had to explain to him that sometimes God thinks you need a brother. 

Well, sister it was!  At various times in the week following the big news, Big Brother would look up from whatever toy or activity he was engaged with, catch my eye and with a knowing smile, softly say, “I was right, Grandma.”

And then we waited.  At times the months seemed to fly by and at other times it seemed that Fruity Pebbles was taking her own sweet time.  Overall, it was a fun type of wait (except for Mama in those last few weeks).

Little did we know that Lil’ Snookie was in for a different type of wait and this time it would not be fun.  Though he knew and seemed to understand that Mama and Daddy would go to the hospital so the doctor could help bring Fruity Pebbles out into the world and he would be having a sleepover at our house, something just didn’t seem right about the whole thing in his little heart.  Though he visited every day, an extended hospital stay proved to be agonizing.  This type of waiting hurt.

Do we thrive in times of waiting?  Fruity Pebbles certainly did, as was proved by her robust size and appetite when she arrived.  And, by the way, she does look just like her brother.

I once heard the Bible teacher Joyce Meyer say that we may as well get used to waiting on God because we are going to spend the greater part of our lives doing it.  I have found this to be true, but I’m not sure it makes it any easier.

When people hear that my book series is coming out soon and that a screenplay for a series is being written based on it, many of them say something to the effect that I’m becoming an overnight success.  Overnight?  Hardly.  I have had to wait on myself to finish a rough draft, tediously gone through edits, waited for appointments and opportunities to meet with agents and publishers, waited for them to review my manuscripts, waited for replies, waited for contracts. Now I’m waiting again for the final edit and cover art to be completed while I work on another edit of the next book in the series. This last decade has hardly seemed overnight to me.

Through the years I’ve waited, as many of you have, for answers to prayers whether they’ve concerned health, relationships or finances. I can’t say that any of those waits have been fun. Waiting is not something you learn to do and become so proficient at that it ceases to be a disrupting factor in your life.  Waiting is something that you just do.  The only thing you learn is how to trust God and try not to get on other people’s nerves while you’re doing it.

Once the text message arrived that Mama and Daddy were on the way home (accompanied by a photo of Fruity Pebbles all fastened up in her car seat), Lil’ Snookie knew the time was near.  Soon he would be joined by the ones he loved most so that they could all go home and be a family together and there would be no more tears.  He took up his post at the window to watch for that familiar vehicle to pull into the driveway and waited with an extra dose of hope.

He left his post by the window a time or two out of sheer frustration and rolled around on the sofa for a bit while he asked me how many more minutes it would be.  I’d give my best estimate and he would return to his post and do the only thing he could – wait.  We are like that, aren’t we, when we sense that our hopes are on the verge of being fulfilled?

In the difficult waiting times, I lean on Scriptures like these –

  • Isaiah 64:4: “Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him.”
  • Habakkuk 2:3: “For still the vision awaits its time; it hastens to the end—it will not lie. If it seems slow, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.”
  • Lamentations 3:25-26: “The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.”

The last several months have offered Smuffy and me several instances in which we had no choice but to pray and wait and somehow make the choice to thrive in the waiting.  God has been faithful and He has seen us through.

There is no escaping the fact that there are more waiting times ahead.  Some come unexpectedly and some you can see coming a mile away.  I know full well that, short or long, there will be a wait once this screenplay is finished and studios begin to look at it.

Stress can be a necessary and good thing in our lives.  It can also be a killer.  Check out Part 1 and Part 2 of how to Fire Yourself and Re-hire Yourself by surrendering guilt so that the demands that you put on yourself and allow others to put on you can become more reasonable!

Don’t forget to share this with friends and family on your social media. Someone might be waiting for a bit of encouragement in their journey.

How about you?  Do you struggle through the long, hard waiting times?  Leave a comment and let me know what it is that sees you through and gives you hope.

Changing Time

It snowed here on October 26th – the first snowfall of the season and a bit jarring for someone like me.  I hadn’t even made the switch from Daylight Savings Time yet and that plunge into darkness is bad enough. I have a “love fall/hate winter” thing going on and I like to put the snow event off till Christmas Eve.  Make that dusk on Christmas Eve with somewhere between two and four inches.  However, I do have to admit there’s beauty in a frozen rose.

Frozen Joseph's Coat Rose

Today it was once again so beautiful that I put my ‘Lil Snookie in the stroller and we went for a long walk with not so much as a jacket.  I’m soaking up as many of these gems as God grants me before the actual Midwest Winter Nasties set in, unpack their frosty bags and refuse to leave until April except for brief episodes of hiding just to tease.

Recently, at my local writers group, we were challenged to write, on the fly, a story focusing on this time of year.  I thought I’d share mine with you today.  The prompt brought to mind the emotions that, for me, change with the season.

A nip in the air tells me that it’s changing time.  It happens every autumn.  For me, it comes as a strange mix – something between a child-like ecstasy and PTSD.

Soon the leaves will change and the inner voice tells me, so must I.

For ten minutes or so, I’ll lose myself in a world of cozy sweaters, chunky jewelry, scarves, boots and jeans.  Then, then some random distraction jerks me out of my reverie, my eye catches the strappy patent leather sandals I’ve left near my chair and I want to hug them and beg, “Please, don’t go!”

Each new fall sign brings another urge.  “Plant mums!” it says.  “What’s wrong with you?  Why are there no pumpkins on your porch?”  Yet, next to the front steps, my hot pink petunias wave and I wave back, “Please, don’t go!”

I make huge lists.  I need to stock up!  How squirrels do this without pen, paper and a phone app or two – I have no idea.  Herbs, spices, flours, broths, sauces and a bulk bag of chocolate (lest a blizzard set in) are all put on the list.  Three or four stores and two or three days later, the shelves are loaded, the checkbook’s been unloaded and I’m starting to calm as I take my tour of the estate and breathe the air that is now crisp.  I might be ready for colored leaves now.  That is, until my eyes fall upon the rows of pots clustered in the southern flower bed.  I feel an only too familiar pang at the sight of basil, parsley, sage, lemongrass and all the others and I stifle the urge to beg them, “Please!  Don’t go!”

How can this glory and this vibrancy bring this sadness?  Years of experience have proved that winter will pass, but it will pass slowly.

It seems my moods in autumn vary as much as do the many-colored leaves.

Autumn's First Snow www.midweststoryteller.com

How about you, Dear Reader?  Do you make a smooth transition into winter or do you curl up and feel as encrusted and weighed down as a rose that droops beneath the weight of unwelcome change? 

Science tells us, most unromantically, that it’s merely the chlorophyll’s exit that enables us to see the sugar in the leaves that up until now it’s kept hidden from view.  Perhaps that should serve as a great reminder to us to savor the sweetness of each beautiful autumn day and thrive in this beautiful season.

Autum is About to Tell Us How Beautiful It Can Be to Let Things Go  www.midweststoryteller.com

How do you savor your autumn days?  Long walks?  Special events?  Scenic drives?  Leave a comment and share your favorite fall activities.

The Happiest New Year!

Perhaps you’ve been wondering if Midwest Storyteller has fallen off a cliff or something – but no, what I have been doing is falling in love.

I’ve been a little too preoccupied to think about blogging for the last few weeks because we’ve started off the new year oh, so right!

The Grandma Life is SWEET!  www.midweststoryteller.com

This 9 pound, 9 ounce bundle of love managed to squeak in at the tail end of 2019, leaving Smuffy and me changed forever. We can’t get enough of staring at that fresh, sweet face and twiddling those precious fingers and toes. And the squeaky little noises and the smiles – don’t be telling us that’s just gas – every one is meant just for us.

We’re new at this grand-parenting thing, but we’re convinced that we’ll have no trouble falling into the groove. This boy is a miracle and his mommy and daddy are amazing us with the the natural way they take to parenting. We knew they had it in them all along!

Look for more at Midwest Storyteller in the days ahead – just as soon as I can tear myself away from the nuzzling and the head kissing.

If your 2020 is as blessed as mine, your world is going to be fabulous!

May you be blessed in each and every day that lies ahead!

I’m Still Here!

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. It’s late in the day for me to be saying “Hey there!” to all my readers, but this day has been doubly special and I wanted to share.

For those of you who may not be close enough to hear me shouting from the rooftops for the last five months, I am pleased as punch to announce that I am soon going to be a grandma for the first time! I spent the afternoon at a lovely baby shower for my radiant daughter, watching family and friends bless her and welcome our new little one.

Becoming Grandma www.midweststoryteller.com

Is that exciting, or WHAT!?

The thing that makes it doubly sweet is that today is also an anniversary for me. No, it’s not the day I married Smuffy.

Twenty years ago, I got that call from the doctor that no one wants. When you hear, “The biopsy does show cancer”, everything shifts. Life is different. I was young. My daughter was not yet fifteen. I was homeschooling and to me it was a calling. Up until then, when I overheard people with health problems saying, “Well, you know, I just take one day at a time”, I thought it was canned conversation – something you say when you don’t know what else to say. Over the next several months, I learned what it meant to take one day at a time – to do what I could when I could and let everything else go.

The world calls us cancer survivors. I refused to adopt that term for myself. In my mind, it forms a picture somewhat similar to someone who has been rescued from months lost in a jungle after a plane crash and crawled back to civilization on their belly and elbows – someone who will never be the same again. By the grace of God and carried on the prayers of family and friends, I came through not as someone battered, scarred and fearful, but as a winner! The enemy that attacked me is defeated and the trophy is mine!

You’ve probably heard it said that the best revenge is a life well lived. What better revenge can I have than to mentor other people with their health and help them to thrive? If I can help someone avoid the path leading to failing health, then I am a success.

Two decades later, I got to glory in this shower welcoming my grandchild rather than…well, you know…the alternative.

So, I sent myself a card because…why shouldn’t I? I couldn’t let this day close without inviting you all to join me in wishing myself a “Happy 20th Healthyversary!”

May you learn, grow and thrive in body mind and spirit! God is good and I am blessed!

You can find more of my story on my Thrive! page and lots of healthy recipes and great healthy tips are always being added to my Food Freedom page.

Winter’s Last Stand

Laughter is the Sun midweststoryteller.com

As winter lifts her white robes and moves around the stage prior to her big exit, the audience here in the Midwest is waving the back of its hand at her to shoo her behind the curtain and out the stage door before they give way to applause.

Nevertheless, we cannot deny her beauty at times.  She does put on some stunning performances to help us tolerate the bleak tragedies that seem to play out day after frozen, cold day.

When a heavy snow falls, creating an etching from the usual blur of the woods behind our house, we do have to stop and view it as a winter paradise.

Snowy Woods midweststoryteller.com

Branches laden with heavy snow droop down to display their beauty right at eye level, begging us to take a few moments to notice that they’ve turned to lace.

Snow Laden Branches midweststoryteller.com

I hate winter.  My preference would be to have beautiful fall colors and jacket weather right up until dusk on Christmas Eve, at which time around two inches of snowfall would blanket the earth, bringing a respectful hush over all creation.  Then, just to be fair, I’d allow it to do it’s thing right up until January 2nd and then we’d all go back to sunshine and jackets again.

Though we long for outdoor activities and that roasty-toasty feeling of the sun warming our backs as we bend over new growth in flower beds, our last round of snow reminded us that we will be waiting a little while for those joys.

We'll Swing Later midwetstoryteller.com

It’s difficult for me to feel like I’m thriving in winter.  At times, it takes its toll.  There are only so many gray days I can take in a row before a gloomy mood sets in.  Phoebe June’s antics keep me cheery, along with outings for lunch with friends or Smuffy on decent days and a stack of giggle-inducing P. G. Wodehouse books.

There have been winters that left me feeling like I’ve taken a hit – a bit like our big pine tree is feeling right now.

Broken Snowy Pine midweststoryteller.com

Like the tree, I suppose it might do me good to have some weak areas fall away to allow light and air enter and new growth to fill in the empty places when spring arrives.

Even now, as I conclude these observations, I realize what a terrific writer I must be, because if I can romanticize this awful stuff, I can romanticize anything!  I’ve spent this afternoon writing, ignoring the fact that there is an ice storm warning going on out there!

Upon hearing Smuffy’s truck in the driveway just now, I left my lair to greet him.  He entered the back door, telling me he’d just had a bit of excitement.  He’d parked the truck at the top of our driveway’s hill in hopes of being able to leave for work in the morning and while moving the car out of range of an ice-laden tree limb that made him a little nervous, he heard a scrunching sound.

We’re blessed that he’d parked the truck with the wheels turned, because it missed the car, three trees and Smuffy as it slid all the way down the driveway and into the neighbors’ yard.  If a fallen limb left over from the last round of nasty weather hadn’t stopped it, who knows where it might have ended up! I could use another chapter of Wodehouse after that.

Ice Skating Truck midweststoryteller.com

My little afternoon romantic fling with winter’s beauty is over now.  It’s lost its appeal again and it’s time for a break-up!  It’s time for SPRING! 

To all my readers who live in winter’s grip – hang in there!  Try to think of March as only days away.

To all my hyacinths – you should have listened last week when I told you to pull your heads back below ground because those two sixty degree days were just a cruel joke!

Need a spring preview to chase away the gray? Take a tour through my garden in full bloom here!

If the gloom requires a good laugh, make a cup of tea and settle down with the stories on my “Life With Smuffy” page. You’ll feel better in no time. He isn’t the only one who’s here to entertain – the “Laugh” page has more!

Questions?  Comments?  Click on “Leave a comment”.  I’d love to hear your thoughts on winter, wherever you live!

Thrive Where You’re Planted!

The glories of summer are leaving us. The autumn equinox has issued its official word – “It’s over, folks!” The Midwest will soon be ablaze with reds, golds, and tawny browns that blend with summer’s remaining greens and make us gasp in awe as we round a curve or crest a hill and find ourselves face-to-face with a freshly-painted landscape.

I can’t think of a single person who has said to me, “I hate fall.” However, as much as I bask in the cooler days and the beautiful scenery, I’m always a little saddened by it. It brings that little ripple of chilly air around my collar that whispers, “Winter’s on the way!” Not that I have anything against books, fuzzy blankets and hot chocolate – I simply recoil at the thought of frigid days when those things are not available. I don’t do cold – and that’s an understatement.

I hope that if your year has been as busy as mine, you took time out for a little “thriving time” in your own little corner of the world. I promised myself early in the year that this year I would document the beauty around me. Other than events with other writers within the state, Smuffy and I didn’t get far from home. This year, home has held us fast with major projects and at times it’s been a challenge to enjoy down-time, mainly because it came along in such itty-bitty, tiny chunks! I did keep my promise to myself, however, so let’s take a tour of the “estate”, as we like to call it.

In the Spring, a splash of color is downright titillating after months of brown. Green is the new thing and other happy colors join in to brighten up the landscape. The first thing (besides a colorful weed or two) to pop up in my yard are the old-fashioned hyacinths beside my driveway.

Old Fashioned Hyacinths www.midweststoryteller.com

I chose this spot for them on purpose. They bloom when it’s still too cold for me to be outside much, so they’re right beside me on my way to and from the car. I always keep some in a vase. The smell rivals that of lilacs and gives me hope for warmer days ahead.

At the same time, or soon thereafter, these beauties seem to decorate every yard in town, waving a cheery hello to spring. I adore daffodils, but they, like the hyacinths, leave me all too soon.  These are a double-ruffle variety.

Daffodils www.midweststoryteller.com

As I write this, I realize that no tour of the estate is complete without photos of the things that every yard in this part of the Midwest seems to have at least one of – a lilac bush, a peony bush and a patch of colorful iris. They fill April and May with color and fragrance. It seems, however, that I was so busy sniffing that I didn’t take photos of those.

Moving on to May…

Don Juan Roses www.midweststoryteller.com

It’s always special when your sweetie sends you roses, and these are the best flowers Smuffy ever sent me! These climbing Don Juan roses are gorgeous. Most climbing roses have very short stems and, therefore, aren’t something you can put in a vase, but not the Don Juans. The foliage grows to about twelve feet in height and the stems are nice and long. I included a photo of a bunch in a vase so you can see how tall they are. (This is not a small vase.) The blooms are a deep, romantic red and as they open…and open…and open, it seems the petals are never-ending. I’d recommend these stunners for anyone’s flower garden. I love you, Smuffy!

For color in the front yard, my go-to plants are Tidal Wave Petunias. There are all sorts of Wave varieties now, but once I tried the Tidal Wave, I knew I’d found something I could depend on. Each plant spreads it’s top growth out over a huge area, blooms and blooms and blooms and, best of all, never needs dead-heading!

Tidal Wave Petunias www.midweststoryteller.com

In this photo (in which you are instructed to ignore the fact that Smuffy isn’t finished painting the trim on the house), you’ll notice that the entire area to the right of the door is taken up by only four plants! That’s bang for your buck and they’ll bloom from April until frost, which is usually expected here in mid-October.  The Tidal Waves in the photo are in a cherry pink and a color they call Silver, which has a purple throat.  Each year, I head to the greenhouse in anticipation that the Wave company may have come out with more colors!  Attention Wave People:  More Colors in Tidal Wave, please!

Back to the topic of roses – Some varieties keep on going. Here we are now at the beginning of autumn and we’re still enjoying the dependability of the Knock-out roses in this bright red and these Joseph’s Coat roses. They’ve bloomed all summer.

Knock-out and Joseph's Coat Roses www.midweststoryteller.com

The Joseph’s Coat rose is aptly named for its many colors. It opens as you see here in the photo, with golden hues. Once open, it’s a fiery orange before maturing into a deep pink. At various times, passersby, whether on foot or driving past, have stopped to ask me what they’re called. They probably receive more comments than anything else in my yard.  I don’t remember where I got mine, but they are available from Walmart and their site has a great photo of what they look like when the bush is in full bloom.

Years ago, Smuffy got the bright idea of digging a fish pond.  Somehow –  I suppose, with those puppy-dog brown eyes of his – he got me on board with the project.  He became the hole-digging and water-works man and I became the rock placement artiste.  As bad as I wanted out of toting all those rocks, I knew I had to do it because if Smuffy were left to arrange them, the pond would be square.  All but three or four of the real “whoppers” were arranged by me prior to an extensive rest period.  Now, we enjoy getting to sit and enjoy the sound of running water and the beauty of it all.

Pond Sittin' www.midweststoryteller.com

Along the stone walls at the back of our property, these sedum have been spending the summer in their own quiet, pale-green way as they waited for their turn to show off. Now a pale blush, they’ll soon turn bright pink before darkening to a deep burgundy and then brown. They work well when dried and used in fall arrangements. Near them, I’ve planted one of my new favorites – this delicate tall salvia in a pinkish red.

Sedum and Salvia www.midweststoryteller.com

Once again, I must remind you, I can’t watch Smuffy every minute. Examples of his need for it can be found here.  Being in love with all things green, he sometimes plants things without asking me or bothering to save the tags. I don’t know what these two bushes are called, but they wait by my back fence every year to unleash their beauty in the fall. Now they are blooming just in time to give us the fall colors we love. It strikes me as odd, somehow, that we can be such fans of neat and tidy displays and then when autumn arrives, we all fall in love with the messy look. Suddenly, it’s as though nothing in the world is more beautiful than dead sticks, shaggy bundles of weeds and unkempt, tangled bushes like these.

Orange Berry Bushes www.midweststoryteller.com

Now it is time for true confessions. Have you ever gone completely overboard with something? Years ago, I fell in love with Sweet Annie! Don’t get the wrong idea. I don’t remember where I was when I became smitten. All I remember is being in a store and asking, “What is that glorious smell? It smells like fall in here!” My nose led me to a bundle of fluff and someone told me that this fragrant herb was called Sweet Annie. “Easy to grow,” they said. “You can make wreaths,” they said. “Add it to arrangements,” they said. I had to have it. I got my hands on some seeds and planted them in a sunny spot. I’d been promised that I’d have plenty of smelly-good wreath-making cuttings from a single plant. Oh, my!

That episode has probably been twenty years ago and I am still harvesting Sweet Annie every year! It re-seeds itself and that is stating it mildly. Each plant grows to about eight feet in height and the branches off the main stem can be cut to use in arrangements or wound together to make swags or wreaths. You’ll develop a love-hate relationship with Sweet Annie. I’ll probably never know the number of people I’ve blessed or alienated by giving them a gift of a wreath or swag. Every nose is different and while I love the stuff, Smuffy can detect the slightest bit with his super-sniffer and is quick to deposit it out onto the porch. So, I decorate the porch with it.  It overwhelms his senses indoors.  Other people fill their house with bundles and wreaths and think it’s the greatest thing on earth.  I say all this so that in case you decide to sow those seeds – you have been informed!

I cut it each September and hang it under my porch on coat-hangers to dry. This year, I had a bumper crop!

Sweet Annie www.midweststoryteller.com

Soon, I’ll show you what I do with this fragrant herb, so be sure to subscribe so you don’t miss out.

I enjoy my yard, but should I leave it, I don’t have to go far to enjoy the beauty of my locale. Perhaps it’s just me, but it seems this has been an awesome year for beautiful clouds in our part of the Midwest.

Clouds of Fire www.midweststoryteller.com

I only have to go a few blocks away to find myself on the banks of the Missouri River. It can become something you take for granted when life gets busy. Sometimes, however, it refuses to be ignored!

Missouri River Sunset www.midweststoryteller.com

Being outdoors helps you thrive! It’s relaxing and therapeutic to be out pulling weeds or barbecuing with family and friends. I believe it’s important, however, to make time to just stroll or sit and stare – to soak it all in.

If you live in the Midwest, you might want to get as many of those moments in as you can, because it’s coming, folks! Here’s a photo taken in my backyard. Before we know it –

World of White www.midweststoryteller.com

— winter will be upon us and our fascination with it’s early beauty can give way to a drab existence as we find ourselves waiting, curled up with the seed catalog, for those hyacinths to peek through the soil and refresh our spirits again.

My inspiration for this post came from a recent post over at jilliandanielle.com where we are treated to a tour of her summer garden. It’s amazing what a few simple steps can do to make your own corner of the world into a place of rest and peace.

Even though my own corner has been neglected lately as I’ve spent most of my summer finishing up a novel series, I still thrive on the moments I’ve taken to get out and enjoy the place we call home. When we surround ourselves with beauty and then take time to be thankful for it, we can thrive without ever leaving home. 

Questions? Comments? Just scroll back up to the beginning of this post and click on “Leave a comment”. I’d love to know what you’ve enjoyed most in your yard this year!  Maybe you can help me identify the “mystery bush”!