So...day vent ice fishin', ya know

If you read carefully, following the given directions,

you will find yourself delightfully speaking

the vernacular of northern Minnesota. 

Warning:  It's addicting.

FUR SHUR.

DIRECTIONS: 

1. If the letters are capitalized, speak a little louder, with a slight accent.

2. If the letters are hyphenated, draw it out.

3.  When vowels are long, they are pronounced  with a  long, full, round vowel tones.  Think BIG.  Think open mouth, insert vowel.

4. Short vowel sounds are usually followed by the schwa sound and a slight inflection.

ex.  mad  is pronounced ma-ud

5.  Long vowels are usually followed by the schwa sound.

ex. face is fA-us

6.  If all the letters are lower case and non-hyphenated, speak them in a sing-songy way.

7.  When a so is at the end of a sentence, or in the middle, or is the sentence,  it rises in pitch until it sounds like you are asking a question.  Of course, it is a question nobody will answer.

8.  The terms "ya, you betCHu", "oh, fur Pete's sAke," and "Okie dOkie," have a broad interpretation, anything from "I agree," "I think you're lying, but Scandinavians don't call other Scandinavians liars," or "yea, whatever you say."

OWt on du lAke, dey drilleDT FIFte-en tousant holeS, dere on Cross Lake for du Ice fishin' contest.

 Dey musta ha-ud holeS in dere headS.

It vas colt dat day. So....

Day say Tom CruiSe haS a cabin on dis here lA-uk,

but nobuddy seed him yet.

Fur shur, yu gotta uSe (s not z) bait, ya know, yu get dat down at du gasstashun, ya know.

dOnchu tink Jon (Yon) looks like he'S havin u goot time?

Ya, you betCHu, GramPU PIE-U he'S havin u goot time.

(I hope that is something Finnish having to do with Grandfather...

...that's what I've always been told)

Sumbuddy's gittin' a littull chillE dere, fur shur.

Yu know, dem dere city slickers ain't cut OWt fur du MinneSNOWta winterS,

ennymore, ya know.

Oh, fur Pete's sAke. 

Sumbuddy got  a little bort and made a pond fur du bA-ut.

Fur cU-uht, dat dere be my littull boy, Jon.

I dont tink dis lookS lI-uk fun,

but dem menfolk, day vood do ennyting to get outSide in the vinter.

Donchu voory ladees, dey onlee vay du feesh.

Tree generAshuns of great white feeshermen.

Fur cryin OWt loudt, day got skunked dis here day.

So didt all du udder feeshermen.

Dey onlee gafe uvay seventE fIfe priSeS dat day.

It vas so colt, Even du lawyers had dere hands in dere own pockets, ya know.

Fur shur.

*************

My Mother-In-Law gave me some great advice when I married her son,

a born and bred Minnesotan.

1. Don't gut a deer.

2. Don't clean a fish.

3. Don't use the grill.

Because once you do,

you will always have to do it.

Wise, wise woman.

She  knowS how tu be u MinneSOtun voomun.

Everything HAD A Place....

for about six hours.

I worked diligently, almost obsessively,  all weekend to bring order to my kitchen and dining room.  I stayed up late, since hubby was out of town,  to finish and start the week with a fresh new look. I wanted everything to have a place and everything be in its place for my new week.

My whole week was certainly going to be improved with the fresh, new look.

My attitude would certainly be much improved as I was surrounded by beauty and order.

My kids' attitudes would surely be improved as they worked in serene, picturesque, magazine-worthy setting.  Doesn't outward tranquility produce inward tranquility?

My husband would return to the transformed house and praise me endlessly.

I guess not.

My first phone call was a recorded message at 6am informing me my husband's flight home had been cancelled.  My 7am call was my hubby.  My 8am phone call was Servicemaster, they were coming to fix the water damage. Remember, I was up almost till 2am.

You might remember our wondrous welcome home after a week vacation in California. Our kitty was accidentally left inside for a week and our dishwasher leaked.  All the way to the bedroom below. Yea, double OOPS.

I got a fresh new look in my kitchen,  alright.

They set up their equipment and my vision of my orderly home was clouded by the obnoxious noise of fans and motors.

Everything has a NEW place.

My husband was on an  ice-fishing trip with son, Boy Wonder. They planned to  fly  home early on Monday to  arrive before rush hour traffic and spend a nice quiet evening with family. He wanted to return to work on Tuesday rested.

He didn't count on a major storm blowing through the midwest and cancelling their flight and their rescheduled flight.  The guys caught the last flight home, arriving after midnight to a very disorderly house.

We all have plans.  We all have good plans.  Our Monday was nothing like we planned. We had good plans.

Sometimes we get Bible verses confused with wishing stars.  We put human understanding and reasoning where faith, trust and the Lord's will should prevail. 

Proverbs 16:3, "Commit to the LORD whatever you do, and your plans will succeed." 

We can be fooled into thinking that if we make plans, good plans with good motives, pray about it, it will happen just that way.  Sometimes it does.  Most of the time it doesn't.  Did we do anything wrong? 

No.  Let's go a few verses ahead.

Verse 9, "In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps."

It doesn't mean we get our way.  It means, plans succeed because the Lord's will is done.

He just might have a better plan.

A plan that includes temporary inconveniences and changed human plans.

A plan that includes teaching a saint
to be thankful in all things,
to pray in all things,
to rejoice in all things,
to worship in all things.

A plan that includes
conforming a saint to the image of Christ,
burning away dross,
building endurance,
perfecting faith
and causing them to draw nearer
to His Precious bleeding side.

We sing the songs,
we pray the prayers,
we sometimes just fail to see
how His plans are succeeding in our life.

Don't we say, "Not MY will, but THY will, Oh Lord."  Do we mean it?

On Monday, our plans succeeded, because our day went according to His plans for our lives.  I don't have to know WHY my dishwasher leaked or why the flights were cancelled.

In some ways, the day went smoother than most Mondays. We got school done early.  The laundry was done.  Some shopping was done.  The lack of physical order in our home didn't affect us, just inconvenienced us.  We worked around it, thankful the damage was being repaired.  We were thankful the guys were safe, even though they would be in an airport for several extra hours.

On Monday, I planned my course, but the Lord determined my steps.

My whole week is certainly going to be improved with the fresh, new look path.

My attitude would certainly be much improved as I was surrounded by beauty and  the God of order.
My kids' attitudes would surely be improved as they worked in serene, picturesque magazine-worthy God-honoring setting. Doesn't outward tranquility produce inward tranquility?

My husband would return to the transformed house  woman and praise me the Lord endlessly.


Because, I understand, as much as I LOVE organization,
it isn't really the physical order in my home that gives me peace,
it's abiding faithful
on the path
the God of all peace
has ordered for my life.

Has the Lord ever changed your plans for His?

Everything Has A Place....

....And Everything In Its Place.

I am determined that Everything Will Have a Place. I love order, I crave order, I need order to function.

I am also determined to clean as I go.  I didn't do spring or fall cleaning and am paying for it. I just need the house to be clean and orderly to enable our family to function at our fast pace a little more efficiently.

We have lived in our "new" house five years and I feel like I really haven't moved in.  I still haven't found everything, and I don't feel like there is logical order in the house.  I dream that I will create such order, that my hubby and kids will "find" things on their own and put them away where they found them.  Remember that lofty high school graduation theme, "If You Can Dream It,  You Can Achieve It?"  I'm still dreaming, but the achieving part is a little elusive.

Starting in the kitchen on Saturday, I thought it would take just a morning.  Two days later, I am still working.

I am rearranging cupboards for efficiency.  I am throwing out things.  I am donating things to the thrift store.  I am putting things away in other parts of the house. I am cleaning cupboards inside and out.

Moving in when you have already moved in is challenging, but I am determined to win.

I don't want just a place for the useful things, but also for the decorative things.  Some things haven't been unpacked for several moves.  They need to be used, put back into storage carefully labeled, or properly disposed of.

I finally cleaned the top of my fridge.  Early in my marriage, it didn't even occur to me that the top of the fridge had to be cleaned.  After all, I never saw it.  I am only 5 feet 2 inches tall.

Then, we had company.  A six foot tall man named Al.  He saw the top of my fridge and got the giggles.  He looked way down on me and realized why the top of my fridge was furry. Then, he felt bad because he laughed at me.  For the past 20 years, when I have cleaned the top of my fridge, I have thought of Al.  I was SO thankful he said something!

Sunday was Think of Al Day. I cleaned the top of my fridge. Al is married to the wise woman, Connie, who has been a godly Titus 2 woman in my life. 

I removed some vintage coffee tins and added the two vintage picnic baskets.  One holds baby/toddler paraphenalia  (cups, dishes, bibs, silverware) that  grandchildren and young visitors will need.  It isn't a daily need, so they had to be away but accessible.  The other basket  is waiting for inspiration.

The "baby drawer" in the kitchen became the holding place for the toaster, the electric knife and the blender, which were all cleverly hidden in separate places throughout the house.

                                        

I dug out some of my favorite graniteware and cast iron  items for a display on my buffet.

                             

My cherished vintage tins were pulled from the garage and given a place in the dining room.

 

My antique lanterns were placed on top of the hutch with my quirky birds from my dear Indian friend, Krupa.

Monday begins another school day, but a continuation of my passion to clean and organize.  I will tackle Rebekah's school area while she is doing school.  I will sort through magazines while she is quietly waiting. I will continue this week and next until I am happy that we are running efficiently.

I crave order because it is my nature.

I also crave order because it is my Father's nature.

1 Corinthians 14:40, "Let all things be done decently and in order."

As I try to make my home subject to me, it is a reminder of the same battle we have with our flesh, trying to make it subject to our spirit.

We need to be orderly in our marriage.  We need to be orderly in the church.  We need to be orderly in our homes.  That means, we follow the Lord's order that He has established in the Bible.

Just as we bring order to our homes by creating a space for everything, we bring order to our spiritual lives by creating a space for everything.

We need a space in our day to read our Bibles.  We need a space in our day to pray.  We need a space in our day to encourage our family members.  Make your own list for your own life.  What do you need to create space for?

We see our physical needs easily and can clean, craft and organize our way into peaceful, functioning order.  As we're working on physical order in our lives, let's ask the Lord to give us eyes to see what needs order in our spiritual lives as well.

This blog will be linked  to Nan's blog, momstheword , for her Making Your Home Sing Monday! Join me there to find out what other bloggers are doing to sing their Monday blues away!

MM Meditation - The Robe of the Crucifixion

As our Lord walked this earth, He came in touch with three items that He would encounter again on His day of crucifixion - the scourge, the thorns and the robe.


As He encounters each item, He attacks the lies and the false relgion that it represents.

Each of these items revisited Him in a painful way, yet He died, was buried and rose victorious over the symbols and the sin, and presented a simple way for mankind to shed off all the man-made trappings of religion and approach the God of Heavens for salvation, simply by faith.

ROBES (Religion for Show)

When the Lord Jesus watched the religious leaders strutting around the temple in their robes, He openly rebuked their love for show. Their pride choked out their faith, and they esteemed the outward symbols and rituals of the religion more than their God.

He noticed they loved to be seen  in their flowing robes,  the bells on the bottom to announcing their self-importance, and loved the acknowledgment that the robes marked their prestigious position. Their clothing set them apart, and they loved this.

Instead of their robes setting them apart as those who loved the Lord and were called to serve the people,  they set themselves apart as better than the others and abused their power to take advantage of the weak.   They garments that were to symbolize consecration, symbolized pride.

The Lord Jesus rebuked them in the Temple.


Mark 12:38-40
"Then He said to them in His teaching, “Beware of the scribes, who desire to go around in long robes, love greetings in the marketplaces,  the best seats in the synagogues, and the best places at feasts,  who devour widows’ houses, and for a pretense make long prayers. These will receive greater condemnation.”

Then, there was another robe.

 Not a robe flowing around a self-righteous hypocrite, but a robe stained with blood flowing for unrighteous sinners.

Luke 23:11, "Then Herod, with his men of war, treated Him with contempt and mocked Him, arrayed Him in a gorgeous robe, and sent Him back to Pilate."


Did His flowing robe, glued to His back with His own blood, remind the religous hypocrites of His rebuke for their garments of pride? They could not see He was the fulfillment of all their prophecies, their hopes, their dreams their longings.  They distained His humble ways.

He warned of  damnation for loving the showy symbols of their religion.

I wonder, when the sun was dying in the west, and the Son was dying on the cross, could the jangle of bells be heard  in the stillness of the evening, as those religious robed men walked away from the scene of their making?

Today, are we wearing religious trappings and performing religious ceremonies, without having the heart of faith and obedience demanded by the Lord? 

We may not be wearing robes, but we might be carrying titles, offices, or positions of spiritual leadership that we wear as a robe of pride, instead of a symbol of consecration.

We may be performing the duties and obligations of Christianity without having the true heart of faith.  We have nothing to offer Him but sinful, broken lives. Even after salvation, we have nothing to offer Him but redeemed, washed in the Blood lives.  We must be humble in our service and duties.

We might be trusting in something other than faith in the blood of Jesus for our salvation. If so, then we are throwing the robe of religion for show over the body crucified for our sins.

May we heed the rebuke of the Lord Jesus Christ and  be clothed only in the righteousness of Christ through faith, and the robes of religion for show.  May the trappings of religion fall from us, as we seek after only true faith and the practices in His Holy Word.

If we stray from the Savior and His Word, our  pride and self-rightousness will become a  robe of show that jangles hypocrisy in the ears of those around us.

If we abide in Him, we shall be clothed  in a robe - in a white robe of righteousness, purchased with His blood.


Read  Part I - The Scourge of the Crucifixion
Read Part II - The Thorns of the Crucifixion

Who DOES Your Toes?

Awhile back, a new acquaintance paid me a sincere compliment.

"Ooh, I love your toes! Who did your toes?"

I had to admit, the cranberry crème was looking pretty nice sticking out in my patent leather, silver-buckled sandals, but her gracious comment proved she hadn't known me longer than 15 minutes.

I wanted to laugh and say, "Are you kidding? I would NEVER pay to have someone touch me - I am TOO Norwegian!"

Instead I thanked her and admitted I polished them myself. Coming from her, it truly was a compliment. Everything was streaked, polished, buffed, accessorized and manicured artistically. She oozed confident glamor, that stuff that really needs to ooze into about 90% of us homeschooling mommies.

Because I had been sun tanning and playing Barbies with Beka on the deck all afternoon, I barely had enough time to shower and throw on dress clothes and makeup.  In fact, I was a little late because my mascara kept glopping on, sticking my lashes together and making smears all over my eyelids. Of course, I can't see without my glasses, but can't put on mascara with my glasses, so it was a futile situation.

My new friend, dubbed Glamor Woman in my mind, wished aloud for the ability to paint her own toenails. We hadn't been friends long enough to admit I wasn't driven by ability, but by my  money-spending and someone-touching-my-toes phobias. I secretly wondered if she needed to update her glasses prescription or if I truly was that talented. After several more sweet and sincere compliments, I was delusionally considering becoming a toe model or painting the neighbors' toenails for money.

Another woman came up and complimented  my sandals. Embarrassed, I lifted  up my foot, showing my toe admirers the silver-markered $2.99 on the bottom. "I got them from the Goodwill, but someone told me Franco Sarto was a good shoe."

Someday, I should just learn to take a compliment.

Another day while I was actually "doing" my own toes, soaking them in the sink while I did my makeup,  my Mom snagged a picture of me. One of my secret beauty treatments is no longer secret.

Last April, when I had my second surgery to remove thyroid cancer I had to remove my toenail polish prior to surgery. It just didn't feel right, staring at bare toenails all day against those plain white hospital sheets, while those nasty blowup things on my legs pumped away blood clots. I could hardly wait until I could get them painted again.

Prior to surgery, a friend offered to do "anything I needed done - but NOT cooking."

Maybe we are really twins separated at birth, I could  relate to this comment. I asked her to paint my toenails and fingernails. It was part of my CRP - Cancer Recovery Program. I just decided I could handle a little pampering from a friend who desired to help me through a hard time of my life.

We chatted, she painted, and patiently reminded me to sit still so I didn't smear her work. It wasn't about vanity, as much as it was about a friend pampering a friend through a hard time in her life. I was amazed I was actually letting someone touch my feet.  I was amazed that she WANTED to.

I remembered that previous conversation when I had been shocked when asked who had done my toes. Now, my answer was different. Clarese. Clarese did my toes. She painted away one of the stings of cancer and pampered my soul in healing strokes of friendship.

A few months later, prior to leaving  for a two week trip across five states, my oldest daughter, Jana, and I had a girls' night with snacks, a movie and pedicures. I soaked and sanded, picked and trimmed, then began applying the color that screams summer, Fuchsia Bling Bling.

It was amazing. In fact, it was so amazing and so everywhere, my daughter actually asked hesitantly, "Mom, do you want me to paint your toes for you?"

I always hate to be a bother to anyone, so I continued on, squinting and trying to see my toes through my new higher strength reading glasses. I knew I could scrape the extra paint off my skin later. I finally finished the two coats and carefully added white floral decals with diamonds centers to my big toes. Stunning.

When we arrived at Bible camp the first thing my second daughter said to me, as she gasped at my blinged toenails, "Mom, did you get your toes done?"

Later, my third daughter saw my  feet propped up on the dashboard and asked in shock,  "Mom, did you get a pedicure?"

Maybe I should go into business with Clarese.

Cuz',  apparently, we both know how to do toes.

Through the Car Window Glass - WASHINGTON

I experienced culture shock when the Lord moved our family of eight to the Pacific Northwest from the midwest nearly six years ago.  I kept reminding myself that since I moved within the same country and I spoke the same language, it really shouldn't be that hard.  I imagined the pioneer women in their covered wagons and told myself over and over, if they could do it, so could I.

Through many tears and trials I learned valuable lessons such as:

-don't plan on making a left turn on a busy street without a traffic light

-plan on 20 minutes extra for every missed turn

-expect the Seattle Salute, the one fingered wave, when you do something wrong

-the turn-off to airport isn't that well-marked, and if you miss the turn you might not actually find the airport for another 40 minutes

-the way out of the airport isn't that well marked, and if you miss the turn you might not actually make it home for another 40 minutes

-the airport construction will NEVER end

-the ecoterrorists hate Suburban driving mommas.  If you move to the PNW with a Suburban you need to buy a different vehicle to keep your car from being "oops - dented" or "oops - scratched"

-a GPS could actually be cheaper than marriage counseling

Driving was a huge stress.  I knew until I mastered the skills of merging four lanes in 1/2 mile to get to downtown Seattle, I wouldn't be able to enjoy all the sites, sounds, smells and experiences of our new home.

It didn't change until I prayed about it.  I was ashamed and amused that I had forgotten to employ a simple privilege believers have, to boldly approach the throne of grace, to ask the Lord to give me the ability to drive in the traffic here. Amused only because it was a "DUH" kinda revelation.

When I made nearly a dozen on-time trips to the airport in about two weeks without anxiety, I knew the Lord had answered my prayer.

Then I could actually swerve my neck around, not to avoid another near collision, but to enjoy the soul-refreshing beauty of my surroundings.

From  the I-90 floating bridge,

 I am always excited to see the floating houses on Lake Union.

Scott and I dream about living in one someday

 when the kids have moved out, especially the sleepwalking one.

Sleepless in Seattle was filmed here, can you spot the house on the end of the row?

(Actually, you can't, it faces the other way.)

Somehow, gray became a color of beauty to me.

But, gray roads, gray clouds, gray buildings, and gray mist

can produce a gray mood,

if you aren't careful and prayerful.

This is how it can look summer, fall, winter and spring.

Lake Union

When we enter Seattle on 1-90,  we also love spotting the old yellow house just above the bridge.

If you turn around on the Interstate and drive east  3032 miles you will arrive in Boston.

We marvel that the interstate was tunneled under the established residential area.

The Mount Baker Tunnel was named after Mount Baker neighborhood.

not THE Mount Baker, east of Bellingham,

 the second most active volcano Cascade range.

We love utilizing the ferry system.

I call them a poor man's yacht.

Sunset view of the Mukilteo Light Station.

You can get used to this area.

Just keep your eyes on

bicyclists,

accidents,

merging traffic,

rear view mirror,

side view mirrors,

shrapnel on the road

people waving with one finger,

city buses with the right of way,

brake lights five cars ahead of you,

people pulling out without looking behind them,

pedestrians who walk into traffice before looking,

a sighting of Mount Ranier in full glory,

the Cascade Mountains in the east

the Olympic Mountains in the west

beautiful people of every ethnicity

rhododendrons in riotous color

 skyscraperish cedar trees

emerald green grass

 heather in bloom

Mount Baker

Mount Ranier

gray

ivy

I'm no longer in culture shock.

I'm in creation shock.

All because I have a God

in Heaven

Who

answers

prayer.

Praise Him!

(to see Montana through the window)

(Montana in the rear view mirror)

I Published My First Book!

Our family was  finally going to enjoy our first family visit to a real, white sandy beach while we were in California for Christmas.  We were going to frolick by the sea, collect shells and hopefully catch a few rays.

Two cars drove to Laguna Beach, found a parking lot close to the beach and began that dubious process of reading all the signs and regulations, purchasing the parking ticket and placing it EXACTLY where they wanted it on the windshield.

Parking can be a complicated issue in a big city.

We didn't want to make a mistake.  We didn't want a ticket.

Confident we had been law-abiding, patriotic citizens, we spent several hours enjoying the sand and surf.  It was one of those memory-making days.

We carefully watched the time.  Afterall, we didn't want a ticket.

Packing up earlier than necessary, we tromped all 12 people back to the parking lot, where we had parked so conscientiously.

We seriously didn't want a ticket.

                                                       

We got a ticket.

Our offense?   Parking on a white line. 

I know parking crooked is annoying and can cause door dings, but I wasn't aware it was against the law.

Apparently, in California it is.

Since California is still a  part of America, we did our American duty, taking full advantage of due process, and protested our parking ticket on the basis of enforcing  an unadvertised law.

Being a writer, I felt the urgency to wax eloquent in hopes of beating  the ticket  we tried so hard to avoid. Instead of a letter, I fully documented our situation with pictures and verbal evidence of our innocence, creating an  attractive book that would move their hearts to erase our financial obligation.

I published my first book.

Will I get my first rejection slip?