Oak Trees

There was an oak tree here in the back yard when Mother started building this house.  Daddy said it was about 6 inches in diameter when he was doing some clearing and fence work for his Grandfather back in the 40s.  Grandpa Hamm told him to leave it for shade.  It was in the middle of a fence line then. 

It grew to a monstrous size over the years, but developed a hollow all through the main trunk.  Hurricane Rita shredded every leaf and she was never the same after.  Finally, she was bare and dying.  Rock had a fellow with a big enough chainsaw come cut her down.  Laying on her side she was seven or eight feet in diameter where the branches started. 

There were many fish fries and barbecues under that old tree.  There was a swing that soothed me through many an anxious childhood trial.  The photo with this letter shows three of the four daughters left behind by her.  The cows enjoy the shade and acorns now.  There is one nearest the house he is planning to move the fence behind so we will have a shade tree in the back yard to gather around again. 

There is one memory that has come to the front for me lately.  Our central air conditioner has had a couple of problems this summer.  Made me think of how we used to live.  We had a window unit in the living room and one in Mother’s bedroom.  We have an attic fan that still works.  The window unit is mounted in the wall in the living room since Mother added on to the house in ’86. We added the central air when we moved in here in ’04.  I’m not even sure if the window unit still works. 

Nevertheless, my memory turned back to the summer of ’77.  At least, I think it was that summer. Might have been the one before or one after.  Mother wanted to redo the kitchen.  She wanted to rearrange the cabinets and hired a carpenter to come in and do it.  What to do for cooking while the kitchen was out of commission? 

In those days, eating out was a very rare occasion.  We usually only ate out when we went to see Daddy when he came in port or on one of the rare shopping trips to Beaumont.  Luby’s and later, Piccadilly cafeterias were Mother’s favorites.  The Monterey House or The Schooner were also occasional choices.  Locally, there was a Dairy Queen and a Pizza Hut.  There was a place in Spurger that made great hamburgers.  That was it. Convenience foods found in the freezer were Banquet TV dinners and frozen pizzas.  If there were microwaves then, only rich people had them.  Folks bought groceries and grew gardens and cooked from scratch in this part of the woods. 

What about not having a kitchen to do all that?  Mother set up a screen house and a canopy right under that old oak tree.  She set up a long folding table and a card table and the lawn chairs and what have you.  A cook stove and the water hose and the refrigerator moved out of the way in the dining area next to the kitchen along with the deep freezer and she never missed a beat.  We stayed out there all the time it seems.  Of course, I was a kid and that was a long time ago.  My brother could probably fill in more details and we have a couple of friends who were always there.  He is gone now, but she could provide some details, too, no doubt. 

Growing up, we lived closer to nature than we do now.  The windows were open unless it was blowing rain or too cold.  The attic fan drew in the air. Sometimes it was hot air, but moving over perspiring skin was cooling.   Even in winter, we slept without heat.  The propane heater was lit each morning. I don’t know of a time it was left on during the night.  We all had electric blankets. That helped a lot.  There are many days in winter no heat is even needed.  The days are mild and pleasant.  The windows would have been open back then.

If it was just me, I would run the central air and heat less often.  I would get rid of all the carpet in the back half of the house and situate more of the furniture away from the windows. Except the beds.  The beds are best left in front of the windows to catch the draft from the attic fan pulling the cool night air through the house.  The night sounds are soothing to the soul and the gentle light from the moon is magical. 

One fall he and I turned the central unit off and lived with the attic fan until it was too cold to have the windows open.  I have clear memories of lying there next to him in the moonlight with the draft passing over us.  There was something magical about those quiet moments with him I pray remember when the days of my life are closing. 

There are so many treasures in my memory of our loving each other these many years.  I continue to work toward creating more treasured memories with him all the time.  What would I have done without him always being my champion and hero?  His courage and stubborn will have saved us more times from more enemies than I can ever enumerate.  But He keeps track and rewards him with His mercy and grace.  His faith in our Lord is an anchor I hold on to through the rough times.  I am grateful beyond words for him.

I have drifted all over the place with my thoughts here.  But, isn’t that the way of memories?  They come trickling in and then they flood through the mind and heart washing us along in the current.  I’ll keep seeking the ones in the past to relate to the little ones and keep creating ones in the present to cherish as time passes. 

Wintertime (Spring) Cleaning

I am definitely not trying to hasten spring. The winter is needed. I simply want to be ready for the spring when it does arrive.  Here in this part of the world, the spring flowers will be blooming by early March. Summer arriving by mid-May or sooner. I want to be done with the clearing out and cleaning up and rearranging and deciding now, when the wind is chill and the skies gray and sullen. When the jasmine covers the pines, I want to be ready to get out there and smell it.

Once upon a time, houses were heated by coal or wood. Kerosene, fat candles, gaslight were used to see in the twilight days.  The soot made it needful to wash everything down in the spring at the returning of the warm sunshine. It would be too soon to clean in the midst of the winter. One would wait until the windows could be flung open and freshness could blow through the home.  These days, in our air tight dwellings, there is little fresh air any time without deliberateness of the housekeeper.

This is a new time for me. I have retired. Not since I was 20 something have I had the leisure to plan my work over days and weeks rather than around school schedules, care of parents, working days. It does not seem to appeal to women these days to want to simply keep house. It is difficult for even me who loves to keep house to find “permission” to do just that.  I have a nagging in my mind that I am wasting valuable time and energy in such a mundane pursuit. 

But is my pursuit mundane? According to the Lord, any productive work is honorable done with the right heart.  Washing dishes and mopping the floor are honorable tasks.  It is needful for a home to run well. So why shouldn’t I give myself permission to pursue what has all along been my dream? Keeping a well-run house.

I had the privilege of doing so in the early days of our marriage. And when I did seek outside employment, it was in a capacity that allowed generous time off to continue keeping house.  It was later, when a job change reduced my time allowance, when grief continued to mount with continuing losses of my family members, when the little birds flew away from the nests as warrior eagles on their own, then my home became more difficult to attend.  My heart was lonely and the tasks felt meaningless in my sadness.

How is retirement? I am at almost five months along with it.  I have been busy with granddaughters and holidays and learning the tasks of a very part time job. It isn’t “new year resolutions” driving me at this time. It is simply timing.  Holidays past, decorations to put away, weather conditions conducive to being indoors more. I decided rather haphazardly this would be a good time to do some clearing out of things.

First was to go through the decorations I didn’t use this year to see of what to dispose. Then to decide what I used this year but didn’t love and get those things gone.  Since I currently use the washroom for storage, I went through things out there, too.  I have hauled away a few bags already.  The washroom seems organized. I only have two tubs of Christmas decorations, the tree itself, and three ornament boxes.  I also have a tub of antlers and a tub of pine cones. The cones were brought to me from California by our son.  I use them and the antlers in table centerpieces. 

Next, I have gathered “projects” on the back porch (sunroom sounds too uppity). It is down to do it or dump it.  I have a bad habit of going to thrift stores and picking up things to “makeover” then getting the materials to do the makeover only to box it up and stuff it in the closet.  Excuses of I don’t have time, I’m not sure how to start, I have no place to set up to work, I don’t know what to do with the finished project.  Where would I display or use whatever it is?  Who could I give it to? I am trying to break the acquisition habit.  I believe this ultimatum I have given myself may work to strengthen my resolve to keep my focus on what I actually do want to spend time and effort doing.

What is that?  I love to embroider.  I like reading and I love writing.  I have a half dozen or more stories begun or first drafts done. I do like to keep house, cook, do yardwork.  I still have him to look after.  He needs the care I give him.  Of course he can get along without me.  But, isn’t life sweeter when I take the time to take care of him?  He isn’t difficult to tend anyway.  A good supper, clean clothes, an occasional haircut, a simple lunch packed for work, a ride up the road to see the cows.  He can be a bit cantankerous, but then so can I.  He’s worth every bit of it and more.

Starting this new year, this new month, right here in the middle of a Southeast Texas “winter”, I am clearing out and cleaning up.  Setting up for the coziness needed now. Setting up for the long season of outdoor living afforded by this part of the world through early springs, long summers and warm falls.

I have no idea what tomorrow will bring. I don’t even know how this day will play out and end.  But I am ever so grateful I know the One who does.  I have been through many dark times and no doubt will be through many more.  But His light of hope has sustained me even through my weeping and mourning.  As painful as things have been, I am grateful to find myself not bitter.  I am grateful to find myself not stuck in the mire of self-pity that I fall in to at times. 

My life is not charmed; not full of blissful days.  I have been through bad times. I have made bad decisions. I have behaved poorly.  I used to criticize myself brutally for my failures.  Somewhere I heard the phrase: how arrogant I must be to think that the blood of Christ is not good enough for my sins.  That is what is boils down to for me.  I am too bad for the blood of Christ to work on me and the Spirit to work in me and through me.  That was the lie I believed.  That was my mountain to climb.  It is a slippery slope going up, but I continue to gain altitude. It is only by seeking Jesus, I will be able to summit the peak.

How raw and open is my confession.  How vulnerable I have allowed myself to be.  If you are reading this, please know I will have wrangled with myself to allow it posted. This is not how I intended this to go.  I suppose I needed to hear it. 

I am looking toward the coming days with expectancy. Seeking an ever-sweeter walk with Christ, an ever more tender connection with Him and with him. Moments of delight with our children and our little grand girls.  Deeper connections with friends and extended family. If I can provide encouragement or a little cheer to the hurting, I pray I am allowed to do so.  

Pain will come this year. I pray I am quick to seek Him for courage, strength, guidance, comfort.

Blessings will come this year. I pray I am not blind to see them. I pray I am quick to praise Him for them.

Already feeling the blessing of today.  The comfort of simply knowing Jesus.  May you know Him, too.