Category Archives: Things to Do

God’s Heart for People: Insights from a Montreal Visit

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Greetings from Montreal, Quebec, Canada! The hubby and I have escaped for a few days and are staying at a really cute little place in the heart of Montreal… country folks back in the city. Admittedly, I don’t miss it. It’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t wanna live here. Too many cars, too much traffic of said cars (okay Montreal-ers are crazy drivers, I know) and the people are everywhere. And the only chickens we saw were the ones deep fried in a bucket to go. Nonetheless, it was worth the sore feet to tour through old Montreal and enjoy the hustle and bustle for a change. Street vendors, your pick of food, (including two giant farmers markets with European meats and cheeses!) and the sights and smells of city life. Montreal has some great churches, building rich in history and beautiful to look at. It was good to see a collection of diverse faces and the sounds of many languages and cultures for a change.

Like the story of the country mouse and the city mouse, each place has its pros and cons, but as the mice discover, home is always best. Yet, the visit had me thinking about cities. Big, diverse, bustling cities. Of course, I grew up in the “city” and should be used to the chaos. I learned how to drive with traffic in winter. I do miss the conveniences of city life: a shop on every corner for quick pick up of milk and coffee. Don’t like this selection of shoes? You can find another store just around the bend. No car? The transit system in most cities will get you to where you want to go. And the culture of a city. Yup, people. People from every walk of life and every level of education.

Perhaps a little taste of heaven? Every colour skin and language, all praising God in the way they know best. I’m sure it will be cool when we get there! Not that I’m ready to go just yet, but it will be cool when we do get there… I hope God lets us all cook our favourite foods in Heaven. Can you imagine Pho noodles or an authentic Italian pasta in Heaven ?! Fabulous!

Anyway, I digress. I was thinking about “cities” in Bible times. Unlike now, people rarely traveled out of their own space, and if they did, it wasn’t far. Yet, big cities would have similar characteristics: people of diversity with busy businesses and a way of life reflecting that city culture. Paul talks about it. He traveled enough to see the sights. Ships similar to the current means of transport that we saw on the great St. Lawrence in the old port in Montreal. Okay, maybe not shipping containers littered with graffiti, but I’m sure there were trunks and wooden containers piled high with the same stench of rotting fish as we experienced.

Still, above all the sights and sounds comes the target of God’s heart: the people. At one point on our one-too-many tours, I sat resting my ever aching feet and marveled at all the people. Tourists, like us, wondering around the streets. I wondered about how many knew that God loved them. How many people sitting in the great cathedrals of Montreal knew that God didn’t need their lit candles and silent prayers in gold lined alters. He wanted their hearts and a relationship with them. I wondered if the families sharing breakfast with us knew that God watched over their travels as He did ours. Or the young girls who served us were aware that God sees their devotion and cares about their work. Or the homeless folks sleeping on park benches knew that He cares about them, too.

My mind is reminded about people when I go to the cities. I think about it, but rarely does my heart follow the thoughts long enough to actually do something about it. Admittedly, my faith is weak in this. I don’t have a heart for people as some do. I don’t cry out for justice for the homeless or care for the poor in the ways I should. Jesus stood at the footholds of Jerusalem and wept for its people. He cried over the hearts of the people who were so lost in their sin, and the “ways of the world” that are so rampant in our cities still. May He soften my heart for them, too. May a vacation to “the big city” change my heart for not only all the people in the crowds there, but for the few in my circle here at home too.

The Surprising Science Behind Dandelion Survival

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Another week… and finally some nicer weather! It’s still a little chilly, but at least the sun was out today. Alas, the dandelions have turned into their little puff ball stage. Gone are the yellow rivers along the curbs, and a snowy, grey blanket has replaced them. If you’ve been following along, we’ve been chatting about the humble weed, and this week is no exception. And we’ll begin with a cool “fun fact”.

Cool.

Did you know that dandelions are “hydrophobic”? Which, for you non-science type folks, means “afraid of water”. Afraid of water? It’s a plant. Sounds a little sus. That means a little off in case you don’t speak teenager. Anyway… it is true. Each dandelion seed is attached to a tiny parachute like structure (called a pappus). The pappus has little hairs, and when the tiny hairs of the pappus are submerged in water, they close up, trapping a water droplet inside, essentially rendering the parachutes dry. Those little puff balls, when dipped in water, do not soak it up; they will come out pretty much dry again. If you want some proof, here’s a little video link to check it out! Dipping Dandelions. Pretty cool, eh?

And since that little puffball can resist a pretty significant downpour or dunking, it might get picked up and blown away. That “wishing flower” can send off upwards of 200 seeds, which have a germination rate of about 90%. Which is likely why we see so many of those yellow flowers blooming again! A pretty successful “weed”. And resilient too. We talked about that, already though (go check it out if you haven’t read the last few weeks of our “study”.)

So let’s muse about it, shall we? Resisting a downpour. Unable to be “wet blankets”. Not harmed by a little outside interference. Sounds pretty protected if you ask me. I’ve been learning about our Godly protection lately. Harnessing His Power to resist the downpours that come our way. Did you know you can be “resistant” too? You have the cool ability to say, nope, not today, Satan. Go ahead, dunk me under if you want… but I am coming out dry on the other side, and then I am gonna spread my wishing flower of 200 plus witness stories, Lord willing! And 90% of those stories will have an impact: and then there will be more of us to resist! Satan and his evil schemes don’t stand a chance. Dandelions seem to keep popping up year after year, no matter how much weed killer you might spray. We just get encouraged and float over from someone else’s wishes.

Spread a little sunshine, my friends!

So stand tall, my little puff balls! Resist the downpour. Fight back and make wishes. Spread a little sunshine and happiness to the next lawn over. Or float on the breeze and go as far as the wind will take you. Then take root, and pop up with glory to smile at another spring! Blessings, dear ones!

Back to Blogging: Embracing Imperfection and New Beginnings

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Oh my dear readers! How crazy was my holiday?! Did you even notice that I took a two week hiatus and didn’t write anything? Did you even notice that I missed the last week of Advent, didn’t chat about the Love Candle or greet you for Christmas or New Year’s Eve? Not even a social media “hello”. I am a bad, bad blogger. The algorithms have all gone awry. I thought about a “word of the year” but never truly came up with one yet. I have no excuses.

And so we come back to another year flipped on the calendar. Time passes whether I write or not. Honestly, who really cares about our little life here anyway? Okay, Okay, I am hoping someone does. Or at least this little exercise is in my own best interest to “journal” and think and muse and use as my own creative outlet for some sort of ordering space in my own chaotic brain. If you’re reading this, then, congratulations! You get to come along for the ride as I purge my thoughts for my own mental health. Again, I have no excuses.

The weeks went by in a blur. Grand baby was born. Work. Holidays in the middle of an already hectic week. Travelling. Farm chores. Baby kisses and shoveling chicken poop. How exciting a life I lead. What’s the point? Why write anything here in my little corner of the internet? I’m thinking back to my very first blog posts about niches and why I started mittonmusings in the first place. To learn. To try. It didn’t matter that I didn’t fit in to the typical blogger mode. I am terrible at getting a good photo. I’m not the one snapping selfies in the bathrooms or videoing in the thrift stores. I don’t make good “art” documentaries or farm instructional videos. I’ve never written a book. I don’t even have Tiktok. I can use a filter, but I still need help editing a reel. I am very, very far from perfect.

Sigh. Maybe that’s the point. In this fast paced world of A.I. technology and rapidly changing fads, my {cough} fifty {cough} something person is on the way back down the hill. I am beginning to see the dark side of the mountain and watching the next generation climb to great heights on the other side. My babies are having babies. We are starting to look at retirement funds. I know, age is just a number, and if you’ve been here any length of time, you will know that I am a firm believer in the “never stop learning” motto. An old dog CAN learn new tricks. God never told us we get to retire from life. Jesus had a plan and left a legacy. He made a path for those coming behind to follow. Perhaps it is the same for us in 2025.

I’m a bit sad that I didn’t have the time to sit down over the holidays and reflect properly. I’m a bit disappointed that we didn’t (okay at least I didn’t) have a whole lot of time to “chill” and look introspectively on the past year and the one to come. I should have. The youngest asked if I had a resolution. I don’t. I have a few goals set in mind, but have I come up with a true, real focus for the year, as I have had in the past? No, not yet. My mind is already racing forward to the 17 things that need to get done in the next few days. My new work schedule requires some getting used to, and we are once again, balancing home and the rest of life. Oh no, my friend, time stands still for no one. Every day is a marching on to the next day.

Perhaps that’s what time is teaching me. Perhaps that’s what God wants me to learn. Patience. A life journey is a march onward. Up (and down) the hill. Things gotta get done. Bills get paid, the dishes get done, the babies grow up, and the dog still gets fed. This is where I am. And it is okay.

Come join me on this adventure! (Photo: Pexels)

Welcome to the blog, dear reader. Welcome to the chaos, the times I go AWOL for no apparent reason other than “I didn’t get to it”. Welcome to the journey. I guarantee that we will learn together. We’ll think and muse and become the master of nothing. It’ll be fun. We’ll question verses and try to apply them to life. There will be bad photos, my crazy chicken stories and lots of grand baby gushing. The hubby will likely be the focus of some #itsnottafarm project and will be there for a few laughs, I am sure. HAPPY 2025!

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