Embracing Resilience: Life Lessons from Dandelions

Welcome back to a little calmer week in the Mitton Household. Perhaps calmer, but no less busy. Unfortunately, the weather didn’t cooperate with all we wanted to accomplish this past weekend, but here we are nonetheless. It has certainly been a wet, dismal few days. And here we are back on a Tuesday post! Back on track (at least for now! lol) Last week, we decided to sit with a little theme on “The Humble Dandelion”. Consequently, we’ll jump right in with my thoughts: Dandelions are seemingly very resilient!

Despite the rainy weather, we did get a little break in the clouds on Sunday… just enough for me to plant a few pots of annuals in our otherwise full front garden. The hubby cut the grass. As I sauntered down the side steps of the porch, I was struck by two things: One, a huge dandelion with about 4 blooms growing out of the gravel of the paving stones, and two, how many dandelions were back after cutting the lawn! Resistant and resilient!

I’ve heard it said that grass lawns started as a sign of wealth. Pick a non useful, time consuming -to- grow crop, like grass, and flood your front lawn with it to prove yourself worthy to the neighbours. Who came up with that plan? We should have just let the wildflowers and weeds alone and filled our yards with colour… the yellow dandelions are there anyway! And they even grow in the poorest soil (in my case gravel!) of the side pathway. In abundance! I haven’t pulled it out yet… just because. Just because it’s showing me that yup, I am here and here with a vengeance!

And since we’re using A.I. why not generate an image…this is not my path… and dandelions have leaves too! 🙂

Let’s explore it a bit more, shall we? Admittedly, A.I. generated some interesting thoughts on the “resilience of dandelions”, so, although not my own thoughts, they accompanied my musings so well, I thought I’d share. We already talked about their persistence. Those little blooms can get mowed under and still pop back up, seemingly unharmed. They can withstand the harsh environments! Dandelions are certainly adaptable. Perfectly manicured lawns are dotted with them occasionally when the owners slip up, and open fields, rocks, hills and my gravel pathway see the spring returns of the weed. They’ll grow anywhere!

I suppose blooming in adversity and taking root in difficult places coincide – demonstrating their ability to adapt to harsh environments, they easily overcome adversity. Plus, dandelions seemingly have the ability to find solutions to said adversity, and bloom and grow even in challenging situations. Persistence. Perseverance. Adaptability. Do you see where I am going here? Of course you do. Obviously, we can take a little lesson from the God-given weeds. The humble yellow flower.

Take chances. Make mistakes and get mowed under, but rise to the challenge and pop up again, unfazed. Our environments should not dictate how we bloom for Jesus. The rocky soil may be tough, but we can do it. Do you work or play in a “ungodly” place? Do you hear the words and struggle to remain holy in an unholy environment? If God can give the little dandelion a place to bloom and flourish every spring, then He certainly has plans for you to “bloom where you are planted”!

Photo by photokip.com on Pexels.com

It’s a simple concept. Perhaps even a Sunday School lesson, not one fit for an internet blog post, but if A.I. can pump it out, then I suppose it is worth thinking about at least! So, go ahead. Pluck that weed out of your pathway, but pause and think about how it survived there in the first place. God helped that little seed float on its way. Perhaps blown in the wind by some little puff from a toddler delighting in the parade of white seed parachuted away by a huff! Then it floated and settled not where it was comfortable or easy, but where it was rocky and harsh. Yet, it survived and thrived! Now go out and do the same, my friend, do the same!

Sounds of a Silent Saturday

Welcome back, my friends. Apologies for skipping out last week… just wasn’t there. It was Easter and I was certainly musing, but I didn’t get a chance to sit down at the computer to write about it. So it’s going to overflow into this week. It’s my blog, I’m allowed. It’s been an eventful week this week too … two words: baby chicks! Therefore, I am a little late in posting. But: it’s my blog, I’m allowed.

Okay. Here we go. I want to invite you in to the middle of the night at my old farmhouse. I have very few neighbours. It’s not the big city. We have one streetlight, so that permeates the absolute darkness of, let’s say, three o’clock in the morning. I’m lying in bed awake, as some women of my age do, listening. The chubby dog takes up half the space I have allocated myself and I pull the remaining covers up over my shoulders. It’s chilly, but that’s okay. The dog snorts. I hear myself and the hubby breathing. My eyes are closed and block out the streetlight. I listen again.

Photo by Kseniya Budko on Pexels.com

During the day, our old farmhouse creeks and we hear the wind outside. Our neighbouring cows are loud most of the time. The occasional car, truck or farm vehicle zoom past our front yard and kick up the dust – the dog barks at the slower traffic. Up until recently, Morris our rooster could be heard. (It’s a myth that roosters only crow in the mornings. That crazy bird yelled all the time at us!) However, I’m sad to report he’s been missing now for a few weeks. I’d like to think he was heroic and was “taken” fighting the whole time to protect his ladies. Even our buddy down the road commented he hadn’t heard him lately and kinda misses him. Enough about that sad event. Moving on.

Back to three o’clock in the morning and the snoring dog. Imagine you hear a gurgling like a giant belch emanating from some underwater jelly-bellied monster. That monster happens to be the sump pump located in the basement, directly underneath our master bedroom. It belches several times throughout the day and night. Earlier in the spring it followed a constant sound of rushing water as the spring melt emptied and got flushed back out by the sump pump. I’ve learned to appreciate the sound of the it, because it means my basement isn’t flooding. Like the sound of generators running constantly during our ice storm a few weeks ago. Thankfully, those have stopped now, and we are back to a general quiet.

Listen again. Hushed breathing. The cat jumps down from something upstairs with a soft thud. My new baby chick birds finally rustle. I listen to hear them as I’ve only had them a few days (yeah!) and I’m still at the new momma “please don’t die” stage. Somebody peeps very softly, and I say a prayer of thanks for signs of life in the middle of the night. They settle back down in their living room home with the soft red light of the heat lamp. Silence again. Gurgle belch. Hushed breathing. The furnace clicks on briefly, with a rush of pilot light flame. Otherwise it is pretty quiet here.

I’m a week behind in this muse, but I’ve been thinking about it since a comment I heard Easter weekend. You’ve heard of “good Friday”. You may have heard of “celebration Sunday” or “Easter Sunday” or even “resurrection day”, but this year, for the first time ever, I heard someone use the term “silent Saturday”. The day between Jesus’ death on “good Friday” and rising again on the third day… the day when all was absolutely silent. Apparently, I am late to the party on this concept, for google has lots to say about silent Saturday. Not so silent on the internet. Well fine. It was a new thought for me. And so, I share it with you!

One imagines Jesus, stone cold in a dark tomb. Obviously, corpses don’t say much. God the father did a lot of “talking” on Friday, but no signs and wonders happen to be recorded on the day in between. Jesus’ followers have probably gathered, but may be hiding out, keeping a low profile. It seems like it really was a “silent Saturday”. And it seems, with some reflection on my part, and the internet sparking my thoughts, a day of quiet reflection should totally be a part of the Easter story! Life is difficult. There will be hard days. Yet, life is also beautiful, and there will be many a day filled with joy and celebration. And we often need a few silent Saturdays, to balance it all out. To question why God seems to have abandoned us. Why He seems like He is not answering our prayers. Then to reflect on His faithfulness, and draw strength for the next step. Like me listening for signs of life at three in the morning, thankful that things are still “okay so far”.

So, thanks to that friend that happened to mention this phrase to me last week… it ignited a muse that’s spanned a week! Was it news to you? Even if it wasn’t and you knew this lingo way before me, I hope it’s been a good reminder to you, to appreciate a bit of silence. May you take the opportunity to hear the gurgle belch of a good sump pump and appreciate all you have. Be blessed, beloveds.

The Journey of Patience: Lessons from Maple Syrup

Whew! Where has the time gone? This weekend was fun… but it flew by! What did I do Saturday? Oh yeah… groceries, laundry. No time for clean up. Normal, everyday weekend things that simply eat up your time. Yet Sunday was funday! Which leads to this week’s muse. And it’s all about being patient. And it’s about that because I. am. not.

How are you in the patient department? Do you have endless amounts of time to spend waiting….

Spring gave us just a glimpse of warmer weather before winter reared it’s ugly head again… and I got excited. By excited, I mean I dreamt up 101 projects to do on #itsnotta farm. Most of which will not get done. Included in this list, was order baby chicks, and research a maple syrup evaporator. Those did get done. I started my seeds, too. I keep forgetting to check on them though… they likely need watering and bigger pots. Did you hear I ordered more baby chicks?! Right, back to maple syrup. If you recall, we made our first attempt at maple syrup tree tapping last year. We collected a whole whack of sap… and had one miserable boiling day… resulting in about 2 cups of syrup. (You can read about that sticky situation here). The rest of the sap has been sitting in my deep freeze for a year!

The “fancy” redneck evaporator!

So this year… I’m on it. We bought a “fancy” redneck (do those words even go together?!) barrel evaporator and Sunday planned to use the sap up from last year! It was a nice day as spring days go, so we invited the kids and chopped wood. Much to the hubby’s delight, the fire was roaring in said barrel and we were on our way! Syrup, here we come! Alas, we forgot how long sap takes to boil down. It takes a long time. Forever. Even with fancy redneck equipment.

We broke for dinner. Pots and pans were boiling and steaming and we were enjoying the grand baby, the somewhat sunny day, a glass of wine and the camaraderie of family. I waited for the sap to get to the desired “syrup” temperature. It smelled right. It looked the right colour. It tasted right. Still, it wasn’t thickening. Sigh. More waiting. Last year I missed the mark and we sugared out. This year, I don’t know. We bottled the liquid gold … but it’s runny.

So we come full circle, back to my thoughts about patience. My family always complains that I never preheat the oven. Ain’t nobody got time for that. My noodles are al dente. Always. “Just stick that there… it’ll be fine” I say. Have I no patience? It’s a fruit of the spirit, after all… it’s something I should strive for! Just slow down. Wait. It’s easier said than done. I want results!

Photo by Canan YAu015eAR on Pexels.com

(This is kinda how I felt waiting for things to boil down…)

Psalm 37:7 states, “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him; do not fret when people succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.” Am I rushed when it comes to waiting on God, too? I see the plans and get sucked in by all the Instagram worthy homesteaders who have all the projects on the go and I fret. I do! Patience truly is a virtue that I must work on. I suppose winter weather and maple syrup is one way of teaching me. I hope I get the point.

And you, my friend? How’s fruit bearing on your tree? Do you loose it occasionally? Are your noodles al dente the same as your attitude with co-workers? A little hard because you didn’t wait for things to soften out? Are your relationships sweet but simply not thick enough because you haven’t allowed time? I don’t know… some days I think I have it all together. Other days my pancakes just get sticky, but lack substance. It’s all a journey, my friend. We shall try out the fire once again soon. This time, I will try and be patient! Then I’ll write about it and we’ll learn together!