Seeing Red

Every year the kids go on a Christmas shopping spree at Walmart… sometimes using our own money to buy us gifts. Seems counter-active, I know, but whatever. Usually we end up with something they want. This year, as I was releasing them to the abyss of the super centre, I pointed out the Christmas boxes of amaryllises. Those seasonal bulbs all contained in a little kit, stacked up eyeball level high in the aisle next to the check outs. ”Mom might like one of these” I suggested, with a wink and a nod. It was a cheap gift — and so there it was Christmas morning.

Excited, that my own money was actually used to purchase something I wanted, I plunged the sad looking bulb into its pot and emptied the bagged soil; lovingly tucking it in with hopes it might do something. I watered it through the season and all of a sudden it sprang to life one day! Not one, but two beautiful blooms! A deep, Christmas red with even darker, wine coloured highlights. It made me smile. I’m not sure how long it will last, but the flower made me happy in the dark of wintery January. Now that February has rolled around, flowers, hearts and the colour red has come forward once more. And it has me musing again.

February is my “blog-aversary” and it has been a long journey, this mittonmusings.com. I haven’t gone viral, I barely have a couple hundred followers, and as much as some of my writing has improved, we plod onward with little recognition. That’s okay. Perhaps it’s as much of a journal for me as it is a quick read for my beloved readers. Back to red. I’m reminded of our colouring party… which seems like barely a blink ago, but we explored the symbolism in the Bible of colours way back in 2020!! I invite you to go back and dive in. The post about red is here. I must say, I was on fire then… lots of research went into that endeavour. Huh. Maybe I should host another “theme” series. Whattya think? Perhaps I’ll do a post over on Instagram to see what ya’ll might like.

This week the “red” was thick and dark for me. As an introvert, adjusting to a new city has been difficult for me. I’m trying to do my best to be friendly and courteous, but it’s been really tough to cut through that thick skin of well established groups and culture of “small town”. My heart has been slashed a few times and I’m trying to keep from bleeding out. I’ve been trying to mull it over in my mind. Trying to dig deeper. Think. 

A friend (a good friend with whom I have history with) made it simple. All of us are broken. Some of us must balance our own need for connection with the brokenness of others. Until we are able to level the playing field and realize we are all in the same boat, it’s difficult to build bridges. We need to have shared experiences to connect. Only when we break through the surface do we all bleed red. Which is kind of cool to think that in Christian circles, we talk about how Jesus’ blood covers our sins and cleanses us. Bloodshed allows us to be all put on the same playing field. It was necessary. Sacrifice is required. Deep and painful and rich. Like the colour of red I’ve been seeing this week on my windowsill. Oh, God is good at visual reminders!

My blooming reminder!

So, my little quip this week is not full of research and facts, but more of a journal-to-myself-with -an-audience-on-the-internet post. Seeing red is not always angry. Perhaps, it may mean the exact opposite. Thanks, kids, for the gift that keeps on giving.

I was Inspired by the Trees

I was inspired last week. I came up with a great idea and got excited about it. Today, I am not so sure. Story of my life. This is our first spring on #itsnotta farm and I’ve already ordered my seeds for this year’s garden. I can handle that. What else happens in Canadian spring? Maple syrup. Nothing more Canadian than the sticky, sweet sap of a sugar maple wrapped up in a glass bottle with a custom sticker on it, right?! I was inspired last week. The previous owner left buckets and spigots and assured us there were trees in our forest patch. We went looking the other day. We have maples, yes, but do you think we know the first thing about gathering sap and tapping trees?! Google on the hubby’s phone and wikihow didn’t help much either. It’s early February. Days are warm and nights are cool. ”They” say the sap is running. Whoever “they” are. ”They” aren’t helping.

Photo by Matt Barnard on Pexels.com

I was inspired last week. I put out a plea to a local Facebook group for sap mentoring. I sent an email. I inspired someone else in the group to try syrup again this year! I have yet to have help. There’s still time, I tell myself. Just drill a few holes. Spend hours in front of a fire, boiling down sap (that apparently lines the walls in a gooey condensation). Use up firewood and propane. The results will be worth it. It can’t be that hard. I’m still inspired. 

Did you know that trees defy gravity? Huge, round maples, towering out of the ground in multilayered trunks and limbs cannot move, but they do defy gravity. Without boring ya’ll with the science behind tree sap, just know that due to a bunch of root pressure, certain temperatures, and the need for leaf food from root nourishment… sugary sap flows UP. Against the grain. Trees fight gravity and win. (If you really want to know all the gory, science-y details, here’s a good article to read: Maple Syrup Mechanics).

I am always amazed at how God has designed nature to defy the odds and win. Nature in its simplest form declares the Glory of God. Wholly and uniquely. Creativity in the max. I’m still inspired. Hands that flung stars into space, also created the mighty ant who carries up to 50 times its own body weight. Furthermore, so much of that creation was given to us to enjoy! The fruits of the vine. The sugars of the tree. The sun on our faces. The colours of the sky. We should all be inspired.

The crew has been learning to adjust to a new culture here. Things are slower. Things are both good and bad. Things are certainly different. We don’t know anyone. We have no roots here. We have very little history with the people we have met, and we are still trying to maneuver our way around without the comforts of “home”. Some days it feels like we are trying to defy the laws of gravity. Pushing upward in an attempt to feed our souls. Trying to fit in but not really knowing where we belong. We want the sweetness of real friendship but it’s just out of reach. Thus far. Like the maple trees, we need the right conditions to “get things flowing” so to speak. We have to keep trying. We have to be patient and kind and understanding. We hope that those around us do the same for us. 

If there is one thing we can learn from God’s creation it is that we can do hard things. We can be inspired to push onwards and upwards. A friend used to tell me that she could only love certain people because of an “extraterrestrial force”. She meant that only God could give her that unearthly dose of love for that person… she didn’t have it in her own heart. She couldn’t do it on her own. Inspiring. 

I’m still hoping we will tap some trees in our little woods. I’m still hoping we will not be disappointed in the effort and get a few bottles of syrup. I hope we will try to do hard things and be rewarded for our efforts. Because the results are sweet, aren’t they? I’m hoping we get some response to our cries for help. Maybe we have to bite the bullet and just drill a few holes and see what happens. That’s what Youtube is for, right? I’ll keep you posted on that adventure.

Photo by Marta Wave on Pexels.com

As to the rest — pray with us that we take inspiration from the trees and do hard things. We know God grants us the ability to do so. We must continue to plug on through the cold winter season, knowing that soon the spring will come and new life begins to literally flow in our veins. Then we will reap the sweet reward of our labours and enjoy the taste of lasting friendships and new beginnings. I am inspired once more.  

Building a Firm Foundation

Another week has flown by! Is it just me or does time seem to go faster when we get older? Nonetheless, it’s one of those constants we can rely on, eh? Time. The sun rises and the sun sets no matter what we do. One of the blessings we have in Canada is the changing of the seasons. October is one of those months where this fact is ever so evident. One moment we are in shorts and t-shirts, the next, we’ve donned our hats and jackets. Do we put the heat on or the air conditioning? Yep, October is that kind of month.

photo via Unsplash

So we find ourselves in this month of flux, pondering about the future. Specifically, we find ourselves thinking about the impending Canadian winter. It will be our first winter here in the country — and we hear the wind is something to contend with. Apparently we get some big snow drifts as the winter wind whips its way across the now cleared and barren farmer fields. Our little brick century home is surprisingly cozy and warm so far. In fact, the family and I are in debate about the temperature… it’s too hot, it’s cold, turn up the heat, open a window… and so it is in October.

Which brings us to our current project: firewood. We have a wood burning fireplace in our kitchen and my husband is delighted. He’s a bit of a fire fan. Now that the pool is closed up, he has switched his attention to learning all about fireplaces. He sourced a local farmer and ordered a bushel? A peck? A cord? A giant pile of firewood and kindling that arrived and was dumped on our driveway last week. More work for us! Now don’t worry, we haven’t gone off grid and wood will not be our main source of heat through the winter, so do we need the fire? No. Will it supplement our output and bring the country to our winter? Sure. Do we need it in October? Maybe not.

Alas, a few fires have been lit – just to test it out – I’ve been told. Especially at night… because, you know, that’s the coldest time in this unpredictable fall season. Which is all well and good until our fire protection starts screaming at us that “there is smoke in the dining room and the alarm will sound shortly”. Needless to say, the bedroom windows got cracked open and all was well in short accord. Well, all was fine after the late night debate on smoke in the house versus heat and necessary timing of fires in October versus the heart of winter. No worries. We still love each other.

Still, let’s go back to the thought of a cord of firewood in our driveway. (Which, should you care, according to Google is “an amount of wood, when racked and well stowed, occupies a volume of approximately 128 cubit feet. A pile 4 foot by 4 foot by 8 feet.) Emphasis on the racked and well stowed. Number one, we needed to find a clean, dry space for this wood. Number two we needed to get it there, and number three, it needed to be stored in some organized manner for use through the winter.

My pile was looking pretty good. Until.

We have a cleared space not far from the house under some thick cedars that was the previous owner’s wood pile. A few logs are under there and it is fairly dry and usable. A little farther out is an empty metal shed currently used by the squirrels for their own winter collections of pine cones and the like. This seemed like the most logical place to set up the wood pile. And so we began the task of loading the newly acquired wheelbarrow and trekking wood. Oh… before that we had to shovel out the pine cones. Sorry to disturb your hard work, chipmunks.

Easy, right? A bit of manual labour never hurt anyone. Great workout. I soon discovered stacking wood is an art. You must start with something to lift the small logs off the ground, then fit small and large pieces together like some delicate game of Tetris… soaring ever so much higher until your shoulders ache from lifting above your own stature. I was doing well. It looked good. The fire pit master approved. Until. Until I casually tossed that log over my head and the right side of my pile shifted and logs began to slide. Then the whole six foot pile began tumbling to the right, sliding like Dominos, one after the other until my neat stack was again, just a pile.

I managed to regain my “racked and well stowed” pile with some strategically placed perpendicular logs along the side, and relied heavily on the walls of the shed for long term crash avoidance. Even though I don’t really want the wood leaning on the metal for fear it dents. Plus, there is something about proper air flow for dry wood you are supposed to adhere to for good storage. Live and Learn.

And so the adventures of city turned country bumpkins continues to unfold. Just the same, it gives me something to think about. How many times have I simply traveled along in my journey, piling up the accomplishments and achievements, only to have it come crashing all down on top of me. Why? I missed that firm foundation needed to make those accomplishments solid. The Gospels tell us that if our foundations are built on the solid rock of Christ, we will be able to stand firm when trials and tribulations come our way. Many of you are familiar with the builder who built his house upon the rock so that the winds could not shake it.

And so it is with us. Our Rock is firm. If we focus on laying those solid pieces of anchor logs (truths and promises shared with us in God’s Word), we are told that then we are safe to build and stack those racked and ready life plans for the future. Agreed, sometimes we tend to rely on the metal shed walls of our environment to catch us. Self help and worldly promises often do the job temporarily. Eventually, those, too, dent and give way to the pressure of the pile.

It takes discipline to develop those foundations. It is an Art. Once it is learned, we are guaranteed a constant supply of warmth and comfort in the dark dreary days of winter. Our hard work pays off in contentment. Preparation is a big deal here, and I’m discovering it is a well learned skill shared down through generation to generation. It pays to listen. I’ve got to get the wheelbarrow loaded up again and finish up the last few remnants of sticks still strewn across the driveway – because soon November will arrive and we will need a fire.