The Best Medicine...

Laughter…the best medicine

Hubby just called…

Here it is going to feel like 34 degrees Celsius today,

Jim is in Sask. He woke up with snow on the hood!

Apparently, according to the farmer he loaded at…

The way to happiness is…

You want just enough money to get by and lots of laughter.

He told Jim he knows of a farmer last year who collected flood and drought insurance…

This farmer is 5’3” and said he is still waiting for his growth spurt.

Their daughter is not growing very fast so the Dr. ordered them to see a specialist to discuss hormone therapy. When they arrived at the Specialist he took one look at the parents and said, ‘he doesn’t know what DR, they are seeing or what he is telling them but you can’t make rats out of mice!’

Janet

Over Yonder

Over yonder the little stream

Where once I used to play

Or sit upon its banks to dream

Like years, has seeped away

The frolic of the water-fall

Is but a sluggish drool

Where cattails drink its umber gall

And reeds the remnant pool

Over yonder the willow tree

That leaned, like daring child

Across the stream, is history

It’s grave, overgrown and wild

And over yonder the little girl

That wandered on its shore

Watches her own wee daughter twirl

Across the dreamer’s floor

Over yonder the little stream

Where swallows dive and dip

Revives the echo of a dream

In moments as they slip

Silent; the ebb of subtle tide

Flowing toward a sea

Where Time relinquishes its stride

In vast eternity

© Janet Martin 

...a few weeks ago I took the little guys to the creek where I loved to wander and play as a child. It was bitter-sweet, this vaguely familiar yet strangely foreign place. I recall my grandfather commenting as we took him to a place he used to work at that 'it just isn't like it used to be'...a four-lane highway ran through the 'place he was looking for'. I remember feeling sorry for him and wondering what that would feel like ...slowly I am beginning to understand.

When we were kids the cattle still roamed through streams eating all the over-growth on the banks etc... that is now illegal because they are concerned about the quality of our drinking water...e coli, and other bacteria.. Many creeks are now over grown with brush.

Wealthy...

Is any wealth richer or grander than this?

The soft breath of dawn on night’s dark abyss

The wind as it chases through steeples of grass

Or dances on ball-rooms of sea-tempered glass

Wild-apple jewels on scraggy-cut limb

The timbre of reverence in twilight’s soft hymn

As far on the skyline each tree is a tower

Etched in precision like a delicate flower

The bird in the bower, the pale, new-moon wraith

The innocent wonder of a child’s perfect faith

The bumblebee hovering o’er delicate bloom

Drunken with nectar from spring’s heady plume

The patchwork of shadows, warm memories to hold

The sway of the willow-tree feathered in gold

The bronze-burnished blush in the waning of day

The impromptu hush as the wind drops away

Then let miser’s covet the fruit of the purse

Money and the love of it is but a curse

Genuine riches leap from vaults at hand

Sapphire-blue heavens over silver-white sand

Ruby-red rose and emerald green hill

The echo of love when the hour is still

For true wealth is found in a moment’s essence

Its treasure is free to both pauper and prince

© Janet Martin

What's for Dinner?

They don’t really care

What clothes you wear

…if your girth is thicker or thinner

As they come through the door

At a quarter to four

They just want to know…

…what’s for dinner?

They don’t judge your skill

As a seasoned cook will

To them you’re a proven winner

As they sniff for a clue

Is it barbeque?

Asking, hey mom,

…what’s for dinner?

God-given delight

A healthy child’s appetite

I can think of nothing finer

As I contemplate dishes

To satisfy wishes

When they ask me, oh mom

…what’s for dinner?

© Janet Martin

(tonight it's chicken breasts, baked potatoes, green bean casserole, and apple crisp) yes, the apples are still from those I cut up and froze in November's 'Ode to the Apple' 

Yes moms, we know...they're ALWAYS hungry..! but imagine if they weren't...
so happy cooking, happy gardening, etc.

Thursday Thoughts~

 He walks on water...the Keeper of the storm

Even the wind and the waves obey Him

...how much more then, ought we?

It is only when we come to the end of ourselves

That God can begin…

For all the good it does not do

Sometimes she wonders

What might have been?

Salty tears

A great heart-cleanser

To love is not the same
as being 'in love'
 

Though duty may shorten its leash

It cannot keep the sun from smiling

Or nature from spilling its art

Through my window; nor can it quell

In the busyness of toil

The music of love in my heart

Come sunlight or shadow

Come high tide or low

God IS; ever changeless

Wherever we go

The Rock of Ages is Ageless

I cannot see the way ahead

Its portend or its girth

So I will put my faith instead

In God of Heaven and earth

He leads me

..Sometimes I am too stubborn to follow

He guides me

…sometimes I am too blinded by self to see

He loves me

…sometimes I forget just how much

Until I remember Calvary

Some friends flutter by

Like a butterfly

…and some are a fly in life’s butter

Some stick, not like honey in your hair

But closer than a brother

 Janet~

Thoughts Gleaned from a Dandelion Field

…on prayer

There is power in numbers

And power in prayer

Together they form

A gossamer stair

With angels descending

In legions sublime

More countless in number

Than seeds on the wind

…on attitude

Self-pity blights the single bloom

Compassion enriches eons

Its after-effects filling earth’s living-room

Like ocean’s of dandelions

…on planting

The bud, the bloom, and back to seed

So is this life in thought and deed

…on harvest

These are not solitary blooms, the deeds we do

Or moments to be taken for granted

But gifts to be cherished for some day we will view

The field that once we planted

They drift upon the winds that play

...the kind words you spoke

yesterday...

If we could count each dandelion seed

I wonder how many there'd be

No matter the number it would be nothing more

Than a wink in eternity...

© Janet Martin

For this reason we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away from it. Hebrews 2:1

Softly Touching Our Hands

Gold fingers reach from a cloak gently softening

Over serene valley, blue-brimming with mist

Into the meadow, where its humble offering

Is threaded with diamonds of dew-silver kiss

The brook winds its sash across spring's emerald garment

Through pastoral wood-lot and out to the sea

Forgotten ponds burst with songs of the season

Turquoise-jade patches on earth’s rugged knee

Gentle breeze rouses the bird from its slumber

Nature’s choristers fill somnolent space

As over the earth spreads a heavenly wonder

Of unmarred perfection; a new day of grace

Yester's red sun, as it slipped from our visage

Tugged with it the day, into history’s embrace

Now it rises again; yet is not encumbered

With past’s soiled attempts; but a new day of grace

And we turn to the Master-piece dazzling the acre

Where grace has allowed us a dot on time’s sands

Thankfulness rushes through our hearts like pure water

As a new day of mercy softly touches our hands

© Janet Martin

It is not difficult to see His beauty on a morning like this…

This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it. Ps. 118:24

Ah, Redemption

Ah, redemption

The athlete cries

As his feet cross over

The finish-line

Ah, redemption

The student cheers

As he waves his diploma

With joyous tears

Ah, redemption

The believer weeps

As he casts his crowns

At Jesus feet

© Janet Martin

"Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it. And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate in all things.
Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an IMPERISHABLE CROWN. Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air. But I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified." (1 Corinthians 9:24-27)

Of Most Loved Moments

…to languish in the magnificence of dust

where miracles leap from sources untouched

…to savor long the invisible bliss

of haunts revisited in thought’s tender kiss

…to bear the searing ecstasy and grief of love

because we can never have too much, or even enough

…to touch you, hold you, caress you because I cannot wait

and tomorrow holds no guarantees but one; it could be too late

J~

Awesome Acknowledgement

Oh God, who can paint on an infinite nothing?

Has ever a man brushed his thought on the air?

Who on this earth can arrange the vast heavens?

Or shift nebulosity with naught but a stare?

Who can design, from the seed its fulfillment?

Man can do nothing but what you allot

The fruit of the field, of forest and garden

Blooms by the measure of Creator’s thought

Who teaches the bud of flower to open?

Or tells the tree its season to leaf?

Has ever a man plucked the rain from the heavens?

Or ordered the wind’s velocity to cease?

How fearful the greatness of our dependence

But for a God who loves us so much

That not one pebble escapes His vigilance

Hope and forgiveness exudes every touch

…and He who arranges the colors of heaven

Or stuns man’s babble to quieted awe

Seeks ultimately, intimately, the best for His children

For in Heaven and earth there is none like God

© Janet Martin

No one is like you, O LORD; you are great, and your name is mighty in power. Jer. 10:6

We gathered there...some on the bluff, others down on the beach
each with our own version of  'watching the sun set...'