A Late-Afternoon Improvised Daybook. . .

What I've Been Doing. . .

Lissy enjoying NC Wyeth's art at Portland Art Museum.

I’ve been to Portland to visit the members of my family who live up there—Aimee and Josiah and their sweet little girl and Melissa. Melissa and I went to the Portland Art Museum together. She was tickled to see an NC Wyeth illustration (The Great Train Robbery) because Wyeth is one of her favorite illustrators (possibly the favorite?). I own a book with the collected correspondence (maybe just with his extended family) of NC Wyeth, which I love to read. This is the book where I got one of my favorite “kindred spirit” quotes: “Canned life is not agreeable to me.” Yep, I’m with you there, NC!

Franciscan Monk in the Garden of Gethsemane.

John Singer Sargent

 We all agree that this William Bouguereau portrait subject

looks like a cross between little Liya and Michelle!

Seeing a painting in real life, as you know, is so much more striking and wonderful than seeing even an excellent print of it, so we stood and looked over Wyeth’s oil painting for a long time. Another one we both loved was John Singer Sargent’s Franciscan Monk in the Garden of Gethsemane.

On the way back home, Aaron and I stopped off to see Michelle and her three little ones and were greeted with squeals and hugs, which is always nice. The kids showed us all of the things they’ve been doing and pulled out their favorite books for us to read together. Roman showed us the little “mounting board” (a piece of cardboard) where he has been pinning the insects he collects. I love to see this kind of thing! Michelle was busy with her usual projects. She is one of those people who gets things done! Very creative, artistic, and undaunted by any challenge that presents itself. I love to see what she’s been up to when I visit. Today she had the bookcase she built several years ago lying on its back on the floor. She was removing molding so she can replace it with something that looks more substantial. I’m sure it will be wonderful when she's through with it.

Fading flowers, but they still looked sweet on the kitchen window

sill when I walked in the house today.

I arrived back here early this afternoon, and when I came into the house, I realized that this place really and truly, finally, feels entirely like Home. I stepped in the door, took a deep breath, and smiled, “Ahhhh. . .” as I walked through the house, dropping bags and suitcases in whichever rooms  they belonged. I lifted blinds and opened windows to let in today’s really nice fall breeze, admired the feeling early autumn light brings into the house, turned on some music, and enjoyed being back home. The house felt bright and cheerful.

Outside. . .

Breezy, warm weather. Dry  leaves are sprinkled across the front lawn. The large maple in the front yard hasn’t changed much, but the green of the leaves isn’t as vibrant and fresh as it once was, and the leaves almost make a crinkling noise as they rub together in the wind.  It has been wet and drizzly in Portland the last few days, and I assume it was the same here, but today cleared up entirely to welcome blue, sunny skies. On the drive home, I spotted a flock of geese flying overhead in their migratory v-formation. I wonder if they’ll stop by the area where I used to live? It is a magnificent place to live for birdwatchers.

 In the Kitchen. . .

 Stray tomatoes on the kitchen counter this afternoon.

In Portland, Aimee—my vegan daughter—oversaw all food and cooking, and the girl can cook! She’s also extremely knowledgeable about nutrition and makes sure she gets everything she needs from her diet. I love eating Aimee’s food! We went to our favorite food cart, Native Bowl, while we were in Portland, and we all had the Alberta Bowl with, as the menu description says, “ grilled tofu (amazingly tasty!), house-made fire breathing dragon sauce (with sesame and sriracha!), jasmine rice, shredded cabbage, carrots, and scallions.”

All I’ve eaten here at home today, so far, has been popcorn! I make popcorn three or four times a week. I always pop it in coconut oil and then toss it with salt and nutritional yeast. At first I wasn’t sure I liked the nutritional yeast on the popcorn, but now I don’t like eating popcorn without it. The taste really grew on me, and Aaron said the same thing happened to him.

Reading. . .

I lounged around for awhile perusing old magazines.

Not much because who wants to read when visiting family (especially when there’s a cute little grandbaby around)?! But I did read Palace Walk every evening. I’m moving slowly, but steadily, through the book. I sort of regret mentioning it here, though, because I’m afraid it could be offensive to a lot of people. I don’t know if this falls in the category of reading, but I picked up a few vintage Better Homes and Gardens magazines to browse this afternoon. Reading through these is quite entertaining because household and cooking tips seem so obvious, silly, or dated, and in the case of the recipes, often extremely unappealing.

In one of the magazines, I casually glanced at an ad of a college girl in her dorm room who was holding something small in her hands, up near her face, and my immediate thought was that she was texting someone. But I immediately laughed because I knew that this was impossible—when the magazine was published, in 1957, there was no such thing as a cell phone. The girl was actually reading a little book, I think, and what a novel idea! This made me realize, once again, that being alone or having quiet times in our days are no longer givens. Solitude is now something we must carve out, make room for, insist upon. What a loss.

A Few Plans for the Week. . .

To finish cleaning and organizing the house before classes start next week. I need to buy my books, figure out the location of my classes, make sure my financial aid is in order, buy some supplies, get that bus sticker I keep meaning to get, check out a (free!) bike on campus for use during the school year, and a few other things.

I need to think forward to the holidays and make some plans because I need to start now if I’m going to get Christmas gifts done.

I also want to measure some unframed prints, pictures, and artwork and start looking at Goodwill for an eclectic collection of frames. I figure this is a good way to go since I can’t afford to have anything framed professionally, and I can’t afford new frames, either. There are plenty of interesting, vintage and modern, frames to choose from at Goodwill if I will just bother to take the time to look for them. I have some of my kids’ artwork to frame and some other things that have never been hung.

And I need to get my food plan set so that I can eat well during fall term.

I’m also intending to enjoy this fall weather! I pointed out to Aaron the formation of geese I saw while driving this morning, and I said that it is a crime not to pay attention to the seasons. There’s so much to see and notice, and it’s all lovely and interesting! There are deep spiritual lessons in the seasons, too, if we are paying attention.

This afternoon I am thankful to God for a safe trip; for truly wonderful, funny, interesting, smart, kind, generous children and grandchildren; for a car; for food on my table; for natural light; for friends who make my day when I open my mailbox; for so much love in my life; and for peace and joy.

I am a blessed woman.

Monday Daybook. . .

Most of our family (and Monty's) met to celebrate

Roman's upcoming 6th birthday (more photos below).

Early This Morning. . .

The sun pops above the horizon later and later each day. This morning it was right around 7:00 when the sky lit up all yellow in the east. I opened all blinds and windows and stepped outside to feel the air. It was not as cool this morning as it has been recently, but there was still that coming-autumn crispness. Birds sang in the light breeze, and I could tell it was going to be a warm and pretty day. I started the sprinkler running on the front grass and came back inside to make coffee and read my Bible.

I am Wearing. . .

Bare feet. Reading glasses. Messy, shorter hair after an overzealous stylist cut it last week (but it’s a good cut, and it will grow). Cropped khaki hiking pants. Blue polar fleece jacket (that is just about too warm to wear as the morning heats up).

In My Kitchen. . .

I’m enjoying as much summer fruit as I can before it all goes away. In my kitchen right now are blueberries, strawberries, nectarines, and a watermelon. A whole watermelon. And I’ll eat the entire thing all by myself (because I’m the only one here, and because I love good watermelon). I’ll be making my favorite summer-time watermelon gazpacho recipe, along with my absolutely favorite tomato gazpacho.

I’ve also been mixing a nutritious spread that I like. It’s a blend of sweet miso, raw almond butter, and a bit of raw honey. I scrape it across Akmak crackers or on sprouted grain toast, and I love this stuff! But you have to remember that I love eating healthy, so foods that have begun to taste mighty fine to me might make others pinch their nose and turn their head. It’s sort of like that British spread, Marmite, but I like my spread much better. The British eat Marmite, and it’s quite nutritious, but it’s sort of a love-hate thing. In fact, the Marmite ad campaign actually says, “Love it or Hate it”. Interesting, too, that the Danes have outlawed its sale in their country because they do not allow sale of any food items that are fortified with vitamins—not a bad idea, really! Real food = real nutrients.

I made eggplant masala for dinner last night, using a recipe from Alicia Silverstone’s book. It’s tasty but not close to authentic or over-the-top delicious. I’m accustomed to eating the Bangladeshi curries of my son-in-law’s mother, who is a wonderful cook. Her food is amazing.

I’ve had French toast with raspberry spread for the past two mornings, but since more wheat, flour, and grain is starting to creep into my diet, and since I thrive better when I keep them to a minimum, I’m now making a point to back off.

I’m thinking ahead to when school starts at the end of the month and getting my kitchen/freezer/fridge plan set up for eating simply, frugally, and well. It’s a discipline during school days to make a point of creating good meals for myself. I think it’s important to make an effort to prepare healthy, delicious—even attractive—meals and to sit down, eat them slowly, and enjoy the blessing of food with thanksgiving, whether we live alone or are busy with our growing families. 

Reading, Listening, Watching. . .

I’ve been watching Daegu! The world track and field championships. And for University of Oregon track fans, two things stand out. Our young freshman 400 meter runner ran the fastest split at the entire world championships (by any runner from any team in the world) on his semi-final leg of the 4x400 meter relay (43.8—unbelievable!). He didn’t run in the final race, but he won a gold medal for his role in getting the relay team into that final. And our young 1500 meter runner won a bronze medal (third place) when no one thought he would get out of round 1, let alone get out of round 2. And then to place, not just well, but third—the bronze medal!—in the final, was amazing.

Okay. That was fun to watch, and now I have my track fix for the year. . . but cross country is starting soon, and then indoor track, and then spring collegiate track, and then the Olympic trials will be held here in our town, and then there will be the Olympics to watch, so, really, I guess it never ends.

Funny thing, and I think I’ve alluded to this before, but while I really enjoy following these races and the whole track and field scene (I read a few athlete’s blogs), I’m always struck at the same time that this is really just a bunch of highly trained adults chasing each other round and round a circle, fighting for all they’re worth—to the point of pain and utter physical depletion—to be the first one to cross the finish line.

And while I’ll admit that this does sometimes strike me as silly, I am still greatly challenged and inspired by the incredible level of commitment that must be given to do well in this sport. It rightly confronts my own sometimes too-lackadaisical approach to my days and my pursuits. Each day is a gift. It’s wrong not to be fully invested in them, fully alert to the daily leading of God, and determinedly disciplined to throw off hindrances and entanglements so that we can keep our eyes fixed on achieving our daily goals as well as the ultimate goal (Hebrews 12:1-3).

As a lifelong athlete and sports fan, I will in no way oppose James V. Schall, who argues in his book Another Way of Learning that sport is valid and that it, in fact, leads us to the higher things. Sports do not necessarily build character or achieve positive ends in our lives (either as a spectator or as a competitor), but they can. Just as with anything else, it’s how we, personally, approach them, and what we are willing to give and to learn. And, if competition and victory is our ultimate end aim, sports fall short of the Highest Thing. The Highest Thing is to love God and glorify Him forever. Like when Eric Liddell ran and felt God’s pleasure—all the way to an Olympic gold medal. But the medal is beside the point.

I've been listening to Tim Keller. I’ve listened to an old sermon of his on pride about five times since Saturday night. On my first listen to the sermon, a particular section of it smacked me between the eyes literally just an hour or two after I had begun to realize this exact thing was an area of pride in my life. Not coincidentally timely.

And I'm reading “in the beginning.” That’s where I am in my Bible—back in Genesis for another round of reading through the Old Testament. In the New Testament, I’m all over the place so much that I can’t remember where I am in my reading cycle. So, I might start again in Matthew. Or maybe in Acts because I know I’ve read all four gospels this time through.

Vincent's on the left. Mine on the right.

Great minds think alike.
(Just kidding, you know!)

Around the house. . .

With just a little switch of flowers in the vase on the mantle, colors conjuring up the tropics (last week's look) gave way to something that looks like an audition for a Van Gogh painting.

Feeling thankful that I’ve got a great little house for as long as the Lord sees fit to provide the way for me to remain here. It’s cheerful. It’s clean. It’s got wood floors. It’s got lots of windows. It’s in a great part of town. It’s quiet. And I’m blessed.

Pondering. . .

My apathetic view toward going back to school. It struck me this morning that if I believe that this is the path God has me on right now (and He has provided the way via scholarships, etc.), then it is wrong to be apathetic. I need to embrace this to the point that I am enthused and willing to invest myself fully in it. To apply great discipline and effort. Because a Christian is to do all things with all his might to the glory of God.

Blogging, for me, has been a summertime discipline. My posts haven’t ended up being what I thought I’d be posting about, and I haven’t always felt like writing something, but I’ve tried to do it consistently. And while I’ve really enjoyed keeping this blog (it certainly hasn’t been done out of mere duty!), it would have been surprisingly easy to fade away, but I determined when I started that doing this was going to be something of a commitment in a summer when I had few real commitments. I've really enjoyed a sort of reconnection with some of you who used to read my old blog, and it's been fun to become more acquainted with others of you through your comments.

School starts the last week of September. I will keep the blog going until then, and I will try to write several more posts about high school—providing some of the details of how we did it and why—mixed with everyday posts. I’m considering a few possibilities for light blogging during the school year, but I don’t know. . .

Plans for the week. . .

As I mentioned, school resumes soon, so it’s time to start preparing myself for that. I still need to do some paperwork and finalize some things regarding registration. I need to get my city bus pass sticker (free on my student ID card). I need to start looking for work. I need to get organized enough that I won’t feel overwhelmed during the school year by what should have been done during the summer.

At the end of the week is my mother’s 75^th birthday bash. A crowd of us will be staying at a lodge on the coast near my mother’s home for two days of celebrating. Family, food, festivities, fun!

Family Fun. . .

 Roman and his other grandma.

Click away on photos if you want a better view.

On Friday, Aaron, Nicky, Zane, and I drove up the highway to a park in a town north of here where about 20 family members gathered to celebrate Roman’s upcoming 6^th birthday. It was a perfectly gorgeous afternoon and evening in a beautiful place, and we had so much fun that it was hard to leave.

When we arrived, and I climbed out of my car, Jayden excitedly sprinted all the way over to me and gave me a great big, long, squeezing hug. It melted my heart. And Monty’s beautiful mother came to hug me, too. I love her and miss her, so it was wonderful to visit and catch up on her life.

I smiled at something Jayden told me. He and I read Blueberries for Sal every single time we get together. It’s our special book. And whenever it comes to the place in the text where the berries are dropped into the pail, I let Jayden make the sounds: “Kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk.” So, when Jayden was strapped into his seat in the car and ready to leave at the end of the birthday party, he said, “Hey, Gramma Susy, you know what? We went blueberry picking, only it wasn’t blueberries. . . it was blackberries. . . and you know what?! They said, “Kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk!” J Later, Michelle told me that when her family first started picking that day (each with their own pail), she called to Jayden, “Hey, listen!” And as she dropped three berries into her pail, she said, “Kuplink, kuplank, kuplunk!” Jayden loved it! (So do I.)

Roman protecting his candles from the wind.

It took a long time to get these lit because they kept getting blown out!

 "Do I have chocolate on my face?"

 Eating her cupcake.

 Always bubbly Michelle.

 My oldest with her oldest (and only, so far).
Sweet momma, sweet baby.

 Sleepy girl. Another sweet momma.

 I swear she stirred for over an hour!

The girl loves to cook and takes her work seriously.

This last is really not a good photo, but I thought Liya was pretty funny in it, so I added it. I took a lot of pictures, and most of them didn't turn out for one reason or another (hence my kids are not equally represented here!), so I just chose some of them that worked adequately.

A Jam-Packed Monday Morning Daybook. . .

This is the picture-thought I am sharing with you.

Saturday scones. I left out 1/2c. flour, so they were

flat, but they were also quite delicious!

Outside My Window. . .

The grey sky brightens (barely, slowly, perceptibly). Soon there will be sun. Another day in the upper 80’s is forecast for today; this has consistently been our temperature of late. The air is just cool enough that it feels nice with the windows open in the morning. A light breeze gently flutters leaves on the trees in my back yard, where falling apples increase their daily pace. The morning ground is often littered with apples—most of them not of eating quality—and I pick them up and discard them. I’ve brought one or two inside to eat, and they’re pretty good. 

I am Hearing. . . 

As always, the hum of the refrigerator, but today it seems more earnest than usual. (Is something wrong?) Soft, lovely strains of Alina barely making it round the corner from the living room. 

The Books That Were Stacked Beside My Bed Last Night. . . 

Music of Silence by David Steindl-Rast. I read this book about once a year (or so). I bought it in 2006 on the recommendation of sweet Ann of the too-long-quiet Mozart and Mudpies blog. I miss Ann’s gentle voice. She inspired me. 

Goat Song by Brad Kessler. I loved reading this book. It is simple, poetic, and lovely, but quite likely not for everyone, particularly those who cannot imagine enjoying the unflinching reality of goat breeding and birthing, milking, and cheese-making as poetry (the author still might convince you!). I found the book a year or two ago on the clearance table at Borders. I opened it to a random page, and was struck by the writing—the descriptions of nature and bundling up against the cold, as well as the contemplative nature of the narrative. You know how the style of certain authors on certain topics “clicks” with you? That was this with me. 

The Journals of Father Alexander Schmemann. This book is almost always at hand. I read it for his spiritual and cultural insights, plus his love for family, nature, and the ordinary. Schmemann was very real and down-to-earth and could see straight through spiritual silliness. 

Apples for Jam by Tessa Kiros. It’s a sweet cook book to browse and read (and I do love a readable cookbook!). I love this one for her opening essay about family, memories, and food. 

Cooking at Home by Susan Hermann Loomis. This one made my pile last night because I recently read a quote about eating together (families and friends) by Loomis in one of my notebooks, and I wondered if I copied it from this book. Nope. 

Radical Homemakers by Shannon Hayes. Because it’s intriguing. I like this secular look at the beauties, sacrifices, hard work, and joys of domesticity.

The Architecture of Happiness by Alain de Botton. I love the writing. I love the insights. I love reading about the aspects of architecture that are dealt with in this book.

My Bible. I should finish this round of Old Testament reading tomorrow or Wednesday morning, and it’s almost sad. Why are endings so often poignant to me, even when they shouldn’t be? I am a silly woman. I’ll just start back in Genesis and read through again. . .

A yellow file folder of articles and posts. Mine and others’. 

I am Thankful. . . 

That I am well. That there is plenty of fresh fruit in my kitchen. And vegetables. And chocolate. That I got to spend one long, lovely day with part of my family on Saturday. That my relationship with my children, and theirs with each other, is sweet.

Somehow this is the only picture I got of my lovely daughter.

It's nice to have my kids lounging on the furniture!

I am Wearing. . . 

I didn’t mean to, but this morning I broke free of my “morning uniform” rut. My hair is still messy, and my feet are still bare, but I am wearing light-colored cropped khaki hiking pants, a white tank top, a light-blousy pink top over it, and new reading glasses. I love these glasses, but wish I had not gotten clear/white frames (I see this color around and like it, but not so much with these glasses, and not so much on me; but it’s fine and better than my old glasses). 

In the Kitchen. . .

 Roman taking thirds.

On Saturday evening, I opened up the kitchen table, extending it as far as it would go, placed a tablecloth on it, and set six plates in front of the six chairs circling the table. (It was a very laid-back, casual affair, with unmatched, but complimentary, plates and glasses.) I moved to the stove, cooked a potful of Romano green beans, and tossed them with butter and salt.

My favorite Romano green beans.

Picked fresh from my sister's garden.

I sauteed some shrimp in butter and garlic til it was bright pink but not overcooked and spongy, then I squeezed in fresh lemon juice and some grated lemon zest, and I added enough olive oil to the pan to make a nice sauce. Meanwhile I boiled a box of De Cecco rigatoni in water that was “as salty as the Mediterranean,” and when the pasta was nicely al dente, I drained it and tossed it with the shrimp. I added a bit more olive oil because the dish wanted a touch more moisture and stirred in just enough (but not too much) grated parmigiano-reggiano cheese. I slid the shrimp scampi into a pasta bowl, cracked pepper over it, sprinkled a super-light layer of cheese on top, and scattered over some chopped parsely.

Monty walked into the kitchen while I was in the midst of cooking. He looked at me and then at the table, grinned, and said, “Just like old times!”

Yep. And I loved it. We sat round the table, Michelle holding Liya (who didn’t feel well), all of us eating and talking. Roman took seconds, then thirds before his parents said “enough.” Jayden wanted to eat everyone’s shrimp. Everything entirely devoured.

It was a good meal with a set kitchen table and my family round it. The first time I have done this in two years. It made me happy!

Oh, and we had our traditional Saturday morning Chocolate Chip-Lemon Scones with coffee earlier in the day. I accidentally left out half a cup of flour. I knew I hadn’t added enough flour when I pulled the dough together and pressed it out, but I didn’t want to knead in another half cup and risk making the scones heavy and dry, so I left it out. I calculated that the ingredients were good—lots of butter and cream and unhealthiness that would make for a delicious, desserty taste—so even if the scones flattened out completely, they would still taste wonderfully delicious. And I was right.

 Click for a bigger look.

Liya liked her smoothie. Roman is sweet.

And Jayden grabbed the sponge to wash his mug. He's super-focused!

And there were smoothies and, in the evening, popcorn.

They taste better than they look in the picture!

I made these “Chinese Green Beans” recently when Aaron was over in the evening. When Aimee saw us eating them during a video chat and wondered what they were, I told her I would get the recipe to her, and I might as well get it to you, too! I love Asian flavors, so this is one of my favorite green bean recipes, from Jennifer Katzinger’s Flying Apron’s Gluten-Free and Vegan Baking Book (Flying Apron is a bakery in Seattle).  I could eat these green beans all day long, and when I make them, I eat mine and want to sneak bites off the plates of everyone else when they’re not looking.

Chinese Green Beans

with options and suggestions from me

3T. sesame oil (not toasted, but you can add a tiny bit of toasted for flavor)

2 shallots or ½ small onion, minced

2 cloves garlic, minced

½ to 1 chili pepper, seeded and minced (or ½ t. garlic-chili sauce)

1 t. grated fresh gingerroot

2 T. tamari (or shoyu)

1 T. brown rice vinegar

2 t. maple syrup

1 lb. green beans, trimmed

½ c. toasted cashews, finely chopped for garnish

1 T. julienned Thai basil, for garnish

--Heat sesame oil in large sauté pan over medium heat. Add shallots, garlic, chili pepper. Saute til shallots are light brown and slightly soft, about 5 minutes. Add gingerroot, tamari, brown rice vinegar, and maple syrup, and turn off heat.

--Meanwhile, boil or steam green beans until they are no longer grassy-tasting. I like my green beans really cooked til tender and not crisp-tender (but they should not be at all mushy). I don't like the grassy taste of what I consider undercooked green beans.


--Toss beans with sauce and garnish with cashews and basil.

I am Pondering. . . 

Lots of thoughts are crossing my mind, and some of them stay there for awhile. I suppose these are my ponderings.

One came about on a walk. I had just crested a steep hill and was enjoying the view of the southern hills from there when I heard soft strains of music. I looked off to the left and saw a young woman in a summery skirt and blouse, walking slowly along with her hose watering her flower garden. Just when I looked at her, she glanced at me, and we smiled at each other.

“It’s peaceful,” I said.

And she replied, “I try.”

I was struck by that. “I try.” Because that’s it, isn’t it? True, deep inner peace is a gift from God. We seek Him, we surrender to His will, we set our mind and heart on Him, and we find “peace that passes all understanding.” But outward peace? We try. We create it. And because of that inner pace we have been given, we are both constrained and enabled to make order out of chaos, just like God did and does.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Creating order out of chaos or mess is a God-like act. And this orderliness brings a sense of sweetness and peace: to our home, to our family, to our inner spirit, to our outward behavior. “For God is not a God of disorder but of peace.” This is why we do our domestic work. This is why we continually battle disorder. This is why we file things. This is why we declutter. Order brings peace and allows for the enjoyment of beauty. Blake’s words have become my domestic mantra: “All in order, sweet and lovely.”

Okay. I think one “pondery” thing is enough for one day. 

Making Home “Sweet and Lovely”. . . 

The garage is almost entirely gone-through. At the opening end of the garage, I have a large stack of things to be taken to the dump or Goodwill, and at the other end are a few items of furniture I can’t fit, or don’t want, in this house. There are also more boxes I need to sort through to streamline what I’ll keep. Christmas things. Papers. Memorabilia. (Who wants the encumbrance of carryiing boxes of stuff through one’s life?!) I’ll go through those few remaining boxes little by little.

My second bedroom—disastrous a few weeks ago—is in tidy order. Instead of creating a huge mess of stacks of papers all at once from the boxes of writings I’ve created and collected, I am working through little bits of each box at a time. This is both more manageable and more enjoyable. I’m in no hurry. I like reading through these old papers. 

I Went. . . 

On a Sunday afternoon hike with Aaron, JoAnne (my sister), and Gene (her husband). We drove to Mt. June, and hiked to the top. At its 4,623 foot elevation, June not a big mountain like the ones we were in last weekend, but views from the top were still pretty, and the walk to the peak through the woods felt cool and soothing on a warm day.

It looks like we're about to enter a fantasy-wood.

Lots of tall trees on this hike.

View from up top.

Toward the place we backpacked last weekend.

Me going back down.

The filtered light was pretty all along the trail.

JoAnne and Gene coming down.

There was a lot of fallen timber along the way.

Most of it was cleared away by chainsaw,

but we walked over this rotted log.

Ferns abounded, too.

It all looked amazingly lush for late August.

 End of trail.

I am Thinking. . .

About the wonders of coconut water! :-)

During WWII, in the Pacific, medics used coconut water as IV fluid. It is sterile, has a natural antiviral, antibacterial, and antifungal properties, and it is said to closely resemble blood plasma. It’s actually not identical to plasma, but the fluid worked wonders for injured or sick soldiers who needed it. Medics didn’t even bother to strain the fluid or move it to an IV bag. The IV ran straight from a hole made in the coconut to the arms of the soldiers. It was most sterile this way.

Coconut water has a nice balance of electrolytes and is used by many as a recovery drink after a workout. This is terrific for almost all of us, but here, too, experts say, coconut water is not perfect (they say too low in salt and too high in zinc for a perfect replacement drink for those who are elite athletes or who do extremely intense workouts. . . but some just add a pinch of salt).

And now I’ve found another use for coconut water. They make awesome, natural, pure eye-drops! I awoke the other morning with scratchy, red, allergy-eyes (and some puffiness). I’ve had all-natural eye-drops around before, but I couldn’t find any, so I looked online to see if coconut water might be okay to use. Yes, indeed—recommended even. So, I tried it. Washed my eyes with the stuff, and, sure enough, my eyes were soothed, and the redness went away. I like this. It’s cheaper and even more natural than the concocted “natural” stuff.

A Quote I am Leaving With You. . .

“Simple bourgeois happiness is often despised by activists of all sorts who quite often do not realize the depths of life itself; who think that life is an accumulation of activities. God gives us His life, not ideas, doctrines, rules. At home, when all is done, life begins.”

~Alexander Schmemann