We are definitely in the throws of winter now. Twelve and a half inches fell on Indianapolis’ far eastside on Tuesday into Wednesday. I don’t know for sure, but I think we received more snow in that twenty four hours than we did all of last winter!

The snow was pretty to look at, but quite a chore to deal with. I shoveled one of our two driveways, the front walk to the house and the sidewalk next to the street, only to have it blow and snow it to the point where it looked as though I hadn’t done anything.

This first photo is of our lamp post in the front yard. With all the snow it reminds me a bit of the Lamp post in the Chronicles of Narnia.

Even better was the view of our picnic table on the back deck. Heaped up with pure mounds of snow I couldn’t help but ask “Picnic anyone?” and “Now, where’s that grill?”

OH DEER!! Here is a photo of a deer that I captured with my camera. She was all nestled into a thicket near Coffee Creek in Chesterton, Indiana. After we went to church, she was lying in an area where we had spotted her standing earlier.

As of this posting, there are still several thousand homes without electricity due to heavy ice damage in southern Indiana. I am so thankful that we didn’t have that mess. Kentucky has so many trees and power lines down that utility people are coming in from other states to help get them back up and running.

Here at home, I am thanking God that we have heat and no tree damage. Only 42 more days ’til Spring!! But then, who’s counting . . . I AM!!

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I went ahead and stepped out onto the back deck and was instantly taken by what a beautiful night it was. The temperature was refreshingly cool, but not cold. The humidity that was so oppressive just yesterday was now a nice moisturizing caress as the wind gently blew. The night was quiet with only rustling leaves and upper level wind sounds moving the clouds across the moonlit sky.

That’s when I saw it! The moon was gorgeous. The last time I was so mesmerized by the lunar light was during the solar eclipse earlier this year.

So I ran inside and grabbed my digital camera to see if I could capture what I was seeing. Mind you, mine is a point and shoot digital with very few of the higher tech lenses and settings that I enjoy on my 35mm, so I decided it would be fun to experiment.

I played around with settings; flash *ha* vs. no flash, zoom out vs. zoom in, holding at different angles, holding close to body and stiff vs. away from body and loose. I was having a lot of fun as I incorporated some treetops or branches and composed different shots.

Then I did something I haven’t done in years. I went out into the yard and just laid down in the grass and gazed skyward. I didn’t really care that the ground had dampness from all of yesterday’s rain or that dew was collecting on the blades on which I was about to repose. Though Spirit was quite confused as to why I was lying in the grass in the dark and taking photos, nevertheless, she came to join me and we made a memory that I just had to share.

Though my initial motivation was to lie down to stabilize myself for no flash nighttime photos [because I was determined NOT to go inside and dig out my tripod], I soon found myself once again under the spell of the ‘lesser light of the heavens’.

I was truly enjoying my time watching the high cloud shapes and colors dancing with the moon. I found myself watching the colors change as the bright orb temporarily ducked behind the passing clouds. I even found myself eagerly anticipating when the moon would emerge in the upcoming clearings.

It was as if the moon were saying to the clouds, “you may think you can keep me from shining my light, but your opposition to my mission is merely temporary. You will pass on by, while I will remain. Your desire to stop me from my purpose is but a mere hindrance. In your attempt to hide me, to shame me and belittle my light, you have actually brought about additional interest to the nighttime sky. So, like Joseph of the Old Testament, I say to you, ‘you meant it for evil, but God meant it for good.”

The Bible says that even without another person’s testimony, creation itself will testify to the existence of our supreme creator. It was a blessing to have the moon reminding me that though the clouds seem dark and ominous at times, though they seem as if they will snuff out anything I try to do and attempt to make me disappear, yet will I continue to burn on. The light that God has given me is just as bright as it emerges from me whether I am behind a cloud of opposition or in a clear spot. The passing clouds of various earthly trials are fleeting events.

The very clouds of what appear to the world as threatening to my very existence have no effect on my ability to shine for God. If I continue to shine, the colors may change, and shadows dance across the landscape. However, if I keep my focus on reflecting the Son’s true light, those watching can join with me in anticipation of the hope that is ours and the celebration as we emerge victorious on the other side.

What’s more, though I did not change in the amount of light I was reflecting, it would appear to the observer that I am shining even more brightly as I come out of the shadow of the clouds than had I been simply alone in the sky and unhindered!

Yes. It definitely was a very interesting night.

I would value your response if you would kindly comment on this post.

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and here’s another video

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After feeding it is bath time; messaging clean and then down belly and to the tail to help newborns learn to eliminate after eating and outside of the sleeping area.

Plus by noticing their elimination, I can tell if they are digesting well. That and their energy level tell me they are doing fine so far. : )

This is wild mama rabbit behavior and Sable is learning to clean not only himself but also his sibling.

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Though not the softest of nipples, the monoject helps me deliver the formula (condensed milk, goats milk, clover honey and soluble vitamins). I am very careful to not depress the plunger too fast so as to prevent aspiration.

I learned that bunnies of this age, eyes are not opened yet, will eat about 2 times a day and about 2 ml per feeding. Most important feeding time is between midnight and 5 a.m..

Whatever the cc/ml amount, I look to the little one to tell me when it is full and look for signs of a nice rounded tummy when done.

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This is the second day of caring for the newborn orphan cottontails.
Their 3 older siblings were killed when the nest was destroyed by either our terrier or the neighbor’s cat. Mother bunny didn’t pick a very good spot for them.

They still have sign of umbilical stub and were quite emaciated when I rescued them. Each of them weighed just over 1 oz. Although the odds are greatly against survival of babies this small, I think that my animal husbandry skills improve the odds.

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I would rather spend all day out there than do laundry, wash dishes, vacuum or grocery shop. There is just something about digging into the dirt, breaking up the tough crust of the earth and pulling out the weeds that is therapeutic. The feel of the worked soil and the actual smell of the earth and fresh plants adds to the sense of feeling like I’m a part of creation.

Since my shoulder injury at the beginning of July, I am really missing the time that I used to spend gardening. Even mowing the grass was “gardening” to me. Plus, I would be getting fresh air and exercise. Alas, my bum right shoulder is severely painful and limits what I can do.

This past Friday, I received the bad news that I would need to cut physical therapy short and go back to my family doctor for more diagnostic tests (probably an MRI). I simply am NOT getting better even with what PT I can do. In fact I’m getting worse. The therapist thought I should be further in recovery if nothing worse was wrong… so… back to the doctor I will go. UUUGH>- -<

This is bad news for my gardening urges. I have managed to stay on top of critical issues like watering, feeding; dead-heading and harvesting. However… here in Indy we have had quite a bit of rain and the weather is fabulous so vegetation is getting the density of a jungle. And this shoulder makes it extremely difficult to pull weeds. Hoeing/// Forget about it! Running the mower or weed-eater… No Way!

So I must watch in dismay as my garden looks so much more scraggly than it should. I must ask for help from my husband to do things that I would normally do. Humble pie just does not taste as good as the cherry kind.

“Whatever things are true, honest, righteous, pure, lovely, of good repute, excellent or worthy of praise let your mind dwell on these things. . .” Phillipians 4:8,9

Click here to view To snap out of these bummed shoulder blues… I decided to finally post the many photos I have taken of my garden and flowers so far this year. I hope you all enjoy them.

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Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always enjoyed the garden. I like the idea of helping to make the magic of a garden happen. My brother and I would have some really awesome dirt clod fights as we prepared the seed beds. We did have to put a size limit on what an acceptable dirt clod looked like, or else welts would appear after being pummeled by a hunk of Indiana clay that acted more like granite than dirt. OUCH!

Oh, and the fun times I had as a teenager, driving the tractor as my dad screamed “quit driving so crooked… straighten it up… what are you doing?” Have YOU ever tried to steer a hopping tractor in a straight line when it’s bouncing across ruts and valleys?? Well, it’s not easy. The stripping of the gears and popping of the clutch, the smell of the diesel spewing out of the exhaust that mixed with the smell of the nearby hay, these are but a few of my farmin’ memories.

But after we got through the hard part of removing any boulders or rocks or stumps, turning over the soil, plowing and then discing so that the soil became workable, then we would use the harrow and even out the topsoil. We three older kids got to ride on the top of the harrow on a platform to help weigh it down as Dad pulled it along. It no longer looked like the same landscape. The soil was prepared. It looked receptive. Ready to bear whatever we planted.

That’s when the real fun began. We’d take out the kid’s wagon full of supplies. Seed packets and a few seedlings we’d started inside to be transplanted in our new garden. Dad would lay out some twine between a couple of twigs and hoe a beautiful little furrow. He always knew just how far apart in childrens hand-breadths and how deep in kids finger depth to place the seeds. So we kids were entrusted with the responsibility of following those directions exactly for the crop he had us working on, while he went on to hoe another row. Seed down in the furrow, next seed, cover with dirt, press down firmly and a cup of water to drink… and so the pattern continued for most of the day.

Yes, my father did a wonderful thing in that family garden. He taught his children to appreciate good, hard work. The joy that comes from being a caretaker and a partaker of the fruits of personal labor and God’s gracious miracle of provision.

The Good Book talks about how a seed must die, before it can live. But once it dies in the ground, it sends out a brand new sprout which seeks out the light and pushes it’s way up through the soil. Then it stretches toward the sun and sends out branches and leaves, pods and beans, fruits, etc. All of these in turn, produce even more seeds!! Not to mention some delicious eating for some growing children.

I used to hate it, when Dad would make us go and pull weeds. Especially cutting down thistles that were as tall as I was. But I learned the importance of keeping the weeds down so that the soil’s nutrients would not be robbed from the crop that we desired.

To this day, I so enjoy the feel of the dirt when it is just right. The soil is warm and moist to where I can pull even the deepest dandelion before it sends up colonies of weeds. I love the feel of the dirt on my hands (I only use gloves for the hardcore stuff). Even dirt under my fingernails is not as annoying as it once was. I can smell the minerals in the soil, especially after a nice springtime shower.

As I relive all these pleasant memories, I can’t help but recall all of the similes that are found in a garden. God chose to start His creation of man in a garden. Provision and beauty abounded. There was purpose and fellowship, joy and love in that garden. Yes, the garden is a wonderful illustration of the Marvelous Master Gardener and His loving, nurturing care for me and those I love.

No wonder I love to garden so.

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Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path.
Psalm 119:105 (New International Version)

Okay, today I am going to embark on a new journey into the world of blogging. It’s not that I am any more of a deep thinker than most people, but I do have some thoughts that are worthwhile. Besides, I believe it will help cement what I am learning. At the same time, it may actually be of some benefit to someone else who might be reading.

So If you would like… please join me on the journey!

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