How Long Do You Get to Live?


Just yesterday.

A woman said.

“I can live until 77.” Cracking a joke everyone over 50 identifies with.

I thought, when is the value of a life measured in dollars and cents?

Of course, she was referring to her retirement account and it’s longevity. Which seems to be the determinate of a lifespan (at least among my crowd) these days.

Saving for retirement is a lot like saving for a child’s college. Completely necessary, often forgotten, and, I would add, not always realistic when college tuition is skyrocketing, and stocks are dive bombing. I was told 2 things regarding old age.

  1. Marry well so someone can take care of you in your old age.
  2. If you don’t marry well, have a lot of children so they can take care of you in your old age.

I did neither. I’ll add that neither did I work

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Skinny Girls and Over-50 Girls


You know what I really don’t like? Women who post pictures of their food and it’s pancakes piled high with syrup dripping everywhere, bacon, eggs, and a slab of ham for good measure, and that woman is a size 2. And then, later that same day, she posts pics of her peanut butter pie with chocolate sauce on her face, captioned, “Peanut Butter Pie!!” As if we can’t see that. It’s all over her social media. You can’t escape it.

I’m sorry. I’m 56. The word metabolism left my vocabulary just like it left my body somewhere in my mid-40’s. Listen it’s a 19 year old’s world (and girls, enjoy it now), because once you’re over 50, unless you’re fasting the other 6 days a week, there is no eating like that. If there is, something ain’t right.

On our first snowy morning, I delighted Micah with

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Morning Bible Study

A Morning Bible Study


I’ve learned, over the years, to reach for my Bible first thing each morning. Nothing else can come first. Well, a pot of coffee can, and the dog gets to go outside to pee, but that’s it. I won’t even switch last night’s load of laundry because we all know what would happen if I did. And, my phone is turned off.

It goes like this. I read the chapter, pick the first 5-6 verses, and begin. Here’s my page header.

Galatians 1: 1-5       January 11, 2016  

I divide each verse into a, b, and c.

1a) From Paul, an apostle (not appointed by men, or a human agency, but by Jesus Christ, and God the Father, who raised him [Jesus] from the dead). 1b) God raises the dead and God gives us our appointments. 1c) What appointment has God given me?

A: I

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Gather the Moments of Your Life


Gather the moments of your life.

653

I mean this literally. Find something to gather with. I have so many gardening baskets, I’ll use one of those. For you, maybe it’s a tailgate basket. Or a big, beach bag. Or a grocery bag. It doesn’t matter. Take something, because this is important. It is important because it is your life, and it tells a story. I want you to see your beautiful story. I want you to see how beautiful you are. So, take whatever it is, and grab a notepad.

Walk through your home. What do you see? Pictures, books, journals, toys, a table, a chair? Notice it all. Pick it up, examine it. Let your mind go back to the day of significance. Open

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From a MIL to all you DILs: Some Advice


During my child-raising years, I led a women’s weekly Bible Study. I was blessed to do so.

It was a large group of women and, as you can imagine, many came to me with prayer requests. To my astonishment, the primary request was, “Pray for my relationship with my mother-in-law.” When I inquired as to the problem, not surprisingly, the problem was always the mother-in-law. As much as I loved every woman in that group (and I did, with great devotion), I gotta say, most of the complaints were downright petty. I wondered who the problem really was.

My mil said this, she did so-n-so with the kids, I hate her food, she hates mine, the holidays, and on and on the grievances went.

As my mom used to say, “Don’t take offense where offense is not meant, and generally speaking, it is not meant.”

Touché. And
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Rest, Transplanted and Still Blooming, Cinthia Milner

Get Some Rest (And some Takeout)


Lately, when I wake up, before I even open my eyes, my mind forms the words, “Lord, send back-up. I’m pooped.”

He hasn’t.

I’m still waiting.

Today, I got a little aggravated. It isn’t every day that I openly acknowledge running out of steam. It isn’t every day that I cop to being too exhausted to run the world, or my itty-bitty portion of it. I rarely admit to being overwhelmed or unable. I know, silly me. But, since I did cop to it, I figured God would send in the troops. I imagined him proud and waving off his angels to aid me, saying, “Yes, go. She’s finally learned a new word: Help.”

Well, I did learn a new word. So where the heck is the help? Are the angels delayed as they were with Daniel? (Daniel 10:12) Fighting off the kings of Persia? Is Persia
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BB Barns Garden Center, Garden Tour, Transplanted and Still Blooming, Cinthia Milner

Edible Gardening from BB Barns Garden Center


“Who doesn’t love homegrown tomatoes?” asks Letha Hinman, BB Barns Garden Center’s annual, veggie and herb buyer. One could also ask, after a visit to Letha’s garden, who doesn’t like rhubarb, shiitake mushrooms, hops, squash, fruits, raspberries, and more?

This blog kicks off BB Barns Garden Center’s Garden Tours for the month of August. Four brave employees volunteered to give you a peek into their gardens, so look for a new blog each week (A Native’s Garden, What Can You Plant on a Bank, Edibles and Ornamentals: From Barney Bryant) . Letha’s garden is first because, as she said, “Who doesn’t love homegrown anything?” And veggies are always a good place to start, especially if you are a beginner, because what’s more rewarding than eating what you grow?

A little background on Letha (for those who always wondered about our engaging annual buyer).

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Preparing for Death and Climbing Mt. Everest


 

Call me morbid, but I have realized recently that death is imminent. One of my sisters made the comment that, if statistics are correct, then one of the four of us will die within the next ten years. While I hope stats are wrong, the possibility is a very real one. I don’t relish it.

And yet, I call myself a Christian.

Why bring that up? I guess I thought being a Christian meant I’d be completely prepared for death, maybe even looking forward to it since I’m a big fan of Jesus. But, if being honest is a virtue, then me being virtuous is me saying, I am so not ready for that. I’m not ready for one of my sisters to die. I’m not ready to die.

When the kids were little, I’d often pray, “Just until they’re both 18, then I can die,

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Christians are No Longer Cool


I left my sheltered world of a stay-at-home mom on the farm, went back to work, and quickly found out that being a Christian is so not cool. I don’t know if it ever was cool, but I’d never gotten flack for being one, until now.

It seems, I’m suspected of judging every single soul on the planet. Like Santa, I’m thought to be sitting at home making a list of who’s naughty and nice, and checking it twice. (I’m not. I’m actually watching NCIS:LA. LL Cool J is my celebrity crush.) I’m told by people, who do not know me or my faith, that I should never judge another person. It just isn’t right.

I looked up the word judge. It means to form an opinion or conclusion about.

Ok, yeah, I’ve done that. From like, preschool on.

But mostly over stupid stuff. Not the

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