Back for a visit...

While watching "Old Glory" wave in the breeze this morning, I got a nice surprise! Bluebie had come back for a visit and had perched atop the flagpole. Unaware of my watching eyes, he seemed very much at home in his familiar lofty perch. He swooped down for a bug or two and returned to his lookout. After several minutes he was off, but not before I snapped this photo of him for my memory book.

"Has he grown since last night...?"

He caught me red-handed looking through the little photo album first thing this morning. "Has he grown since last night?" he asked me with a gentle laugh. I looked again. Examining the little nose and mouth, the tiny hands and fingers, and the lovely dark hair, I answered, "Yup! ...and my heart must have grown again too; because I just can't get enough of this little guy to fill it up!"

Bluebies Evicted Again...

Like last year and the year before that, the pair of bluebirds checked out our birdhouse in April, and settled into it in early May. We enjoyed watching them on a daily basis and looked forward to seeing them raise their family here. Yesterday a chirpy bunch of wrens victimized the bluebird family until they moved out of their little house and disappeared somewhere down the street. Sad to see our "Bluebies" go, we waged war on their diminutive terrorists. Armed with pellet guns and rakes we tried 'scare' tactics. They stood their ground. We shook branches and noisily asked them to leave. They boldly chirped back refusing to relinquish their hard-fought territory...
It's a ritual of the summer. The scene plays itself out every year. We mutter and complain. We storm the battlefield, open up the birdhouse and pull out the sticks the wrens have stacked up. No bluebird nest. The "Bluebies" are raising their family down the street again. Somehow I have a feeling that they will be back next year. It's just a ritual of summer...

Happy Birthday Paula!

Happy Birthday, Paula! One fine June day in the arms of big brother, Chet. Another fine June day wth Sunshine cake. mmmmmmmmm.
Cute little birthday girl...

Paula and the Sphinx...

Tomorrow I will be saying "Happy Birthday to Paula Susan", seen here posing with an older acquaintance of hers. This sister is the grown up version of "babbling brook". She is the sister whose love for words and the WORD has sent her in amazing directions, to wonderful places and, currently, straight into the hearts of her parishioners at Caledonia Church. She is the sister in Christ that I think of when I read in Proverbs 25...
"11 A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.12 As an earring of gold, and an ornament of fine gold, so is a wise reprover to an obedient ear."

Bee thankful........

"Everything in this room was a gift," she said softly, her words breaking into my contemplations. When I was able to pry my eyes off my grandson's little face and look around the nursery, I was amazed all over again and understood her words. Lovingly painted with helping hands and beautifully appointed by generous friends and family, this little room was perfect. It is a tribute to a gracious God revealed through the generosity and love of His people. I glanced from the wonderful reclining rocker and gliding ottoman to the lovely crib and its bedding; including handmade blankets and comforters. I looked at the shelves of children's books and CD's and the "Bee" shelf with its row of soft stuffed toys and the "Bee" picture on the wall. I noticed the rows of tiny outfits and caps and bibs and booties (yes, even the hand knitted kind) and the boxes of Huggies stacked in the closet corner. I saw, again, the diaper disposer, the diaper bag, the stroller, the high chair, the play center and bouncy chair and all the baby bath items. Baby gear, Baby Gap, Eddie Bauer, Baby Einstein and Baby Bjorn.....
"Everything we HAVE is a gift," I thought out loud. I can't name one thing I have that I haven't been given; and I turned back to look at my grandson's beautiful baby face....

The good and perfect gift...

I know that a picture is worth a thousand words, but... even if I could write a thousand words it wouldn't be enough to describe what it is like to gaze upon our first grandchild or to describe the swell of emotion he brings. Here he is! I watch him being born! The child of our child. I look at him. I love him. I wrap my arms around him and my heart envelopes him. My mind, however, is a bit slower to absorb the complete and beautiful truth of his precious life and all that it will mean for us in the days, weeks and years to come. One thing I know for sure is that he is a "good and perfect gift" from God... a gift that will continue to give.

Joy comes in the morning.

If you aren't a morning person, and I am not naturally one, you simply miss out. You miss the beautiful songs of the 'birds of the field' and the blessing they are. The lilting sounds, the chirping tunes, the rhythmical trills and the sweet twitters are God's reminder that a new day is coming and, with it, new joys. Fortunately you can learn to be a morning person and I have adapted to it amazingly. At my house the early bird first starts chirping at around 4:15 A.M. at this time of year. The music starts with the first light of dawn and builds until I am fully awake.
We have encouraged this bird behavior and have become breakfast table bird watchers. Already we have had the joy of observing our bluebirds (the Bluebie family), cardinals, finches, canaries, grosbeaks, wrens, hummingbirds and the faithful, hard-working robins. In the distance I hear the crows calling one another and I wax nostalgic as I listen to the cooing of the mourning doves. Yes, joy does come in the morning! Just listen...