Paths In My Life. 
                            
                               I walk with Jesus. 
                At times He is beside me, or walks in front . . .
              behind with hands guiding me away from danger.                   

At a long, winding and difficult turn in the path I veer off to rest awhile before going on. 
 I see Him up ahead and rush to catch up.
"Lord," I call out. "This a lonesome, desolate place. A place of Unfinished Dreams."






 "Then let's leave this place and find another. A New Path - down the hill to the bottom and through the gate. Turn right and follow the gravel road. When you get to the end of the gravel road turn left. I have prepared a new beginning for you."

                                    "Will it be far off ? 
                    I am old. Alone. Except for You guiding me."   

                                         "Trust Me." 
 We set off down the path under a kaleidoscope sky, ablaze with a rainbow and golden clouds.

                                     
                 Once at the bottom of the hill and through the gate . . .

Copyright 1984 drawing and caption: Author  Monica Lawson   Only to be copied or shared with written permission by author.

                                     A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON MY WAY TO OLD
                                   Originally written October 13, 2014

I'm beginning the Winter of my life ....... but wait ....

Winter of my life would be

when I'm old OLD!

Perhaps I'm  just on the edge of Fall ...... .before Winter.

Spring and Summer have long passed me by.

Gone are the days of raising squabbling children crying in the back seat of the car that their sibling is "...thinking about touching me!!!" (one of my grandchildren's memorable quotes!)

Adding another potato to the pot to make it go further is but a distant memory. 

Canning and preserving food is delegated to the top shelf in my current pantry ... oh wait! I sold my canning collection to a young mother last summer.

In a flash ....grammar school ... high school ... weddings and military service ..... Our children were on their way.

College came for our four children after they were parents.

Weddings and dramas ..... new family member (still occurs through grandchildren's weddings) has settled nicely with all spouses in place in our lives (and ex spouses still in our hearts.)

THE MIDDLE YEARS

Anchored securely in God's Pocket, West Coast of Vancouver Island, Canada

Sunset La Paz harbor, Sea of Cortez, Baja Mexico

High sea adventures and quiet serene anchorages are memories stored in albums and  mementos gathering dust from long distant ports and vivid photos of dramatic sunsets in the Sea of Cortez.

And gathering food in the most unusual manner! No Safeway in the Sea of Cortez... but friendly Mexican fishermen willing to trade lobster.....LOBSTER!! ... for water we produced with our watermaker.

Beach gathering and tidal forays for clams and oysters with other yachties brought us meal after meal of free food to share at almost nightly potlucks aboard our cruising companion's humble to sumptuous yachts.

Hurricane disaster struck, shattering and destroying dreams of sailing off into the sunset. Our sailboat Quasar was safe through this horrific destruction.

"I ALWAYS WANTED TO BE

A COWBOY AND A SAILOR"

Original song title, Dean Lawson

Toward the waning years of our cruising adventure

Eldon and I were visiting family in the states and watching in a theater the movie

"Perfect Storm"

and at the moment the fishing vessel was stuck, bow pointed upwards at the massive

gargantuan wave about to crash over and obliterate

all aboard and the worthy vessel itself,

Eldon leaned over toward me in the hushed

movie theater and said,

"NOW would be a good time to visit

Lakeview and Paisley....."

Why Lakeview or Paisley?

(In our child raising years he had driven tanker trucks delivering gasoline to stations in Lakeview and Paisley and was taken by the quaint little towns in rural Oregon.

My thoughts at the time were .... "Yeah, sure..... 100 years from now ... but in the meantime .. we have little kids to raise." 100 years went by in a flash.)

....... always wanted to be a cowboy and a sailor .....

Check off "SAILOR"

onto "COWBOY" chapter

We did the sailor chapter from 1984 through 2002, selling our sailing vessel Quasar .... difficult last look at her as we pushed the final load of belongings down the dock and away from her bobbing gently at Marina De La Paz.

And onto Lakeview, Oregon,

10 acres of bare land - if you consider waist high sagebrush, bitter brush, scrub brush and trees.... Juniper and one lone Pine tree .... bare land. We found the perfect place for a home site on top of the hill overlooking the valley and Crane Mountain, and only one mile from a trout filled lake.

At the top of the hill were four giant Junipers ... ancient and sturdy (considered by some as weeds worthy of removal)

and we knew placing our home in the middle of the four giants was our way of

honoring our four children .... The tallest, promising shade in the summer, we named Vicki; across the field full and lovely we named Jill; beside 'her' and off away was Dean - strong but with limbs going off in all directions; and finally Neal... densely covered boughs with stout trunk .. strong and resilient.

.....................................

to be continued as we plant gardens, bring new animals into our life, laugh and love, play and stress .... future posts will highlight the joy of living in Lakeview Oregon... and further on to Goldendale WA.. as a widow. 

A conversation between two friends about                               

Trust . . .Hope .  Healing 

12/27/2019

Friend #1

I was just listening to a praise song ... about when God doesn't move the mountains we ask Him to move .. or waters we have to go through .. something like that ... and I related it to Vicki's death and asking for her healing.. the mountain. and the waters, our tears and grief. Any loss is grievous. But it's a journey - whether through mountains of accumulated treasures to be rid of or a body racked with pain waiting for death to release into God's arms.

an image flashed through my mind while thinking about this song ... asking "I will trust , I will trust ..I will trust in You." When I stop hoping in my ability to make something happen by praying fervently, or continuously or with great faith. but release the situation and begin trusting in Him.

I have times when the memory of Vicki's last days torment my mother's heart .. her suffering yet strength to encourage us she would be okay .... and after a year and half I'm still learning to Trust ... Him. Sighhhh .. I switched on Pandora radio to Christian selections and I can almost hear her singing ....I know her voice and her heart and the words that kept her from abandoning her faith right up to the end...

Phew .. I guess I just had to share this moment with someone .. and you are a tender heart who know about grief, loss, sadness .. and joy in the midst of those trials.

Okay .. on with my day. Blessings!

Friend #2

That song shattered me when i first heard it. Sometimes it is overwhelming thinking of the burden i have yet to carry in the near future. Then i think of the scripture that "the battle belongs to the Lord" and how He'll "never leave or forsake me" I fight to remember that every second of every day is just that. A second of time. A second where i have a choice to let go and trust Him. Your journey gives me courage to continue. The courage to take another step of letting go of both people and things and only embracing the Lord As all my "stuff" loses its importance in my life I'm finding that God is taking His rightful place as the only thing that i cant live without. And every day i find other situations to remind me of how powerless i truly am. Without His breath in me i would cease to exist. Without faith i would cease to try. Thank you for letting Him encourage and strengthen me through you. There have been times i was so completely covered in despair i was at a total standstill. Inch by inch i pulled my ostrich head out of the sand. Some    dsys i still dont like what i see and hide my head again. Some days i enjoy the sun, one day we will see paradise and nothing will matter. The Glory of the Lord will wash away every tear and pain. Until then i pray ministering angels surround us all

-----------------------------

I asked my  friend's permission to share our heart to heart on my blog. She said yes.  

-----------------------------

Happy New Year 2020

          
             HELP! I'VE FALLEN AND I CAN'T GET UP!
                                                Monica Lawson  12/23/19
 "Well now, let me help you little one," Master Gardener said lifting the tiny bird into the nest in the tree. "Momma Bird is mighty concerned about you. See. Here she comes. Nothing seems to be broken. You will be fine now."

 Once Master Gardener was sure Baby Bird safely flew off into the trees with Momma Bird, she set off down the path to collect her Whimsical Friends in the garden. They will be stored  in a safe place before the winter snow and frost covers the landscape in its cold embrace.

"I'm here," called out White Rabbit. "I'm ready for a long winter's nap in a cozy dry den. The flowers around  my summer-home stump are  fading and covered with frost."
Master Gardener picked up White Rabbit and carried him to a
bench under the porch.





"Why is this broken brick beside me under the bench?" White Rabbit asked.

"You will see . . . you will see,"
said Master Gardener.

Once again, Master Gardener walked along the garden path until she met Straw Angel. She picked up Straw Angel, carried her out of the garden and set her down to greet guests beside the door to here tiny house.  She fixed Straw Angel's left wing that was missing pieces of straw.
"I'll be fine now. Thank you," Straw Angel said.

Master Gardener tipped her hat and said, "You are most welcome.                  

A double rainbow arched across the Juniper trees surrounding the garden.
"I better hurry and collect the rest of my Whimsical Friends from the garden before the rainbows give way to frost and snow," she said glancing up into the sky.

"Thomas," called Little Girl at the Gate near the edge of the garden. "Do you think Master Gardener has forgotten about me?" 
 "Neowwwww," Thomas assured Little Girl at the Gate. "See. She's meowwwwandering this way nowwwww."

"Thank you, Thomas," Master Gardener said, lifting Little Girl at the Gate up off the stump. "That was very kind of you to let her know she hasn't been forgotten. No one is forgotten in my garden. I have the perfect place where you can wait for winter to pass."
Little Girl at the gate was shy . . . so shy she couldn't tell Master Gardener that she was very lonely sitting on the stump by herself all summer with nobody noticing she was there.
"I hope my winter place has others nearby . . . that would be lovely," she said quietly so not to be heard.

Halo Angel had fallen asleep and was dreaming about her lovely pot of summer flowers. She was startled when Master Gardener pulled her out of the ceramic pot. The flowers in her dream had now faded from last weeks first sprinkling of  snow.

            "Where are you taking me?" Halo Angel asked.

"You shall see," Master Gardener said cheerily."But first I will paint your lovely metal  wings to be rid of the rust caused  by summer rain showers." 

Master Gardener painted her  wings, halo and frame  a bright and beautiful shade of ebony. She placed an empty flower pot in

 Halo Angel's hands in expectation of new flowers next spring. 

"I am indeed a fine looking angel now,"  said Halo Angel. "Thank you for restoring me to my original beauty."  

 Master Gardener placed her on the porch 

beside the front door of her tiny home.

Master Gardener glanced around the garden to see who was remaining, or in need of repairs.

Fred and Frieda Frog, the bell keepers,

croaked insistently, "Ribbit," said Fred. "Ribbit indeed," Frieda
echoed. "RRRReverberrrrations and rinnnnnnngggingggg! Our earrrrrs are tingling and rrrrruined!" they insisted in unison. 
"I'm frightfully sorry. Please forgive me," Master Gardener pleaded. "I did not imagine the bell would ring so loudly, or that Whimsical Garden frog's ears were so sensitive. I'll not place you there next spring. Perhaps in a quiet place for the winter your ears will be good as new."

"Hello," cried out Little Girl at the Gate when she saw Fred and Frieda sitting on the lovely garden bench beside her. 
"Ribbit . .  . ribbit," which in frog language can mean anything a frog wants it to mean. Little Girl at the Gate knew they would be wonderful friends, all safely protected on the porch from storms.
                         Birds In Hand  . . . oh my, it is so sad.

Master Gardener noticed the blue hands were no longer sitting on the rock. The Birds In Hand had fallen, or been pushed off the rock and both little blue bird's tails were broken off. The Hands had carefully held them through spring showers and summer rain.
Master Gardener carried them inside her little home to see if there was anything she could do to repair them. 
 "Hello Turtle," she said, placing Birds In Hand next to Turtle who herself was recuperating from injuries from a fall in the garden. 
"What do . . . we have . . . here?" Turtle asked. 
Master Gardener explained to Turtle about the mishap Birds In Hand had experienced while gluing and pressing and holding and waiting for the glue to set the tail feathers where they once were.

"Little Blue Bird on the left is waiting patiently while the glue holds his tail feathers. I think he will be fine."
 "Yes . . . I can . . . see the . . . crack in . . . his .  .  . tail. It now  seems to be . . . perfectly attached," said Turtle in his charming slow speaking voice.

"Little Blue Bird on the right . . ." Master Gardener shook her head and looked sad. "See how the end feather is drooping and the glue is not sticking? And one small piece still to attach. Tsk, tsk, tsk." She tapped her finger on her cheek.

"Chirp, chirp! Chirp,chirp. I will be fine,"
said Little Blue Bird on the right."I will not be flying away very soon. The feathers I have will do very nicely."
"You have put your trust in me . . . and I will see you through,"
Master Gardener promised. She asked Turtle to watch over Birds in Hand as they healed while she went out to the Garden to see if any Whimsical Garden Friend had been forgotten.

 

There, all alone in the Garden, sat Buster Brown and his dog Tige.

 Master Gardener walked the paths leading to Buster Brown and Tige, and heard Buster Brown say, "Do you remember the old garden far, far away where we sat at the edge of a lovely pond full of goldfish. Master Gardener moved us from place to place - from the little wooden bridge to the rocks beside the waterfall. It was a wonderful place. Do you remember?" 
 Tige had never spoken, not that Buster Brown could tell. They were best of friends and now lived with Master Gardener in her new garden with many other Whimsical Friends. Master Gardener stood back to listen to the lovely tale Buster Brown was telling his dog Tige.
"You remember how we came to live with Master Gardener, don't you?" Not expecting an answer, Buster Brown continued. "She found us one day in a garbage dump where our previous human had thrown us out with other broken things. My leg had broken off and laid almost buried in the trash beside us. 
The day went by and other humans saw us, but looked away, or piled more discards near us. Another human stood nearby. She reached down and picked us up. When she saw my leg had broken off I expected her to toss us aside, breaking off more from my already broken body. This human held us close and picked up my leg. We were placed in the back seat of her car and brought to her home."
Master Gardener came and stood over them. She picked them up and carried them the short distance from the Garden to inside her tiny home. As they entered the house tragedy struck! Buster Brown's reattached leg broke off once more and fell to the floor.
"I'm so sorry Buster Brown!" Master Gardener cried out. "It seems your leg is in need of repair again. I've gotten very skilled at repairing broken Garden Friends. I fixed you once, I will do it again." And she did. 

                 Come next spring, when you visit her garden,

                  and you stand very still in the middle of the 
           Daisies and Sweet William, Poppies and Snap Dragons 
  you may hear Buster Brown reminding Tige about all of  the              adventures they've had over the years in the 
                             Master Gardener's Gardens.
For certain she will introduce you to her Whimsical Garden Friends

 repaired and restored by her loving heart and skilled hands.

"I see now how useful that broken brick will be," said White Rabbit. "It will hold Buster Brown's repaired leg in place until it is completely healed.
 And if you visit Master Gardener this winter and listen with a quiet heart you might hear Whimsical Garden Friends whispering under the porch covering, protected from the snow and ice, visiting and sharing about their 2019 spring and summer adventures in The Garden.
                        Merry Christmas and a Happy 2020 New Year from The Master Gardener

        ADVERTISERS BEWARE ..... I HAVE A DELETE BUTTON

I'm delighted that the advertisement scheme I've been attending to has finally come full circle. 
                              I see less ads for body function

               and undergarments to conceal unsightly body bulges.

and wigs for the  hair challenged elderly,






      

                             retirement homes, 

 last will and testament packages for senior citizens and life insurances plans for those of us closer to the pearly gates.
    DELETE   DELETE   DELETE   DELETE 
             I delete  the above ads showing up on my                     
                              FACEBOOK  page. 

I look forward to seeing more . . . more  . . . more, many more of these  . . . . . 

 I haven't been bothered with "Senior Citizen Meet and Date" advertisements.




 I'm sure I will delete them also            when or if they  show up.
     But...on the other hand ...

Mom's Turkey Gravy Recipe

                                                 
                                
                 A TRIBUTE TO MOM'S TURKEY GRAVY

                                   Once upon a time,
                    a Thanksgiving not too distant past.
                    Seems but a blink and another blink ago.
                                                                                                                                                                         

A half smoked cigarette teetering in the ashtray, but a moment earlier had been dangling from her lips. 

The small glass in her hand containing a tiddly, a beverage to enhance the moment gleefully anticipating.

Betty and Harold stepped in to administer carving expertise while the gravy bubbled on the stove in preparation of the most important ingredient.

Brothers hugged. 

Mom admonished, "Get out of my way! The gravy is about ready."

                  And serenaded .. she needed a little rest before adding the finishing touch to the gravy beginning to bubble on the stove.

 And sisters shared funny stories ...

Say CHEESE .... photo op to remember those we loved who no longer were with us.

                             The moment has arrived.

             OH NOOOO .. she DIDN'T!

Yep. She did.                     
             Although, the sound of cigarette ashes 
            meeting turkey gravy was inaudible ...

 

for this we have been forever grateful.

  
It could have been worse!





With heavy hearts ... heavy grateful hearts ... Mom's Ash Gravy recipe has slipped away into the recesses of "When myth met reality" because family members have all quit smoking. Thanksgiving 2019 will come and go without one pot of turkey gravy bubbling on the stove in gleeful anticipation of that final ingredient. And with many sad hearts that she's no longer here to finalize her famous Turkey Ash Gravy.

 Oh Oh Oh .. did I ever tell you about the Christmas card she sent one year? Well, that's another "Myth meets Reality" story of Mom shopping at Walmart in a motorized cart smoking a cigarette!