Month: October 2018

Electric Season

Energy resonates in the clear skies of the seasons changing to autumn.

October 31, 2018

Electric Season

It’s officially autumn.

To me, it never seems like autumn until the sky goes that gorgeous “sky blue,” gentle cooler breezes tousle our hair, and there is a crisp energizing feel in the air.

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During these days, I remember the exhilaration I felt as a child when they first approached.

Our first “autumn” day we’d race outside, full of a new form of energy that totally required an outdoor escape.  If there was a swingset in the yard, (sometimes just a rope with a stick at the bottom) we were trying to touch the sky with our feet!  On our bikes, (we called them horses, since we loved horses but never had a real one) we would ride round and round the house, singing Sunday School songs at the top of our lungs.  If I ever had to describe the feeling in one word, it would be “freedom.”

Today the gorgeous electric blue sky makes me think about how God arranges things in seasons in our lives.  Sometimes, when a new season comes, it brings the exhilaration of freedom.  I’ve felt it before and not understood why.

Life seems to say, “you are trapped more than before, why are you happy?”

But my heart answers with a song called “Happy” because one verse basically says: bring it on, I’m happy and nothing can change that!

I imagine myself telling life that sometimes.

Because I have my root of happiness in Jesus, His joy is my strength, and even if life wants to throw stuff at me and claim I’m worse off in this new season than I was before (usually it’s that I can’t see the positive just yet), I know God has me in His hands – and I choose to be filled with that freedom exhilaration that comes with this new season!

Whatever God has for us, I sense the excitement, and I choose to focus on joy!  Let this next season begin!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Dropping In

Lack of my technological connection device led to some deep thought… and a fun visit!

October 29, 2018

Dropping In

I think we’ve all become too preoccupied with technology in many ways.  It invades our lives and sometimes, rather than bringing us closer together (as it was originally meant to do) it appears to spread us farther apart.

Does anyone else remember being a kid and just dropping over to your friend’s house, knocking on the door and asking whatever adult came “may so-and-so come play?”  Today’s youth have their parents text or call said person.  (Or they call/text if they have a phone.)

We’ve lost the connectivity of just dropping in.

I ended up without my phone the other night (had given it to Becky because the house she was babysitting at didn’t have a land line) and wanted to go visit with a friend.

Heavens to Betsy!  I couldn’t text or call her!  (We don’t have a land line phone either – and it wouldn’t have helped me if we did as I saved her number in my phone!)

Could I just stop over?  Drop in?  Did people even do that?  Isn’t that considered rude?

While digesting these thoughts, I realized God was still nudging me to go visit (God had put her on my heart when I was on my way to work – and yes, with no phone) regardless of my lack of ability to warn her of our approach.  (Yes, we are like being descended upon by a flock of chattering geese; all six of us this time because Becky was babysitting and Louis was working.)

As I drove the few miles to her house, my mental debate continued:  I am the type of person who loves to visit with people – they can drop in any time I’m home as long as they don’t mind the almost constant state of dishevel in my home.  We live in it, and unless you catch it on Saturday in the first hour after deep cleaning or after 9pm on a regular night, my house will have sporadic hair on the floor from shedding people and pets, a few cups loitering on the table and counter, dishes in the sink, clean clothes either in a bucket or half-folded on the couch, books and art materials on the dining room table, and toys that aren’t always in the toy room.  But my family lives in my house.  So if you come unannounced, expect it to look lived-in.  If you show up on a planned visit, it will likely be “company clean” (aka, we just scurried around like frightened chipmunks to make it as presentable as possible considering the time of day).  I reasoned that I would just pop by before unloading everyone and if they were busy, if she was resting (she gets precious little sleep), or they weren’t up for company, we’d just deliver the job-related news and enjoy the drive back home.

She was excited we had come!  (Surprise!  I knew we were sisters!)  We unloaded and spent a few hours chatting, playing, and enjoying each others’ company.  We actually talked about this very thing.  She remembered people dropping by her parents’ home almost every day when she was growing up.  They would bring a pie or dish, join for lunch or supper, and enjoy a visit or the rest of the day together.

I dropped by on Grandma Jeanette at least once a week; I knew her schedule and knew she would enjoy the visit.

But with everyone else I’ve felt like everything has to be planned.  It feels impolite to just drop by and bring a gift or deliver some news in person rather than over the digital airwaves.

God knows our hearts.  He knew I would really go and knew my friend wanted some adult conversation (who am I kidding? so did I), it was part of His plan that we fellowship together and encourage each other.

We, as people, need that.

We, as Christians, need that.

We were not made to live in isolation.  Our overly busy world with unrealistic expectations tried to shove aside our human need for simple fellowship – time spent together without an agenda.  Just quality time invested in each other.  Dropping in and feeling comfortable in each others’ spaces.  This is when we do not judge each other by the state of one another’s home but choose to invest in the state of one another’s hearts.  Yes, most of my events with other people will still likely be planned, but I no longer feel restricted to just planned meetings!

I am so thankful for friends that are my sisters.  (Or sisters who are best friends!)  Those who I don’t feel obligated to race around and worry about what they will think of the shoes that didn’t make it to the shoe shelf or the train track loaded with every rolling vehicle we own running from the playroom down the hallway into the living room or the dishes that someone is currently washing.  I am thankful for the freedom to be me around them.  I love being real.  I love feeling accepted as me.  I enjoy learning from those around me.

Thank you, Jesus, for true friends!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Number Seven

Yes, ambiguious title and puzzle til the end of a long post…

October 24, 2018

Number Seven

Ambiguous title?  Yes.

Am I being cryptic on purpose?  Yes.

You are supposed to figure out the puzzle from the clues in this story.

(WARNING!  LONG STORY! – and it’s pretty deep because there’s a lot of feelings and thoughts smashed in here.)

Anyway, in April and May, I was in and out of clinics and the hospital because of a severe reaction to black mold.  (I know, crazy, right?)  I researched the medication I was to finish and every side effect possible happened to me (they always do, it’s just my weird, unique biology) so my hair fell out, hormone levels changed, pimples exploded over my face, and various other physical changes happened, I wasn’t watching for anything else.  It was a low period for me because it seemed my favorite parts of my body (long hair, my figure, health) was disappearing.  (Crazy reason to be depressed, isn’t it? After all, I was still alive!)  Although I kept telling myself this would work itself out, and I kept praying and believing God had control of this situation too (He has everything in His hands.), it was sometimes hard to face it without feeling sad.  Especially for me when I brushed my hair and it seemed there was more hair in the brush than stayed on my head.  (Of course, shedding hair means length disappears, so I went from semi-thick long hair that was below my waist to thin few-strands-to-the-middle-of-my-back.)  My hair was something that even as a child I was really proud of.  I’ve never cut it.  I always wanted to have long hair like Lady Godiva (ever seen the version where Maureen O’Hara plays Lady Godiva? I loved that movie because she was a strong, bold woman who loved her people.) and loved the Bible verse that says our “long hair is our covering.”  Plus, Louis likes my hair long. (Yes, after getting married, I thought it would take too much time to have to style short, plain hair so it was cool that my husband liked it long and straight.)

Being that I’m allergic to almost everything chemical (latex, cleaning fluids, pills, antibiotics, the inhaler I was prescribed!, etc.), we pretty much rely on natural family planning and some non-latex help.  Usually, I know my body well.  Part of the side-effects to one of the drugs was hormone imbalance which threw my body off where I wasn’t sure what it was doing.  Not considering it a good time for pregnancy, we decided to hold off on any potential baby-making.  Period.

Oh well, God laughed at that.

Certain things began to reverse during July.  My hair began to grow back (I have one-inch-long sticking-ups all over my head), my figure returned to normal, and other small things in my body seemed to reset.  I was very curious because although I’d been off the huge assortment of “we-don’t-know-what-this-is-but-treat-everything” drugs in the hospital for two months, everything I’d read about the steroid they’d given me was that it took twelve to eighteen months for the hormone imbalance to correct itself and I was still taking one occasionally to prevent asthma attacks.  What was turning my imbalance around?

Yep, God decided to reset my body himself; with a baby.

I love being pregnant, but worried that the drugs I’d been on had effected the child – then relaxed about as soon as I thought about it because if we were trying to keep it from happening (Starting in mid-April with the only 100% sure way), yet God said “haha, you thought you knew this stuff,” He obviously was in charge of baby’s health.

For the first time in my reproductive life, the only “date” I have can’t be.  I keep calendars that are honestly way too detailed, but those dates don’t match with the dates counting backwards.  (Every other time in my life I knew the day/night we came together to start our little blessing!)  Based on these “diary facts” as my girls call them, I can’t figure the time.  (What happened?  The little swimmers had to get through sheepskin & sit around inside of me for eight to ten days?  Really?  If I use the LMP date, that’s what had to happen because after that was nothing. Period.  I didn’t know hanging around inside was medically possible.)

Now, I’m totally enthusiastic about being pregnant (I am one of those crazy women who LOVE carrying life – every part of it); I just am amazed at the mystery of this baby.  I figured you know, I know what protection is, we use planning, and yeah, I get it, I’ve seen women on the pill, using protection, and even two who had their tubes tied get pregnant, so I know anything is possible.

I mean, philosophically we trust all to God’s hands, including family size and timing.  (Or say so, we were technically trying not to get pregnant with the whole breathing and health thing “at least until we moved to a mold-free house”)  But can you say surprised?  Yes.

So, “number seven” is this little precious life growing inside of me!  (Yes, I know most people, including many member of my family, think we are completely nuts, and maybe we are – but we are loving this adventure!)

New job, new baby, surprise!  God says!  Now I have an awesome job I can’t believe I really get to do and seriously get paid for (I love teaching children!) and a new little life growing inside that Lucas can’t wait to wrestle with (he comes and mashes on my belly, talks to “his baby,” and the baby responds by racing around, kicking, punching, whatever inside me).  I’m so excited… what does God have next?  A plot of land we can call our own and a trailer to stick on it or some plot with an old house that needs work – maybe?  Or are Kimberly’s dreams of building our own “movable house” accurate?  Okay, I’m totally open to the next step in this adventure!  (And, yes, I’m fine if that means, “rest, sit tight, you’re in pause mode right now.”)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

Awesome Job

God’s Timing is Perfect!

October 22, 2018

Awesome Job!

Louis and I operate a small business that pretty much shrunk from seventeen co-workers to one in the span of four months starting about two years ago.

Since just before then (I’m an analyst, I did see that we would shrink due to changing marketplace), I’ve been applying for various jobs all over in any industry I have experience for or my degree fits with.  I’ve been turning in applications for almost two and a half years.  Nothing.  That’s rather tough for my ego, but hey, I had a three-inch binder with book and article rejection letters that kept coming for fourteen years before my first book was traditionally published.  So I can say I’m used to rejection!  (Honestly, when it came every other job I walked into the business and three of the four was hired on the spot, the fourth I was called back that week – so it was a bit frustrating being well-qualified but not getting any offers.)

I answered an ad that I almost didn’t.  I knew the lady who owned the business, so I knew I would like working for her.  Although the ad was for a gymnastics school, it did say “no gym experience,” and when I arrived, I was asked if I liked working with children.  I LOVE teaching and working with children; I’ve taught and worked with children all my life – literally oldest sibling of 7, volunteered at schools, churches, and groups since they would let me (10), student taught, tutored, and I have 6 children.

The idea of teaching children a sport and getting paid for it is totally amazing!  I consider myself active, so a job where I’m working out a bit while teaching is perfect.

It’s really cool when God’s timing ends you at a place you know you’ll love being, a boss you know you’ll enjoy working for, and the schedule you’ll have really doesn’t mess with anything you already do!  (The girls’ college classes are during morning or early afternoon, we can still pick up Anastasia, it doesn’t change my ability to work early AM shuttle rides, it doesn’t interfere with the farm or schooling, and we can still  do weekend craft sale events and church!)

Bonus was that I didn’t have any workout pants, but the weekend before I started training, my brother and sister brought us bags of clothing and in them were three workout pants and socks!  So I didn’t need to spend money to start!

God’s timing is always perfect and sometimes what plops on your radar isn’t what you thought you would get, but it’s just perfect for you!  This job is almost too good to be true for me.  I’m going to get paid to teach children a fun  sport on a schedule that works with my family’s lifestory… Amazing!

I’m feeling so blessed and a bit awestruck.  Thank you, Jesus!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

Birthday Dolls

A childhood collection becomes a family tradition.

October 20, 2018

Birthday Dolls

Do you have something unique that you do and sometimes you laugh at yourself and think, “this is so silly!” but your family wouldn’t stop it because it means something to them?

For us, one of these “silly family traditions” that I accidently created is the Birthday Dolls.

We have a display of “Growing Up Girls” birthday dolls that represent each of the children’s ages.

Currently it looks like this:

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Christina (15), Rebeccah (13), Kimberly (11), Jaquline (8), Jillian (6), Lucas (3), and Anastasia (5).

It started with my collection of age-dolls from when an aunt and cousin bought the first three each of my first three birthdays.  I loved them and once I was old enough to make money babysitting and mowing grass, I started collecting the rest of the blonde ones.

Fast forward to when I have two young girls and we didn’t have much display space so Louis suggested I just leave a few out.  I left Christina and Rebeccah’s ages.  When Kimberly was born, we added the baby one.  This became a tradition from then on.

Through twenty-odd years many have broken (by little siblings and my children! Super glue is a porcelain doll’s best friend) a few shattered irreparably, and since my girls are mostly brunettes, any replacements we tried to find with brunette hair.  When Anastasia was about 2, she wanted to add her “age” to the dolls – so we added her age doll.  Lucas came along and I discovered the same company made “Growing Up Boys” age dolls so we started collecting those as well!

I always check resale and thrift shops for any ones I don’t have (right now, boys from 7 up).

Just a cute little story about how a collection became a family tradition. (Yes, they have already planned that I’ll have to buy more of those to display my grandchildren’s ages someday.)

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

First Dance Pictures!

My teenager and some pictures from her first dance!

October 18, 2018

First Dance Pictures!

I said I wouldn’t post pictures in my Facebook album… but I am going to put them in a blog! (Okay, so I’m one of those devious, literal word-means-exactly-what-I-say moms.) I’m happy for my little girl and proud of the woman she’s become. And, well, since my first “boy-taking-me-to-a-dance” was my wedding reception, I thought her first dance (homecoming at a friend’s school) was a big deal.

As previously mentioned (dress shopping blog), my eldest daughter isn’t much of a shopper. She had a dress in mind and set out to find it. She tried on one from my sister, Becca, and LOVED it (still likes it best) but learned black was the rival team’s color so of course, she just can’t wear black. So she decided on green.

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This was the result. (No, that’s not our truck)

We met her date’s family at a restaurant (they were going to eat before going to the dance) and the moms and aunt took pictures!

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^ (Jaquline called, “why can’t you get closer to each other?”)

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^ Becky got a bit of a smile.

I’m sure this was either his aunt or mom, (His family made the girls each a wrist corsage) but the next three are my favorites!

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Especially this one ^ – probably after they heard some tease.

After all the pictures were taken, just before she left for dinner, she makes Becky promise not to post them to Facebook – and I said, “we’re not posting anything to Facebook tonight.”

Becky rolled the window up and smirked, “mom, you’re going to post them in a blog, aren’t you?”

Kimberly and Jaquline laughed in the backseat and I heard one say, “that’s what Mom does to everything… write a blog about it.”

Yes, either I write it in a blog or hide it in a book somewhere! (Where else am I expected to glean inspiration?) My children know me well…

Thanks for reading!

Type at you later…

~Nancy Tart

Three Little Pig(let)s

Three big pigs and three little piglets! Raising our babies for joy!

October 12, 2018

Three Little Pigs

Today’s post is for complete cuteness! (pictures and a video)

We have three Guinea Pigs who are adults; Taylor, Toby, and Avery.

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We are raising the three little piglets; Rocky Road, Cheesecake, and Custard.

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Cheesecake is very unique (to us) because he looks like two different animals depending on what side you see! Notice:

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Yes!  Those pictures are both of the same little Guinea Piglet, Cheesecake!

Cheesecake and Custard go to their new mommy on Tuesday!  The girls are very excited and have been talking to these two little piglets about their new home.

Ready for a cute laugh?

This is how Guinea Pigs eat…

So adorable!

Soon our three little piglets will be in their new homes – we love raising baby animals to bring joy to others!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

 

 

Different Woods

How can splitting wood teach us about life?

October 10, 2018

Different Woods

Have you ever split wood?  As a child, I watched my Daddy split wood for a fireplace when we stayed at a cabin in the Smoky Mountains.  We camped all the time, so being in a cabin was a little different for us – we were actually going to spend that Christmas in an A-frame cabin with a big fireplace!  I was young, but remember being so excited.  We were praying for snow!

I’d helped chop wood a few times before this, but it was never splitting big round logs, it was always just cutting small roots or scrap wood from fallen trees discovered in the backyard so the scrap bits would fit in our firepit.  I’d always used this tiny ax. (Daddy called it a hatchet, and although he said “the Indians in Davy Crocket used weapons exactly like this,” we were warned NEVER to play with the hatchet.  We made “hatchets” out of wood to run around like Indians instead.)

At the cabin, Daddy was using the BIG ax, it had about a three foot handle, maybe four feet, with a weighted gleaming head.  Daddy would raise that ax up over his head, swing hard, and with a crash it would come down.  Most of the time, his blows would chop the round wood into three or four hunks.  Sometimes, the ax went thud and stuck.  Daddy would step on the wood, wiggle the ax, and go again.  Sometimes, the ax would take three of four cuts to split the wood.

My sisters, brother, and I were watching, fascinated at our Daddy’s strength, from what Mom considered a “safe distance” – I’m pretty sure we were inside watching through the window, but can’t be sure.  What I do remember, is what he said to us later.  It might have been a day or so later, but I remember the wood-splitting was fresh in my mind and we were sitting around the fireplace when he started talking.

“Did you see how it’s easy to cut one type of wood but harder to cut another?” Daddy asked.

We all nodded, my brother pointed out some “really tough woods” (oak).

“But I was using the same ax and I’m the same person, so it was about the same effort for each one,” Daddy said, “it’s the same with parenting.  God gave us each of you and you are all different in your own special ways.”  (The way he smiled at us when he said that made us look at each other and giggle.)

“We are the same parents, trying to use the same methods, but since each of you are different types of wood…” Here I’m sure someone yipped, “I’m this one!” (oak, of course) Daddy smiled but continued, “so we have to find different methods of teaching each of you so that in the end, we can tell God we’ve done our best.”

As I look at this memory, I realize that Daddy was probably encouraging my mom and himself (as we would have been about 8, 6, 4, 2, and almost here) and they were “early” in their own parenting journey.

This illustration of parenting is also an illustration of everything in life.  I’ve remembered this “different wood” lesson and applied it to most things in my life.  Teaching – each child is unique so it is understandable that they would each learn differently.  Friendship – each friend is different and  therefore has different likes and dislikes.  Parenting – YES, huge here, true.

Last Sunday, this memory was brought to the forefront because our pastor used chopping wood for his example of how we apply different metrics to each part of our lives.  If we judge ourselves by same metrics or measures when we strike a softwood (it shattered into perfect sticks) as when we are striking slightly petrified oak (crud, the ax stuck fast), we would be discouraged.  Just as we use different strokes and techniques when chopping different woods, we use different metrics or measures in evaluating ourselves in various areas of life.

Each area of life is unique, as we grow and change throughout our lives.  The measures we used ten years ago shouldn’t be the same measures we use today (we measure babies’ length in inches but adult height in feet).  We also should use different measures for different areas of our life.  For example: We may find challenges in using patience while trusting God is easy.  Just because patience is more of a challenge, doesn’t mean we are failing at being patient.

Thank you, God, for giving us easy examples to help us not judge ourselves too harshly.  Let us see our life progress through Your eyes.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

The King’s View

A very short story about the hawk that lives near our tiny farm. Enjoy!

October 8, 2018

The King’s View

(Today, enjoy a view of my “farm” from the eyes of “The King” – a large, beautiful hawk who lives in a nest in one of the pine trees in a neighbor’s property.)

Soaring over his domain, The King doesn’t think to look up; nothing flies higher than he.  The calls from his chicks in the nest remind him that this trip’s fare needs to be a feast.  The chicks are growing larger, hungrier, and bolder.  Soon his mate must shove them from the nest to go soar into their own territories, but today, he must hunt to fill their ever-growing bellies.

The sharp images below relayed by his eyes present a veritable feast of opportunity.  Tree-rats, overgrown frogs, and a few fat lizards sunning on the porches and driveways below all present easily caught but less than desired prey.

A cluster of rodents catch his eye, but he knows the hexagon-shaped glimmers mean they are protected by that horrid human invention called “chicken wire.”  Though he refers to it as “the shiny barrier” instead of “chicken wire.”  Six rodents are stretching in the afternoon sun, nocturnal in nature; they are fat, lazy, easy treats if it weren’t for that glimmering hexagon protection.

Cackles erupt from the wooden box under some shade trees – no, those chickens aren’t easy fare anymore.  They used to be.  He used to be able to outsmart the checkerboard rooster despite his three-inch spurs and heavy wings – he would get the younger chickens as they wandered away from the big rooster’s protection.  Now there were two long-spurred giants.  The checkerboard one was always outside chasing the wanderers back into the brush or waiting for a hawk to test his power.  The second was a giant red one – that one was missing a spur that had fatally wounded a previous hawk.  The King is wise enough not to attempt those chickens.  But he always looks.  If one wandered too far away or if that effective team was ever unwary…

No, today’s fare will have to be a few tree-rats.  The King settles his decision with a precision dive and catch.  He swoops in with amazing speed, executes his prey mercifully, and glides high on majestic wings to drop the prize in his anxious chicks’ nest.  He returns to gather another partial meal for his growing offspring.

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

The Exuberance of Life

“Look Mom!” and what else is Lucas excited about?

October 6, 2018

The Exuberance of Life

Today we had impromptu tennis.  Christina and Becky rode their bikes to the park, Louis, the younger children, and I drove.  It was a lovely day and since the “cooler than 90 degree” weather has them all excited, we have been outside most of the day.

Lucas was shouting songs in the backseat; periodically announcing “Stasia loves this one” or “Stasia said her Mommy has this!” or “this is one I like!” (Since Anastasia is not there to announce such things, Lucas must in her absence!)

We claim an open tennis court (okay, two, but that’s just because not all eight members of our team are great with their aim yet).  Lucas has his own special racket and claims every ball that hits the net – the inaccuracies of learning kept Lucas entertained for over an hour!

At home, we’re now enjoying outside.  Christina is texting the UCC team, Kimberly is running her scooter (kid powered), Jaquline is on her bike, and Jillian has a chicken – no, it’s a guinea pig.  Lucas is driving his “Green car” (a 2nd birthday gift from Grandma Joanne that has seen daily use except for one six-week stint while we waited for the replacement charger).

“Look, Mom, the pig-pig is driving!” Lucas has Custard contentedly chewing on grasses in his lap!  (Custard is one of the 4-week-old Guinea Pigs.)

A few moments later…

“Look, Mom!  The chicken is driving!” And Jillian is sitting next to Lucas with a different chicken (this one is the biggest of the young cockerels we have for sale) sitting on her lap.

A few moments later…

“Look out below!” followed by giggles.  Lucas is driving the car under a rain of pinecones Jillian tossed in the air.  He catches one in the empty passenger seat, laughs, picks it up, and throws in into the little tykes car (human-powered) as he passes it.

A second later…

“Mom!  A train!” And Lucas is pushing his car, in reverse, with the little tykes car centered behind it, rolling along like it is the engine of a two-unit train.

Then he tries to join Kimberly and Jaquline’s soccer game while driving the car!  “Kim!  My car wants to play!”

He jumped out of the car when Jillian and Kimberly started with the foam football… “I love football!”

We should have such energy and exuberance toward everything in life!  Lucas looks at everything as an adventure, challenge, or treat; as a gift.  Life is a gift.  Thank you, Jesus, for this amazing life and all the fun moments we experience in it!

Thanks for reading!

Type at you next time…

~Nancy Tart

 

 

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