#*@!~ We are moving in May.  We don’t yet know where.  We don’t yet know when.  I’m fairly calm at the moment amidst the growing piles of boxes; this may change.

~ I sprained my right wrist and won’t be doing many things for awhile.  Since I’m right-handed, crocheting is one thing on hold.  Fortunately, Keziah’s baby blanket was already finished, and she approves the finished product.

If you’re interested in purchasing the pattern, the creator has it listed for sale here –

Dream Baby Blankie

But this isn’t to benefit me, the sales are going to Kelli and Shawn, and a friend named Lori from teenager-hood.  So I hauled everything out — displays, pricing materials, completed jewelry, completed crochet, and items that need to be finished.

I was gearing myself up to turn on some tunes and just focus and get it done, and perhaps fall into some enjoyment along the way.  Then the girl announced that there was no dog food.  How this has come to pass, when this potentiality was discussed in the preceding days, is beyond me.   Especially since Zander and I were away from home for six hours today, and visited multiple stores after a doctor’s visit, and he said nothing.

I love our puppies, but there’s not much with which to make them food tonight.  And, I have  more important uses for my energy right now.

Part of time spent away from home today was spent at the DMV, and Zander now has a Class D Driver’s License.  So I sent him to the store so the dogs wouldn’t starve, and I could continue working.

NOT.

I came to the computer to take my mind off Zander’s first trip without Kevin or I in the car.  I let Aislynn go with him because she has complete confidence in him and I thought he’d be more cautious than otherwise with her in the car. It’s only three miles one way, easy turns, then three miles back… it’s only six miles, it’s only six miles, it’s only six miles…

They were back soon, safe and sound.  The dogs are fed, and asleep at my feet.  I’ve spent the last twenty minutes typing to you, hoping for a burst of energy that hasn’t come.

Nevertheless, I must get busy, so please say a prayer for me.  And don’t be surprised if I edit this post tomorrow when I’m more coherent.

*Ivy is my grown turtle.

My grandma sent me this information on keeping berries from getting moldy quickly; source information is unknown –

When you get your berries home, prepare a mixture of one part vinegar (white or apple cider probably work best) and ten parts water.  Dump the berries into the mixture and swirl around. Drain, rinse if you want (though the mixture is so diluted you can’t taste the vinegar,) and pop in the fridge.  The vinegar kills any mold spores and other bacteria that might be on the surface of the fruit, and voila!  Raspberries will last a week or more, and strawberries go almost two weeks without getting moldy and soft.  So go forth and stock up on those pricey little gems, knowing they’ll stay fresh as long as it takes you to eat them.

I wrote this about 1.5 years after he died, and still feel exactly the same way – 

“Not a Day Goes By” by Lonestar isn’t a love song to me.  Part of the first verse applies… “Got a picture of you I carry in my heart” and “Got a memory of you I carry in my soul”… and none of the second verse — but I can’t hear this song without thinking of my brother.

“Not a day goes by, that I don’t think of you
After all this time you’re still with me, it’s true
Somehow you remain, locked so deep inside
… not a day goes by.”

A recurring regret is that I didn’t wrap my arms around him several times a day the last time I saw him, and tell him how much I loved him.

The last time I saw him was May 20, 2004.  He had visited us for five days.  The neighbor boy came over to play, and Aislynn pointed and said, “That’s Matthew.  He’s my mom’s sister.”  We had a great visit, with jokes and board games and good food and the kids enjoying their uncle.  But I felt badly and took a lot of naps that week, and I’ll forever bemoan that wasted time.

Kevin knew he was there to say goodbye.  He knew it was probably the last time I’d see my brother — he didn’t tell me. But it doesn’t seem that knowing it would’ve helped prepare me to hear that Matt committed suicide on Father’s Day weekend, just under a month later.  

I wrote a letter to my family during the worst week of my life-to-date, as we waited for the body to be found (it seems he left reverse instructions as to the place he was going, up in Texas hill country).  I haven’t been ready to share it publicly, though I thought about it for several years.  Posting this now both comforts me, and will serve to permanently store the letter here.  You’re welcome to ask questions by comment or email, it won’t bother me.

Dad and Mom,

I can’t fathom the pain of losing a living child (vs. one expected for a short while), under any circumstances, so I can’t be understanding enough — but you’ll have whatever empathy I can muster, while I try.

Ben,

It both grieved me and relieved me that you’ve had such a heavy load on your heart and mind this week.  Thank you for the determination and fortitude you’ve shown throughout; Matt couldn’t have been blessed with a better brother, while living or at the end.  And I couldn’t be more pleased and grateful that you’re mine.

Martha,

I’m glad you and Ben were together yesterday morning; perhaps that made it more endurable for you both.  I regret that you had to be searching at all, but thank you for your persistent endeavors.  You can’t know the comfort it was to me that you were out there, while I couldn’t do anything to assist but pray you’d find him quickly.  This isn’t adequately expressing my feelings, but perhaps I’ll come up with something better later on.

Rachael and Nathan,

I don’t know what path your thoughts and feelings are taking right now, but know that you’re in my thoughts and tears and prayers.

Everybody, 

About 3 am Sunday morning, I was dozing and turning and trying to get my back to cooperate with my need for sleep.  I had a sense of foreboding, but my thoughts along that line ran towards Jim and Grandad.  Obviously, I wouldn’t succeed as a psychic…

You cannot know the depth of my love for the little brother who could be so exasperating as a child, but was usually amusing, creative, loving and generous.  Thirty years ago, Daddy and Nanny took me to the hospital, where I climbed up on a little footstool so I could see through the nursery window.  The green and white gingham bundle with dark hair that I viewed that day, was the only sibling who was ever just mine  — the rest of you were “ours” and we were corporately “yours.”  (Although I do take some credit for helping to pray Martha into existence.  I guess you should be glad that when I prayed for a horse, we got just one at the time.  I asked for a sister and got two.  I asked for a son and got two.)

Then over the past three or four years, he became more a part of my life than he had been for a very long time.  It was a pleasant surprise to learn that Matt grew up to be my friend; so I sort of feel like I’ve lost two people instead of one.

You should know, and Ben can verify, that Matt didn’t die in a fit of despair, though he certainly had very despairing days.  He isn’t gone because he felt completely useless, but because he wanted to go before he was dependent on others and useless/worrisome for his children.  He didn’t plan his final days because of sheer hopelessness, but because he realistically weighed his growing physical problems and life options, and decided it wasn’t going to get better before it got even worse.  Though planned through depression, this was a carefully considered event, not just “a suicide.”

I don’t think I would’ve made the same choice, but I can’t say that with certainty, having never experienced his depth of physical, emotional and spiritual pain.  What I can say is that God created Matt with a free will, knowing full well that Matt was going to make choices contrary to His will — even to deciding to exit this life on his own terms, rather than waiting for a Sovereign summons.  I find it comforting that part of the plan was going into some country he loved, and watching the sunrise (which he didn’t willingly view often), and breathing in some crisp, cool air during his final thoughts.

Once in a great while, Celeste has a vision.  Thus, we were told Aislynn was coming several months before she was actually on the way, just as one example.  This morning while Celeste was crying and praying, she saw Matt with Jesus (she’d both met him and seen pictures), and Jesus was saying something to the effect of “you’ll have no more pain, you can rest now.”  (I have told her that if she starts seeing things in tortillas, I’ll have to stop believing.)  

This was comforting to me, as well as quick specific answers to prayers this week, and messages from God through loving people and other channels.  But that stuff can wait, for interested parties, and perhaps now I can sleep some more.

I love you,

:~)

I LOVE flowers, and budding new green growth.  Often during this season, I think of my Nanny.  When I visited her (and for awhile when I lived with her), we tended her tomato plants, grape vines, and peach trees together.  She once told me that her favorite hymn was “In the Garden,” which is dear to me and the tune and lyrics remind me of her.  I can picture her in a heavenly garden, conversing with her Savior.  I was considering this song one day…

“I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses,

And the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses.

Refrain: And He walks with me, and He talks with me

And He tells me I am His own;

And the joy we share as we tarry there,

None other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of His voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing

And the melody that He gave to me within my heart is ringing.

Refrain

I’d stay in the garden with Him, though the night around me be falling,

But He bids me go; through the voice of woe His voice to me is calling.” ~Charles A. Miles, 1913

How appropriate to envision meeting with the Lord in a garden.  It seems that He would consider it a perfect setting. He lovingly designed thousands of varieties of flowering and multi-colored plant life for us to enjoy.

It would be a lovely remembrance, if the sight of roses or hydrangeas made you long to sit in His presence.  If the scent of gardenias or lilacs brings to mind a moment of revelation… what a nice gift from Him!

Consider, even, a vegetable garden with it’s bright colors and the aromas of earth and thriving plants.  Gathering the fruits of labor while raising thoughts of gratitude to the Creator would be a wonderful instance of providing for both your physical and spiritual appetites.

I wish you a happy Spring-time, and some contemplative gardening moments,

The new position is with a company in Boston, but Kevin will be based from home/Atlanta and will travel up to 75% of the time (mainly along the Atlantic coast). We still don’t know how his travel weeks vs. home time will look, but it will be nice if he is no longer working 75-100 hours per week.  Additionally, he’ll fund his traveling expenses with a corporate card, so we’ll no longer have a largely fluctuating bank balance in that regard.  It will be nice to make a budget to live with and start saving for adoption expenses.

One other benefit to this new job — I can travel, too. Only when I wish, and when it’s convenient, and when it’s a location I’d like to visit, of course!  This will be a very nice option when Kevin has been traveling a lot and then busy for the few days at home between trips, so we can spend more time together.  

Zander will shortly have his driver’s license, and then he’ll be left in charge while I’m away on short trips.  I asked him how he felt about raising his siblings in case something happens to both parents.  He said, “They’d be toast.”  I didn’t inquire as to his exact meaning, but I’m guessing he’d be very strict with them long-term.  (If you are wondering… Zander is 17.5, Brendon will be 15 this month, Aislynn is 12.5, and we have some great neighbors, as well as friends who only live a few minutes away in multiple directions.  If anything, Z might feel there are too many people keeping an eye on them.)

Speaking of mein offspring… Aislynn has multiple lists of things I shouldn’t do, and where I shouldn’t do them. To be fair, this tendency has much to do with general helpfulness and her nurturing tendencies, rather than only adolescent exasperation with an embarrassing parent.  Her newest thing is moving my shopping cart and reprimanding me for the previous location. It seems I may be a danger to others, if not yet to myself.

This is the lap-ghan I crocheted for my grandmother.  (I had a Mema long before Sheldon Cooper did.)  It’s a very late Christmas gift, but she isn’t expecting it so it will be a Spring Surprise!

I wish you a wonderful weekend,

7 lbs skinless/boneless chicken breasts
1 large cucumber, peeled and pureed
1/2 green onions, finely chopped (one bunch)
2 pkgs Ranch Dressing powdered mix
1/2 cup sour cream (plain yogurt can be used for a lower-fat version)
1 1/2 cups olive oil mayonnaise with cracked pepper
1 tsp freshly ground pepper
2 tsp sea salt

Bake or slow-cook the chicken, then shred.  Add all the other ingredients, then you can add more seasonings according to taste.  If you want a chunky salad instead of a smooth version, add any combination of grapes, nuts, cherries, dried cranberries, water chestnuts, celery, etc.

Please keep in mind that I said it was Easy.  I didn’t say it was Quick. 

I must thank my sister-in-law, Paige, as she gave me a marvelous reason to start a new crochet project.  ♥♥♥! Keziah Rae Mossman was born on March 8, and Kevin and I are happy to have her as our 15th nibling/8th niece.  She’s a healthy eight-pound little beauty.  Her name is Hebrew, meaning “cassia/sweet-scented spice.”  Isn’t that lovely?! 

I have been valiantly finishing crochet projects, resisting the urge to begin more.  This little bit of self-discipline is much harder than I thought it would be.  I even unraveled some things to re-do them slightly differently.  I was feeling kind of panicky.  

With the news of Keziah’s arrival, I bought some beautiful, soft new yarn yesterday, preparing to make her a baby afghan.  I started looking through some pattern ideas. Surely none of my selves can argue this isn’t a perfectly acceptable exemption to my earlier resolve!

Then, today, I received an update from the SmoothFox Crochet and Knit blog, inviting testers for a new baby blanket pattern.  I’ve been accepted as a tester; I haven’t yet decided on my colors, but they’ll be at least slightly different than those shown here.

Photo © 2012 Donna Mason-Svara, SmoothFox Original Design

I recently tested a beautiful SmoothFox ripple afghan pattern.  My completed version is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever crocheted.  It’s for me, no giving away this time.

]]> http://ktmossman.com/tryinglesstrustingmore/?feed=rss2&p=1007 0 http://ktmossman.com/tryinglesstrustingmore/?p=985 http://ktmossman.com/tryinglesstrustingmore/?p=985#comments Sat, 03 Mar 2012 19:34:38 +0000 Tammi http://ktmossman.com/tryinglesstrustingmore/?p=985

I’ve been thinking about how the Spring season can lift spirits, improve moods, reaffirm faith and inspire creativity.  

But sometimes,  life struggles make it difficult to appreciate budding new life and warmer temperatures.  What if you can’t feel joy in hearing about the “springtime” in someone’s life… the blessings others have been given?  Perhaps you have praised, prayed, slept, taken your vitamins and/or medication, eaten and done other things the  ”right way” — and during it all, your hope dwindles and a fight against despair daily drains all your energies.  It might seem that the scenery in your soul will forever be a bleak, colorless winter wasteland.

I don’t suffer from chronic depression, but I’ve had struggles with the beast in many forms.  From the past two years, it seems our family is emerging into lots of sunshine in a beautiful field of flowers… leaving behind a bumpy road.  We traveled that path through a valley that often had a ray or two of light, along with much peace, but was still dark and dank in places.  It was by no means our worst life experience, but there were many moments when Discouragement hovered overhead.

I’m loving this new scenario for our whole family. However, I’m dealing with an increase in chronic health issues;  I miss my husband; many people are unreasonable, illogical and unkind, and I want to stay home and not deal with them… There are days when I know that my body isn’t being completely honest with my feelings, and the Evil One loves to jump into a weak moment and point out negativity everywhere. My circumstances aren’t dire, as he would have me believe.  In all things, the Lord’s strength can be made perfect in my weakness.

Visuals help distract me from pain — physical or mental.  I can focus on something bright, funny, or meaningful to take my attention from myself and put it on God’s wonderful creation, on the good news in a friend’s life, etc.  The other night when I couldn’t sleep, I was looking through pictures taken by my friend, Bonnie.  When I reached this one, I thought about it for a long time.

Photo © 2011, Bonnie Gathany

We can see the road we want to travel, up ahead.  It doesn’t seem far away, but first we must climb the fence and traverse the field.

There might be snakes.  There might be a hole to step in, and thus twist an ankle — making the rest of the journey a hobble, rather than a walk.  On the other side, there may be no way to reach the road without a significant detour. We have no idea what awaits us, on this supposedly simple trek.

When we do arrive at the road, we can rest for a moment, and think of our past journey.  Our Guide may have led us through some questionable terrain, but we did not misplace our trust in Him.  Now we can see a lovely, straight path to travel… and, we know that we can have faith on any stretches of rough road around the bend.

I purchased a new 6 Quart Crock Pot, and the first thing I did was make all this soup (plus the three bowls that were already consumed).

Triple conjunction in the night sky — photo of Jupiter, the moon and Venus, taken Sunday evening, 2/26/2012.

After my crochet resolutions, this was the first project I finished — my mother-in-law’s very late Christmas gift.  The butterflies are a Spoontiques tri-color pewter brooch.