Remembering why I started this blog and Gluten-Free Blueberry Banana Bread Gluten-Free Blueberry Banana Bread* 1/3 cup canola oil 2/3 cup brown sugar 2 large eggs 1 teaspoonful vanilla extract 2 teaspoons baking powder 1 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon cardamom [nutmeg also works] 1 teaspoon xanthan gum 1/2 teaspoon salt 1 1/2 cups mashed ripe bananas (approximately 4, depending on the size) 1/2 cup fresh blueberries, washed and drained well [may use raisins] 1/2 cup finely chopped pecans or walnuts *From Scarborough Fair Bed and Breakfast Preheat oven to 350 degrees Grease 9X5 non-stick loaf pan. [may use 5X3 loaf pans] Cream together oil, sugar, eggs and vanilla in a large bowl. Add flour, xanthan gum, salt, baking powder to the egg mixture [I would probably sift the dry ingredients together first] alternating with bananas until smooth. Stir in nuts and raisins or blueberries. Transfer to pan(s). Bake for 60 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into loaf comes out clean. [Check smaller pans at 45 minutes] Wow! It has been so long since I posted. Part of the reason was there were some technological issues with posting but mostly, I have not felt so much like writing. That is not a bad thing. I began this blog to help me through some rough spots in my life. We all have them. Some are created by circumstances we cannot not control but most of the time it because of choices we cannot change. A few months ago, I decided this would be a good time to print this blog for those who might be amused by it or who might see a side of me that I often do not share. The only problem was, my computer crashed and I have had a very difficult time getting used to the newer computer I replaced it with. Some days I could only growl at it and walk away. I was really relieved to find out the programs of the new computer baffle others too. Since the last writing, my life has taken so many twists and turns. Most of them I had nothing to do with. I now have two great-grandchildren. Ashtyn is two and Landyn is going to be four months old in a few days. My youngest granddaughter took her first steps a few days ago and will be one next Sunday. I wish I could take credit for their cuteness but that was not something I could have even imagined much less controlled. This week my granddaughter graduated high school and she caught her first fish! Her journey is at a place that seems like it was just yesterday for me. Life seemed so perfect and the road ahead just seemed so laid out for me. It has been 43 years since I wore that white gown and tossed my tassel to the right to say "I made it!". My children all have wonderful and challenging stories to tell. I hope and they read the pages that capture a little of mine they will understand me a little better. ~ Life is good. Love, Nana Psalm 139:15 "When I was made in secret and skillfully wrought in the lowest part of the earth, Your eyes saw my substance being yet unformed. In your book that they all were written, the days fashioned for me when as yet... there were none of them". Nothing that has or ever will be part of my life comes to God as a surprise. I may not understand it but I know it is all part of His perfect plan for me.

Go to the tree then come back to me and apple butter

This blog is dedicated to my mom and to the heroes in my life that I call my children both of whom I am beginning to understand more these days.





Apple Butter

Canning, sewing and sharing stories were part of my relationship with my mom. I miss her even more these days as these things become more and more a thing of the past.

6 good size apples (about 4 lbs)
2 cups water (add cider vinegar to 2 cups water for more tart flavor)
1/2 cup sugar for each cup pulp (measure later)
2 t. cinnamon
1 t. cloves
1/2 t allspice
1 T grated lemon rind
2 T lemon juice from the lemon

Wash apple, remove the stems, peel and quarter them. Simmer in water until soft, pour off the water and mash to a pulp being sure to pour off any additional water.
Measure the pulp and add sugar accordingly. Add seasonings and cook slowly increasing temperature until the mixure is thick and boiling. Stir as the mixture comes to a boil then remove from the heat. Add the lemon rind and juice and cook two more minutes. Put into sterilized jars and seal

Makes about 4 pints.



Go to the tree then come back to me

When I was old enough to walk to school by myself I was about two blocks from school but I had to cross a busy street (with a cross guard of course). The summer before my mom wanted me to get used to walking the way I had to go so I would be confident. I loved to take my little sister, Mary, for a walk. She was three so mom would let me walk her two houses down from us where there was a big tree then I was to come back. Her plan was always to teach me to overcome fear of things that are new in life by learning about them a little at a time. Being the adventurous child that I was, once I started school and could go "past the tree" to the end of the block, I was very confident. Perhaps too confident. One morning my mom was busy in the kitchen and I decided that if I had her very carefully walk behind me, the crossing guard would not see my little sister and I could take her to school with me. Quietly, I dressed her and told her to stay right behind me and off we went. When we got to the tree she looked at me as if to say "time to go back" but I told her it would be fun to go to school. It was about that time I heard my mother call my name. She was not angry (and probably not surprised) with my decision. She just took Mary by the hand and led her back home and sent me on my way to the amusement of the crossing guard.

I remembered that in a dream last night and it was so wonderful to see my mom's face and the understanding she always had of my quirkiness. I know that God has the perfect plan for all of us and sometimes we get off the path and he gently has to bring us back to where we need to be.

When my children were small, I tried to teach them some of the lessons my mom tried to teach me. I had three small children and a very sick husband so sometimes I was very tired after sewing into the night to supplement our income. My oldest was in Head Start preschool and I had a two younger babies too. One morning after putting my son on the school bus, I fell back asleep. My daughter who was three decided she wanted to go to school. She took her brother who was about eighteen months with her and they walked the one block to the Jr High down the street from us. She had a good reason. She loved hearing the band practice and when she woke from her nap every day they miraculously were playing in the street in front of our house. She had no way of understanding that it was part of her schedule and something I could predict but she could not control. I'm not sure why I woke up or what made me go outside but my heart jumped into my throat when I saw her leading her baby brother toward the house on her way home. A neighbor was watching from her porch and told me what she saw. The two babies were patiently sitting on the steps of the school when she walked past. She thought I was with them and they had gotten out of my sight until she saw them walking home again a few minutes later. They had crossed a street going east then a second going north to get to the steps! Two times they could have been hit by a car... I was horrified but did not panic. (Those of you who know me are laughing at the thought of me being calm... so maybe I did panic a just a little.)

That day I taught my little ones to ride the trikes and big wheels to the large oak tree about halfway down the block and when they got to the crack in the sidewalk to come back to me. It was good to see them still be a little adventurous and still be safe. One day they were old enough to walk past that tree, then the block and eventually they took paths I never dreamed they would. They held each others hands for a while then they took the hands of others who shared their dreams because that is what heroes do. They are there in your life, they bring something wonderful to your adventure and they rescue from the fears you have inside. Then one day, they are off on their own adventure and they have to go far beyond the tree... because that's what heroes do.

Acts 28:26 "Hearing you will hear and shall not understand; seeing you will see and not percieve". Thank you, oh Lord as you open my eyes to the things I did not understand and want so much to today.

Love,
Nana

If Friday is Good... what is Saturday? Tomb biscuits

This blog is dedicated to my husband, David. When I have my Fridays, he is with me and when my Saturdays come he is never far away. I am so thankful for the day he came into my life.








Tomb Biscuits

One package of flaky canned biscuits
Large Marshmellows


Separate the layers of each biscuit as close to the middle of the biscuit as you can. Insert a large marshmellow and seal the edges. Bake as usual and serve hot.When the biscuit is opened, the marshmellow is gone leaving the impression of an empty tomb.

If Friday is Good... what is Saturday?

Yesterday our calendars had the words "Good Friday" in the section that signifies a holiday or special occasion. It is the day most of associate with the death of Jesus Christ and the last Friday before we celebrate His resurrection on Easter Sunday. I first wrote my thoughts on this subject April 2, 2010. There have been many Fridays in my life in the last two years and many, many Saturdays. This blog has been a place of healing for me because it gives me a chance to voice what I feel in my heart but find it so difficult to share. That is what Good Friday is to me and I suspect it was like that for the followers of Jesus so many years ago. The shock and trama that is going on around us is sometimes overwhelming and even when we know in our hearts the final outcome will be something wonderful, the Friday when it is all coming down around us, it is so hard to get through some things. At some point, our Sunday comes and there is great joy and rejoicing as the broken heart we could barely tollerate grows and expands within us. Tears of sorrow turn to tears of joy but that is Sunday... what about Saturday? The time between great confusion and joy requires tremendous courage and faith to get through the Saturday of pain.

This week I was honored to hear, in her own words, the remembrance of a mother and of her Good Friday seven years ago. She tells us how she got through her own Saturday. Amy writes "when I think of Good Friday, I think of seven years ago when Connor was born on Good Friday... I've always said Good Friday was good for the fact he came into this world but it turned out to be not so good when the doctors came in and said he had 24 hours to live. He was still struggling but then on Easter Sunday a miracle was performed in our baby boy!! He made a HUGE improvement and the doctors were shocked! At that time, his dad and I gave him the title of "Champ" and he will always be our "Champ". " The miracle of life. The greatest miracle of all but she had to pray and be strong through the Saturday before the miracle unfolded before her eyes.

Susan Boyle has a beautiful song on her collection "Someone to Watch Over Me". You really should check it out. The first time I heard it, I thought of the many times it applied to me on my Saturdays. Today, as I listen to it, I think of how it could have been written for the Saturday after Good Friday by any of those who saw our savior bleed and die before them.

You Have to Be There (by Abba)

What is it more that you want that I am not seeing?
What in my ignorant prayer am I failing to say?
Never before have I questioned the truth of your being.
Never once have I dared. Never once until today.

All of a tremble I stand at the edge of confusion.
Who is to save me if into the darkness I fall?
Now that I need more than ever my God to be near me,
do you hear when I call? Are you there after all.

You have to be there, you have to,
without you I'd drown in the deep.
And without you I am drifing on a dark and stormy sea.

You have to be there, you have to,
without you I'd drown in the deep...
too far, too far from land the waters drag me down,
I reach for your hand.

And when I die, who will open His arms to receive me?
Who will forgive me and take me to show me His face?
When I have gone to my rest, will you watch me and wake me?
When my time comes at last, will you grant me your grace?

I am so small on this earth.. I'm nothing without you.
Daring to doubt you at all is a knife in my heart.
Little by little I'm loosing my way in the shadows.
I am loosing my hold and the world falls apart.

You have to be there, you have to my life I have placed in thy keep and without you I am drifing on a dark and stormy sea. You have to be there you have to without you'd I'd drown in the deep. Too far, too far from land. The waters drag me down, I reach for your hand.

In my past blog entry on this subject, I spoke of a painful Friday and how we were going through our own Saturday as a family. We were waiting for the birth of a little girl after feeling the sadness when the baby before her was called back to heaven. Aveline is so full of joy. She is eighteen months old now and she sings songs we don't understand the words to and laughs at jokes we don't quite get. Over the past few weeks, her words have become easier to understand. This week, her mother recognized the tune she was singing to "dah saa ah weee meee MEEE"... Amazing Grace. I never thought of that as an Easter song but now that I think about it, to save a "wretch like me". I can't think of anything that actually describes our Saturdays better. We are lost and blind until Sunday comes and His face shines on us and we once more experience the miracle of Sunday. Have a blessed Easter. You are loved.

Luke 24:1 "Now on the first of the week, very early in the morning, they and certain other women with them came to the tomb bringing the spices which they had prepared. But they found the stone rolled away from the tomb". He has risen...he has risen indeed.

Love,
Nana

There's a mouse in the house and birthday cupcakes.

This blog is dedicated to Ashton who celebrates his first birthday today. My great-grandson is a handsome lad.








Birthday Cupcakes

One box of cake mix makes 36 cupcakes. That is all you need to know for this story besides don't forget to buy the birthday paper liners and candles. Kids may not mind if the frosting is thin or if they are vanilla instead of chocolate but don't forget those candles!

There's a mouse in the house

I saw a shiny new 50 gallon galvanized trash can the other day and the sight brought back a special memory for me. With most cities furnishing some sort of rubber container for homeowners to dump our trash in, we don't see the tall aluminum trash cans as often any more but in the early 70's a shiny trash can was a sure sign that you were a new homeowner, a newly wed couple or both. We were both. I was quite pregnant when we moved into our first home and even more aware of strange sounds in the night than usual. We went to bed after a long day working in our kitchen making the modifications we needed to in order for the washer and dryer to be delivered the next day. After we fell asleep I was awakened by a sound that was sort like a sonar "ping" you might hear on an old submarine movie. After hearing it several times, I woke up my husband to see what it was. He listened, it did not happen again so we both went back to sleep.

The next morning, we went into the kitchen to continue our work and I heard it again! This time, so did he. We listened again and the sound came again from the area near the basement steps. Jimmy did the "manly" thing of taking one step forward while with his hand motioning for me to take one step back. Who or what could possibly be in our basement? Just as he was ready to swing open the door, the "ping" came from the trash can! He carefully lifted the lid just as a tiny mouse jumped straight up from the bottom of the trash can. We both jumped about six feet backward as he put the lid back on the trash can. After we stopped laughing, he carried the trash can into the back yard and lifted the lid as he tilted the can so the next jump gave the little mouse freedom.

Time changes so many things. The strong become weak, the weak become strong in a different way. Silver replaces the dark hair of our youth but nothing can take away the memories in our hearts. Though love ones may pass even as babies are born, those tiny glimpses into the past are sometimes all we need to go on to the next part of our journey. I am abundantly blessed with so many beautiful moments and I am grateful.

Today baby Ashton is one. He lives far away from me but I am grateful for the time I got to spend with him and his parents two weeks ago. His mom is my honey-girl... Paige. My first grandchild and the joy of my heart. His dad is Brandon. He seems to be a fine young man who is totally in love with his family. I am sure he would be there to defend them also if there is ever a mouse in their house.

Luke 12:22 "do not worry about your life; what you will eat or your body what you will put on.. (33)a treasure in the heavens does not fail, where no thief approaches or moths destroys. For where you treasure is, there will your heart be also." My treasures are safe. His love is eternal. That's all I need to know.

Love,
Nana

Somebody is always watching and No Bake Cookies

This blog is just for fun because sometimes life should include a lighter side. It is humbly dedicated to a smile from the past. John, you never knew who was watching and may never know the lives you changed just by you being part of their day. I am so glad you were part of mine.





No Bake Cookies

Step 1: Mix together
2 cups sugar (substitute products will not work)
1/4 cup cocoa
1/2 cup milk
1/4 1b (1 stick) butter (margarine will work but butter is creamier)

Cook in saucepan on medium heat stirring constantly until it starts to boil. Remove from the heat and let cool one minute. (No cheating... wait for one minute)


Step 2: add
1 tsp. vanilla flavoring
a pinch of salt
1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
3 cups uncooked oatmeal (can be regular or quick but regular adsorbs better)

Stir this all up (tasting is okay), drop by spoonfuls onto wax paper and let cool.
Serve... make lots. They go fast at any party!

Somebody is always watching

If you look at my graph you will see people don't always project their true feelings. It may take a while, but eventually guys learn when they are told "everything is FINE", there is a good chance that they will be hearing later on a subject that is not "fine" at all. Why it can take ten, twenty or even more years for us to acknowledge the people who helped us through years that were not "fine" is beyond me. That has been happening over the past few months in my world. People who I thought did not even know who I WAS are in communication with me and remembering things I never thought was obvious. For that reason, I am taking a moment to acknowledge someone who was a spice in my kitchen. As any cook knows, it does not take a lot of one spice to make a world of difference in a dish. This was and is John.

John and I went to school together back before there were cell phones, IPods and there was still prayer in school and before each football game. It was "cool" to go to a pep rally or bonfire and the police did not have to be present to monitor if drugs were being sold. Yes, there were paved roads and a small percentage of the students had cars but any other semblance to today pretty much is gone. We were the ones who sat on the back row. It was not that we were shy, it was just that alphabetically we were near the end of the alphabet... well at least for him. I was shy but hey that was a long, long time ago. People turned around and looked at the back of the class because John had kind of magnetism that made everybody want to see what he would say or do next. He was not the "class clown". He was just a good guy that had a smile for everybody. For those of us watching, it was neat. That is something people forget. Somebody is always watching you and your actions or interaction with others may be all that they need to make it through a difficult time. John loved hats and he says he still does. With his hat and the smile he always wore, he would be in the principals office the first day if he were a high school student today. You are not supposed to be different and anybody who smiles that much should probably be tested for drugs! How sad it that? The very things that set us apart and give us individuality are looked down on. People are watching now but for different reasons. Not to capture a moment of the magic but to judge.

I am looking through my spices today to make sure I have everything I need for the weekend. This weekend has been set aside as the winter session of "Camp-Nana's-Got-You". Many (sadly not all) of my grandchildren will be here! We will make decorations and Christmas cookies and watch Christmas movies in sleeping bags with teddy bears and popcorn. Come Sunday, the parents will come to get them and you may have to bag up what is left of me to toss in a chair to rest but it will be worth it. None of my spices will have the name "John" on it but I can assure you, he will not be far from my thoughts. I recently learned that his battle with cancer has cost him his leg and downtime from the teaching he loves but I have been told, he plans to return to work as soon as his treatments will allow it. I picture his smiling face and him tipping his hat oblivious to the ones who are watching and are inspired. Welcome to my kitchen, John. You will be in my prayers. Thank you for the spice you brought to my life.

Psalm 25:1 To you, oh Lord, I lift up my soul. Oh my God... I trust in you.

Love,
Nana

Thanksgiving pies and finding the real you

This blog is dedicated to Sarah Foran who lived and loved life with all her heart and to all my children and grandchildren. I hope they all know how very much they are loved.




I usually start with a receipe then add a story. Today will be a combination and I warn you it is a little long but it has to be that way.

Today is Thanksgiving and I cheated. I bought pumpkin pie filling instead of making mine from scratch. If you have read my previous blogs, you know that I am recovering from heart surgery a few months ago. What you DON'T know is my husband was involved in an accident a few weeks ago and is now in a wheelchair. The craziness that surrounds our holidays is not so much this year but the celebration is still important, so I am using canned pumpkin and we are doing our shopping online. I would like to say the shopping will be in front of a nice fire in the fireplace but it is in the 70's so it will probably be at the kitchen table.

For those of you who have never made your pumpkin from scrach, here is how you do it and keep reading to find out why I am showing a squash instead of a pumpkin in my picture. It is Sarah's secret which I finally get to share with you all!

How to go from Jack-O-Lantern to a pie:

1. Scrape the seeds and attached strings out of your split pumpkin. Top to bottom instead of straight around the middle. (I have my reasons for top to bottom and you will see that in a bit). Don't throw those seeds away! You can roast them for a healthy treat and I will share that with you in a bit too. Be patient! You are in Nana's kitchen and this is a place to relax.

2. Heat the oven to 400ºF. Place the two halves cut side down in a baking dish and roast for about an hour or until very soft inside. Remove from the oven and let cool.

3. Scrape up all the flesh inside the pumpkin, leaving only an empty shell or rind behind. If there is a lot of thick flesh that is too hard to be scraped up, then the pumpkin needs to roast a little longer. Put back in for five minutes at a time.

4. Put all that scraped up pumpkin in a food processor or use a potato masher and puree (or mash) until smooth. Refrigerate immediately; this will last for a few days in the fridge or a couple months in the freezer, well-sealed. When you take it out to use it you will probably notice some water separation. Make sure to drain this water away before using it in a recipe.

The picture you see is of a Cushaw squash. It was Sarah's favorite squash to use in making a holiday pie. She still made pumpkin pie but this was her favorite and mine.It works perfectly fine when you have roasted pumpkin too but this is what I promise to fix for Christmas this year.

Cushaw Squash Pie

Preheat oven to 375 degrees

2 cups prepared squash puree
(the green striped gourd that grows in teardrop shape)
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cloves
3 eggs
1 teaspoonful vanilla flavoring
12 oz cream/evaporated milk

pastry for a single pie crust

Combine cushaw puree, brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger, salt, nutmeg and cloves in a bowl. Add eggs and vanilla and beat lightly to mix well. Stir in the milk slowly until smooth. Pour into the pie shell and bake on the bottom rack of the oven for 50-60 minutes. A toothpick, broom straw or knife will come out clean when it is done. Cool before serving. Great chilled or at room temperature.

Roasting the seeds:place seeds without strings (no need to wash them) on a greased cookie sheet. Sprinkle salt and roast at 375 until golden brown. You can bake them on the top rack while the pie bakes on the bottom!

Finding the real you

I read a story once about how we are like jack-o-lanterns. God picks us just as we are, He puts His hands on us and chooses us then He scoops out all the junk (seeds and strings) and puts a light in us for all to see. The problem I have with that is a jack-o-lantern does not last very long... perhaps a few days or even only a few hours. God did not mean for our light to only last a short time. Inside you is an amazing light and if you choose to hide it, you will be like a pumpkin still left on the vine. You will dry up and never really know what is it like to be part of a celebration. When God picks you, don't just let your light shine for a few days. Give love a lifetime to grow. No candles or batteries are needed. Just a willingness to love and forgive as we are loved and forgiven.

Isaiah 60:1 Arise, shine, for thy light is come and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you.

That is so much better than a jack-o-lantern! You are the real thing.

Love,
Nana

Planting seeds and raising kids

This is dedicated to all my children, grandchildren and my first great-grandson, Ashtyn. Hopefully the messages I leave you are a clear as this photo.






Lyrics: It was 19 Somethin'
Written by Chris Dubois and David Lee as performed by Mark Willis

"It was 1980 somethin'
In the world that I grew up in
Skating rinks and black Trans AMs
Big hair and parachute pants
Lookin back now I can see me
And oh man did I look cheesy
I wouldn't trade those day for nothin'
It was 1980 somethin."

Yesterday, I was going through my "important papers" box to find some documents Susan needed for enrollment in school. She needed her birth certificate, adoption papers and proof of her American citizenship because this is a Law Enforcement school and she will need a background check (it is a little difficult wrapping my mind around the fact that my youngest is now old enough to do these things). While I was putting together the documents she needed, I came across a large envelope marked "mom's treasures". I had to take a few moments to look at the letters my children wrote, the drawings they did and for a few moments, I was back in time just like the words to this song. There were a few photographs and, like the song said, there was some "cheese" involved. It made me take a long, hard look at myself as some memories of being a mom came into my mind. Some things, I might have done differently and some things I would do the same even though it might not be in agreement with my children then or now.

When our children are growing up they need balance in their life. Not just the right diet and trying to control the kind of movies or television shows they watch; they need the planting of seeds that will stay in their heart when nothing else in their world makes sense. My children were required to go to church with me until they graduated high school and they had to sit with me. After they graduated, it was their choice. Some continued with joy, some did not but the seeds were planted. Without exception, they found this to be unfair and old-fashioned but they did not get into trouble with the ones sitting on the back row for disrupting the church and sometimes they actually sang with the congregation. They might not have gotten a thing from the talk but I know sometimes a little slipped into their heart because it showed up later in their lives.

They need sports, dance, music and fun with friends. With all these things they need their parents to go with them instead of dropping them off. Yes, I was one of those embarrassing parents who actually went to baseball or soccer practice and some of my greatest evenings were sitting in the audience while my granddaughters danced not even knowing if I was there. I wrote letters that made them angry and the lectures of why "right is right and wrong is wrong" were also resented by all but every single one got them. They also got the last minute pants hemmed, the homework dropped off at school and the shoulder that sometimes could not make the hurt go away.

I was (and am) the meanest mom in the world. I think children should clean their own rooms after they are five, the household chores should be shared without payment and saying "yes sir" and "no sir" has a place in our society. When my children were small the laundry had to be folded before they went to play and when mom said to do something to ask "why?" was not even considered. When my children were small, they stood in a corner (they call it time out now except it usually is less severe than standing in a corner). I did not raise a single child that did not feel the sting of my hand on their bottom when their hearing was failing them. In this box, I found reminders of the days I had my children pull weeds in the back yard or they were given "community service" hours for not following some 'silly rule' I had. I should probably explain the "community service". I used that from 2000 to about 2003. My youngest were too old to spank and too young to be sent to the military so we got up early in the morning (only the ones in trouble) and we walked the perimeter of our neighborhood picking up trash. It was for an hour at a time and we did it for as many hours as they were "sentenced"... together. I never sent them alone and I worked as hard as they did. It was important for them to know their mom would never leave their side and there are consequences for their decisions. Afterward, we got home just as everyone was waking up and we had breakfast together. Moving forward was an important part of the balance. We had prayer at dinner together and "no" was a frequent answer to the things that "everybody else" was doing.

I have been a mom since I was nineteen and I am 'way old' now... at least I feel that way some days. I am not perfect by any means and there have been many lonely nights when I prayed and asked God to fill in the spots that I missed of their hearts. I asked for His forgiveness if I did anything that was wrong or not pleasing to Him because in the end, it will be Him that I answer to. I take that very seriously. Hearts and memories should be filled with the seeds of love and hope as part of this balancing act and I know the weeds of deception, doubt and fear are plentiful in this life. I can't protect my family from those seeds. There are far to many places in life that they exist but recently I have had the privilege of hearing the giggles of my grandchildren, read the writings of how proud my granddaughter is to be a mom and saw the excitement in my daughters eyes as she prepares to go into the world and make her mark. I have never seen a more beautiful garden and like the song says "I wouldn't trade those days for nothin'"

Hebrews 12:1 Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin that so easily ensnares us and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.

Love,

Nana