56. the random Messy Beauty of everyday life

March 17, 2013January 20, 2016 / Apple Hill Cottage / 8 Comments

I bought a new photo app for my phone the other day for 99 cents. While playing around with Nofinder (just pushing buttons, in other words) this photo was the fourth one I took.
Random messy beauty

I was shocked. It was really just a shot from the back deck here at Apple Hill. None of the others looked like this at all, and I have no idea what I did or how it came out like this. It is totally random, and I’ll probably never be able to recreate the effect, but I love it! It’s messy; it’s beautiful; and it reminds me of a favorite quote from Madeleine L’Engle:

Inspiration usually comes during work, not before it.”

That is, don’t wait — just plunge right in;
that is, keep working — it will come;
that is, while you’re working — don’t forget to say thank you to the Creator who created you to create.

I’ve been thinking about beauty lately because the photos on my recent blog posts have not been beautiful. Yet there is a beauty in messes that only the person close to it, the creator, can see. We know what the mess is going to turn into… Ever made a cake? Flour, eggshells, sugar spilled all over the counter, dirty cups and measuring spoons all over? Yet the end result is a delicious dessert.

We’re moving everything out of the kitchen to get ready to lay the floor. I don’t even see this mess because I know it’s just a temporary inconvenience; but if anyone came to visit, they might think we’re applying to be on “Hoarders.” And, really, the entire cottage looks like this right now. There are no “Beautiful Photos” because there just aren’t any. And yet…

This coil of wire is probably not beautiful to you. But I look at that gorgeous roll of BX cable, and I see new wiring in a wonderfully rehabilitated, once dilapidated, old cottage. I see the cost of it, the hands that labored over it, and what it is replacing — old jumbled up, mouse-chewed, taped-together wires. Now see again with new eyes — Isn’t that a fantastic coil of shiny cable? And just look at this new installation…

NEW

vs. OLD

What a metaphor for everyday life, for God. Our creator knows and loves us regardless of the mess we are now, because he knows what we will be later: a perfectly created work of art; a delicious dessert; a beautiful house, perfectly wired.

I hope that thought gives you the hope that it gives me…

54. Dad, smiling

March 8, 2013July 9, 2014 / Apple Hill Cottage / 169 Comments

March 10, 2012.

one year ago, Dad, Granddad, Pops, Sam died at the long old age of 90.

there are bad memories of that time between when his body no longer worked and when his journey here ended.

they are fading with time.

and today i’m choosing to remember him smiling.

Dad in his plane

His plane wrecked in training. Unconscious for many hours, he was never allowed to fly and given a desk job during the war. Not until I read Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand did I realize what a common occurence it was; pilot trainees died in crashes all the time.

Dad rowing

Yes, he was known to mug for the camera, especially if the photographer was someone he loved. Mom is in the boat with him snapping the photos; there are several of these “rowing the boat” pictures. They must have had fun on Lake Wallenpaupack in the Poconos where they went for their honeymoon.

Dad and Mom on New Year's Eve

It was the early sixties and they went out on the town, color co-ordinated on New Year’s Eve.

Dad and his new golf club

Golf always made him smile. He had trophies. He taught his wife and his daughters how to play (or tried to…) and shot his age when he was 82, and 84, and 85 and… He played once the summer he was 89, but could only manage 3 holes. He said he didn’t want to live if he couldn’t play golf.

Dad at Christmas

Years have gone by, daughters raised up, and grandchildren made him smile (probably more than his daughters ever did). That’s the way of grandchildren…

Dad getting his hair done

Donna did everyone’s hair for Nancy and Ron’s wedding, including Dad’s. It had been a crazy, emotional weekend with Pa dying just the day before. Everyone was missing Mom as well, though Aunt Ruth stood in for her with grace and class. We were all ready to laugh and cry.

Yes, everyone is smiling here; especially Daniel in the background. And this picture still does the trick — makes me smile every time.

Dad and Ron Dad and his newest son-in-law enjoy the ferry to Ocracoke Island. He was always a traveler, and he could remember the name and route number of every road he’d ever traveled.

Dad, Aunt Ruth, and Uncle B

Sister Ruth could always make him smile. What a wonderful time we all had this weekend as the family gathered to celebrate life in the house where we all grew up. Grandchildren came for miles and we all took our favorite treasures before the house was sold. The last of many summer picnics on R.D.#5.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Yep, grandchildren always made him smile. Well…almost always. As long as they were using their dinner utensils correctly. The girls always knew how to use their forks and spoons; Casey and Daniel, not so much…

Carol and dad

…and he finally got to have his oldest daughter married in a church wedding.

Dad's 89th

Lots of us showed up for his 89th birthday party and had the weekend on the town in Pittsburgh — the Ducky tour, the Crab Shack, the inclines, Mt. Washington, Oakmont Bakery, and carrot cake.

Dad surrounded The whole clan surrounded Dad as we had a ninetieth birthday party for him over Labor Day weekend here at Apple Hill. Friends and relatives came long distances to celebrate his life.

Dad smiling

We picked this picture for his obituary, and one of his friends wrote us a note-to-make-us-cry saying how glad she was that we picked that photo. “You know,” she wrote, “he just had a wonderful smile, and I’ll always remember him smiling.”

and that’s what i’m remembering today… See ya later, alligator.

the regular Apple Hill Cottage posts will be back next week. This one just had to be written today…

51. Perfectionism, Part 2: the blessings

February 20, 2013July 9, 2014 / Apple Hill Cottage / 3 Comments

Last night I was reclining in bed, surrounded by pillows, books, notebooks, and reading glasses, writing a blog post on my IPhone. These phones are very handy when one has a thought and doesn’t want to lose it in the quagmire of daily living (or nightly dreaming). I was about to save the post when my finger accidentally hit the publish button.

…and where the update button usually is was the PUBLISH button!

There’s something very ironic (and humbling) about accidentally posting a post on perfectionism… It wasn’t ready. I hadn’t said it all yet. Hmmm…well, maybe I had, but I certainly hadn’t gone over it twenty three times to make sure it was as perfect as I could write it.

Hence, this Part 2 — more thoughts about perfectionism. But this time I’m thinking about the blessings of it — because God does require our best and our best can be a blessing, not only to those around us, but also to ourselves.

Artists and writers and musicians and craftsmen particularly know the struggle here. How does one know if the piece is finished and finished well? Madeline L’Engle says that inspiration usually comes as you are working, not before. So if one keeps working, one will continually be inspired. Perhaps when the inspiration stops, the piece is finished well?

That works for pieces of music or writing or art, but it doesn’t hold up so well for paint or wood or refinishing windows. The wood of those windows we refinished isn’t perfect. It’s old. It’s got dents and nail holes.

We all have our imperfection tolerance limits, and the more talent one has, the higher the limit. That’s as it should be. Mr. H.C., the contractor has higher expectations for his carpentry skills than I do for mine. (Ahem…maybe part of my frustration?)

Except…

God, the perfect one, should have absolutely no tolerance for our human imperfections; yet he does. Rather, he loves us for them. And no amount of our own striving can make us achieve that perfectionism that is God. He has given us that striving, made it part of us, so we would desire to be like him. In that way it is a blessing, his gift to us.

It only becomes bad when — dare I say it? — the devil (or the world, if you prefer) keeps whispering in our ears that we aren’t good enough or didn’t do it well enough. That’s when it becomes a curse.

And so I say, EMBRACE your perfectionism! It is a God-given gift. Just draw the line when you no longer see the blessing or feel the inspiration. And say the words that Jesus said, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.” (Matthew 16:23)

Window in need of repair