Hollow

Darling,

This house feels empty though there are three of us here. Hollow, although I know you will be home soon. Ridiculously too large, yet knowing College Girl will return in a whirlwind a month before summer, and College Son too, and someday with that special one, and later bringing fat babies, mouthy, active children, baggage, far too many shoes, bikes, pillows, cell phone chargers, cars, diapers, personal devises everywhere, making the misery of crowding divine.

But in the mean time, come home and use up some space with your giant you, feet tromping on the stair up to the door, shrieks of little scurrying hiders, hinges noisily do their job as here you are, parking size 13 shoes along the wall, a voice with only two volumes -off and on – belting out “Hummm, I wonder where my burritos are?  I’m hungry for a bean burrito!” More hidden squeals.. one from under the entry bench, across the room tiny legs hardly seen beneath hanging heavy coats.

When you are here, giant house doesn’t feel so empty. Hurry home then, will you, until once again I’m use to two beds, two chairs, two kids and all their giant collection of clothes and things and rare wonderful selves gone.  Gone to work hard at the job of filling the lonely, hollow, empty earth with good.

Yours in empty and in maximum occupancy,

                                                                                              Amelia

How Not To Be

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad old earth must borrow it’s mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air.
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a long and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain

                                          Solitude- by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. Galatians 6:2

Davis Family Reunion 013

Amelia

Along the Way

Frosty Barn 2013- wide

Tomorrow Christmas Vacation ends.  All Mr. Business goes back to school, Adored Husband goes back to work, College girl gathers her things for a return to dorm life.  Butterfly and I will be back at it again, driving, forever driving.  Breakfast, snack and sometimes even lunch from a car seat.  The never-ending drives from school to gas station, doctors’ office, to the Y, to Rite Aid, the dry cleaners, post office, the house for a few hours, and sometimes back in the car for All Mr. Business again. 

 

I love our drive, although it takes more time than the highway, but it’s back roads all the way.  Down the hill, round a few sharp turns, along a road that parallels a busy bike path, through back part of our small town, past soccer and cow fields, under a railroad tussle, past homes, sheep and fence lines.  Every morning the world peeks at me, looking far different than the morning before.   One morning it’s fog heavy and mystical.  Another lacy frost.  Mornings of green on ground, blue above.  Mornings of soft dancy show-off rain.  Mornings rain comes strong enough I barely see beyond the wipers.  Flooding across the moor deep enough to close our route to school.  Mornings behind some sluggish ole truck, driver reluctant to get where he’s a-go’n.  Mornings without a car in site. 

 

Butterfly, All Mr. Business, and Car Pool Pal chattering as we move along.  Or singing loudly to VegiTales sings the 80’s, or telling some knock-knock joke that makes me smile.  God and I silently chattering up our own storm.  We talk about today, about yesterday and tomorrow.  I take in comfort from our friendship.  God paints me a new picture every morning, just for the fun of it.  Taking in the radical change from the day before, I’m always surprised at the way new day art makes me feel. 

 

School boys are delivered to an institution of learning, Butterfly and I meander from school to Y, to needed stops, then back home.  I can either be a frazzled mess we live out of our car, or feel lucky I’m given such a view as the scenes I pass day after day, not one the same, and life all about.  Under every mundane task is hiding fulfillment beyond anything I’ve chased.  I’m Okay now for Christmas Vacation to end.  Off we go, down the hill, round a few sharp bends and beyond. 

 

Amelia

Does God Guide Misguiding?

Dark and raining hard, Adored Husband and I rush into Fredies to grab a few things. Way out of store, there in the shadows, a pale man with haggard eyes approaches us and quickly hands us a small book and is out of sight. Glancing down I see the title and know immediately what he had handed me. A book based on a false prophet, sensationalism, fear and lies. An idea that has caused so much pain to many generations. A world view that has not improved the world, but harmed it, one person and family and generation at a time.

Dodging puddles, bags situated, we settle in our seats. A thought forms slowly around what just happened. I wonder if God guided that man to give us this book so that one less is floating around, robbing yet one more person of a full, free, trusting life in Christ.

Might God guide misguiding?

Adored Husband and I talk for awhile. I think of Job.  Of even the Devil getting permission from God on what his limits are with perpetration towards people. Its heavy. Even painful, as the reality places responsibility on God. Yet God is Good, and Sovereign at the same time. He governs the affairs of men.

I ask God, seated there in the car, wipers one way, then the other, rain pounding harder than before, that I be a vessel of misguiding. That I be in the path of another tortured soul trying to do what they believe right, all the while strewing lies that harm. That I receive more and more of these articles of death and dispose of them properly.

Haggard eyes – I see them again in my heart. “God, he could be free. You directed this man to give his book of destruction to me. Please Lord Jesus, tug at this mans heart. Guide him to the truth. Guide him to you.”

“For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:30

Amelia

Family Food

My sister has a borscht recipe from an amazing Russian cook that she passed to me. Our grandma was Russian Jew (what is now Odessa, Ukraine).  As kids, we use to eat soup with Cottage Cheese in it because that’s that way my Dad ate it.  I remember our friends asking us how in the world we ever thought of eating cottage cheese in soup…. and now I know how we thought of it.

In Ukraine where Grandma was from, Borscht is eaten with sour cream – and is sometimes served with Syrnyky which are cottage cheese fritters. Grandma was a young child when she was orphaned, but her taste buds must have remembered good food:)  She did have some relatives she would visit later from the same place who most likely cooked this way as well.  It’s amazing how much of what we eat follows the family line.  The borscht I made has an amazing lot of vegetables in it for kids to enjoy, but our kids LOVE it and want me to make another pot today.  Here’s a picture of my Grandma  with my Grandpa.

0091-Joseph P Boyl & Naomi Boyl (Devorsef )-Probably Just Married in New York NY- About 1918

Here is the recipe.  Thank you Sis, for sharing it!!

Borscht

Get out any food processor you might have, and your Bullet if you use one.. and lots of pans.  Make a giant vegi-mess and have fun!  You will be rewarded:)

Potatoes (should fill up a 1/3 of the pot with potatoes) pealed and chopped

Cabbage (red) – 1 head – grate

Celery – 1 bunch – chop fine

Tomatoes – 2-4 – peel and chop

1 large can pealed, chopped tomatoes

Carrots – 3-4 large – grate or finely chop

Beet – 1-3 – grate

Green, Red or Yellow Pepper  1-3 – chop fine

Onion 1-2 – chop fine or grate

Green Onion- 1 bunch – chop

Dill- Fresh or dried – LOTS – chop fine

Italian Parsley -The entire bunch – chop fine

Garlic – 2-4 cloves – chop fine or whiz (I use my Bullet)

Bay Leaves – whole

Zergut Mild Ajvar – 1 TBS or so (is not required, I did not use, but is sold in Russian Market if you want to try it.)

Olive Oil for Sauteing

Salt

Peel, chop and cover with very salty water the potatoes in separate pan.  Cook on low – do not get to boil, and leave cooking until ready to add

Part of onion and all of beet saute in small fry pan with olive oil

Saute remaining onions in large fry pan with olive oil

When golden, add carrots, peppers and celery

After sauting awhile, add garlic, then fresh tomatoes and saute

Add already cooked beets/onions, the can of tomatoes. Saute

Then add cabbage and saute

Pour all (including potatoes) to large (I mean giant) soup pan

Add bay leaves, dill, Italian parsley and green onions.  Boil for 2 to 3 more min.s

(If you choose to add Zergut Mild Ajvar – do so)

Salt to taste.

Serve with sour cream – or cottage cheese:)  And heavy bread.. especially dark rye.

YUMMMMM….

Enjoy.

Amelia