Time for a Change

It is mid-September. On the prairie this means that farmers are preparing to bring in their crops, if they haven't already begun. They watch the weather closely, paying careful attention to frost warnings, listening to what others are saying about the weather, and being aware of what the weather is like in surrounding areas.

Autumn is a time of preparing on the prairie. Carnivorous mammals move closer towards towns; bird begin their slow process of flocking together; tiny mammals scurry about, gathering food and storing it away in "safe places," so safe, in fact, that they cannot even find it sometimes (sound like mom and I hiding Christmas presents :)

The words from Babe pound at my thick skull as I write this, "a thick fog covered the valley..." Yup. Sounds like home. Look outside... It's quite gray outside. But incredibly beautiful. The corn, upright and stout is reddish-gold at the tops, gradually turning green as your eyes travel to it's root. Our grape vines are rimmed with a reddish brown hue. Flowers are still blooming, but they parade warmer fall colors: reds, yellow, purples, magenta... and no orange this year. Sadly, I think all of our beautiful mums died off from neglect over the Summer... so sad!

But, despite the grievous death of Autumns prize and glory, our carpet of mums, the Fall season is a highly romantic season on the great plains. Because we're surrounded by local farmers, herds of cattle and ancient barns (some of which look as if they will topple over at any second... but, surprisingly, continue to stand strong year after year, despite the fierce winter months), living in the great rural sticks of the plains, my family get's the opportunity to enjoy the most natural elements of Autumn.

The weather is mostly ideal. Leveling out at an incredible mid sixty to seventy degree weather (occasionally reaching eighty on rare day). Sweaters are totally in, giving one opportunity to be fashionable and practical. Hats are an absolute must (who wants to run around in cold weather with your ears exposed? Unless you want an ear infection for the next month, I highly suggest a knit sock-hat! :), scarves are all the rage, and quite frankly, mittens are THE bomb! Especially when they're wool, fleece lined and you can convert them into gloves... *sigh...*

Artistic inspiration simply surrounds you. Honestly, any artist could easily find themselves drowning in the color, vivacity, exuberance, drama and designs of September and October, to about mid November (I refuse to write about THAT month until it hits.... brrrr.....)

t's quite enjoyable sitting here at the computer, listening to a mix of Kutless, Jars of Clay, Casting Crowns and Toby Mac, smelling the sweet incense of a "Pumpkin Spice" candle burning, snuggled in a nearly-over sized sweater, and socks, with hot coffee sitting beside me (yes, coffee. Tea is for that social-hour right before bed:)

I really love and adore the change in seasons, and find the beginning and end of them quite pleasurable. Fall and Summer hold within them the most joy, for me, throughout the entire season though...

Autumn is a beautiful season filled with an overwhelming amount of change and this year, for me, adjustment and preparation.

A matter of Intensity

"There have been times in my life when I felt bored and restless. It took a while, but eventually I discovered that the thing I was missing was intensity. Sometimes the swaddling of the comfort zone cloth begins to chafe a bit."
The black letters stand in a groups, forming crisp words against eh starch white monitor background.

A matter of intensity....
Boredom is a sickness that penetrates even the sturdiest of mind. It sinks in deep, and sometimes sucks you into it's mirey hole of quick-sand. Since I can remember, I have been, what my family calls, an "adrenaline junky."

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"Daaaad... hurry up!" The little white-blond headed girl did not know if she actually said the words, or just felt them strongly well up inside her little body.
Her quiet manner was not any indication for the surge of desire that she felt in that moment.
Clear, blue, lapping waves beckoned to her,

"I'm waiting!" They cried out from the five foot pool... "Waiting for you to splash into my cool, liquid arms..."

The little girl's father gave her the same lecture he'd given her many times in the past, before coming to the pool which sat behind their home in Fuller student housing.
The lecture would not, by any means, have been lengthy to any college student, however, to a three year old, the dad's words seemed to trail on into eternity...

"Now wait just a moment, sweetie. Remember, I need to blow up this floaty, and put it on you so you have both on. Then you can go into the pool."
The child's big blue eyes studied her father... the orange plastic which was the floaty met her daddies lips, and he blew... hissss... the floaty slowly, steadily, lazily began filling up.

Gentle waves crashing against the pools edges, filling the blondie's ears.

"Daaaad... hurry UP!" She thought again.
The aqua-blue crystal waters reflection could be seen in the girl's eyes, matching them...
"Dad is taking too long..."

With that last thought, the lengthy three-year-old felt her leg muscles working beneath her long torso... the hot Southern Californian air rushed past her, grabbing at her hair; dry sunshine reflected off her white hair and tanned body, as the little imp flew to the edge of the pool...

SPLASH!

One floaty on, one floaty off.
"KENDRA ELIZABETH!"

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"I'll count down from ten to one, and then you jump, okay?"
"Can't you count down from five?"
The blue-eyed girl looked up at the tall, scraggly young-man standing before her.

Uhh.... he looks middle-aged enough to be an older brother... I'll just look at him pitifully and see if he'll succumb to the pressure... She thought quietly.

The man raised an eyebrow, sizing the long, bean-pole of a child up.
"You sure you'll be OK?"
The eleven-year old gazed up into the mans eyes and nodded.
"You certain?" The young mans dark eye brows furrowed together appearing as one, long brow.
The girl nodded again...

All geared up, she stood at he edge of the two-story tower.The zip-line stretched before her looking so frail the girl wondered if it would snap when she reached the half-way point.
Asking the guide, the rough-man responded, "No. You go across it too fast. Besides, it's a cord, like the one's they use to build bridges."
He smiled good naturedly at the girl.

Standing at he very edge of the building, the blond headed child looked out across the vast mountainous range... Breathing deeply, she heard the guide holding the cord firmly, making sure everything was in order before flinging her into the great expanse of the earths atmosphere.
"Five..... four....." Excitement overran the girls' thoughts as she listened to the young man's deep voice counting down.
"Threeeee....... twoooooo........."

Leaping into the air, the eleven-year-old-blue-eyed child hugged her string which attached her harness to the zip line...
Extending her arms to her sides, she welcomed the cool mountainous air as it rushed past her in a flurry...

Free!

She thought to herself.
Not a sound escaped from her smiling lips.
Trees glided beneath her, a bird soared above her and mountain peeks surrounded her.


Little did she know, the next time she would go onto a zip-line, two years later, she would fly across the cord, upsi-down and backwards suspended on but one cord, over a cliff.

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This, my dear reader, gives you but a glimpse of my adrenaline pursuing past.
Passion, I believe is a gift, and curse, all rolled into one, which my wonder family cultures.
Apathy is an attitude scorned, or at least in the house-hold I live in. My opinions and ideas have always been very clear in my own mind.

My ideal would be to glide every weekend, along a mountain peek, canyon and crevasses, with but a pair of feathered wings. Mom and dad both joke with the other two young adults, in my family, that I'm an adrenalin junky.

Finding myself rather bored, I asked a group of mothers on The Well Trained Mind Forum( http://www.welltrainedmind.com/forums/showthread.php?t=149659 ) what their young adult children do for "fun," and what they did when they were my age for fun.

Most responded with excellent ideas:

Host a game night
Participate in historical reenactment
Volunteer
Go on a mission trip
Take a road trip
Mentor younger women...
Many, wonderful ideas!

As I read the replies to my question, the last reply jumped out at me (the the last one at the time). It beckoned me to pursue this mom's idea further...

"This seems to be matter of intensity..."

Intensity!

Intense feelings: feelings one has towards something or someone... this requires passion to be present.

Intense actions: actions that either bring healing or destruction to another human being, or an object.

Intense Words: These usually precede actions. Intense words arouse a great deal of emotion in the audience... such as hate, anger, fear, love, joy, courage...
There is almost never any middle ground when a person speaks with intense words. The apostle Paul and John the Beloved both are excellent examples of this. People, generally, either love or hate intense verbalists.

Intensity, all over, arouses a great deal of emotion in humanity. It also requires a cutting-edge lisfe style, such as Corrie Ten Boon ('The Hiding Place') and Mother Teresa ('Mother Teresa: In My Own Word). Both of these women I look up to in life!

Intensity requires absolute commitment.
Marriage is a good example of this, or so I have heard (although I have never experienced such commitment on such a level myself).
Rarely have I seen a marriage founded on apathy. Apparently, it's an intense relationship (although, like I said, I have never been married and so this is not a personal example, for me)

How can it not be?

You're vulnerable to the core of your being. Your humanity is exposed to the greatest extremity known to man. Your life is to be dedicated to one other fallen, sinning human being....
Intensity!!
The giving if your all!

Missionaries, I think we can all agree, live intense lives. Some live their life on the brink of death, for the sake of sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Intensity...
Something I seek with abandon, in life... which is, at this point, thoroughly lacking!


A matter of intensity.

Frosty the... Umm... Snow? Ice?

Some go-geous pictures of the beautiful frost throughout the week :)

God richly bless

and keep you and your family this week!

Longing for Spring

Moths playing hide and seek amongst some mintfront-porch Fusia

Frost-covered mums
Our blooming crab apple tree
right after spring shower

The major theme in a lot of blog posts that I have seen this week are Spring-based. Stinky for someone who still has a few weeks yet until winter is "over." Unfortunately we can still get blizzards through April, here in the great plains. I am so jealous of y'all who get to experience the wonderful fragrance of fresh blooms already! Can you send some of your spring-time over here please?

Because I've been pouting about not having any spring time here I figured I could at least fantasize about it and look at last years pictures of our wonderful spring blooms... but then I just couldn't help but share!

I hope y'all enjoy :)

Have a wonderful week and superb weekend!!

Scream in the Darkness

Miss Piggy this fall. She would watch out for the other three kittens. If one was behind the rest of the group, on a walk, she would sit down calling and waiting for them.

Mother hen hang'n on the saddle on our porch.

Baby Piggy. Cream - this litters mother - would change their hiding spot every other week. After they were about two weeks old we couldn't find them for a while. When I found the kittens (nestled under our thirties washing "machine" that decorates our yard) Miss Piggy (shown above) hissed at me. Even as a kitten she had a personality!

A skin crawling, air peeling scream pierced my ears. My eyes popped open, and then I realized a woman's scream had scared startled me so much that I jumped out of my old, yet cosy, bed. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled.

A woman's scream? In the middle of the night, on the prairie, the Sunday after Thanksgiving? Who would be out at this time of night?

After convincing myself it was "nothing" my eyes finally managed to close, and I dozed off. Morning greeted me with a chill, the sun with bright rays giving off no heat. My decision was made - time for some investigation regarding last nights scream.

Upon completing a talk with dad about the other night, realization finally, slowly, took a firm hold on me, and again the hairs on my neck rose as I thought about the blood-curdling "woman's" scream that had awakened me the night before.

A bob cat.. here!

My beautiful kitten, Miss Piggy, went missing Thanksgiving day. Her predator was what caused m entirety to tingle - a large, wild, screaming cat, threatening anyone outside, alone, at night, in our backyard.

This scream took my back to the book "Little House the Big Woods" when paw heard a "woman scream" and the panther leaped onto his horse. This scream in the darkness will forever make my skin crawl, and I will never be seen outside, after dusk, alone, again.