Janet's Blog

Meagan texted me a couple of weeks ago, wondering if I would like to come out to celebrate National Cheesecake Day. I never say no to cheesecake, so I headed right out. I'm not a huge fan of baked cheesecake, since I generally prefer the light, fluffy rendition like Bill's Grandma used to make, but Meagan had found a new recipe, and tried out the springform pan she inherited from Aunt Ellen.  The cheescake didn't last long. It was absolutely delicious! The grandkids were thrilled to have all available grandparents on site when it wasn't even someone's birthday. They had been excited to start homeschooling that Monday, but they still had plenty of time to play with the kittens and create things. They had so much to show us! The kittens had grown, and were at the cutest stage ever. The two mama cats had produced litters in June, about ten days apart, one on Meagan's birthday, and the other the night before Ari turned three. Surprisingly, the gray kittens in the se...

Ah--the joys of walking the dog in the summer. Neither of us need a jacket or boots when the air is balmy and the sidewalks are clear of snow. Evening walks are the best, when the cool breeze blows away the heat of the day, and the only sounds are the train in the distance, and a few cars on the highway. Hah! And the neighborhood dogs barking every time we walk past, and the car stereos blaring, and the kids yelling to each other as they play on the sidewalks. But, I love it all, anyway, and Jackson does, too. For nearly a month, we got to share our walks with the "granddogs," Bowie and Bella. Bowie is a black Pugapoo, and Bella is some kind of Beagle mix. They both just finished a couple of weeks of intensive training in Wisconsin, with the dog trainer who lives across the street from Erin, Reed, and Will. Bowie, who received a little extra training, was on his best behavior most of the time, walking sedately, rarely tugging on the leash or attempting to chase any bunnies or...

I made the 400 mile drive from Fairbury on Thursday without incident, my trusty iphone plugged in, providing the GPS guidance I needed to stay on track. But then, after I arrived back home that evening, my cell phone abruptly stopped working. As I plugged it in to recharge it, it suddenly got stuck in a loop, cycling between the white screen with the apple in the middle, and a black screen. Eventually, it just settled on the white screen. I've been told it's a common problem with iphones. So now I'm singing the no-cell-phone blues. For such a little thing, my phone certainly occupies a lot of my time. Like most people, I use it for so many things besides just talk and text: it's my alarm clock and ever-ready camera, my GPS, weather forecaster, reference guide, phonebook, and cookbook, my source for daily news and social media. I use the Gateway Bible app every day. In fact, since my eye surgeries, I find I can avoid a significant amount of eyestrain when I read almost e...

A Gideon gave a short presentation at church on Sunday. That's not unusual. Every church I've ever attended has welcomed representatives from The Gideons International at least once a year. The Gideons International began in 1908 as an association of Christian businessmen who began placing Bibles in hotel rooms. Their outreach expanded from there, providing billions of Bibles, in more than 100 languages, to school children, nurses, prisoners, members of the military, and other people all over the world, in almost every facet of life. For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.   Hebrews 4:12 I remember receiving a maroon Gideon New Testament when I was a fifth grader. All of my children came home from school with Gideon New Testaments, as well. When Bill and I visited India, I was pleased, but not surprised, to find an English l...

Monday afternoon, as I walked into the house from the garage, Levi met me at the door. "I have a late Mother's Day present for you," he said. I wondered if he had brought me something he had baked at school in his Foods class. I didn't have to wonder for long. I followed him into the kitchen, where he pointed to the flowers on the table. He had picked two flowering crabapple sprigs from the trees that surround his school, just a short block from our house, and had carefully placed them in a small vase of water. Levi has always had a knack for picking just the right gift for each person. He is invariably thoughtful, and careful to choose something that he knows his intended recipient will appreciate. As we were riding in the car last week, I had pointed out the gorgeous crabapple trees lining the street, and I commented that my dad had often scouted out the abandoned farmsteads surrounding the town, so he could bring armloads of crabapple and lilac branches for my mom ...

My family has always been a feather pillow family. As long as I can remember, my maternal grandma kept everyone well-supplied with pillows. I'm sure she cleaned old pillows and recycled the feathers into new ticking from time to time. Or, maybe, like Bill's grandma, she took her old pillows to the dry cleaners to be cleaned and reticked. Some of her pillows contained fresh feathers or goose down, obtained from a local, northeastern Nebraska farmer, because she did not raise any kind of feather- or down-producing fowl herself. When I was visiting Mom and Dad last week, I had a chance to go through some old suitcases filled with century-old, family photographs. I enjoyed seeing photos of my mom and grandparents as young children, as well as vintage photos of some great-grandparents I never knew. One photo stood out. At the turn of the twentieth century, when photography was still in its infancy, it was common for rural Nebraska families to be photographed outside their homes, wit...

I was sitting on my stool at the front of the church on Sunday, mostly hidden behind my music stand, as usual. The worship team was playing The Wonderful Cross ,   which is an updated version of When I Survey the Wondrous Cross. The verses are the same hymn I've known my whole life, with an additional chorus. This particular version of the song calls for the bass, and most other instruments, to play only a D for the entire verse, with other appropriate chords added just during the chorus. I have the verses memorized, and I can play an open D with my eyes closed and my left hand tied behind my back, so I didn't need to look at my music. At first, I glanced at the rear screen, where the lyrics are displayed for the onstage singers to see, but since I already knew the words, my gaze shifted across the singing congregation. I couldn't help but notice the family standing right in front, some singing, but most struggling to keep from crying. The elderly man on the end was sitting...