Sunday, December 31, 2006

First Duty of Wives

This is the story I wrote of in my other post by Agnes Turnbull. I found it at http://dana.lifewithchrist.org/. It is long but well worth the read. She has had so many women email her many months ago that she posted it again.




When Queens Ride ByA short story written by Agnes Sligh Turnbull.

Jennie Musgrave woke at the shrill rasp of the alarm clock as she always woke—with the shuddering start and a heavy realization that the brief respite of the night's oblivion was over. She had only time to glance through the dull light at the cluttered, dusty room, before John's voice was saying sleepily as he said every morning, "All right, let's go. It doesn't seem as if we'd been in bed at all!"

Jennie dressed quickly in the clothes, none too clean, that, exhausted, she had flung from her the night before. She hurried down the back stairs, her coarse shoes clattering thickly upon the bare boards. She kindled the fire in the range and then made a hasty pretense at washing in the basin in the sink.

John strode through the kitchen and on out to the barn. There were six cows to be milked and the great cans of milk to be taken to the station for the morning train.

Jennie put coffee and bacon on the stove, and then, catching up a pail from the porch, went after John. A golden red disk broke the misty blue of the morning above the cow pasture. A sweet, fragrant breath blew from the orchard. But Jennie neither saw nor felt the beauty about her.She glanced at the sun and thought, It's going to be a hot day.

She glanced at the orchard, and her brows knit. There it hung. All that fruit. Bushels of it going to waste. Maybe she could get time that day to make some more apple butter. But the tomatoes wouldn't wait. She must pick them and get them to town today, or that would be a dead loss. After all her work, well, it would only be in a piece with everything else if it did happen so. She and John had bad luck, and they might as well make up their minds to it.

She finished her part of the milking and hurried back again to the overcooked bacon and strong coffee. The children were down, clamorous, dirty, always underfoot. Jim, the eldest, was in his first term of school. She glanced at his spotted waist. He should have a clean one. But she couldn't help it. She couldn't get the washing done last week, and when she was to get a day for it this week she didn't know, with all the picking and the trips to town to make!

Breakfast was hurried and unpalatable, a sort of grudging concession to the demands of the body. Then John left in the milk wagon for the station, and Jennie packed little Jim's lunch basket with bread and apple butter and pie, left the two little children to their own devices in the backyard, and started toward the barn. There was no time to do anything in the house. The chickens and turkeys had to be attended to, and then she must get to the tomato patch before the sun got too hot. Behind her was the orchard with its rows and rows of laden apple tree. Maybe this afternoon—maybe tomorrow morning. There were the potatoes, too, to be lifted. Too hard work for a woman. But what were you going to do? Starve? John worked till dark in the fields.

She pushed her hair back with a quick, boyish sweep of her arm and went on scattering the grain to the fowls. She remembered their eager plans when they were married, when they took over the old farm—laden with its heavy mortgage—that had been John's father's. John had been so straight of back then and so jolly. Only seven years, yet now he was stooped a little, and his brows were always drawn, as though to hide a look of ashamed failure. They had planned to have a model farm someday: blooded stock, a tractor, a new barn. And then such a home they were to make of the old stone house! Jennie's hopes had flared higher even than John's. A rug for the parlor, an overstuffed set like the one in the mail—order catalogue, linoleum for the kitchen, electric lights!

They were young and, oh, so strong! There was nothing they could not do if they only worked hard enough.

But that great faith had dwindled as the first year passed. John worked later and later in the evenings. Jennie took more and more of the heavy tasks upon her own shoulders. She often thought with some pride that no woman in the countryside ever helped her husband as she did. Even with the haying and riding the reaper. Hard, coarsening work, but she was glad to do it for John's sake.

The sad riddle of it all was that at the end of each year they were no further on. The only difference from the year before was another window shutter hanging from one hinge and another crippled wagon in the barnyard which John never had time to mend. They puzzled over it in a vague distress. And meanwhile life degenerated into a straining, hopeless struggle. Sometimes lately John had seemed a little listless, as though nothing mattered. A little bitter when he spoke of Henry Davis.

Henry held the mortgage and had expected a payment on the principle this year. He had come once and looked about with something very like a sneer on his face. If he should decide someday to foreclose—that would be the final blow. They never would get up after that. If John couldn't hold the old farm, he could never try to buy a new one. It would mean being renters all their lives. Poor renters at that!

She went to the tomato field. It had been her own idea to do some tracking along with the regular farm crops. But, like everything else, it had failed of her expectations. As she put the scarlet tomatoes, just a little overripe, into the basket, she glanced with a hard tightening of her lips toward a break in the trees a half mile away where a dark, listening bit of road caught the sun. Across its polished surface twinkled an endless procession of shining, swift—moving objects. The State Highway.

Jennie hated it. In the first place, it was so tauntingly near and yet so hopelessly far from them. If it only ran by their door, as it did past henry Davis's for instance, it would solve the whole problem of marketing the fruits and vegetables. Then they could set the baskets on the lawn, and people could stop for them. But as it was, nobody all summer long had paid the least attention to the sign John had put up at the end of the lane. And no wonder. Why should travelers drive their cars over the stony country byway, when a little farther along they would find the same fruit spread temptingly for them at the very roadside?

But there was another reason she hated that bit of sleek road showing between the trees. She hated it because it hurt her with its suggestions of all that passed her by in that endless procession twinkling in the sunshine. There they kept going, day after day, those happy, carefree women, riding in handsome limousines or in gay little roadsters. Some in plainer cars, too, but even those were, like the others, women who could have rest, pleasure, comfort for the asking. They were whirled along hour by hour to new pleasures, while she was weighted to the drudgery of the farm like one of the great rocks in the pasture field.

And—most bitter thought of all—they had pretty homes to go back to when the happy journey was over. That seemed to be the strange and cruel law about homes. The finer they were, the easier it was to leave them. Now with her—if she had the rug for the parlor and the stuffed furniture and linoleum for the kitchen, she shouldn't mind anything so much then; she had nothing, nothing but hard slaving and bad luck. And the highway taunted her with it. Flung its impossible pleasures mockingly in her face as she bent over the vines or dragged the heavy baskets along the rows.

The sun grew hotter. Jennie put more strength into her task. She knew, at last, by the scorching heat overhead that is was nearing noon. She must have a bit of lunch ready for John when he came in. There wasn't time to prepare much. Just reheat the coffee and set down some bread and pie.She started towards the house, giving a long yodeling call for the children as she went. They appeared from the orchard, tumbled and torn from experiments with the wire fence. Her heart smothered her at the sight of them. Among the other dreams that the years had crushed out were those of little rosy boys and girls in clean suits and fresh ruffled dresses. As it was, the children had just grown like farm weeds.

This was the part of all the drudgery that hurt most. That she had not time to care for her children, sew for them, teach them things that other children knew. Sometimes it seemed as if she had no real love for them at all. She was too terribly tired as a rule to have any feeling. The only times she used energy to talk to them was when she had to reprove them for some dangerous misdeed. That was all wrong. It seemed wicked; but how could she help it? With the work draining the very life out of her, strong as she was.

John came in heavily, and they ate in silence except for the children's chatter. John hardly looked up form his plate. He gulped down great drafts of the warmed-over coffee and then pushed his chair back hurriedly. "I'm goin' to try to finish the harrowin' in the south field," he said.

"I'm at the tomatoes," Jennie answered. "I've got them' most all picked and ready for takin'."

That was all. Work was again upon them.

It was two o'clock by the sun, and Jennie had loaded the last heavy basket of tomatoes on the milk wagon in which she must drive to town, when she heard shrill voices sounding along the path. The children were flying in excitement toward her.

"Mum! Mum! Mum!" they called as they came panting up to her with big, surprised eyes.

"Mum, there's a lady up there. At the kitchen door. All dressed up. A pretty lady. She wants to see you."

Jennie gazed down at them disbelievingly. A lady, a pretty lady at her kitchen door? All dressed up! What that could mean! Was it possible someone had at last braved the stony lane to buy fruit? Maybe bushels of it!

"Did she come in a car?" Jennie asked quickly.

"No, she just walked in. She's awful pretty. She smiled at us."

Jennie's hopes dropped. Of course. She might have known. Some agent likely, selling books. She followed the children wearily back along the path and in at the rear door of the kitchen. Across from it another door opened into the side yard. Here stood the stranger.

The two women looked at each other across the kitchen, across the table with the remains of two meals upon it, the strewn chairs, the littered stove—across the whole scene of unlovely disorder. They looked at each other in startled surprise, as inhabitants of Earth and Mars might look if they were suddenly brought face-to-face.

Jennie saw a woman in a gray tweed coat that seemed to be part of her straight, slim body. A small gray hat with a rose quill was drawn low over the brownish hair. Her blue eyes were clear and smiling. She was beautiful! And yet she was not young. She was in her forties, surely. But an aura of eager youth clung to her, a clean and exquisite freshness.

The stranger in her turn looked across at a young woman, haggard and weary. Her yellowish hair hung in straggling wisps. Her eyes looked hard and hunted. Her cheeks were thin and sallow. Her calico dress was shapeless and begrimed from her work.

So they looked at each other for one long, appraising second. Then the woman in gray smiled.

"How do you do? " she began. "We ran our car into the shade of your lane to have our lunch and rest for a while. And I walked on up to buy a few apples, if you have them."

Jennie stood staring at the stranger. There was an unconscious hostility in her eyes. This was one of the women from the highway. One of those envied ones who passed twinkling through the summer sunshine from pleasure to pleasure while Jennie slaved on.

But the pretty lady's smile was disarming. Jennie started toward a chair and pulled off the old coat and apron that lay on it.

"Won't you sit down?" she said politely. "I'll go and get the apples. I'll have to pick them off the tree. Would you prefer rambos?"

"I don't know what they are, but they sound delicious. You must choose them for me. But mayn't I come with you? I should love to help pick them."

Jennie considered. She felt baffled by the friendliness of the other woman's face and utterly unable to meet it. But she did not know how to refuse.
"Why I s'pose so. If you can get through the dirt."

She led the way over the back porch with its crowded baskets and pails and coal buckets, along the unkept path toward the orchard. She had never been so acutely conscious of the disorder about her. Now a hot shame brought a lump to her throat. In her preoccupied haste before, she had actually not noticed that tub of overturned milk cans and rubbish heap! She saw it all now swiftly through the other woman's eyes. And then that new perspective was checked by a bitter defiance. Why should she care how things looked to this woman? She would be gone, speeding down the highway in a few minutes as though she had never been there.

She reached the orchard and began to drag a long ladder from the fence to the rambo tree.

The other woman cried out in distress. "Oh, but you can't do that! You mustn't. It's too heavy for you, or even for both of us. Please just let me pick a few from the ground."

Jennie looked in amazement at the stranger's concern. It was so long since she had seen anything like it.

"Heavy?" she repeated. "This ladder? I wish I didn't ever lift anything heavier than this. After hoistin' bushel baskets of tomatoes onto a wagon, this feels light to me."

The stranger caught her arm. "But—but do you think it's right? Why, that's a man's work."

Jennie's eyes blazed. Something furious and long-pent broke out from within her. "Right! Who are you to be askin' me whether I'm right or not?" What would have become of us if I didn't do a man's work? It takes us both, slaving away, an' then we get nowhere. A person like you don't know what work is! You don't know—"

Jennie's voice was the high shrill of hysteria; but the stranger's low tones somehow broke through. "Listen," she said soothingly. "Please listen to me. I'm sorry I annoyed you by saying that, but now, since we are talking, why can't we sit down here and rest a minute? It's so cool and lovely here under the trees, and if you were to tell me all about it—because I'm only a stranger—perhaps it would help. It does sometimes, you know. A little rest would—"

"Rest! Me sit down to rest, an' the wagon loaded to go to town? It'll hurry me now to get back before dark."

And then something strange happened. The other women put her cool, soft hand on Jennie's grimy arm. There was a compelling tenderness in her eyes. "Just take the time you would have spent picking apples. I would so much rather. And perhaps somehow I could help you. I wish I could. Won't you tell me why you have to work so hard?"

Jennie sank down on the smooth green grass. Her hunted, unwilling eyes had yielded to some power in the clear, serene eyes of the stranger. A sort of exhaustion came over her. A trembling reaction from the straining effort of weeks.

"There ain't much to tell," she said half sullenly, "only that we ain't gettin' ahead. We're clean discouraged, both off us. Henry Davis is talking about foreclosin' on us if we don't pay some principle. The time of the mortgage is out this year, an' mebbe he won't renew it. He's got plenty himself, but them's the hardest kind." She paused; then her eyes flared. "An' it ain't that I haven't done my part. Look at me. I'm barely thirty, an' I might be fifty. I'm so weather-beaten. That's the way I've worked!"

"And you think that has helped your husband?"

"Helped him?" Jennie's voice was sharp. "Why shouldn't it help him?"

The stranger was looking away through the green stretches of orchard. She laced her slim hands together about her knees. She spoke slowly. "Men are such queer things, husbands especially. Sometimes we blunder when we are trying hardest to serve them. For instance, they want us to be economical, and yet they want us in pretty clothes. They need our work, and yet they want us to keep our youth and our beauty. And sometimes they don't know themselves which they really want most. So we have to choose. That's what makes it so hard".

She paused. Jennie was watching her with dull curiosity as though she were speaking a foreign tongue. Then the stranger went on:

I had to choose once, long ago; just after we were married, my husband decided to have his own business, so he started a very tiny one. He couldn't afford a helper, and he wanted me to stay in the office while he did the outside selling. And I refused, even though it hurt him. Oh, it was hard! But I knew how it would be if I did as he wished. We would both have come back each night. Tired out, to a dark, cheerless house and a picked-up dinner. And a year if that might have taken something away from us—something precious. I couldn't risk it, so I refused and stuck to it. "

And then how I worked in my house—a flat it was then. I had so little outside of our wedding gifts; but at least I could make it a clean, shining, happy place. I tried to give our little dinners the grace of a feast. And as the months went on, I knew I had done right. My husband would come home dead-tired and discouraged, ready to give up the whole thing. But after he had eaten and sat down in our bright little living room, and I had read to him or told him all the funny things I could invent about my day, I could see him change. By bedtime he had his courage back, and by morning he was at last ready to go out and fight again. And at last he won, and he won his success alone, as a man loves to do.

Still Jennie did not speak. She only regarded her guest with a half-resentful understanding.

The woman in gray looked off again between the trees. Her voice was very sweet. A humorous little smile played about her lips.

"There was a queen once," she went on, "who reigned in troublous days. And every time the country was on the brink of war and the people ready to fly into a panic, she would put on her showiest dress and take her court with her and go hunting. And when the people would see her riding by, apparently so gay and happy, they were sure all was well with the Government. So she tided over many a danger. And I've tried to be like her.

"Whenever a big crisis comes in my husband's business—and we've had several—or when he's discouraged, I put on my prettiest dress and get the best dinner I know how or give a party! And somehow it seems to work. That's the woman's part, you know. To play the queen—"

A faint honk-honk came from the lane. The stranger started to her feet. "That's my husband. I must go. Please don't bother about the apples. I'll just take these from under the tree. We only wanted two or three, really. And give these to the children." She slipped two coins into Jennie's hand.Jennie had risen, too, and was trying from a confusion of startled thoughts to select one for speech. Instead she only answered the other woman's bright good-bye with a stammering repetition and a broken apology about the apples.

She watched the stranger's erect, lithe figure hurrying away across the path that led directly to the lane. Then she turned her back to the house, wondering dazedly if she had only dreamed that the other woman had been there. But no, there were emotions rising hotly within her that were new. They had had no place an hour before. They had risen at the words of the stranger and at the sight of her smooth, soft hair, the fresh color in her cheeks, the happy shine of her eyes.

A great wave of longing swept over Jennie, a desire that was lost in choking despair. It was as thought she had heard a strain of music for which she had waited all her life and then felt it swept away into silence before she had grasped its beauty. For a few brief minutes she, Jennie Musgrave, had sat beside one of the women of the highway and caught a breath of her life—that life which forever twinkled in the past in bright procession, like the happenings of a fairy tale. Then she was gone, and Jennie was left as she had been, bound to the soil like one of the rocks of the field.

The bitterness that stormed her heart now was different from the old dull disheartenment. For it was coupled with new knowledge. The words of the stranger seemed more vivid to her than when she had sat listening in the orchard. But they came back to her with the pain of agony.

"All very well for her to talk so smooth to me about man's work and woman's work! An' what she did for her husband's big success. Easy enough for her to sit talking about queens! What would she do if she was here on this farm like me? What would a woman like her do?"

Jennie had reached the kitchen door and stood there looking at the hopeless melee about her. Her words sounded strange and hollow in the silence of the house. "Easy for her!" she burst out. She never had the work pilin' up over her like I have. She never felt it at her throat like a wolf, the same as John an' me does. Talk about choosin'! I haven't got no choice. I just got to keep goin'—just keep goin', like I always have—"

She stopped suddenly. There in the middle of the kitchen floor, where the other woman had passed over, lay a tiny square of white. Jennie crossed to it quickly and picked it up. A faint delicious fragrance like the dream of a flower came from it. Jennie inhaled it eagerly. It was not like any odor she had ever known. It made her think of sweet, strange things. Things she had never thought about before. Of gardens in the early summer dusk, of wide fair rooms with the moonlight shining in them. It made her somehow think with vague wistfulness of all that.

She looked carefully at the tiny square. The handkerchief was of fine, fairylike smoothness. In the corner a dainty blue butterfly spread his wings. Jennie drew in another long breath. The fragrance filled her senses again. Her first greedy draft had not exhausted it. It would stay for a while, at least.

She laid the bit of white down cautiously on the edge of the table and went to the sink, where she washed her hands carefully. The she returned and picked up the handkerchief again with something like reverence. She sat down, still holding it, staring at it. This bit of linen was to her an articulated voice. She understood its language. It spoke to her of white, freshly washed clothes blowing in the sunshine, of an iron moving smoothly, leisurely, to the accompaniment of a song over snowy folds; it spoke to her of quiet, orderly rooms and ticking clocks and a mending basket under the evening lamp; it spoke to her of all the peaceful routine of a well managed household, the kind she had once dreamed of having.

But more than this, the exquisite daintiness of it, the sweet, alluring perfume spoke to her of something else which her heart understood, even though her speech could have found no words for it. She could feel gropingly the delicacy, the grace, the beauty that made up the other woman's life in all its relations.

She, Jennie, had none of that. Everything about their lives, hers and John's, was coarsened, soiled somehow by the dragging, endless labor or the days.

Jennie leaned forward, her arms stretched tautly before her upon her knees, her hands clasped tightly over the fragrant bit of white. Suppose she were to try doing as the stranger had said. Suppose that she spent her time on the house and let the outside work go. What then? What would John say? Would they be much farther behind than they were now? Could they be? And suppose, by some strange chance, the other woman had been right! That a man could be helped more by doing of these other things she had neglected?

She sat very still, distressed, uncertain. Out in the barnyard waited the wagon of tomatoes, overripe now for market. No, she could do nothing today, at least, but go on as usual.

Then her hands opened a little; the perfume within them came up to her, bringing again that thrill of sweet, indescribable things.

She started up, half-terrified at her own resolve. "I'm goin' to try it now. Mebbe I'm crazy, but I'm goin' to do it anyhow!"

It was a long time since Jennie had performed such a meticulous toilet. It was years since she had brushed her hair. A hasty combing had been its best treatment. She put on her one clean dress, the dark voile reserved for trips to town. She even changed from her shapeless, heavy shoes to her best ones. Then, as she looked at herself in the dusty mirror, she saw that she was changed. Something, at least, of the hard haggardness was gone from her face, and her hair framed it with smooth softness. Tomorrow she would wash it. It used to be almost yellow.

She went to the kitchen. With something of the burning zeal of a fanatic, she attacked the confusion before her. By half past four the room was clean: the floor swept, the stove shining, dishes and pans washed and put in their places. From the tumbled depths of a drawer Jennie had extracted a white tablecloth that had been bought in the early days, for company only. With a spirit of daring recklessness she spread it on the table. She polished the chimney of the big oil lamp and then set the fixture, clean and shining, in the center of the white cloth.

Now the supper! And she must hurry. She planned to have it at six o' clock and ring the big bell for John fifteen minutes before, as she used to just after they were married.

She decided upon fried ham and browned potatoes and applesauce with hot biscuits. She hadn't made them for so long, but her fingers fell into their old deftness. Why, cooking was just play if you had time to do it right! Then she thought of the tomatoes and gave a little shudder. She thought of the long hours of backbreaking work she had put into them and called herself a little fool to have been swayed by the words of a strange and the scent of a handkerchief, to neglect her rightful work and bring more loss upon John and herself. But she went on, making the biscuits, turning the ham, setting the table.

It was half past five; the first pan of flaky brown mounds had been withdrawn from the oven, the children's faces and hands had been washed and their excited questions satisfied, when the sound of a car came from the bend. Jennie knew that car. It belonged to Henry Davis. He could be coming for only one thing.

The blow they had dreaded, fending off by blind disbelief in the ultimate disaster, was about to fall. Henry was coming to tell them he was going to foreclose. It would almost kill John. This was his father's old farm. John had taken it over, mortgage and all, so hopefully, so sure he could succeed where his father had failed. If he had to leave now there would be a double disgrace to bear. And where could they go? Farms weren't so plentiful.

Henry had driven up to the side gate. He fumbled with some papers in his inner pocket as he started up the walk. A wild terror filled Jennie's heart. She wanted desperately to avoid meeting Henry Davis's keen, hard face, to flee somewhere, anywhere before she heard the words hat doomed them.

Then as she stood shaken, wondering how she could live through what the next hours would bring, she saw in a flash the beautiful stranger as she had sat in the orchard, looking off between the trees and smiling to herself. "There was once a queen."

Jennie heard the words again distinctly just as Henry Davis's steps sounded sharply nearer on the walk outside. There was only a confused picture of a queen wearing the stranger's lovely, highbred face, riding gaily to the hunt through forests and towns while her kingdom was tottering. Riding gallantly on, in spite of her fears.

Jennie's heart was pounding and her hands were suddenly cold. But something unreal and yet irresistible was sweeping her with it. "There was once a queen."

She opened the screen door before Henry Davis had time to knock. She extended her hand cordially. She was smiling. "Well, how d' you do, Mr. Davis. Come right in. I'm real glad to see you. Been quite a while since you was over."

Henry looked surprised and very much embarrassed. "Why, no, now, I won't go in. I just stopped to see John on a little matter of business. I'll just—"

"You'll just come right in. John will be in from milkin' in a few minutes an' you can talk while you eat, both of you. I've supper just ready. Now step right in, Mr. Davis!"

As Jennie moved aside, a warm, fragrant breath of fried ham and biscuits seemed to waft itself to Henry Davis's nostrils. There was a visible softening of his features. "Why, no, I didn't reckon on anything like this. I 'lowed I'd just speak to John and then be gettin' on."

"They'll see you at home when you get there," Jennie put in quickly. "You never tasted my hot biscuits with butter an' quince honey, or you wouldn't take so much coachin'!"

Henry Davis came in and sat in the big, clean, warm kitchen. His eyes took in every detail of the orderly room: the clean cloth, the shining lamp, the neat sink, the glowing stove. Jennie saw him relax comfortably in his chair. Then above the aromas of the food about her, she detected the strange sweetness of the bit of white linen she had tucked away in the bosom of her dress. It rose to her as a haunting sense of her power as a woman.

She smiled at Henry Davis. Smiled as she would never have thought of doing a day ago. Then she would have spoken to him with a drawn face full of subservient fear. Now, though the fear clutched her heart, her lips smiled sweetly, moved by that unreality that seemed to possess her. "There was once a queen."


"An' how are things goin' with you, Mr. Davis?" she asked with a blithe upward reflection.

Henry Davis was very human. He had never noticed before that Jennie's hair was so thick and pretty and that she had such pleasant ways. Neither had he dreamed that she was such a good cook as the sight and smell of the supper things would indicate. He was very comfortable there in the big sweet-smelling kitchen.

He smiled back. It was an interesting experiment on Henry's part, for his smiles were rare. "Oh, so-so. How are they with you?"

Jennie had been taught to speak the truth; but at this moment there dawned in her mind a vague understanding that the high loyalties of life are, after all, relative and not absolute.

She smiled again as she skillfully flipped a great slice of golden brown ham over in the frying pan. "Why, just fine, Mr. Davis. We're gettin' on just fine, John an' me. It's been hard sleddin' but I sort of think the worst is over. I think we're goin' to come out way ahead now. We'll just be proud to pay off that mortgage so fast, come another year, that you'll be surprised!"

It was said. Jennie marveled that the words had not choked her, had not somehow smitten her dead as she spoke them. But their effect on Henry Davis was amazingly good.

"That so?" he asked in surprise. "Well now, that's fine. I always wanted to see John make a success of the old place, but somehow—well, you know it didn't look as if—that is, there's been some talk around that maybe John wasn't just gettin' along any too—you know. A man has to sort of watch his investments. Well, now, I'm glad things are pickin' up a little."

Jennie felt as though a tight hand at her throat had relaxed. She spoke brightly of the fall weather and the crops as she finished setting the dishes on the table and rang the big bell for John. There was delicate work yet to be done when he came in.

Little Jim had to be sent to hasten him before he finally appeared. He was a big man, John Musgrave, big and slow moving and serious. He had known nothing all his life but hard physical toil. Hedaviess had pitted his great body against all the adverse forces of nature. There was a time when he had felt that strength such as his was all any man needed to bring him fortune. Now he was not so sure. The brightness of that faith was dimmed by experience.

John came to the kitchen door with his eyebrows drawn. Little Jim had told Jim that Henry Davis was there. He came into the room as an accused man faces the jury of his peers, faces the men who, though the same flesh and blood as he, are yet somehow curiously in a position to save or to destroy him.

John came in, and then he stopped, staring blankly at the scene before him. At Jennie moving about the bright table, chatting happily with Henry Davis! At Henry himself, his sharp features softened by an air of great satisfaction. At the sixth plate on the white cloth. Henry staying for supper!

But the silent deeps of John's nature served him well. He made no comment. Merely shook hands with Henry Davis and then washed his face at the sink.

Jennie arranged the savory dishes, and they sat down to supper. It was an entirely new experience to John to sit at the head of his own table and serve a generously heaped plate to Henry Davis. It sent through him a sharp thrill of sufficiency, of equality. He realized that before he had been cringing in his soul at the very sight of this man.

Henry consumed eight biscuits richly covered with quince honey, along with the heavier part of his dinner. Jennie counted them. She recalled hearing that the Davises did not set a very bountiful table; it was common talk that Mrs. Davis was even more "miserly" than her husband. But, however that was, Henry now seemed to grow more and more genial and expansive as he ate. So did John. By the time the pie was set before them, they were laughing over a joke Henry had heard at Grange meeting.

Jennie was bright, watchful, careful. If the talk lagged, she made a quick remark. She moved softly between table and stove, refilling the dishes. She saw to it that a hot biscuit was at Henry Davis's elbow just when he was ready for it. All the while there was rising within her a strong zest for life that she would have deemed impossible only that morning. This meal, at least, was a perfect success, and achievements of any sort whatever had been few.

Henry Davis left soon after supper. He brought the conversation around awkwardly to his errand as they rose from the table. Jennie was ready. "I told him, John, that the worst was over now, an' we're getting' on fine!" She laughed." I told him we'd be swampin' him pretty soon with our payments. Ain't that right John?"

John's mind was not analytical. At that moment he was comfortable. He has been host at a delicious supper with his ancient adversary, whose sharp face marvelously softened. Jennie's eyes were shining with a new and amazing confidence. It was a natural moment for unreasoning optimism.

"Why that's right, Mr. Davis. I believe we can start clearin' this off now pretty soon. If you could just see your way clear to renew the note mebbe. . . .

"It was done. The papers were back in Davis's pocket. They had bid him a cordial good-bye from the door.

"Next time you come, I will have biscuits for you Mr. Davis." Jennie had called daringly after him.

"Now you don't forget that Mrs. Musgrave! They certainly ain't hard to eat."

He was gone. Jennie cleared the table and set the shining lamp in the center of the oilcloth covering. She began to wash the dishes. John was fumbling through the papers on a hanging shelf. He finally sat down with and old tablet and pencil. He spoke meditatively. "I believe I'll do a little figurin' since I've got time tonight. It just struck me that mebbe if I used my head a little more I'd get on faster."

"Well now, you might," said Jennie. It would not be John's way to comment just yet on their sudden deliverance. She polished two big Rambo apples and placed them on a saucer beside him.

He looked pleased. "Now that's what I like." He grinned. Then making a clumsy clutch at her arm, he added, "Say, you look sort of pretty tonight."Jennie made a brisk coquettish business of freeing herself. "Go along with you!" she returned, smiling and started in again upon the dishes. But a hot wave of color had swept up in her shallow cheeks.

John had looked more grateful over her setting those two apples beside him now, than he had the day last fall when she lifted all the potatoes herself! Men were strange, as the woman in gray had said. Maybe even John had been needing something else more than he needed the hard, backbreaking work she had been doing.

She tidied up the kitchen and put the children to bed. It seemed strange to be through now, ready to sit down. All summer they had worked outdoors till bedtime. Last night she had been slaving over apple butter until she stopped, exhausted, and John had been working in the barn with the lantern. Tonight seemed so peaceful, so quiet. John still sat at the table, figuring while he munched his apples. His brows were not drawn now. There was a new, purposeful light upon his face.

Jennie walked to the doorway and stood looking off through the darkness and through the break in the trees at the end of the lane. Bright and golden lights kept glittering across it, breaking dimly through the woods, flashing out strongly for a moment, then disappearing behind the hill. Those were the lights of the happy cars that never stopped in their swift search for far and magic places. Those were the lights of the highway which she had hated. But she did not hate it now. For today it had come to her at last and left with her some of its mysterious pleasure.

Jennie wished, as she stood there, that she could somehow tell the beautiful stranger in the gray coat that her words had been true, that she, Jennie, insofar as she was able, was to be like her and fulfill her woman's part.

For while she was not figuring as John was doing, yet her mind had been planning, sketching in details, strengthening itself against the chains of old habits, resolving on new ones; seeing with sudden clearness where they had been blundered, where they had made mistakes that farsighted, orderly management could have avoided. But how could John have sat down to figure in comfort before, in the kind of kitchen she had been keeping?

Jennie bit her lip. Even if some of the tomatoes spoiled, if all of them spoiled, there would be a snowy washing on her line tomorrow; there would be ironing the next day in her clean kitchen. She could sing as she worked. She used to when she was a girl. Even if the apples rotted on the trees, there were certain things she knew now that she must do, regardless of what John might say. It would pay better in the end, for she had read the real needs of his soul from his eyes that evening. Yes, wives had to choose for their husbands sometimes.

A thin haunting breath of sweetness rose from the bosom of her dress where the scrap of white linen lay. Jennie smiled into the dark. And tomorrow she would take time to wash her hair. It used to be yellow—and she wished she could see the stranger once more, just long enough to tell her she understood.

As matter of fact, at that very moment, many miles along the sleek highway, a woman in a gray coat, with a soft gray hat and a rose quill, leaned suddenly close to her husband as he shot the high-powered car through the night. Suddenly he glanced down at her and slackened the speed. "Tired?" he asked. "You haven't spoken for miles. Shall we stop at this next town?"

The woman shook her head. "I'm all right, and I love to drive at night. It's only—you know—that poor woman at the farm. I can't get over her wretched face and house and everything. It—it was hopeless!"

The man smiled down at her tenderly. "Well, I'm sorry, too, if it was all as bad as your description; but you mustn't worry. Good gracious, darling, you're not weeping over it, I hope!"

"No, truly, just a few little tears. I know it's silly, but I did so want to help her, and I know now that what I said must have sounded perfectly insane. She wouldn't know what I was talking about. She just looked up with that blank, tired face. And it all seemed so impossible. No, I'm not going to cry. Of course I'm not—but—lend me your handkerchief, will you dear? I've lost mine somehow!"



Art Available at Fulcrum Gallery

The journey back

It has been a while since I've been able to post. I was very busy with the job I took, even though it was 15 hrs a week, with commute and still trying to keep up my responsibilities as a wife and homemaker, well, let's just say I have A LOT of housework to do and making up to do with hubby.

Imagine a woman running frantically from 6am to 10pm with her day looking like this: She is making her husband's breakfast and her's (she has a special diet), not in a sane loving way, but a frantic, rushed, all over the kitchen with food burning and 4 things half done. Next hubby comes out, see's the chaos and tries to stay out of the way..she tosses his plate on the counter, finishes her meal and off to get ready for the day...in 30 minutes. Her hair is put in the simplest form, dressed and grabs her lunch as she pats the dogs on the head and rushes out the door.

At work the day is slow paced but productive. As her shift is finishing she is making a list of the places she needs to stop at while she is on this side of town. After all the errands, she tries to make it home in time to "rest" before hubby gets home. Though when she walks in the door, the dogs and daughter want some attention. Not to mention the arm load of "stuff" she has just brought in, and unpacking her lunch box. No time to rest, must get dinner going and tidy the bedroom and house.

While tidying, hubby calls to say he's on his way. She thinks "oh no, I'm not ready". The rush starts again, "what things are the most important before he gets home?" Dog toys picked up, and food being prepared...no a sane wife. No time for that got to get dinner going, I have to leave in an hour for a meeting. A quick peck and dinner is served.

After dinner the family cleans up so she can get out the door. Two hours later she arrives back home and the kithen isn't ready for the next day so she spends about 45 min. finishing up. Prepares lunches, coffee, etc for the next morning. As her day comes to an end it's almost 10 pm, she looks back and realizes she never got her "down time" so she decides to do some prayers or inspirational reading before bed.

As she finally sits in her reading chair in the corner of the bedroom, it feels so good that she doesn't get three sentences read and her eyes won't stay open. "Must go to bed so I don't sleep all night in the chair." As her head hits the pillow and the light goes out, she is instantly asleep, resting for the same routine tomorrow.


That has been my life for the past 6 weeks until I read a story. I was searching the 'net for other women or readings on being a submissive wife. A story came up called First Duty of Wives by Agnes Turnbull. I will post this on a separate posting because it is long. Anyways, I didn't have time to read it and in the past had read some things I've read that weren't supportive of being a submissive wife, so I asked my husband to read it first. He finished it, cam to me and said "Yes you should read it...right now, I will finish dinner. Oh and hold on to your boot straps!"

After I finished the story, I'm a slow reader so it took a while, I was dumbfounded. I turned to him and said "So does this mean I'm giving my 2 week notice at work?" He shook his head yes. What a relief! I told him how stressful it has been to try to be there for him, take care of the house, and work. I enjoy tending to the house and having the time to take care of me, but most of all I enjoy living the call that God has for women, at least for me. I have found many things in the Bible about how women should behave, dress, and what there priorities should be. It's all laid out. Even in the new testement.

So, I can't say I will be posting daily, but I will try to post once a week or so as my busy life allows. We are moving in 5 months, and my husband is retiring from the Marine Corps (so I look forward to being there for him to help with this), AND I my youngest step-daughter is graduating high school...all in May and June.

Women are the glue of the family. Our management skills along with our natural loving and caring nature gives us the tools to be the wife and homemaker God has called each of us to be. We just have to foster the tools.

Gods peace,
Dee

Friday, November 17, 2006

Overly busy

I know we all are busy this time of year, but the past two weeks have been exceptional in the Peterson home. We had my husband's oldest daughter fly in, and his parents drove from NM here to GA. The Marine Corps Birthday ball was Friday Nov. 10th. This was also our first date 16 yrs ago. All our family has returned home, or moved on in there traveling adventures and our home seems so empty, but I am grateful God gave us the time with each of them.

Also, I am starting a new part time job. Since my youngest step-daughter is almost 18, and I don't have any more at home, I felt the need to do something more with my time. My first priority is my husband and tending to the basics of the house. But I'm learning I can't be obsessive about keeping an emaculant home just so hubby and I can feel awkward in it. We like a lived in home.

I've tried creating the clay angel bears and selling them. They did well, but I don't have the drive to do that for several hours a day. I enjoy being around people, and natural health. Though I was already working 8 hrs at the vitamin and supplement store I was at, I had wanted more hours and a less stressful environment. It's a long story but it involves the owner and in order to remain Christian I am not going to go into detail. So about 3 weeks ago I had a drive inside me to go back to a store I worked at 2 yrs ago and try to work things out. Before, I was unable to stand for the time they needed. God was still helping me recover from my illness and we both agreed it wouldn't work. Though today, Praise God!!, I am well and continue to get back to 100% all while keeping my focus on God and being grateful everyday.

They hired me back and I started this week. I have been working 2 jobs this week, thankfully it will only be this week. My 2 wk notice would be until next week, but with Thanksgiving, it will end this week. Yesterday I got up, fixed my darling hubby breakfast and said what day is it so I know which store to go to today? We both laughed. And answering the phone, ugh! I am excited to continue my growth though in the natural health field. Though I do most of my learning from LOTS of reading, I also learn from others in the field.

God gave me the desire to pursue this new job, they created the postion and hours, now I have the challenge of standing on my own and showing them they didn't make a mistake. My sweet husband is behind me all the way. Though he has always asked that my p/t job not get in the way of our time together, evenings and weekends...fatigue etc. I am glad to say God has given me the energy to work 2 jobs, 5 days this week and I still have been able to get the laundry and basic house cleaning done and still have energy to love on my honey ;)

I am currently trying to find a way to dry my clothes inside since the weather has turned cold. Anyone have ideas? In trying to save electricity this has been my current project.

May God bless you today~
Dee

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Tuesday's Thought

"Well ordered words are as a honeycomb: sweet to the soul, and health to the bones." Prov. 16:24


God tells us often, in the Bible, about choosing our words carefully. Words determine if we are full of Prudence and Wisdom or fools in hast. I sometimes tend to be the later, no, most of the time. This is something I work on daily. Stop...think and carefully choose the words we want to say. "He that keepeth his mouth and his tongue, keepeth his soul from distress." Prov 21:23. How many times have you spoken up to quickly and winced, wishing you could take it back? The old saying "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me" is false! Words cut to the soul. From our children to our spouses and friends, they all deserve to be treated as we would want to be treated. With kind, thoughtful words.


Gods peace,

Dee

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Tuesday's Tip

Today I'm posting a Tuesday's tip. I am going to try to do this each week. Something useful, hopefully. Please let me know if it helps you.

Dee's "Kill A Cold Drink"

1 mug of hot water
1 freshly pressed garlic clove (powder or jar doesn't work)
less than 1/8 tsp Cayenne pepper (just a sprinkle)
1 tsp honey
Mix in cup. Garlic will float so it should be stirred as you drink it.
____________________________________________________

I've used this for the past couple years and no one in my family has gotten a cold or the flu. If it's used the first day or two of feeling yucky, one will do it. If the cold has been around for a few days you may need to do one a day for two or three days.

I have many people testify this works, even hubbies who turned up their nose and said "what is Dee trying to do kill ME!?" LOL

I just laugh and say, trust me it works. The warm water helps everything absorb easier, the garlic is antifungal/antivirus, the cayenne is to open things up and will clear sinus', the honey is for good measure so it is tastey to drink. PLEASE DON"T CHEW THE GARLIC, just swallow it down the hatch. That's my tip.

Good health to you,

Dee

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Ch ch ch changes...

I've stepped out of comfort zone and did something different. I've changed my blog to the new beta blogger. There isn't a whole lot new yet, except under my profile, my name "homemakersheart" is not showing correctly. Oh, well..I'll get that fixed somehow. I love that you can add things in the column and change colors. I've been wanting to change that for quite some time but didn't know how or where to look. I've removed the music too, started getting on my nerves..can only imagine what others feel.

***News***


As a family effort, we have all decided we are "Going Green". We want to be more environmentally conscious. Each week(or as close to that as we can) we are going to be taking small steps to help preserve the earth that God has given us to survive off of. Hubby and I agree, even if we are the only one's that do this in our neck of the woods, at least it is something. We can feel good that we are doing our part as best we can. I will be posting what it is each week we have started implementing towards Going Green. I hope you check back periodically to see what's new on our journey. Who knows, you may even consider joining in, even if it's just one thing...that one thing can go along ways if everyone did it.

I wish you God's peace.

~Dee

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Pumpkin Patch

Every year, no matter where we are stationed, we have a tradition of taking the girls to a pumpkin patch and taking a fall picture. Well, today we went..and I forgot my camera! UGH! I have been assured we will go back in the next couple weeks to get my final picture. Yep, my youngest step-daughter is a Senior and plans on moving away to college next summer. So, this year was my last "tradition" of pictures at the pumpkin patch.

As I said this to Danielle while we were walking up the dirt road, I stuck out my lip to pout. She rolled her eyes and said "Mom, it's not like I'm dissapearing. I'll be home sometimes and we can go then." *Sigh*

Well here are the 3 we picked today. The tall cool one is my Honey's, and the white unique one is Danielle's, the bumpy one is mine. :-)

God's peace be with you~
Dee

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Thursday's Thought

~Thursday's Thought For The Day~
"We are only caretakers of the earth."
~tea bag tag...
After reading this and mulling it over for a while, I found this to be true in a few instances. God gave us the earth and ll we need to sustain our lively hood. We are only caretakers of the earth. We don't own it and can't take it with us, but we can care for it while we are here. In turn we get the abundance of food and some of the most beautiful flowers. I've heard flowers are the earth laughing (there's another Thursday's thought.)
.
Another aspect I saw in this quote was: we can care for our kids and eventually we have to let them go and grow up. They then tend to themselves and their kids. When we don't have kids at home anymore, or they are grown, we can be caretakers of the earth. The earth has always been here, and our time and effort put into tending to it (be it gardening for food, going "green", or planting more trees and flowers) will sustain it for generations. We truly are only caretakers of the earth. That is the only thing that will always be there that will need us for as long as God allows us to be here.
~Mrs. P.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Rummage Sale

This morning we went to a Women's Club rummage sale. Check out our treasure's..




The shirts, scarfs, and jewerly are Danielle's treasures, the vintage apron, gloves, lamp and pillow case are my treasures. The gloves were 25 cents each, one pair is leather, the long one's have pearl buttons. My hands are always cold so I wear gloves a lot, usually black gloves liners or knit gloves. These will be much prettier, especially in church. How fun it was to spend time together. Well, lunch time now.

I wish you God's peace.

~Dee

Thursday, October 05, 2006

Spirit Day

Spirit Day is today and she is all red and black!
Ok, she dyed her hair red last night for spirit day. (Eye-balls popping out here!) Fortunately it's not permanent. 2-3 washings and it should be gone. Danielle is all into spirit day today, her make-up, she bought the shirt and hat last night and painted them, then shredded old pants to go with it all. Homecoming is tomorrow night.

I hope I get my normal conservative step-daughter back now....

~Dee

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

'80's Day


Yep, flash back city!!


My step-daughter chose this outfit for '80's day at school. She looks so grown up I can hardly believe she's only 17 (soon 18). I am so proud of her. The thrifty part of her came out when she put together this outfit for under $15. Ok, those of you that are able to remember the '80's, check out the shoes...oh and the blue eyeshadow! I fell over when I saw the black patent purse to finish it off. God has truely blessed me with a beautiful step-daughter who continues to amaze me everyday.

~Mrs. P

Monday, October 02, 2006

Senior Spirit Week

My youngest step daughter is a senior this year, ugh! My husband and I have raised her since she was 3 (her sister was 5), and now she's a SENIOR! I feel old!

Well this week is Spirit week and today is: Mismatch Day!


I just love her! She is a great person and step-daughter. (She said she had to work hard at trying to mis-match.)

Will keep you posted on tomorrow's event.

~Mrs. Peterson

Saturday, September 30, 2006

National Womanhood Day!

Happy Womanhood Day! Today is the day to celebrate preserving being a woman, and by that I don't mean the women's lib thing. Check out the article below I found while searching the web, it's a great description:


"Purpose of Womanhood Day, September 30
Womanhood Day is an effort to preserve femininity, masculinity, marriage and family life. It is hoped that this day will be the door to a better life, with a good year to follow in which we, as women, more perfectly succeed in our careers in the home. On September 30 1972 the first National Womanhood Day was proclaimed. This day received national and international attention and was observed in many homes across the country. Each year, with your help and the help of women everywhere, this special day will be celebrated in the hope of preserving the true character of womanhood.

GIVE YOUR HUSBAND AND FAMILY YOUR BEST TODAY.
A Double Life: In this early movie, Ronald Coleman played the part of a great and famous actor who became so involved with the characters he played that they influenced the direction of his life. Before he became a famous actor he married a charming and angelic girl named Britta. But this almost ideal marriage did not last because he became so obsessed with the various parts he played that he became difficult to live with. After their divorce he made this statement: “When I married Britta, that is when I wanted to become a great actor.” A woman has great power over a man, to make or break him. She can make him happy, or she can make him sad. She can inspire him to reach his highest dreams, or she can become his stumbling block. And although she does not have all power, she can influence his life profoundly. May God help us all to become our husband’s greatest source of joy and the inspiration of his highest dreams. "



~Mrs. P

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Posting problems??

Anyone else have problems yesterday posting? I logged on this morning and found my problems yesterday turned into 3 posts of the same thing!! Ugh!

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Tuesday's Ten

10 favorite articles of clothing:

1. A soft sweater, light green, white, or soft pink
2. warm fuzzy socks
3. my Ariat boots
4.Black blazer
5. Crisp white shirt
6. walking shoes (tennis shoes for those that don't know I walk all the time)
7. Sunday comfies (a purple soft lounge outfit, it's nice after being all dressed up for church)
8. jean jacket
9. my new long skirt that hubby says it's my gypsy skirt
10. anything that makes me feel pretty

Ok, whoever reads this ...TAG...please leave a post here so I can read yours.

~Dee

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Gifts from my honey


My husband brought me this beautiful Lei from Hawaii. I can't even begin to describe how lovely it smells. I wore it all last night and the put it in the refrigerator so it will last, and my fridge started to smell a little too lovely as well. Not good when I am hungry, so I have it on again today. I think I may hang it in my bedroom so I can smell the fragrance more (and keep my craving for food when I open my fridge) ;-)




The second picture is a bouqet of flowers the team bought me for finding them a hotel room in a last minute situation. The Bird of Paradise flower is the big orange and yellow one that looks like a bird's beak. I don't know the names of the other flowers. I thought that was kind of them and wanted to share them with you all.

May God grant you peace today.

~Dee

Friday, September 22, 2006

Tomorrow's excitement

I am so excited for tomorrow. My hubby comes home after being gone for 10 days. The Marine Corps sent him to Okinawa for 3 days and on to Hawaii for 2 days. With all the bad weather in Japan (they had a typhoon) and the time differences, well, I plan on not planning a thing tomorrow! Except to pot my mums I just bought. Which brings me to my second exciting thing...
~The First Day of Fall ~


I made this guy last year. I am excited for the fall and look forward to hitting the thrift shop or yard sales to get the pieces for this year's scarecrow. I'll keep you posted (no pun intended).

~Dee

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

My Motto lately

Every morning I drink a warm cup of organic green tea. The tags have a thought printed and some are really good. This is my motto now...

" The Fool in a hurry drinks his tea with a fork."
This is so true. I certainly can't enjoy my tea if I'm in a hurry...yep speaking from experience on that one :-\

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Labor Day



We went on a family outing for Labor Day to Westville. It is a town that there motto is "Everyday is 1850 here." The workers live in a nearby town and come to "work" everday, kids are there if there is no school or they are homeschooled.

There I met Ms. Jeanette. She took the time to teach me how to repair my Grandmother's handwoven rugs (by hand since I don't have the loom). It was so fascinating. She offered to teach me more if I come back some day. I can volunteer and just "hang out" and learn. How fun!! My husband was so excited for me he is trying to figure out how I could come up there often, it's an hour away :-(

Check out the loom. It is real, it works and is all handmade. Ms Jeaneatte says she can make one set of curtains in one day. Wow! Can you imagine today with all the "things" we squish in our days trying to handmake things for our home and family. No wonder there was less stress then. We do to much busy stuff and not enough time with a gift the Lord has given us, Family time.

~Dee

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Exciting News


My dear husband and I have discussed the idea of me getting back to blogging. God showed me I had some lessons to learn regarding time and getting lost in to many others' blogs. This took me away from my husband, our home and our family. It also took my focus off of God and what he has planned for me.

For now my posts will be sporatic since I have been working on developing a crafting business for a few weeks. I continue to have many people request these little Angel bears I make from polymer clay (boys and girls). So right now I am focused on filling current orders. I plan to revamp my blog and center it around God, family, homesteading, and natural health. Please pop in now and then I would love to hear from you.

May God bless you with His Grace and Mercy today.
~Dee

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Treasures Found


I had to post my treasures I found today at a boutique I like to shop at. I found REAL Minnetonka boots. There black and fully lined, very little wear for $15.00. I had gone back for 3 weeks looking at them, dreaming of the warmth they would provide for my piggies. So here they are. I love them!
AND.. God guided me over to the gowns to look for a ball gown. Every Nov. the Marine Corps has their birthday ball and I don't ever pay full price for a gown. This year is my darling husband's last Ball as active duty. Last year I found a beautiful one at Dillards, but the price was not even an option. This same gown was at the boutique today...new with tags still...for $50. And the owner let me put that on layaway since I don't need it right away. Unbelievable. It's black velvet with spagatti straps, full length and at the bottom where it flares out there is white shear fabric that is in the creases (?). It is beautiful.

I asked hubby "since I like my boots so much and the gown do you think I could wear both to the Ball??" Silly guy "sure why not!"

I wish you God's peace.
~Dee

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Just Poppin' In



I wanted to post a picture of our new puppy, Koda. He is an all white Boxer. Hope you all are doing well.

~Mrs. Peterson

Monday, June 05, 2006

Instructions...

Dear Family and Blogging Friends,

This is my last post as I am ending my blog. Last weekend I attended a conference called One in the Spirit, celebrating Pentecost. Of all things, during mass I got a very clear message from the Holy Spirit, "end your blog and be more submissive to your husband."

Well the latter is going to take some work, and some prayer. I thought I had been. But my blog, ugh. It was one of those moments though that I just knew....don't argue...do it! I pondered through the day and early the next morning about this trying to understand, or justify keeping this then my husband and I opened Proverbs to read for the day, which Sunday was June 4th. It said repeatedly
"Let your heart hold fast my words: keep my commands, that you may live.", Prov 4:4
"Do not forget or turn aside from the words I utter.", Prov 4:5
"Hear...recieve my words, and the years of your life shall be many." Prov 4:10
etc etc etc, all through this chapter.

So that was my reminder...Listen to the Holy Spirit...trust in God...and put one foot in front of the other.

I will miss this very much, and I will miss you all. I will be leaving the blog up for a short period. But not for long. I don't want the enemy to cause temptations.

I truly am inspired by ALL of you. As I grow in my journey of being a stay-at-home wife, and learn more about how/what I must do to grow as a Godly woman (one that lives by what God's instructions are in the Bible for us)...I will always be thinking of you. Especially my dear new friend, Ms Marion (reflectionsthroughtheseasons.blogspot.com) {{{Hugs}}}

I want to post a web site that some of you may be interested in. My husband found it while surfing through a site called dads.org Please take a look at her Creed, I think some of you may believe in the same things and I wanted to share it.

http://www.spirit-wars.com/articles.asp?id=96077&section=Rebecca

May God's Peace and loving Mercy be with you and your family. Always.

Your Sister in Christ~
Mrs. Dee Peterson (Homemakersheart)

Wednesday, May 31, 2006

My hobby

One of my hobbies...


Saving turtles.

Here in south GA they come out in abundance this time of year. I always feel bad for them because they are so slow and people are vicious. So I like to help them along. I've saved 2 this week. They always are going towards water (there's a river behind those trees). The biggest one I've saved was last year. He was walking in the gutter of a major intersection trying to get up the curb. If you put your arms in a circle, he was almost that big.


~Homemakersheart

Andersonville pictures

Here are the last 3 pictures from Memorial Day.

This is the replication of the tents that the people slept in.


The "Stockade" marker shows the outside border of the fence. The inside "Deadline" marker shows the inside line or fence if anyone came near they were shot.


The replica fence and gate you see in the background is exactly what it used to look like (only just a portion of it). The white building is an amazing story. Evidently they had no fresh water and people were dying from the diseased water. One night during a storm, lightening struck a tree, split it in half and fresh water from the earth started flowing. The prisoners from then on out where given fresh water. Praise God! Water still flows in there today.

Here are the last 3 pictures I promise.

~Homemakersheart

Tuesday, May 30, 2006

Memorial Day

Monday we spent the day in Andersonville, GA. For lack of me being able to really explain it well, I am going to write what the basics are and give a link (hopefully). For those of you that are history buffs, you will love this. I'm not, but there our church had services there in honor of all those who served before and are still serving. It was really nice...really hot too. We thanked God often for the huge trees that we were able to seek refuge from the sun. Let me know what you think.
I have 3 more pictures that really show the prison camp better but they are not loading. I will try to post them tomorrow.

~Mrs. Peterson

Andersonville was one of the largest Confederate military prisons during the Civil War. It was built in 1864 after Confederate officials decided to move the large number of Fereal prisoners in Virginia, to a place with greater security. During the 14 months the prison existed, more than 45,000 prisoners were confined there. Of these, 13,000 died from disease, poor sanitation, malnutrition, and overcrowding, or exposure to the elements. The prison was originally on 16 acres and later expanded to 26 acres.

Andersonville National Historic Site consists of the National Prisoner of War Museum, the Andersonville National Cemetery, and the prison site itself. The park shows the grim life siffered by prisoners of war, North and South, during the Civil War. For more info here is the link www.nps.gov/ande





This is where the ceremony was held.

Peterson family melting in the hot Georgia sun.


This is just one portion of the cemetary. The headstones that are close together are of those that died in mass graves during the war, there is no body there due to the amount of people that died so quickly during the time the prison camp was active. The ones that are spaced are a, um, more normal grave. They have occupants (sorry couldn't think of a better term.) People can still be buryed here since it is a National cemetary.



One headstone of many that a name couldn't be placed with a body. He/she still got a marker though.

Sunday, May 28, 2006

Summer Hair styles

As the summer months heat up here in south Ga, I look for creative ways to pull my hair up. I learned this hairstyle from a woman I met a few weeks ago. After trying it and seeing how easy it is, I thought I would share.

I gathered my hair at the base then twisted it up like I was going to do a French twist, only a barrett is put at the top. There should be a "tail" hanging off. Fan the "tail" out so it covers that barrett then take the tips and tuck them back into the twist. Secure with a fancy bobby pin or small clip (like I've got). Hairspray and you are ready for your outing!

~Mrs. Peterson

Thursday, May 25, 2006

My hard workin' man

My step-daughter and I stopped by to see my Knight in Shining Armor and he was hard at work. He seems to be coming down with a summer cold so I decided to kidnapped him. We took him to lunch so he could get a well deserved break. I love to pop by and surprise him, it's always fun to sneak off for a minute when I know people are always looking for him, tee hee hee. God has truly blessed me with a loving soul mate. I am honored to be his wife.

~Mrs. Peterson

Garden blooms

My squash are popping out all over with beautiful yellow flowers. The whole row of Butternut squash and Acorn squash is blooming. I can hardly wait, mmm the smell of warm Acorn squash with a bit of butter and toasted walnuts. Yumm. Just 30 more days, all good things come to those who wait, oooohh do I have to wait that long!

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

The Peterson thing


Today my step-daughter, Danielle, and I got a surprise. We had changed to go to church today, and didn't know what the other was wearing until we got in my car. We both had on blue flowered skirts, blue shirts ( I had on a darker colored one and had just changed before we left.) and sandal type flip-flops. She was borderline disgusted, but it was to late to change so we both just laughed. Moments later she went to pull the sides of her hair back only to look over and my hair was the same way, grumbling she says "oh never mind!". Tee hee, when this happens we call it the Peterson thing. Just thought I'd share that funny moment with you.
~Homemakersheart

Thursday, May 18, 2006

Old House

If this old house could talk...

Hubby being venturous. Notice the size of Mr. Homemakersheart by the house. He is 6 ft tall. The house is raised about 2 feet off the ground, there were steps in the back to get up in it. Old but beautiful.

Lovely hair day!! Tee hee hee, I love to do these kinds of shots. It's fun to see if they turn out. Hubby was talking to his dad. All is well and recovery is going good (not quick enough apparently). Thank you for all your prayers. I believed God listened as his recovery has been excellent.

Hubby and I went for a drive on Sunday. I wanted to take pictures of old barnes and homes. We got one, but a storm rolled in so off we went back home until another day. This home is here in south Georgia between Leesburg and Americus (45 min drive). I used to drive past it everyday and have always wanted to stop and see it. Now I have. I wish I would have taken pictures of the inside, but my mind was busy being concerned about hubby walking on the floor that was disintegrating. Yep, adventurous "Joe" here, walked on the beams on the floor so he wouldn't fall through. The inside was interesting. Much smaller than you would think from the picture. It is a 2 room house with a brick fireplace right in the middle. Facing the front (the pictures above) the right is the "living room/dining room" etc room, and the left is the sleeping area. We will be out and about again soon. So many barns I have fallen in love with since we have lived here are being over taken with vines and weather conditions.

Tip: never where cute girlie sandals while trucking through weeds to go barn lookin'

~Homemakersheart

Friday, May 12, 2006

Yard sale find

Before
After

I made out like a bandit last week at several yard sales. A new recliner for $25 (and the $$ went to a new Christian school opening), 2 bar-stool type chairs for $5 and 2 end tables for $5. As you can see the chairs got recovered and look very nice. The end tables still need some attention though. Hubby was still in New Mexico with his Dad when I went, tee hee hee. He almost died when I said I could fit all my "treasures" in my car, I had to come home and get the truck. LOL

Oh yeh, I also got a carving knife set...very old...for fifty cents. All the cutlery is still in the plastic too. It was the girls grandmother's set and she didn't want it anymore. Fifty cents!!!! And it's in the original box too. She must have been in the sun to long, but I bought it.

~Homemakersheart

Update

A warm hug to all of you who have sent your prayers. I am grateful to say my father-in- law made it through and is recovering at home already. Acutally they released him 4 days after his TRIPLE bypass. Unbelievable what medicine can do today.

My dad is changing cardiologist, so his surgery has been put off a few weeks. Please continue to pray for him. Though he doesn't like me to talk about God and church, I mentioned "God's will" in a recent conversation and he said "yep". That's more than the past, so prayers are working, praise God!

Okay, back to blogging and fun stuff....

~Homemakersheart

Friday, May 05, 2006

Family


Though I haven't been posting regularly, my heart is. You see, our family has been under a bit of stress the past week or so, and it's not letting up yet. I know the Lord doesn't give us more than we can handle, but I feel I'm on the border.

Two weeks ago I got a phone call regarding my father. He has an anyrism (?) below his heart and above the kidney. Then during a test they found 2 arteries are very clogged, hence two separate surgeries. My dad has never been in the hospital since the day he was born, that I know of. They are concerned because of his overall health (overweight, excessive alcohol use, and difficulty breathing..oh and he smokes ta boot!) His surgery may be next week some time, for reasons I can not explain here I have chosen not to be there, but am struggling terribly with the possibility of the loss. Hmmm, Let Go and Let God...

Last week we got a phone call that my husband's father needed open heart surgery...pronto! So last Tuesday he flew out to New Mexico to be with his mom & dad. His sister is already there and his brother flew in too. The surgery went well, we just wish he would quite disconnecting things thinking he can leave now. This morning he called to say his mother has been sick, she wasn't even able to go to the hospital, nerves I think.

I am glad I can be here for my husband but all this is weighing on me. Both dad's, though very different relationships, open heart surgery in two different states. I am reminded by a friend this too will pass, but in the mean time I am keeping my self so busy I feel I'm running in circles.

Okay, enough of that. I try to remain positive here, but thought I should let friends know what is going on. Just wanted to rant a bit.

I wish you a peaceful night.

~Homemakersheart

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Musings from a Homemaker

As I drove home tonight from a meeting that's 45 minutes away, I was ponder the idea of A)asking the Lord "what's the next thing you want me to do" and using that for a foundation for my day, and B) using a planner/schedule to help me structure my day so I have a routine. I am still trying to develop a routine.

A friend told me once she never uses a planner, she allows God to work through her and do "the next thing". I've done that....once....one day. I did get things done I never would have imagined. But I tend to need structure, no, routine, to ensure I really get things done and don't dilly dally my day away. I know to much structure leads me to get frustrated when I get behind, and I have learned that God laughs at our plans and He is in all the changes we didn't plan during our day.

So I as I continue pondering these, would you share what your thoughts are?

~Homemakersheart

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

10 simple pleasures part2

Here is the rest of my 10, I got busy yesterday. I hope you who read this join in on posting your "10". Please post a comment here to let me know, I would love to share them with you.



6. Giving a hug.


7. Mmmmm, having my husband massage my scalp, and brush my hair. (I've usually had long hair and this feels so good at the end of the day.)

8. The "Click Clack" of a railroad train going across the tracks.


9. Old barns and antique stores out in the country (They're the best kind, you never know what you will find!)


10. Seeing sprouts popping up in my garden! Whoa!

In the spirit of a "tag" I am posting those I know. So ...Tag:
Homemakerang
Berrihead
Reflections Through the Seasons
Farmgirlcyn
A penchant for pens
Crochet the Blues away

~Homemakersheart

Monday, April 24, 2006

10 Simple Pleasures Tag

I'm responding to a tag by http://northwoodsvintage.blogspot.com/

10 Simple Pleasures:


1. My head resting on my Hubby's shoulder, melts all the world away.


2. Surprise things that show up in my day to remind me God is with me.


3. My quiet time early in the morning.





4. Homemade blueberry muffins, and they only take 23 min from start to finish.

5. A cup of tea, preferable Peppermint.

Hmm, will have to finish tomorrow...

~Homemakersheart




Wednesday, April 19, 2006

A little bird


Sometimes in the morning I go look out our kitchen window and a "little bird" has "walked" across the top of my car. He is so silly, but that's why I love him!

I hope your day is full of peace.
~Homemakersheart

My garden time

I hope you all had a peaceful Easter!

I have been a bit behind since I got phone call on Easter about my Dad. Please pray his eye's and heart are opened to God. He is faced with open heart surgery next week and he, um how do I put this...is not a church going person.

Enough about that. Here are some pictures of my gardening day. I love gardening, but the weather plays a huge part in how much I'm out in it. I try to grow vegi's organically (no pesticides). This day I planted butternut squash and acorn squash. It will take 3 mths. I've never done this one before, oohh I hope they grow. I love to eat them!



~Homemakersheart