Since my retirement, I turned my workshop into a woodshop as every man needs their own "man cave"! It's really helped to keep me occupied especially while isolating during the pandemic! So when I'm not at my easel in my art studio, I am making creations with wood! Some of my creations include bird feeders, toys, games, furniture, etc. Sometimes, I even invent my own games, including the rules! People like them so much, they want to buy them. Other times I sell them just to cover the cost of my materials. But mostly, I like to give them away to my children and grandchildren for gifts.
I made this combination chess, checkers, cribbage board plus a wooden, lined box containing handmade checkers and cards for cribbage. The chess board is made of solid oak, hickory, and aspen wood, measures 18 x 21" and has a lined drawer which contains the chess pieces. I picked out this beautiful piece of hickory for the cribbage board especially for its unusual grain pattern. I am considering selling this special piece as the materials to make it were quite pricey! Woodworking and painting has been a great creative outlet for me since retiring.
For the past 30 years, I have had the pleasure of living amidst the pristine beauty of an ancient oak forest on a bluff over-looking the Cedar River. Many of these enormous trees are 100 years old or older. One pleasant day, as I was relaxing on the patio, I looked up at them towering above me, and I wondered what they might have endured during their long lives. I found myself studying the form of one old giant and, as my gaze flowed up this particular tree, I noticed some strong, straight branches as well as some limbs that were gnarled and contorted. I imagined the years of tempests and drought as well as seasons of nourishing sun and rain that had caused it to develop this unique form. I was suddenly struck with the notion that it is not so different for us. In our lives there will be times of sweetness and harmony and other times when we struggle with the storms of life. As growing Christians, our faith assures us that there is hope through Christ as is written in John 16:33, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world" (NIV). And as my gaze continued up past the gnarled, crooked branches to the very tops, I saw the crown of glorious foliage adorning each tree; fresh and renewed. After considering this analogy of the trees, I was moved to compose this poem.
Lessons of the Trees
I sit beneath ancient trees.
Their limbs, gnarled with age,
Tower over me,
Casting strange shadows
here and there.
What tragedies of time
Have they endured
To have grown so old
And so twisted?
Yet there is a beauty in their canopy
High over head,
As they spread their arms eagerly
Into the the endless expanse of sky.
Reaching for the warm reassurance
Of the Light.
In 2015 Evie and I, along with a few other members of
the congregation, ventured off to Scotland for a week at
the Iona Abbey. After our week there, our itinerary
included a few days of "make like a tourist time." Our
last nights were spent at a mountain inn near Glencoe,
Scotland. When we first arrived, I spotted a Red Deer
(what a treat) in the timber near the parking lot; however,
the trees were too dense to get a clean photo. Rather than
take a trip to Edinburgh on our second day, Evie and I
opted for a day of R&R at the inn. This provided the
opportunity to meander through some of the forest with
my camera. A slow, steady rain greeted me that morning.
I still went wandering, dressed in rain gear. Near a creek
bed the forest ended. I spotted two of the deer on a flat grassy area. They were grazing in and out of the forest and
were slowly coming my direction. With no place to go and nothing better to do I waited about an hour in the rain.
The wait was well worth it. Later in the afternoon with the the sun shining, I captured a couple younger ones in the
creek bed area. Of the close to 7000 shots I took while on the trip, this one is in my top five favorite.
It was the first evening of the writer's retreat and the weather was beautiful so I was determined to be outside and walk. After I just sat down to write, to start something for the weekend:
Went walking on a
stone labyrinth at 5 pm
sharp,
went looking for
the sunset with
My eye
I found mine
Turned to the ground,
Stone after stone
Stepping slower,
Winding back
Breathing with
each motion forward.
My thoughts spider out
as I hear a boat purr
and a leaf blower roar
jetting out across
the green blue lake as
I trace my way back
And the sound is done.
During the early days of the pandemic shutdown, I spent my time sewing masks to donate. While waiting for a new shipment of elastic, I found tshirt squares my daughter, Kati had cut to make a quilt. I decided to work on her quilt until the elastic arrived. Since we weren't shopping, and because I have a large stash of fabric, I used only materials I had at home. I call it my "Pandemic Quilt". It will be presented to Kati and her husband when I see them again.
Previously, I made 2 graduation tshirt quilts, a quilt I donated to homeless children as a fundraiser, and another quilt for Kati's wedding. I have another graduation quilt to make for a niece, then hope to make one for myself and a tshirt quilt with shirts from many years of coaching for my hubby.
In addition to these quilt projects, while hunting for mask fabric, I found a box of quilt squares my mom made many years ago as part of a class she was taking. Each 18 inch square is a different quilt design. The squares need to be put together and then quilted. I don't have the skill or patience to hand quilt the remaining squares to match her beautiful handiwork, but want to put it together so that she can enjoy her work.
Though I have sewn since I was in junior high school, my quilt projects are a new adventure for me.
I love listening to music from the 1900's, the whole century. I have accumulated an eclectic assortment of records, 8-tracks, cassettes, and CDs which I listen to often. Imagine my surprise a few years ago when we returned home one day from running errands and I spotted something in the driveway. . . pieces of an antique Brunswick-Balke-Collender console gramophone...circa 1925...a wind-up 78 RPM record player. It was a basket case with a note that said "if you can put this back together and make it work, you can have it." I had no experience with these types of machines but accepted the challenge. It needed a replacement 2-spring motor. I was very fortunate to eventually find one on Ebay. The wooden grille with its ornate scroll work was broken to bits. Using the various pieces as a guide, a local wood crafter made me an exact replacement. The parts for the rest of the mechanical and sound mechanisms were somehow all there and just needed a good cleaning, oiling, and reassembly. It slowly emerged---My Grammy! Since then I have found old 78 rpm "acoustic" recordings and enjoy immersing myself into their big band ballroom, folk, country, jazz, blues, inspirational, and pop musical offerings.
Do you have a grammy? Wanna share some really old tunes? Let me know.
Among my favorite activities are travel, hiking, birdwatching and photography. While this picture wouldn't win any contests, it does capture all of those activities and it has a story. Rocky Mountain National Park is sadly closed for now, due to wildfires, but the news reminded me of the last time we were there, when we were hiking on the west side of the park along the Colorado River Trail. When we stopped for lunch, this little jay discovered that John had a bag of trail mix and brazenly stole a raisin. When that worked, he came back for more. He then stayed with us along the trail, escorting us as he moved from tree to hand to tree, for probably another mile or so; of course, we were charmed and rewarded him with raisins and nuts - and took his picture. He definitely made the day more memorable! (While it used to be called a Gray Jay, his official name now is apparently Canada Jay - Rocky Mountain variant.)
This simple ink and watercolor drawing has profoundly affected me. In November of the year Dale and I moved into my childhood home, the coneflowers in the backyard had just turned brown. The "cone" of this flower caught my attention. In the fading sunlight of a Sunday afternoon I sat before the flower and dabbed in the yellowish orange colors of the cone. I then continued with the pinkish brown of the petals. By the time I finished painting and drawing the dying flower it had come to life.
When Anne Hoekstra asked me to contribute for the "Fine Arts Page" for the
Tidings, she as well as I was thinking I would pick one of my favorite
wildlife photos, some species of birds or other creatures of the woods. In
the process of glancing through who knows how many thousand of photos I
came across the one to the right. As I kept looking, I
kept coming back to this particular one. It seems more appropriate at this
time in history than wildlife photos.
Some years ago Evie and I fell in love with the area of Minnesota known as "The North Shore" and have been fortunate to make trips in all four seasons. That area of God's country extends from Duluth, Minnesota to the Canadian border along Lake Superior. Our favorite place to stay while there is a small, non four star, privately owned resort five miles south of Grand Marais and sits fifty yards from the lake. On one of our early fall trips these empty chairs were sitting about ten feet form a short drop off to Lake Superior. A picture says a thousand words. What is Missing?
In this time of the pandemic, what/who is missing from your life? Where do you feel empty? More importantly, what have you done/can do to fill the void the pandemic has caused?
I have a large perenial garden that takes up the majority of my backyard, and in that garden I have a section just for hybrid roses. At this time of year , I watch as they all dry down and go dormant for the winter. One day, a couple of years ago, I walked out to my garden and spied a bright rose growing out of a dying bush. I considered whether to pick it or leave it there at the mercy of the uncertain elements we experience in the fall. It was this quandry that inspired me to write the following poem in which I discover an analogy to our own humanity. Included is a photo of one of my roses.
Today I picked the last rose of summer.
I saw it through the window,
Standing tall and bright
Above the other rosebushes,
Now blighted and withered.
Their leaves falling on the ground.
Yet strong and tall it stood,
Head toward the sky,
Far above the rest of the garden.
Its color a bright fuchsia.
Almost neon-like,
Demanding the focal point
In a sea of fading flora.
Its message was one of hope and courage,
As if it refused to give up its
Strength and beauty,
It stood atop a thick and sturdy stem.
Hesitantly, I put the pruners to it.
As if trying to prolong its life,
I placed it in a vase of life-sustaining water.
As such, have we been plucked
From a life of iniquity and death.
We can stand tall and unafraid.
The beauty of Christ's love,
Shining from our countenance,
Saved by the life-giving waters,
Of his eternal Grace.
This song - Searching for Jesus - is my current answer to the question "If Jesus is always with us, where is He?" The tune was suggested by the shapenote hymn, The Morning Trumpet, which starts out "When will I see Jesus, and reign with Him above, and hear the trumpet sound on that Morning?" I believe we don't have to wait for the afterlife to see Jesus in action or even to hear morning trumpets!
I like to collect bits and pieces of Halloween decorations, mostly from the 1960's. It feels good to create something while being at home more, and to share a few of them with you!
For this week, we have a link to a performance by one of our very talented youth--Sabina Meacham, performing "Contra Dance" by Beethoven on her cello. She is accompanied by her teacher, Ludmilla Lebedeva. Sabina has been playing cello since age 5. What she likes best about playing the cello is hearing the many sounds that come from a simple wooden instrument and she likes performing because she wants people to hear the skill that she has been developing through the years. Thank you, Sabina, for sharing your talents with our church family!
Click here for Sabina's video.
This is a photo of a set of dulcimer hammers I made. This pair is
composed of walnut with grips of maple. I cut them out with a scroll saw
and glued them together with clamps. The hammers are hand-sanded and
finished with tung oil. The dot on each shank is a wood inlay locating
the fulcrum or balance point. The fulcra for a pair need to match in
order to feel balanced in the player's hands. The striking surfaces are
covered with leather strips that soften impact and mellow sound.
During the boredom created by the pandemic, I made dozens of these pairs
and peddled them on E-bay and from my Etsy shop. But I flooded the
market (which took a couple dozen) and now I'm nursing a bloated inventory. Hammers anyone? :-)
The Man of All Colors (oil)
I call my painting "The Man of All
Colors" because to me it represents the man
whom God originally created. He has no
racial bias as all races are in him. He
symbolizes God's perfect creation within
one body as all are blending together in
total unity. This painting is how I believe
we should value every person.
I chose to share this photo with you today because I love spring flowers! I love
perennials that come back year after year. I planted this beautiful flower in my
garden near the front of the house. It was always a reminder of my dad, a
Master Gardener, who tended his flower and vegetable gardens with the utmost
care. He loved his gardens. . .Dad's gardens, I believe, were his sanctuary. He
loved the solitude, the beauty, the respite from his daily responsibilities. He
loved the hard work of keeping God's plants alive and well. For years, I was
blessed to have this purple columbine greet me every spring and remind me,
too, that God is in our midst. God is creating and recreating us every day. We
can withstand harsh winters, dry spells, and spring floods. We can thrive in our
own gardens. We can be a blessing to those around us! We can bloom where we
are planted!
"I love kayaking! I love being so close to the water ... actually sitting in the
water. I love how I feel how the kayak and I become one ... together. This is my
first kayak and favorite kayak that I've had for probably twenty years ... long
before kayaks were so popular as they are today. But, I have the same problem
kayaking as I do with other activities like biking, running, walking, or whatever.
It seems I just have one speed ... all out. I can't seem to slow down and just
enjoy. I see a lot of things when I'm outdoors, but I often wonder what I'm
missing going 'wherever' in such a hurry.
Well, every now and then there is an exception to my "all-out flaw". You see one of them here. I'm all by myself on the water, everyone else has (foolishly) gone home, it's quiet except for the wildlife, and God puts on a show just for me. It's at these times that I can finally pull my feet out of the kayak, sit back, and enjoy the incredible splendor of our Creator, And not only am I pulled out of "all out" mode, but I could sit there forever, if the show lasted that long. I feel so close to our Lord ... surrounded by His Creation in sight and sound. Amen."