Today

Today is crisp. Yes, crisp as in somewhat above 32 degrees.

Well, back to this beautiful autumn morning. It is just warm enough for me to crunch through the very CRISP dead brown leaves to the clothes line. Me, being of the 'old school', that when it is even slightly possible, I still walk out to that line and hang the laundry 'out' to dry. Which also means that when it is 'dry' it may be still slightly damp when I bring it in. But oh, how fresh it will smell! With that in mind--who needs 'air-freshener'?

Do we ever realize how much we miss by leaving the 'old days' behind? The women used to meet and talk (surely not gossip, very shocked face--smile) over their backyard fences. And, of course it was a fact that you could 'read' what was happening inside the house by what hung on the line.

Hospitality? (Sigh) Caring for neighbors? Who has time any more? Even though I'm a 'home' maker, and I have all of the 'time saving devices', still it keeps me running to just keep up with my spouse and fifteen year old son. I had as much time when all seven of my dear children were home as I do now. There was extra work sure enough, but there were extra hands as well.

Folding my son's work shirt reminds me of 'ironing' tasks of days gone by. My mother, when finances allowed, hired out her ironing--how surprising in these days of 'perma-press' clothes, or our 'wear as they are...wrinkles and all' society of today. --When finances did not allow, and we did our own ironing, (something we girls were taught when we were VERY young) we would sprinkle them lightly with water, roll them up, put them in a plastic bag in the bottom of the fridge for the evening. They ironed up crisp and fresh the next day.

When living with my Grandparents, there were usually three baskets of ironing. My sister did one, my cousin did the other, and I did the third. In cleaning the collar and cuffs of my husband's white shirt I am reminded of my Grandfather. Grandfather deemed it his duty to always wear a white shirt, even though he was a 'farrier' and a farmer, two jobs which were not the cleanest. Never-the-less, he wore a clean white, long sleeved shirt every day.

My Grandmother always seemed to get something of 'color' into the white clothes. Back then we girls wore 'white tennies' (that you could just throw into the wash) and white socks...except when we ended up with something red in the white clothes...then our shoes and other white things were lovely pink. Was that on purpose I wonder...Grandpa's shirts were never 'pink' to my remembrance...hmm.

Little Ezra's baby afghan is waving gently in the early afternoon sunshine. I am choosing to believe that, instead of washing out his 'good luck', as the old wives' tale says, I have washed in some sunshine and a lot of God's blessings for him. Smile

Well, family, and friends, there are many remembrances, some good...some just remembrances. As we are approaching the 'Thanksgiving' holiday may we all remember to whom we owe all things. We should all be thankful for God's bountiful care and blessings, and be mindful to throw ourselves upon His mercy and grace for a continuance of those blessings throughout the coming season, and the coming year.

3John 1:2 Beloved, I pray that in all things thou mayest prosper and be in health, even as thy soul prospereth.

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!