Today is Stew Day

No, there’s not a lot of cooking going on today.  Just a mixture of stuff to do all thrown in together.  A stew day: things to finish from yesterday, some stuff needing to be done today, a couple of phone calls, a bit of mail, whatever else I can find that needs to be thrown into the “to do” pot.

Like making a post on my poor, neglected blog.  It gets to be first because at the moment it’s in the wee morning hours which makes me want a quiet, reflective project.  I’ve been blogging for quite a while now, sporadically these last months, this last year… which means, I have been blogging about two years now.  Is that right?  I guess so.  A goal I set and reached!!

eeeeek!

eeeeek!

My Christmas mice were back in 2010, I believe.  My first cooking project, so to speak.  To read about the adorable (yuck) little creatures, type “mice” into the search box on the right side.  Or any other topic you might be curious about.  It’s a bit of a hodgepodge blog.

A lot has happened in those two years:  a new baby in the family, a marriage, a son still battling with drug addiction and back to prison, divorce, job changes, good memories as well as things that break the heart.  Just to name a few.

In starting out my new year, my third year to blog, what should I write about?  What should I say that would be of any interest to anyone but me?

It’s a stew day; a stew blog.  An aprons and appetites kind of post:  some memories that make me hungry to know the rest of the story; some memories that make me wipe my eyes with tears of sadness and tears from laughter.  A time to throw my apron over my head and talk to God as Susannah Wesley used to do:  thank Him, petition Him, praise Him.

I’m wondering what kind of memories people made this year, whether intentional or perchance, whether wonderful or distressful.  Were you all happy this past year?  Were you heart-broken?  What are your plans this year?

My sis is planning a big family vacation to Disney at the end of the year.  Good plans.  Good memories.

I am planning on remodeling my bathroom.  Somehow, that just doesn’t sound quite as much fun.

Susannah’s Apron

One of my most favorite apron stories is the one of Susannah Wesley’s apron.  Susannah was the mother of John and Charles Wesley, founders of the Methodist Church, good men.  She was the mother of at least ten children.  So you can imagine how many appetites, big and small, physical and emotional, this mother had to appease, whet, feed.  She had to have plenty of aprons because she had to have done a lot of cooking, carrying eggs in from the chicken coop, wiping snotty noses and dirty faces, hauling fresh vegetables from the garden, or mopping sweat from her brow.  A busy woman.  A good woman.

How do I know that?  Her apron.  Not only did it do duty as a work horse; it was also her prayer room.  As a mother with next to no privacy, (I can’t even imagine having all those children and no dishwasher) she would sit in a rocker and put her apron over her head, the signal for all boys and girls to leave Momma alone for she was entering her time of prayer, her “my space.”  An apron?  In the middle of a chaotic household?  What about “me time”?  Where’s Calgon?  Where’s solitude and put up my feet?

Susannah had a big appetite… for God and His Holiness.  She would sit in her rocker with her apron over her head and pray for her children.  I wonder if they knew to tiptoe around her, giving her the privacy she craved to be alone with her God, to talk with Him, just the two of them together, under an apron.