So very pleased to announce our granddaughter should be making her appearance early in the New Year. Please join us in praying for the health and safety of her and her momma as they ride out the second half of this pregnancy.
Category Archives: The Ranch Hands
The Mag Bath
About that magnesium. I hesitated to add that bit yesterday, but since it is such an integral part of my regimen, keeping me mobile and well, I included mention of it. I'll elaborate some, include a hefty sprinkle of links, and you can explore and see if this is something you'd like to adopt. For starters, it seems most of us are deficient. Symptoms and causes vary: gut absorption issues, low vitamin D, soil depletion, stress, hormonal fluctuations, aging, autoimmune conditions, and calcium levels. I am grateful for my alternative community of midwives way back in the day who pioneered magnesium supplementation. Still, absorption, we are coming to understand, is not a given in all of us. For this reason it is worth exploring the best types of mag for your condition. I've tried many and change them up regularly, just in case. Right now I have a new one that is sourced from a variety of these.
Dr Carolyn Dean, author of The Magnesium Miracle, has a video here which gives more information.
There is reason to believe we can absorb some magnesium through the skin. I did not find that to work as well as the primary source of delivery over time, however. This is an extra for me but it does seem to give special relief to joints and surface muscle. Following my physical therapist's suggestion I began making a routine of soaking in epsom salts or Magnesium crystals several times a week. It was not an instant miracle and I did not rise from the tub healed and whole. I have noticed though, when being faithful, there are more good days than bad and I am able to make progress again with range of motion. And, honestly, a nice warm bath is an inexpensive little luxury that soothes and refreshes tremendously so there's nothing to lose here. Add a few drops of essential oil fragrance and some music on your phone and you have a mini spa break. (side note: I received an actual spa break as a gift once and honestly I'd rather be home and alone any day.)
So that, my friends, is my magnesium public service announcement. All common disclaimers apply. I am not a doctor and do not play one on tv. Do your homework. Experiment. Be well!
I'll also mention I totally understand that access to a bathtub is also not a given. I grew up in a semi-decrepit 1917 house which still had its original clawfoot tub. We did not have a shower then, mind you, nor did we always have sufficient heat in the room, but it was indeed a fabulous tub. For the next two decades we were in and out of midcentury government housing units which often had low, boxy tubs, not given to soaking. It has been a blessing to have had soaking tubs in various rentals and homes over the past ten years when they became less an extra and more vital to my health.
Give First
Part of starting over is establishing or, in the case of a return, reestablishing your relationships. It is important to unpack in a timely manner for your own sake and your family. Order is good. It dispels that disorientation so pervasive during a major life change. However, relationship is crucial and we can bless and be blessed even during the most chaotic times. In fact, very often the best remedy for our own stress is stepping outside of it for a short time and tending to someone else.
Yesterday was the traditional feast of the Visitation. One of the very first stories we have of Our Lady describes her doing just that. She had been given news of a larger-than-life vocation which was to shape not only the rest of her days, but all the world. True to form, she picked up on the part of that announcement that hinted at an opportunity to meet a need. Her cousin had conceived in her old age. There was a baby coming. She set aside the stress of her own life and went where she could help.
Later, I reread a passage by Emilie Barnes, always encouraging:
"The world waits until someone gives before giving back; however, Scripture tells us to give first, then it will be added unto us. We can do this with our love, affection, material things; with our friendship, help, and attention. You might have grown up with a limited, conditional kind of giving. If so, it is time for healing. We are so fortunate to have the ultimate example of "giving first" in our Lord. He gave unconditional love, He gave His life, He gives His mercy and grace."
We don't wait for times to be quieter or stress to pass. There is no guarantee when that may be. Today is a good day to meet a friend or put on a kettle. That's what I keep doing between unpacking boxes: slipping out for tea and shopping with an out of town friend or pulling together a cold lunch with the dishes we left out for easy access on this end of the move so the children could play with friends for a few hours. After these brief encounters we are refreshed and can return to our own challenges fueled up.
The world waits, we should not.
always learning
I caught a Call the Midwife episode by myself tonight. Just a little respite. The closing lines of the sisters' spoke to me as we dodge and adjust to all life brings. Some things welcome, some not. All somehow working for good. Always.
"Prayers aren’t always answered the way we hope, but…".
"…they are generally answered. And the answer He gave me was this: When things change we have to find a different way. Now…. I am reminded of the need to keep learning. Nothing stays the same. We don’t stay the same ourselves. And… all the time the world keeps on spinning.
Faster."
I'm not sure why the lessons of middle age come as a surprise. Perhaps our younger selves so bent on "figuring it all out" assumed a day was coming when that process would be complete. We would learn what was needed and spend the rest of our years in a lather-rinse-repeat cycle of semi-expertise.
That is certainly not the case. Each season brings its own lessons, its own opportunities if we can recognize them as such.
May we make the most of them.
little things
I am sitting at the table in my bedroom (not the bedroom above, which one sister just passed down to another) with the windows thrown open to catch the Indian summer breeze we are getting more often now. It is not yet cool here in the foothills, but there are some hints that autumn is indeed creeping around the corner.
School is back in full swing. There are no longer any little people around the table. All my students can read fluently. They capably perform all four math operations. Instead of phonics we now go over latin verbs and bisect angles together. Although just a few years ago I had no clear vision for how this stage of home learning would look I can happily report it is rich and satisfying, like a daily retreat for Mom. Big kids and big ideas.
This morning finds me, mug in hand, waiting for the highschool football player who was up and out before dawn for his Thursday morning walk through at the stadium, as they do each week ahead of the JV and varsity games. Each week I say my silent prayers that the boys make it through another game without serious injury.
As the years roll by I am reminded that it is rarely those dangers you imagine that are most likely to strike, however. How many times I have told my children. Those fears that haunt you, the ones you dread and wonder over, they seldom come to pass. It is the completely unexpected that blindsides us and alters life in permanent ways.
The other evening I was sifting through the images of home here: dinners in progress, drops of rain falling off the oak leaves, children laughing in the backseat, the dog pulling on the leash. I wondered, is it appropriate it is to share the mundane when there are big decisions to be made, serious suffering around us? Does this appear superficial? Does it imply a disregard or disrespect for meatier issues? This morning I realized these images represent the strategy my grandmother modeled for tackling the big things. It is, in fact, the way I too move through my days now. Those little things are the stuff that keep us grounded in the now, keep us from losing our heads entirely, propel one foot in front of the other. They don't reveal the sum total of our experiences and trials. They do represent the very ways we navigate it all.
We arrange lilies in a vase, season the chops, walk the dog, read a few pages from the novel we are nursing. We notice the cream swirling in the cup, the way the light catches the tendrils of steam winding upwards. Then we take a deep breath and move forward, haltingly or with gusto, as the day may go.
Big kids, big ideas, big challenges, big life – maybe they all call for renewed appreciation of the little things that sustain us.
serendipity
Over the years we have developed a both/and approach to lesson planning for our home school. I appreciate having the big rocks (math, grammar etc) divided into the appropriate number of pages per week. It has also been a blessing to have built enough margin into our days to allow for serendipity to work its magic. That happened today when the topic in the vintage reader coincided with a recent discovery in the front yard. 
A day in Denver
Time with our adult kids is always in short supply so I relish days like this full of coffee and exploration. They know I appreciate wandering through colorful districts and interesting shops and lined up both.
My kids have such uniquely different personalities and interests that you're pretty much guaranteed a wide variety of outings with this bunch. Colin will find me coffee and music and vintage anything. Zach found me awesome street art and we toured the neighborhoods he is showing homes in as a realtor.
We actually had a massive wind storm the afternoon we were downtown so the Central Market lost power for part of it. Wild day!
And? Poodle grafitti! I GET this.
I'm so grateful for them and the time we have together. Never enough but always wonderful.
prom
Our high school boys just wrapped up their big prom weekend, the last for Aidan who is now 18. It was wonderful they could do this together. They had lovely dates and a huge group of two dozen friends to go with. As is the way where we live, there were elaborate invite and acceptance rituals. Puns and signs and doorbell ditching. Texts flew back and forth in the following days, coordinating colors and planning the "day date" which precedes the actual dance date. Before previous events they have done gingerbread house making parties, ice skating, and mini golfing as a huge group. They considered doing indoor surfing this time around but one of the girls in their group had hip surgery recently. It did my heart good to see them put their heads together and consider activities everyone could enjoy.
After the dance the entire crew landed back here. They sang and quoted silly videos projected on the big tv. They played ping pong. There were the first smores of the season down at the fire pit. There was whooping and laughing and also quietly animated conversation I picked up about how, "This is the last time we will…. and next month/year when we are off doing……"
Graduation year is always bittersweet for me as we watch our children and their friends prepare to launch. It's as scary for us as it is for them (very likely scarier) and it often involves a fair amount of landing on one's face and do over's – when that's possible and it isn't always. Right now though, they are full of promise and hope and we celebrate with them.
May they take this joy and bury it deep in their hearts as they go out into the bigger world.
and so much more
"As a kid, I loved to do nothing too.
There were many afternoons when the weather was warm that I’d wander through the woods beside our family home. Often I’d end up at what I called “my rock” – a formation on the top of a hill that looked out over my family’s home and property.
I’d sit there – by myself – sometimes for hours, doing…nothing.
I’d look a the trees surrounding me and feel a sense of comfort.
I’d reflect on my day and try to come to peace with whatever challenge I had faced.
I’d dream about my future and what I might become.
Sometimes I’d pretend to be someone else and imagine what it would be like to live a different life.
That solitude, that alone time, that time to dream – it was heaven."
It's May. Like Kerry explained in the article linked above, I am not making a list. There are one or two big rocks our family will load into the summer bucket list for sure – a brief round of next level swimming lessons and church camp for instance. There will be a few super fun highlights surround by a wide margin of peace and fresh air and wonder. Lots of time for very necessary daydreaming. We are getting a head start on these newly warm evenings. Doing nothing….and so much more.
A Sunday Well Spent
It's been said that a Sunday well spent brings a week of content. If so we got off to a very good start. It was the first Sunday we were all home together and it was warm enough to eat and pray outside and listen to the birds. At the risk of sounding sappy it really is a balm to the soul after such a long lingering winter season.
Suddenly spring is most definitely here if the weeds are any indicator. Landscaping has begun in earnest. If a child needs extra cash the answer is usually, "There is weeding/digging/hauling…."
The teen boys and I spent a week traveling to see their "away" siblings and photographing a beautiful wedding. The girls have started Irish dance again. In what seems truly to be an answer to prayer we have a steady stream of visitors and visits to other places scheduled in the coming weeks. Lots of interesting things to share!
First though, deep breath. Unpack. Make some food. Soak up a sunset. We have earned a springtime evening Amen, right?
Maria Emmerich's Reuben Pork Chops here. So good!
Starry Sky Journal 
