Blue Jeans and Cotton Tees

I was talking to a good friend in church yesterday when she said, “My husband asked me to take a walk in the moonlight last night…”

“How exciting!” I responded, not noticing the twinkle in her eyes.

“Yes”, she said, “we walked in the moonlight with a million stars over our heads!”

“Ohhh, how romantical!” I gushed. “Did he hold your hand?”

Then she laughed, “No, we were both holding flashlights in one hand and he had a calf puller in the other. My husband needed help finding a cow that had wandered off to have her calf.”

As I heard the story about the lost cow and their adventure in the moonlight I couldn’t help but think that it could be considered a date.

My definition of a date has changed over the years. I used to think that it was an official date only if we went out to eat and did something fun without the children.

As the babies kept coming and the finances got tighter, I soon realized that my idea was no longer practical.

I discovered that often it was those “stolen” moments in the day that became special.

Sipping root beer floats in the porch swing on a hot summer evening after the kids went to bed…

Cuddling on the couch while watching a movie…

Feeding the kids early and lighting candles to eat our supper together alone when he works late…

Waking up early and enjoying a quiet breakfast together before he heads out the door…

Holding hands on a family walk while we watch the children run on the trail ahead of us…

The secret is being together. It’s finding time to enjoy each other within the busyness of our day to day life.

It’s being creative with the time I have alone with my husband.

Even if it’s a walk in the moonlight to look for a lost cow.

We’ve had a touch of Spring in the middle of February with mild temperatures and sunshine.

We took advantage of this glorious weather on Sunday.

After lunch we took off on a family walk. It was a time of discovery and fun.

Trekking through the deep southern ravines we found large patches of blackberries that we never knew existed.

We saw the ravages of the spring flooding close-up.

We traced an old road on the backside of the property that my husband had discovered on an old map.

He also climbed to the top of an old windmill tower and gave the kids a science lesson. (Thankfully it wasn’t a lesson on gravity!)

We walked through an old cemetery and read the gravestones.

We tried to trace another abandoned road that lead us down to the river.

In the back of the property we found an old well pump and again my husband taught another impromptu science lesson before he and the boys pulled it out. It will someday be the centerpiece of a flower bed in my front lawn.

Three hours later we made it back to the house.

A little history, a little science, a lot of walking and fresh air, I would call it a great afternoon!

As we’ve been working on my dream house for the last ten years, I’ve been slowly picking things up at garage sales and auctions to use in it.

One of my favorite things to buy are wooden rockers. I love everything about old rockers- how they look, the feel of the wood smoothed by years of use, the memories each rocker holds.

Someday I would love to rescue old rockers, fix them up and sell them to other rocking chair enthusiasts- I’d call my business “Off My Rocker”!

But I digress…

A few summers ago I picked up a beautiful oak rocker at a garage sale, really cheap. We somehow got it in the mini van and brought it home, where it sat in the pole barn waiting for the new house.

A few weeks ago I dug it out, polished it up, felted the rockers and sat it in my sun room. It was beautiful!

Until some one sat down in it- whoops- it flew them backwards-  almost tipping them over!

I had brought home a preacher dumper.

Now you’re probably asking “What in the world is a preacher dumper?” (Unless your my mom – who is laughing at this point!)

Years ago my grandpa and grandpa had a rocking chair that tended to tip over if you leaned too far back. We all knew its tendency and sat in it with caution.

One evening their pastor came over on a friendly pastoral call. I’m sure he enjoyed a cup of tea and one of grandma’s oatmeal raisin cookies before settling  down in what we all knew was the tipsy  rocker.

He was a slightly rotund man who liked to talk. He sat down in that chair, took a deep breath and leaned way back -  fixing to wax eloquent when- whoops- he was dumped unceremoniously on the floor!

I never did find out what happened after that because every time my grandpa started to tell the story he would get to laughing. Even Grandma, who was quite embarrassed about the incident, would chuckle.

And so, in my family, all rocking chairs that tip over when you lean too far back are henceforth and forever called “preacher dumpers”!

So now is anybody interested in a beautiful oak rocker? I’ll sell it cheap…it’s a great way to get rid of pesky callers!

I had to share this fun picture we took at my sister’s!

Her engineering husband has designed a luge that takes off from their patio.

Sledders start on a wooden platform and slide on sleds down a snow covered wooden ramp.

Then they slide on to a packed path that goes deep into the woods behind their house.

It’s extra fun when you hook you sleds together and go down as a “train”!

What a wet and fun afternoon!

And yes- I went down it, too, many times actually.  Even once with my sister, screaming and laughing all the way!

But those pictures will not be published!

“O Come Desire of Nations, Bind all peoples in one heart and mind;

Bid envy, strife and quarrels cease;

Fill the whole world with Heaven’s peace.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel. Shall come to thee o Isreal.”