Thankful

Thanksgiving

 

Today and everyday: 

I am thankful for these two men, my husband and my son.

I am thankful that when I announce that I'm going to bed to read, these three girls follow me.

I am thankful for my little house that gives shelter from the storms.

I am thankful that I am gifted with scenes like this by my heavenly father who loves me.

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever. 1Chronicles 16:34

What a Difference a Day Makes

It's been quite some time since I've posted anything. The last time I visited here the school year was drawing to a close and I had been collecting stories and photos for several weeks, getting ready share a slice of our lives here in the Suwannee River Valley.  I was looking forward to a summer of relaxing and writing.

My plans changed as Tropical Storm Debby made it's way through our little town. The rain we had been praying for arrived in abundance. Monday afternoon,June 25, after hours and hours of rain, I decided to start taking photos of the pond in our neighbor's front yard. 

 During times of significant rainfall it is not unusual for that pond to cover the street, but it has never grown to the proportions that it did during Debby. Tuesday, June 26, it appeared as if we may have water inside our house.

 The rain stopped just as the pond reached the end of our house. Whew! Bullet dodged.  Little did I know that scores of folks had water pouring in through windows and under doors. Evacuations had occurred overnight and rescues by air boat were taking place in a nearby neighborhood.  The Weather Channel and crew arrived. When Jim Cantore comes to town the news is not good! Sinkholes opened and homes and businesses were lost. Many of our friends and neighbors lost so much. A little water in the yard and flooded streets were absolutely nothing by comparison.

A new school year started  and life has returned to normal  months after the storm. Streets remain closed due to sinkholes. We have adopted new traffic patterns. There is still standing water in many places but, repairs are being carried out and the disaster relief center has closed. I am thankful for a dry home,  a job that I love, and that my family is safe.

   

Doughnuts!

My family has a deep affinity for doughnuts.  In fact, my son's first word was doughnut. Strange, but true.

Not only do we love doughnuts, we are doughnut snobs.  Not for us the supermarket doughnut or the prepackaged doughnut.  Oh no, we must have fresh, handmade doughnuts. In order to get a decent doughnut we drive at least 30 miles. 

So far this week trips have been made to two of our favorite doughnut places. Saturday morning we trekked to Perry to visit Johnson's Bakery, my husband's favorite.  It is a quaint, old fashioned bakery located in the middle of a historic downtown area.  The glass display cases are filled with an assortment of baked goods. Cookies, cupcakes, and pastries galore!  The husband always gets two hot glazed doughnuts. I always get a coconut one. Then, on the way out the door we always buy six glazed nuggets of bliss and cream horn to take home.  We are creatures of habit. 

Saturday before the dash to get ready to go to the wedding in Gainesville, we did take a moment to explore the little courtyard garden next door to the bakery.

 

Then today, when I got home from work there was a bag from Ed and Barb's Doughnut shop on the table.  Mmmmm…white cream filled deliciousness! Ed and Barb's is a doughnut shop set in a somewhat gritty neighborhood of a nearby small city.  We always drive through and take these doughnuts on the road. The place may be a bit rough around the edges, but they sure do know how to make a top notch pastry.  Light and airy…. words cannot express.  They are my favorite. 

 

The cream filled one did not survive long enough to make it to the photograph. I suppose I should feel guilty for consuming so many calories, but I can't bring myself to regret it one bit.

We have a long standing difference of opinion about which ones are the best.  Perhaps we'll have to go back to both places this weekend for samples in an attempt to settle the argument.  Can you ever get enough fried bread coated with sugar?

 Sandra

Troy Springs

Sometimes when things are busy it's just nice to get away for an hour or two.  That's what we did Christmas Eve afternoon. After a quick trip to the market to shop for groceries and a sweep through the house before the festivities began, we went to Branford and had lunch at The Gathering. 

After lunch we headed down the road to Troy Springs.  I had never been there before, but had read that during the Civil War the Confederates sunk a river steamboat there to keep it out of Union hands.   It had been on my list of places to visit for quite a long time.

It was rainy and overcast, but quite warm at around 80 degrees. 

When we arrived I was surprised to see a terraced walkway leading down to a very large spring.  The drought here continues and many of the springs are not flowing well, but this one is huge! Even though you can tell the water level is lower than normal, it is flowing nicely.

The bottom is not visible at the head of the spring. The entrance to an underwater cave; it sort of made me wonder what might be living down there.

As the water exits the spring it rushes toward the river.

This is the area where the timbers from the bottom of the old ship are barely visible.

Then it flows into the river that's deceptively calm and smooth.  There is quite a strong current even though it appears to be still.  

I sat here and closed my eyes just to listen to the babbling water as it went on its journey to the Gulf of Mexico.  There is something incredibly calming about the sound of moving water. It soothes my soul.

Peace.

I also listened to the good natured joking between the fishermen on the other side of the flowing water.  They had gathered to haul in a catch of mullet. I had to laugh as one kept getting calls on his mobile phone.  He told one caller he had to go because he "had one".  To another he admonished, "Do not call my phone again."
  

Here's a view of the spring from the river.

After a bit we headed back to the parking lot.  Up the terraced walkway we went. 

The girls said it reminded them of something from fairy tale.

What could be around the next corner?

Then we walked a quick 1/2 mile nature trail.  It was carpeted with green moss. 

We rounded one corner to see three white tailed deer. They moved too quickly for a picture. Then it was back to the parking lot.  The best glimpse of the remains of the ship came from the display board located there. 

It's always nice to get away even if it is only for a little while.

My favorite gift……ever

Two years ago on a very cold, dark December night we took our girls for a ride to see the Christmas lights in town.  On the way home it was decided that we needed to have hot chocolate with all the toppings, so my family drove into the supermarket parking lot  and I ran into the store while greeting neighbors and friends to buy marshmallows, whipped cream, peppermint sticks, and coffee.  I quickly made my way through the store picking up need items but stopped short when I reached the place where my favorite coffee usually is usually displayed.  The shelf was empty of coffee, but in that spot was a perfectly wrapped gift.  Shiny green paper, a red bow, and a sticker from the local jewelry store were visible. My first thought was that some poor unsuspecting soul had lost the gift he was taking home to his special someone. I stretched my hand out, but quickly brought it back to my side.  What should I do? This action repeated itself several times. I remember thinking how silly I was going to look on the security video. Finally, I made up my mind to take the gift to customer service so there would be hope of its owner locating it again. 

When I finally picked the package up, I saw a poem written on a piece of white paper.  The poem stated that this was for the finder with no strings attached.  I read the poem with its verse about spreading holiday cheer and remembering others.  I placed the gift in my hand basket and gingerly checked out, waiting for someone to stop me and say I was on some sort of hidden camera show. 

In the car I told my family about my strange find and one of the children told us that it really was true; the jewelry store was hiding the gifts around town. In the box was a perfect pearl necklace. I was astounded.  Times have been hard around here. It was the only gift I received that year, but that's not why it is my favorite.  The necklace is my favorite gift because it was totally unexpected, undeserved, and given without hesitation or expectation of a return.  It reminds me all year long of the true reason we celebrate Christmas.  A gift given to all people: Jesus. 

I don't usually repost other things I find on the web, but this short video struck a chord in me this week.  Please take a moment to watch and have a blessed Christmas.

Our Christmas Tree Adventure

Each year my husband takes the entire family on a tree hunting adventure and each year he endures complaints stories about how awful last year's tree was. He takes this ribbing in stride because he knows we secretly love these outings and the trees they produce. This year is no different. We have plenty of  stories about the tree for next year.

On the Saturday before Christmas we pile in the tuck and head to the farm to look for a tree. We bounce through the pastures to check on the cows first, and then we head for the tree line and begin the search in earnest. He has done this since he was a child when they frequently looked for the tree on horseback.   Over the years the supply of appropriate trees has diminished.  Many have grown too big or too misshapen. Some are just too wispy and delicate.  Last year after a lengthy search we cut a too big tree and took just the top home.  It was the ugliest Christmas tree ever!  And we loved it.  We covered it with white lights, collected ornaments, and paper snowflakes covered with glitter.  Every night when the lights were plugged in we recalled the day we went to find it and shared stories about past trees.  One teenage visitor to our home actually remarked that he had never seen a tree you could see through before. The kids dubbed it the swamp tree.

This year, the tradition goes on.  After a futile tree hunting trip to the farm, we didn't have a tree. Then, a look about town at the markets and tree lots, we still didn't have a tree.  So, we took a ride into the country because there used to be a tree farm a few miles from town. We knew the folks that had moved here to start a tree farm had long since moved, but an artificial, evenly shaped, full tree is just not an option for a man who grew up cutting his own Christmas tree.

As we drove toward the tree farm we had hope!  There were signs advertising it.  Yes, they were a bit faded, but appeared at regular intervals, so we pressed on. When we arrived at the tree farm it was over grown and just a few cut trees were in the shelter to be sold.  To our surprise, we were greeted by neighbors who, due to a delayed remodeling project, missed the "town trees".

The attendant assured us there were some good trees still in the field and encouraged us to just hop onto the trailer and he'd take us out there to find one.  The neighbor wife looked as uncomfortable with this plan as I felt, so we invited her to ride in the car with us while her husband jumped in the cab of the pickup with the attendant.  He warned us that the car would get scratched, but we assured him that was okay. As the farm truck spun around a corner and visions of flying bodies filled our minds, we were at peace with the decision to get a few scratches on the sides of the car.

The place was so overgrown; we despaired of ever finding a tree.  Suddenly, the car stopped and a deal was made on a small, sad looking tree that was almost shaped right.  My husband was not going home without a tree today! We waited for the neighbors to make their choice and headed home. The kids decorated it and the tradition is preserved for another year. An ugly tree is a badge of honor around here.   

Harvest Moon and a Trip to Stephen Foster State Culture Center

This was the view from my front yard recently. 

Then I walked around the house to the back yard and saw this.

A perfect Harvest Moon makes me want to sing the song.

I absolutely love fall.  Yes, Florida experiences Fall, an abbreviated version, but it is autumn here. In fact, I woke up to the first frost of the season this morning and temperatures hovering around 30 degrees Fahrenheit, but the temperature is rising and the light frost is quickly disappearing.

Last weekend we began our rambles through the countryside again. We headed to Steven Foster State Culture Center for a ramble through the park and along the banks of a different part of the Suwannee River.  It was a lovely autumn day. On the way to the park we spied a field of cotton.  Cotton was a huge crop in this area at one time, but it is a bit unusual to see it ready to harvest today.

When we arrived at the park, we visited the museum. It is always our first stop.  Filled with dioramas depicting Foster's songs, no matter how often we visit, I never get tired of it. Oh, Susanna, Camptown Races, My Old Kentucky Home, and this one, the state song, Old Folks at Home.

Yes, that is a field of cotton.

The next stop is the carillon tubular bell tower.  This lovely structure holds a few more displays and the park resounds with Foster's music from the bells it houses.

I have always loved visiting the tower. Its marble interior is refreshingly cool on hot summer days, but there was no need to lean against one of the interior walls on this trip.  Off to the river.  It is still remarkably low because of drought, but it is always lovely.

What does autumn look like in your neighborhood?