Month: June 2023

I went to a city council meeting last night to protest a conditionary use permit being issued to a builder of an arena across the road from Corgi Hollows.

My attempt to sway the opinion failed. The permit passed. There will be a massive arena built across from Corgi Hollows.

I had sixty years of tranquil views. That will change.

The rumor is that it is for a rodeo facility. The council saw the plans for a “private use” arena that is huge. It’s on 35 acres, so the council approved it.

The guy on the council smiled to the builder—after the vote—-and said, “You can get out your checkbook…”

And my heart died.

My father-in-law recommended a book to me several years ago, “Little Pink House.”

It was the story of a woman up against a big company. She won the dispute, but it took up her life and energy, all for her little pink house.

I don’t have that kind of energy. I’m just grieving my losses.

Again, grieving.

Yes, it’s just a view, it’s just wetland pollution, it’s just change. Two scummy holding ponds and a manure pit are planned in the architectural plans, all set to drain into the wetlands belonging to Corgi Hollows—-the places where the sandhill cranes nest, and countless migratory birds rest.

I grieve. I may be selfishly wanting my environment to remain the same, but that’s that. I grieve. I love Corgi Hollows.

To look out at a massive arena instead of grain fields is just hard for me.

*crying*

What is most sad is that the structure isn’t even in the code—-it had to be granted special permission. And it was.

So goes the neighborhood.

Grieve with me today, friends. I know we are supposed to live our lives quietly. (Micah) The book of Micah also reminds us that GOD DOES NOT CHANGE. (Micah 3:6)

So even if we suffer stuff here; changes, attacks, slander, abuse, dysfunctional family relationships—-GOD STILL PROMISES HE WON’T CHANGE.

Are you waiting for the RAPTURE OF THE CHURCH?

I am.

MARANATHA!

Come Lord Jesus! I cannot wait!

What a hard week for Corgi Hollows. I didn’t mean to write a “down” post, but this morning I was thinking rather objectively as I prepare for a gathering this weekend.

My mom lost two siblings in the past two/three weeks. Good-bye.

I think back to a June 13 anniversary—the diagnosis of leukemia in Ed—nine years ago. He went to the clinic this past week for a follow-up. He’s well, but the clinic isn’t the same place. It’s been nine years. He did see one NP that he loved deeply since that day, but no one else.

Good-bye.

This Sunday, Father’s Day, is the death anniversary of my husband. It’s been three years. The good-bye just continues.

When I think of all the loss around me the good-byes seem to multiply exponentially. Such is life getting old. Age is a blessing, but one must face the good-byes.

I’ve thought about the best way to face a good-bye.

Is it firmly shaking a hand, turning, walking away with a brief wave back?

Was the atmosphere fuzzy-warm?

Was there regret?

Even a small regret can color and shape a good-bye.

I have had three “shocking” moments in my life. The early morning on June 13, 2014, when an oncologist informed me that my son had leukemia. I was floored. I clung to my God in desperation.

I was working at my hotel October, 2019, the day that my daughter finished hiking the Pacific Crest Trail. My mom came in, stood at the counter, and told me that my brother and his wife had been killed by a drunk driver. The shock hit like a brick.

I was eating breakfast with Cherie in New Hampshire at an organic vegetable farm where my Margaret had been working. It was June 18, 2020. My cell phone rang. “Is this Corgi—? I regret to tell you that your husband passed away….”

I’m no longer a stranger to shock. I know exactly what it feels like.

Thankfully I have the Lord’s help in dealing with it. I can’t imagine facing shock on my own. As a believer I always have hope. Hope helps shock. It also alleviates regret and loss.

Still, there are regrets, loss, and shock. Those are all real.

Life will bring people into your circle. Experiences will also snatch them away. We can cling to someone only so much. Good-byes happen, often forever. It is such a precious gift to have minimal regrets when that loss happens.

But there is hope. There is hope in the One Who provides an answer to The Fall.

Increasingly I place my trust in that One who gives Hope.

It may not look like it as I flounder here on earth, but inside my spirit there is still a flame of hope.

MARANATHA!

In the “Anne of Green Gables” series there is a book “Anne’s House of Dreams.” It is, perhaps surprisingly, my favorite book of the series. I love the characters introduced in that book, the story is a bit unreal and even sappy, but the figures are memorable: Miss Cornelia, Captain Jim, and Leslie.

Leslie is a tragic person. I won’t spoil the story, but she is an interesting character, and I imagined her vividly. LM Montgomery wrote that Leslie always had a touch of red on her otherwise drab outfits, a red geranium, for instance.

As a lover of geraniums I could relate to her choice.

I love geraniums.

I am finding that a touch of red really does have a psychological effect on one’s environment.

It’s such a cheerful color, but one must not overdo it. As I’ve integrated strawberries into my home decor I’ve found that these splashes of bright red can “give joy” a.l.a. Marie Kondo.

Since the overarching theme of my decor is whimsy I have been able to integrate strawberries here and there around the house. There is a fragrance and a boost to the spirit when I see them.

Since the effect is noticeable I thought I’d share.

I need a boost to the spirit every single day. God gives these natural energizers in His creation. He is a good God.

MARANATHA!

Actually today is the last day of school, but I’m visiting the dentist in an hour, so I’ll be brief.

It’s achingly beautiful at Corgi Hollows right now. We have a zillion mosquitoes, but the weather is gentle, perfect for sitting on the porch for morning coffee.

The yard is green, the fresh hay is all around. Wildflowers are in full bloom.

Bird activity has quieted.

Did I tell about the crows who have come to live at Corgi Hollows? Their tree, with a new nest, is on my neighbor’s land, but it is directly west of my kitchen windows. It’s in a tall pine tree, near the top.

I’ve been watching them all care for the new babies–an entire family affair. They must have fledged, because the activity has disappeared. The crow family is training the youngsters on a broader scale.

Still, while it lasted I was constantly seeing these intelligent, massive birds swooping in and out around the house.

I realize that they will change the complexion of birdlife at Corgi Hollows, but I can’t be entirely disappointed—I really find Corvids fascinating.

I just HOPE that the blue jay population isn’t affected too much. I love my blue jays. I need chickadees, too. Robins are nesting at Corgi Hollows North, sweetly, in their favorite spot. Orioles are back. I’ve seen hummingbirds, and I put out syrup.

The phoebes visit an old nesting spot occasionally, and I saw house finches swoop in to a place on top of a light—–a no-no as it is a fire hazzard.

Cherie has been trying her hand at making bread lately. Delicious. Ed has been mowing, mowing, mowing after work. He reeks of mosquito spray, and we can tell when he’s coming from the scent he projects.

He’s wearing a natural repellent, so that’s good. It’s powerful.

Business is humming around here, and I need to rally my own spirits. I’m fighting emotional pain lately. Like I said, it’s achingly beautiful. June. It’s been three years of Lonesome.

Are you Rapture Ready?

I cannot say how much I look forward to the reunion with Christ.

Maranatha!