Late Summer Blooms

Technically, its still summer for another couple of weeks but it does feel decidedly fall-like in our neck of the woods. And I love that! But still, I hate to see the summer flowers fade and that makes me especially appreciative of these late summer blooms. Here at the cottage, the roses always seem to perk up again right about now and these blooms on the plantain lilies are making a lovely show.


So...how are the flowers doing by you? I'd love to know what's blooming right now in your little plot of earth.

Sunday's Hymn: Great God, We Sing That Mighty Hand

Great God, we sing that mighty hand
By which supported still we stand;
The opening year thy mercy shows;
That mercy crowns it till it close.

By day, by night, at home, abroad,
Still are we guarded by our God;
By his incessant bounty fed,
By his unerring counsel led.

With grateful hearts the past we own;
The future, all to us unknown,
We to thy guardian care commit,
And peaceful leave before thy feet.

In scenes exalted or depressed,
Thou art our Joy, and thou our Rest;
Thy goodness all our hopes shall raise,
Adored through all our changing days.

When death shall interrupt these songs,
And seal in silence mortal tongues,
Our Helper God, in whom we trust,
Shall keep our souls and guard our dust.

Philip Doddridge, 1755
St. 5, line 4, alt.

Tune: Wareham, William Knapp, 1738

15 Words or Less Poem

Life's fragile resilience in the face of trials by fire and ice;
God amazes!



More 15 Words or Less Poems here.

Its Raining Today...

...and Charlie's not happy about it!

Mini-Golfing

Emily and I went mini-golfing yesterday. Its an annual outing for us and we always go to the same course, located at one of Crystal Lake's parks. Neither of us is very good at mini-golf (probably because we only play it one time a year) so we always go early in the morning, hoping to finish our game before anyone else comes to play. But I'll bet there is no one who has a better time playing than we do! We laugh and have a great time together while we're coercing our balls along the course.

I am so thankful that Emily and I are playing the same course in life as well. Besides our mother-daughter relationship, we are sisters in Christ. And its such a joy and a privilege to encourage each other along, often with a gentle sense of humor, as we pursue our Christian walks. I thank God for the blessing that my precious daughter is to me in so many ways!

Sunday's Hymn: From Out of the Depths I Cry, O Lord

From out the depths I cry, O Lord, to thee;
Lord, hear my call.
I love thee, Lord, for thou dost heed my plea,
Forgiving all.
If thou dost mark our sins, who then shall stand?
But grace and mercy dwell at thy right hand.

I wait for God, the Lord, and on his Word
My hope relies;
My soul still waits and looks unto the Lord
Till light arise.
I look for him to drive away my night,
Yea, more than watchmen look for morning light.

Hope in the Lord, ye waiting saints, and he
Will well provide;
For mercy and redemption full and free
With him abide.
From sin and evil, mighty though they seem,
His arm almighty will his saints redeem.

From Psalm 130
The Psalter, 1912

Tune: Sandon
Charles H. Purday, 1799-1885

An Orchid of My Own!

As mentioned, I recently had a birthday. (I'm not saying which one.) I also mentioned in another post, the guests on my porch and how I might like to have an orchid of my very own. Well, a dear friend of mine was listening! Isn't this an elegant beauty! I love the pale pink, don't you? This one I'm keeping in the kitchen so I can see it for most of my day. Its been in my care for exactly one week tomorrow and so far so good.

Birthday Indulgence

The fact that Andy, Emily and I all have our birthdays within three weeks makes for some interesting celebrating. I haven't had cake for my birthday since Emily was born. After two cakes in two weeks, who wants a third the next week? Usually, I've opted for a pie. Last year, when Emily was living five hours away, we just scheduled one big "birthday bash." Okay, that one did include cake for me too! This year, we had three separate birthday meals again and the requisite desserts as well. Emily made this for my dessert and it was so very delicious!

Peach Raspberry Crisp

10-12 ripe peaches
zest of one orange
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
1 cup brown sugar, packed
1 1/2 cups plus 2-3 tablespoons flour
1/2 pint raspberries
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup oatmeal
1/2 pound cold, unsalted butter

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter inside of a large oval baking dish.

Immerse peaches in boiling water for 30 seconds, turning once or twice. Then place in ice water to halt cooking. Peel peaches when they are cool enough to handle and slice into thick wedges. Add orange zest, 1/4 cup granulated sugar, 1/2 cup brown sugar and 2 tablespoons of flour. Toss well and gently mix in raspberries. Allow mixture to sit for 5 minutes. Add another tablespoon of flour if there is a lot of liquid. Pour into baking dish.

Combine 1 1/2 cup flour, 1 cup granulated sugar, 1/2 cup brown sugar, salt, and oatmeal. Cut in cold butter until it is pea-sized and mixture is crumbly. Spread evenly on top of fruit mixture. Bake for 1 hour until top is browned and juice is bubbly. Serve warm...with whipped cream or ice cream!


After three weeks of celebrating, its feeling like the other holiday season...the one that begins with Thanksgiving and ends after Christmas. I've thoroughly enjoyed this but I'm glad my birthday has finally come and gone. Its time to get back to more normal dietary patterns around here or none of my clothes are going to fit!

Sunday's Hymn: In the Hour of Trial, Jesus, Plead for Me

In the hour of trial,
Jesus, plead for me;
Lest by base denial
I depart from thee;
When thou seest me waver,
With a look recall,
Nor for fear or favor
Suffer me to fall.

With its witching pleasures
Would this vain world charm,
Or its sordid treasures
Spread to work me harm,
Bring to my remembrance
Sad Gethsemane,
Or, in darker semblance,
Cross-crowned Calvary.

If with sore affliction
Thou in love chastise,
Pour thy benediction
On the sacrifice;
Then, upon thine altar
Freely offered up,
Though the flesh may falter,
Faith shall drink the cup.

When in dust and ashes
To the grave I sink,
While heav'n's glory flashes
O'er the shelving brink,
On thy truth relying
Through that mortal strife,
Lord, receive me, dying,
To eternal life.

James Montgomery, 1834
St. 1, line 2, alt

Tune: Penitence (Lane), Spencer Lane, 1879

The Butterfly House

We have a butterfly house in Crystal Lake! I've known that for a year or two but never took the time to visit it until now. I guess I was missing out!! Emily and I have been there twice in the last week! The first time, I was so engrossed in what it was like that I didn't think to take pictures even though I brought my camera. So we went back again this morning and I got some lovely shots.

Here's a couple of monarchs.
A monarch emerging from its chrysalis:
This one is a swallowtail.
Two shots of the zebra longwing:

A fritillary:
The butterflies present in the house vary throughout the summer but these inhabitants are present year round...even during the winter when no butterflies live there! These funny little birds are a variety of button quail from Asia and they live with the butterflies to perform the important function of eating insects. In fact, they are so anxious to eat insects that they gather around any new plant to clean it of the tiniest insects as thoroughly as they can. I found the button quail as interesting as the butterflies!

Sunday's Hymn: Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross

Jesus, keep me near the cross;
There a precious fountain,
Free to all—a healing stream—
Flows from Calvary's mountain.

Refrain:
In the cross, in the cross,
Be my glory ever;
Till my raptured soul shall find
Rest beyond the river.

Near the cross, a trembling soul,
Love and mercy found me;
There the bright and morning star
Shed its beams around me.

Near the cross! O Lamb of God,
Bring its scenes before me;
Help me walk from day to day
With its shadow o'er me.

Near the cross I'll watch and wait,
Hoping, trusting ever,
Till I reach the golden strand
Just beyond the river.

Fanny J. Crosby, 1869
Tune: Near the Cross, William H. Doane, 1832-1916

A Guest on the Porch

This gorgeous plant is temporarily living on our screen porch. I am babysitting it and three orchid "siblings" that belong to a new friend of ours while he and his wife sort out their living arrangements. I have a number of houseplants of my own but no orchids. It feels a little overwhelming to have these plants entrusted to my care. But...I also am feeling like I might have a hard time giving them back. Well, not really. What I really mean is I may be asking for an orchid of my own the next time Andy or Emily asks what I want for my birthday or Christmas.

Meanwhile, I have taken out a couple of orchid books from the library. And I am asking you, my blogging friends, if any of you have orchids and, if you do, what book of basic orchid care do you recommend? Also what type of orchid do you suggest beginning with? Feel free to give me any other bits of information that you think I might need to know as well.

Honey Baked Chicken

One of the really wonderful things about having Emily back home with us now is that she occasionally cooks!! She didn't used to but she sure does now! Last week, she made this chicken dish. And it was so good that I forgot to take a picture of it before it was all eaten!

Honey Baked Chicken

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Cut up three large chicken breasts and arrange in shallow baking dish.

Combine 1/3 cup melted butter, 1/3 cup honey, 2 tablespoons prepared mustard, 1 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon curry powder. Pour over chicken and bake for 20 minutes, basting half-way through. Serve over rice.

Sunday's Hymn: God of Pity, God of Grace

God of pity, God of grace,
When we humbly seek thy face,
Bend from heav'n, thy dwelling-place;
Hear, forgive, and save.

When we in thy temple meet,
Spread our wants before thy feet,
Pleading at thy mercy-seat,
Look from heav'n and save.

When thy love our hearts shall fill,
And we long to do thy will,
Turning to thy holy hill,
Lord, accept and save.

Should we wander from thy fold,
And our love to thee grow cold,
With a pitying eye behold;
Lord, forgive and save.

Should the hand of sorrow press,
Earthly care and want distress,
May our souls thy peace possess;
Jesus, hear and save.

And, whate'er our cry may be,
When we lift our hearts to thee,
From our burden set us free;
Hear, forgive, and save.

Eliza F. Morris, 1857
Tune: Eternity, Samuel S. Wesley, 1810-1876

Rhubarb Walnut Muffins

Rhubarb season is winding down but I had enough to make these tasty muffins today. What a treat!

1 1/2 cups flour
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/3 cup vegetable oil
1 egg
1/2 cup buttermilk
1 tsp. vanilla
1 cup chopped rhubarb
1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Combine dry ingredients. In another bowl, thoroughly mix wet ingredients. Add wet ingredients to dry ingredients mixing only until moistened. Fold in rhubarb and walnuts. Spoon into greased muffin tin.

Combine 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/4 cup chopped walnuts and 1 tsp. cinnamon for topping. Sprinkle over muffins. Bake for 20-25 minutes at 325 degrees. Makes 12 muffins.

Sky View

Emily and I were busy doing various tasks and hadn't been paying much attention to the weather before Charlie asked to go for a walk about 4:30 this afternoon. We walked about three blocks away from the cottage when we heard the lifeguards at the beach calling everyone out of the water because of a tornado watch. Turning to go home, we saw this view of the sky over the Little League field that's between the beach and the cottage.

I was reminded that shortly after we moved to Illinois 13 years ago, we decided that the panoramic views of the sky, especially before a storm, almost make up for the flat landscape that took some getting used to.

A Late Afternoon Walk

Andy and Charlie and I took a walk late this afternoon and came upon this Great White Egret at the outlet to Crystal Lake. I guess he was fishing for his supper. Isn't he a handsome fellow?

Further info: I was about six to eight feet away from the egret and a chain link fence around the park separated us. The photo was obtained by putting the lens of my camera in the space between the "chain links" and using the telephoto.

Sunday's Hymn: When I Survey The Wondrous Cross

When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God:
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to his blood.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down:
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Isaac Watts, 1707, text of 1709
Tune: Hamburg L. M., Arr. from a Gregorian chant by Lowell Mason, 1824

A Fanny Crosby Biography

I recently finished reading Her Heart Can See: The Life and Hymns of Fanny J. Crosby written by Edith L. Blumhofer, a professor of history at Wheaton College in Wheaton, IL. I thoroughly enjoyed the book! Biographies and history are two of my favorite kinds of books to read and this was a combination of the best of them. The book is well-written and well-researched. It is as much a history of American Protestantism in the 19th century as it is a recounting of the life of American's most prolific hymn writer. Her Heart Can See portrays Fanny Crosby in a completely unsentimental manner and effectively places her in the context of her times and the influences on her thinking and her work. Ms. Blumhofer begins by exploring Fanny Crosby's Puritan background but, in the course of the book, the reader becomes familiar with the social, political and religious climate of the times and the changes it underwent over Ms. Crosby's long lifespan of almost 95 years. The reader is particularly introduced to the other major figures of Protestant evangelicalism who effected Fanny Crosby's work. In addition, the author develops an understanding of how her blindness influenced the life that Fanny Crosby led, especially because of the long period of time she spent at the New York Institution for the Blind, first as a student and later as a teacher.

Many of Fanny J. Crosby's hymns were written for use in revival meetings and the new (at the time) Sunday schools. They were intended to convey the gospel in song, a simple statement of the message of salvation in Jesus Christ and the joy experienced through it, to be sung to a "catchy" tune and thus more easily remembered. Some have been dismissive of her simple hymns and many of those hymns have been forgotten but many, maybe even many of the now forgotten ones, have achieved their purpose in bringing the gospel message to those to whom it was needed, even those to whom it was not new. As Edith Blumhofer says of Fanny J. Crosby, "She sang of faith in an age of doubt, and millions grasped for certainty by joining her song." In that sense, Fanny Crosby's hymns are as relevant and needed today as they were in her time.

Sunday's Hymn: Come, Ye Sinners, Poor and Wretched

Come, ye sinners, poor and wretched,
Weak and wounded, sick and sore;
Jesus ready stands to save you,
Full of pity joined with pow'r:
He is able,
He is able,
He is able,
He is willing; doubt no more.

Come, ye needy, come and welcome,
God's free bounty glorify;
True belief and true repentance,
Ev'ry grace that brings you nigh,
Without money,
Without money,
Without money,
Come to Jesus Christ and buy.

Come, ye weary, heavy laden,
Bruised and broken by the fall;
If you tarry till you're better,
You will never come at all:
Not the righteous,
Not the righteous,
Not the righteous,
Sinners Jesus came to call.

Let not conscience make you linger,
Nor of fitness fondly dream;
All the fitness he requireth
Is to feel your need of him;
This he gives you,
This he gives you,
This he gives you;
'Tis the Spirit's rising beam.

Lo! th'incarnate God, ascended,
Pleads the merit of his blood;
Venture on him, venture wholly,
Let no other trust intrude:
None but Jesus,
None but Jesus,
None but Jesus
Can do helpless sinners good.

Joseph Hart, 1759, alt.
Tune: Caersalem, Robert Edwards, 1837