Lisa Rector's Blog: Writing and Beyond, page 11

The Most Exciting Thing since Sliced Bread

As my father would say . . . that's the most exciting thing since sliced bread. What? That's because my news is most exciting indeed, to me. I'm sure many of you don't care. In this world, many people have accomplished this same thing, but until you actually attempt and accomplish what I did, you won't understand.

And drum roll please . . .

I'm a newly published Indie Author!
I have toiled for 22 long months, on drafts for three books, and finally, book number one is complete. The Master of Lies (Chronicles of the Half-Emrys, #1) is up on Amazon as a paperback and eBook.

Most exciting, truly.

Don't forget to buy your copy. Christmas 99 cent sale coming up. And to celebrate my release, I will be blogging a series all about my book. Stay tuned.

Follow me on Facebook, Author Lisa Rector.
Check it out on Amazon for the free look inside.

Here's a pretty picture.

Christ showed up at my house today, and I was unprepared.

Christ showed up at my house today, and I was unprepared.I have been struggling with my daughter’s attitude and behavior, and finally this afternoon I snapped. It was not a proud moment for me. I have been working for so long to control my outbursts of anger. I try to live in such a way that the Spirit is a part of my life each day. I have been praying and praying for ways to help my child. I am receiving answers and trying to incorporate changes to make our home filled with peace and the Spirit and less with tension and discord. But we are human. I am not using it as an excuse. I have no excuse. My strength just failed me. I didn’t draw my strength from my Savior. I probably should have just stopped and said a prayer right before the screaming began. But I didn’t. I will remember next time. I will brand it on my heart.After sending my daughter to her room, at which point my neck was so drawn tight I felt the beginnings of a tension headache, our doorbell rang. I threw up my hands and exclaimed, “Now, what?” I convinced myself that if it was a door-to-door sales person I was going to dismiss him in the rudest way possible.I was shocked with who I saw and instantly ashamed. The missionaries were standing on my front stoop.I cast the door open to allow the visitors into my house as I turned and retreated into the kitchen. But a cheery, “Hello, Sister Rector. How are you?” followed me.“I’m fine,” I stated in an even tone.“Uh oh. Now I am going to have to ask why everything is only fine,” the Elder said. “You just missed a knockdown drag out fight with my daughter.”I was the worst mother in the world at that moment. And I had been put in my place.When the missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints put on their badge to serve their two year missions, they become representatives of Jesus Christ. I knew that it was as if the Savior had just walked through my front doors and I was ashamed to greet him. I turned and walked away.They were here to meet with my husband and an investigator for a lesson.I dismissed myself and busied myself with making muffins in the kitchen, the whole time, pondering what just happened. I found myself crying over the muffin tin as I scooped drops of zucchini goop in the wells.Shame and guilt washed over me. I worked through my feelings, praying the entire time for forgiveness. I had made a huge mistake this day and wondered exactly when it went wrong. I wanted to feel the sorrow for my mistake so I could move past it.I remembered how many times I have been taught over and over again to make our homes Christ centered. Would you be prepared if Christ entered your home? Would you feel comfortable if the Savior came into your home? Is the atmosphere of your home one in which it allows the Spirit of the Lord to permeate?If Jesus Christ actually came through that door, how would I have responded? Would I recognize him? Or would I be too angry and embarrassed and turn away?The reality of what actually happened sank in. I had turned away. I had chased the Spirit away, and I was unprepared for Christ. I was humbled as I felt the sorrow of a broken heart and contrite spirit.I learned a powerful lesson today. Next time I meet the Savior I hope to fall to my knees because I know him, because I will have lived worthy enough for Him to gather me in his arms. But I think that even if it had been Christ today; He would have embraced me and held me and forgiven me, because I am one of his sheep and he knows his sheep.
He knows me and all my weaknesses and exactly what lessons I need to learn.

Women and the Priesthood

Church was quite interesting today. It opened my eyes to an issue that has been going on. Women that want to be able to hold the priesthood.

In The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints the men are the bearers of the priesthood. My husband carries the priesthood and has been set apart and ordained by another man, his father, that carries the priesthood. The line of authority can be traced from priesthood holder to priesthood holder all the way back to Jesus Christ.

The priesthood is the authority to act in God’s name. The same priesthood authority that existed in the original Church established by Jesus Christ exists in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints today. The Church is directed and led through this authority.

All male members of the Church who are prepared receive the priesthood in order to help lead the Church and serve Heavenly Father’s children. A man with the priesthood might serve in some of the following ways:

Leading congregations of the Church
Performing the ordinances of the Church, such as baptism
Blessing those who are sick

My husband has used the priesthood to baptize our daughters and confirm the gift of the Holy Ghost upon them. He has given them blessings of healing and blessings of comfort. When they were born he also gave them a baby blessing. My husband has been able to give me blessings of healing and comfort as well.

In various callings in the church my husband has used his priesthood to bless others. Right now he serves as Ward Mission Leader, which is a calling that works closely with the missionaries and helps teach others about the gospel of Jesus Christ. In the past, he served as a councilor over the young men's program, and has been a great example to some wonderful youth. Every calling that comes to my husband has been extended through the priesthood. He has been set apart and been given authority to act for Jesus Christ in his behalf.

Women in our church also receive callings in which we are set apart by the priesthood. We do not carry the priesthood, but we are given authority and stewardship over our portion. In the past, I have served as a teacher in the Relief Society (women's organization). I was set apart by hands laid on my head. By being set apart in my calling, I had the authority as the teacher to lead the class in a spiritual discussion  under the direction of the priesthood. It was most definitely a great undertaking, but each month as I prepared my lesson, I could feel the guidance of the spirt and was able to prepare my lessons to meet the needs of the sisters.

Never once have I ever wanted to hold the priesthood. Being a women is such a divine calling in its self, that I could not imagine wanting to shoulder the great responsibility of carrying the priesthood. I am a daughter of God. I have already made sacred covenants at baptism to stand as a witness of God at all times, in all things, and in all places, even unto death. I am a mother, the hardest and most divine calling there is. I am equally yoked with my husband. We have a sacred responsibility to raise our children together. We have been married in the temple of The Lord, sealed for time and all eternity by the power of the priesthood. What more could I want? I am so blessed. My testimony of the Savior Jesus Christ is my sure foundation.

The men can have the priesthood because they use it to serve the rest of us. I am blessed by my husband. I am blessed by my faith in Jesus Christ. I am blessed.

The Lucy Diaries

Day One--March 31, 2014--Two and a half monthsAs I type this my arms are exhausted, my shoulders ache, and my back is all seized up. I can hardly move—all this from day one with Lucy. I forgot how tiring it is to take care of a baby. My youngest will be eight in two short weeks. All I can think is: I am so glad I had my babies when I was younger.As the sun was coming up, Lucy arrived. All smiles and cooing, I laid her on her play mat, and the girls entertained her for ninety minutes. Then I worked some baby magic, showing the girls how to coax Lucy to sleep. I stroked her head and whispered baby mumbo jumbo. A little da da da and a few strokes down her nose, makes Lucy’s eyelids very heavy. For a while the girls watched Luce sleep, but I then I shooed them off to get ready for school. Lucy did not like the car pool line. Jill kept her from crying on the way to school. But as soon as they got out of the car, poor Lucy starts wailing. The line was backed up by ten cars because the traffic was busy on the street. She cried the whole seven minutes it took to get moving. Eventually the van rolled steadily down the road, which Lucy was quite fond of. When I finally backed into the driveway and slid the side door open, Luce was hiccoughing. Under each eye was a puddle of tear drops. The most adorable sad thing I have ever seen.The morning progressed, and I learned that Lucy has about a twenty minute attention span before she wants to do something else. Swing—good—it let me get the laundry folded. She talks and giggles, happy as can be. I have never seen a baby so excited to talk to herself. Oh, but the twenty minutes are up, let’s move on. Play mat again, yes, I did Pilates while Luce wiggled next to me. She worked herself into a short snooze. Again only twenty minutes. But I was able to whip up some banana muffins.The morning was going smoothly. I was getting some things done. I decided to take a walk with my friend. So Lucy came along. Oye, I forgot how heavy babies are. Lucy slept and bobbled along in the baby carrier strapped to my chest. It was a fine 60 degrees out with a little wind. I huffed and puffed from Lucy’s added weight. I broke a sweat, and by the time we were done our walk, I was done. Yep, that was it for me.We came home and hung out in the yard for fifteen minutes. Lucy liked the bright sunlight and the pretty grass and blue sky. It was two o’clock now. Two more hours until mommy comes to get Luce. It was a long two hours.Lucy didn’t want to go back to sleep just yet. But she was getting tired. We rocked and bounced and swayed in my arms. At this point I was praying that I would be able to make it the next two hours. Oh how my arms did ache and my back pinched. Luckily, at Luce’s three o’clock feeding she drank herself into a drunken stupor. I slumped down in the arm chair with Lucy curled up in my arms for forty minutes. I think I was in a twilight sleep for ten minutes, but baby girl was zonked, in a deep and heavy sleep. I thought, yes, I finally wore her out, but it was Lucy that had worn me out.I had to wake Lucy Lu to get the girls from school. But we were all smiles when mommy came twenty minutes later, all happy exhausted smiles. Oh wait, that was just me. Lucy was kicking and laughing and talking like she hadn’t worn me out all day.

They are Confused

I had the opportunity to sit at Walmart and listen to the 700 Club while my oil was being changed. I had never watched this show before, didn't even know it was about religion. But the TV in the little room only had one channel and that was what was on.

The old gentleman on the screen talking had such really bad makeup. His skin was beyond any natural color. Not even tan, but just creepy, bad, makeup job. So it intrigued me, and I started listening.

The speaker and some other lady, forgive me, I do not know their names, started answering email questions from viewers. One message was from a man that asked: I thought God's love was unconditional. But I heard a pastor say that it is not, and I had been taught otherwise. Which is correct? (That was paraphrased of course.)

I thought, this ought to be good. I knew the answer, because of how I had been taught, and I know what is true.

The man, maybe he was a pastor, I have no idea, but the first thing he goes to say is: God is love, and he kept going. But the more he talked, the more I thought, this guy has no idea of who God really is. He made it sound like God was just this concept of love and not a man of flesh and blood. We are made in His image. He is the Father of our spirits. Not some orb of love.

But I know that God loves each of us.

He then explained the answer to the email question that: yes, God's love is conditional.

My first thought was, WHAT!? You have it wrong.

God loves all his children, no matter what. His love is not conditional. God, or I like to call him Heavenly Father, because he is the father of our spirits. We existed in heaven before we came to earth as spirits and our Father in Heaven is our spirit father. Plain and simple. He loves each and every one of us, whether we are righteous or wicked, a sinner or saint. His love never changes, just as the love of a righteous father on earth, he loves his children whether they make good choices or bad.

Then the pastor went on to say that God's love was conditional because we have to accept him and say we follow Him and Jesus Christ is our savior. Part of this is right...but he left out some key truths.

Okay what's wrong with that? It is not God's love that is conditional....
It is our covenants that we make with our Heavenly Father, such as, when we are baptized. It is the power of the Atonement in our life that is conditional.

And I know I lost some of you here, because not everyone knows what the Atonement is. When we came to earth, our Father in Heaven knew we would make mistakes. He knew that our way back to Him would be lost, because we would be unable to meet the demands of justice for our sins. So Jesus Christ was sent to earth as our Savior. He suffered for our sins and met the demands of justice so that mercy could hold sway in our lives, as long as we REPENT.  The healing power of the atonement works when we repent and are obedient. Repentance is a daily thing, and we can have to chance to be washed clean from our sins on a regular basis, that is how the Atonement works.

And what covenants did we make at baptism? In our church we promise to stand as a witness of God in all times, and in all things, even until death and to bare one another's burdens.

Here is the scripture from the Book of Mormon in Mosiah 18: 8-10
8 And it came to pass that he said unto them: Behold, here are the waters of Mormon (for thus were they called) and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light;

 9 Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life—

 10 Now I say unto you, if this be the desire of your hearts, what have you against being baptized in the name of the Lord, as a witness before him that ye have entered into a covenant with him, that ye will serve him and keep his commandments, that he may pour out his Spirit more abundantly upon you?

And the second thing that is wrong with what the pastor implied is: that all we have to do is say we accept Jesus as our Savior. Not a word was said about repentance or being OBEDIENT.

Obedience is an eternal principle. If we want God to keep his promises to us, then we need to keep our promises to Him. Heavenly Father has promised us many blessings in this life and in the life to come if we are obedient, repent, and endure to the end of our lives faithful.

Okay, so this is a deep post, and I am sure not all of you understand what I am getting at. But you don't need to understand all of it to know that: OUR HEAVENLY FATHER LOVES US NO MATTER WHAT. HIS LOVE IS ALWAYS THERE.

What we need to do is develop a relationship with our Father in Heaven. And we do that by praying to him, reading his holy scriptures, and having faith in Jesus Christ. Then you can understand the love that he has for you. And you will know this by the power of the Holy Spirit. You can pray and feel it in your heart, and you will know.

I leave you with words of a great Book of Mormon prophet, Moroni:
And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.
And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.

And of course he was talking about the Book of Mormon, but we can pray to understand any gospel truths and learn the truth for ourselves by the confirmation of the spirit.

One final thought: I did not feel the spirit while the pastor on TV was speaking. I received no confirmation that his words were true. In fact, they left me confused and disheartened. What does that say?

A Bit Introspective

So today I took another introspective drive up to my mother's house. The sky was gray and threatening to rain on the trip up, so I took that as a good sign. I put in my CD The Two Towers once again. The ride up was unremarkable until the ride home.
The music of the Lord of The Rings has a way of slowing things down and making one aware of the passing of time. As my tires rolled off the mountain into the quiet town of Thurmont, I passed a yard with a little ornamental maple tree. Now the trees on the mountain would not change their leaves for weeks, but around the base of this little tree were tiny yellow leaves. It hit me that summer was wrapping up to a close and the Autumn would soon come quietly, in all its blaze of color. How many Autumns have I seen in my life? A few enough, but how many could I remember? Time became very slow in this moment.
I considered how things were constantly changing in life, how my children were growing, and how I was constantly rushing around. It has always bothered me that the world runs by a clock. Why must I rush about everywhere?
And as I continued my drive, pulling onto the highway, big heavy rain drops started to fall in large splatters on my windshield. It was as if the angels were weeping, sopping, fitful tears. Perhaps they were crying for the passage of time that rolls on, for I too felt it. Soon enough the large sloppy splatters turned into a gentle rainfall as if the angels were saying they were sorry for the outburst, and now these were tears of peace and tranquility.
The music brought my mind to kingdoms and battles fought. My mind lately has been on the Kingdom of Heaven and the noble and great ones that have fought in the wars of Heaven. How with the passing of time, the valiant still fight against evil. The fight for Middle Earth may be a fictional tale, but it echos the same tragic yet hopeful story of time. All ages everywhere fight for something.
The passing of time may move slowly at times or it may speed up. But we control what we do each minute and we can stand steadfast in our place in time. We can be the valiant warrior, or the humble hobbit. I find peace in knowing that everything has its purpose and its time and place. We can move through life purposefully, which has always been my desire. Days like this are needed to remember, for if we can not remember, what is it all for?

Hide and Seek Green Beans!

So let me just tell you about my experience with green beans. Growing up in my family of seven, five children. My industrious father would plan eight forty foot long rows of bush beans. Each child was supposed to pick a row of green beans. As a fourteen year old let me tell you how I bulked at this idea. The bush beans were low to the ground, I had to get down on my hands and knees in the grass clippings we used as mulch and comb through the scratchy bushes. They made my arms itch and the yellow bean bugs were everywhere and they would get smashed on my fingers and hands, and the sun was blazing hot. I hated it.
Then the agony was not over. We got about six to seven pounds of green beans at one time every third day. My mother told me sometimes it would be nine pounds! So what do you think we had to do after that? Snap them and freeze them. My mother would man the processing, and the rest of us went to work. It was a long task that made your shoulders ache and your fingers hurt. I remember piles of beans on my mothers antique oak dining table and piles of the snappings, the humidity in the air from the boiling pot in the kitchen, and the sounds of the rolling water. We had a double sink in the kitchen that my mother filled with ice cold water and she would lift the batch out of the boiling pot and dump them in the first sink of cold water and then put some more beans in the pot. Then we moved the first batch to the second sink to cool even more. It was a big process and I think the memory of it is what scared me to ever try it on my own.
Well as an adult, I started buying frozen green beans in the grocery store. Let me tell you, they just don't taste the same. It was really depressing. So I decided I must plant my own green beans.
Fast forward to now, nineteen years later. I had in my seed packets a bag of pole beans that were a couple years old. I was going to use them up just to be rid of them. In prior years my green bean crop had been literally only about a hand full of green beans, because I knew from experience, in order to get enough to freeze, it takes a lot of work, work which I was not quite ready for. So I prepped my garden this spring. The north side of the bed was 10 feet long. I planted a row with the beans about every three inches apart. And I still had beans left in my bag, so I started another row only about four inches away and spaced the beans the same. I did this for a total of four rows. I put up one trellis across the whole back of the garden that was only five feet tall.
I watched as my four rows sprouted. I watched as they started to climb the trellis. Every sprout twining around the netting. The four rows massed together to make an impressive wall of beans. Never did I think this would be so successful. My green beans are now coming in. Every third day I go out and pick a pound of green beans. As I comb through the scratchy leaves and hear the mosquitoes buzzing in my ears, I think that I am on a hide and seek hunt. Every bean is hidden so perfectly and you have to part the leaves aside to find them. Just when you think you are done then you find another bean and another. I am so amazed, so excited. A pound of green beans frozen makes about one quart size baggie.
So every couple days I can blanch the single pound and freeze them and guess what? It is not so intimidating doing a small batch. It wouldn't be enough to feed us a whole year such as my parents crop did, but it is very empowering all the same.
I just did a batch this morning and picked another one. The memories of picking green beans will live on. How I am thankful of the toiling my father gifted us with when I was young. I might not ever had attempted such a thing on my own if I had not experienced and known of the blessing of tasting your own.
In the center is a pound of green beans!

What a Mess!

This summer has the most usual weather that I can remember. We get rain almost every other day. Sometimes I wake in the morning and the ground is wet from a rain during the night. I am just thankful that I have not had to do much watering this summer, except that one dreadful week. My little pine still has some brown spots, though I trimmed a lot off, it needs another trimming. I think that since I am over the shock of its injury I can get on with the final trim and she can start on the healing.
Last night we received a torrential downpour with distant thunder and lightning. I find it so refreshing to hear it pounding on the roof and the ground, drowning out the sounds of everything else in the world. Wake up to bird bathes filled and a wet drooping garden. Everything that I have in my garden seems to need staking at one point of another. It doesn't help that most of my plants are drought tolerant and all this rains makes them droop from heaviness--the plants suck up too much of the moisture. So everything is sodden and sad.
The wetness makes dark days feel like I am living in a marsh. I went out today and stepped through the soaked grass and let the mosquitoes bite my arms, they seem to think it a bog as well. If our climate is going to become more tropical I will have to change my garden scheming.
I already have plans in place to add more shrubs. I find that with my increasing health issues that is the best low maintenance way. I have this spot in my backyard that is shrouded by the branches of my neighbors mulberry tree. She drops her stinking berries in this dreaded spot where I have tried to make a lovely garden and really it is just a fermenting, bug filled mess. So I have plans to relocate many of the perennials and rake it smooth and plant grass. This will help with all the hidden craggy places the mosquitoes like to breed. Next to this garden was an old shed platform that my husband finally pulled out. He had to cut away the plywood boards and dig up the old beams. Underneath revealed an old ground hog tunnel that we had long ago sealed off. This too will become lawn--nothing does well in that forsaken corner.
So my motto has become--simplify, whereas before I was obsessed with order and every little plant in its place. Simply put, you can not control how your garden grows no matter how much you try. They plants will either grow too big, droop or die off or look lovely for a few weeks and they brown the next. I learn to take it as it comes and still find beauty as it is.
Several days ago the American Gold Finch found her way back to my yard as they do every year at this time to find the seed heads of my purple cone flowers and monarda. I leave the heads just for them. My naked ladies have come out with almost my missing them, I was hibernating several days indoors and when I peered out one morning suddenly they were there.
So my zucchini is done. The vine borers finally sucked them dry, I ripped them out and threw them in the compost. The vine borers always get the zukes first. Now just today I saw that they are moving on to my yellow squash. I am not concerned as I have gotten so many squash that I am giving them away. I have a volunteer pumpkin in my compost that I am wondering why it just does not bare fruit, as it has spread all over. Everyday I find another cantaloupe, alas the one I just cut was not very sweet. Perhaps that is because of all the rain. Well with weather what ever comes must come.
Next year I have pondered giving the veggie patch a rest and sowing a bunch of annuals. I really do not give it the attention it deserves. With my laxity I came out to find another mammoth squash, sigh.
It might be fun to consider tucking some of my veggies in the flower beds. I wonder if doing that would confuse the squash beetles.

Allegory of the Olive Tree

I just was taught something and experienced the Allegory of the Olive Tree First Hand. (Jacob 5)I have a little Mugo Pine that I planted in my garden this spring. I nourished it and watered it, mulched it and took great care of it for several months. At some point I thought to myself, and given all the rain that we had been receiving, that my little plant was well established. Well mid-summer brought us a week of scorching hot days. I didn’t give any thought to my Mugo Pine for an entire week. In fact at the beginning of the week I noticed it and saw its beautiful shape, perfectly formed, lush green needles, it looked to be the picture of health. So beautiful with its natural shape that nature gave it.Well at the end of the week I went out to look at my garden. I was peering here and there, walking along the paths when suddenly I came across my Mugo. I stopped abruptly and gave a gasp out loud and cried, “Oh no!” Most of the needles were brown on top, barely a green in sight. The beautiful form that I had just admired at the beginning of the week was ruined. I took off in a run, threw a bucket under the hose and filled it to the brim and lugged it to my pine. I gave it several long drinks of water, but I knew it would be no good. I would have to cut off the dead brown needles, it would probably survive if I gave it careful care from today and if the rains come again, but it would be deformed and ugly.I went back into the house and confessed to my husband what happened and then started to unload the dishwasher. As I worked I felt more and more anger at myself, foolishness and laziness. I started to mourn the pine and thinking that this was somewhat silly. It is just a plant after all, not one of my children. A thought occurred to me, what if my children turned brown from the heat like a plant? So in my anger and annoyance at myself, I found I was starting to cry. I thought why am I crying? Any gardener knows how long it takes to grow a plant, how much patience it takes to watch something grow from a little seed or transplant, how delicate they are. I said to myself, “It grieveth me that I should lose this little tree.” And instantly I remembered the words of the Savior from the Allegory of the Olive Tree.I started to cry even more as I realized the lesson the Savior was trying to teach me, if I learned it the sacrifice of the little Mugo Pine would be worth it. I knew how the Savior felt as he cried those words, “It grieveth me that I should lose this tree.” Over and over again he cried it as he tried to save his vineyard. Digging about and dunging his trees and pruning them. He moved them to better ground and grafted them in to healthier trees. The Master of the vineyard did all that he could to save the trees. I know from study of this allegory that he is referring to the scattering and gathering of the children of Israel. But as a mother I felt it apply to my life.I ran to the bathroom so not to let my husband see that I was crying over a plant, but now I knew that I was crying because my Savior loves me.  I felt his love over losing even just The One. And as a mother I knew this could apply to my children, I may not see the brown burns on the outside because the damage of neglect goes unseen until it is too late. This week our darling Jillian crumpled in tears at bedtime over things that little girls need not worry about. I do recall that I went through something like that as a little girl. Perhaps with more nourishing and care it could have been avoided.
I felt humbled by this experience that the spirit taught me from the sacrifice of my little pine.

Lots of Rain!

So this past month of June we have been getting little shower after shower. For a grand total of five inches! It is probably my fault because I have been praying for rain all summer long so I would not have to water my garden. Needless to say the mosquitoes are horrible! We are finally having a respite from the rain with a lovely week of 90 degrees highs! I mean seriously, it only drops down to 80 degrees at night.
Well lets see, what have I been harvesting in my veggie patch? From only two young blueberry bushes we would get about two cups of berries every other day. They are on the way out, but I have one bush that is just starting to ripen, so these guys keep me picking in the garden all summer long!
Getting plenty of summer squash with a ton on the vine waiting to get bigger. Watch out, I left them for three days and ended up with a couple of behemoths!  Same with the zucchini. I picked one today that I could not lift up with one hand, the diameter was too large for my little paws. I like to use my zucchini in chocolate zucchini cake. I fry the squash in a pan with lots of butter and pepper.
I planted pole beans again this year. I only gave them a five foot trellis to climb up, well, I think they are about ten feet tall, they just climb to the top and then fall to the ground and keep growing. I am just starting to harvest the beans.
Very excited that I have three cantaloupes. One is growing in mid air. They are starting to crawl up the trellis with the green beans! Sadly, I can never get my watermelon to do anything and my pumpkin vines are dying.
The raspberries I transplanted in the spring are making their comeback. They have beautiful, new green foliage. They should make lot of berries next year.
My flower gardens seem kind of boring right now. Just Purple Coneflowers, Yellow Coneflowers and Russian Sage as the stars right now. Next year I need to add some white daisies.
We did a couple things with some random pavers I picked up from a friend. My husband made a 4 by 8 foot patio for his grill.
 I extended the paved exit off out our sun-room by three feet.




I used a bunch of cinder blocks from around my veggie patch and raised my strawberry pots off the ground,(I hate stooping to pick them). I bricked around my herbs in my herb patch with some zigzagged pavers also in the pile I received. (It was two truck loads of pavers)
So I have been busy. I thank the rain and cooler weather this June for my activity in the gardens. Usually I hit hibernation mode before now. Hopefully we can be this blessed July and August.



Hostas
Hosta close up
I extended the mower strip along my front bed with bricks.
Ornamental grass and Russian Sage

Weird caterpillar on Purple coneflower
Thread-leaf coreopis
section of my herb garden
zucchini, which is twice this size now
Banana peppers, My husband harvested and made some sort of pickled thing that he canned
Squash plant just starting to produce
volunteer potato
pole beans, which look even crazier now.
Bee balm
Two types of day lilies
This one is a double day lily
Flock of goose neck loose strife