Storm by Day, Peace by Night

The storm is changed into a calm

At His command and will;

So that the waves, which raged before,

Now quiet are and still.

Then are they glad, because at rest

And quiet now they be:

So to the haven He them brings,

Which they desired to see.

*      *      *

At midnight, last Saturday night, just as we were entering the Lord's Day, my Mum entered her everlasting Day of Rest. By the time our precious Lord's Day began, she was in the presence of our beloved Saviour.

I will write more later, but I quote these verses of Psalm 1O7 because they spoke to me so strongly as I left Bethesda Hospice at one in the morning. The weather all day Saturday had been wet and wild. It was more like a day in February than a day in July, and the wind and rain battered the windows in Mum's hospice room all day. I am not aware of when the weather changed, but when the Builder and I walked out of Bethesda in the small hours of the night, the peace and calm and beautiful moonshine struck me. All was quiet.

There was peace and beauty outside. There was unimaginable peace and beauty for Mum in her new Home. 

The weather itself seemed to reflect the circumstances of Mum's day and night.

More Mobile Phone Photos

I know y'all are desperate to see more of my mobile photos, so here are some of the latest ...

What can I say? She has taken over my camera.

And my house. And my thoughts. And our family. Frankly, I have no recollection of life pre-Niseach.

*      *      *

Now, there's a bit of a story behind the following photos. My mum was getting rid of some sandals. Perfectly good sandals, I might add.

But when I showed them to my younger sister (the fashion-concious-fashion-savvy one in the family), she almost choked on her Latte. 

That's what fashion-concious-fashion-savvy people drink, you know.

She completely and utterly, and with all seriousness, banned me from even thinking about wearing them.

Now, I do apologise for asking the Homeschool on the Croft FB readers before I asked my loyal blog readers, but when I asked on Facebook, the comments came flowing in thick and fast.

In fact, I have never had as many comments - ever.

One hundred and two, to be precise.

And it has to be said that most folks agreed with my fashion-savvy sister.

What do y'all think? I honestly (totally honestly) have no idea what's wrong with them. 

No. idea.

*      *      *

I was making lunch for Mum and Dad yesterday, and when my folks have fish, they must have fish knives and forks. It struck me that this strand of etiquette may be dying out, but I may be wrong. Personally, I like to use fish knives for my fish dishes, but I have been known to be a Philistine and use ordinary cutlery for such a meal. 

Is this forgivable? Indeed, is it so totally forgivable that the question doesn't even seem pertinent to you? 

I kinda need to know whether I'm hanging on for dear life to an outdated (like, apparently, the sandals) practice, or should I keep up the fish-knives-for-fish habit?

(Oh, as an aside, the tray cloth in the photo was embroidered by my mum when she was at school. She was 12 at the time, so that tray cloth is around 67 years old. Cool, eh?)

*      *      *

I'm staying at my sister's home right now (yes, *sigh*, the fashionable one), and when I came out of the bathroom yesterday morning, this is what awaited me.

No, I wasn't in the bathroom for long. 

Yes, she was missing me.

And this wee face is what was staring at me as a dried my hair at a downstairs mirror.

Tell me: is she not the sweetest wee face y'all have seen today?

Niseach's First Wash, Cut, and Blowdry

Apparently, I was looking a wee bit shabby - or maybe it was 'shaggy' they said - and so it was time for a haircut.

Quite honestly, I was happy with the look, and given that I'm always hearing people waxing lyrical on the loveliness of shabby chic, I couldn't see any reason for me to endure the pains of a three-hour long grooming session.

But hey, who am I to decide on these things?

One final run-around in freedom, and off to the groomer's van it was.


Actually, I fell for the groomer. She was lovely and I could tell she thought I was lovely too. Frankly, how could she think otherwise, eh?

I got a thorough brushing, and then it was into the bath. I absolutely love being in the bath at home, but oh boy, this one was even better fun. It was deep, so my shaking only half-soaked my groomer. When I do that at home, Mammy get totally drenched. Such fun!

Seriously, what it this all about? I was so glad I couldn't see myself in the mirror at this stage: seeing Mum's photos after the event was bad enough. I think this...... thing .... was placed on my head so the sound of the crazy blower wouldn't frighten me too much. That blower was just a short mini-dry before the b-i-g  

l-o-n-g drying event took place.

As I said, I hadn't seen myself, so quite happily posed for the camera. Mammy says that ignorance is bliss, and though I'm not so sure about that, it certainly meant I smiled for the camera rather than hiding my face in shame.

Then came the drying and brushing. Wow, this took ages. Like, forever. (Don't tell Mum I said 'Like, forever', because there will be no doggy treats for me for the rest of the day. Well, or until I give her My Look. Works every time. Every. Single. Time.)

I tried to be as good as gold, and patiently stood for Lauren. She was amazed how good I was considering this was my first grooming.

I told her: 'I aim to please'.

 She liked that.

Finally, with 5 minutes to go, Daddy arrived. That meant Mum could go outside and take a photo from outside of Lauren's van. 

Three hours, but oh boy, did it feel good afterwards! I'm so glad they gave me this haircut before the really warm weather comes. 

I mean .... really warm weather is gonna come, right?

And here's the New Me. You like?

Guest Post ... from Niseach

I'm going to give you a glimpse into a couple of days in my life this past week ....

I woke up on Thursday morning to this.

And I thought Christmas had come early this year.

I could hardly believe it, because this white stuff had been on the ground a wee while back, but Calum was telling me that winter was pretty much gone, and now that the days are getting longer, we will soon be able to spend pretty much all day outside playing football.

Well, I love playing in the snow, except for one thing: it goes into clumps on my fur and when I try to take the clumps off, I hurt myself. The amazing thing is that when I come inside, and mammy wraps a towel around me, these clumps of snow all go and I'm just a wee bit wet.

I can't wait until mum begins homeschooling me and I'll get to learn why all this stuff happens.

Once I've been dried off a wee bit, I curl up in my corner for a snooze. Mammy always makes sure I'm cozy, and I don't push the blanket off me because I know she likes me to look cozy.

(Calum is teaching me how to make Mum feel good when she wraps us up and gives us loads to eat. Calum is a real pro at this making-Mum-feel-good stuff.)

He's also a real pro at going outside for a kick-about without me. 

When he does that, I jump up onto the window sill and put on my cutest, poutiest face.

And I wait for him to pity me enough to let me out to play ball with him.

I wait, and wait ...

And then I realise that he prefers playing football without me.

I'd almost fall out with him except for this ....

He takes me to the top of the world ...

I mean the actual top of the world ...

Or maybe it was another world altogether. Wherever it was, it was the best walk I've ever had.

Hope y'all enjoyed that wee insight into my life here in Aberdeenshire. Mum and Calum are always talking about how beautiful it all is. I'm sure it is, but I'm just happy being with them. 

Language ...

I posted this picture on my Facebook page the other day, asking those reading to choose one of these pills.

I chose the red one because even though it's been a life long dream of mine to play the piano, to be able to communicate with anyone, anywhere in the world, in their own language would be one of the most incredible experiences we could have, don't you think?

One of the Facebook commenters said: 

"I'd choose the red pill, and then I'd sit in cafes all over the world, listening to the conversations going on all around me."

Wouldn't that be amazing!

It reminded me of when I worked in the Barber shop in Stornoway. When I'd be cutting someone's hair and making the usual barber-customer conversation, I always remember how different that conversation felt if I was able to ascertain that the customer had Gaelic, and we would then blether in our native tongue. There is an immediate bond between people who speak the same language because language is more than letters making up words.

It's more than a collection of words. In the world I inhabit, everyone speaks English and understands English, but only some were Gaelic speakers. There was intimacy and a bond that comes only between people who speak the same language, and I think if that language is what may be termed a 'minority language', then finding others to speak with in this tongue becomes even more precious.

When I was thinking of this the other day, my mind was taken to thoughts of what Heaven would be like. There will be no language barrier there! And, much as Gaelic speaks to my heart, I am pretty sure the language of Heaven will not be my beloved mother tongue! Every member of Christ's family will communicate with each other and the bonds will be unspeakably stronger than those bonds I used to feel with the customers in the Barber Shop. The language of Heaven will be a language with which we will all be able to communicate our love to the Saviour without stumbling and flailing over insufficient words. We will be able to speak of God's amazing glory in more meaningful terms than the weak expressions we can muster right now. Don't y'all look forward to this! 

Right now, I am so often frustrated when all I can say is 'Oh, it's amazing' in countless situations. I see a photo like this ...

Volcano Hummingbird (Selasphorus flammula) in Panama by Miguel "Siu" on flickr

 ...and I wonder at the immensity of the Creator's detail and beauty, and my soul sings, my heart pounds in praise, yet all I can muster is, 'Oh, that's amazing!'. 

Ah, but in Heaven, I will be able to express how I feel. And not only will my language be appropriate, how I feel will also be absolutely spot on. There will be no sin, no lack of appreciation, no deadness of soul to dull the praise for my Saviour, my Creator, my Lord.

I am frustrated with my insufficient language too when I think of God's amazing (yes, there's that over-used and yet lacking word again) works of Providence, which has caused me to have a life that most certainly fits these words in Psalm 16:

O Lord, ....
You maintain my lot.
6 The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places;
Yes, I have a good inheritance. (Psalm 16: 5, 6)

   
What a pleasant and privileged childhood and adulthood He has given me, and when I think about my lot, I am overwhelmed, yet have insufficient words to express the thanks I feel. 

Ah, but in Heaven, we will all have the language to express our thanks perfectly!

And then, I think of God's amazing (yup, it appears again) salvation. All that was done within the Trinity before the world was ever created; and all the blood that was shed in the Old Testament sacrifices, so beautifully yet so insufficiently speaking of that great sacrifice on Calvary. All that Christ has done to secure salvation, and then to have that salvation gifted to me. Me! My heart sings, my breath is almost taken away, and there are simply no words to express my gratitude and my astonishment at what God has done.

Ah, but in Heaven! No language barrier. No fumbling for words in English - or in Gaelic. No frustration at not being able to say what I want to say. Not even a desire to have every earthly language! Because there, the language of Heaven will mean perfect communication, and perfect understanding between every single person there.

In Heaven, our words will be wonderful; but The Word - that Word that was 'made flesh and dwelt among us' (John 1:14) .... He will be 'altogether wonderful'! When I think about these things, I sometimes feel like I can't wait!

Photos from my Mobile

I was emptying my mobile of photos, and thought I'd give y'all a wee taste of my phone gallery.

A surprising number of photos have a Tea theme. Now, I love my tea, and drink numerous cups of tea every day, but I must say that I found the frequency of tea-related photos rather odd. 

The first of my tea-themed-photos was taken in the pick-up, and has a mix of my china mug, the Builder's plastic-from-the-top-of-the-flask cup, and the Builder's arm. Y'all can decide for yourselves which part of the photo is my favourite.

If you want a clue, it doesn't include tea.

*      *      *

Then there was this tea-related photo.

This was taken at a friend's house when I visited with my sister and Catherine and Katie. Our lovely hostess gave herself and the other three beautiful china mugs, but I was given the most delicious Royal Albert cup and saucer.

Oh, she's learning ....


And then, yet another tea photo.

I was in Ness the other day at a funeral. Although the man was not related to me, I found the day difficult for a number of reasons, not least the fact that I'd grown up for twenty years right next door to this man and his family. There were a lot of memories that day, so I truly appreciated my sister-in-law serving me Victoria sponge and tea in this china cup. 

Yes, tea absolutely tastes different when served in this kind of loveliness.

*      *      *

Now, they say the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and the next couple of photos will tell you all you need to know about my love of tea, and my particular love of tea in china.

A couple of weeks ago, my mum was in hospital for a couple of hours, and before she was ready to leave, a nurse asked if she'd like a cup of tea. Well, can a duck swim? Of course Mum wanted a cuppa. My sister was there too, and she told me that the nurse arrived with the tea while Mum was in the bathroom. When Mum came out, this is what she saw ....

Marina said that when she saw it, she almost passed out, but came to herself enough to say with absolute horror, "Mo chreach mhòr, 's ann a tha sin nas coltaiche ri mias" (Goodness me, that's more like a basin!).

When the nurse saw the shocked horror on Mum's face, she immediately offered to serve her tea in a, erm, more suitable vessel.

This is what arrived....

And so, I realise I truly am becoming my Mum. Catherine, our daughter, realises she's only a few decades behind us. She has come to accept that she is slowly but surely turning into me, and then the progression will mean her becoming Granny.

C'est la vie, I tell her.

*      *      *

You know, I was going to show you more photos because, yes, I promise you, I do snap more than just tea. But I think that's enough for one blog post. I'll post later in the week with the other photos.

Now, go and have a cuppa.

In a Royal Albert cup, if at all possible.

Have some Victoria Sponge too. And if that's not possible, have a chocolate biscuit. Dip it in the tea. And then y'all can pretend I'm right there with you. Wouldn't that be fun .... for me!

(the next lot of photos is a mix, but there are definitely quite a few of a certain fluff ball in her younger days....)

News ...

One more post about Mum's birthday day.

This lady on the left ...  

... had something to tell her audience.

Oh yes, she had some wonderful news to share on that evening.

It went something like this:

"We put an offer on a house today."

Cue lots of oohs and ahhs, and 'Oh, Catherine, that's great news!' 

She went on:

"There are three bedrooms. So, that's our room, the guest room, and ...

come August, the third will be used as a ...

nursery."

Bit by bit, the news sank in ...

deeper and deeper ...

until it had finally sunk in.

And the joy could no longer be contained!

That was until someone explained that if Catherine was having a baby, then my baby sister was going to be a ...

Great Aunt!

Great Aunt sounds WAY older than Granny!

Imagine, my baby sister finally may have to grow up!