I have a Father

I just came in from playing with the Aussies, breaking out a 'Chuckit!' I bought years ago but never opened because Jackson isn't really into "fetch." (Gatsby is, though, and Jackson likes to chase him and bark.) I needed a distraction, and being with happy dogs on this crisp, sunshiny day did the trick. We also walked down to check for eggs, and picked up #3 for the day. Yesterday we got four (woohoo!); at this rate February will exceed January's pathetic count of 18 even though the girls just started laying again four days ago. All good antidotes for what ails me....

My heart was broken in stages this morning. It started with the unpleasant teenager. I know I shouldn't take his adolescent attitudes and acts/inactions) personally, but they feel like poison darts to my soul. So I turned my attention to things that needed doing, including making that batch of biscotti.

Then I decided to look through a couple bags that had been deposited by my chair last night. Rick and Brian brought back some stuff from my dad's that his wife had set aside for me nearly a year ago, just before she vacated the premises (with all that was going on, we didn't think it was safe for her to stay). She had told me what some of it was (we stay in frequent contact) – a quilt my grandma made, and a 'hobnail' bedspread my grandma had owned – but the rest was a mystery. After pulling out some miscellaneous items that I didn't recognize from one bag, I turned my attention to another that contained old books. I pulled out the first one; it was my grandfather's German Bible. Oh my. My precious, godly grandpa. The next book I pulled out was his German hymnal. I can remember hearing him sing hymns in German very late in his long (103 years!) life; he had a lovely voice. I also remember his love for me....

After looking through all the old books, including one that had belonged to my great-grandpa, a German immigrant from Russia who homesteaded the family farm in Kansas, I turned back to the first bag. There were two towels wrapped around boxy shapes, which turned out to be stacks of framed photos, along with one small oil painting. Some of them – my high school senior photo, our wedding photo, and the painting by me – were gifts to my dad over the years; most of the rest were childhood photos of me, pictured with and without my dad. I felt like my heart had been cut out and handed to me; my dad no longer wanted even these photos of his little girl around.

That's when I took myself outside with the dogs, and was given a song to comfort my heart:



I feel much better now. The song has done its work, the teenager is acting more human/humane, and I'm getting ready to go outside and ride my pony. Even though he is exhibiting intermittent lameness, Rick said it was okay if we took it easy. Sigh; the hits don't stop, but that doesn't mean I have to.

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40 Acts

The devotional is here (what a cool kid!). To complete the Green and Yellow Acts, I'm going to share my biscotti recipe with you (some of you already have it) and share some of the biscotti with friends and co-workers tomorrow.

Traditional Biscotti

1 c. whole roasted almonds, chopped coarsely (I used sliced almonds)
2 c. flour (I used whole wheat pastry flour, and subbed in 1/4 c. cocoa powder)
3/4 c. sugar (I only use unbleached, organic sugar)
1 t. baking powder
1/8 t. salt
3 eggs
1 t. vanilla extract
1/2 t. almond extract

Stir together dry ingredients. Beat eggs and extracts, then add dry mixture. Form into a log 3" wide (waxed paper facilitates this greatly) and bake 30-40 minutes at 300 degrees. Cool on wire rack for 10 minutes, cut into 1/2" slices and lay them flat on the pan and bake 10 more minutes on each side. Store in an airtight container, and serve with your favorite hot drink!

That's it for today from . . .