Snippets...

 To add a little life to January, I like a few green things growing, indoors of course.  My Christmas Cactus (AKA:  Holiday Cactus) continues to bloom, but not as profusely as it did last year.  At my kitchen sink window, I have four paperwhite bulbs shooting upward.  They should be a cheery spot during the bleak days of January.

Despite the cold, snow, and wind, I took a little walk-about with Sue.  Although it started out very cold, in the teens, the temp jumped up to about 35* and that's when I stepped out the door for a tramp through the trees.  The wind was harsh so staying in the trees made it more bearable.  We spotted quite a few mostly-white jackrabbits and a couple white-tailed deer and just one sharptail grouse.

 

Two burners on my gas range won't light.  I've been online trying to figure out why and what parts I might need to fix them.  I think I need another set of eyes to look at the burner assembly.  One of the sons will be best at figuring that out. 

I've almost got all of the family photos from 2014 assembled into albums, but I ran out of space so I'll go find another book tomorrow, I hope.  It seems so 1980s to put photographs into books now, doesn't it?  Depending on the road conditions, I hope I can do a quick shop in town along with a couple errands so I can wrap that little project up.  Then it's on to taxes.  Bah!

I've been thinking about this anonymously written poem a lot lately.  I hunted it down after hearing Ravi Zacharias recite it on a Blaze TV interview.   I just loved how the words so articulately and precisely flowed from his mouth.




When God wants to drill a man, and thrill a man, and skill a man;
When God wants to mold a man to play the noblest part;
When He yearns with all his heart to create so great and bold a man that all the world might be amazed;
Watch His methods, watch His ways.
How He ruthlessly perfects whom He royally elects.
How He hammers and hurts him,
and with mighty blows converts him,
Into trial shapes of clay that only God understands,
while his tortured heart is crying and he lifts beseeching hands.
How He bends but never breaks, when His good He undertakes.
How He uses whom He chooses and with every purpose fuses him,
With mighty acts induces him to try His splendor out.
God knows what He’s about.

-Author Unknown