I'm not always the best wife, or mother, or friend. In fact, more often than not, I stink at those things. Oh, I have plenty of good intentions, it's just that the best of plans get waylaid. I get so busy doing the things that I perceive to be important that I forget to enjoy the "right now" of the moment.
Summer means gardening, and gardening means preserving for the year to come. While this is a noble and important task, it becomes a problem when I have to stop entertaining, refuse to go swimming with my family, or even play a short game. All work and no play not only makes life very dull, but it makes for a crabby person, too!
I'm trying. I'm trying to make time, even during the busyness of summer to spend on fun things. Things that are equally as important as the canning. Early last week I invited friends over for a s'more party on Friday night. I truly was too busy to serve dinner, and actually had a batch of spaghetti sauce in the canner when our guests arrived. They were gracious to ignore the fact that I had to stand by the stove for a bit, and s'mores really seemed to be a perfect fit for a late evening get together.
Autumn and Sophie sitting by the fire.
Mac did his best to represent the non-continental United States in his hula girl shorts and University of Alaska t-shirt while enjoying his s'more. By the way, have you ever tried making s'mores with Reese's peanut butter cups rather than a chocolate bar? YUM!
Saturday involved canning from early morning until 3 AM.
Upon arriving at church on Sunday, we met a young man from North Carolina who was in our area for a Latin class. My mind started racing. We really should have him over for lunch. He's far from home, and would appreciate a home-cooked meal. And then my thoughts turned toward the canning jars covering the kitchen, the sewing machine on the dining room table, and my unmade bed.
He was invited, despite the condition of my home. And just as our guests had been gracious to me Friday night, Michael was just as gracious Sunday afternoon. He jumped right in and helped to chop vegetables for the grilled pizza, and closed his eyes to the mess around him, even commenting how happy he was to see the canning jars.
How is it that guests can bless me when I'm supposed to be blessing them? It's a beautiful thing!