2012 Holiday Greeting

It's time for our annual communique....

December, Twenty-Twelve:  We pause, compose
A note to friends and family, all of those
Whose paths joined ours at points along the way,
A chance to muse with gratitude and say
That we are blessed, our riches not in banks
But in relationships, and we give thanks.
The year saw milestones we’d like to share.
Yes, Larry reached the age of Medicare
And Marilyn hits that number before long.
Our children planned a party and a song
To mark our Forty-fifth, a tale of years
Remembered both in laughter and in tears.
It’s good to celebrate.  We marvel how
The time so quickly passed from “then” to “now”!

Our embryo work continues and we’re glad

For every opportunity we’ve had.

Our clients become friends, and we can say

We’re happy when we venture out each day.

At home a long held dream is taking shape,

The vineyard planted, row on row of grape

Called for a winery and a tasting room,

Thus, months of labor, a construction boom

Of sorts.  But first, we haggled for a loan.

The process pared our project to the bone.

Months of frustration had us near despair

With Larry all but pulling out his hair.

Now that is in the past, we’re on our way

And closer to completion every day.

The project truly is an effort backed

By all our children.  We have never lacked

For any skill.  The gifts that they employ

To pull this all together bring us joy.

Though this new venture barely has begun

And there is much unfinished, much undone,

The end’s in sight.   I paraphrase a quote,

“At first dreams seem impossible” Reeve wrote,

“and then improbable” (we’ve been there, too)

“and then inevitable.”   How true, how true!

We hope this dream provides a legacy

Of work rewarded for our progeny.

Each child, each spouse, each  grandchild we hold dear,

They are our greatest treasure, year by year.

In tension with these blessings, we’re aware

Of tragedy and suffering everywhere.

Disease and sickness touch both young and old.

The reach of poverty is ever bold.

Alongside nature’s good and bounteous norm

Stalks crushing pain from every violent storm.

All this compounded by the lack of peace

Around the globe.   The cry “Let all war cease!”

Still sounds above the ugly, droning din. 

Conflict without, we pray for peace within,

For grace to live in love the Golden Rule,

Through centuries, a tried and tested tool.

This missive ends with wishes most sincere.

May joy and peace and health be yours this year!

Gratefully,

Larry and Marilyn

Our anniversary celebration is reflected on YouTube at

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EfNKhN1JwLQ&sns=em

Follow our winery progress at www.thevineyardatgrandview.com or follow us on facebook.

Card design by www.littlemomentsbysarah.com

A wee muse

As of today, Larry and I have been parents for 38 years. When I was 38, we had moved from East Lansing to Parkesburg to Mount Joy. I was on the school board at the local Mennonite school. I was taking classes and working towards a degree at Elizabethtown College as a nontraditional student, and had had enough adversity to make my studies in religion and philosophy deeply meaningful.

Fran, at 38, is still my kid! Although as a full time ER physician, married 16 years, mother of 3, she probably sees herself a bit differently. And in this whole winery endeavor, I do find myself deferring to her and Sarah much of the time. That's probably more about interest and gifting than maturity. Or not. They also have lots of ideas and way more creative energy than I seem to have.

My how our perspective changes with the decades!

Sent from my iPhone


-- Post From My iPhone

Book review: an Invisible Thread

By Laura Schroff and Alex Tresiowski

I don't remember the last time I was so moved by a book. It's a true story about a successful business woman in Manhattan, and an 11-year-old panhandler and the development of an incredible and lasting friendship, one that changes both of them. It's not just about the little boy's horrendous life, it weaves back and forth between their story and her childhood with a violent alcoholic father.

I think what got me the most was realizing all the simple things we take for granted, things that invoked awe or silent wonder in the little boy.

Also, there is a fascinating vignette when her mother dies. Another thought-provoking peek into the hereafter. About the time I'm convinced there is no autonomous consciousness after death, I hear or read an experience hinting of something else...

If you want to take a break from the heaviness of the day, this is a wonderful and heartwarming story of possibility.

-- Post From My iPhone

A change of heart?

I just read in the news that Mr. Cheney got a new heart. Reading this reminded me of a little evangelical record I listened to over and over as a child. I'm not sure why, but I can still recite it:

"Mary had a little pig and he was white as snow.
That is, when he had had a bath, as you of course might know.
But Mary had an awful time to keep that piggy clean,
for he was just the dirtiest pig that one has ever seen.
She'd wash him and scrub him until he would squirm and squeal,
as if he wanted her to know he'd had an unfair deal.
And then in the green back yard he'd play from morning until night,
unless he'd happen to sneak out and lose himself from sight.
And when Mary would find him, he'd be blacker than e'er before,
So Mary'd get the soap again and scrub that pig some more.
Poor Mary thought and wondered much what she could ever do,
But then she figured out a plan and this she carried through.
She took him to a doctor, who put the pig to sleep.
And then he took his heart right out! But not of course to keep.
And then he took a little lamb and took his heart out, too,
And put it in the little pig before the piggy knew.
When little piggy did awake, he had no more desire
To wallow in the mud again or ever in the mire.
And try as hard as e'er he could he never understood
How such a pig as once he was could ever be so good!
So you see, boys and girls, you need a new heart too,
Just like the little piggy did, the old will never do.
Would you receive a brand new heart? Well here is how you may...
Accept God's son as savior now and let him in today!"


-- Post From My iPhone

Back to my Roots . . . Sorta

When I was a little girl I was labelled a tomboy. I loved being outside, playing ball with my brother ("you don't throw like a girl"), driving the little Ford-Ferguson tractor my dad had, helping stack hay bales ... anything but house work and girl things. I wanted to grow up and marry a farmer. (Back then I couldn't imagine determining my own course and I suppose this was the best my little sheltered self could hope for).

Fast forward about 60 years, through a lot of experience and growth, and it now appears I've married a farmer. I spent about six hours in the vineyard side by side with Larry yesterday. We are experiencing the earliest bud break in history here in the east according to other vineyard owners, and we are way behind in getting canes tied down. After bud break we risk knocking the little buggers off. The kids, who normally

help with this, are off with other commitments, so I volunteered to help. I never thought I would be so actively involved in the labor intensive parts of this vineyard operation! But it's actually quite pleasant, working steadily in the sun, the slow, quiet pace allows reflection and connection to a different reality.

So, the old adage rings true again, "be careful what you wish for!"