Announcing Spring!

Like the ruffled skirts of Texas square dancers—the petals of the daffodils stand out and unfurl to wave spring under our hungry noses—to wave yellow—from creamery butter yellow, to pastel Easter egg yellow, to lemon pie custard yellow, to egg yolk.

The flower trumpets—some slender and waxy—some wide and fluted—others round and short blare out to the world the good news. Daffodils are the voice of spring. They shout to our shuttered winter-weary brains, “Hey, you! Spring is here! Yes, it is. Believe it!”

Nothing in nature is yellow in winter. Even the goldfinch is drab gray and pale olive in the winter and doesn’t put on his bright uniform until spring has arrived. All the yellows of fall leaves and bright Chrysanthemums fade and disappear. All the yellows of our world disappear come winter and everything turns gray and brown.

The forsythia sends up yellow pennants on its shooting star branches. The wind comes to dance with her and wave the blue birds to their nesting boxes. You can hear spring coming—just up the road coming closer—humming—not singing out loud yet—just humming the refrain—the promise.

 

Summer will come with sunshine on yellow dandelions, on yellow tulip blossoms, on roses, on marigolds and black-eyed-Susans, on yellow sulphurs flitting over a sky-reflecting puddle, the yellow of a grandbaby’s silky sun-drenched hair, the yellow of promise, the yellow of joy.

The desert and the dry land will become happy; the desert will be glad and will produce flowers. Like a flower, it will have many blooms. It will show its happiness, as if it were shouting for joy.

Isaiah 35 1-2 NCV

Love Those Farm Babies!

 

Daffodils Mean Spring!

 I will speak using stories; I will tell secret things from long ago.

Psalm 78:2

Daffodils seem to burst out of nowhere. I love them. (Notice how different these two types are.) I go looking for them every spring - watching for them in flowerbeds and through the countryside, even where no house stands.

The first story I wrote for publication was about finding daffodils around and old root cellar on a piece of land where a log house once stood. There were so many of the flowers on long hollow stems. I picked too many. I couldn't carry them all and dropped a few on my way back to the car. The flowers were like a gift from some distant pioneer woman. I felt kinship to her as a mother and housewife.

The abandoned home site was like a mystery - a secret from the past.

Later, I learned the real story of the place and I met that woman's grandson, her great grandson, and her great -great granddaughter. Really!

I learned some amazing facts about the homestead. I learned about the log house which once sat on the spot had been built from logs from the banks of the Deep Fork River. Each log was dragged to the site by slow and powerful oxen. It took two years to get enough wood to finish the house.

The family of nine, who had come by wagon from Haskell County, lived in and around the wagon for that long time. They endured some miserable weather while they built a chicken coop and shed and planted crops. Later, the patriarch of the family invested in the building of a schoolhouse for the community. The Evening Star School was born in 1913.

In 1930, when a larger school building was built of brick, the old schoolhouse was sold and moved by a team of mules to the land I now live on. (Really again!) Another small house and a porch and second story were added. So, here I am living in the Evening Star School and it is a school again for my children. I love the stories of real pioneers and at last I am a part of one.

We hosted a pioneer camp here one fall for the homeschooled children. We cooked our pioneer meals outside on the fire, washed on a washboard, dyed cloth, ground corn, and made cornhusk dolls.We used an old metal shed we found on the back of the acreage as a "one room schoolhouse," where students figured and practiced spelling on slates. When we told the story of the house to the students, one little boy was thrilled. "Awesome, Mrs. Hollis," he piped up, "Your house is history!"

Keep your eyes open for daffodils and you'll find spring and maybe a story too!

Snow Bell

The Noble Snowbell

The farm bell froze in place during the last winter storm. Ice coated the pull rope and snow formed a dome on the housing. Icicles hung from the rim. The bell would not ring.

The grandchildren love our farm bell. We let them have a chance to sound it to call Grandpa in from the orchard or the older kids from the creek. Some of them can't reach the pull rope yet so we hold them up or have them stand on a lawn chair. The sound often startles them; they never expect such a BIG sound. But the word bell comes from the word bellow and we moms have all heard one or two of those.

Perhaps we have been the ones bellowing!

The frozen snow bell didn't make a sound. It was stuck like a writer with writer's block. It was stuck like a mom who can't tell what to cook for supper. It was stuck like an artist facing an empty canvas; like any human trying to be creative can become stiffled.

Then the sun came out after the storm passed. Soon the icicles fell and the heap of snow slid off the wrought iron. The ice on the rope dripped and dribbled down to the base of the pole. The bell was free and sat waiting for a tug to make it sound again. Its call of "Come in for supper," and "Come back to the house," and "someone's waiting for you," rang sweetly again!

The cold places in our lives can often leave us feeling ignoble (common or low) rather than the noble persons God called us to be. The warmth of God's grace and mercy comes though, like the sun on the bell, when we pray and seek him. It thaws us and melts away the cold that surrounds us and stops us. God frees us from the aching cold of our own selfishness and allows us to be useful again.

Let the bell ring sweet and loud!

Visit to Center for Missions Mobilization

Learning about Missions

This winter we took Brenna, Quinton, and Alton to visit the Center for World Missions Mobilization in Fayetteville, Arkansas, where Joe and Audra  (our son-in-law and daughter) are now serving as home missionaries. Joe uses his expertise in art and graphics for several mission groups that have their home offices in Fayetteville.

Here Brenna posed beside some of the beautifal faces protraying ethnic groups around the world. The super-sized photograqphs decorate walls at the center.

Joe gave us the grand tour starting at the front entrance. ("They went that-a-way!)

Perspectives, Body Builders, U. S Center for World Missions, Every Ethne, and Pioneers are some of the mission organizations that are stationed at the Fayetteville office building.

Joe was excited about filling us in on all the work that goes on at the office. The goal of these home missionaries is to use their God-given skills and talents to send and support missionaries worldwide.

The building is spacious and once served as a bank (The vault makes a great storage closet!) on Fayetteville's town square. The square is the location of a famous farmer's market, so it affords the workers access to some interesting sights and sounds, plenty of visabilty, and as a plus, fresh fruits and veggies for their families! Here are the kitchen and the lunchroom.The entrance and lobby areas face out to the town square, which has beautiful trees and plants and shrubbery around the old courthouse building. The farmer's market features artists painting while you watch, jugglers, musicians, and basket weavers, etc., along with vendors selling local fresh produce, soaps, candles, quilts, woven goods, and flowers.

Here we see Joe's cubbyhole. His office also has an art table and chalk and drawing boards for creative work.  Brenna sketched this horse for Joe on one of the large chalk boards. Looks close to the real thing--her horse Lilly.

The research library and meeting room were decorated for the Christmas holiday. Thanks, Joe for a great tour of your new workplace. We are proud to be a part of it all. God bless the work!

Spring is Almost Here

Spring in the Meadow

By Elece Hollis

The treetops show a palest green.

The iris fronds point straight and clean.

The daffodils nod in between

The earth and sky.

The air above is slate-grey blue;

It shines with very different hue

Than golden warm when robins flew

South in the fall.

The grass appears about to burst

Forth from the ground whose long cold thirst

Is sated now with the fresh first

Swells of spring rain.

Under the mat of last year’s grass

Bright flowers struggle up to pass

Through to the sun’s warm rays at last

From winter’s night.

The geese fly honking overhead,

As Spring arises from his bed;

He shakes himself, comes to be fed

On bread of light.

 Spring has not arrived, but come,

Like Papa from a journey home,

Calls from the soil, calls from the loam

“I’m almost there!”

A Beautiful Bouquet

Good morning from my windowsill.

Some flowers are so special they are almost a song!

 Bouquet in the bright morning sun - prettier than a poem.

What a color!

Especially wonderful with sunlight lighting up the petals.

 As bright as a sunset in late summer.

Photography Classes

Okmulgee Homeschool students spent a week studying photography together. Some of the teachers taught about the history of cameras, careers in photography, digital photography, photo editing by computer, concepts for better photos, light in photos, etc.

Visiting speakers were child portrait photographer, Trinnica Jones, expert witness Ron Hollis who takes airplane photos for Covington Aircraft, and Larry Owens, sports  writer and photographer for Okmulgee Daily Times.

The students went to tour the photography and graphic arts departments at OSU Okmulgee. You might have spotted the students out snapping shots around Okmulgee.

The first two photos show a recently pruned scrub beside the Okmulgee Public Library  at two different times of day. Notice the shadows.

The Orpheum Theator  has been renovated to preserve its former glory. It housed a great old pipe organ.

The Okmulgee library is one of the most beautiful libraries in the state of Oklahoma. An addition was built onto the west side was made in an attempt to match the structures stone, its wonderful windows, and overall design.

St. Anthony's Catholic Church is a historic Okmulgee building. Students toured the building and took photos of the exterior.

These ceilings are in the multimedia building on the OSU Okmulgee campus.

The students were treated to a class on graphic arts and a second class in general digital photography.

This pole clock graces the OSU Tech campus.

This cool old building with its castle like turrets, the date 1901 and the words Parkinson & CO is above the Star Drugstore and the Dowery Gift Shop on the west side of the town square.

The railroads run through Okmulgee. It is a noise I haven't missed out here in the country. Railroad tracks are hard to get away from in Oklahoma.

The Okmulgee County Court House.

 The United Methodist Church on eigth street. If you ever get the chance to visit Okmulgee you must see some of the wonderful old buildings!