My First Ever Farmer’s Market

I’ve managed to get a few varied events under my belt the last several years with my little bitty bee and honey business. Each one is a new learning experience and I’ve slowly figured out what type events are worthwhile and which ones aren’t. This year, 2009, I’ve actually participated in two new venues. The first one was an art festival where I did a childrens activity. While sales were so-so, the fact that it was in my backyard and the fun with the children made the effort worthwhile.

The second was today – a brand new Farmer’s Market! I have to hand it to the Downtown Group, and Julie Bishop in particular, this was a well prepared event! We were met by a small army of volunteers from First Baptist Church who anticipated our needs before we recognized them. Our spaces were well organized and clearly marked. Vendors had access to nice restroom facilities (though I must admit having difficulty finding them!) and parking for both vendors and guests was more than adequate.

I did not take any honey. (1. I don’t have any yet and 2. If I did I only sell in Dale County anyway), but I did take Cinnamon Creamed Honey of which I sold about 2/3 of what I brought. My partner in crime and fellow beekeeper Bill Miller sold completely out of honey, even down to his sample jars. I think he was pretty pleased.

I’m obviously not an experienced farmer’s market vendor, at least not yet, but based on today’s experience here’s what I’ve gleaned so far:

1. I like my tent better than EZ-Up. It’s easier to set up, at least that’s my opinion for now. Mr. E. Herman of FL is loaning us his brand spanking new one and today we had to put the cover on and various other new tent things. I don’t know, I may change my mind before the month is over.

2. Farmer’s market customers are NICE. They aren’t in a hurry and are at the market because they are genuinely interested in eating natural and wholesome foods. I found that most refreshing.

3. Lord, Please deliver me from loud radio station speakers. It’s too soon to predict a pattern, but I suspect W***Fm to be involved with the massive headache I left with.

4. COOLERS AND ICED DRINKS are life savers. Friends who bring coolers with iced drinks are the best kind of friends. I want to be that kind of friend!!

5. Girls with that special “something” still draw a lot of attention. My girls were in bee costumes, and while they were adorable, loveliness radiated because what’s on the inside radiated out.

6. Ok, maybe the EZ-Up had an advantage; we did put a cover on one side to keep the sun out. That was a tremendous help, especially for the bees.

7. TAKE A CAMERA. There was this one little guy who tried on a bee veil . . . talk about a Kodak moment!

8. Lots of $1 and $5 bills.

9. Plan to crash afterwards.

10. Four hours of intense PR can feel like 2 days without sleep.

That being said . . . it’s time for this girl to crash.

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Jesus and Fame

I thought it a very beautiful thing in John ch. 2 when Jesus turned the water into wine. Here He was, one of many guests at a wedding feast, probably unnoticed in the crowd, when He did this beautiful, generous and kind miracle unknown to anyone but the servants and a few close acquaintances. The grace and humility in his contentment to remain anonymous for this deed was profound. I know people like that. They are full of good works and are perfectly happy if nobody knows a thing.

The passage immediately following the miracle in Cana stands in stark contrast. Here we see Jesus in a completely different light. He patiently braided together a whip with many small strands, then took it into the temple and immediately became a public figure, a spectacle if you will, by overturning tables, knocking things over, and running out the crooks who had set up operations there. The Bible doesn't say if anyone took a hit off that whip, but there's no doubt it was put into use and those guys had a healthy respect for it. This wasn't a hasty action. It was meticulous and planned. And Jesus knew He was essentially pasting a bulls eye on Himself for the rest of His ministry.

A lot of times we think of being Christlike only in terms of the miracle at Cana - good deeds without recognition. I think sometimes we neglect the other side of the coin, that being Christlike requires a willingness to be seen and known.

To Jesus recognition didn't matter. If no one knew, that was fine with Him. Fact is, many times He told people to keep things mum. Yet when He needed to be in the limelight, He didn't shy away from either popularity or unpopularity. All that mattered was bringing glory to His Father.

I once asked a lady to help in a presentation that would essentially bring the gospel to a secular venue. She is known for her quiet good works and I expected her to happily respond to such a great opportunity. It wasn't the case though . . . "I could never have people look at me!"

Jesus wasn't like that. His sinlessness was shown in that He needed no recognition for what He did, and on the opposite end of the spectrum, was perfectly OK with being thrust into the limelight. The underlying factor that made both possible was that He had a greater purpose.

How am I doing? I don't know. I like a pat on the back when I do something good. That's pride. There have been times when I've enjoyed the limelight. That's pride as well. The truth is, both extremes reveal sinful nature. "Look at me" and "Don't look at me" both reveal pride, because both are about "me". True Christlikeness is revealed in obedience that is equally willing to be anonymous or famous, popular or unpopular.

Obedience/ dying to self is the key. Jesus became obedient to death, and if I present myself a living sacrifice today, the Glory of my God is the only thing that matters. I want to be like Jesus that way.

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Rainy Monday Musings

This is kind of a hard post for me to put into words. I know what I want to share but I don't know where to start. I've been in kind of a funk spiritually since April. I don't know whether the exhaustion of moving the office and various other big projects have anything to do with it, spending my first ever Mother's day ALONE this month (as in no kids in sight) or what, but daily devotions and regular church activities just haven't cut it. It finally hit me that I'm missing peace and that "sound mind" part of II Tim. 1:7. Thanks to a visiting speaker that peace issue was addressed. Thanks to Pastor Henry Wright's teaching I know that a sound mind is found in a right relationship with the second person of the trinity, Jesus Christ.

I didn't intend to neglect Jesus. He is my Savior and best friend, yet I've had to admit that I have spent a long time (years) learning to love and trust God (the Father) the way He intended a father/child relationship to function. Fear is no longer a stronghold in my life thanks to this dynamic, for lack of a better word, in my relationship with God.

And now it's time to move on. I'm hungry to know my Savior.

It's his power that has my mind reeling today. A lot of things come to mind when you hear the word "power". There are so may uses of the word and ways in which power is defined, shown, and used it covers a lot of ground. And Jesus said "all power is given me". "All" in itself, considering all the meanings, is pretty staggering. Combined with the word "power" and, well, our gaskets just can't hold that much. It's here we step from the realm of understanding into the realm of faith.

But I do want to offer a faint glimmer of understanding. This is something that God showed me yesterday while teaching at the jail. Consider the atomic bomb . . . Little Boy that was detonated over Hiroshima in 1945 successfully converted 600 milligrams (.02 ounce, the weight of a little dust) of uranium into energy. The resulting explosion killed 140,000 people with those closest to the blast being vaporized in nanoseconds.

When you consider the Holiness of our God having the power of even a few pieces of uranium dust, how dare we think we can stand before Him? At least not without a covering of His provision? This is exactly what God did for his friend, Moses, when he hid him behind a rock to prevent him from being killed by the brightness of His glory.

"The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereoff." My Jesus owns far, far more than a few specs of uranium dust. It's ALL His. When you consider the mass of the earth is generally accepted as 5.9742 × 10²⁴ kilograms, (did you get that, ten to the 24'th power kilograms?), the energy stored in our world alone is so far beyond comprehension we can only express it in terms of power.

And it's all His. I don't know about you, but I know who's side I want to be on! And I'm thankful to have His covering!

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Dead Mice Offerings (image deliberately omitted)

We have two cats, Stitches and Lucky. They are about as opposite in personalities as it’s possible for two felines to be. Stitches is demure and doesn’t like to be held, yet she’s the one who will cuddle against my backside in the sewing room chair when given the opportunity. Lucky on the other hand is a Tigger; impetuous, playful, and affectionate.

We don’t know which one of them is leaving us “presents”.

It started this spring after we were gone for a week. We came home to a thoroughly disgusting dead mouse on the porch by the back door. The unspoken message was, “You weren’t here to feed us, we don’t want you to leave again so we’re going to feed you.”

There have been two this week, and neither were on the back porch by the door . . . no, they were in the work area of the kitchen where thankfully I didn’t step on them. I’ve not figured out what the meow message is supposed to be, unless it’s something like, “I’d like mine medium rare”, which of course we know isn’t going to happen.

It crossed my mind this morning while disposing of mousie #2, (found intact next to the refrigerator unlike it’s predecessor that had internal parts missing) that our offerings to God must seem a lot like that sometimes. I know my cats mean well. My mom told me years ago that it’s their way of taking care of their family and showing appreciation. Yet what possible use could a dead mouse be to a human other than something to throw out and maybe fertilize the garden . . . like compost? And when you consider the diseases that mice can carry do you even want to do that??

I’m reminded that my own works are like that to God, pretty disgusting. While I may mean well, and be very sincere, if it’s not led by His Spirit, and washed in His Blood, it’s not worth a whole lot in eternity’s economy.

And eternity, under the shadow of his wings, is where I want to live. So no dead mice for my God today! He wants my heart and I’m glad to give it to Him – just not on the kitchen floor.

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Monday Musings

I've been in a funk lately. I'm fairly sure it's because of the steady stream of travel, shows, visitors, big projects etc, especially the last few days. I like funky music occasionally, but I don't like being in a funk. It's like you just go through the motions of life with no emotion, no passion, nothing. I know that the walk of faith is not dependent on feelings, but feelings certainly make the passage more enjoyable.

Today I talked to Betty P for the first time. Betty is one of my correspondence students for the prison ministry. I don't know her story, but I know she's been my most faithful student since 2005. Wherever she moves she stays in touch and just keeps on studying. If lessons get lost or returned she'll call the church and give a good address. This time she gave a phone number as well.

If I ever run out of study material Betty will be the one to complete all the lessons. Even though it was our first personal contact, there was a sweet kinship of spirit that only the Lord can give - I've prayed over many a lesson of hers and now I feel like I have a new friend. Hearing her voice and getting to know her a bit more was precious. I've known her faithful spirit for years now. She's my only student to continue Bible study long after leaving a locked facility.

I don't think about it often but I full well expect to meet and rejoice with all my believing students in heaven someday. Today, God banished a funk by giving me a little heaven here. He couldn't have given me a better encouragement to remain faithful and finish strong.

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Finding My Inner Farmgirl

My friend Rachael visited over the weekend. Rachael's visits are always a delight. We do all kinds of crazy stuff like dig in the trash gully on my property, rob bees, sit and sweat for hours, and enjoy insane animal adventures. This visit she went on a swarm call with me and actually found the queen bee in the swarm bucket, by herself! Rach is a true renaissance woman. She's every bit as much at home in a frilly Victorian frock as she is denim and flannel. She makes fine bonnets and can handle a pistol or tomahawk with equal skill.

Needless to say I look forward to her visits.

This time she left me something priceless - a couple of magazines featuring bees and honey as their topic of the month. You know me, if it's honey related, I'm all for it!

One of the magazines is Mary Janes Farm. I have to admit, I was pretty much a goner with the first photo I saw, a little girl in a bee costume. The old timey bee embrodery patterns were a treat too. Interviews with beekeepers, recipes, etc were all presented beautifully and tastefully.

Then I saw the website . . . it turns out Mary Jane is a real person. Her vision, hard work and passion have touched many lives and there are "Farmgirl" chapters, each sporting it's own unique apron, all over the country. It's a great site to peruse while on hold. The networking is awesome - today I found Aunt Daisey , tea jellies, and all kinds of cool crafty blogs. Talk about inspiration! Between all the adorable aprons and links to other women out there doing their own thing, I felt my kind, our kind, of different was a special thing.

So Thank You dear Rachael for your own precious friendship, and also for helping me appreciate my Inner Farmgirl.

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Green Goodness: Just Wear Your Gloves

The stinging nettle stand I mentioned a few weeks earlier has grown substantially, in fact there's a couple of nice bushy mounds of it by the barn. Now that I recognize it every time I see where it's spread to another place I'm pleased. It seems to like to grow against rocks and buildings. I've not seen any out in the open, it's almost like it's trying not to be noticed.

But I notice! And a couple of days ago I donned my gloves and a pair of snips and harvested some stalks with tender greens. I was nervous about the gloves, but I figured the barbs would be less likely to penetrate latex than leather or cloth gloves. It was a gamble that paid off. I snipped them low with kitchen scissors, took them in an washed them, all the while being careful not to get them against any bare skin.

My sister had told me they didn't taste great but were great for you. All my research supported that but I wasn't up to a meal of straight nettles, so I mixed them with canned turnip greens. To tell you the truth, I couldn't tell I was eating anything out of the ordinary, but then, I wasn't doing a high ratio of nettles to greens either. It's been almost forty eight hours and no hint of symptoms, so at least I know it's not poisonous.

What was left after snipping the tender greens off the stalk I bound up in a string and hung it just outside the back door. It may be an old wives tale but it's supposed to help keep flies out. So far so good! They're supposed to be naturally leery of the little barbs. I hope it's true - I HATE flies!

I think tea is next on the agenda. They'll be gone as soon as it gets hot so I plan to harvest soon.
Who would have thought a plant that causes so much pain would do so much good?

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