Tending the Branches

Stone Skipping

“I am the vine, and my Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” ~ John 15:1-2


Our oldest grandsons, they are growing tall and full of life. If they were pups, we’d say that they are finally growing into their paws.

We heralded September with a camping trip to the central California mountains. Just us and the four oldest. The first “group” outing taken with a few from the gaggle of grandkids we have been blessed with. Our own Tribe of Twelve.

They tickled us pink and rocked our world. Who knew that tween- and teen-aged boys could be so much fun. Half way to the campground, Jaden pulled out his iPhone. Then Trent pulled down the compartment where a T.V. screen could be, but wasn’t, and placed the iPhone in it. Isaiah secured it by stuffing a sock around it. Brenden was in the rear wingman seat, unencumbered with any duties and prime viewing.

(Jaden) “What do you want to watch?”

(Isaiah) “Let’s watch ADVENTURE TIME.”

(Trent) “I don’t really watch Adventure Time.”

(Jaden) “Dude, what do you mean you don’t watch it — you DRESSED like the guy for Halloween!”


(Isaiah) “Put on SPONGEBOB.”

(Trent) “No, VICTORIOUS or iCARLY.”

(Isaiah) “Dude, seriously, you like iCarly?”

(Trent) “Yeah.”

(Jaden and Brenden) LOL.


Cousins crack each other up.

I pulled out my Road Trip journal from http://bagladylulu.com/ (another Flying Lessons colleague) and began jotting down notes. This is great fodder for writing, ya’ all. {I’m a city-girl, but, apparently, when I’m out in the country camping, I morph into a faux country-gal — hence, “ya’ all.”}


There were late night card games using Red Vines and M&Ms to ante-up.


There was some fishing with Grandpa. “It was THIS big!”


Toasted Pop Tarts and Twinkies and, of course, Smores, over the campfire.


Good Times in Heimster World.




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“Therefore by their fruits you will know them.” ~ Matthew 7:20

What are a few of your September memories?

Autumn garden


Now thin mists temper the slow-ripening beams

Of the September sun: his golden gleams

On gaudy flowers shine, that prank the rows

Of high-grown hollyhocks, and all tall shows

That Autumn flaunteth in his bushy bowers;

Where tomtits, hanging from the drooping heads

Of giant sunflowers, peck the nutty seeds;

And in the feathery aster bees on wing

Seize and set free the honied flowers,

Till thousand stars leap with their visiting;

While ever across the path mazily flit,

Unpiloted in the sun,

The dreamy butterflies

With dazzling colours powdered and soft glooms,

White, black and crimson stripes, and peacock eyes,

Or on chance flowers sit,

With idle effort plundering one by one

The nectaries of deepest-throated blooms.

~ Robert Bridges

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