Saturday, August 19, 2017
 

Archive for May, 2001

Drying Herbs

Dear Ladies,

The herbs I dry are the mints and some of the more leafy herbs. Also the raspberry leaves are simple to dry. Often, I just cut branches of the raspberries and hang the branches or canes over the top of the window — not in the sun — up on the top windowsill. I let the leaves dry on the branches. Then I take the dried and crumpled leaves down and put them in a jar for the winter.

Be sure to label everything.

I also do this with the little hot peppers. I just hang the whole bush of hot peppers up on a nail and then the little peppers dry by themselves.

I decorate my dining room with the hanging bunches of herbs. I hang the long branches of the seven sister roses over my country chandelier above the family table. And this is how the small sweet tea roses dry for the winter. They look very romantic for the summer, hung in long branches. I also hang branches of roses over two small doorways to the dining room. With the dried roses, I make rose vinegar for a rinse for my long hair.

Most of the herbs I grow I dry, with the exception of comfrey, chives and parsley. Comfrey I just use in season because it doesn’t dry well for me. The chives and parsley I freeze in jars. The herbs come out easily when you freeze it this way. I think you can dry parsley pretty simply in an oven … I just like it frozen the best.

I try to keep a pot of parsley growing in the house for the winter. Sometimes it does pretty well and other times not. I just cut the parsley tops with the scissors when I need it for cooking.

When drying your herbs, dry them in small bunches. Otherwise, they will mold before they dry.

Last year I just put up a string that stretched over my doorway to the dining room from the living room. I hung my herbs on this string with clothes pins. It’s a wide double sized doorway. I hung some of the larger long red peppers up, and the camphor, and horehound, and small bunches of sage. Of course, the basils dry well, also.

The chamomile I dry on newspapers. Well, mine is wild, short and stubby … too short to hang up.

In the fall I hang my zinnias and marigolds upside down to keep their color. They look so festive for the Autumn. I grow seeta, a dark purple flower, especially to dry for the fall. I love to buy big pumpkins and squash to decorate the house with them and the dried flowers.

I don’t use any chemicals to dry my herbs and flowers.

The children and I have made many pictures with the herbs and flowers. We put them on white cardboard and put clear contact paper on the top. Mary made fancy ladies with the dried flowers for their skirts.

Love,
Connie

Papa’s Garden

Dear Wives and Mothers,

Yesterday afternoon I went visiting with my neighbor, and Papa put in the garden. I have a garden up by my back door … it’s just my kitchen garden. But Papa took over the big garden. When I got home from my visit, Papa was working hard, making sure there was not a weed anywhere before he began to plant. I said, “Honey, do you want me to help you?”

He was silent … wheels turning … thoughts churning. “How do I tell my wife that I don’t want her near this garden? With her back to the land naturalist ideas? That I don’t want hay and straw and newspapers and old rugs and plain junk in my garden?”

“Well, I guess we have different ideas on gardening. Right, Honey?” I answer my own questions when he is silent, but I can read his thoughts. “Well, I guess I will go on back to the house and fix supper. Your garden will look nice.”

Papa is relieved and happy that his wife won’t have a say in this garden this year. Mama lives in her own little world where herbs and flowers grow naturally and, like spoiled children, they can grow and flourish wherever they would like to. “Well, Honey, our yard is a wildlife preserve for herbs and edible plants. I hate grass. I want the whole lawn to be herbs. What’s the deal on grass … who needs it? It’s boring.” Well, I don’t talk quite that bold to Papa, but these are my thoughts on the whole situation. My dream, of course, is to just mow the chamomile. Herbs can be a ground cover. Well, they can be … but probably not in our yard and not in Papa’s lifetime.

Papa is sitting beside me this morning, writing out his bills. I just read what I wrote to you ladies about him. I said, “Right, Papa, isn’t that what is in your head about me? That I am a naturalist nut?”

“Well, ya never know, Honey. Maybe someday I will change my views on grass.” Well, when Papa says “Maybe someday,” that always means he is gently telling Mama, as the weaker vessel, that he is the head of the house and grass is what everyone else has in their yard and grass will be the rule of the day.

In the old days … when all the children were little? We had no grass in our front yard … the children and all of their friends wore it off from play. I loved it. Children and no grass … just good old dirt. People would come by and say, “You don’t have any grass in your front yard.

I’d say, “Yes, but we have children. That’s the main thing.”

And now we have lush thick grass in our front yard and no children to stomp it out. It breaks my heart … no children … just grass. And no grandchildren yet … just lush green thick grass. I guess this is why I hate grass. It says so plainly, “Your children have grown and there are no little ones to take their place.” I guess, if I have a ground cover of herbs and wild flowers, at least it soothes Mama’s heart a little. At least she doesn’t have to look at the thick and green grass.

But, like Papa says, “Well, ya never know. With God all things are possible.” Papa knows that I live from the visions in my heart … and when Mama prays the supernatural happens. One thing above all else, Papa loves me and trusts the visions in my heart.

Maybe … just maybe … someday … grass won’t grow at the Hultquists home again … just children.

Love,
Connie

Mother’s Home Journal

Dear Mommys,

Today I wanted to tell you of the conversations I have with my girl Christian Joy. She lives alone in an apartment in Brooklyn, New York. How does that set in Mama’s heart? Well, I have had to trust in the Lord.

Christian is 27 … the love of her mama’s heart. Chrissy is a dress designer and even has her dresses in a magazine, and she put her Mama’s picture in there, too. And I have never gotten over it. She is supposed to send me the magazine. I pray it isn’t a punk rocker magazine. It’s pictures she had of me in the 70s with my wire rim glasses on. “Oh, Mom, it’s just six pictures and then it will go to the art museum here in New York.” I try to remain calm.

Anyway, the other day, Chrissy Joy and I were talking on the phone about feminism … my favorite topic. I know my way around there as I used to be one. “Mom, the men here in New York look like sissies. The women are beautiful, for the most part — dressed to a tee — and they can’t find men to marry. The women so outshine the men. The women I know are so sick of the men here. The women here think that the greatest thing that could happen to them would be that they could find a man that wants to get married and that would let them have babies and stay home and be able to be full time mothers.”

I tell her, “Chrissy, you are seeing the fruits of feminism. Women have taken the man’s role and now they are paying for it. These women thought that being a housewife was slavery. They ran from it and now they have found out what true slavery is. Now it is expected of them to not have babies or get married. Welcome to a society of feminists … true slavery.”

Chrissy, of course, has to support herself, as she is single. Being out in the world with her Mama’s eyes and with Mama’s prayers attached to everything she does, she sees the truth. She has even helped me to see more and more of the truth. I mean, I believe that feminism is a sin and, of course, robs a woman of her dignity. But Christian really helps me to see it in a different light.

A lot of feminism probably had its start in New York and so now we can see what the rest of the world will turn out like. Men who are pussy whipped and women who are strong and in leadership. It’s no wonder men in the world need Viagra.

Don’t ask me what I think of women preachers in the church. To me, this kind of feminism in the church is the deadliest of all. Any godly woman who can read the times and the seasons we live in would have to know that the greatest calling of all in God would be a call of women to come home. To be married, to have babies, and to raise them for the Lord Jesus Christ.

The Bible says to the believers … not to the unbelievers … to multiply and to replenish the earth. Oh, we have a population explosion in some areas. But not a population explosion of Godly boys and girls. Our earth has multiplied, but it is not replenished. There are always enough unbelievers in any society, but never enough who are called of God.

As our lives are written about in history books, I can imagine that in a hundred years, we women who stayed home and had babies will be called the backbone of our society. While other women were out seeking self and how to bring it glory, we have been the glue that has held this mess together.

Love,
Connie

RELATED LINKS
Christian Joy Fashion Design – Christian Joy’s website.

Blessed Are the Poor in Spirit

Dear Wives,

Last week I got so mad at Jim. I wanted my way and he wanted his way. And then he got into a black mood and then I got into a blacker one. Well, Papa is out in the world all day and Mama is at home prayin’. We see things in different lights. My sin is always that I think that Jim should feel like I do about things. He often thinks that I am not respecting him as a man and not honoring him as my husband … the bread winner … the head of the house.

Jim is very territorial which is a good trait in a man. They like being the head of the house … and they know everything that is going on in the house from top to bottom. That’s Jim. When Mama gets outside that boundary line — and especially when Papa is sick with his sinus problems — things go boom. When Papa’s mood is black, it begins to change to gray when he looks at Mama and sees that her mood is changing to black, blacker, and then to fire engine black.

The Lord spoke to my heart, finally, as I wrestled in prayer with the whole thing. And then I went to the grocery store. As I entered the door, the Lord spoke to my heart, “Connie, blessed are the poor in spirit. Be pitiful. Be courteous. Connie, you are more spiritual than your Jim. Forget your own hurts and love Jim and minister to him.” Something really broke within me, and I saw this whole picture as the Lord saw it. God is not interested in who is right. He looks at our hearts and our desire to please Him.

I pleased the Lord when I forgave … when I took the lower seat … when I humbled myself before the Lord and to my husband. It’s not who is righteously correct … it’s who is the most humble before God. As I forgave Jim, I could ask God to forgive me for my vanity and pride. That stiff unholy flesh that needs to be right will be the death of us women if we don’t watch out.

I really think these are the years of the women. Man alive! Women are just worshipped these days. They seemingly can’t do anything wrong. Women can stay home and do nothing to build up the home … just sit there and be pretty … and the world would tell her that this is her right. Let a man try that for a while, and he is called a snake. All of this deception lives around us Christian wives and mothers, and we need to be very careful of it. We are fast losing our places in our homes. If we don’t get to work and show our husbands that we are making a difference in the quality of the home by staying home, then they won’t want to support us.

A wife at home has a definite advantage over her husband in spiritual things. Her husband is really, in a way, sacrificing part of his spiritual life to go out and work for his family. Well, not really, but in a way. I mean, I am here and very able to grow spiritually. Every day I write in the mornings, and my spiritual life has grown a lot as I have been faithful to keep writing. I have noticed that I am so much more clear and have so much more discernment than I used to have. So when Jim starts to match wits with me, I’m liable to blow him into the next state with just a look.

And I know that some of you ladies know what I mean. Trouble is, I am not the head of the house, and God doesn’t think I am just because I am more spiritual. This whole thing is like me bragging that I have a winter coat to wear in the cold and he doesn’t, when he was the one who bought me the coat.

While the world may tell us that we can do anything, we better not try that in front of the old man. Pride comes before a fall. In the world, the woman is told to square her shoulders and stick her chest out and do what she wants, regardless of what her husband says. Satan is just pulling these women into slavery. No one can just do as they please — I don’t care who they are.

I think in Christendom, the biggest sin that women are committing is the sin of pride and unforgiveness. We have to walk in love and forgiveness. It doesn’t matter who is right. God’s servant among us is the one who will humble herself and be the peace maker.

Just lately, I faced all of this with my own mother. Dad is still in the hospital. Of course, I am ranting and raving about the medical help he is not getting. Mother, on the other hand, trusts in doctors. Mom called me two nights ago and said the doctor said that Dad could die any minute. My response was, “Mom, why do you believe that stuff?” I was ashamed of myself after I said that. I couldn’t sleep that night hardly at all. I had drawn my sword of righteousness again and nearly killed someone who didn’t understand where I was coming from at all. Mom was hurt and didn’t understand that I was laboring in prayer for Dad’s life. I may have been scripturally right … but where was my humility and respect to my mother who was losing her mate of 59 years?

I told God that I was sorry … so sorry. When I got to the hospital, I soothed my mother. I said, “Mom, I understand. You believe the doctors are right, and I will just agree with you.” See, I have to be at peace with my mother, or Dad could never be healed.

We have to walk in forgiveness and love and peace with those around us. We must go to the level of faith of the weakest one. I came into agreement with Mom that the doctors were doing right with Dad. And if God can use an ass, he can use a doctor. Mom is from the old school, where the doctors were gods and if they kill you … well. they couldn’t help it. As I agree with Mom that the doctors will do what is right, this helps me, in my faith, to walk in peace and know that God can still do a miracle.

But I am not going to get a miracle by walking up and over my mother’s head. We must be patient with those around us, and see their point, and encourage them where they are at. If they have a little faith and it is in a doctor, then it is faith, even if it is misdirected. Maybe God will use my mother’s faith in her doctors. I’m not going to kill her faith because it isn’t like mine.

I said all of this to say that we need to understand that some of us are given more discernment than others. But, as women, we don’t have the authority to take spiritual authority over a man. We need to drop back out of sight and pray our prayers to the Man in authority over every demon and every man … and His name is Jesus Christ. We must be quiet and submissive and loving to those who are poor in spirit. Whether that means your husband or your own folks.

Be glad that you understand the Lord because you have had the time to spend with Him and know His heart. But many don’t understand Him. We must show the world who He is by our good works. I mean, we need to tell the truth and plant the seeds, but we can’t make seeds grow. We must drop back and leave the seeds hidden.

Love,
Connie

 
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