How to juggle 2 and 3 oranges

Have you ever felt like you had so many projects going it was like juggling oranges? Oh, we all have at times, I'm sure.
Right now I'm enjoying that heady experience of spring being in the air. It's so much more fun to walk the dog, and wouldn't it be neat if I could run and skip and jump like I did--nope I'm not gonna say how many years ago.
But there are other projects that grab a person's attention, also. Today I am rejoicing because the wildflower seeds in the planter are sprouting. Yes! It worked to plant them in March! Let's see if they actually will shrug off the frosty nights!  Naturally, visions of hot summer glory spilling from that wooden planter are filling my eyes! I wonder what it will really look like? My life is so much like a garden, but hopefully more like a more organized vegetable/flower type. 
My days are colorful, to say the least, and yours are too, wouldn't you admit? What cheerful summer project are you pulling towards?
 I glance at the computer and think of the stories dancing in my head, but nah, not at this time of year. Some of the other ideas I have are almost as imaginative though. How 'bout making a lily pond where we used to grow potatoes and corn? Wouldn't that be cool? (Quite literally if you fell in.)  And what about learning the Green Thumber's art of propagating through taking cuttings? Imagine all the lilacs, roses, peonies and flowering crab apple trees that would magically appear! Don't worry, I won't feel bad if you are rolling your eyes. Maybe just maybe I am too, but hey, dreaming is fun. Let's make something special happen this summer!
 And oh by the way, when you want to take a break from one of your hot, sweaty projects you've been joyfully pursuing, make sure you have a tall glass of an icy cold drink on hand and...one of my books.  They're found on this website: www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com.
I've been trying for hours, seems like to correct the order of the pages. I guess I'll have to go for help, somewhere.

Cheerios!

The Perfect Mom (Ha)

•  
• She teacheth her toddlers to pick up all the toys each day
• She brusheth their teetheth and learneth them to do it by themselves while they are yet very small
• She teacheth them to go to the potty all by themselves by the time they are 16 months
• She readeth Bible stories to them every day without fail
• She teacheth them to share and without complaint
• She teacheth them to always put clothes away where they belong
• She teacheth them to always say please and thank you
• She teacheth them to obey-eth without argument....
• O.K. okayy, I can't handle any more. And where were you, Marilyn? Well, if the dust would ever settle, you would see me running along way in the distance!

Tell me your motherhood experiences. Good bad or just plain funny.

www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Whose the Enemy?

aud20190201 wa000 Dear fellow Christians, I have been thinking a lot lately about our fellow human beings who call themselves atheists. Christian Communities are sometimes bombarded with articles by non-believers and it's not surprising that they have been blocked. But I feel a certain amount of sympathy for them. Not all of them, mind you. Some of them appear to be mud-slingers who have nothing good to say about anyone but I don't know their hearts. Atheists, like many of the rest of us often have sympathetic, yet hurting hearts and possibly can't understand why a loving God would allow such suffering in the world. I want to focus on the sensitivity they show, the caring they feel. That is a beautiful thing. Let's not fight against them and put up a barricade but reach out in love and compassion. Not join them of course, because by doing that we would loose something most precious. Let's not preach or try to defend our viewpoint but just show that we care and listen with an understanding heart. We also find it hard to cope with all the cruelty in the world but find a comfort in the arms of the Healer and wish they could find Him also. Non-believers aren't truly our enemies, Satan is. Sincerely, Marilyn Friesen www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

And Even the Chickens Love Each Other https://www.airbnb.ca/hosting

I flicked on the light. 

"Yes, good morning to you, also." As usual a dozen or so young hens and one elegant rooster greeted me with a cheerful cackling sound. They were a welcome sight after scurrying through the frost-stiffened grass with my battery operated lamp bouncing beside me.

  Take note of those two Rhode Island Reds still on the roost. They have 'hung out' together longer than any of the others.If they were humans, someone would declare that they had a bond created by adversity. In the early part of summer, I had ten little red hens. One night I forgot to lock them up, and the number went down to nine. Several nights later we went out for night lunch. I thought of them, yes I truly did, but nine thirty is too early for guests to politely leave, especially in this North Country with its long summer evenings. Well, you guessed it. I forgot when we went home.

Two thirty ro-o-o-l-l-l-ed around. My husband heard a dog bark and a chicken squawk. He leaped out of bed. I hurriedly followed. 

We scurried around with our feeble lights, but where were the birds? The dog is barking excitedly behind the chicken house and there lies One Dead Bird. Poor Sheba is hastily blamed, but on calmer reflection anyone can tell you she couldn't have destroyed what appeared to be a whole flock of chickens in one night.Golden Retrievers don't have that kind of reputation.

We wandered mournfully around, and finally one frightened hen was found huddled in the chicken house. Well, we humans need our sleep whether the rest of the chickens were dead or alive. When the sun rose to brighten the sky, I continued searching and one bedraggled hen ventured hesitantly from behind a huge tree.

I put the two together and they didn't leave each others side for many hours. As far as that goes, they didn't go anywhere at all for a long time.

The rest of the flock had totally disappeared, but those two learned to put on their own 'vanishing act'. Late in the afternoon, but long before evening shadows had lengthened those two 'old girls' would fly way up into the branches of the towering Manitoba Maples. They would have regularly spent their nights there, if we hadn't hauled them down and put them in the chicken house..

There's a risk having chickens in the back country!

Interested in what else this writer has to say? Hang out at www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com , then. 

When Dreams Come True

Oh, my the things that happen when I'm not watching. This evening, I was scrolling through old blog posts and came across this. What amazed me is how popular it was.  The books are already out, and there's ebooks available also.
Note: Emily and Alice are twins that were separated as newborns.

I dreamed I had a twin, Mommy.

Alice was just a little girl but she had always wished to have a sister
"just her size." Sometimes she even dreamed about it. Once her
dream was so vivid that Alice told her Mommy.
"I dreamed I had a twinnie, Mommy."
Alice didn't notice the uneasy look on her mother's face when she responded.
"Oh, was it a nice dream?"
"I'm not sure. In some ways I liked it."
"Why wouldn't you like to dream that, honey?"
Alice's blue eyes filled with tears.
"I wish I had a twin, Mommy. I REALLY do."
Margaret's face grew pale but she kept her voice even. "Why don't you tell me about your dream,sweetheart."

The Day I Felt Like Winnie the Pooh

www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

CHICKEN CHATTER

OK, I LIKE CHICKENS, BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I WANT TO LIVE WITH THEM! 

Have you ever heard that old saying, "The hurrieder I go, the behinder I get?" Well, one day "behinder" wasn't enough. I was stopped dead in my tracks. Not only was I stopped short, but I was locked up behind a closed door. In a small chicken house to be exact. 

The Searching Eyes

Dear fellow Christians,

I have been thinking a lot lately about our fellow human beings who call themselves atheists.  

This community used to be bombarded with articles by non-believers and it's not surprising that they have been blocked. 

But I feel a certain amount of sympathy for them. Not all of them, mind you. Some of them appear to be mud-slingers who have nothing good to say about anyone but I don't know their hearts.

Atheists, like many of the rest of us often have sympathetic, yet hurting hearts and possibly can't understand why a loving God would allow such suffering in the world. 

I want to focus on the sensitivity they show, the caring they feel. That is a beautiful thing. 

Let's not fight against them and put up a barricade but reach out in love and compassion. Not join them of course, because by doing that we would loose something most precious. Let's not preach or try to defend our viewpoint but just show that we care and listen with an understanding heart.

We also find it hard to cope with all the cruelty in the world but find a comfort in the arms of the Healer and wish they could find Him also.

Sincerely, Marilyn Friesen

www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

Not So Dusty Discoveries!

I didn't know saying a simple "yes" could lead to such huge challenges and such a dramatic change in my life. 
 You would think that being swept back into the dirty thirties would be dry, distressing and dreadful, but I'm finding it fascinating! When your second cousins gang up on you to write the story of their fathers who were orphaned at an early age, what do you do? Do you say "Nah, that's not my type of writing?" 
Well, I tried that, but "repented" a couple years later, and you know what,  their story is not a dusty manuel in spite of the setting. 

Would you let your child have a badger for a pet? What if the badger leaps out of a loft and kills a sixty pound pig? 
Did you know that one-room-schoolhouse kids used to race down to the creek at recess time to go swimming then rush back more sweaty than ever when the first bell rings?
 I'm sure having a lot of fun writing this book and learning some amazing stuff.

www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

But really, don't you wish I was working on it rather than rambling away on a blog page?
While you patiently wait to learn more about these seven orphan children, why not meander over to my website. There's more of my work there. 

amazon.com/author/marilynfriesen

The Walls Will Come Crashing Down

Another installment in the story Terror and Tranquility 

 We are going to be swept back in time to the banks of the swollen Jordan. The immense multitude of Israelite's have marched solemnly across although I am sure more than one boy may have picked up a stone to fling at the mighty wall of water. Fearful, tearful faces have lined the walls of the proud city of Jericho wondering, and worrying whatever is going on. Now let us get back to Rehab's viewpoint. If you are confused as to what this is all about, go back a page or two and that will help.

  Rehab returned to the rooftop and visited long with the stalwart, young men. Her cheeks burned however, when she thought of how shamelessly she had flirted with the soldiers downstairs.It hadn't bothered in her the least at other times, but now followers of the true God had come to her for assistance.I would never want them to see me acting like that!
  After the spies safely returned to their own people, Rehab had made haste to tell all her relatives that they would be protected when the enemy attacked if they would find shelter in her apartment. They took her at her  word.

Increasing Terror and Tranquility

Even Rahab watched in terror as all the Israelities folded their tents, loaded  their belongings and yougest chidren on to carts and merged into one long and solemn line that seemed to reach to the end of the earth.

The Frantic Search for Spies

O.K. Here we go... Did you read the first parts of Terror and Tranquility?

 All the armed forces I have ever heard of come unencumbered by family.but these men have their women and offspring along as through they would never consider the possibility of failure in their mission.
   Rehab found herself with much time on her hands. I will occupy myself with my spinning, although we possibly have very few days left to live. If I am to die, I hope they kill me quickly so I need not suffer over much. I wonder what it is like in the Hereafter.
  Rehab went to the rooftop to access her winter's supply of flax and saw that there was more than enough to keep her busy spinning and weaving for many days to come.
  Just then a gentle knock sounded at the door. Rehab would have missed it had her ears not been keenly tuned to sounds in her entryway. She was used to all sorts of raucous noises in the street below.
She ran lightly down the stairs and peered through a crack in the door.
  "Thou art here!" she cried.

Under Arrest But Nowhere to be Found!

O.K. Here we go... Did you read the first part:Terror and Tranquility?

 All the armed forces I have ever heard of come unencumbered by family.but these men have their women and offspring along as through they would never consider the possibility of failure in their mission.
   Rehab found herself with much time on her hands. I will occupy myself with my spinning, although we possibly have very few days left to live. If I am to die, I hope they kill me quickly so I need not suffer over much. I wonder what it is like in the Hereafter.
  Rehab went to the rooftop to access her winter's supply of flax and saw that there was more than enough to keep her busy spinning and weaving for many days to come.
  Just then a gentle knock sounded at the door. Rehab would have missed it had her ears not been keenly tuned to sounds in her entryway. She was used to all sorts of raucous noises in the street below.
She ran lightly down the stairs and peered through a crack in the door.
  "Thou art here!" she cried.

Terror and Tranquility

Hang on, folks, I'm taking you on a train ride way into the past. It's not into the wild west either. Nope, it's way before that; and it's based on a true story. Hold your breath and hang tight and decide which side of the wall you're going to be on. Let me know in the comments below how soon you recognized the story, and remember more is c-c-coming!

Based on the Bible story about the city of Jericho being destroyed by soldiers surrounded by their women and children! It is focusing on the viewpoint of a harlot looking on.

Rehab's arm brushed against a small patch of downy moss when she looked out of  the casement at the acres of tents. They were spread out on the other side of the River Jordan. An ant attempted to crawl up her sleeve, but she flicked it off. The moon was brilliant tonight and the worshipers of the moon goddess could be heard wailing and dancing in the streets.
Rehab was deeply impressed by the ordered and precision represented by the rows and squares of tents, so different that the chaos and confusion directly behind her.
   They are a people whose caliber is far superior to anyone on this side of the river,  she thought almost reverently.
   In her type of business she met people from many different nationalities.Many of them did not realize how well she understood their different tongues, and she preferred to keep it that way. For several months now, both foreigners, and fellow-citizens alike babbled fearfully, almost incoherently at times, about the exploits of this so great a people.
  " They have risen from the Nile. "

Irresistible!

We've got the sweetest puppies at our place. (New year's babies born yesterday and today.)They aren't goldies but if they are as adorable as their mother, they will all be winners. The mother is extremely cute, smart and healthy. She looks very much like a Polish tetra Sheep dog or Great Pyrenesee but not such a bulky coat.https://youtu.be/Yo2Vvy86wsc

The Young Woman Who was not Allowed to Get Any Job

It must have been a dreadful time for many in religious communities that were low on compassion. Mary was one of those 'unfortunates' who was in an occupation openly frowned on by the religious authorities but secretly supported by the very same people. For reason unknown to us, this young harlot was exposed, and the Pharisees were determined that Jesus (Yeshua) would make sure she was stoned.  Here is an excerpt from Jesus' life from His mother's viewpont.

    When the Pharisees exposed Mary, hoping she would be
 stoned,Yeshua had rescued her from certain death, but since
 then she had had no work, no work at all.
She had hunted all over town for a respectable job,
 but everyone looked down on someone

who had been a zonah.
It made no difference that she had not

wanted to be one. It made no difference that she had no
 choice;either that or beg,
 and who would toss coins to a
 beautiful young talitha: one that was obviously in perfect
health?

    When she was not looking for work, Mary frequently

trudged behind the Rabboni, Yeshua,
at a respectful distance. 

She esteemed Him very highly, but did not

feel worthy to be seen in His Shekinah.
   But then one evening that had all changed. She got out

her alabaster box of rich ointment
 and cradled it between her hands.
It had taken her a year of careful saving
to purchase the rare perfume.
She knew she could sell it for a good price,

and survive a little longer, but that is not
what she wanted to

do with it.
   “Yeshua,” she whispered, as the tears slid down her

cheeks,” Will you understand what I am trying to do?”
 As she plodded along the empty street,
she had the alabaster ointment carefully concealed
within the folds of her garment.
 Far in the distance she saw a group of men
strolling towards their supper appointment.
She had overheard one of the Hibernim inviting

Yeshua and His disciples for a meal,
 and was determined to offer this rebbe,
 this healer, this most wonderful friend,
 her supreme gift in gratitude
for what He had done for her.

  Her heart squeezed with fear even while her feet took

her closer to the gleaming mansion and she saw the men

disappear one by one through the enormous doors.
 What if ‘her’ Hibernim was within those portals?
She knew it was most probable.

   The porter had left the door slightly ajar to let in the

evening breezes. Mary slipped in, and followed the sounds of

deep, muted voices. They led her to where men were dining

on couches in a massive dining room.
  Suddenly she saw Him, and she had eyes for Yeshua only.

With a cry on her lips, she hurried over and sank to her knees.

Yeshua,” she whispered. “Yeshua, Yeshua!” Oh that He will

know how grateful I am for all He has done for me!

    As she opened the alabaster box for the first time, a sweet

Perfume permeated the air. Someone sniffed deprecatingly and

she heard a critical comment or two but they barely registered.

The tears of adoration and gratitude that flowed down her

cheeks washed away the dust from His feet. With reverential

tenderness Mary lifted each one, and dabbed at them with her

flowing locks until no dust smudges remained.

  There was a lull in the conversation, and Mary looked up.

Yeshua rested His hand lightly on her ankle-length hair, and

then tilted her chin with one finger so that she would look

directly at Him.

   “Thy sins are forgiven.” His voice was so rich, and kindly.

She gazed rapturously into His eyes until He spoke again.

            “Thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace.”

            Somehow Mary found her way to the door,
 clutching the broken alabaster box to her bosom.
She walked back to her house as one in a dream,
 and knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she
 would follow Him where ever He went, and

serve Him with her whole heart.

Does this sound like a time in history you would like to know more about? If so,
you may order the book Mary's Diarywww.marilynshistoricalnovels.com on line from my website.

Unexpected Christmas Surprise

Here's something I came across just by chance so I took a screen shot of it:

Continue reading to see why it excited me so much. Excerpt from: That Book.

There is something so beautiful, sweet and  inspiring about Mary, the mother of Jesus. I can't seem to wrap my mind around the thought that she may have been only thirteen or fourteen when she had Baby Jesus  

That Mary is Fearful

Hurry, hurry, hurry! 

You are running out of time! Only a few more days and the deal is off!

Buy one book and get any other one free from now until Christmas Boxing Day. Got it? Here's your chance for a free book but the offer is off at midnight on the 26th. 

Run over to my website and see what grabs your attention.

The following is an excerpt from my "Christmas book.'

 www.marilynhistoricalnovels.com

Mary has gone to visit her Aunt Elisabeth, but in spite of all the enjoyable times, she worried much about how the man she was engaged to was going to treat her now that she was pregnant. The worst he could do was have her stoned. Sometimes Mary's throat would ache with anxiety.

What Happened to the Twins?

With bombs destroying nearby streets, air raid sirens screaming, and blackout curtains compulsory, Birmingham, England is a fearful place to be, but for a pregnant teenage war bride fleeing to Canada to be with her husband is a frightening option. 

Sailing on a ship with submarines lurking nearby makes her uneasy, but so do more personal fears. Does Randall still love her in spite of the fact she's already pregnant? Will her parents ever forgive her for marrying him? Will he be furious to find out she is expecting twins? Will it help if she gave one up for adoption since he doesn't know she is carrying two? 

Later she discovers that he had been deported from the army for a reason no one is talking about and soon after arriving home ends up in jail also for a mystifying reason! 

Grace has big problems but there is hope.

www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

 Two Mothers, Twin Daughters is the first in a series called Marita's Misery.  From now 'til the 24th of December, you may get two books for the price of one. If you send me a copy of your proof of purchase I will personally reimburse you.  For more books by this author go to www.marilynshistoricalnovels.com

http://www.youtube.com/watch/v=1VT

A Missive From Mary

(Dear Diary);

I will always be grateful to my elderly Uncle Zachariah for teaching me to read and write that long ago summer when I was ten. There are some thoughts that are too personal; too profound to give voice to but they must be shared, and writing is the best way.

In all sincerity, Mary’am (That’s my Aramaic name)