"Love Nest!"

"Love Nest"

By, Cheryl Harwell Bailey

A brilliant husband is not threatened by a successful wife. He runs beside her.

He watches her cook,

 amazed she creates meals everyday,

 he can't wait to devour.

 He shakes his head, as he watches her

 juggle so many tasks with patience.

 She makes an abode fit for King, on a paupers budget.

 These gentlemen take notice and sincerely appreciate her "God" given talents,
 gifts, & contributions.

 This ideal man encourages his lady to be gutsy, 

believing she can do anything.

 As she climbs the mountain, he pulls her up,

 all the way, cheering her on.

 Every girl should have a "Husband" like that, 

or at the very least a "Father." 

If she does, watch out world.

 As for her "Husband,"

 she will love this man more than anyone ever has,

 and she will love him all the days of her life.

 This is what it takes to build and maintain a "Love Nest."

"Nesting Season"
By, Cheryl Harwell Bailey

No matter what part of the planet we inhabit;

 what moment in time we occupy;  

what we look like;

 what education or economic status we reach, 

married or single,

   a deep common thread runs through out, woman-kind.
We are "nesters."

 We "nesters," have enormous blasts of creativity, and energy.
We can't help it! I LOVE being a woman, and I LOVE being a "nester."

This is why the desire to feather the "NEST," is a passion in every female.
 From the time we are able to toddle, we are having tea parties, baking mud pies, and drawing our "playhouse" in the dirt.
 Practicing the desires of our hearts even then.

 If we are not feathering the "Nest," we are feathering our hair, faces, & body.
 I have been fortunate to visit many countries & cultures around the globe
 and observed this "sameness." 

 Nesting is the "Brown Betty" tea pot, waiting as she hears the whistling tea kettle.
 Grandma's Pyrex pie plate longing to be fat with apples or pumpkin. 
The sterling silver pie server bursting with "just polished" pride.
 The laundry all puffy and fragrant, asking to be touched. 
What blessed contentment we feel. 

I am honored, to have been given, a few heirlooms from many generations back. 
Tears are hard to hold back when I remember 
my loving grandmothers also used & felt these objects. 

These little treasures are priceless to me.

I've not met a woman yet, who doesn't love, Great Grandma's cup & saucer.
Indeed, new and modern objects are costly, and lack memories.

 Isn't it nice that we do not need mountains of money to "Nest?"

All a girl needs is her imagination, and some "hand me down" treasures. 

The "Nest" is the place to be perfectly secluded & cozy. 
To feel peaceful, snug, shutting out the world. 
 As family, we sit reading, watching, and talking as "God" intended. 
Like all the generations before.

Nesting at it's finest is cradling our babies in our arms.
Rocking them as we sing lullabies!
It is impossible to express the deep love I feel for my children and grandchildren.
The only thing I want to be remembered for, is being a loving wife, and mother.

One young woman in particular, was the greatest nester of all time.
In a barn, in a "nest" made of hay, she gave birth to Jesus Christ!
To the baby boy who would split time into. 
B.C. Before Christ,
A.D. Anno Domini,
No other person on planet earth has had the power to do this.
No one else!

Each time we write todays date down, we acknowledge Jesus Christ!
And we remember His sweet teenage mother was "Mary."
  I believe Mary was chosen by God the Father, for many reasons.
The Bible says,
Gabriel the Arch Angel told her she was "highly favored,"
among women.
I think it is safe to say Mary,
 knew the difference between a house and a home.
Marys  passionate soul hungered to be a Godly wife and mother.

Mary did not go traipsing off to do her own thing.
She did however make a true home for her family.
The highly favored young wife and mother 
made a nest  fit for   
God the Son!

If God has honored us with a family,
let us make them a home at Christmas, indeed every day of the year!

   The Oklahoma Girl
By, Cheryl Harwell Bailey

The Oklahoma girl was my grandma Nancy Harwell.

 Even though I'm a bonafide California girl,
 born in Santa Cruz, raised in "Cowboyville" aka Bakersfield, 
I have alot of Oklahoma in me.
 Especially in the kitchen. 
This is one reason I don't have a "California Girl" figure.

 Today for supper, I'm cookin' like "Grandma."
 "Jake" is whining at the back door, 
sticking his  big head through "Sophie's" tiny doggy door. 
He smells pork chops frying in the skillet. 
Sometimes I just can't help it, cooking like "The Oklahoma Girl."
 I know cooking like a proper "California Girl" is much better health wise, 
but on occasion I have allow my stove and soul, some real food! 

Post Script:

Today is April 18, 2012.
 I wrote the above blog on Nov. 4, 2010, in honor of Grandma's Birthday.
 This afternoon I found a poem she wrote.
 I couldn't believe my eyes.
 It's title is "The Oklahoma Girl"
 Wow!
 I get chills when "God" whispers in such a personal way.
 I NEVER heard her refer to herself as "The Oklahoma Girl."
 Nov. 4, 2010 I thought I was being so creative, so original. 
"Not!"