“Teach us to number our days, that we may present to Thee a heart of wisdom.” Psalm 90:12
Granny Hat and her better half are celebrating their first trip around the sun in the Treasure State. They have partied hard with family and friends all the live-long day (and days are very long here). This afternoon you will find Granny in the cool shade of a paper birch tree with her feet up for a summer siesta and a stock- taking look at what she has learned. Granny is a firm believer in life-long learning. She knows now that one of the best things about relocating is that it requires embracing a different outlook, new grooves and a fresh start. The learning curve is long but rewarding. Here are a few things Granny Hat has learned or been reminded of as she has counted the days of the first year in a new place.
Country folks are country folks no matter the weather. It isn’t WHAT you know, it’s WHO you know. Granny has been blessed with friendly, helpful, sharing neighbors that have offered her a wealth of sage, seasoned wisdom about everything from gardening in northern climes to driving on icy winter roads.
Gardens DO grow in Northwest Montana but you might just have to……. wait…. for…. it……. Granny never heard of “feeling” the soil until this summer. But her gardening neighbors, Mark and Monica, assured her there would come a day when the soil would finally be warm to the touch, really warm. Then those delicate plants, who spent weeks just staring at the big sky waiting for life to begin, doubled in size overnight. It may be August but finally Granny’s corn is as high as the proverbial elephant’s eye…. well, maybe a baby elephant! Pumpkins are starting to peek out from under their leafy canopies, green beans and zucchini abound! Peppers, rosy red tomatoes, cilantro, tomatillos, onions and garlic for zesty salsa or pico de gallo grow gangbusters in Montana’s long, hot summer days…….and yet….
It is nearly impossible to find a legitimate burrito in the entire Treasure State. Granny Hat, Dad and the grandsons found one humble, unassuming taco truck called La Fiesta Mexicana in Dillon Montana that knows what is what when it comes to Mexican food. But Dillon is 4 hours away! Closer to home is a quaint place called La Casita on the way to Glacier National Park that only opens for lunch in the summer and only when they feel like it. But their burritos and tacos are the real deal and their sauces are award winning. If a fresh lime comes with your chili relleno, yeah, that’s not native!
Montana gophers are not as smart as California gophers.(this from the Mighty Gopher Hunter, Granny’s better half!)
There truly is a bigger sky above the 45th parallel; “they” say that the illusion of Big Sky just has to do with sparse population and few city structures blocking the view, but Granny Hat thinks there are other reasons. There are almost always clouds, even on a hot sunny day and they move so quickly they give the sky a three-dimensional quality. Except for the occasional fire season haze, the sky in Montana is crystal clear and looks expansive. And Granny wonders about the latitude – the sun’s path from rising to setting is somewhat diagonal making the sky seem stretched.
“The heavens declare the glory of God and the firmament shows His handiwork.” Psalm 19:1
Granny Hat and dad are not the only California refugees who came up with the brilliant idea of heading far north to Montana. To quote America, the band, “Everyone I meet is from California! There’s dancin’ in the streets in California.” Only, these days you might have to replace the word “dancin’” with something else. Granny doesn’t even want to go there……..
Despite a steady influx of people in the Treasure State, the wildlife still ventures confidently on ancient paths right through fields and over neighborhood fences to graze and forage; elk, deer, wild turkeys, bears, even the occasional moose are not daunted by tractors and side by sides. They still own the land. A mama black bear and her two cubs have been spotted across Granny’s street.
Granny Hat worried about missing the Pacific Ocean when she moved. She is happy to report that there are beaches in the Rocky Mountains without annoying tides or deadly sharks. The glacial water is still something to be respected though; it can be very cold and might capriciously capsize a canoe and carry off your lunch. Dad learned this recently. The rivers in Granny’s valley look lazy but, in this case, the still waters are not deep, the deep waters race pell mell south to see who can first reach Flathead Lake, a lake so large you can spend an afternoon sitting on its banks and imagine an ocean view.
Granny and dad have been reminded this summer that they are loved. So many family and friends came to visit. It was a treat to show them new places and spend time hiking, rafting, fishing, cherry picking, ice cream parlor sampling, picnicking, sightseeing and alpine sliding! A special treat was having Tennessee granddaughters come in May for a long stay and some Nebraska grandsons who spent several summer weeks in Montana.
Wasps of all sorts, yellow jackets, hornets and their ilk, flourish here. They don’t have long for a summer dance before cold weather returns so they build paper nests overnight, lay eggs, hatch and attack with a vengeance. Granny’s better half has also become the “Mighty Hornet Hunter”, venturing out in the cool mornings on the offense. Apparently, some wasps nest in abandoned ground-squirrel holes and come swarming up from the deep when you least suspect. This is common up on Granny’s grandkids’ mountain. Owls to the rescue! We will all be putting up owl boxes this coming year. The woods here are home to Great Horned, Barred, Snowy, Screech, and Boreal Owl among others. Come one, come all!
Granny Hat learned just how quickly a year goes by, each day tumbles to the next, every season melts away. So the next lesson on her continuing education list has nothing to do with location, moving or Big Sky. This word from her heart is universal and nationwide. We need a revival in our land, a return to our judeo-christian roots, really a renewed love for the Word of God which never returns void (Isaiah 55:11), pierces our heart judging our thoughts and intentions (Hebrews 4:11) and is a lamp that lights the path we should walk (Psalm 119:105).
2022 has been another year of extreme division in our nation, in our society, in families and in the church. Believers in Jesus Christ aren’t salty enough in Granny’s opinion (she has been told recently to always say “in my opinion” even when she is quoting someone else’s opinions). We have fallen asleep to the lulling sounds of our peace and prosperity symphony. We don’t stand up for much and we speak in hushed tones about our convictions. Maybe this is changing, Granny sees signs of a great awakening. The years fly by, we must redeem the time. Make every day count!
On Sunday, Granny was reminded of the power of the smallest book in the New Testament, Jude. The writer appeals to his readers to “contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all delivered to the saints.” Contending isn’t popular, can almost be seen as confrontational, it certainly isn’t all-inclusive and it is opinionated. Without love, it can easily become Contention. Granny is hoping to learn more about contending for the faith with love and mercy in her heart.
Lastly, Granny was reminded by her garden that we reap what we sow. There are some mystery plants out there that Granny didn’t mark very well – they are some sort of gourd type vegetables, maybe pumpkins, maybe squashes. Granny Hat will have to wait until the fruit is mature to identify them. The fruit is the ultimate tell- tale verdict. Be care what you sow, what you water, what you tend.
“For they sow the wind, and they reap the whirlwind.” Hosea 8:7
“Every day is a journal page, Every man holds a quill and ink, And there’s plenty of room for writing in All we do and believe and think. So will you compose a curse Or will today bring blessing? Fill the page with rhyming verse Or some random sketching.
Teach us to count the days, Teach us to make the days count, Lead us in better ways. Somehow our souls forgot Life means so much, life means so much…
Every day is a bank account. And time is our currency. So no one’s rich, nobody’s poor. We get twenty-four hours each. So how are you gonna spend? Will you invest or squander? Try to get ahead Or help someone who’s under? Teach us to count the days….” Chris Rice
Happy rest of summer!
Granny Hat 