Small Glimpses

Second Blessing

2012-01-29T13:36:00.000-06:00

I hand wrote a blog entry about Abbie back in the spring of 2008 about 8 months after Alafair died. I found it the other day and decided today seemed the perfect day. :)

~*~

I've been wanting to post this story on my blog for awhile and today seems the perfect day. Both B and I feel a lot of sadness over missing our Alafair. Although we think of her daily, the tears are not as frequent. For whatever reason we miss her very much today.

Earlier this year over New Year's weekend two of our nieces and my in-laws came for visit. During a conversation with the 16 year old, she asked why we named our newest addition "Abbie".

Our Abbie -
taken Jan 1, 2012

Abbie came to us named "Maggie", but one day shortly after we adopted her from Second Chance, I was hugging on her and talking to her. I accidentally called her "Abbie" without even thinking. After the words passed my lips tears unexpectedly welled up in my eyes. The name seemed a perfect fit.

I told my niece this story and she said the sweetest thing. She had wondered if we named her Abbie because the name means "Blessing" and she saw Abbie as being a "second" blessing to us.

The thing is Abbie has been so good for us since the first day we adopted her just a few weeks before Alafair died. When Alafair was so sick Abbie would do something to make us smile. And after we said our goodbyes once again Abbie helped us get through those initial heart breaking days.

She loves us and we love her. Abbie truly is a "second" blessing.

~*~

As I complete the finishing touches on the blog entry, my Abbie is sleeping right next to me on the couch with her head touching my thigh. Yes, she is an Abbie.

The Sound of Music

2012-01-27T18:40:00.001-06:00

Of late I've found myself listening to George Winston's December in the early pre-dawn hours. Waking about 3am racing thoughts of incomplete projects and open issues swirl around my brain. Listening to these piano compositions slow my heart rate and calm my thoughts. Usually I fall back to sleep during the opening track entitled, "Thanksgiving."

I first heard the album in 1982 while studying in the Music Lounge during my freshman year of college. Several years later we bought cassette tape and eventually the CD. Fast forward to 2006 and the music found its way onto my first iPod, but remained unplayed for many years.

I'm not sure what prompted me to call up the album recently. Of late I've discovered that music infused with piano leaves tracks of something good in me. My husband and I recently heard Jimmy Webb play his original compositions on a huge grand piano in a 100 seat venue. At times tears welled in my eyes from an unknown place.

As I've been musing about this, I remembered that most afternoons while growing up my mom played our piano for an hour or so before starting dinner. I expect this was something she did even before she and Dad married. I can't help but wonder if since my conception piano instrumentals have been part of me. Who knows and in some ways it doesn't matter. I just know that this sound of music is delicate and tender in my soul.

P.S. I just now learned that George Winton released a 20th anniversary edition this year.

Our Loyal Streak

2011-12-17T16:05:00.000-06:00

I've been needing and wanting to write this blog entry since we said our last goodbyes to our faithful and devoted Streak. It still hurts very much when I reflect on his last 7 months after we discovered he had lymphoma. At the time he was still strong and had much life for a 13 year old. He still wanted to be with us and none of us were ready to say goodbye. But by the time of his last treatment 8 months later we knew it was time and Streak let us know as well.

A good friend of mine shared something that comforted me during Streak's last year. She said Streak had a God appointed job to be with us. His job was to be fearlessly loyal from the first day he came to us to his last and Streak did just that especially with Brad. He was appointed to be Brad's guardian. To bring Brad life and to bring him healing. To be his companion and to demonstrate loyalty and devotion.

One of my favorite memories is seeing Streak and Brad as they walked up the stone path we laid in memory of our Alafair. Streak would be right next to Brad as they walked to the house. Another special memory is of Streak wanting to be with Brad after he finished breakfast. After his last bite he would trot back to the bedroom and wait for me to open the bedroom door. Up on the bed, he would jump and most times snuggle in next to Brad; always close and always there.

We called Streak "our sentry". When we let him outside he took several laps around the yard, not playful but very deliberate and dutiful. Once secured then it seemed he relaxed. Streak is the first dog I ever saw smile (or that I realized smiled) ~ His eyes bright, ears high on his head, tongue visible with his cheeks pulled back to his ears.

Our last day with Streak was April 7. It was a Thursday. A week earlier we realized that an additional treatment would be too much for our little buddy. Reconciling to that reality was hard, but we knew the time was coming. His breathing seemed labored and his panting more frequent. We could tell the pain in his eyes had intensified. On Wednesday night we decided it was time and we would take him to the vet in the morning. That night I slept at the foot of the bed with him. I wanted to be close and to comfort him, pet him, and talk to him.

Without a doubt Streak completed his appointed purpose on this earth and in his death he gave us two gifts. He gave us back our memories of Alafair and delivered us our sweet Grace.

July 2007 - Alafair, me, and Streak

In retrospect neither Brad nor I really worked through loosing Alafair. Her last days were so unexpected and so, so painful. When we needed to put her down it was too painful and neither of us could be there. Deep down I always felt I'd let her down. I decided with Streak that no matter how painful that I would be with him through the end. Brad and I both stayed with him and as it turns out it was peaceful, sacred, not scary. I stayed a few moments alone with Streak. I bent down, kissed his muzzle and then whispered in his ear to tell Alafair that I was so very, very sorry and that I loved her and missed her. Tears rolled down my checks and I said goodbye. The next morning for the first time since Alafair died in 2007, I looked at pictures of her and watched several videos. Hearing her bark and watching her play with Streak was so tenderly sweet.

A week or so after Streak died Brad's Mom called and said her friend's daughter wanted to give us a Border Collie. She heard about our Streak, never met him but knew how much he meant to us. During the conversation my mother-in-law mentioned that if we didn't want the puppy that she might take it. She'd been thinking about adding a dog to their family, too. Brad and I talked about it but decided it was too soon. So Brad called to say we would pass. Turns out they were offering two puppies: one for Brad's Mom and Dad, and one for us. At this point we knew it was meant to be. Three weeks later we drove to Colorado to meet our new puppy. We named her Grace.

So Streak knew better than we did. He knew we needed Grace. He knew the grief would be too much. He knew we need not hang onto regrets and we needed to receive forgiveness. He hung on through the treatments to the most perfect day when we all could say our earthly goodbyes and then soon would be able to welcome another bundle of puppy joy into our home.

Streak, thank you for loving us.

Thank you for your loyalty and devotion.

Thank you for being Brad's friend and companion.

Thank you for getting us out to meet our neighbors

and teaching us to appreciate and enjoy the little things

especially puppy smiles.

We miss you dearly.

Storms

2011-11-19T12:02:00.001-06:00

Many storms have come and gone, but weathered still. Some brought high winds, lots of rain. Others brought parched conditions, lack of rain. Stressed, yes, but not defeated. Broken limbs, some quite large and yet the trunk remains rooted and strong.

But this most recent storm feels more than I can bear. My limbs are burdened by inches and inches of thick ice. Their weight so heavy; I hear and feel it. Tears fall and cries speak, "It is too much; too much to bear and too much to endure." The wind howls; the sun nowhere to be seen. The days are cold. Hope seems so far away and a thing of the distant past. I wonder if I will survive this time in tact. In the middle of the storm it's hard to remember or to hope this is only a season.

Though as I write these words I remember I am still standing, still firmly grounded and deeply rooted. This is my truth, my reality, but difficult to remember for also in my present reality my own branches creak and crack. Some break and fall to the ground.

My consolation today is our beautiful maple tree. It has lost many branches, yet continues to endure the many, many Oklahoma storms and remains grounded and rooted. Its colors beautiful again this year.

Blessed are those who delight in the law of the LORD

and meditate on His law day and night.

They are like a tree planted by streams of water which yields its fruit in season

and whose leaf does not wither.

Psalm 1:2-3

Our Maple - 2011

A Cup of Tea

2010-08-20T11:15:00.004-05:00

One evening recently I wrote the words, "I choose you!" at the top of my journal. Earlier that day I'd been writing about a difficult experience during an otherwise great visit with my two sisters this summer. A question came from a tender place.

"Would my sister choose me?"

Some history is needed to put this in context. Sometimes I struggle to believe and to trust my sisters' love for me. Most of the time I know it, but invariably when all three of us get together an old familiar pattern gets triggered and I lose hold. Old feelings of being on the outside and never in the "inner circle" drift in and stay.

As I let the question linger for awhile, a memory came back when I was a little girl. One of my sisters had a secret club with a close friend of hers. They had a special box, a special language, and even a special password. Their creativity was quite impressive and they had a blast playing together. One day I asked if I could be in the club. Sadly, the answer back was "No". I'm sure my little heart was completely broken. As an adult I understand the dynamic and impulse between siblings, but that little girl in me still hurt very much.

A bit later that day while pondering this memory, I saw a picture of myself as a little girl and with no one to share her tea. I hurt for her broken heart and for the seeds of rejection that often get planted at a young vulnerable age. I felt much compassion for her. I imagined going up to her and saying, "Hello there. What'cha doing?" She looked up shyly and I asked if I could share a cup of tea. She smiled and immediately poured the invisible tea into our tea cups.

"This is a very pretty tea set." She smiled again and showed me the beautiful flowers on the cups and saucers. I find her completely delightful as I sit in the tiny chair holding the tiny cup from the tiny tea set. "This tea is fabulous. May I have more?" and she asks, "Would you like some cookies, too?" We talk a bit and I ask more questions and then she begins to chat on and on as little kids do carrying on a one-way conversation that I don't completely follow. It was delightful. She was delightful.

*~*

In the course of working through our difficulty, my sisters asked me something that in some ways startled me. They asked me to trust that they love me. Years ago a dear friend told me something I've never forgotten. We were walking through a rough patch and I wanted to pull back and retreat into a protective shell. At some point she said, "I trust the God in you". Her words conveyed to me that she trusted the God I knew and she trusted His working in my life. It meant so much to me that she was not going to leave our friendship.

Parts of me wanted to pull away and question my sisters' commitment and love. My pattern is to choose this path, but for some reason I didn't take it this time. I rehearsed over and over again during the sleepless night that my sisters both love me and are committed to me. I could see each of their faces saying these words and I clung to this during the struggle.

Maybe I won a battle that night as I chose to resist the temptation to disbelieve their commitment. Perhaps maybe in this sleepless night I believed I too am worth choosing.

*~*

Never will I leave you;

never will I forsake you.

Hebrews 13:5

UPDATE: Yesterday, I shared my blog post with a dear friend and she later posted the tea set photo on her Facebook with the words, "Tea anyone? Lisa?". Brought joy to my heart, so I had to attach to the blog post. She took this photo at a tea party with her granddaughter who supplied the bunny crackers and gummy bunnies.

Tornado Dream

2010-05-23T14:37:00.005-05:00

Lately, I've been thinking about a poignant dream I had back in the spring of 1997. I still remember it quite clearly and it comes back to memory frequently. Not all my dreams are significant, but this one seemed different. At the time I'd just started journaling again and I recorded the dream in my new journal. It is the 2nd entry, the first written several days earlier while on a plane for a week long business trip with two colleagues. It was on my mind when I wrote my last post and also on my mind recently when I saw the word "surround" in Psalm 17.

My God...hide me in the shadow of your wings...from my mortal enemies who surround me. (Ps. 17:8-9)

The dream was about a fierce tornado that swirled angrily overhead in an attempt to consume a building where I took cover. When it failed, it then shriveled into a "drunk man". I've always called it the tornado man. Here is how I described it that day in my journal.

*~*~*

I was with hundreds of people and a tornado was coming. We had plenty of warning. P.C. [My manager at the time of the dream] was in charge and delivered the message to take cover under the cover of this big building. In my thoughts I said, "this is crazy because the worst place to be in a tornado is in a big open room". But somehow I was told that the building would stay strong and would not collapse, bend or break with this tornado.

I watched as the tornado approached the building. [At this point I was watching the tornado from outside the building much like a changed viewpoint in a movie.] It came close, then backed away. Then suddenly it enveloped the building trying to suck us all out. I kept hearing the words to stay put. We would be okay as long as we stayed under the cover. Just then several people fled from the building. As soon as they left they were totally thrown about.

Then the tornado turned into a man and started walking on the ground with a knife as if to kill someone. The tornado man looked drunk. Someone tackled him from behind, brought him down and was going to kill him with a gun. But the tornado man turned and spoke the words "it is not for you to kill me" and then looked directly at me indicating that I must slay him. Indicating that next time it was important for me to do this.

*~*~*

As I reflected on this dream the other day, I wrote these words in my journal, "Tornados are unpredictable. They are fierce and yet majestically scary. Seeing the size of this F4 in pictures this morning scared me [especially this one]. They are not to be taken lightly...at all. Tornados are a destructive force. They swirl. They churn. They consume. They burst apart. They destroy."

Thinking about my dream took me back to some painful memories during my senior year in high school. The big building in my dream was actually the band room at my high school. Much like I did with the "Pretty Blue Dress" in the Talbot's window, I'm going to see where this connection takes me. We shall see. Perhaps I'll get to recover a precious story. :)

Finding My Stories

2010-05-15T17:47:00.015-05:00

In my attempts to "Reach Out" more in 2010, I want to share some of my stories. Maybe it's actually getting back my stories. Last week at lunch with my Wednesday lunch friend, I shared about an "untangling" that's happening in my life. A painful, but good untangling.

This is an old, old pain and one with lots of layers and a long cyclical history. Some of the tentacles are from being a "causality of war" in a family confronting addiction and the resulting family dysfunctions and coping mechanisms that inevitably result.

As we talked something in what I shared evoked a memory in my friend of an NPR story from several years ago. Out of pure giving, a man sat on the Washington DC mall with his typewriter and listened to people's stories. He then typed up a short paragraph on what he heard, in essense giving back their story. Tears welled up in her eyes. I asked why. Her answer was, "I would be so honored to give people back their stories."

I don't know exactly what this means, but it touched a broken place in my heart. Perhaps because in some ways I feel like my family after at least 30 years of sobriety have never dealt openly with the wreckage of addition and codependency. In the hidden turmoil, I think I lost my stories or lost those things most precious to me. Maybe this "reaching out" is a way for me to reclaim what's most meaningful to me.

Recently my city was hit by several damaging tornados. Dear friends of our neighbor lost their house. They've returned to the property several times recovering what they can and hoping to find their most precious things. (We recently heard they found a very dear 1929 banjo; a treasured possession of the wife who is an artist and musician.). We all know it's a long painful process for this family. They are grateful to be alive and now they face the destruction; sifting, sorting, remembering ... keeping, tossing ... weeping, expressing gratitude.

They can't just walk away from their house and possessions and yet it feels like my family "walked" away from the wreckage once sobriety came. Few acknowledgements of the dysfunctions that contributed to the addiction or that grew from coping with the confusion.

At lunch my friend also shared a story from the Big Book that so aptly applies. Here is the full text:

The alcoholic is like a tornado roaring his way through the lives of others. Hearts are broken. Sweet relationships are dead. Affections have been uprooted. Selfish and inconsiderate habits have kept the home in turmoil. We feel a man [*or a family member] is unthinking when he says that sobriety is enough. He is like the farmer who came up out of his cyclone cellar to find his home ruined. To his wife, he remarked, "Don't see anything the matter here, Ma. Ain't it grand the wind stopped blowin'?" (pg. 52)

[* comment added by my friend.)

So I take courage from those facing the turmoil and loss from the tornados and I begin sifting through my stories. I hope to find those most precious to me even if they might show water damage, broken glass, or only a partial picture.

I am believing there is beauty even in these.

NOTE: Tornado photo courtesy KOCO.

Pretty Blue Dress

2010-04-10T12:17:00.008-05:00

There is a pretty blue dress in the Talbots window that I've been seeing these past few weeks on our way to Starbucks. It keeps catching my eye, but I didn't realize until today that it evokes sadness. I decided to find out the message in the little blue dress and here's what came to me.

It reminds me of a similarly hued hand-me down from my sister. I loved this dress especially because it was, what one of my nieces' calls, a "twirly dress". I also loved how the dress looked on my sister. It complimented her sweet personality and she looked beautiful and happy.

I'm the youngest of three girls and envied everything about my middle sister. Through these last several years I've come to terms with the reasons and worked through most of it (I hope). I've come to appreciate our differences and very much cherish our friendship and growing trust.

This is a little bit strange, but I think what hit me deeply about the Talbots' dress is this: this is a dress I think I'm supposed to want to wear, but it wouldn't look good on me. For one thing, powder blue not a good color on me, but more than that the style doesn't fit my personality.

I think I tried to live in this view of myself for a long, long time. But this isn't me. I'm not sure what dress is me, but today I'm realizing I don't have to choose, nor wear this pretty blue dress.

I may just go out to the Talbots web site and find a pretty dress that screams "that's me!"

Resetting Expectations

2010-02-13T11:28:00.003-06:00

I've been thinking a lot about level setting expectations these last few months. I'm currently working with a team to develop a new software product. As it turns out it is a fairly visible project within our organization. I hate this. I much prefer to work under the radar. Since it's more visible it needs more "care and feeding" so to speak. We have a standard process for managing projects which includes something called Risk Management. The idea is to spend time up front identifying risks, defining a mitigation plan either to eliminate the risk or a plan to reduce its impact should the risk manifest. The idea is to think through potential issues first before they blow-up and impact the cost, schedule or scope. Important, but not easy.

Earlier this year I hit a wall (not literally) of frustration. Normally, the project manager is responsible for identifying and managing the project risks. Although on past projects, I've been the project manager but on this project I have a different role. Unfortunately, the project manager hasn't focused on this. We've stumbled our way to completing the first phase and will release the product on Monday, but it hasn't been easy and it hasn't been pretty.

During my fit of frustration my husband gave me a new metaphor to approach this project. My expectations were that we deliver the product successfully, but also by following all the processes. The problem is we have too much to do in the time alloted. He helped me to see that maybe this is more like a first-run marathon. That we finish is the success, not that we finish first. Not an easy thing for a recovering workaholic and perfectionist.

One, two, Three...the answer is Three.

2010-02-10T21:24:00.006-06:00

A funny memory came back to me today. My co-worker has a candy dish on his desk full of Hershey kisses, starbursts, jolly ranchers, and tootsie roll pops. I haven't seen a Tootsie Roll pop in ages. My defenses were down (stress up) and I grabbed one of the suckers. I instantly remembered when I was about 9. My middle sister (11 at the time) decided she would answer the question posed at the end of the famous commercial. She licked and licked and licked and licked...each time keeping track on a pad of paper.

Me on the other hand. One, two, three...crunch.

P.S. Guess what my sister does for a living. She's an accountant. Me...not an accountant. :)

Front Windows and my 2010 Word

2010-01-30T09:07:00.009-06:00

I love sitting on my couch looking out the front window. As the seasons change so does my view. Today this is what Abbie (my dog) and I see. We've experienced a wintry mix during this storm, so the tree limbs and branches are encased in .5 of ice and 6 inches of snow cover everything. Our power lines are still intact but drooping heavily.

It's been awhile since I last blogged. I miss it. I miss not finishing our home improvement chronology (btw...it turned out beautifully) and documenting my "Unravelling" journey through photography.

Several weeks ago I read a post from the creator of the Unravelling course about picking a word for the year. I pondered the idea for several days and wondered if I'd like to try.

While driving back from the grocery store (or maybe Starbucks) two words came to mind: REACH OUT.

I like them. I am intrigued. I'm intimidated and scared...but I'm interested and willing. I'm not exactly sure what this will mean to me or for me, but I know it has to do with being braver in connecting. In know it means blogging more, especially about topics busting within me.

So, we shall see what a year of reaching out looks like for Small Glimpses.

My Grandma's Animal Families

2009-05-31T17:30:00.007-05:00

1. Grandma's Animal Families, 2. Ducks, 3. Kangaroos, 4. Sheep

I've struggled a bit with the Unravelling- Favourites photo assignment and I'm not sure why. But as I thought about more of my favourite things I remembered my Grandmother's collection of Animal Families. As long as I can recall she collected these little figurines. She displayed them on one of her window sills. As a little girl I remember her showing me her latest addition. I also remember her sharing about different types of families; some had lots of children, some no children, some with only a mom or dad. Some were blended families and some had adopted children. (In fact the sheep family is just that. Two of the little lambs have different faces than the other little lamb.) I think she even had several single member families.

I think she had upwards of 50+ families - farm animals, sea creatures, even some insects. When she died my dad and his siblings split up the collection and my father graciously gave me and my sisters each three families.

I had forgotten how special these little things are to me. They were on a kitchen shelf just catching dust. I washed each one individually and found myself talking to the little things. I wondered if my grandmother did the same thing when she dusted them.

As I write these words I realize how much I miss her. She died in 1995 which was before I knew for sure that I couldn't have kids. I suspected as much, but hadn't reconciled to it emotionally. As my husband and I worked through the grief we came to the place of seeing ourselves as a family even though we didn't have kids. I imagine that my grandmother planted this truth deep in my heart before I knew this would my path.

Home Improvements - No Turning Back

2009-05-23T08:35:00.000-05:00

The moment I realized there was no turning back was not when they poured the concrete cap and bolted down the 1 ton tornado shelter. The moment was when I took this photo. I am standing inside the garage noticing that we can no longer drive anything into this space because of the new stem wall.

The photo below is the stem wall from the outside. Our ingenious contractor rigged the garage door so it's still usable making it easy for them to bring in equipment and supplies.

We plan to install a 4'x6' window that matches the one on the other end the house and landscape in front of this area.

P.S. This week our contractor installed our new side door. It is WAY cool, though we discovered we'll need to adjust the height of the original steps. The rise from top step into the house is 6" higher than standard. A bit of a hazard.

My Travel Companions

2009-05-23T07:03:00.004-05:00

I took this picture the other day while reflecting on the importance of journaling to me and also working on "My Favorite Things" Week 3 Unravelling photo assignment. The journal on the left is the #1 journal my husband bought me 12 years ago.

The first entry is March 31st, 1997 and the last entry is January 15th of the next year. This time period bookends a huge turning point in my life. My paid work consumed me and had for several years. During this time I began realizing I desperately wanted balance back in my life (or maybe balance for this first time in my life. Not sure which is more accurate). Around Christmastime of that year, I heard a sermon about "balance" communicated through a very helpful acronym. As I drove home (a 55 minute drive), I remember seeing my life next to the life depicted in the acronym. In that moment it was crystal clear how completely out of balance my life had become.

Several weeks later, actually the first work day of the new year, I was laid off. It was a shock to be sure, but it began an important leg of my life's journey. This event was definitely a "tear out" event and included lots of rebuilding and restoring. The fingerprints of God were definitely evident to me. I can honestly say that being laid off was one of the most important events in my life and has resulted in huge blessings to me, my husband, and our families.

P.S. The peacock journal is my travel companion for my "Unravelling" journey. I bought this journal sometime last year and for some reason it seemed right for this time.

Home Improvement Unravelling

2009-05-22T15:42:00.010-05:00

It dawned on me the other day while working on my Unravelling photo assignment for Week 2 that the unravelling process looks a lot like the home improvement process. I realized that sometimes we need to tear out something (i.e. let go of an unhealthy attachment) before we can see and experience our desired change. Often it doesn't look too pretty, but in time there will be a blessing.

I took this photo a few days before receiving the photo assignment from Susannah. Our task was to shoot photos of our reflections in literally whatever or wherever we could see them. I love this photo because it inspires me to continue the process of "unravelling" along with rebuilding, restoring, and renewing.

Explanation Notes: This is the new stem wall where the garage door entrance used to be. (I had no idea what this was until we started this process).

Home Improvements – Decision Triggers

2009-05-19T18:09:00.009-05:00

We've pondered remodeling on and off for several years. Most of the time it was daydreaming and free thinking about possibilities. Oddly, however, the thing that propelled us into actually putting the plan into action was a possible move out of the state.

At this time last year we considered a 1-year move with the possibility for a longer term position (though not guaranteed). The location was about 90 minutes from my mom and dad and within 6-7 hours of my husband’s parents. On one hand it seemed the perfect move for us, but after considering several factors we decided it was too risky.

For starters, we weren’t entirely sure I could find a job in my field in the community and that meant looking 60 to 90 miles away with scary winter travel. Another option was for me to stay here and commute back and forth. But the question of the animals was not easy. Would B take all the animals or would he take two and leave two with me? Those goodbyes would be horrible. When we shared about the potential move with one of our nieces her comment was, “When I think of my aunt and uncle, I just see you two together and not apart.” We decided we agree. (We are discovering she’s pretty wise and she’s only 17!!) All things considered we decided this was not a good fit for either B or me, so B pulled himself out of the job search.

Once we made this decision to stay we got more serious about the remodel. Oddly, the more we talked the more it seemed to make sense despite of the economic conditions. Having a second bathroom is good for resell as is an in-house tornado shelter especially in OK. Finally, we decided that investing in the local economy was something we wanted to do and something we could do. So far no regrets. Some fears, but no regrets.

P.S. Ironically, we used the storm shelter the other night!!! Bad storms rolled into our county about 10:00pm and the tornado warning sirens blared as we went under a Tornado Warning. When the local weather showed the storm tracker heading our way I freaked. I wanted to get the cats in their carriers while we were "relatively" calm. It didn't work too well evidenced by my cat-scratched arms. Turns out no tornado dipped down out of the angry storm clouds, but it was kinda scary at least for me. SO VERY NICE to have our own shelter to calm our fears. Absolutely no regrets!

NOTE: Photo courtesy Dave Mardis. Taken about 5 miles east of us.

Sweet Comfort

2009-05-12T18:54:00.008-05:00

Molly is sitting beside my computer. She is very sweet and she's doing that semi-nap thing, e.g. eyes half closed, head dropped, just quiet. Today she provides me comfort and reminds me that I am loved. I am grateful for our animals' intuition. (This is an old picture, but one of my favorite.)

Today I remember my childhood dog, Candy. She was a collie and our beloved dog. My memory was of a time when I was really sad. I sat on the back porch and Candy came over. She sidled up under my arm. I cried and she licked my tears. It's a precious memory for me.

Journaling

2009-05-08T19:36:00.005-05:00

I love experiencing ink flowing out of my pen onto paper through the movement of my hand. I marvel that words actually convey meaning to others. I've always loved writing, but didn't start journaling until college, spurred on by an assignment in my freshman psychology class.

After this I wrote regularly for about 6 years, but what started out nakedly honest became a checklist: adorations, confessions, thanksgivings, supplications. It actually wasn't completely this structured, but I lost touch with the joy of writing. Since then I've given up checklist living. I just can't measure up. More than this, though, I now know that I don't want to measure up because this measure is crooked.

When I returned to journaling in 1997 it was truly a godsend. My husband gave me my first journal. It was beautiful and had a # 1 written on it. So perfect for me. It represented a beginning and it truly was. Journaling is my safe place. When I returned to the practice I promised myself I would not censor and if possible no hiding. For the most part I've kept that promise.

~*~ *~ *~

My blog writing serves another purpose. With much encouragement from my husband and others it's been an anonymous space for me to find another voice. It's a shared space, more public, but still a relatively safe place for me. It's been a very good way for me to exercise this other voice, take courage, and give it a platform so to speak.

Flickr Meltdown

2009-05-05T12:41:00.009-05:00

I almost had an "identity meltdown" when I setup a Flickr account for class. I wasn't sure what name to use. Should I use my real name, my blog name, a combination of both, or a totally new name? Some names I wanted were already picked. In the end I chose a combination of both.

In teasing apart my Flickr induced "crisis" I realized that one thing I hope to work through in the unravelling class is integrating my "various selves". My life is not nearly as siloed as it used to be, but at times I am very aware of the various presentations of myself, i.e. my public face(s) to others. Some of this is very natural and perhaps necessary to survive and function successfully in life, but this "divided life" really bothers me. I think combining photography, observation and guided writing will be a good tool for me.

Beginnings

2009-05-03T21:34:00.013-05:00

Tomorrow I begin an e-course called "Unravelling: Ways of Seeing Myself" that was recommended to me by my friend. She took the course this spring and loved it. I know it will be both exciting and revealing. A running theme in my life this last year and half has been untangling some important facets of my life and my family history. It's been good, but not always easy. I'm looking forward, in the words of Susannah, "to LOOK. To observe. To investigate. And to find a new way to see ourselves and our own personal world."

Home Improvements - The Safe Room Part 2

2009-04-24T17:07:00.001-05:00

After doing lots of research and thinking through options my husband proposed installing one as part of our garage remodel. He first heard about the product from the retired fire chief of our city. (He's the husband of the lady who cuts our hair. She held an open house at her new shop and B struck up a conversation with him. You just never know where you'll learn information.)

The FamilySAFE product is multi-functional. It’s essentially a steel encased closet with a inward swing door so you don't get trapped inside. We’ll be able to store things in it especially during non-tornado season. Good for storing cat carriers, golf clubs, etc. Of course during tornado season it can't have TOO much stuff in it. :)

I'm excited to say they installed the safe room shelter on Wednesday. It is way cool! Looks a little weird right now since it's the only thing in the garage space. And another cool part. They took $400 off the price as a "Show Discount". Back in January we went up to the Home and Garden show so we could see one ourselves. They offered the discount to people who bought that day, but we weren't ready to commit. I'm impressed that they gave it to us anyway.

Our house is a pier and beam construction, so everything is about 25" off the ground. The cement cap in the photo will be under the floor, so this will essentially be a walk-in closet from the new bedroom. To the right will be the new 3/4 bathroom. Also, the safe room is constructed so you can hang drywall on the inside. I doubt we'll do that but will probably put in a nice floor, some shelves and a hanging rod.

Home Improvements - The Safe Room Part 1

2009-04-24T09:13:00.018-05:00

So what's a safe room?? Sounds kinda weird. I know. When B first mentioned the idea, I wasn't sure what to make of it. I'd never heard of such a thing. He'd been thinking about our difficulty finding a safe place during inclement weather (read tornadoes!!) with our beloved dogs and cats. Although our neighborhood has been spared from tornadoes, communities further north have not.

The May 1999 were frighteningly scary and too close for comfort (about 8 miles north as the crow flies). I remember the exact moment we realized we needed to make a decision about what to do. Should we stay? Should we go, but where? Who would accept 2 dogs and 2 cats? I completely froze in my decision making. (I now know you should already have a plan in place so you don't have to make these decisions when you are so stressed.) How grateful we were for our wonderful neighbors' invitation, the same ones who shared coffee with us during the 2007 ice storm. They invited us over; both cats and both dogs. Their house has a below ground shelter in the center of their house that normally functions as their laundry room.

Since then there have been a few times when we’ve huddled in the only place in our house with no windows. The problem. It has a large attic fan directly above. Not a good thing to be sitting below this.

(to be continued...)

Home Improvement – Risky Decisions

2009-04-21T14:00:00.010-05:00

We tossed around the idea of remodeling the garage for several years. I can take no credit, none whatsoever, for conceiving the idea or walking forward past the idea stage. I often tell B if it were up to me we wouldn’t have done any of the home improvements we’ve completed over the years. We would still have the cruddy old carpet, old windows, and probably still have old renters white paint throughout the house. And most certainly we would not have our awesome dishwasher (I love that thing).

Although I am relatively tight with money, the bigger reason for my hesitancy is risk. To accept risk is to risk failure. Fear of failure sometimes hamstrings me from even taking prudent risk. I realized that in some types of decisions I seek a 100% confidence in my decision, which means it takes an inordinate amount of time to make a decision and after making a decision I rethink it, which causes confusion for the people involved. This tendency happened again this weekend while we were discussing our improvement design. We worked through the conflict to a fruitful end, but it was a painful discussion.

This is a common theme in my life at the moment especially at work. I’m learning that taking risk sometimes means making decisions with only partial information. If I (or others) make a reasonable decision based on the information available at the time, then when new information or hindsight comes along I cannot judge that decision. I can learn from the process, but concluding that I or others are bad or imprudent is harsh. I think the lesson I’m learning is that evaluating myself or others using a moving target is not at all fair or just.

~~

I wonder what other lessons are in-store for me. Hopefully, the next few posts will be a little bit more light hearted. :)

Home Improvement - 3D Design

2009-04-14T22:07:00.003-05:00

Here is a 3D view of our remodeled space based on a 2nd mockup our contractor put together. One of our friends created it using Google SketchUp. (Thanks Greg!) I'm very impressed he figured out how to use the software. I tried my hand at the tool one afternoon, but to no avail. I know a little bit about AutoCAD, but this software was beyond me. :)

It was cool to see a 3D version as it gave us a feel for room flow etc. Since then we've made a few more changes especially with some windows, doors and the bathroom.

Home improvement - Designing the Space

2009-04-12T16:01:00.008-05:00

The space we are remodeling is about 240 sq ft. Here is a pic of our favorite design. A neighbor friend up the street does lots of remodeling of his rental homes. He and his partner own a number of rental properties around town. They are known for their small, cute properties with really unique design upgrades. He offered to mock up some designs for us and since we've never done this before we were very happy to pay for his services.

We thought it was wonderfully creative, but due to some practical complications we won't be able to go with it. Turns out according to city code the electrical panel cannot be in a bathroom or laundry room. Makes sense. Although we could move the panel we decided it wasn't worth the money.

This design gave us some great ideas and the one we are going with is very similar. This upfront process was a wonderful way to think through alternatives and assess (re-assess) our priorities.

NOTE: The space at the bottom on the drawing is the kitchen and the top of the drawing is the new guest room.

Home Improvements - Yippee! (at least so far)

2009-04-12T13:42:00.002-05:00

B and I are embarking on a home improvement project. We decided to convert our one-car garage into livable space with an expanded laundry room, guest room, 2nd bathroom, and last but not least a SAFE room (more on that in a later post). Oh and one more thing...a last minute add...a utility sink. We wrestled quite a bit with whether we should take the risk during the economic crisis, but decided given our situation now is a good time. More about that decision in a later post.

Recently a friend suggested I blog about this experience and I thought it might be kinda fun and a good way to document our experience. We are well through the planning and the physical work begins Monday.

I thought I would start at the beginning since a lot of work has happened up to this point in the planning, design, and preparation. Stay tuned...

Watering Troughs

2009-03-27T11:29:00.006-05:00

We are expecting some bad spring weather this evening and some snow fall through the night. It's raining now with a bit of thunder and Streak just jumped in my lap for a "it'll be okay, buddy" confirmation.

I took the dogs out of a walk and got back a few minutes ago. While walking I noticed a pretty little sight. The spring rains are pooling up on the broad leaves of these tiny little plants. I just thought it was so beautiful.

For some reason this sight speaks a message of hope into some of my dark places. Some of these places need some "It'll be okay, sweet one" and a drink from the watering troughs.

Molly's Carrier

2008-11-30T12:14:00.004-06:00

I thought I would post another story about Molly. It is easy for me to share about her and I'm not sure why. She is such a great kitty. Well, all our animals are ... each one in their own special way. :)

I remember a story about her when I took both cats to the vet several years ago. I had a really hard time getting her in the carrier. Unfortunately, I got anxious and she sensed that. She growled and growled. Not happy at all. Finally sweet Calvin, Molly, and I drove out of the driveway and on to the vet.

Calvin easily made it through his checkup, but when it came time to get Molly out of her carrier, she would have none of it. The vet tech opened the little door and she hissed with that low growl and made it clearly known she was not coming out. I began wondering if I would have to reschedule the appointment.

Just then the vet tech (red-headed Marshall) started unscrewing the top half of the carrier from its base. When he removed the lid, Molly looked kinda shocked. I laughed a bit thinking Molly perhaps thought she got the better of them. Well, not that day. The vet completed the exam in the carrier. He didn't even try to pull her out. I was impressed.

I was struck by this whole experience. While eating lunch with my friend the next day, I shared about Molly's encounter with the Vet; his flexibility and the gentleness of his care. I thought about the times I am in such a tizzy and I just want to stay safe and captive in my cage. I realized how grateful I am that God is absolutely brilliant and will find an alternative way to meet and connect with me and will still listen to my wounded heart.

Autumn Leaves

2008-11-11T12:39:00.004-06:00

The Autumn leaves in our neighborhood

are beautiful again this year.

This morning the Autumn smell
was amazing. I felt like I
need to start storing up for the winter.

(I have no idea what that means.
Maybe time to put on the flannel sheets?)

* * *

Autumn.
Beautiful, mysterious, always changing.

Kitties Love the Fall Sun

2008-10-31T13:24:00.005-05:00

And so do I.

(Earlier in the day I moved the outer panel
out of the way for Calvin, but of course Molly
worked her way into the best spot.)

Pepper Harvest

2008-09-06T18:34:00.003-05:00

Earlier this week I picked a bunch of peppers from our garden. I was so excited to see the red cayennes and orange Tabasco peppers. B roasted the Anaheim peppers on the Big Green Egg and they are now tightly packed in freezer bags for use during the winter. Yippee!

(And yes, I moved the peppers around to get a good distribution of red, green, and orange in the photo. Good gracious! Who knew us amateur bloggers would someday stage photos of food products! Geesh!)

Aggravated Sciatic Nerve

2008-08-22T15:55:00.008-05:00

We learned this week that B developed sciatica. He's been having lots of pain in his low butt (or buttocks as my yoga teacher says), back thigh, and knee. He just wasn't getting any better so he went to the Urgent Care Center Wednesday and they prescribed a muscle relaxer and an anti-inflammatory. It's good to know the cause and hopefully the pain will subside each day.

I decided to pull out my Anatomy Coloring Book to better understand all the inner workings of the sciatic nerve and muscle groups in that area. I bought the book several years ago when I started yoga. My teacher often talks about the various muscle groups we activate in the poses and I wanted a better visual understanding.

I first saw the book when I was in college. While studying on campus, at least once a semester I would see people coloring their books. I always thought it looked fun, well, except for having to memorize all those names. Glad I don't have to do that!!

A Lesson from Molly

2008-08-10T16:34:00.013-05:00

Last week my husband and I took care of a 5 month old kitten for a friend. This was his second extended stay with our animals (2 cats and 2 dogs). Several weeks ago he spent ten days in our house when this same friend cared for our animals while we were gone.

Molly, my sweet, sweet cat, really struggled with the new kitty. She growled and hissed when he came near, but thank goodness she was never aggressive. She just seemed snarky over the interloper who seemed to steal our affection and attention. (The kitty, Trypod, worked his way into our hearts quite easily I might add. He was hit by a car when he was very small and now has a bum foreleg. Our friend rescued him and nursed him back to health. He is amazingly agile and adorable on those 3 1/2 legs.)

At times when I tried to pet Molly she lashed out with her claws and, of course, I backed away. But after several days though, I decided to just sit and talk to her, but not pet her. After awhile I could see a visible calm and eventually, she let me pet her. I discovered she really did want us to spend time with her, but just not too close.

Well, the day before Trypod left, Molly came to sit with me as I was writing in my journal. She lay right next to my thigh for a little bit and then snuggled very close. (I love this!!) I kept writing in my journal and would periodically pet her head.

After a bit I was thinking about how special Molly is to us and I bent over pressing my lips to her head as I often do and said these words:

Molly, don't you forget YOU are loved! We love you so very much.
Don't you ever forget that!!

I had tears in my eyes because the truth is we really do love her even though we had this little kitty with us.

As I said these words to my Molly I recognized a deep gnawing pain inside my guts. I can't help but wonder if I'm not a little bit like Molly. Sometimes I forget I am deeply loved. I forget this and then I lash out and pull back, but the truth is I really just want to be connected and accepted. When I remember I am deeply loved the fear subsides. I'm more open to give and receive. The pieces in my life seem to fit better.

Farmers Market and Good Eats

2008-06-07T09:17:00.004-05:00

B and I went to the Farmers Market early this morning. We've been talking about going for awhile, but kept forgetting. It was fun!! (though a little overwhelming at first). We ran into a few friends which was really cool, though we didn't get to see Okie Okasan and her bonnets as she's traveling.

We bought some lettuce, berries, green beans, and some lamb. B is making lamb vindaloo tonight for dinner. Yum! Yum! and I'm making a blueberry pie. This month's issue of Cooks Illustrated had an article on blueberry pie that piqued my interest. I've not made a pie in many months, so this seemed like perfect timing.

While visiting my sister and her family last summer, she and I went to her Farmers Market one day and it was so much fun. I'm sure being with her was the best part, but it was neat to be out in the community and to see all the wonderful displays of vegetable, fruits, flowers, breads, jellies, etc.

I'm not sure we'll make it every Saturday, but you never know.

Poison Ivy

2008-04-19T10:06:00.000-05:00

After doing yard-work in our "back 40" several weeks ago, I noticed bumps on my forearm that itched like a [rhyming expletive deleted]. The culprit...Poison Ivy!!!

After doing some Google research I was pretty sure I knew the source, but guess who confirmed it? Our 7 year old next door neighbor who is the same one who gave me a bouquet of front yard flowers last year.

Last night before dinner he came over for a short visit with his little sister (after getting permission from his parents which is in itself a blog worthy post.) We walked out to the pond and then he wandered out to the suspect area. I told him to be very careful because I thought we had some Poison Ivy. Before I even pointed it out he said, "Oh, there it is. It's there, there and there." I was impressed.

I asked where he learned how to spot the plant and he said, "My mom taught me ~ three leaves, let it be." So for the next 10 minutes he was on guard to spot the stuff. Turns out, though, his identification needs a little refining. Pretty soon he identified 3 other potential culprits but I'm pretty sure they are false positives. Or at least I'm hoping so. :)

P.S. One of our tasks this afternoon...use Mike McGrath's technique from You Bet Your Garden to remove the stuff. I'm not looking forward to this.

Unexpected Memories

2008-03-22T21:51:00.000-05:00

Something sweet, but totally unexpected happened on our trip to Taos. While gallery gazing and shopping with the ladies we decided to stop by the Henningsen gallery for a tour of the house and gardens.

The home was beautiful in a Frank Lloyd Wright way (from my novice understanding); the living space very open with exquisite use of light and space. The house was originally designed as a "live-in" gallery. (You can see pictures of the exterior and the living room on the web by scrolling to the right using the bar at the bottom.)

After walking around the living room, I walked into a spacious kitchen. It too was illuminated with lots of natural light. As I turned to my right to see the eating area I was stunned by what I saw before me. It could have been my grandparent's house. I was instantly transported back into their home.

My grandfather was an architect and strongly influenced by Frank Lloyd Wright. He, too, used light and space beautifully in his designs which was evident in the home he designed for his family. He included a large indoor planter in their dining room with full length floor to ceiling windows to make full use of the sun. It fit perfectly with their house, just like in the Henningsen house.

I choked up immediately and stood in awe at the beauty, but mostly I was sweetly stunned by the unexpected memories and feelings that came back to mind. It was one of those very precious moments.

Home!

2008-03-21T15:44:00.002-05:00

I love coming home after a trip away. We were in Taos for a few days of skiing, gallery browsing, and good Eats. We met up with several families who've made this spring break trip for a number of years. This is B's 4th and my 2nd. We had a delightful time.

Anyway, when we opened the front door we were excitedly greeted by four furry smiling faces. Abbie was jumping like crazy and so excited we were home. This is the first time we've left her since adopting her last summer.

The thing I like most about coming home is sleeping in my own bed!!

'tis truly good to be home

TIP: How to get through to Customer Service

2008-01-19T17:21:00.000-06:00

Yesterday I called our mortgage company with a non-standard question. I dialed the Customer Service number and you guessed it I went through 29 menus (slight exaggeration) none of which dealt with my issue. No shock there, but I thought eventually I'd get far enough down the menu that soon it would say "Press 0 to speak with a Customer Service Representative." But no, that would be much too convenient.

I was SO fed up and ready to smack the phone on the counter. Smack! Smack! Smack! Instead I pressed every bottom in a row and in a fit of exasperation I pushed as many buttons as possible all at the same time. Get the picture?? I put the phone up to my ear and guess what "brrrriiinnnggg".

"Hello, this is Kelly with Customer Service. Your loan number please?"

"Oh...Oh...just second. Oh, shoot! Where did it go!! I had it just a second ago," I say, fumbling through my stack of papers. "I'm so sorry. It was here just a second ago. I didn't expect to actually talk to a human."

CSR Kelly chuckles. She'd really chuckle if she knew how I got through. Ha!!

A Shared Cup of Coffee

2007-12-16T17:46:00.000-06:00

Whew! May I never take heat for granted. As each day passes, last week seems more and more like a bad dream, except that it's still a very bad dream for many people in Oklahoma. Last look OG&E System Watch still shows 83,000 people in the OKC metro still without power. Hats off (and a huge thank you) to Oklahoma utility crews and those from Texas, Arkansas, New Mexico, Louisiana, Mississippi and Indiana who restored power to 217,000 people since Tuesday afternoon.

We stayed at the house during the power outage which wasn't too bad those first 48 hours thanks to B's efforts over the last few years insulating the ceiling and walls and new windows. But by the 3rd night it was pretty brutal. The low temperature inside the house was 46 degrees. Closing off all the bedrooms helped preserve a little bit of heat. We moved our mattress into the front room and pulled out all blankets, afghans, and comforters. Although we tried to think of it as an adventure and cabin living, it became increasingly difficult. At least at the cabin we had a heat source.

Anyway, there were a few really sweet moments. One of my favorite was Monday morning. B and I woke of course to a very cold house. The shock of seeing treacherously bent and broken branches all over the neighborhood was a bit scary and unsettling. Sadly, four large branches from our maple tree were broken and many more hanging 3-4 feet lower than normal.

I called a work colleague who confirmed the office was closed due to the weather. B set out to make an alternative hot beverage. During the middle of the night when we lost power he realized we were SOL with our morning coffee. (We are avid morning coffee drinkers.) B manually lit the gas burner on the store, boiled up some water and made a couple of hot cups of tea.

About 30 minutes later, the phone rang (while we still had phone service) and it was our next door neighbor.

"Do you have coffee?"

"No. Unfortunately, we have the means but no grounds. Water and a gas stove, but can't grind the beans."

"Well come on over. We have plenty of grounds, so bring your means."

We boiled up another pot of hot water, primed the thermos, and filled it to the top with luscious hot water. Sharing a hot cup of coffee with our neighbors brought a strange comfort in the midst of the strange sights and sounds.

Caramel Oatmeal Bars

2007-11-30T17:17:00.000-06:00

Off to the store to get some caramel. I wanted to make something sweet for B (our refrigerator is on the fritz so we are kinda bummed and need something to lift our spirits). When I asked what he'd like he said, "Something like Caramel Oatmeal Bars". Low and behold I typed those exact words into Google and bunches of recipes came forth. I'll let you now how they turnout.

sg

Favorite Fabric

2007-10-21T13:00:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I worked on the new quilt. I finished cutting all the pieces with my rotary cutter (2nd favorite invention in the world) and I sewed together all the bias rectangles. Of course Molly had to "help" at one point. She is sitting to the right of my sewing machine. (She is "asked" to leave when I'm actually sewing or cutting. She is definitely a curious cat.)

Here are closeups of the bias rectangles. I bought a wonderful tool that makes cutting and piecing these types of triangles a cinch. This is one of my favorite piecing shapes. At some point I'd like to make a Tennessee Waltz quilt which includes bias rectangles also.

My favorite fabric in the quilt is the purple floral. I love how the flowers seem to dance on the background.

Purple is one of my favorite colors, so it's no wonder this kit caught my eye.

Birthday Wishes

2007-10-20T11:13:00.000-05:00

Thanks for the birthday wishes!! I celebrated my birthday "week" with a wonderful conversation with my mom on Tuesday and a special birthday song from my father-in-law that same day. (My in-laws were traveling on my birthday, and they were so sweet to wish me happy birthday the day before.)

My dad called early Wednesday since I didn't get a chance to talk to him Tuesday, but I missed his call. I love voice mail simply for the reason I get to listen to the special ones over and over again. My middle sister and family called later in the day while I was at work and left a sweet singing Birthday-gram.

When I got home from work, I opened my presents and then B and I went to dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant. They have a wonderful sampler plate and their marinara sauce is so YUMMY! At 10:30 p.m. the phone rang and it was my oldest sister. She and her family also sang happy birthday to me as well. It was really sweet.

The last few things I'm including in my birthday celebration were seeing 5 beautiful roses in my side yard on Friday. I planted this rose bush two years ago, mostly for my neighbors to have something pretty to look at since we don't see that side of the yard much. New blooms are a beautiful vibrant yellow. They change to pink after a few days and finally a light pink as the petals fall off. This bush bloomed all spring and summer and it still has about 4 more buds. (I took the photo with my camera phone. It's not a very clear picture, but hopefully you can see the pretty yellow petals. Yes, that's a bee in the bigger bloom.)

P.S. While running errands this afternoon, we might by go Bed Bath and Beyond so I can get a candle for my final celebration. I have a weak spot for Yankee Candles (thanks to my nieces!). It's a serious addiction. :) Our newest favorite is Vanilla Lime.

TV and Speakers Gone, Too

2007-10-12T15:15:00.000-05:00

I just posted my previous entry about Big Trash Day when I heard more voices outside. A mom and kids were looking at the stuff and one of the school-aged girls came walking up to the door. She asked if the TV still worked and I told her not very well. The screen takes about 2 minutes to warm up, but said she's more than welcome to take it.

I went to unload the dishwasher and then peeked out at the curb. I saw the little girl and likely her little sister sitting on the lawn. My guess was their mom would soon return with a car to take the TV. Just then the thought occurred to me to find the remote. I was pretty sure we hadn't thrown it away. I found it, checked the battery and had just enough time to find the instructions in the file cabinet (B will be pleased). I hurried out to the curb and handed them to the little girl just as the mom was loading up the TV. She looked at me and said with a smile "Thank you!"

I'm saying a prayer that the TV will keep working at least another 10 years.

Big Trash Day

2007-10-12T14:41:00.000-05:00

Twice a year our town has a "big trash" pickup for things like mattresses, couches, refrigerators ~ essentially anything you can't throw away during normal trash pickup. The great thing about Big Trash Day is it's like a city-wide garage sale, but no preparation and no price haggling. One year we put out a bunch of stuff and by morning the only thing left was an old stinky rug I hoped no one would take.

Just now I put a bunch of things out including an old bicycle I bought in college. It was in pretty good shape, but needed new tires and a grease job. I've been hanging onto it for way too long for sentimental reasons to be sure. We decided to put it out, but if no one took it then we'd bring in back inside and donate it. B didn't like the idea (and neither did I) of it being in the landfill.

I walked into the house to check my email and I heard the dogs bark and a car door slam. Guess what? No bike. It was on the curb less than 5 minutes. Ha!!

Now I just hope someone will take the old TV, speakers, chairs, and toaster oven.

"Flutterbye Kisses"

2007-10-05T20:51:00.003-05:00

I ran some errands this afternoon and decided to stop by the quilt store since it was right on the way. I looked through the new books and of course wandered through the fabric collection. (All the colors sure make me smile). About ready to check out, I found more fabric along another wall and then noticed several quilt kits hidden back behind a display. I've never bought a kit before, always putting together my own fabric and colors.

This little gem jumped right into my arms (well maybe not exactly like that). I just fell in love with the colors and the design. Something about it just spoke to me.

After looking at the price I put it back, but I swear it jumped back in my arms again (grins). I wandered around the store another 10 minutes wrestling with my frugal side, but I finally decided to buy it. It was then I noticed the title "Flutterbye Kisses". I think it fits perfectly.

(If you click the photo, you can see the sunflower border. It's from fabric shown at the top of the photo which has a line of sunflowers along the length of the fabric. Perfect for a border. It's hard to see in the photo, but some of the small print fabrics also have little tiny sunflowers .)

Tidbits about Me

2007-09-29T13:30:00.000-05:00

My sweet friend over at Okie Okasan tagged me (Yikes!). I felt a bit intimidated at first, but after giving it some thought I decided to play. So here are the rules:

Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves.
The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed.
At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves a comment letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog.

My Tidbits

Certified scuba diver when I was in the 7th grade. The scariest yet most exciting dive was the 30 ft emergency ascent which was required for certification. We removed our respirators and then ascended while blowing little bubbles through our lips.
Dreamed about being an Olympic skier when I was younger. Although I can ski the bumps, I wasn't near good enough nor competitive enough. T'was fun to dream though.
My biggest regret as a young teen was quitting piano lessons while in junior high. Soccer practice conflicted with lessons and of course piano practice was like pulling teeth.
I married my best friend. B and I met for coffee every week for three years before we ever started dating. The funny thing is, his brother knew we took a liking to each other even before we knew. I met his brother and sister-in-law during a lunch get-together on our way to a Red Rocks concert. Apparently, B's brother saw something different in his little brother when he was around me. A year later we started dating. Ha!
Over the years I've dabbled in several different types of art. I took drawing and painting lessons, but quilting is the most satisfying to me. I love the colors, textures, planning, measuring, rotary cutting, fitting, sewing, even the ripping doesn't bother me. Some day I'd like to start drawing again. My favorite medium is pencil.
I only missed one day of school during K-12. Don't ask me how this was even possible. Either I went to school when I really should have stayed home or my parents passed along resilient genes. Probably a little bit of both.
My first all nighter was my senior year in high school. I had a take home calculus exam and research paper due Monday morning. (Yes, I'm a bit of a procrastinator). I'm pretty sure I completed most of my research and I'd like to think I'd written at least an outline, but I can't remember. Luckily, I did well on both. Whew! Unfortunately, Monday evening was the National Honor Society induction ceremony. I was president of our chapter and aside from the fact that I'm incredibly nervous speaking in pubic, I was so exhausted that I sped through my portion of the ceremony. We were finished in 15 minutes. It was horrible. I asked my mom how things went after the ceremony, and she said, "well that was the fastest induction I've ever seen". Later that night (did I think I was superwoman or what) I fell asleep while talking on the phone. Jeesh!
I am named after my grandmothers. I share my paternal grandmother's first name and my maternal grandmother's middle name. For many, many years I felt tremendously ashamed for not being male in order to carry on the family name. I am the youngest of three girls and my father and grandfather were the only males of their respective generations. It seems crazy now that I took on this expectation. In a sweet glimpse of goodness about 10 years ago it dawned on me that indeed I am carrying on the family name. It's just on the maternal side.

That wasn't so scary and really kinda fun. Now for the last rule. Although I read a number of blogs, I'm an infrequent commenter (just like my blogging), so I'm only tagging these three "lucky" bloggers.

Streak at Streak's Blog
Anglican at A New Anglican's Journey
Nina at TheArtofIt

Guilty Food Pleasures

2007-09-28T13:58:00.000-05:00

Earlier this afternoon I picked up "will call" tickets for a concert we are attending tonight. Right across the street is a Sonic drive-in which sells my favorite guilty food pleasure.

If you haven't tried Ched 'R' Peppers you don't know what you're missing. I'd never heard of these little things until we visited some friends in Houston a number of years back. We ordered take out at a local restaurant and they said we MUST try these little devils. They were wonderful. Jalapenos stuffed with cheddar cheese and deep fat fried. To die for!!!

Although Sonic's are not quite as good as those originals (not HOT enough), nonetheless, do they ever hit the spot!! Yum, Yum, Yum.

P.S. Yes I did stop and I did order. :)

Bald Tires...Already?

2007-09-11T21:06:00.000-05:00

I took my car in for service this morning because the brakes were squealing a bit. I noticed it mostly when I pulled out of the driveway in the morning. They also seemed a little "hard" when I pressed the peddle. Turns out the mechanic knew exactly what that symptom meant. All four brake pads were shot, the rotors on the front needed to be resurfaced, and the back rotors replaced altogether as they were worn past the recommended limit. The service guy also discovered that I was missing one of the lug bolts on a back tire. Scary!!

But the biggest surprise...my tires were bald. Seems like I just got new tires. I was a bit skeptical, but after searching through my service records I discovered the tires had 70,000 miles on them and they had a 50,000 warranty. Well, I guess commuting (23 miles) and a couple of trips across the country adds up. Turns out I bought them almost 4.5 years ago. He mentioned that they had even wear. I was please to hear this. This was not the case with my last set of tires. I only rotated them once toward the end of their life which is not a good practice. I'm pretty good about keeping up with the maintenance schedule, but for some reason rotating the tires slips my mind.

Not looking forward to getting this credit card bill. Oh well. But, I'm glad for the new tires. I was amazed at the difference when I drove the car. It turns better, sounds quieter, and it's just a whole lot smoother.

What is "Stree?"

2007-09-07T10:17:00.000-05:00

We went to PetsMart the other day and a funny thing happened on the way home. We bought 4 rosey red minnows as they are supposed to eat mosquito larva. Last week one of our biology friends came by to see the pond and fountain. Very nicely, but strongly, he suggested we get some fish...and fast. (We are using mosquito dunks, but it seems like they disintegrate very quickly perhaps because we recirculate the water. We want to stock the pond with native fish and hopefully we'll get our supply soon.)

So, on the way home I was reading the pet care instructions on the fish bag. The conversation went something like this.

(Reading from bag.) "'Responsible pet ownership begins on the trip home....If you have more shopping or errands to complete, consider picking up your pet last. This will ensure your pet encounters the least amount of stree possible.' Looking up from the bag I asked my husband, "What is stree?"

"What?"

"What is stree? That's what the bag says, 'This will ensure your pet encounters the least amount of stree possible.'"

"'Stree' is not a word."

"But it says it right here."

"Probably should be 'stress'. It's a typo."

The pet instruction bag maker really should use a spellchecker.

We got the little guys home (no extra errands) and I let the bag float in the pond for about 15 minutes to acclimate the fish to the pond water temperature as directed on the bag. I opened the bag and gently let them loose. It was kinda fun to watch them scurry away.

The next day we located two of the little guys and we hope the other two survived. They are only about 1 in long, so they are hard to see. Unfortunately, we don't have a screen on the skimmer so they could get sucked into the pump. We are working on that. But as B and I said...these are not pets! These guys are work for a living. They better eat the larva and they better grow fast!!

Update:

Well, today we can't find any of the fish. Bummer! We now wonder if they experienced too much "stree" from being sucked into the pond pump, torpedoed out the fountain hole after swirling through 20 feet of pipe. Drag...Off to the pet store for more fish.

MyTunes, MP3s, and fertilizer

2007-09-07T08:37:00.000-05:00

(They really are related. I promise!)

Found something cool on Wired while reading my "news blogs". Someone figured out how to compress MP3 files even smaller. The product is called ShrinkMyTunes and compresses the file through a patented algorithm. Although I can hold quite a bit of music on my nano, I need to pick and choose from my iTunes collection (actually most is from my music lover husband's collection).

I was telling my husband and read part of the article to him. I came to the sentence, "To the trained ear, the converted MP3s sound like they have a medium amount of variable-bitrate (VBR) compression applied."

Well, I learned to read using phonics, so when I got to the word "bitrate" I pronounced it bi-trate with a long /i/. My funny husband (while looking over my shoulder) said, "bit-rate. It's not a fertilizer."

Ha! See the subjects really do tie together. :)

Hard Drive Screech

2007-09-03T14:34:00.000-05:00

A week ago last Saturday my hard drive took a dive. For the last few weeks I noticed an occasional ever so slight screeching sound (which is never good). By Sunday it took 10 minutes to load a web page and the hard drive sounded like it was gasping for air and ready to grind to a halt.

I called Apple and the Customer Service Representative led me through some diagnostics, but it was clear the hard drive was failing. Luckily I was able to backup all my data (except I forgot to save my browser favorites). She suggested I send it in for maintenance. Apple sent a special box that I received Tuesday morning. I packaged it up Tuesday afternoon and dropped it off for DHL pickup.

Lo and behold guess what was waiting for me Thursday evening when I got home from work? Is that service or what! As an extra bonus I noticed I had a new keyboard, too. I'd worn off some of the letters and a few keys were sticking. Because we purchased Apple Care (extended warranty) I was not charged for the new hard drive or keyboard. (I'm usually skeptical of extended warranties. My belief is if you buy quality, then you don't need these things. However my sweet husband has convinced me they make sense when there are a lot of moving or electronic parts, but I hate spending money on these things.)

Anyway, I'm happy as a clam to have my laptop back and all my data restored. Yippee!

I love my Mac.

Our Sweet Alafair

2007-08-26T20:03:00.001-05:00

Several weeks ago one of our beloved dogs died. She was with us for almost ten years and we miss her very much. Her name was Alafair, named after a character in one of my husband's favorite fiction series.

We adopted her in 1999 from Pets and People, a pet adoption organization up in the city. Several months before this wonderfully fateful trip, we talked back and forth about getting a buddy for our other dog, Streak. We both knew when we went, we would come home with a dog. One would grab our heart and we would bring it home.

My husband saw her in a crate with another dog. She was not feeling well, but her magic still worked on him. I was hesitant. The volunteers took her from the crate and I sat with her on the floor while B went to find out more information about her history. He was gone for at least 15 minutes. In that short time, Alafair stole my heart. She curled up in a tiny little ball very close to me as I sat on the floor. When B returned he bent down and told me about her history. She was about 18 months old, rescued from the animal shelter and was sick. He said we didn't have to take her, but with tears streaming down my cheeks, I said "I can't bare not to take her". That began our love affair with this little one.

When we got home she slept almost 24 hours straight. She ate only a little bit. Within a few days and a trip to the vet she was much better. Over the next few years her personality and confidence grew. When we first took her on walks, the sound of cars frightened her and she skittled cross the side walk. Over time walks became her most favorite thing (although she adored her buddy, Streak). In our house we couldn't use the word "walk" because she knew what that meant. We called them a "W" until we both were ready to actually go. Even putting on a pair of shoes would elicit high pitched yip, "Can we go? Can we go? Oh please, oh please".

We miss her very much and she will always have a special place in our hearts. She was gentle, devoted, and alive with life.

Valpak ~ total waste (or are they?)

2007-08-24T18:27:00.000-05:00

Rob Riggle did a funny bit on the Daily Show the other night where he "supervised the worst mail call ever" in the words of the Daily Show. In the piece (actually broadcasting from Baghdad on a USO tour) Rob delivers Valpaks to Marines in the barracks. It was hilarious in a totally Daily Show way.

Tonight we got a Valpak in the mail and I promptly threw it in the recycle bin commenting what a total waste of paper. On a goofy whim while talking to my husband I decided to open it so we could continue to poke fun.

Lo and behold (and I hate to admit this) I actually found three coupons we can use: Marble Slab Creamery (yumm!!), Van's Pig Stand (even bigger yumm!!!), and Checks in the Mail (we really could use some address labels). Ha!!!!!

Front Yard Bouquets

2007-04-15T15:33:00.000-05:00

This afternoon I got back from the pet food store and my neighbors were outside with their children and dogs. I noticed the 6 year old picking flowers (well, weeds) throughout the yard. My husband and I chatted a bit and then went back into our house. Within a few minutes our doorbell rang.

With a huge grin and a bouquet to match, little "A" handed me the flowers. I asked if I could give him a big thank you hug and of course he obliged.

Well, about 15 minutes later the doorbell rang again and guess what I got? A second bouquet!!

Little "A" made my day...truly a small glimpse of purity and goodness.

Quilting Binge

2007-03-11T10:16:00.001-05:00

I started quilting again and I'm having a blast. I made my last quilt almost 10 years ago. Hard to believe! I'd forgotten just how much fun it is to work with colors, fabric, thread, the rotary cutter, my new sewing machine. I'm once again a regular customer at the fabric store and even signed up for the "Preferred Customer" program. Ha!! I finished two baby sized quilt tops from simple patterns (Sweet Baby and Mine Shaft) using some left over material. (I did buy some yellow fabric because the yellows in my stash were not quite right. Plus it was a good excuse to go to the fabric store).

My next step is to decide how to quilt the tops. Computers and digital cameras have changed that process. I took several photos of the tops and printed them so I can draw out the quilting pattern on the printout. In the past I sometimes drafted a miniature version on graph paper with color pencils. That was fun, too, but very time consuming.

(Of course I had to include one with Molly! She's new to the whole quilting and sewing thing. She's always been a very curious cat, but most of all I think she just wants to be with me. My squirt bottle is coming in handy at times.)

Blog Upgraded

2006-12-30T14:46:00.000-06:00

I finally converted my blog to the new version of Blogger and took the opportunity to update the template.

For those who viewed the blog during Christmas, sorry about all the dots. I selected the dot template as a test and then didn't have time to convert it back. It was a little bit disconcerting though the dots did make me smile (for about 5 seconds). Cheers and Happy Holidays.

P.S. B and I went to a party last night with a group of new friends. During the course of the evening I talked with a gentleman that I've conversed with several times in the past. During the conversation I asked how his Christmas was. Later in the evening I learned he is Jewish. I feel kinda bad mostly because I realized I'd be taken somewhat aback if someone wished me Happy Hanukkah or Happy Kwanzaa assuming that I celebrated these as well.

Just makes me ponder on this a bit. Is religious sensitivity such a bad thing??

10 Modern Gadgets That Changed the World

2006-12-12T19:28:00.000-06:00

From Wired Magazine Blogs. Hard to fathom life without these gadgets. I wonder what's next?

Click here to read specific information about each gadget.

A Beautiful Sight

2006-12-10T18:08:00.000-06:00

Discovery left earth Saturday evening for a 12 day mission. The pictures are spectacular.

Picture courtesy NASA from Tom's Astronomy Blog.

Adventure - an advent

2006-08-22T12:15:00.000-05:00

I'm reading William Least Heat-Moon's book "Blue Highways: A journey into America". (It dawned on me the other night that it's a 1980s travel blog.) He said something that struck a cord when I read the words last night. In this entry he talked about traveling from New Tazewell to Morristown TN where he hit road construction through the Clinch Mountains. It must have been quite a harrowing trip.

The crossing became a grim misadventure, and I wasn't prepared for it. I tried to think of other things. Helen Keller, who never drove the Clinch Mountains, said life is a daring adventure or it is nothing. Adventure - an advent. But no coming without a going. Death and rebirth. Antithetical notions lying next to each other, as on a globe the three-hundred-sixtieth degree does to the first. Past and future. (p. 37)

I'm wondering if sometimes roads we travel are under construction and quite treacherous, but nonetheless it's the way out. Death and rebirth. Adventure - an advent. It speaks hope to me.

So I'm a 21st century dork

2006-08-22T10:28:00.000-05:00

This morning I took the dogs for a walk while B was running errands. About 100 feet from the house, I noticed the car in the driveway. I whipped out my cell phone and called home. When B answered (he knew it was me since we each have a special ring tone on our phone for each other) and I said, "I'm a dork. Guess where I am?" We both laughed and I walked 30 paces home.

My Beloved Cooking Dog!!

2006-07-14T22:51:00.001-05:00

Scholastic Book Club Order

2006-07-11T11:22:00.000-05:00

Do you remember back in elementary school when our Scholastic Book Club orders would arrive? ...order form neatly wrapped around the books with a thick rubber band...the wonderful smell...the sound of crackling pages...the beautiful book covers.

Yesterday my husband received a book order with some research money. He ordered five books: one hardbound and 4 paperbacks. As he handed me the books I instantly transported back to 3rd grade. I looked at each book, flipped through, and of course smelled the pages. I asked my husband if he remembered Scholastic Books. He said "YES!" With a laugh I said, "this is a scholastic book order on steroids." We both laughed and reminisced. It was a cool moment.

So here's to Scholastic Book Club!! Three cheers!! (Here is a pic of my MOST favorite Scholastic books by Ruth Chew.)

Bruce Springsteen - Part 2

2006-07-02T22:48:00.000-05:00

My next encounter with Bruce was my re-education by my music-fanatic-soon-to-be-husband about the real Bruce Springsteen. As I mentioned in my previous post, I confused Rick Springfield with Bruce Springsteen. In the early 80s I was a big fan of Rick Springfield. What teenage girl wouldn't have been?? Good-looking soap-opera-doctor turned singer. A couple of girl friends and I went to Red Rocks to see him in concert. Yipee!!

Bruce Springsteen's Tunnel of Love album was released the year we were engaged. We listened to the album over and over again, so it was very much a part of the early years of our marriage. We especially liked the title track, Tunnel of Love. It aptly expressed the exciting and yet scary parts of marriage.

...Cuddle up angel cuddle up my little dove
We'll ride down baby into this tunnel of love...

...Then the lights go out and it's just the three of us
You me and all that stuff we're so scared of
Gotta ride down baby into this tunnel of love

...it ought to be easy ought to be simple enough
Man meets woman and they fall in love
But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough
And you've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above if you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love

As luck would have it, Bruce came through our city on his Tunnel of Love Tour and a friend got us front row tickets in the side section to the concert!! (Her sister worked for Select-a-Seat at the time.) Unfortunately, my soon-to-be husband was recovering from mono. I hinted that maybe we shouldn't go to the concert and he looked at me like I'd gone mad. I soon discovered why.

The concert was absolutely amazing. Bruce played for at least 4 hours. Every minute was fabulous. He sang. He played. He rocked. He danced. He jumped. The eStreet Band...Clarence and Patti. Wow!

At one point he hopped onto a speakers on our side of the stage. He looked down at our section while singing his heart out. My husband (to be) looked at me and I looked at him. At the same time we said, "He LOOKED at ME!". It was an amazing moment. We had a great time at the concert and we were completely spent by the end. Supposedly Bruce came out for yet another encore. Who knows. I'm not sure we could have lasted. I was completely exhausted and I didn't even have mono.

Bruce Springsteen - Part 1

2006-06-30T14:06:00.000-05:00

This morning I read a new blog called penni for your thoughts. In one of her recent entries she mentioned seeing Bruce Springsteen in concert as a non-fan and coming away as a fan (see her post comments).

I got to thinking about my own encounters with Bruce and his music. My husband and his music loving friends are mortified when I share my early confusion over Bruce Springsteen and Rick Springfield (but that's another story).

I first heard of Bruce back in the 80s while reading a memoir of sorts in a local newspaper at a downtown sandwich shop. The writer told of an experience listening to a Springsteen song while driving his car through town and the open country-side. (I don't remember the song, but I'm guessing it was Thunder Road.)

He described the song, the lyrics, the sound of Bruce's voice and the music. All this while describing his drive through town and the countryside. Perfectly timed music with starts, stops, turns, acceleration, letting loose. I'd never heard of people connecting to music this way.

It was magical and I got caught up in his experience. This was 25 years ago...mind you...I'd never heard the song nor knew of this Bruce, but after reading this piece...Wow. Little did I know what was awaiting me...

A Hubble Photo

2006-05-27T16:09:00.000-05:00

Discovered a new blog the other day about astronomy. Until about 15 years ago I hadn't paid much attention to the skies. Occasionally, I'd marvel at the star lit night during visits to our cabin in the Wyoming mountains. We only have a tiny bit of artificial light there, so the nights provide a great opportunity to see the heavenly displays.

The Hubble photo posted on Tom's Astronomy blog is worth a quick look. I am just amazed at what I see. Swirling galaxies of all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Very, very, cool. Here is the link to the zoomable version. (I'm so glad they fitted Hubble with glasses a number of years back!)

The Wrath of God

2006-02-12T11:30:00.000-06:00

Last year at this time I talked about posting church memories which influenced me for good and called me to live out Jesus' commands. I posted one memory, but have struggled since (for multiple reasons) to write additional postings. I made a list of several memories and wrote a little on each, but instead of feeling encouraged and hopeful I got down and frustrated. I'm not entirely sure where the frustration comes from.

One outcome of the frustration was the realization that my understanding of Jesus' sermons is limited. I've read them multiple times and listened to related homilies and sermons, but for whatever reason I now see that my understanding of His words are kinda foggy and clouded. It bothers me that I'm not able to articulate the essence nor principle foundations of my Lord's manifesto.

Since then I've been reading Frederick Dale Bruner's commentary on the Book of Matthew [thanks to RLP (see very end of his post) ]. My progress is slow, but that's okay. Seems that each time I read his words, they jump off the page with warmth, hope and strength.

Today I reread his description of the "wrath of God" from his section on John the Baptist and the Sermon on the Mount. I've been mulling over his description in my head lately.

The wrath of God is not the irritability of God: it is the love of God in friction with injustice. It is the warm, steady, patient, but absolutely fair grace of God in collision with manifest selfishness...God's wrath does not contradict God's love; it proves it. A love that pampers injustice is not lovable (p. 92).

We do not honor love by omitting references to judgment. We do, however, do a disservice when we merely rant or pound the pulpit or use florid language. Some hell preaching can actually be the preacher's "dissing" or verbal violence, ecclesiastically camouflaged. But the abuse of a thing does not make wrong its use. Jesus teaches everywhere that serious ethical instruction should be undergirded by serious warnings. The holiness of God is at war with all bitterness, hatred, and hurting. And where divine holiness collides with our hostility the crash is called the wrath of God. God's wrath is God's war of love against everything gratuitously hurtful. God's love would not be love if it did not work to remove all that ungraciously hurts. The wrath of God does not disapprove; it proves the love of God (p. 213) (bolding mine).

When I think of my conception of God's wrath darkness surrounds me. By this I mean unpredictability, out of control, scary, death, epic anger. Everything about these words makes me feel afraid. Bruner's words are strong, but something about them draws me out. I want "to know" this holy wrath that collides with my own "manifest selfishness", my inner "bitterness, hatred, and hostility". For I do desire to build instead of destroy, to reunite instead of divide. I want "to know" this holy wrath that is "against everything gratuitously hurtful" and will work to remove "all that ungraciously hurts".

Something just dawned on me as I am finishing up this post. I'm realizing that Bruner's description of "God wrath" more closely matches my picture of Jesus than my conception. It makes me wonder where I came up with mine...

Sisters and Banana Bread

2006-01-22T13:10:00.000-06:00

The other day I was talking with my sister on the phone. We talk often, but only see each other about once a year if that. She lives across the country in a different time zone.

I multi-task pretty well, but this is not the case when I’m on the phone or cooking. As my husband can attest, I’ve thrown away a number of wrecked things because we were talking while I was baking. I end up using the measurement for the ingredient listed below. Use baking soda instead of baking power. Or leave out an ingredient altogether.

My sister and I were having a pretty in-depth conversation and she knew I was baking. I was baking banana bread and wanted to double the recipe. I doubled the sugar and oil with ease and mixed it together. Beat my eggs and mashed up my bananas (7 total). No problem.

When I got to the dry ingredients the doubling math took its toll (and I’m pretty good at math). We stopped our conversation literally until I got all the dry ingredients measured and mixed in. I apologized for not being more focused on our conversation. She laughed and said the neatest thing.

“If I were in your kitchen we would do the same thing. We would stop the conversation momentarily and then we’d start right up again.” She’s right.

We sometimes lament the fact that we don’t live closer and can’t cook together, meet for lunch, or have family meals together. Yet this day we cooked bread together and this miracle called the telephone made it seem like she’s just across town. ☺

P.S. Here’s my banana bread recipe.

Banana Bread

½ c cooking oil
1 c sugar
3 eggs, beaten
3 ripe bananas, mashed
2 c flour
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
3 Tbsp milk
½ tsp vanilla
½ c nuts (optional)

Preheat oven to 350°. Beat oil and sugar together. Add eggs and bananas. Beat well. Add dry ingredients, milk and vanilla. Mix well. Stir in nuts. Pour in greased pan (9x5x3). Bake 1 hour. (Insert toothpick to check for doneness. Should come out clean.)

What Kind of Clouds?

2005-12-23T18:33:00.000-06:00

Earlier this week a dear friend of mine and I ate lunch together which is our weekly practice. This week she seemed especially down for some reason.

During our conversation a painful memory came to mind when she was a tiny little girl, perhaps 3 or 4. While staring at the clouds in wonder she asked her grandmother, "If you were God, Grandma, what kind of clouds would you make?"

Her grandmother's response was, "Honey! Don't ever make yourself equal with God!" Her grandmother's words still bruised when they came to mind and I could see the hurt and shame she still carried.

It just broke my heart, but then from a gentle sweet place a question came to my mind. I looked into my friend's eyes and bent forward just slightly. I asked with a big smile on my face, "If you were God, what kind of clouds would you make?" The look in her eyes was of a delighted beloved child. With a tiny shy expression, she looked at me and smiled through teary eyes. She knew that day that God delighted in her question.

I think He is still pausing to hear all her ideas.

Cats in Backpacks

2005-10-30T10:00:00.000-06:00

You know how cats love boxes and bags. Well here's a new one. They love backpacks, too. Miss Molly's at it again. What a goof!

A Language with No Words

2005-10-29T20:55:00.000-05:00

I love fall. It means the nights are cool enough where we can sit on our porch and enjoy our chiminea. The pinion pine smell....hmmm....Wonderful. The other day my neighbor said, "I can tell this weather agrees with you". This was about the 10th time he's seen us enjoy a fire.

Again tonight we spent the early evening on our porch in front of the chiminea. After my husband went inside I stayed outside and put another small log on the fire. The sun had gone down by this time, so only the light from the house, street lights, and occasional car light lit the evening. A song by Nickel Creek came on the iPod that stirred my soul, speaking to a deep place in a language with no words.

Detective Agencies

2005-10-21T11:12:00.000-05:00

While walking my dogs today I stumbled across a piece of cardboard in the grass.
Something caught my eye so I took a closer look. It was an advertisement for a detective agency. (2 years experience. Call now! $.25 per case. Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back. )

It really tickled me. As I finished my walk I thought about the "make believe" games I played as a kid. The memory that stands out most is riding bikes with my sisters. We pretended we were on fast stallions racing against the wind speeding down hills. We attached a piece of string to the handle bars for reins. Go Thunder! Go! Ride like the Wind!

(I also recall that we buttoned up our sweaters and then pulled them over our heads so they looked like long flowing hair!!)

A flood of other stories came back to mind. One of my sisters setup an adoption agency. She registered the names of make-believe kids on index cards. Each card had a name and their story, and notes indicating successful adoptions.

Several years ago my nieces came to visit. They too setup a detective agency. It was pretty impressive. They sat in the truck bed parked in the driveway watching cars as they drove by recording details and license plates. In their pads of paper they dutifully recorded their observations. They had a blast and played for hours and hours.

Imagination...a wonderfully delightful thing.

Dog Goggles

2005-08-27T12:13:00.000-05:00

Visual Voice posted this on her website the other day and it just made my day. Makes me smile when I think about my dogs wearing goggles though I don't think they'd stay on for very long. Very funny and kinda sweet.

This is an exhibit in the American History Museum memorializing the first cross-country road trip in 1903. Mr. H. Nelson Jackson brought his dog along on the trek, outfitting him with goggles to protect his delicate eyes from dust and flying bug debris.

Grandma's Wedding Wish

2005-08-20T06:51:00.000-05:00

My grandmother wrote these words to me when I got married a number of years ago. In the card she wrote,

"Keep in mind this little wedding wish which was with one of our wedding gifts and has really helped when there have been a few rough times in our 55 years together. I love you, Grandma Marie"

I love you, too, Grandma!

Together in Death

2005-08-17T20:17:00.000-05:00

My grandmother and grandfather passed away earlier this year. Grandad died in late December and Grandma died about one month later. My grandfather was in generally good health for a 98 year old up until his last 4-6 months.

Their deaths are sweetly poetic to me. Although Grandma's health deteriorated several years earlier, I believe she clung to life so her beloved could precede her in death. They lived in their house many years beyond what was safe (in my opinion), saying that as long as they had each other they would be okay. It was next to impossible to convince them otherwise, but I guess they knew when the time was right. In their mid 90s they finally agreed they needed more assistance, so they moved from their home of 70 years.

Mom decided to have the interment service this summer when Wyoming weather isn't so bitterly cold. I'm glad she made this decision. It was a sweet moment to celebrate their lives on a warm sparking sunlit day. We remembered their lives together. I'm glad that their earthly remains were committed to the earth together. I loved them both very much.

Broken Watch Crystal

2005-07-17T08:34:00.000-05:00

Several months ago a dropped my watch on a ceramic tile floor. The crystal cracked through the middle. Just like that and just that fast. The imagery left an impact. Several days later I wrote some thoughts in my journal. Today I reread them and they seem especially poignant given my week.

I had a difficult confrontation with a team member. This person seems to know exactly how to push my buttons. I recognized the moment I should have disengaged, but of course “I was right” and “they were wrong”. I couldn’t possibly back down and cede ground, and neither could they.

Except that when I left the conversation I felt terrible; humiliation mixed with wounded pride ~ a Molotov cocktail ~ poisonous, toxic, explosive. The more I thought about the conversation the more bitter I got. I hate admitting this, but I caught myself thinking about ways to get even ~ “even” meaning ways to exact revenge. Luckily, my conscience spoke loud enough that I backed off. My plans were a bad idea, going nowhere but sewing bad seed.

Anyway, this morning I spent some time thinking, meditating, and confessing. “What exactly is driving this vengeful attitude resembling everything except what my faith teaches?” I happened to stumble on Matthew 7:1-5, the famous “first remove the plank from your own eye, so you can have clear vision to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

After wrestling with the message for awhile, I’m coming to accept that perhaps this plank is a “critical spirit”. I hate these words. I’ve struggled my entire life with the tape, “If you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.” (Though I've come to recognize that this tape is denial and serves only to maintain a false peace.)

I think a critical spirit is something entirely different. Over the last year I’ve seen a harsh judgmental attitude develop within me; a prickliness of sorts. It comes out toward those I don’t trust, those I disagree with, and those who have hurt me in the past. It’s those people I find most difficult to love.

When I dropped my watch I felt sorrow not because of the broken watch, but something in the imagery made me sad. As soon as the watch fell from my hand I knew the crystal would break. Sadness came when I thought about the hard and unforgiving tile. I don’t want to be hard like that.

I don't want to be clean and well-kept on the outside, but hard as a rock on the inside. But it seems these days when someone accidentally (or purposefully) “crashes” into my life they find a hard reception. I don’t receive them gently. I don’t think I’m suggesting an attitude of oblivious denial, but maybe a little bit of give. I don't know. I wonder if this is part of extending mercy to people. Frederick Dale Bruner wrote the following that I really liked.

In every sense Jesus’ will is clear: “I want mercy and not sacrifice”
(Matt 9:13; 12:7), “I want the heart that overlooks foibles,
not the eagle-eyed vision that sees everything wrong."
- Frederick Dale Bruner

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.
- Jesus of Nazareth

Sleeping Cats

2005-07-15T10:34:00.000-05:00

There is something very calming for me to watch sleeping cats. As I write this entry one of my cats, Molly, is laying just above the keyboard asleep on my desk. She does this quite often when I'm working on the computer. Occasionally, she will s-t-r-e-t-c-h out and then immediately fall back asleep. I'm not really sure why I like to watch my pets sleep. Something about it brings something good to my heart.

Here is a pic of Molly fully stretched on our futon.

My Favorite Appliance

2005-06-30T21:18:00.000-05:00

I had a weird thought the other day. The question came to mind, "What is my favorite appliance?". I knew the answer immediately. My favorite is our dishwasher. You see, my sweet husband installed it 5-6 years ago. Luckily our kitchen had some extra cupboard space for we had to give up 3 large drawers. Every lost drawer was WORTH IT. It isn't an exaggeration to say every time I punch the on button, I feel grateful. Grateful to my husband and grateful to the person who invented the first dishwasher.

What an amazing appliance. Put the dirty ones in...put in the soap...close the door....punch the button...60 minutes later the dishes are sparkling clean. Simply amazing.

Thanks, doll!!

Pine Trees ~ 18 months later

2005-06-26T22:51:00.000-05:00

About 18 month ago I posted a blog entry called Pine Trees. This is a follow-up entry that's been rolling around in my head for awhile. In the original post I talked about my sorrow at cutting out our diseased trees. I knew it had to be done, but I really didn't want to because somehow even in their diseased state they were still a comfort to me.

This metaphor spoke powerful words to my soul at the time, for I had come to a place where I was ready (and able) to deal with several painful memories (25 year old ones!!) that when remembered brought back the same emotional reaction and sorrow as when the memory was first made.

As I reflect back on those memories, today their sting is all but gone. I can remember without the painful emotions and it feels good. Some of these memories were about misunderstood grief. Some were about great loss, disappointment, and failure.

I've come to realize that forgiveness is such a big part of dealing with painful memories and beginning to "have life more abundantly" and "to have it to the full" (John 10:10b). I struggled with the concept of forgiveness for many years (and still do at times) because it never made sense to me. If I forgave the person, then somehow it felt like I was saying everything was "okay" and that the offense was no longer wrong.

Some years back I heard a teaching that began my trek toward genuine forgiveness. The gentleman spoke on the difference between forgiveness and reconciliation. This was a revolutionary concept for me. For in my mind they were one and the same thing ~ intermingled and intertwined. The cloudy murky concept slowing (!!) began to change.

Forgiveness is a singular activity. It is something I do within me, and I don't need the other person to participate in the process for me to forgive. Reconciliation is a bilateral process, requiring the participation of both parties. For there to be genuine reconciliation, I need to forgive and the other person needs to show godly sorrow over what he or she has done...reconciliation is optional and depends on the attitude of the offender. (p. 46 - Real Solutions for Forgiving the Unforgivable - David Stoop)

I began to grasp the idea that releasing others from their debt (forgiving their debt) actually released me from my own death grip (which incidentally I didn't realize I was bound until I was free). I was able to genuinely say, "God I forgive xx for the debt they owe me. They no longer owe me anything. I release them from whatever debt I hoped they would pay."

"To 'for-give' is, in the English language, an extended, expanded, strengthened form of the verb to give. By intensifying the verb we speak of giving at its deepest level, of self-giving, of giving forth and giving up deeply held parts of the self." We give up the right to revenge, to perfection, to justice, and instead we give forth to ourselves - or to the other person - freedom from the past and an openness toward the future. Forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves and others. (p. 19 - David Stoop)

Yes, it was a gift I gave myself. In letting go and "cutting out the diseased trees" this area is now open and free. I'm now ready to receive the planting of something new and something healthy.

* * *

By the way, this spring my husband and I planted an Oklahoma redbud in place of one of our pine trees. Our new redbud looks healthy and strong and even survived those fierce winds we had several week ago. The tree bent over almost to a 90 degree angle, but it straightened right up when the winds subsided. It was a beautiful thing to see.

Equality and Equal Standing

2005-02-26T22:43:00.000-06:00

Here is my first installment on church memories, which influenced me for good and calling me to live out Jesus’ commands.

During the Christmas Eve service back in December I noticed that all the acolytes were female. Tears welled up as I remembered the times I, too, served as an acolyte back in the 1970s. My oldest sister was the first female acolyte at my church. I followed in her footsteps several years later along with my middle sister. (For those unfamiliar with the liturgical worship service, acolytes assist the priest as they prepare the sacraments for Holy Communion. Acolytes also light the sanctuary candles, carry the financial offerings from the people to the priest, and present the crucifix during the processional.)

Anyway, as I watched those young ladies during the Christmas Eve service I was gratified to see females continuing to perform this service at the Lord's Table. I am grateful to have been raised in a church that allowed women to serve right beside men. From a relatively young age I saw the verse written by Paul, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus” lived out in practice. Galations 3:26-29

I married a man with courage and insight to question cultural teachings passed down through the generations regarding out-of-balance gender roles. I’m grateful for this. His intellect and adept logic keep me on my toes, yet he listens to me and learns from me as I do from him…equality and equal standing.

My mother and father also influenced my thinking regarding gender equality (probably more than they realize) though they would not describe themselves as feminists. Dad and I often discussed politics, economics, and religion. He encouraged me to pursue a career of my choice and erected no barriers based on my gender.

My mom taught me that Jesus was the first women’s liberator. Her comment now makes sense in retrospect as this was in the 70s during the modern feminist movement. Jesus’ respect of women was radical during the first century. He loved his women followers just as he did his male followers. He welcomed women into his midst, called them to follow him, touched them, conversed with them, healed them, ate with them, visited their homes, and received gifts from them. He also trusted a woman to be a reliable witness of his resurrection during a time when women were considered unreliable witnesses and easily deceived.

Doesn’t it seem that Jesus restored women’s dignity? He telegraphed a value statement, i.e. communicated value to them by his actions. He invited them to be at “his table” by eating with them, speaking to them, listening to them.

Respecting the value of both men and women and abolishing barriers that prevent each from fulfilling their life's mission seems a worthy cause and a foundational principle worth choosing.

Community Reinvestment and Church Memories

2004-12-19T17:23:00.000-06:00

I’ve decided on a theme that I hope will inspire me to write short postings on a more frequent basis. I’m hoping to write about memories of my church experience which influenced me for good. The idea was born out of a very angry moment today which at first glance seems totally unrelated.

I don’t intend to write about political issues on this blog, but this one really bothers me and I need to get it off my chest.

I read a blog entry on Bruce Prescott’s blog, Mainstream Baptist, regarding a proposal by Bush Administration appointees to essentially gut the CRA (Community Reinvestment Act). The CRA is a 1977 federal law that prohibits banks from discriminating against low- and moderate-income neighborhoods. This law was enacted because banks through their own bank policy “red-lined” minority areas and offered them neither credit nor banking services. With the original CRA requirements, banks with $250 million of assets had to provide services to all communities in which they were chartered. With the proposed change 90% of banks will no longer fall under CRA. I don't trust this generation of business people to voluntarily offer just and equitable lending and banking services on their own anymore than we as a country trusted business 25 years ago.

As a country I don't believe we have squarely faced our spotted history of racism, abuse, and discriminatory attitudes. Yes, we acknowledge them, but usually with a “that happened a long time ago and it’s in the past.” My belief is that people are ultimately driven by wealth, power, and reputation. Unless curbed these instincts divide instead of build up. They separate the “haves” from the “have nots” which eventually results in the consolidation of wealth and power. These misperceptions of superiority breed oppressive and abusive behaviors. I guess I’m a progressive at heart because I believe in good government. I believe that government can bring about good laws and regulations that curb (keep in check) the excessive instincts of humans and serve the common good.

I believe the church has a responsibility here also. Although I’m not currently an active member of a church congregation (more on that later – I hope), I still believe in the church’s ability to bring about good on this earth. I believe in the church’s unique place to provide an environment that encourages and challenges people to live the ideals spoken by Jesus in his Sermon on the Mount. He called people to live differently and to make decision differently. The differently is living “self-sacrificing” lives. I don’t think this means to hate oneself. Quite the contrary, to deny selfish instincts and selfish behaviors; to practice vigorous honesty which means to acknowledge (confess with no excuses) and repent of (turn from) self-centered living. I believe Jesus knew self-centered living eventually destroys the soul. These behaviors not only destroy the individual, but can poison and destroy those around the individual.

Okay enough ranting….Onto my new theme. I was close to tears and angry when I read the blog entry, but in keeping with my overarching theme of “Small Glimpses of Goodness” I decided to write on memories growing up in the church. I’m hoping to mine those memories from my church experience that have influenced me for good and have called me to live out Jesus’ commands.

Advent

2004-12-04T22:00:00.000-06:00

Today I read a new blog, Velveteen Rabbi, recommended by RLP. Velveteen Rabbi recently wrote a post prompted by her experience at an Advent service with a friend. She ponders questions about taking pleasure in the rituals of other faiths. A wonderfully thought provoking post.

I loved her description of the Advent candle lighting ritual.

Peter and his congregation lit the first candle in the enormous evergreen wreath that hangs from the vaulted ceiling of their church. Next week, two candles. Then three. Then four. And on Christmas Eve near midnight, they'll light the central candle, the final light, from which flame will be brought down to light the small tapers of everyone in the room.

Leaving aside for the moment the matter of Jesus, who is naturally a problematic figure for most Jews, I love this Advent ritual. It speaks to me. November has been a dark and in many ways difficult month; in my own personal world I feel the need for light, and when I steel myself to listen to the news it's clear the larger world needs some light too. This lighting of candles to celebrate the gradual revelation of spirit is a metaphor made manifest. Last year I was at Peter's church on Christmas Eve, and the experience of watching the light come down from the rafters and fill the room, tiny flame by tiny flame, was powerful. (Velvateen Rabbi)

Oh, how it brings back such sweet memories of Advent past. As I’ve mentioned before, I grew up in the Episcopal Church. My church was a relatively small parish of about 100 people. I loved the little church and have many fond memories of the people and community we shared.

Our church sanctuary was beautiful: a large stone altar in the center and a lectern and pulpit to either side. Above the altar hung a large austere silver cross. It descended down from a naturally lit vaulted ceiling.

Anyway, the advent season…the candle lighting service…purple, pink, white…such sweetness…such reverence. I’m transported back to those times I participated in this wonderful ritual. I’m grateful for Velveteen’s beautiful description. Precious, simple, yet profound.

Come Into My Keep

2004-10-26T08:26:00.000-05:00

I wrote this last fall while attending a class at a friend's church. Through the class I experienced a connection of sorts with God's Agape Love and through this some long locked away memories seemed to lose their painful hold on me.

The word "keep" is a theme of the poem. Initially, the word "keep" sounded weird because I never use the noun form of this word, but recently I learned from a friend that the definition of the noun form is "the stronghold of a castle". It changed the whole picture of the poem for me.

~*~*~ Come Into My Keep ~*~*~

No need of yours is too great for Me;
No need of yours too deep.
Come always and forever into My Keep
for I will attend you there.

No fear of yours is too strong for Me.
No fear of yours will turn Me away.
Come always and forever into My Keep
for I will attend you there.

Bring Me the burden you carry
for it is not too heavy for Me.
Nothing will scare Me.
Nothing will frighten Me.
Nothing is too awful for Me.
Just come always and forever into My Keep
for I will attend you there.

Let Me hold you.
Let Me kiss you.
Let Me comfort and dwell with you.

No struggle is too complex for Me,
No struggle too matted or mangled.
I am the God who saves.
I am the God who rescues.
I am the God who redeems from the pit.

Call out to Me; you will find Me
for I am a God who finds.

Forever and always come into My Keep
for you will find Me here.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~~*~*~

Tickled

2004-10-17T13:10:00.000-05:00

Today is my birthday. B and I went to our favorite place for our favorite drink. (Yes, it's Starbucks). Anyway, as we enjoyed our morning coffee I watched several birds out the window. Two in particular walked across the patio on an apparent mission. I've never paid much attention to birds walking. Their feet are completely unfurled when they walk, several appendages (?) pointing forward and one pointing backward. They seem remarkably stable. At one point one bird broke into a run and then just like that he was standing atop some monkey grass. The blades didn't even move. For some reason this scene just tickled me.

Some Hard Questions

2004-07-12T23:16:00.000-05:00

Today was a rough day. I was in meetings from 8:30 - 11:00, then again from 3:00-4:30. Have a big deadline Wednesday, so I worked until 9:30pm tonight. A 12 hour day. Whew! When I work long days like this I become fearful that I will return to my "workaholic" days. During the worst times, my motives for working long hours were less about deadlines and more about attempting to "redeem" myself and seeking my boss' approval. One receives lots of kudos when they produce lots of work. For me the kudos were a way of "medicating the inner pain". It worked for awhile, but eventually my work owned me and it became a living hell.

I don't think tonight was about either of these, but I'm not entirely sure. Schedules are tight and there is a lot of work to do. The team is feeling the pressure, so everyone is a bit testy. Unfortunately, when time is short, resources are short, and money is tight then "placing blame" for any miscommunication is just around the corner. This is especially true when people are discouraged which is the case for this project. I'm finding myself both tempted and actually succumbing to the blame temptation. Perhaps I feel a little guilty for not providing enough direction to the team. I don't know.

I guess I need to ask myself some hard questions. The purpose is not to condemn but to clarify so I can get back on the road to working hard for the right reasons, recognizing and valuing my limitations, and humbly bowing out of the role of savior.

June in my Town

2004-06-19T13:55:00.000-05:00

I just got back from a walk with my dogs. Today is simply beautiful and a welcome respite from the stress in my life at the moment. Normal June temperatures are in the high 80s, but today it is 70º.

This was one of those walks where all my senses were fully engaged. Traffic was unusually light, so I heard birds chirping and singing. It rained quite a bit in the last 24 hours, so everything is shining with a wonderful brightness. As I walked by some juniper bushes their fragrance just flooded my nose. Even the slight breeze was refreshing.

Anyway, it was an oasis of calm and beauty.

Vulnerability in Writing

2004-04-13T21:31:00.000-05:00

When I first shared my blog with some friends, I sent the link with these introductory words, “For me writing feels like holding an egg. I want to share my thoughts, but I feel so vulnerable. It doesn’t take much pressure to break the egg and the life that goes with it. It then takes a lot of courage to be willing to hold another egg.“ They encouraged me to write an entry about this. So here goes.

When I offer words for others to read, I want to offer a glimpse into my soul. But in doing so, I risk rejection which is my greatest fear. A negative response unknowingly becomes a flaming arrow that ignites smoldering fears. Did I say too much? Am I being too honest and open? Do my dark and messy places cause discomfort in people for I know they bring me shame?

Over the years I have watched the agonizing process of several dear ones as they worked to complete their master’s theses and PhD dissertations. So much fear lurks below the surface. “Is this good enough? Is it researched enough? Do my words say what I need them to say?"

Several weeks before Christmas, I walked to the Great Reading Room on campus which is part of the original library. This room is truly magnificent in every dimension. The walls are lined with beautiful bookcases where theses and dissertations stand. It was with sweetness that I walked around the room and read the acknowledgements. These bound books represent a finished work and the pages reflect a portion of their lives. Each time they opened their writing to another's eyes, they offered the fragile egg and the life within.

I truly admire the humility and strength of these to journey forward in spite of sometimes life crushing criticism. Every time they share a chapter with their advisors, they hope for encouragement and a tiny breath of life to fan their flame. Sometimes their flames glowed so dimly that criticism without encouragement left only a tiny glow.

I think back on periods in my life when my "flame" was but a tiny, tiny ember. I am so very grateful for those people who believed in me and sent encouragement my way.

A bruised reed he will not break and
A smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
(Isaiah 42:3)

Neat Blog Entry

2004-03-26T21:16:00.000-06:00

Just a quick note. I occasionally read the blog, Correction, which was recommended by Real Live Preacher on one of his blog entries. Anyway one recent entry recounts a meeting between these two bloggers. It's worth the read. Here's the link.
My Dinner with Real Live Preacher

Worship

2004-02-22T14:21:00.000-06:00

Real Live Preacher's recent blog entry "On a Wing and a Prayer" touched me today (as they most often do). He stretches my thinking and often leads me to a small glimpse (grin). I'm most touched by his last few paragraphs about worship. Here is a brief clip. (If you have time, read RLPs essay. It is really good...plus he includes a really cool picture)

"When the end you seek is so wonderful, so unthinkably good, and so compelling that you will throw yourself against time, space, and even reality for the slightest chance of finding it, you have found worship." Real Live Preacher (On a Wing and a Prayer)

I've always considered worship as something exclusively related to singing and/or music. Although I love music and I've been touched at times, I struggle with worship. I've observed people deeply moved by a piece of music. It is a sacred moment, but I find myself wondering "what is wrong with me". RLP's essay shows me another way.

Several weeks ago I was contemplating the Opportunity and Spirit landings on Mars as part of the Mars Exploration Rover Mission. That these tiny man-made machines are occupying space on another planet and sending information back to earth...WOW.

How tiny the space I occupy on earth...
How tiny the earth within its solar system...
How tiny this solar system within the universe...

In this context my infinitesimally small existence in the universe was mind boggling and bending. Quite frankly it was sobering. Yet, I still believe that somehow and for some reason this really powerful God of the Universe truly, truly loves me. I think this was a moment of worship.

Comments

2004-02-14T22:09:00.000-06:00

I finally got around to adding comments to my blog (thanks B!!). It was much easier than I thought it would be. Also, it was sort of fun to mess with the html code. I guess the programmer in me still lives on a bit.

I'm working on a blog entry about writing that I've been thinking about for several months now. It will probably turn into two entries. Oh Well!

P.S. Btw...Happy Valentine's Day!!!

Courage

2004-01-20T21:19:00.000-06:00

Today I did something that took a lot of courage. I'd put off this task until almost the last possible moment. "I'm proud of you. You did great!" were the words to my soul. Immediately I countered, "I'm not proud of me at all because I know how simple this task is and also I know just how much I've struggled to do this very simple little thing." As I approached the place to do my task, words came to mind about courage: "Be strong and courageous...be strong and very courageous."

As I ponder these words, I wonder if courage doesn't always look courageous from the outside. Yes, sometimes it is accomplishing a grand feat against all odds or standing firm on principle against strong opposition.

But maybe courage is also about what happens on the inside. Maybe I was actually being strong and courageous while wrestling with whether or not to do this thing. I sure didn't feel strong and courageous. I felt the opposite: weak and afraid.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that maybe struggling and wrestling with things is not a sign of being weak, cowardly, or faithless. But maybe it's in our weakness, fear, and doubt that we find courage to do what we know we need to do.

Sweet Healing Music

2004-01-02T18:37:00.000-06:00

My friend who writes the blog, A New Anglican’s Journey, posted music for Divinum Mysterium in the Advent posting. The song's name was not something I recognized, but the music and lyrics are precious to my heart.

My mother played the organ in the church where I grew up and she played this song during Christmastime. The music brings back wonderfully good feelings and memories from my childhood in the Episcopal Church. I always loved the Advent season when I was a little girl especially the candle light service on Christmas Eve: the candles, wreathes, poinsettias, the smells, the green and red, the air of expectation. Something about it always gave me pause and awe, and sometimes sweet tears.

As I listen to this piece of music over and over again tears roll down my cheeks. It's been a long time since I've felt good feelings about the church. I thank my friend for posting this piece of music. It is a precious glimpse of goodness.

Thanksgiving

2003-12-06T13:13:00.000-06:00

Thanksgiving - The act of rending thanks, or expressing gratitude for favors or mercies

B and I traveled to my aunt and uncle’s house in Leavenworth, Kansas for Thanksgiving. My sisters, their families, and my mom and dad also made the trip. I’m especially touched by a friendship that has developed between B and my uncle who is a retired military colonel. They are on opposite sides of many issues, but somehow this new friendship transcends the difference. I watched them interact both with humor and with serious conversation.

On the last day of the visit, I had a few moments alone with my aunt and uncle while B was getting ready. With watery eyes, my uncle spoke an especially powerful compliment to me about my husband. His words articulated characteristics about B that I’ve known and seen develop over the last 5 years. I have utmost respect for my uncle, knowing he sizes up someone’s character quickly.

I dearly love this man I married 15+ years ago. I express my deep gratitude for this man with whom I walk side-by-side on this journey through life.

Pine Trees

2003-11-11T21:55:00.000-06:00

The pine trees are gone; cut out several weekends ago. They've been looking sickly for several years now. No pine needles on the bottom half and some of the higher branches dead and brown. Over the years my husband, B, asked me several times to schedule an appointment to remove them. Somehow I just couldn't do it. Although diseased, these old things are somehow a comfort to me.

The morning they came, B and I went to Starbucks for coffee. When we pulled into our driveway we saw the ladder propped up against the tree and several large branches on the ground. As I gathered my things from the car, I felt a lump of sadness in my gut and my eyes started watering. I pushed these "silly" tears away and got out of the car.

On and off for the next few hours we watched their progress. My "silly" tears continued to occupy my gut.

These past weeks have been especially difficult. I'm feeling stretched at work...new topic, new technology, and using skills that expose my weaknesses. Also, I've been facing decades old emotional wounds...the kind you shove into a closet and lock up tight.

I recently discovered that my faith teaches me to face painful wounds. It's part of the healing process. I decided to open the locked door. I acknowledged the hurt as real and legitimate. I've been grieving and at times find myself weeping. In these moments I've found truth in the Psalmists words, "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

These old wounds are infected just like my pine trees. It's time to face this fact. I'm treating them; no longer practicing denial. Oddly enough, I'm discovering that as I uncover and "look them in the face", they are loosening their gripe over me. I'm seeing them for what they are, nothing more and nothing less.

The trees and stumps are now gone. Initially the area felt bare and empty. Today it feels open and free. I'm getting used to it. I actually kind of like it and suspect our big healthy maple tree will like the additional space to spread its beautiful canopy.

A Tear of Joy

2003-11-04T17:38:00.000-06:00

I was planning to replace my last entry with rewritten text, but something within my soul said, "No. Keep writing. Don't sensor." So here is the replacement text, but as a new entry.

* * *

Sometimes when I look at my animals a tear forms in my heart and every so often it makes its way down my cheek. Not a tear of sorrow, but a tear of joy. Joy that my cats, my dogs and their humans (three species no less) live peaceable under the same roof...well most of the time.

Frederick Buechner talks about this "tear of joy" in his book The Longing for Home. He recounts an experience with his wife and daughter when they "caught a glimpse of the Peaceable Kingdom". The experience that elicited their tears was at Sea World (of all places). He describes it this way:

The way the show began was that at a given signal they released into the tank five or six killer whales... [They] went racing around and around in circles. What with the dazzle of sky and sun, the beautiful young people on the platform, the soft southern air, and the crowds all around us watching the performance with a delight matched only by what seemed the delight of the performing whales, it was as if the whole creation -- men and women and beasts and sun and water and earth and sky and, for all I know, God himself -- was caught up in one great, jubilant dance of unimaginable beauty.

For a few moments we had seen and been part of the great dance that goes on at the heart of creation. We shed tears because we were given a glimpse of the way life was created to be and is not. We had seen why it was that "the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy" when the world was first made. (Buechner 1996, 126-127).

I, too, have gazed upon this dance between human and killer whale, and quite unexpectedly my eyes filled with tears in the same way Buechner describes. At the time I didn't ponder the meaning, but drank the goodness of the moment. It was a glimpse of something delicate and beautiful, something good.

Home

2003-10-26T13:47:00.000-06:00

As I think about what to post today I think of Miss Molly, my 6 month old tabby cat. She is curled up on my lap. Sometimes when I look at my animals a tear forms in my heart and every so often it makes its way to my eye. Not a tear of sorrow but a tear of joy. Joy that my sweet cats and dogs seek my presence and desire my love and affection. Our home is a place of safety and comfort for them. Our home is a place of safety and comfort for me, too.

Glimpses

2003-10-26T11:10:00.000-06:00

I’ve been thinking about the topic of this blog. My heart seems to say “write about the glimpses of Goodness that touch the core of our being”. I purposefully use the word “our” because sometimes my heart speaks things counter to my thoughts.

My heart and thoughts conflict at times. I go back and forth between courage and fear wondering if I can get words to express my heart’s language. It feels like such an enormous task, but today I feel a little bit braver than yesterday. Friday, I setup the web log but then chickened out. Today, I'm stepping out.