Top Ten Highlights The Week After Christmas

1. Got wrapping paper and candy canes for 50% off at Wally World.
2. Eradicated entrenched dust bunnies from their lair under the futon.
3. Ate way too much chocolate and had to go buy more.
4. Watched and rewatched my favorite home videos.
5. Checked out three novels from the library.
6. Replaced the shelf paper in the kitchen cabinets.
7. Got puppy shots and dewormer at Tractor Supply.
8. Found a clean, plot driven, family friendly movie that was not animated.
9. Registered a complaint with Fed Ex about packages that never came.
10. Was rousted from bed after midnight because the air compressor caught fire.

Jonah 2

 

 

While Jonah was inside the fish, he prayed to the Lord his God and said . . .

 

This struck me today. While he was inside the fish, Jonah thanked God for rescuing him from drowning. I imagine a dark, dank, extremely frightening, smelly place, slick with slimy digestive juices, and ponder. While Jonah was inside the fish, he prayed to the Lord his God.

 

But I will praise You and thank You while I give sacrifices to you and I will keep my promises to You. Salvation comes from the Lord.

 

Then the Lord spoke to the fish, and the fish threw up Jonah onto dry land.

 

And I thought I knew the story of Jonah and the Whale.

Sickness got the best of me this Thanksgiving, but I still felt obligated put on the whole 'turkey and pie' show. After, my husband took the kids for a boat ride. They returned to find me stretched out in the living room on a pile of pillows. My middle son used acting skills acquired in drama club to put on his best angst ridden, quavering voice. He said, "Don't go, Mom, don't go."

I ignored him---to no avail. He continued, "Don't go towards the light!"

I cracked an eyelid open. The only light I could see from my no longer peaceful repose was the kitchen light over the sink.

"Why would I go towards the light?" I asked. "There's dishes in there."

Pirouette

We move the kitchen table
off to the side
and sweep the floor well.

She puts on a pink tutu
and ballet slippers
worn through at the toes.

My naked quilt rack,
requisitioned for her purpose,
serves as the barre.

Piano notes tinkle
in harmony
with the clink of dishes.

Her little girl pirouette
turns
my kitchen into . . .

A world of dance,
music,
dreams.

Odd October

My brothers and sisters, when you have many kinds of troubles, you should be full of joy, because you know that these troubles test your faith, and this will give you patience. James 1:2-3 NCV

There were a lot of storms in October. Leaks sprung in the walls, two windows of the house, and my car trunk. The backseat of the car had to be removed and a large, bright blue tarp covered my auto. It stayed that way for quite some time.

The phone was out all month. I don't know if that was weather related.

I lost a tax bill, but couldn't call about it or drive to the courthouse to resolve the issue.

My dryer died.

The month progressed this way.

Lightning struck the network cable and fried the computers. I think that was the 30th. On the last day of the month, the T.V. made a loud POP and an acrid, electrical burning smell filled the house. Normally this would upset me, but I simply got up and went to finish cleaning the kitchen.

Then I discovered that the deep freezer had been off for three days.

After that one of the boys told me about the leaky toilet, so we spent some time tearing up the new flooring and disposing of it since it was ruined.

A little after 11:00 p.m. all was quiet except for a drip, drip, dripping. It was not raining. The fridge had decided to start defrosting and produced incredible amounts of water. There was water under the kitchen cabinets. Water had seeped through the wall and puddled in the utility room behind the dryer.

At 11:45 or so we heard an animal getting into the trash. My son put on his shoes and got a flashlight. Remembering the skunk that lurked nearby in the woods I said, "Let's wait fifteen minutes--until October's over."

Rich

Rich is not having to use the teabag twice.

Having an egg for the batter,
and milk from a jug,
Not a box.

Early morning caffeine fixes for two,
and muted conversation.

A platter stacked high with pancakes,
Ham for everyone,
and a family sized bowl of grits.

Rich is no elbow room at the breakfast table.

Pen Names

I've been working on a novel. It's hard work. I was staring at the computer keyboard yesterday and decided what I really needed was a pen name. When I was a little bitty girl, I was known by my family as DonnaMe. I thought, "Hey, I'll shorten it to D'me." At the time it looked kind of foreign and elegant to me. I was suffering from severe sleep deprivation and a headache.

I asked my family what they thought of the name. I had to write it out before they got it. My middle son read out loud, "Duh me."

I suddenly realized that if you live in Texas, only a dummy would name themselves D'me.

Send the Rain

My herbs have been neglected. They are in large pots on the front porch, but it's so easy to walk by them everyday without really seeing. One day I noticed that my dill had all shriveled up. I pulled up the little plants and rubbed the dry stalks over the pot of soil. Then I stirred it up with a twig and gave it a bit of water. A green thumb is something I lack, but I thought maybe something would sprout.

I watered the pot for a few days, but nothing happened. Things are busy around here, and after about two weeks with no results I let myself forget all about it again.

It's been raining. Tender green blades are poking up.

My prayer today is that God would water the areas in my life I have so long neglected. There are places I have planted good seeds, then became distracted and weary of tending them. I pray for the Master Gardener to impart life, for resurrection in the dry places.

Send the rain.

Hands

She stood waiting for Him. When He came near she noticed how unflinching his gaze was.

"Let me see your hands," He said.

Her eyes widened.

"My hands?"

"Yes."

Slowly she held out her hands. He took hers in His and scrutinized them.

"Your hands look dirty," He said.

A blush crept up her neck.

"I cannot get the stains out. It's from working in the garden," she explained.

He nodded.

He continued to look closely her hands.

He indicated a partially healed mark.

"What happened here?"

" The burn?" she asked.

"Yes."

"I was cooking and touched a hot pan."

"And the scar?"

She thought it was such a tiny scar that no one would notice, but He did.

"I was washing windows and one broke."

"Why are your hands wet?" He asked.

"A little boy fell over there," she gestured, "just a moment ago. I was waiting for You and had nothing else to wipe his tears with, so I used my hands."

"The garden," He said, "Was it my garden you were working in?"

"Why, yes Lord, it was," she said.

"Were you cooking for My servant when you burnt your hand?"

"Yes Lord," she said, remembering that she had been.

"This scar," He held up her hand, "Were you washing windows in the house built for those who come to hear of Me?"

She nodded.

"And these tears here in your palm, are they the tears of one of My lambs?"

"Yes Lord," she whispered.

"Beloved," He said to her, "You have the most beautiful hands."

Holiday Weekend

A weekend at home,
surrounded by my children
large and small.

Couches are full,
T.V. turned on,
movie time.

The cupboard is empty of bowls.
They wait, in the sink,
to be washed . . .
again.

I made Mom's Chicken Soup,
jello (three kinds)
and
a jug of sweet tea.

We are almost out of tissues.
The little one asks,
"Can Daddy go get me some Puffs?"

I spoon in purple medicine
and pass out white tablets.

A cool cloth.

She scowls,
looks at her brother
and accuses,
"He germed up the cereal bars."
Coughs.
"I bet he licked them."

Sweet Muffins

I wanted to make muffins this morning. I cook like my Nana did. Most of the time I don't bother to measure or look in a cookbook, but sometimes you need a recipe. I dug through my recipe box. What were they called? Breakfast Muffins? Easy Muffins? I flipped through cards for Angie's Cake, Baked Beans, Chocolate Frosting, Hawaiian Pork Chops. I smiled, remembering the time my box seemed unusually disorganized. I was shuffling through the cards that day when my then eight year old son said, "You know how you always say you can't find the recipe?"

"Mmm hmmm," I said, intent on my search.

"I fixed that," he said.

I looked up.

"You did?"

"Yup," he said proudly. "I put them in alphabetical order."

Nana had three boys, too.

I found the card. They are called Sweet Muffins.

Do you ever feel like you're a little 'different' from the rest of the crowd?

Blueberry Pancakes

This morning I made blueberry pancakes. We woke up late. The temptation was to rush and start the day because there is a lot to do today, but instead I made pancakes. For quite a while I have been meaning to spend time with my daughter cooking. Today she wanted to cook.

After we finished breakfast there was cleaning to do. I washed dishes while my daughter vacuumed the living room. She was moving a quilt rack when I told her to be careful. I always do. Today I told her why. "That was the last thing I bought for your grandmother," I said. My mother-in-law passed away before I had a chance to give it to her. I always meant to make her a quilt because she loved them so, but I only got so far. Quilts take a great deal of time.

I have a lot to do today. My list is very long. But first I need to do the important things.

Facebook

I finally got on facebook two weeks ago. Yesterday I was aimlessly looking around, seeing who my friend's friends were. All those memories attached to faces. Wow. Long ago acquaintances who made me smile just to see their pictures. I remembered sleep overs and borrowed clothes, bonfires and French tests, sneaking out of class to . . . never mind. I saw a few of the 'in crowd' who had surprised me during those difficult years with moments of unexpected kindness.

Then there was the girl who pointed and laughed at me. We were told to sit Indian style. My jeans were so worn at the inseam tiny holes showed the skin of my thighs peeking through.

I wonder what people remember about me when they see my picture.

Look for It

10 Ways I Said "I Love You" to My Family This Week

1. I slept on the lumpy pillow.
2. I made phone calls for someone perfectly capable of dialing themselves.
3. I did not yell about spilled spaghetti sauce on my clean tablecloth.
4. I washed nasty man-stinky clothes.
5. I cooked, for the same meal, separate lowfat food, low carb food, allergen free food, and food for Miss Picky. I did this three times a day, every day.
6. I did not ask hubby, "Did you fix (fill in the blank)?" a single time all week.
7. I administered eardrops to someone who knows not to go swimming without earplugs but did anyway.
8. I bravely battled wasps.
9. I watched a T.V. show I do not like.
10. I let someone else have the last enchilada.

Surprise Treasure

I was cleaning out my closet today, or at least attempting to, and look what I found. I coulda wore these here patriotic over-halls this past hollyday weekend! Sad to say, it's one of the few articles of clothing I found that actually fit me.

You know, they do match my white cowboy hat if I tie my red, white and blue scarf around as a hatband.

Things We Do For Love

I've been doing one of Beth Moore's Bible studies, Esther. We were listening to the accompanying cd yesterday and Beth told a story. Her 18 month old grandson had been sharing goldfish crackers with a rather large and drooly dog. Then he offered a cracker to his momma. Rather than break his little heart, momma did the brave thing.

Fast forward to today. Our church was planning an event after morning services with activities including one of those big blow up water slide thingys. My daughter had her heart set on playing on that slide. Last time we got rained out. She had brought her swimsuit, towels and extra clothes. She was ready.

Just about when it was time to go outside it started to rain. There was not a bit of thunder, just showers. Some of the moms did not let their kids play on the slide. Some did, and those in charge said it was ok. I remembered how when I was a kid we played in the rain every chance we got. So I let her go.

When play time was over we walked to the car together. I was trying to wring out my skirt as best I could before I got in. I told my daughter, "I am dripping wet!" She said, "Look at it this way. At least you didn't have to eat a goldfish covered in dog slobber."

Something New Revisited

Every morning another little kitty comes out of hiding!

Something New Every Morning

I stepped out the back door this morning to feed Princess. Princess is a beautiful, but rather sickly, hound dog that adopted us. She came and laid down on the front porch one day several months ago and would not leave. I told her we have allergies, but she didn't listen. I am even more allergic to cats.

A while after Princess decided to make this her home, a gray shadow of a cat could be seen slipping around in the back. After numerous sightings I decided we better worm and flea her. I was also influenced by the repetitive pleading of my daughter.

We named her Minnie. Worming her was not a problem, just mix the medicine in a little tuna. She has finally started to hang out near the house now and has overcome her skittishness. We were about to treat her for fleas. Yesterday when I woke up I walked into my daughter's room. I was sitting on her bed trying to get her to wake up when I found a flea on my ankle. That was yesterday.

It was a lovely morning when I went outside today. The sun was shining, I could hear the birds chirping, and . . . .something else.

A new discovery. We have been invaded with mini Minnies. Anyone want a kitten?

Baby Girl

She wears a white cotton gown that she took from my drawer. Her toes peek out from under the ruffled hem. I fix her coffee. Milk and sugar.

She cries. She says to me, "I don't know why I'm so mean to you sometimes."

I shush her and rub her back. She leans into me and I murmur quiet womanly words. She is afraid one day she will wake up and be someone else. I tell her that when she is as old as me some things will still be the same. Her head will lay on my shoulder and she will still be my baby girl.

Forever my beloved child.

White Bird

Yesterday morning we were driving along the highway.
My son said, "Hey! There's a white bird."
He grinned. "They're supposed to bring good luck."
After a pause I heard him mutter, "Usually all I see is crows."

Beautiful Girlhood

I love this book. I love the gentle old fashioned tone of voice throughout and the timeless wisdom contained in its pages. I adore the moments my little-girl-growing-up and I spend reading this book and talking about the issues it brings up.

The first time I read it I almost cried. I so wished someone had spoken to my much younger self in this way. I remember thinking,"I wish that someone had taught me these things, taught me to value myself."

Maybe not everyone likes this style of writing but if you have a daughter, or if you are a daughter, you should check it out.

Beautiful Girlhood-Karen Andreola

Laundry

I had been cleaning all day. I mean all day long-- like from 7:30. In the morning. At 10:41 p.m. I foolishly peeked into the laundry room as I was tossing a towel into the whites hamper. I could not believe my eyes. A frown creased the spot between my eyebrows. My lips were a flat, straight line.
"Where did all this laundry come from?"
My middle son shuffled over and looked at me with that hang dog expression.
I put my hands on my hips.
"It came from YOU," I accused.
He avoided my eyes, his guilt plain. Then his face smoothed out.
"Actually, it came from Walmart," he said, sagely nodding his head.
"I'm just the middle man."

My Quilt

For the last two days I have been attempting to machine quilt. As I was wrestling this monster, trying to shove the fabric under the needle, I thought, "If I had died no one would have finished this thing." I have a strong suspicion it would have ended up in a box at a yard sale, one of those ghastly unfinished projects tucked away among more useful items like rusty scissors and empty thread spools.

I started this project in February 2007. I needed something distracting and mindless to do, so I delved into my scrap fabric and started cutting quilt squares. I noticed I tend to buy lots of floral patterned material. I almost never buy solids. After a time all the little squares were neatly tucked away into a ziploc bag and buried in one of my big plastic tubs awaiting crafterly inspiration.

You know, once you have spent hour upon hour working on something you have to keep going even if you have no clue what it is. I think it was last summer when I pulled out the squares and started laying them out. From past experience with busy floral scraps I surmised that a few solids may help out and had accordingly cut some dark blue and beige squares. They were almost solid. You could barely see the pattern on them. It was very muted.

The kids helped me lay out a pattern that didn't clash too badly, keeping in mind that most of the time a quilt is in use you have your eyes closed anyway. It got bigger and bigger. We had to go to buy more of that sort-of-solid muted fabric. I decided that once it covered the space available on the living room floor it was big enough. There were challenges. I think this is much easier if you start with directions. Of course I did not have directions. This was a scrap quilt.

In constructing the quilt top, some of the pieces didn't quite match up. They were all mostly square and about the same size. I worked with it. Once the quilt top was made we all admired it, and then I folded it up and put it back into the craft tub until I could get batting.

It wasn't long before I went to the store and got the required batting and dug around in one of my boxes for sheeting for the back of the quilt. I was pumped from getting the top part done. But by the time I got out the folding table, cut the backing, unrolled the batting and coaxed the three independent layers together so I could pin the whole thing together I was tired. I would have stuffed it back into the craft tub, but it was too big now. So there it sat neatly folded in a corner of my bedroom until last week.

It's another summer and I decided to work on the quilt. I think I've gotten the hang of machine quilting it. The first third will need to be unpicked and restitched. All those squares are leaning against each other, this way and that. Kind of reminds me of an old rickety wooden fence about to fall down. I'll straighten them up. I'm getting there.

Projects like these give you time to philosophize. Quilting won't be rushed. It's good to think deep thoughts to keep yourself from muttering words you don't want your kids to hear you say.

A quilt is kind of like life. Bits from here and there, some scraps on hand, some you have to purpose to aquire. A little planning and a lot of improvisation. All the squares don't match up exactly right, but as a whole, with a little adjusting it all makes one big piece. Often parts have to be undone and redone. It never quite comes out exactly the way you originally envisioned.

When all is done it will serve its purpose, keeping someone I love warm and snug underneath a messy riot of mismatched memories. Some people will think this is one awful ugly quilt. Some will think it is ok. Some will think it is beautiful.

Yesterday I was getting frustrated. I thought,"God did not keep me alive to finish this quilt."

Now I'm thinking . . .

Maybe He did.

Matthew 7:1

If I could only use one word to describe her, it would be . . . gracious. She was very gracious when she thanked me for the meager offering. I had bought lunch; burgers and sodas. I think she might be diabetic because she asked for a diet drink and specified no ketchup. We did not exchange many words.

She collects porcelain dolls. It looked like most everything else was gone, but she had held onto her babies. When I said goodbye she was setting them out on a blanket covered hood of a car that had seen better days. It pained her to part with them---but as she said, "What can you do?"

There were two of them, husband and wife. Even though they were disheveled and dirty, they hadn't been on the road long. You could tell. They thought they were desperate, but they weren't quite on that edgy precipice just yet.

I do not know their story, where they came from, or how they came to be in this place. But there are some things I do know.

Every person is made in the image of God and as a unique creation of the Most High are worthy of respect.

If I am completely yielded to the Holy Spirit I need not justify my actions--or lack of them.

While I am to practice discernment, it is God's place--not mine, to judge or condemn.

Anyone.

News Flash/Hot Flash

Did you see the news yesterday? On the national news they announced that according to research, perimenopausal women have problems with memory. I had something really smart alecky to say about that, but by the time I got to the computer . . . I forgot what it was.

Seriously.