Random Musings from an Eccentric Mind

Hollering into the void

2011-09-27T16:40:00.000-07:00

It all started when I spilled my tea on my stat sheet....not the recommended way to get caffeine into one's system...or maybe it began when I had to claw my way out of bed. I saw this Calvin & Hobbes cartoon once. Calvin was trying to get out of bed, and his blanket kept grabbing him and wrestling him back into bed. This happened for three frames, until the final one, where his mother, off frame, calls out to him, "Calvin! Get up! You'll be late for school!" To which he replies, "I'm trying!" That picture came to mind this morning, when if felt like my quilt was also wrestling me back to a warm bed, aided & abetted by my pillow and my teddy bear/body pillow. I'm so glad I live so close to work...I punched in at one minute to!

Every now & again, I have a day where I blunder through it seemingly aimlessly, running into things, dropping stuff, forgetting stuff. A Keystone cops' kind of day, if you know your silent film icons at all. I told a coworker, who's birthday I KNOW is tomorrow, well, today I said happy birthday to her. After spilling tea on my stat sheet. After over brewing it cause I forgot about it (I prefer tea brewed to perfection, not so long you could dance on top of it!) After nearly dropping two breakable dishes of potluck offerings (at least got that day right!). I decided right then & there to stick to non-breakable mugs for the remainder of the day. And not attempt to repair anything.

It's the kind of day to stick to routine, to established routes, and simple recipes. And hope I survive.

I figure that if I'm on a roller-coaster kind of day, I might as well enjoy the ride, and laugh at the funny parts, even if I'm in the middle of them. And I did.

A Poem

2011-09-10T13:24:00.000-07:00

I haven't written poetry in years, but I used to use it to write myself out of depressive moods. This was my first attempt to literally change my mood from dark to light within a poem itself. Since I find myself fighting such a mood again, I thought I'd share this with you. I've gotten two reactions from it when I've shown it to others once before--one thought I needed serious counseling. The other found it hilarious. See what you think...

A Change

Tumultuous tidings herald the day, dismal tone set within,
A veritable requiem of death, fraught with murky images,
Despair slowly creeps slimy fingers 'round a cheerful heart,
Stifling, squeezing, crushing the pale fragment of life within,
Light quickly diminishes; the air, a thick, unbreathable mist,
Sadness takes stranglehold; hope falls into misty void....

But wait....

Brief shaft of brightness pierces the veil of cloudy despair,
Offering freedom, the fragmented shell within, dismal void.
Frantically clutching, straining, for soul-reaching light,
Creative heart struggles, misses, grasps again, success!

Bathing in beauteous light, on gentle breath of fragrant song,
Misery-laden wings shake of misty chains, take flight,
Soaring free, joyously buoyed by perfumed winds.....
Gaining thunderous speed, races towards friend-filled horizons.

The View from Beside the Fence

2011-08-30T18:15:00.000-07:00

There I sat, parked by the side of a fence in the employee area of Ren Faire, being serenaded by heart pounding drums, and voices raised in song. When that faded away, I heard my favorite sound--a single bagpipe playing Amazing Grace. At the second verse, he was joined by drums and a chorus of other bagpipers. The wondrous sound lifted up through the grove and towards the heavens.

I was waiting to pick up my daughter, who's part of the talented resident cast of Holly's Renaissance Faire. She spends her weekends working (some would say playing) in the Children's Dell, as Wildflower, the fairy.

I listened to the drums, as they pounded out a rhythm that had me dancing in my seat, I was people watching. What I saw was a complete juxtaposition betwixt the Renaissance and our modern age. I watched as gypsy dancers walked by, the coin bedecked belts around their toned waists jingling with every step. They climbed into a SUV. I saw several pirates heading out, carrying oars, treasure trunks and swords. I watch in amazement as one pirate playfully threatened several village folk, who were trying to drive off in a mud splattered jeep. Then two other pirates drove off on a motorcycle. Next I saw a group of peasant dancers walked by, one in earnest conversation on her cell phone. Another was listening and head bopping to the music on her mp3 player. I saw a tiny fairy lugging a huge suitcase.

What I noticed the most was a general sense of camaraderie. Cast members called out to one another. Many hugs were joyfully exchanged. I especially enjoyed watching a mixed group of village women, pirates and a stray gypsy, who stopped to admire an elderly pirates full flowing white beard. Picture a fit version of Santa, dressed as a Renaissance pirate. His beard was quite impressive. And apparently, soft.

I've heard stories from my daughter, but now I've seen the truth of the big hearted, caring group of people who make up the resident cast of our Renaissance Faire. Hope to see you there this weekend!

The Joy of Monotony

2011-08-23T19:09:00.000-07:00

I know. It's a weird blog title. But it makes sense. Bear with me for a moment.

I enjoy creating with my hands. Obviously, I like to write, both on a keyboard, and on a white legal pad using a hand made pen, infused with Scottish magic. But that's another blog....

I also love to crochet, as can be shown by the picture to the left. It started out as a normal scarf, to be worn with a long denim winter coat I owned. The scarf grew, seemingly on it's own, to the proper, perhaps even normal length for a long scarf. By then, I was enjoying myself far too much, and inspired by the 4th Doctor, had to continue on until it was long enough to wear touching below both knees and looped generously around my neck. I regretfully no longer own that wondrous coat, but the scarf of legends remains. It's very useful. It can be used as a hat, or wrapped around my arms, as a band to sweep snow off a car.

I also love to braid denim into a rug, hand sew, and cross stitch. I dabble in embroidery. But the lure of yarn is always there. I don't even know how to read a pattern...I just continue on, making square or rectangular things. I know my children are afraid I'll slipcover the entire building in crochet.

What do all these things have in common? Repetitive motion with the hands. Saying that sounds, well, monotonous. And it is. But that's a good thing. Why?

When I pick up my latest crochet project (a lap blanket), and begin, a sense of peace falls. I am lulled by the repeated motion. Stick the hook into the back loop. Twist the yarn around. Pull it through. And so on. Rinse, repeat. This lulling motion allows my mind to drift. I either watch tv (sci fy channel), or talk to a friend, or simply think. Crafting with my hands is my best thinking time. It's very relaxing. I'm certain my heart rate lowers.

Try it sometime...pick up a repetitive motion craft. It doesn't have to be 'girly'. I've worked on hand sewing while a friend worked on making chain mail. By hand. It involved wire, snips, and some muscle to wrap that wire around a stick. But it's the same.

Try it, and let me know what you experience.

3.14

2011-08-16T18:53:00.000-07:00

Today I was working on a exercise from the book, The Artist's Way, by Julia Cameron. In this particular exercise, I was directed to write down five imaginary lives. If you had five imaginary lives, what would you do? I went into this exercise with an open mind, and jotted down the first thing that came to mind. And it surprised me.

For my first imaginary life, I'd be a pie baker for a diner. Some home style diner on Main Street in Small Town America. I could actually see the diner in my mind. A long counter top, with stools filled with regulars. Several 2 and 4 tops scattered strategically in a small, but open feeling space. Bright sunlight drifting in through sparkling windows. A chalkboard above the griddle advertising the day's specials, including the famous blue plate special...served on an actual blue plate! Behind that counter, serving up coffee and pie, would be an older woman, wearing a starched uniform, and homey looking apron. Her name is Mabel, and she's worked there all her life. She knows everyone, and if they order 'the usual', she knows exactly what they mean.

And there I'd be, back in the kitchen, rolling out dough for pies. There's an art to making pie dough. Do it wrong, and you have something inedible and tough enough to resole your shoes with. Do it right, and you have a flaky, tasty creation, fit to hold the fragrant filling within. My specialty would be (and is) apple pie. Made with two kinds of apples, liberally spiced with brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg, freshly ground. There would be strawberry pie in the summer, and pumpkin pie in the fall. And bubbly blueberry pie, served warm with melty vanilla ice cream. And in the ice box display case would be banana cream & a tall chocolate dream pie. Mmm....

When I had a spare moment, I'd slip out and chat with the customers, and slip fresh snickerdoodle cookies to the kids. It would be hard work, but very satisfying.

I'm not sure what the point of the imaginary lives exercise is, but can't wait to find out more.....

Thank you for sharing this momentary vision with me.... Mmm..now I want a piece of warm apple pie. Hey, I do have two kinds of apples in the fridge right now!

A bright moment in my day

2011-08-13T18:18:00.000-07:00

The best part of my day today took all of 3 minutes. I have this gorgeous hutch desk. The fold out desk part had a screw missing on the hinge that supports it open. It's been this way for a couple of months now. Every time I'd open it, I'd think, gee...need to get that fixed. Then I'd dump something on the desk, close it up and walk away. Well, today I finally decided to clean up the pile on that desk top. When I found the actual wood top again (took a while!), I remembered the missing screw. My first thought was, gee, need to call Loyd and see if he'll fix it. (The man can fix anything, create anything out of wood). My next thought was, duh...first try to fix it myself. So I did. I only had to try two different screws to find the right one that fit. But the best part was the feeling of accomplishment. I did it myself.

I read an article in a magazine recently, that was discussing the benefits of doing manual things. Cooking a meal from scratch. Knitting a scarf. Repairing an engine. The actual act of doing something with your hands gives a feeling of accomplishment that actually has benefits beyond the obvious. The act of doing can help ease depression, increase a person's sense of well being.

I learned the value of taking care of things from my parents. If a sock has a rip, mend it. The pole from your artificial Christmas tree snap in half? Well, we had that happen....and my dad repaired it, and we used it for years. (think they still do). I also learned the joy of making things, and cooking from scratch from them.

So, yes, today my brightest moment came from replacing a missing screw. Tomorrow it might be from sewing a quilt square. I am happiest when I'm doing something. Try it! And let me know how it makes you feel.

Supreme Summer

2011-08-09T17:51:00.000-07:00

Since moving to my lovely apartment, I've been enjoying the seasons so much more. I think it's in part the relief of having maintenance to do the repairs, and in part because this place is so filled with light. I sit here, at my antique secretary desk (as a child, I repaired the chips at the corner of this old, beautiful piece, by filling those chips in with Elmers glue. Surprisingly, still there.), at half past 8 at night, and I have a window to my left and one in front of me. I can see brilliant green grass, the branches of trees out both windows, and am listening to the birds chirping a chorus. Beautiful!

Summer brings to mind ice cream, cut off denim shorts, and pool-side chats. I remember summers as a child. I'd ride my tricycle around the sidewalks, and sometimes on the grass. I played for hours in the sandbox my father made for me. I ran through the horseshoe shaped sprinkler with my sister and brother. And we drank kool-aide by the gallons.

I remember summers spent on my trusty green ten-speed, ranging all over Sterling Heights, with my best friend. We rode our bikes, wearing those too short cut off jeans, raveling at the edges, until we were tired, or bored. Then we'd stop, and split a two litre of Pepsi. Always Pepsi. I don't even know why.

Years later, I was the one hooking up a sprinkler, making the kool-aide, and buying those bikes. The sound of my children's laughter as they played in the water is a precious memory to me.

I still have that ten speed, though it's living down in my basement storage room. One day soon, I'll pull it out, take it to that bike place in Swartz Creek, and get new tires, and thingies greased. I still wear denim, though now it's full length jeans, or my favorite faded capris. And I still have that best friend, and it's stronger than ever.

Though I have traded the sprinkler for the apartment's pool, and do laps instead of cannon balls, there is no doubt that it's still summer. The days are long and full of sunlight. And the ice cream is still cold and delicious. Mmm...chocolate chip mint.

Waterford Hills Racetrack

2011-08-03T17:20:00.000-07:00

Some of you may wonder where I disappeared to this weekend. Others know exactly where I was, because they were there right beside me. The place where I spent the weekend, at is the same place I used to go with my dad. When I was still in elementary school, sometimes my dad would take me, my sister & brother to a racetrack, maybe an hour away from where we lived.

I spent many hours watching racing at Waterford Hills Racetrack. There were, what I thought of as Indy cars, racing, and regular cars. I always cheered on the VW bug, cause I loved those cars (yep, cause of Herbie). Still do.

Fast forward a few years, to 2008, the year my youngest child graduated, and I decided to volunteer in the paddock. I asked my friend, Erik (a flagger) about the various jobs available. Being a typical engineer type, I got a 3 page email, describing the different jobs (with emphasis on how cool flagging was). I choose working Grid. What's that? What does a Grid girl (or guy) do? We check drivers' safety equipment, grid them (line them up in their slots based on qualifying), and get them out onto the track, as well as emergency duties. What is Grid? It's the 30 space 'parking lot', where cars line up before heading out onto track.

What is it like? Imagine this. Standing at the center of Grid, with my eyes closed, between races. I get the very essence of Waterford Hills racetrack--Excitement. The sun beats mercilessly down on my head, causing sweat to bead on my forehead, despite being shaded by my pink Corvette baseball hat. My red t-shirt, a size too big, emblazoned with 3 inch high letters spelling out G R I D on my back-my shirt feels like I'm wearing saran wrap. Yet, I'm happy.

I can hear the open wheel cars as they thunder by pit lane, heading towards turn 1. I hear the cry of joy as crew members witness their driver passing the car in front, and pull out into the lead. I hear the jangle of a harness as a dog is walked across grid. The sound of laughter tickles as children play in the shade of their camper, parked nearby in Paddock. I can smell the exhaust of so many vehicles, and the waft of grilling bratwurst coming from the snack shack.

I hear the sound of happiness, and running feet, as the crew and family of the winning driver race towards pit lane, to witness the feat. I watch as the bright orange car drives around the track, holding aloft the treasured checkered flag. The fans cheer as he takes his victory lap.

I went to the two race weekends this past month, wondering if I was going to continue doing this. After this past weekend, there is no doubt. I am staying; I enjoy it too much. I feel so much a part of Waterford, have made good friends, and great memories. I can hardly wait for the next race weekend to arrive!

Be seeing you all soon! I'll be the one in the red shirt, pink hat, and yellow whistle.

Poof!

2011-07-27T17:27:00.000-07:00

Poof! What happened? Life intervened a little too well, and I seem to have dropped off the grid for a month or so. (No, Jamie, I don't mean the Grid wherein I wear a red shirt and hassle, er, keep drivers safe.) I apologize for my long absence and promise to do all I can to not repeat it in the future.

So, it's finally summer. My deck garden is getting tall and green! I've a few small baby peppers growing, and one big one that I'm waiting until it ripens to red before I pick it. No tomatoes yet, though both heirloom plants are as tall as the deck rail. Actually, the stripey one took a tumble and broke in half, but it's recovering. I've had to hack, er, prune the herbs. Though the three, oregano, basil & mint, are together in a modest container, they seem intent on world domination, starting with my deck. The strawberries have run their course and are now a pretty green leafy plant. And the two pots containing flower seeds from packets that had the year 1959 are actually growing. Slowly, but there are plants growing! Wow.

My friend, Andrea, asked me why she hadn't heard about me writing much lately. I realized I have also taken an inadvertent hiatus from one of my great passions-writing. Let this blog be my statement of renewal. I am writing again henceforth. (mentally, I'm hearing thunderous music, and a guy shouting Ta Da!)

My other passion, I have been indulging greatly in. I have been reading Rick Roirden's series (Yes, they are young adults, or teen books, but that's a genre I enjoy, and want to write.) I've also been reading several quilting books and ones on vegan cooking. No, I'm not vegan; I love cheese too much.

Pet peeve- people who utter, 'oh, reading? I don't have time to read.' So, I ask them. 'do you smoke?'. Usually, the answer is yes. See, I find the same mini pockets of time to read that the busiest person finds to smoke. And reading is a whole lot healthier. Reading is like exercise for your eyes and mind. It's a mini trip without the gas prices. It's learning something new. It's an adventure, and excitement, all in a handheld, easily operated device. A book.

Enough rambling thoughts. I'm back. I'm writing. I'm always reading, and interested in what you all are reading, or suggestions for books/series to read next.

Musings on Ice Cream

2011-05-31T15:58:00.000-07:00

It's extremely hot outside right now. Hot enough that after taking a shower the minute I got home from work, that I'm now cold in contrast. I am very thankful for the modern convenience of central air. I have even been brave enough to try the air in my cruiser, on occasion. Not today though...today, despite the heat, what I call hill billy air conditioning worked quite well. Hill billy air conditioning=roll down the windows & drive fast.

I remember summers as a child. I had never even conceived of even an air conditioner until I saw one at my Uncle Paul's house. We simply used fans at home, wore shorts & tank tops, and drank sweet tea (or kool-aide). When it got too hot, we would run through the sprinkler. Our sprinkler was cool...it was different than our neighbors. Instead of waffling back & forth, ours was in a horse-shoe shape, and the spray would jet up like a reverse Niagara Falls. My sister & little brother & I would run back & forth through the spray. Invariably, one of us (usually me) would pick up the horseshoe, and try to chase the others with it. Always got in trouble for that one...and you can't run far when the sprinkler is attached to a hose!

The best part of summer was always ice cream. My parents often took us to this ice cream place in Berkley (MI, not Calif). There I would have my choice between vanilla, chocolate, or a twist. I always chose the twist. Then I would sit on a picnic table to simultaneously enjoy my cone and drive my sister nuts. I would slowly lick my ice cream, bit by bit..... My sister, having finished nearly half of hers, would ask me why I was eating so slow. I'd answer 'I'm savoring it.' Don't know where I learned that word at such a young age, but I knew it, and knew the answer would drive her nuts. Then of course it'd be time to leave, and my parents would tell me to finish my cone, and I would...the last one to do so. (so mean!)

Then there was the magic of the ice cream truck.... Ding ding ding. The sound would call us outside, to run after the slow moving truck. Sometimes I would get a treat from the truck, sometimes I wouldn't. Though I learned quick that if one parent said no, to NOT ask the other one. I got in so much trouble once when I did that...

Even now, I count ice cream as one of my favorite foods (pizza, jelly beans are some others). The best hard pack ice cream is choc chip mint. MMmm.... and it has to be the green kind. White choc chip mint is somehow, wrong...it just is. Though since my daughter Melody (formerly known as Cat) started working at a business near a DQ, I've been tempted by them. Their peanut butter buster sundae is scrumdidlyunpteous! Mmm...now I want ice cream....

Vacation Memories

2011-05-26T18:10:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine is taking a vacation starting tomorrow. That started me thinking about the yearly vacations I took with my family as a kid. We always started way before the sun was up. My younger siblings and I would stumble through the morning darkness, somehow feeling like we were doing something naughty, being up at such an hour. We'd pile in the back seat, with the usual argument about who had to sit in the middle seat. With paper grocery sacks filled with our toys at our feet, we'd buckle in, and begin the journey, quietly at first.

The sun would slowly rise as we traveled down the road. My sister & I would start watching out the windows, looking for the sign. There! As soon as we spotted the gigantic Tire at the side of the freeway, we'd start clamouring for breakfast. My mother would pass back styrofoam cups, plastic spoons, and those nifty mini boxes of cereal. I loved those! So many choices! We would eat our cereal in the cups, with milk from a thermos.

As the hours wore on, well, we were typical kids. In the days before handheld games, cell phones and mobile movies, we had only our toys and imaginations to entertain ourselves. Inevitably, one of us would get bored. And that one would decide to annoy his or her siblings. Not me, of course.

"Mom! She poked me." "Mom! He breathed on me." "Moooomm! Her hot sticky leg is touching me!" And of course, the old trick of waving your hand above, in front of, near, but Not touching.... And then it'd happen. "Don't make me pull this car over."

Memories.

We would eventually get to our destination. Sometimes it was Faribault Minnesota, to see my Great Great Uncle Paul & Aunt Ethel. We'd go fishing, harvest corn from 'communial' fields (just duck if you see a car), and eat the most incredible gingerbread cookies I've ever had.

We would often go to Canada. I grew up with Canada as my playground. We went mostly to Tobemory. To find Tobemory, look at the Bruce Peninsula, and there at the very tip jutting into the Georgian Bay, that's Tobemory. It's a quiet harbor, near the Georgian Bay National Park. There are sunken ships we'd view through glass bottomed boats. There was the Flower Pot island we wandered about (and those pesky black flies). But mostly we stayed in the marina, at this cute motel. It was a safe place, and my sister and I were allowed to wander to the stores, unaccompanied! What freedom! And the snacks available there...so different than back home. I drank Five Alive (a juice blend sold in cans), and ate Milkshake bars, and lots and lots of Crunchie bars. They are still my absolute favorite candy bars! Mm....

The best part about vacations was always coming home. Somehow, home seemed a more precious place, after spending a few weeks on the road. Back home, where my beloved teddy bear, Great Big, awaited. All my barbies, and all my books. The back yard where I played in the sand box for hours. The street where my friends and I would play badminton, moving aside as cars came by. Home.

Have a great vacation, Ro!

A Joy filled Day

2011-05-22T18:54:00.000-07:00

Today was a joy filled day. I didn't spend it floating in a sailboat on a lake, nor resting in a sunbeam on a pretty quilt. No. I spent most of the day working. But first I got to drive through the darkness of a brand new morning, to pick up my daughter Melody (formerly known as Cat). I am starting to grow very fond of Swartz Creek. There are some really quaint looking shops that I hope to visit sometime soon, instead of just sailing on past. (It'd help if I wasn't always going through there early morning or late at night!).

Then I spent most of the day at work, with a quick sun filled errand in the middle. As I drove down Morrish road, with the wind blowing my hair into a tangle, and a baroche concerto playing at a louder volume than Mozart intended, I realized that the feeling bubbling up in my was pure happiness. I kept smiling...it wouldn't stop. Giggles bubbled out of me.

I have a great job, a coworker who is a close friend, a beautiful apartment with a deck garden that's sprouting, a wonderful cruiser to drive, a family church nearby.....and a world of possibilities ahead of me. I have books to read, more coming from the library (it takes constant feeding to satisfy my reading addiction), a story that I'm nearly done writing (soon as I get my backside reglued to my chair again), several hand crafts waiting, and racing season has started! So much to be happy over.

So this post may be unintentionally a bit boring, but I'll gladly shout out that amazing phrase: I'm happy.

Gardening on the deck

2011-05-17T18:40:00.000-07:00

My obsession with gardening began at a very early age. My earliest memory is of sitting next to the garden (I was like maybe 1 or 2), while my mother weeded. I remember reaching out and picking a green bean, and then eating it, dirt and all. When I'd play in the yard as a small child, I would 'plant' flowers in the sand box. As I got older, I helped my father with his garden. We'd grow vegetables in the small plot at the back of the yard, and tomatoes between the fence and the driveway. Later, I started transplanting pretty plants (translate that to weeds) to the space behind the garage. I don't know how, but I really got stuff to grow back there! In fact, the creeping ivy that I started there creeped out from behind the garage, and began to take over the entire lawn!

As I got older, and after multiple readings of The Secret Garden, I got to have my own garden plot. I don't remember just what I grew, just how much I enjoyed doing so. In the years that followed, I had several gardens. I read this book about Square Foot Gardening, and proceeded to double dig down 2 feet, and added to the soil (after unearthing bricks and old tonka trucks). I had a great garden that year, even though the birds did eat part of our corn. Then we moved. I tried it again. We moved again.

I never gave up. I've done vegetable gardens in rented houses, home owned places, and now here at my apartment. I have a beautiful deck, and in containers I am growing herbs, heirloom tomatoes, peppers, and my daughter is growing strawberries.

What is it about gardens? Is it the scent & feel of the dirt in your hands? Or is it watching those seeds slowly pop out of the earth, and shoot upwards...eventually giving way to big vegetable laden plants? Or is the joy of eating produce you grew yourself? I don't honestly know. What I do know is that I come from a long line of farmers. My mother says I am just like my father. The first thing I do when I get home is to walk out onto my deck, and check on my garden. My father does the same thing...checks on his plants as soon as he gets home. Being compared to my father, that is high praise.

I can't wait until I can see how my striped heirloom tomatoes, and red carrots turn out!

Daffodils

2011-04-26T19:02:00.000-07:00

It's been all cloudy and gloomy out for the past couple of days. Thunder, lightening, dark broody clouds...this is what I see when I peek out of the windows at work, through my car window, and as I sit on my sofa looking through my window wall. Darkness. Rain. Blah.

But there have been a few bright spots. I've learned to look for them, to bring a bit of sunshine into my life. There are the daffodils growing at the front door of my church. Then there was seeing my friend Bev home from Florida. An unexpected gift from my daughter.... A beautiful piano concerto playing on 90.1 on the way home from work.... kind words from a friend.

Ok. So. That's it. I'm off to sleep...and try to dream up a few daffodils.

Random Bits

2011-04-19T18:02:00.000-07:00

It's a cold, blustery day, and the sun has gone down. It's been an intense couple of weeks. Seems like my lists are growing more complex and unrealistic. But there have been some serious bright spots. Like tonight...here I sit in at an antique secretary desk from my childhood, with the sweet scent of banana walnut muffins filling my wonderful apartment with anticipation. I'll have a great breakfast to go with my morning tea tomorrow.

Speaking of my beautiful apartment...I can sit here, without worrying that the rain that is pounding down will spring a leak in my roof, or cause plumbing problems. I love it...if there's a problem, I call maintenance! I've even learned to like having a dishwasher. (ok, deep breaths..the world is NOT coming to an end)

I feel like my life is just beginning...anew. The world feels full of possibilities. Now if I could just find the Time and Energy to attack those possibilities! I've been so tired lately...so tonight I'm moving up my bedtime to an early one. I've even got my bedside book ready.

What? Oh, the bedside book? I am currently reading about 4 or 5 books. My sofa book is Living Oprah (a woman who tried following all Oprahs suggestions for a year, blogged about it and got a book deal too). My living room chair book is "Vinyl Cafe Diaries" (love it!). My table book is Kindred in Death. And I feel I should duck and hide, but my bedtime, put me to sleep after I do my nightly Bible reading (we are on Ecclesiastes), is Twilight. (quick throwing things). Whenever I finish any of these, I have two bread baking books, one vegan cookbook, a sci-fi novel called Downsiders, and a new Writer's Digest waiting. That doesn't even count the books I've waiting for me at the library. I seriously love reading.

It's late, I'm tired, and out of random bits. Time to go curl up with my bedtime book. Night.

My daughter, Melody Catherine

2011-04-12T19:14:00.000-07:00

Twenty-one years ago, at 4:12pm, I gave birth to a little girl. She was born with a dark brown mohawk. I'm not kidding. I full inch of hair on top of her head, and none on the sides. Her grandmother, upon hearing that I was in labor, immediately hopped in her car, and drove the 4+ hours from Michigan to Indiana, and walked in when she was 15 minutes old.

She spent most of her childhood under the belief that she was the same age as her twin older brothers-a full 22 months older. I have little memory of her crawling. As soon as she figured out how, she was running after her brothers. At 18 months old, she said her first sentence...and I remember it to this day. "Benny is burrowing my pi-yo." Though she had trouble with the words 'borrowing' and 'pillow', I was amazed. And sure enough, there was Ben, fast asleep with his head on HER toddler pillow. Such an amazing girl!

Then came the day when her brothers went off on the big yellow bus to preschool. She was mad! This was the day when she figured out she wasn't one of triplets. She stomped around all afternoon, until they came home. Then with a huff, she exclaimed that she was glad that was over. Oh, her face when she learned they'd be going back the next day!

Then there was the day she was in the doctor's office, when she was maybe 4. Her father pointed to a poster of a skeleton, and informed her that was inside of her. She said, "No. I have an Indian inside of me!" (her take on my explaining that there was Cherokee blood in our family).

There was the Christmas, where she and her brother Bob abandoned their new toys, and spent most of the day fashioning a two story treehouse out of cardboard boxes (for her Stacy dolls). It was fun to watch them working together, and going through a LOT of tape!

I've seen this girl grow from a young kid playing with Barbies, to a young lady playing a video game involving racing cars. She's gone from refusing to wear anything but dresses, to an over sized 'attitude' t-shirt style, to a fashion sense that involved kitty ears and a tail. (okay for youth group, but she always respectfully removed them before entering the sanctuary). Her style is ever evolving, but is always uniquely her.

She is an accomplished artist, in pencil, paint (you should see the paintings hanging in my house!), and on the computer. She is obsessed with all things Japanese, from the language, to the food (and now I love soba noodles because of her), to the toys (hello kitty, ball jointed dolls, etc). She is eccentric, has a wicked sense of humor, and a kind heart.

She is a beautiful soul, and I'm proud to have her as a daughter.

Happiness

2011-04-10T12:47:00.000-07:00

Here I sit, trying to figure out what to write about on my blog today. And my mind is a drifting. After a long dark winter that seemed like it was never going to end...today I really truly believe spring is here. I'm sitting at my writing desk, in a sun filled bedroom, with the window open to my left, and birdsong drifting in. Beautiful day! I picked my daughter up from work (it gives me so much happiness to say that!) today, and everywhere I looked there were signs of spring. And I drove with my windows down (hillbilly air conditioning: roll windows down, & drive fast!), while wearing a tank top I dug out of my summer clothes drawer.

I've distracted by happiness. It's no longer so dark each day. My daughter is employed, and feeling positive about life. My one son is married, and working a great job. My other son is working, draws a wonderful comic (http://www.bobcomic.com/), just volunteered (again) at the Give Camp (web design for non profits), and I'm so proud of him for that! Spring is here. I get to spend part of each day either sewing or writing or both! I've an entire series of books waiting of which I've only read the first two, and years ago. OOO.... (oh, sorry... Magic Kingdom for Sale by Terry Brooks).

I have a job I enjoy, and feel competent at, and work for a great boss. I am part of a vital, vibrant, active church. I get to spend a weekend a month volunteering at a cool racetrack (from April-September), and be up close to watch the races (and harass the drivers). I have a best friend that I have known longer than either of us care to think about. I have other friends, here in the area, who I can call up if I have a bad day, a good day, or just 'feel like some Mexican'.

I'm getting more at ease with cooking and living vegetarian. Today I made some baked burritos for dinner (and my lunch tomorrow). Wrapped in whole wheat tortillas were refried beans (vegetarian, of course), taco sauce, brown rice, orange pepper, black beans and corn). They were terrific, and filled with goodness.

All in all, I'm fairly happy. So, what on earth or in heaven can I write about today?

The Journey, thus far

2011-04-05T17:52:00.000-07:00

It has almost been an entire year since I went vegetarian. I still feel like a V.I.T. (vegetarian in training). There have been some bumps along the way. The hardest has been having to explain over and over again why I made this choice. I just don't like the taste nor texture of meat. It's as simple as that. That's why you won't see me eating any veggie burgers or veggie sausage...still tastes like meat. Ick.

Other bumps have been attending various functions....walking into a typical summer gathering, I find that most are meat fests. So there I sit, holding a plate of potato salad and fruit salad. That's about the only non-meat dishes I can find. Or I walk into potlucks, and find there are no non-meat protein sources. It finally hit me at the last one at church, that it's okay for me to bring a main dish that is non-meat! I make a great vegetarian lasagna...and mac & cheese...and I'm experimenting with my mother's recipe for baked beans, working on a tasty vegan version. I'll be prepared next time!

Then there is the taco filling I attempted to make out of black beans, corn, zucchini and salsa. It was tasty, but kept falling out of the taco shell! I'd take one bite, and wham...there would be an empty taco shell, and a pile of filling on the plate. (turns out it's a tasty burrito filling!).

However, there have been successes. I have discovered that I love tostadas topped with refried beans (vegetarian kind), topped with diced red pepper and sauteed corn & onion. Yum! And I love red pepper and pineapple pizza. And black eyed peas are still tasty on top of crumbled cornbread....

So I'm still learning, but I'm enjoying my new way of life. I feel healthier and happier. The adventure continues on....

New Hope & Interesting Possiblities

2011-04-03T19:20:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I spent a couple of hours in Barnes & Noble, my favorite bookstore. I enjoy just hanging out there, reading magazines, checking out books, and sipping my favorite hot cocoa. I often have interesting conversations with complete strangers.

But yesterday afternoon, as I wandered about the store, I didn't feel like gabbing. I found myself in the cooking aisle, looking for a bread baking book called Bread Alone. While I didn't find it, I found an entire section on Vegetarian & Vegan cooking. Armed with an armload, I curled up at a table and spent about 2 hours perusing them. I found a recipe for homemade vegetable broth, something I have been looking for. I found recipes for Scotch broth & Minestrone (both meatless).

In the course of my time there, I read three Vegan cookbooks, and got some ideas of how to incorporate more variety into my diet. See, I've been struggling lately, with coming up with balanced and tasty meals. I gave up cheese (& ice cream) for Lent, so suddenly I've had to be more creative with my cooking. Can't just dump cheese on it and call it good. In reading those cookbooks, I received new hope that this lifestyle, living vegetarian, is not only possible, but enjoyable.

I now have a renewed hope, and my menu plans are full of interesting possibilities. Now if I could just stop craving pizza..... (mm...red pepper & pineapple).

Mmmmm.....

2011-03-29T19:13:00.000-07:00

This morning, I engaged in an activity that I really enjoy. It's something I learned to do in my early twenties, simply by trying and trying again. My first attempt was not so good, but with practice, I became fairly comfortable with the results.

What am I talking about? Baking bread. I am not talking about dumping ingredients into a bread machine and pushing the on button, but the real experience. Using simple flour, yeast, water, sugar and a few other ingredients, I can create something worthy of fresh jam.

There is something so enjoyable, nearly sensual, about the process. There is the scents...that warm yeasty smell that brings a sense of anticipation to the atmosphere. Then there is the fell of the dough. I set a timer, then it is just me and that dough. At first it's a pile of flour that sticks to the board. I sprinkle on more flour, fold the dough in half, then turn it a quarter. This action I repeat over and over again, and slowly, the dough comes together, becoming an elastic, smooth ball. There is such an elemental feeling as you stand there, up to your wrists in warm dough.

Then I put the dough ball in a greased bowl, cover it and step away for an hour.

The time up, I check, and find the ball has doubled in size. Now comes the fun part. I plunge my fist into the warm dough, deflating it. Next comes the shaping... I usually roll it out, and form it into loaves and put them in a loaf pan. This time, however, I tried shaping them into free form loaves...like the kind you get form a bakery. It seemed to go well.

Now, more rising time...that done, the loaves slip into a hot oven. Once baked, you tip it over, and give it a thump, and hope it is done. I rub butter over the crust, to soften and flavor.

Then your kitchen has that warm, grandmother's-kitchen smell. It's heavenly.... I love baking bread!

What happened?

2011-03-22T18:44:00.000-07:00

Some of you may have noticed that I have been mostly absent from both this blog and from Facebook, for over a week. I finally realized why. I couldn't figure it out, but now know that I was withdrawing, hiding. See, something happened last week that shook the stability of my world. And until I tell about it, I can't seem to function.

My parents' home was broken into a week ago Monday. My father was not home, and my mother was sleeping. She woke up hearing noise, and believing it was my father, called out. Getting no answer beyond more noise, she struggled to wake up. When she got up, she found the house empty, now, but a mess. The front door was damaged, and the frame destroyed. Drawers were pulled out, dumped out, pawed through...including the dressers in the very room my mother had been sleeping in.

Only some jewelry was taken, but the damage far exceeds the physical loss. There is the primary loss of a sense of safety.

I now find myself worrying about my parents in a way that I never have before. I have to resist the urge to call, every day. I find myself praying for them a lot more...yes, that's a good thing. I check the door locks at least twice before I go to bed. Sometimes more.

So, that's it. The reason I have been absent for over a week. This event, and the aftermath, has permeated my every moment, my every thought...and if you'll excuse me, I need to go check the locks again.

Just what is Pocket Stew?

2011-03-15T17:38:00.000-07:00

About a week ago, I mentioned on Facebook that I was making Pocket Stew for dinner. I got asked by several people (on FB and via phone) just what it was. So, I'll explain. When I was a kid, I was in the Girl Scouts. During a campout, we made these nifty foil dinners that were cooked in the coals of a fire. I told my mom about them when I got home, and she figured out how to make them in the oven. When I had kids, I made these for them...actually, I'd let them assemble them-thus even picky eaters would be happy.

Pocket Stew:

Ingredients (approximate):

1 pd lean hamburger (or ground chicken)
1 onion, sliced
3 potatoes, peeled, and sliced thin
3-4 carrots, peeled and sliced thin

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. On two cookie sheets, lay out a length of foil for each family member. Lightly grease the middle of the foil (cooking spray, or margarine). Lay some onion on each. Divide hamburger, and form into patties. Put patty on onion. Put slices of potato on top of hamburger patty & onion, in center of rectangle. Sprinkle some carrot on top. Season with salt & pepper.

Fold top of foil, lengthwise, two times. Crimp edges. Place 2 packages on each cookie sheet. Bake for 30-40 minutes. To check for doneness, carefully open one package (watch out for steam).

Grammommy Nachos

2011-03-13T13:34:00.000-07:00

This is a recipe that my mother developed, and I latter tweaked. My kids always loved it.

Grammommy Nachos

1 lb ground beef (or ground chicken)
1 pkg taco seasoning
1 cup chunky salsa
12 fajita sized flour tortillas
1 cup shredded cheddar
1 cup shredded mozzarella

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Brown meat; drain (I like to rinse it too). Stir in taco seasoning mix and salsa. Cook until hot. IN a bowl, mix cheeses together. Lay flour tortillas on a cookie sheet (as many as will fit). Spoon taco mixture onto each tortilla. Sprinkle some cheese on top. Bake in oven until cheese is melted and tortilla is toasted.

Yum!

Passing the rock, yet again....

2011-03-08T19:16:00.000-08:00

Some days it feels like life is on a treadmill. Or in a chase scene from an old Western. The same things keep happening over and over and over...much like watching the Lone Ranger passing by the same clump of trees and that same gray rock over and over again.

Dishes get dirty. They get washed, put away. Step away from the sink, and a minute later, there's a sinkful of the same dishes again. Get that piece of molding fixed, and then find another repair needing attention. Get home from a grocery shopping expedition, get everything put away, only to discover you are out of sugar. It never seems to end.

Where am I going with this post? Honestly, I am not really sure. (hence, the name 'random musings') I have a habit of writing myself out of moods. I think I am trying to do that here.

So....I guess all I can do, when I find myself on the treadmill, and passing that same clump of trees, yet again, is to try to find the beauty of the moment, wherever I can. I have a long standing habit of trying to appreciate things, to not take things for granted. I am thankful every day as I walk into my workplace that I have a job that I enjoy. I am thankful each time I get into my wee little car, and hear that engine start right up. I am thankful that I live in a beautiful apartment, where maintenance handles the repairs. I am thankful that I have three wonderful children, that even if I don't see them every day (or every week even), I do get phone calls, texts and emails.

So tomorrow morning, when I drive through the predicted ice storm, I will try to appreciate how the street lights make the icicles glisten.

Wait, better attitude. I will look for random moments of beauty, a kind word spoken to me, the first glorious scent of my morning tea, the friendly guard who always opens the door at work, the sun shining sometime midday. I will wait, and watch. There..now I feel mostly better.

Cartoons

2011-03-06T13:24:00.000-08:00

I remember when Saturday morning meant something really special. My sister & I would pad downstairs in our footed pajamas, my brother sleepily following, hurrying to the television (the only one in the house back then). I'd manually click on the set, manually spin the dial to one of the four stations (CBS, ABC, NBC and PBS). And there they would be. The joy of a Saturday morning. Cartoons.

There were the standards, of course: Bugs Bunny. Wil E. Coyote. Tom&Jerry (ick). But the ones I loved the most were more sci fantasy oriented: Johnny Swift. Thundar the Barbarian. SuperFriends. Justice League of America. All those superheros..... My sister and I would sit, far too close to the tv until my mom would come tell us to move...we'd sit and watch the cartoons, totally engrossed, for hours.... only taking a brake to grab a bowl of Qwisp cereal or Captain Crunch. Yum!

We would watch until the morning was over, and the shows were over until the next week. Then we'd get changed, and go outside to play.

But the magic was there...and cartoons were special. I think that they were more cherished because they only came once a week. Rarity increases the value. Sometimes I miss those mornings.....

Life Intervenes

2011-03-01T17:34:00.000-08:00

To those faithful few who read my blog, you might wonder, where have I been this past month? I've had a few computer glitches, cured several times via advice over the phone or in person by my computer smart sons, or by my daughter who figured out which buttons to mash. My beloved puter seems to be working smoothly now, so I'm back.

This bump into the daily routine of life got me thinking about other life bumps. Those random things that seemingly just happen to us. They push us off the course to which we'd planned.

Take my recent days without home computer access. Instead of being on Facebook, or reading Stone Soup (my favorite comic), instead I read several books, did some organizing, talked to friends on the phone, and did some mending. That might not sound as much fun as gabbing on Facebook, but it gave me more time to talk to my parents, and made a difference in my house. Not to mention the extra reading time!

Then there was my recent experience at the main hospital. I am legendary for my ability to get lost. I was headed down from the 9th floor and looking for the South elevators, and got a wee bit turned around. Well, I stopped by this one window, and saw the city from that lofty view. For an industrial city, there was so much green! I never realized that there were so many trees around here. It was so beautiful.

Then there was last Thursday. I drove off to work, in the morning sunlight, thinking about how the day would be a pretty good one. I figured on a good day at work, then had plans afterwards. Instead of this course of events, I got a call mid-morning that changed my entire day. Instead of my plans, I spent the rest of the day in the ER with my daughter, then the subsequent 2 days back and forth between home and her hospital room. (She is fine..had appendix removed.) The good part of all this, beside her renewed health, is that I had several good conversations with her, mother/daughter time. Also, I was warmed by my sons' response. I got texts from one son asking about his sister's condition, and the other showed up suddenly at her bedside. Several good friends visited, and one of our pastors showed up in pre-op in time to pray over her beforehand.

Between the visits, the texts, and the phone calls, I was reminded about how interconnected we are. The outpouring of concern and love for my family was warming,and something I'll hold onto.

So, sometimes the bumps in life can bring good things....or at least interesting interludes.

Cheater Cookies

2011-02-03T15:10:00.000-08:00

Need something for a company potluck at the last possible minute? Are your teenagers' friends hunting through the cupboard for snacks? Do you just not feel like taking the time to measure out a bunch of ingredients? Then this is the recipe for you... the very first cookie recipe I learned to make as a kid....

The proper name would be Cake Mix Cookies, but it's always felt like cheating to make them, so I call them cheater cookies.

Ingredients:
one cake mix

1/2 cup oil

2 eggs

optional: chocolate chips

Heat oven to 350. Mix cake mix, oil and eggs until blended. Stir in choc chips (if using). Drop by small scoop (or walnut size) onto ungreased or parchment paper lined cookie sheets. Bake for 8-9 minutes. Let sit on pan for about 4 minutes, then move to wire rack to cool.

This is great when using a yellow or chocolate cake mix with chocolate chips. Today I simply used a 'rainbow chip' cake mix. Simple, and they disappear fast.

Church Potlucks

2011-01-30T18:10:00.000-08:00

Church potlucks have always had a special place in my heart, or should I say, stomach. I never truly appreciated them until I was in college. Then, anything homemade was wonderful, and a church potluck was nirvana.

Potlucks feature several tables filled with steaming pans and crockpots of food, and pretty bowls of a variety of salads, including my favorite...jello fluff. You stand at the beginning of the line, pick up your paper napkin, wrap it around your plastic silverware and stuff them in your pocket. Then you pick up your stryofoam plate, and begin your perusal.

Some things are obvious, like fried chicken, or meatloaf...but most are casseroles. You kind of poke at them, trying to figure out their contents. Then if it looks good, you have to make a decision. Do I take a chance and take a full scoop, or just a dab. But if I take a dab, and like it, and come back, it'll probably be gone. Hmm....

Going through a church potluck as a vegetarian provides even more challenges, as in, is there meat in this dish? I took a big scoop of what looked like veggie lasagna today, but ended up picking out chicken from it. (still tasty, once the chicken was gone). Normally, I can be sure of getting some protein via the inevitable baked beans, but today, there was none. *sigh*

Then you sit at your table, trying to separate individual dishes from the mishmash of stuff on your plate. Some things are interpretable, but sometimes taste good together anyways. Then there are the desserts. If I haven't satisfied my sweet tooth with jello fluff, then I hit the desserts. Today there was this awesome...thing. I don't know what it was...but there was a jello/pudding stuff in between cookies that had chess pieces on it. It was fabulous...but no idea what it was or who made it.

The best part is actually not the food. The best part of a church potluck is sitting with friends at long tables, munching on unidentifiable food, and talking and joking. Today I ended up sitting across from several kids, but still had pretty interesting conversations...and they got me laughing.

So, despite the lack of baked beans (and jello fluff...sigh), it was a great potluck today. And I left with an empty pan...(meatloaf went over well...even if my sons wrote 'eww' 'yuck' on the recipe years ago).

Music

2011-01-25T18:18:00.000-08:00

Music permeates my life. It touches each and every part. From the moment my radio alarm goes off, shocking me awake to a tune, to the music that sustains me through the work day due to an MP3 player I don't even understand, to the theme song on my favorite TV show in the evening...there is music throughout my day. (the most shocking wake up song ever was in junior high when I awoke violently awake to the scream of "Freak Out!")

I met my best friend through choir in high school. Connie and I would keep each other on tune while we sang together in Girl's Glee. She always covered for me during that song with the rolled 'r's that I could never do. I stayed in choirs through high school, one in college (as well as piano lessons and hand bells). I absolutely loved practicing my piano homework on the harpsichords in the college chapel.

At my church, music is one of the most enjoyable parts of the worship service. Thanks to a great trio of song leaders, I can sometimes pick out the alto parts...and when the music and singing comes together, it feels like flying to me. I have sung solos there twice. The first time I was nervous, the second terrified.... I have both a 'Bucket List', and a "Twenty Wishes' list (inspired by a Debbie Macomber book by the same name.) On the latter list, number 14 is Sing a Solo with Confidence. (there is no order to the list). I hope to fulfill this wish sometime in the next year (or two).

Music even influenced my naming of my daughter. OK...here's the story. My favorite author is Anne McCaffrey. She created a character in my favorite series, Dragon Riders of Pern, who is a Harper, a teacher/arbitrator girl. Her name is Menolly. I couldn't figure out how to pronounce it, so I always read it as Melody. It fit. So, when I found out I was having a daughter, I decided to name her after this musical girl, thus Melody (for those who don't know, it's Cat's first name).

Music is still an important part of my life. There is always music running in the back of my mind. My children know this, and have occasionally tormented my by calling me at work, and playing 'Banana Phone' or the "Hamster Dance", just to wedge that into my head....a sure way to insanity, I tell you. I love many varieties of music... Josh Groban, bagpipes (esp Galiec Storm & Tartanic), classical (esp Pacabel's Canon, played on a harpsichord), Air Supply, Barry White, Pat Benetar, Newsboys, Third Day, and stuff I hear on 105.5 (though I'm terrible with song or artist names). I love music...and it's part of every moment of my life.

candalabras as an investigative tool

2011-01-22T20:09:00.000-08:00

Here I sit, wondering what to write for tonight's blog...and while I'm wondering, I am also watching some old black & white movie on my wee little bedroom TV. It's about a brother and sister who buy this out of the way house. I think it's set in the fortys, because of the beautiful hair styles, and the shirt dresses the women wear. Anyways, the house seems to be haunted. And what does our hero and heroine do when they hear a mysterious weeping coming from downstairs? They light candles, and carry them in those silver holders, and go investigate.

That makes me think of every old time monster movie I have seen. The heroine always wears a willowy white nightgown. And when she hears a bump in the night, she puts on a diaphanous robe, grabs up a lit candalabra, and heads out to investigate. Me, personally, if I was asleep in such a situation, I'd take a moment, put on some pants (even if it was the fortys, I could grab my brother's pants, surely), and grab the poker from fireplace, then with a friend or two, I'd head out to bash whatever made the 'bump'.

As I once read in a comic, 'women in willowly white nightgowns, who go outside with a candalabra, to investigate bumps in the night...deserve what they get'. I agree. Off to consider watching some more... nah... instead I'll turn to Enchanted, and watch people randomly breaking into song. But that's another blog...

Oh, the possibilities....

2011-01-18T18:16:00.000-08:00

Some days, when the stress level of daily living begins to get to me, my mind drifts back to my childhood. I spent most of my day actively living in and with my imagination. Anything was possible then.

I would have adventures on my purple two wheeler. My sister and I would ride on the sidewalk (we weren't allowed to ride in the street-too young), making 'dinka-dinka' sounds when we would turn around to go back the other way. ('dinka-dinka' is the sound of the turn signal in my parents' grassy green Duster car). We might be cops in pursuit, or Indians riding our trusty steeds, or flying on our sonic spaceships...the skies were ours!

I played a game called 'Statues' with neighborhood kids... we'd spin madly about, until the main player called stop! Then we'd freeze into whatever position we were in at that exact moment. Then the 'seller' would go through his/her gallery of statues, and explain and sell them to the potential seller. It was fun, and very imaginative.

My favorite game was superheros. I remember pretending to be Catwoman (Julie Newmar one, of course), and standing next to a kid pretending to be Penguin...about to run, being chased by about a dozen superheros.

I remember one night, my parents let me stay after dark, in the second lot across the street for a while. I played a superhero there too, having adventures of my own making, and diving for the shadows whenever a car would venture by...

Thinking back, I realize that I don't want to go back to my childhood. What I really want to do is to go back to that ultimate feeling of infinite possibilities.

Random Thoughts

2011-01-11T18:35:00.000-08:00

Today my mind is all over the place. I tried to read a magazine today and couldn't get through an entire article. (Got two Women's Day and a new Writer's Digest all today). What was I talking about? Oh, right...my thoughts are all over the place. So, today, this will totally be random thoughts.

My daughter is currently sitting on my bed, watching Disney Channel (me too), eating Doritos that taste like meat... cheeseburgers. Weird... the chips, not the girl. :)

I'm in the mood to do some sewing..but can't seem to get around to sitting down to do something I enjoy. I like to make doll quilts. Weird, eh? I've made them for every young female relative I have. It's fun to do patchwork and quilting in miniature. I have the material laid out for it... but... maybe this weekend. The days seem to rush by...it's morning, I'm eating breakfast, then I'm at work, then home doing chores... making dinner..then bed then start over again. *sigh*

Do I like jelly beans and Crunchie bars so much because they are truly delicious, or because they are harder to find here? (jelly beans hard to find cept near Easter, and Crunchies only sold in Canada and Europe). I wonder.....

Why do some people find so much fault with me being veg something to argue about?

Well, that's about it for tonight..hopefully I'll be more clear minded and coherent next time!

Moving Slowly

2011-01-08T21:03:00.000-08:00

I try very hard not to take anything for granted in my life. I prefer forethought to hindsight, despite how clear the latter can be. But I realize now that I have taken simple movement for granted. On New Year's Day, at 10:02pm, I broke my toe. The one next to my baby toe on my right foot...and her two nearby friends are also fairly bruised up. How do I know the exact time? I was running through a darkened apartment, in a hurry to answer the ringing phone. I forgot about the metal bed frame I had laid on my bedroom floor. I ran into the bedframe at a run. Pain radiated up my leg, but I managed to calmly answer the phone. It was a wrong number.

The following day I went to Urgent Care, and found I had indeed broken a toe. For the past week, I have been learning what life is like for those who are not easily mobile. Even now, when I am off the crutches, every movement on my feet has to be preplanned. Too long on my feet, and it hurts, or worse, it goes numb. I've spent a great deal of time sitting in a chair with my feet on a leather ottoman.

Take today. I had to do my bi-weekly grocery shopping first thing in the morning, because there was no way I could handle walking around Krogers after a full day at the office. Going down the stairs to do laundry is an exercise in logistics. And it made me miss out on my weekly session in the nursery....

Now I plan out my movements. I know I have limited time on my feet, so I try to combine errands, tasks. And I remember fondly about simply jumping up and running somewhere. Anywhere.

I will never take free movement for granted again.

Storytelling

2011-01-04T19:15:00.000-08:00

I have always loved to read books. I love to watch a good television show, or a well put together movie. I have also loved to sit and listen to people talk. All of these things have one thing in common-stories. I love to listen to stories. The best kind are the true to life.

I grew up listening to my father tell stories of his childhood, of growing up as a kid during a war. He told of his father raising rabbits for the war effort, and about his ma's love of boats. I've listened to my (great) Uncle Paul tell about how he and his brothers (including my grampa) got into trouble-from hopping trains to fights. I've listened to my pastor's mother talk about when Tommy was a little boy. I love to listen to my children retell stories of happy events in their lives. I've even talked to relative strangers, while sitting in the comfy green chairs at Barnes & Noble, and heard their stories of living, and learning, and working.

I truly enjoy listening to people tell their stories. And listening to a person tell a story is better than reading even, because you see their memories play out in their eyes, and see the emotion of their hearts. I can think of no better way to learn about people than to sit with them and listen to their stories.

Won't you tell me your stories?

1-1-11

2011-01-01T18:23:00.000-08:00

Today is the first day of the first month of the eleventh year of this century...in other words, 1-1-11. What is about the first of anything that is so daunting? Somehow the beginning of something is always so intimidating. Simply starting a thing is the hardest part. There is a quote I've heard, 'All journeys begin with a single step.' I am a queen of procrastination. Getting started on something is my biggest hurdle, that which keeps me from achieving my goals, my dreams. Even little things...I waited until the day before my sister visited to try the patchwork cover for a composition book. Yes, I ran into a few difficulties, mainly with underestimating what seam allowance to use, but it still came out beautifully. I procrastinated at trying the puppy chow (people chow?) recipe with the substitution of the peanut butter with nutella, as I was headed to a peanut free gathering. I made the batch less than 2 hours before I had to leave.

Why do I do this? Why do I procrastinate? Because taking the first step, the first action, is so scary. I have a big problem with fear. Fear of conflict, fear of difficulty, fear of anxiety. So, I tend to avoid situations that begat those fears....thus, procrastination.

While I don't know how to overcome fear, and procrastination, I do know that recognising the problem is the first step in overcoming it. As I used to hear on the G.I. Joe cartoons when I was a teen 'knowing is half the battle.' So, now I know what the trouble is, and can work to combat it. If I can take that first step.

And to hold myself accountable, here are my Five New Year Resolutions:
1. Eliminate debt by the end of the year (except for that incurred by #2)
2. Purchase reliable vehicle-preferably red
3. Finish and completely revise On a Moonless Night (a book I nearly finished writing during Nanowrimo)
4. Learn 200 signs (sign language)
5. Walk a million steps

Odd Meal of Oddness

2010-12-26T10:50:00.000-08:00

I don't know why, maybe it's just being moody, family discord, or because of the overcast week we'd had, but I really rebelled against the idea of making an ordinary, just the same as I do every year, Christmas dinner. Every year since childhood I've had pretty much the same menu: baked ham, homemade scalloped potatoes, corn, and some type of bread. I do absolutely love homemade scalloped potatoes, especially the edges where it gets brown and crispy.... but I just didn't want to do it this year.

So, I talked to my daughter, then got on Facebook and asked advice. One person said to just make everyone's favorites. Others said it was okay to do something really different. I talked to the three that would be around my table. Cat wanted cranberry sauce served directly from the can with a spoon. Bob simply wanted meat (as I'm a veg, it's a valid request). Lauryn wanted candied sweet potatoes. I wanted pan fried mac&cheese. So...taking all this into mind, I planned out the menu.

I made homemade mac&cheese, and put it into a parchment paper lined loaf pan. Just before dinner, I sliced it and pan fried it in a wee bit of margarine.

Christmas 2010 menu: pan fried mac&cheese, frozen pizza (baked), candied sweet potatoes, hard salami, muenster&colby cheese, rolls, cranberry sauce-served directly from the can, taquitos, and condiments. It was eclectic and fun and quite delicious. Everyone was happy, and well fed. And best of all, I enjoyed the time spent with my family, laughing over the weird meal. Cat dubbed it the Odd Meal of Oddness.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Rediscovering Joy

2010-12-14T17:47:00.000-08:00

I've been working my way out of the valley of sadness, thrown into further shadow by the inherent lack of light recently. Slowly, I've been edging my way out inch by inch. I still have a foot in the shadow, but am out of the valley, looking all around for the sun. All I see is the icy clouds hiding it...for now.

I decided to be proactive, and help seek happiness myself, instead of blatantly sitting around waiting for it to show up. So, I made a list of things that make me happy, that I could do soon. Included in that list are: picking up new books at the library, crocheting while talking to a friend, braiding a denim rug for my bedroom, working on the last chapters of my story, mint chocolate chip ice cream, jelly beans, getting to spend some time with my best friend Connie-in person, going to see a movie, sewing for fun, and listening to my father tell stories.

By focusing on these things, and by trying to do as many as I can, it's helped me start climbing out of the darkness and towards the light. Now if only I could find jelly beans.... ah, well. Instead, I'll venture out to the library soon, and call up Connie and crochet whilst kibitzing with her.

Imaginary Friends

2010-12-11T19:53:00.000-08:00

Tonight I've been watching this movie about a woman who meets her childhood imaginary friend. He's a guy, also an adult now, named Michael. Not a bad movie, not great, but best thing on TV right now. It got me thinking about imaginary friends. Now I was an unusual child. I was never like anyone else.

Other people had imaginary playmates that were little girls, like them. Me, I had an imaginary horse. I hid him in my bedroom, and he only came out when we were alone. I fed him, and brushed him, and put big bright red bows on his tail. He was about the size of a small Shetland pony, though I'd never seen a horse in
'person' before. He had a dark brown coat, and a pure white mane. We had many adventures together, but he mostly just slept in a stable next to my bed. He kept me company on long dark nights. I loved that horse, and told him everything, my thoughts, my fears, and my dreams.

I remember the day I decided that we needed to part ways. It was by mutual agreement. I was getting older, and taking care of him was getting difficult. He wanted to go run in green pastures filled with white daisies in the sunshine. So one night, after we'd had a long chat, and said our goodbyes. I gave him a good brush down, tied on a big red bow, and sent him to live with the fairies in the wall.

My Grampa

2010-12-07T17:42:00.000-08:00

This time of year always reminds me of my Grampa, my father's dad. I think of him in part because the 19th was his birthday. He was born December 19th, 1904. Wow. He served as a Marine sometime before World War 2, then raised rabbits as part of the war effort. My dad was a little boy back then. My father has told me countless stories about his childhood, and his father. As many times as he's told the stories, I still enjoy hearing them.

For me, my Grampa was a cool guy who my father would take my sister, brother and I to see every weekend. I always took Sooner, a tiny dog who I never knew what breed she was, for a quick walk up and down the block. When I'd come in, my dad would be talking to Grampa, and my siblings would be watching wrestling, something we weren't allowed to watch at home (yay Bulldog Kent and the Sheik). Every year at Christmas time, he would hang a candy cane on the lamp beside his sofa. That candy cane would become part of the collection of canes that hung there year round.

I remember the plain white paper bags he would give my siblings and I for Christmas, filled with candy, nuts and shiny change. Loved it! And I remember one year he made cheesecakes, festooned with sprinkles used to make a design. He was so creative!

When I was in 9th grade, I was feeling really sick at school, but they wouldn't let me walk home without them speaking to a relative first. Well, both my parents were at work, so I called my Grampa. He okayed my going home. When I got there, he called to check on me. He also gave me his recipe for a tea to make me feel better: hot tea with a generous dollop of honey and a half a shot of whiskey. Well, I did the tea with honey only, obviously. Still he was really there for me.

My Grampa and my Aunt Alise (my maternal grandmother's twin) are the two relatives that meant the most to me growing up. They were my extended family. I still have my Aunt Alise (who always speaks her mind, which I love about her, and who claims to be 39 still. So cool.) But I lost my Grampa in May of 86. Every year on December 19th, I think of him even more. I miss you Grampa.

I'm going to go hang a candy cane on my lamp, in honor of my Grampa.

Happy Thoughts

2010-11-30T18:02:00.000-08:00

I had a terrible day today, the kind that makes Murphy Monday's pale in fear. I guess it was a tumultuous, terrifying, tear-causing Tuesday. But instead of regaling everyone with my list of woes, I decided to turn my mind to more positive things....even if I have to really work hard in order to do so.

So here are a few of the thoughts and memories that make me happy....

Listening to my dad telling a story from his childhood, even when I've heard it before. Watching my sons, when they were little, make things out of legos that shouldn't be possible-they made hinges out of lego people legs, and made things that transformed. Seeing my daughter, pencil in hand, intently working on a drawing-she has such exuberant talent. A hot, bubbly pineapple pizza with sesame seed crust. Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream. A brand new, previously unread, just came out book-from Anne McCaffrey or J.D. Robb. Watching the sunrise over desert hills.

Saturday mornings. Every Saturday morning is my own private holiday. And I get 52 of them every year!

The feeling I get just after shopping day, when everything is put away... pringles & cottage cheese. Getting to just sit and talk to my best friend Connie, in person, for hours. The way we used to ride our bikes together during summers. Hugging James Doohan. That dinner with all my kids, my parents, my Aunt Alise and my grandmother. Finally finding a cool pair of brown boots.

The Christmas when my sons stared with amazement when they opened a Playstation, and started screaming. The same day, seeing my daughter cry when she got the American Girl Doll she'd wanted. And seeing the same girl many year's later, so happy when Chi~ arrived.

And finally, the peace I always feel when sitting beside a body of water... a river, lake, ocean. And the feeling of home I felt when I walked into FMC the first time. And the exubarent feeling of Winning Nanowrimo this year!

There, now I feel happier.

Rant about Christmas

2010-11-20T08:34:00.000-08:00

I was talking to a friend recently, and she was telling me about how a family member of hers thinks that they should forgo buying each other Christmas presents, and instead spend the requisite several hundred dollars on her preferred charity. Even when my friend explained that she couldn't do this, her sister wouldn't listen. Truth is, this friend's entire Christmas budget may only be about $100, for her entire family.

So many times I have sat in the break room at work, and listened to others talk about the gifts people are getting their kids... Ipods, new cell phones (the latest ones), expensive coats, and so on. These same people have houses 'up north' too, where some of them go to celebrate the season.

Then there are the people I know, and hang out with. People who use their skills in the kitchen, with the sewing machine, and knitting needles in order to produce gifts for loved ones. People who cannot spend $200 on a single gift for one child.

Funny thing is, those kids who receive the homemade gifts or simpler gifts, seem to still appreciate them and remember them months later... and those with the nifty ipods or cell phones have broken those and are asking for new, better ones.

That is my rant. Thanks for listening.

Year of Changes

2010-11-16T16:00:00.001-08:00

This has been a year of changes for me. I became a vegetarian (lacto ovarian), moved to an apartment in a different city, broke a 45 year nail biting habit, and became active in a writing group. I've decided to take various areas of my life more seriously, especially the writing.

I'm currently writing a book. I'm part of NaNoWriMo (see previous post) and thus far, I have written nearly 23K words-the goal is 50K by November 30th. Because of this experience, I've hooked up with a local writing group. During November, we meet twice a week for write ins and often online. It's such a blessing to be in a supportive community of writers!

Now onto the next change/challenge--finding a 'new' used car...

Facing your fears

2010-11-02T18:22:00.000-07:00

Today I fully planned on blogging about my adventure in Nanowrimo land, but something came up, hit me dead in the face, and demanded attention. So, I'm sharing it here, in the hopes that despite any embarrassment on my part, it might help someone else out there in cyberland.

This morning I woke up and my first thoughts were thoughts of anxiety. Naturally, I hit the snooze button, reset the alarm, and hit the snooze again. A while later, reality intruded again, and I had to get up, and face the day.

On the drive to work, my worries were forefront in my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about the two things that worried me the most. At work, I finally realized that these two anxieties were simply not going to go away. Being at work, there wasn't much I could actively do about them, but I did realize that action was what I needed. Instead of trying to ignore the troubles, bury them beneath daily work & life wasn't working.

Therefore, I made a phone call on the one (about finding a 'new' car), and sent an explanatory email on the other (church library printer issues). The relief was nearly immediate.

There is something so freeing about tackling your fears head on, doing something, anything about them. There is the barest hint of coming peace. The knots that took up permanent residence in my stomach loosened and dissolved, leaving only a memory.

The problems are still there-but I feel better. I am handling my fears instead of my fears handling me.

Halloween Memories

2010-10-30T09:56:00.000-07:00

Halloween is so different as an adult. Now it means hayrides, and decorating my desk at work. But I remember a different time, when Halloween was exciting, It was a time to dress up as my favorite comic book character, or that superhero from Saturday morning TV. I'd start bugging my mom about getting or making me a costume as soon as October began. I would get my brother & sister into the act too, asking and asking and asking. Then the day would come. We'd go to Woolworth's or Kreskes, and search the aisles for those magical boxed costumes. The plastic face masks were in the front of the package, and for all the world they seemed real to me. I truly believed that if I put on that Wonder Woman costume, that I WAS Wonder Woman. Bring on the invisible plane! Of course, in reality, wearing those plastic one-size-fit-all (not) costumes, and that plastic face mask, all over winter coats and jeans, actually made for bulky looking superheros!

Put I'd happily put it on, and trying to breathe through the tiny holes, and ignoring how the elastic pinched my hair, and head out to trick or treat. My dad always took us three kids...my self, and my younger sister & brother. We would clutch our plastic orange pumpkins, and head down our street in the near dark. I could see my breath misting up as I breathed through my mask. My brother was dressed as a clown, and my sister as Snow White, but with her mask on top of her head. With my dad trailing behind, keeping step with my brother, my sister & I would run up to the next house that had a porch light on, and sing out, "Trick or Treat! Trick or Treat!"...and the door would open, and reaching through the open top half of a screen door, the kind woman would drop candy into our pumpkins. We always said 'thank you', as we were taught, even if it was something we didn't like. Then on to the next house.

I loved the house that gave actual full sized candy bars! And though we knew he only gave out shiny apples, we always went to the old man's old house around the corner. Then we'd wait until my dad & brother caught up with us, and away we went again.

My all time favorite costume was the Catwoman costume my mother sewed for me. In reality, it was just a one piece black outfit, with a tail sewn on, and cat ears, but I felt like Catwoman in it (Julie Newmar, not Eartha Kitt). Though time and time again, I had to explain to kind candy-giver-outers that I wasn't not a cat, but indeed Catwoman, it didn't dissuade that feeling. Though there was this really nice woman who said 'what a nice kitty', then proceeded to hand me the biggest candy bar I'd ever seen. I said "meow" and walked on.

When our pumpkins were full, and my siblings too tired or excited to continue, we'd head home, where my mother was dutifully giving out candy. We would sit on the floor, and spill out our spoils. Then the annual ritual began. My father and mother sorting out our candy. The chocolate went into a bowl to go in the fridge, and the other candy into a bowl for the table. We shared all our candy...after my parents had checked it all to be sure it was safe. Then we would get to have some, right then and there. It was a very happy ending for an exciting childhood time.

Hmm...wonder if there'll be any candy at the hayride tonight?

My Love Affair

2010-10-26T09:02:00.001-07:00

I have a love affair with reading. I was reading a book on writing today (Page after Page, by Heather Sellers), and it directed me to look at my daily life, and what I spent the bulk of my non-employment time doing--this activity is what I find important, what I love. For me, it's reading. I read daily, no matter how busy I am. Like a smoker, who finds five minutes several times a day to puff away, I sneak in wee pockets of time in which to read.

I read during lunch, while waiting to pick up my daughter, in the waiting room, while waiting for water to boil, during commercials, in the bathroom sometimes... constantly. Even if I have only five minutes, it's worth it to me. My reading soul is very hungry, and needs constant feeding.

To provide for this need, I have books everywhere. There are some of my favorite paperbacks in my headboard, on both end tables, in the car, on the table, next to my computer. I have three bookcases, and all are pretty much full.

I am a regular at the local library. I go online, request books from other libraries and thus can just walk into the library, show my card, and walk out with books in under 5 minutes. I was very excited when my brother introduced me to Melcat (where I got the two Heather Sellers books-ones I need to buy someday!). My favorite hangout spot is Barnes & Noble. There, whilst sipping a green tea latte or hot carmel smoothie, I carefully read...

When my kids were younger, they understood that they'd be getting at least one book for Christmas, so they might as well give me a list (what is Christmas morning without a book to curl up with and read whilst eating a candy cane?). I confess that one year I even bought myself a book for Christmas! It was from the cats, really.... I'm proud to report that all my children are excellent readers. My daughter took placement tests before beginning college, and tested off the charts in reading comprehension. I was so proud!

I love new books, especially by authors I know. I count down the days until the new Anne or Todd McCaffrey book comes out, and when I purchase it during lunch, it's all I can do to not read it. I kept it in my tote bag, and couldn't help occasionally sneaking a peek, or just patting it lovingly.

I read books concurrently; I always have several books going at the same time. I just finished The Search by Nora Roberts. I am reading both Page After Page and Chapter After Chapter. I'm reading a book by Sara Gilbert, who's title escapes me (no, not Eat, Love, Pray). I am reading a book on organization. And waiting for me to find time for him is A Briefer History of Time. I am listening to a book on cd called One Simple Act. I have two books by Meg Cabot waiting for me at the library right now. And this is normal for me!

I know that next month, as I immerse myself in NaNoWriMo, I'll have less time to read, but still, I'll refresh my mind by the occasional stolen moment to read. For now, I've 13 minutes left on my lunch hour, so I'm off to read some more!

My Bucket List

2010-10-23T05:43:00.000-07:00

My son, Bob, has his Bucket List posted publicly on his website. He did this a few years ago, and when I saw it, it inspired me to create my own Bucket List.... (what's a bucket list? It's a list of things you want to do before you 'kick the bucket'.) I have a copy of this list in several places, where it'll always be there to remind me of my life goals. I have shown this list to a few close friends, but never posted it publicly. After seeing my son's list recently, and what he's crossed off it, I realized I needed to find the courage to do the same. So, here's my list (including subheadings):

My Bucket List:

1. Publish both Fiction & non-Fiction books (pref one on best seller list).
2. Move to beautiful condo or apartment (I've done this one!)
3. Own VW Bug (old or new)
4. Be financially stable (no debts, able to help family & others)
5. Travel: a. Scotland b. Paris c. Alaskan Inner Passage Cruise
6. Learn Languages: a. Sign b. French c. German d. something interesting
7. Learn to play the piano & harpsichord
8. Learn Tai Chi (half finished this one)
9. Be in shape
10. Make a quilt for each of my kids, parents, & Connie

Coming soon!

2010-10-19T16:21:00.000-07:00

The one event I wait all year for is coming soon. The excitement is building. The participants are all abuzz with thoughts & possibilities. Preparations are beginning. Gatherings are being planned. What is this event? Is it the Superbowl, or perhaps Christmas? No...it's almost time for.... *gasp* NaNoWriMo!

NaNoWriMo is National Novel Writing Month. This event is organized and hosted by Chris Baty, author of the companion book, No Plot, No Problem. What is this event? Thousands of writers get together during the month of November, and try to write 50,000 words of an original book. This works out to about 1,667 a day. The emphasis is on quantity, not quality. This is not as crazy as it sounds. I've often heard the quote: "You can't revise a blank page." By giving yourself permission to write badly, just please, write...you turn off that internal editor that nags you to be perfect.

Each day of the event, you write your novel, and post your current total word count on the site, NaNoWriMo.org. When you get to 50,000 words, you submit your novel to have the word count verified. If you meet this goal, you win. The prize is simply the satisfaction of knowing you wrote an entire book in a month.

Last year I tried this, and only made it halfway there. However, as I'd never made it past Chapter One of a book, I counted this as great. Also, I finally found a local writers group, the Red Hot Writers. With the encouragement, and even nagging of this circle of friends, I know this year, I will be a winner!

Home home home

2010-10-17T14:07:00.000-07:00

Every morning, I wake up thinking 'I love my house.' My 'house' in question is actually a pretty, sun-filled bright apartment. I've lived here for just over a month now, and the sparkle, the allure has not faded. I've learned the joys of having someone else handle the repairs. I get to enjoy the near magical autumn color of the falling leaves without a thought to having to rake.

There are minor drawbacks. My kitchen is the size of a galley. No more than three very friendly people can be in it at a time. I have to learn to use an electric stove. The only other drawback is having to do laundry downstairs, and pay for it. But thus far, I have only once had to wait to use the washer. And think of all the exercise I'm getting going up and down the basement stairs....

But my living room is bigger, as is my bedroom. I've a closet that is remarkable. It holds my clothes, a few stored items, and is half filled with my crafts & overflow books (never enough bookcases!). And I have already met many neighbors as I take walks in the complex, or simply sit on my wooden deck, which we often call the porch. My sons treat it as a porch too...then often jump the rail, and knock on the window wall! Such energy. And Cat does it too...

And now I have a 3 minute commute to church (that includes walking out of the building, driving there, and walking into church!), and my drive to work is cut in half.

*sigh* I know I'm going on and on and on... but it is such a relief to be rid of so many of the worries that plagued my life before moving here. I thank God for arranging this move when He did, instead of next spring, as I had planned. And I thank all the friends who helped me move, and/or listened to me make lists, or simply stress.

I realized what this place feels like...it feels like living in a dorm at college was like. Friendly people, no repair worries, and church is close by.

I look forward to having friends over for tea soon!

My obsession

2010-10-12T18:53:00.001-07:00

I've gotten teased about it. I was once challenged to do without it for an entire weekend. My obsession with them has gotten more elaborate. My sister has give me preprinted versions as gifts.

What am I obsessed with? Lists. Typed up on the computer & printed off. Hand written on pretty paper. Scribbled on the sides of my church bulletin. Written on the nifty preprinted ones I've received as gifts.

I think I learned the habit from my father. On the weekend, I'd watch as my father would carefully write out a To Do list on the back of a used envelope (I learned my frugality from him too). Then I'd watch as he crossed off each task as he completed it. Wow.

I make weekly to do lists, with errands & daily tasks listed. At the top are three goals for the week, then a quote (lately all Walt Disney quotes...my favorite: "It's kind of fun to do the impossible."), then the days of the week...with an adjective (today is Tranquil Tuesday)..then the task lists. That's my current format. It may change next week.

When a big event, or a trip is coming up, I make a list for that. My Christmas list is multi paged, full of separate headings (Cookies to bake; presents to make; cards to send; and so on). Then there is my 2 week menu plan and grocery list... and just above this computer screen is a list on a bulletin board titled 'Things to do after move'.

This may truly seem like an obsession, but it makes me happy. There is a satisfying feeling when you cross off or check off a completed task. Ah..... And when I write down something on a list, like 'remember to call my sister', then that thought can stop bouncing around my mind, interfering with my daily work.

I did try to make it a whole weekend without a list, when a friend of my daughter challenged me to do so. It was a wasted weekend. I mostly just sat and read books. Without a list to motivate me, I was useless.

So I'll continue to make my lists, and enjoy checking them off. If people laugh, or don't understand, I'll just pity them, and add 'pray for __' to my list.

Now off to check 'Post on my blog' from my Tuesday task list! Ah......

Fall...my favorite time of year

2010-10-09T17:29:00.000-07:00

Fall is in the air. As a kid I didn't understand that phrase, but now I do. There is a certain crispness to the morning air. The leaves turning golden & red, falling before your eyes, and crunching under your feet. It's just cold enough to require a light jacket as you walk in the early morning, with the rays slowly warming you.

Despite the knowledge that winter is soon approaching, I still love autumn. It's beautiful, crisp, rich scented, and full of fun activities. I love the taste of an apple just picked from the tree. Or sometimes, eaten right on the tree and left to hang there as only a core. (someone close to me used to do that). Hayrides through a field, as the sun goes down.... and cider & roasted marshmallows by a bonfire afterwards. These are some of my fondest memories.

I love to bake apple pies, and watch friends eat slices hot from the oven, sometimes with cold real vanilla ice cream on the side. Right at the end of fall is my favorite holiday...Thanksgiving. It's a time to spend the day before baking...pies (apple & pumpkin), yeast rolls, and cornbread for the best part...cornbread stuffing, just like my mother taught me to make. Then comes the big day. Family gathers from all over, to sit around my table, and spend an hour eating, recalling memories, talking... and listening to my father tell stories. *sigh*

Lately it has been rather warm for October. I went to the gas station today without a jacket on, it was so warm. But the scent of fall is in the air. Apples are ripening. There's a hayride planned for the end of the month with my church friends. I've seen Halloween decorations going up (need to dig mine out of the basement). I've seen a few bare trees already, making interesting silhouettes against the sky, and a lot of colorful leaves. Fall is here.

Traveling Socks

2010-10-05T15:52:00.000-07:00

Ok, I know I gone on and on about my love of tea, and reading and Magical Saturday Mornings (and they are!). But today, I just have to vent about something annoying. Something that quietly and secretly drives me nuts....

Socks.

That oh so necessary piece of clothing necessary to keep your shoes fresh and your feet from sticking to the inner soles. Socks. As a kid I hated them because all I had were knee socks, and they never ever ever stayed up to my knees. They invariably ended up in an ungainly wad at my ankles. Then I'd have to stop, yank them up again, and just sigh as I felt them creep on downward again.

Then I as a young adult I got a clue, and switched to wearing bobby socks, or so called 'scrunch' socks. They worked beautifully. No trouble. Until lately.

Being a professional, I decided to purchase professional looking socks. They are made of thin material, and called trouser socks. Kind of like bobby socks, but fancier looking.

Fancy. Right. They are supremely annoying. Much like the knee socks, these socks seem to have a singular lifelong goal. To see if they can end up in a wad around my toes. I yank them up, begin to walk, and slowly they edge their way down again, this time diving into my shoes! Over and over again, I pull them up, to no avail.

Finally, last night at the Women's Bible Study, as I kept leaning over to sneak my socks back up (and I was sitting!), it occurred to me: buy new socks. So today, I did. Forget the professional ones. Wonder if Goodwill will take them? I got me nice soft scrunchy bobby socks.

Here's hoping they too won't end up bunched up in the toe of my shoes.

On to my new life

2010-10-02T05:49:00.000-07:00

About two years ago, I decided that I was ready to move. The home I lived in, okay, the mobile home I lived in, was getting to be too big for just my daughter & I. I was tired of living in the boondocks (I saw corn fields and llamas on my way to work every day), and I was getting overwhelmed by the cost of constant repairs. A three bedroom home was just too big for me.

Now, don't get me wrong, as my best friend Connie always says. This place was perfect for me back when I had three active elementary school kids who littered the living room floor with Lego's and Barbie doll shoes. (have you ever stepped on a Lego at 3am? *shudder*) When they became teenagers, it was still just right. I had a huge fridge filled with koolaide and apples, and two cookie jars I kept filled with homemade cookies, all available for the constant stream of their teenage friends that were always over.

But all that changed as they grew up. The boys moved out and got their own places. They still came home to visit, but more often it was just a call to request delivery of baked goods. (esp banana bread). The place started to echo with just my daughter Cat & I.

So, I started looking at my options, and after a bit of encouragement (okay, nagging) from a good friend of mine, I started checking out apartments. No repair bills. No paying the kid to mow a lawn. No more shoveling. Woo hoo!

So one day, Cat & I took a tour of this apartment complex. We were amazed at how bright the place was, and how spacious it seemed, despite being smaller than our old place. And we noticed other differences.

"Look, Mom. They have closet doors! And they work!"
"Look, Cat... towel racks! They have actual towel racks!"
"Mom... is that a *gasp* dishwasher?" (Cat, is that a tear in your eye?)
"Oh, wow... look Cat! They have....(dramatic pause)... toilet paper holders! We don't have to use a paint can to hold the roll anymore!" (seriously, we did)

A month later, and after a rainy day of moving...(we moved everything Over the deck rail, through the window wall...in the rain!)... we are here. I am still amazed at the beauty of this place. I enjoy taking almost daily walks. I love sitting on my deck/porch. I have met more neighbors here in just a couple of weeks than I met in the old place in years. I am very happy with my new life here.

And I really don't miss using a paint can for a toilet paper holder.

From above the clouds

2010-08-27T16:50:00.001-07:00

I'm a tall girl, so I've spent most of my life walking into cupboard doors left open, peeking over cubicle walls, and checking out everyone's hair part. Granted, I'm only 5'9", but that's taller than most women. And that's me in flats...

A week ago, I was looking for a pair of low or no heeled, sensible, ordinary, boring black dress shoes, for work. After checking out several stores, and drooling over the nifty boots, I went into this frugal girl's old standby, Payless. There I dutifully searched for boring shoes. Well, I did find them... but... part of the fun of shoe shopping is trying on shoes you never intend to wear, much less buy. So I tried on pumps, clogs, high heeled shoe boots (I wobbled as I stood in them, but they were so cute!). Then I saw them. Wow. A pair of black, harness-strapped, 2 inch heels. I tried them on. No wobble. Cool. I looked at them in the ankle height mirrors... wow.

Since it was buy-1-get-1-half-off, I had to get them. I'm a frugal girl after all.

I wore them to work on Monday. I could certainly see very clearly over those cubicle walls. If anyone had looked up as I passed by, they'd have seen a pair of eyes seemingly resting on the wall. My close friend Sharon, noticed the new shoes, of course, as well as another coworker. But for most of the day it was business as usual. Sort of.

Me, I have to get up countless times to go to the printer, which is located across half the office. So I cruised along, eyes peeping over the walls, feeling very very tall. (Cat calls it 'statuesque'). I started imagining a cheering Philistine army behind me, and a small shepherd boy before me, armed only with a sling and a few smooth stones.

Alternatively, I started feeling like I would turn the corner, and find a town of tiny buildings, and screaming villagers running away as I stomped and crushed my way downtown.

I got funny looks as I giggled my way back and forth from the printer.

Fred & Jacki

2010-08-18T17:09:00.000-07:00

Tonight I want to tell you about two special people that I knew. Their names are Fred & Jacki. Fred very recently went home to be with the Lord, and his wife Jacki. His passing caused me to reflect on the impact they had on my life. Sometimes it seems that it is the quiet people, those who move silently through your life, that have the most influence on you. This couple are prime examples of this fact.

I enjoy talking with people before the church service starts, especially the older people. I've always said, older people have the best stories. Shortly after I joined my church, I met Jacki. She always sat in the foyer, usually in a beam of sunlight (shining through the courtyard window). I started to get to know her there, chatting about the inconsequentials of the day, and about deeper matters. Somehow I found myself telling her about my worries about my youngest child, my daughter, and her struggles with school. Jacki offered to pray for her. She said, "I can't do much, but I can pray." I assured her that praying was a lot. Thereafter, every Sunday, every time I saw her, she would ask about Cat, and how she was doing, both in school, and out. Every week, she said she'd continue to pray for her. And she did. For the final 5 years of school, she prayed every day for Cat. And Cat's grades improved. She began to enjoy school more. I know a lot of that was due to her own hard work, but I also know that it was Jacki's prayers. When Cat graduated, I thanked Jacki for praying my daughter through school. It was a great deal.

Never far from her side was Fred. He would either be talking quietly with others, or just contentedly standing nearby. I saw how he gently saw to Jacki, helping her to the pew, getting her situated. I often saw them holding hands.

One Christmas eve Eve (the night two days prior to Christmas), I was feeling very depressed. I don't even remember why. I headed to the Christmas eve Eve service, alone, and unhappy about it. All of my kids were busy that night, but I decided to attend alone.

I walked into the church, and stood in the narthex watching as entire families sat in pews together. There I stood, feeling so very alone. Then Fred came up to me, and told me to please come sit with him and Jacki. I had to struggle to keep the tears from my eyes. I did sit with them, and they made me feel included, like part of their family. I went home from that service doubly blessed, both by the joyous service itself, and from their kindness. A few days later, I received a homemade Christmas card from the, with their picture on the front.

I still have that card to this day.

These two wonderful people quietly, but significantly impacted my life. I will miss them with all my heart, but know that I will see them again. I know that when I arrive in heaven, they will be waiting there for me. And they'll have new stories to tell me.

A Different Kind of Day

2010-08-14T18:09:00.001-07:00

Today I did something I've never done before..attended a wedding shower. See, this shower was special, as it was for my new daughter... the woman my son Ben is marrying.

To get there, I had to do something I find a bit scary...drive somewhere I've never been. Anyone who knows me knows just how directionally challenged I am. Thankfully, my daughter was the one navigating, so we arrived with only one missed turn.

I've attended many wedding showers, but never one for a child of mine. It felt so different to be the MOM... Anyways, we arrived at this castle (well, it certainly looked like one), and went into the turret where the party was hosted (seriously). The place was absolutely beautiful! And that was before the decorations, flowers, prize baskets and food.

My mom & favorite sister also attended. (Even if I had more than one, Cathie would still be my favorite). The shower began with the playing of three games... the first one was questions about the bride & groom. After that were games all Disney related. After a bit of kibitzing and tapping our personal source of Disney trivia (thank you Cat!), we waited for the results. It's almost embarrassing that all four of us walked out with prize baskets! I picked the one with tea, needless to say.

It was great to meet more of Jessica's family, and friends... and to attend an event that heralds the next step into my son's future.

Tea Time Chicken Salad

2010-08-10T19:07:00.000-07:00

By popular demand, here is my mother's chicken salad recipe that was served at both the Spring Morning Tea, and at the Adoption Shower:

Chicken Salad

Ingredients:
2 cups cooked diced chicken
1 cup chopped celery
1 tb grated onion
1 cup mayo (yes, mayo..the only time I use it)
2 tsp lemon juice
salt & pepper
1/2 cup (or more) seedless grapes, cut in half
1/2 cup slivered almonds

Precook the chicken simply. I just bake about 4 chicken breasts for an hour with just a bit of water in the covered pan. Cool completely.

Mix lemon juice & mayo. Stir in remaining ingredients. Mix thoroughly. Season to taste with salt & pepper.

This is great just on it's own, or as a filling for mini croissants lined with lettuce. Yum!

Where did Summer go?

2010-08-03T16:07:00.000-07:00

A week ago, I was watching television (don't remember if it was Glee or Warehouse 13, but that doesn't matter). As always, the commercials came on. Normally I just ignore them, by either crocheting or reading a book. This time, the subject got my attention.

There I sat, wearing a tank top & Capri's, the central air on, while listening to a Back to School commercial. !! Already? I was speechless (a rarity for me).

Later that week, Cat & I decided to splurge, and go out to dinner. Unable to pick a place, we just told the car to pick. Seriously. I said 'Bug, find us a place to go to dinner'. (Cars always have names, since I saw my first Herbie movie). Well, we found ourselves pulling into Cracker Barrel. We walked in, and the very first display I saw filled with costumes, bats, and pumpkins. Halloween decorations? I was afraid to go deeper into their store section, fearful that I'd find a countdown to Christmas!

This is getting ridiculous!

I'd love to hear from you all, about your out of season sightings!

Personal miracle

2010-08-01T15:31:00.001-07:00

I've got a story to tell you, about how God looks after each of us. I got into my wee little car after work. Put my tote bag in the back seat, set my purse on the passenger seat, and proceeded to buckle in...all before I noticed it. My rearview mirror. Dangling. Attached only by the wire bringing power to the lights.

I sat there thinking, oh, great. I have to pick up Cat from an appointment in less than an hour. How can I handle this? So, I started to pray, and think. I decided to drive to a small auto parts store in town, called Bois Auto Parts. They aren't on the big roads, set in a small plaza, and dimly lit. But, I've always gotten good help there. I pulled into one of the 5 parking spaces, parking next to a Guardian Auto Glass van.

I walked in, passed another customer, and went to the counter. There I explained my problem, and asked both for the stuff to reattach my mirror to the glass, and help doing so. As I explained, 'I'm afraid of gluing my fingers to something'.

The service guy started to show me the adhesive aisle, when another worker came up and said, 'he's already handling it.' He? I walked outside, to find the Guardian Glass guy, sitting in my car, having just scraped off the old glue, and applying the new. He asked me to sit in the car, and make certain the mirror was where I wanted it. After doing so, I offered to pay him, but he refused.

To him it was no big deal, as he did this for a living and had the materials right on hand. But to me, it was a small miracle. And proof that God watches over us. If I'd gone to the new auto parts store on the main drag, or if I'd gotten there 5 minutes later, he wouldn't have been right there. This was God's timing......

2010-08-01T15:29:00.000-07:00

Simplicity

2010-07-24T04:15:00.000-07:00

I was thinking at work earlier this week (I do some of my best thinking whilst my hands are occupied with morning work), about what makes me happy. See, I'm still in the midst of life change. My identity has slowly been changing. There was a time that my name was either 'Mom', or "hey, Ben&Robert's Mom" or "Cat's Mom"....I heard that so regularly that I'd have to check my work badge to figure out my real name...and then only had a 50/50 chance of getting it right. Now my sons are out in the world on their own and doing quite well. Ben is working a great job, engaged to a wonderful woman. Robert is working full time for a local business, dating a sweet girl, and the only person I know who fixes his car with items bought from Home Depot. Cat is still living at home, but it is often more a resting place for her active lifestyle. She's usually off at college, doing odd jobs or out with friends.

That just leaves me, the felines & the plants. I knew I had to take steps before I became some crazy cat lady who propagates plants for amusement (ok, maybe 20 houseplants is a bit much). So I have been adding to my life. I'm off in a few to play with race cars (no kidding).

Back to my thinking at work...I decided to make a list (making lists really does make me happy) of things & activities that make me happy. By doing this I can work towards continuing to build a happy life for myself. Some of the items on my list are: reading, sewing, crocheting, Tai Chi (have had three classes now!), listening to older people tell stories, spending time with friends, talking on the phone with Connie, sitting by the river, quiet moments with my kids, watching Dr Who, Eureka & Warehouse 13, writing fiction, holding babies at church, Farmers Market, making a home, baking cookies, sailing, making doll quilts, singing along with a good song... and that's just what I've come up with since then.

I've realized that what makes me happy are simple things. Guess I'm easy to make happy.

And never discount the joy of a magical Saturday morning!

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny

2010-07-20T17:52:00.000-07:00

When did Barbie get so small? I know it has been years, and I do mean years, since my daughter last played with Barbies. I thought I had a clear memory of Barbie & all her friends. I was mistaken.

Perhaps it's because I've gotten used to the size of a ball-jointed dolls, that she seemed so small. I was asked to sew a couple of Barbie doll outfits for a friend, (a gift for her niece). I got the patterns, and cut the first dress out of a bright yellow fabric with random red squares on it. As I held the skirt piece up, I looked at how small it was, and how incredibly tiny the waist was. Could this really be right? Was the pattern somehow, shrunken? I began to sew it, but doubts assailed my mind. With the dress finished, I held it up. The entire dress (from a retro pattern) was only 5 or 6 inches tall. And the waist.... barely two fingers wide...maybe one.

Doubt heavy in my mind, I tried to think of who had daughters of the Barbie doll playing age. I called and asked a friend from church if her daughter would consider loaning me a standard size Barbie. After receiving the small blond doll at church, I took it home. The dress fit perfectly, and was quite cute too.

Later after making a pair of jeans, which took Cat (my daughter)'s nimble fingers to turn right side out, we both looked at their size with amazement.

We stood Barbie next to Chi (ball-jointed doll) and next to Mollie (an American Girl doll). The comparison was surprising. While was a bit shorter than Mollie (and half her width), they both towered above Barbie.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, as I spent years walking on both stray legos and Barbie's itsy bitsy teeny tiny high heel shoes, as I crossed the living room in the dark.

Morning Market 'Mazing Musings

2010-07-10T09:14:00.001-07:00

This morning was incredible. It started simply, with me sleeping in until nearly 7:30 (for me that's late!), then heading off to the Farmer's Market. My usual shopping buddy had another obligation, so I went alone. So, I arrived there about 20 minutes after they opened. As I walked down the aisle in the outdoor wooden structure, I was amazed by the colors and scent. There was so much available, and at most of it was locally grown & seasonal. OK, really, this is not a running ad for the Farmer's Market.... really. I just really enjoy going there.

One of my earliest memories of doing something with just my dad & I is us going to the farmer's market in Royal Oak. At that time I could have cared less than about the veggies. What I really liked were the mini powdered sugar donuts and orange juice.

At this Farmer's Market, there is a restaurant on the second floor. Normally it's so crowded, I just grab a cinnamon roll for breakfast, but today it was surprisingly available. I grabbed a table, and perused the menu...looking at both the breakfast & lunch menus. I was surprised by the variety available to a vegetarian. Most restaurants seem to be meat-fests (nothing wrong with that, just not good for me). But the choices here... veggie chili, a variety of wraps, 'burgers', and omelets. And tofu had a section to itself. OK, I'm not a big fan of tofu (still seems like meat jello), but I'm warming up to it slowly. Today though, I settled for scrambled eggs, wheat toast and really fresh home fries. I sat sipping my tea (what else?) and watching the morning through the windows.... peaceful.

Anyways, today, today was amazing. I saw things I had to ask what were! I bought yellow zucchini, and baby onions so recently pulled from the ground they still have the roots attached. I also got fresh peas, still in the pods. I even got fresh corn...a locally grown, early maturing variety.

Oh, and I found the apron lady again...she's a really sweet old lady, with wispy hair, and gentle eyes. Her stall is never in the same place so she's always hard to find, but worth it. Her name is Veronica, and she actually had knitting needles nearby. Why was I looking for Veronica? She makes beautiful aprons (and dishcloths, purses, placements, etc). I bought that tulip apron from her before, and today bought a bib apron (it's the one under the veggies.) I had a pleasant time chatting with her.

Then, after filling my basket twice (what else would you shop at a market with than a medium market basket?), I decided to drive through downtown on my way home. Normally, this is a depressing drive, but not this time. Juxtaposed against the abandoned boarded up homes, and the occupied, but with barred windows, were clearly labeled community gardens! Right in the heart of downtown, I saw two separate, well-tended community gardens. What a sign of hope in a bleak landscape. I know it sounds corny (I can see my sons both rolling their eyes), but it filled my heart with hope.

I made blueberry pancakes (with fresh blueberries) for my daughter & her friend for brunch. Tonight I'm cooking up a whole mess of fresh veggies for dinner. The joy of this morning will last far far longer than the fruit & veggies will...

Moving very slowly

2010-07-07T16:27:00.000-07:00

A year or so ago, I took inspiration from my son Robert, and wrote out my 'Bucket List'. Yesterday, I began working on fulfilling one item from that list. #9 Take Tai Chi. Ever since I was a little kid, and first saw it on TV, it fascinated me. Then I lived in California for a couple of years. On a rare vacation, I ended up traveling beside a beach on the coast. There, in the breaking light of morning, I saw a group of older people, all quietly moving in unison, performing Tai Chi. It was hauntingly beautiful, and my resolve to learn it was solidified.

I've searched for a class, and tried books and videos. The books were confusing, and the videos, well, I tended to procrastinate so long I had to return them. As for a class, I have not found one. Until now.

The hospital I work for has a program called McHealthy (yeah, I've heard the jokes). Through it I can use the various gyms owned by the hospital (we are Borg, we own everybody). I can also take a variety of classes, including yoga, zumba, and now Tai Chi. As soon as I saw the class announcement, I called and registered. Turns out I was the first on the roster.

A bit nervous, I headed for my first class yesterday. First, I got lost, as I was on the wrong floor! Finally, I found the class, and waited for others to show up. A half hour later, the class began...and of the half sheet of people who showed up, I was the only one who showed up. (It was the day after a major holiday, might have contributed). Still, the instructor still, well, instructed. She explained the history & benefits of Tai Chi, and then showed me the complete movements. Then we began to break it down. I learned several movements, and that I need to move sssllllloowwweerrrr..... The lesson was enjoyable, and I looked forward until next week.

I couldn't stop smiling...

Fear of Fun

2010-07-03T07:07:00.001-07:00

As I thought about the past month, the month I took a hiatus from Farmville (ok, if you are gasping and feeling week from the thought, just breathe deeply, and clutch your keyboard 'til the sensasation passes), I tried to calculate just how much writing I actually got done. See, the reason for my hiatus (deep breaths) was to finish the book I began during NaNoWriMo. Did I? No. But I am closer...

I am a champion, gold medalist procrastinator. For some odd reason, I put off things I enjoy if they take any effort to begin. Now reading is simple... you sit down, open the book (I have books in at least 4 handy places) and begin. Ahh... But for writing, you have to turn on the puter, open the word doc, find where you left off, and then begin. Same with sewing. You have to move the clutter from the craft table, find the supplies, get them ready...you get the idea.

So no, I didn't get much done on the book. However, I did craft an article, the longest I've written, and submitted it to the Guideposts Annual Writing Contest. And I did write a chapter or two for the book. So, I am encouraged. And even today... as the last batch of cookies cooled (choc chip & snickerdoodles), I made myself sit down, and begin this...

So I think with some serious discipline, and self permission to put forth the effort to have fun (and a lack of new books to read), I'll work harder this month. And still find time Afterwards, to do a wee bit of farming. (feel better now?)

Sweating with the 'Oldies'

2010-06-16T17:47:00.000-07:00

About three weeks ago, I walked into a gyms. My workplace is offering this incredible program, called 'McHealthy'. By signing up for it (it's free!!), I have access to the various gyms owned by the hospital I work for, including the cardiac rehab & physical therapy gyms. I chose the small one in the city I live in.

So, with much trepidation, I walked into the gym, a tote bag at my side. After changing into sweat pants and a tank top, I tentatively looked around, trying to get a sense of the place. What I saw were over a dozen odd looking machines, ones I could not discern how to use, or what their purpose could possibly be. It felt like walking into a sweaty modern art display!

Finally, I discovered a smaller room, with a few treadmills, stationary bikes, one elliptical machine and some sit down stepper things. Okay, this I could understand. I stepped onto the treadmill, and found myself faced with a display console that looked like it belonged on the Enterprise. Where's the on button? What's this? Cardio program? It wants my weight? Why?

"Just push the start button, honey." I look over at the treadmill next to me, and saw Shirley, a sweet, petite, older lady, dressed in Capri's and a pretty top. She was walking on the treadmill, a book propped open on the console. So that's what those nubby things sticking up on the bottom of the console are for. A book holder!

So I follow her advice, and hit the start button. On the display it says '3...2...1..' and I'm off. The treadmill starts moving at a gentle pace. I look over at Shirley. She has hers up to 3.2. She explains to me how to up the speed on mine. So I do, to 3.2. Not a good idea.

While for Shirley, who has got to be 25 or more years older than me, that's a gentle stroll, easy to talk to a befuddled newcomer, or to read her novel, while swinging her arms as she walks... but for me, I'm clinging to the handles, desperately trying to reach the buttons! I finally find the pace that's right for me, today. A number much lower than the octogenarian beside me. I walk for 15 minutes (I know this, cause the display tells me so). And I'm done... I have to turn the machine off, and head off to try the stepper thingy. While Connie, another let's say, older person, explains that machine to me, I watch in astonishment, as Shirley keeps on going, not even breaking a sweat!

I have since returned, and now my speed and time on that treadmill are longer and faster...but I still have a long way to go before I can match Shirley!

Procrastination

2010-06-13T15:21:00.000-07:00

I sit here with absolutely no idea of what to write on my blog today....and since according to my lists (you know how I feel about those) I should have done this yesterday, I decided to just sit down, BICHOK (butt in chair hands on keyboard), and just see what comes out of the ends of my fingers. This will defiantly be 'random musings'.

This has been a very busy, but highly interesting weekend. I baked three batches of cookies, attended 2 open houses, ran countless errands, scrapbooked, discovered a vegetarian pizza combination that I really like (red pepper and pineapple), and read no less than 2 1/2 books, not counting my usual perusal of the two vegetarian cookbooks I got from the library. Whew.

Attending an open house as a new VIT (vegetarian in training) was again an interesting experience. Bypassing all the meat, I filled my plate with fruit, pasta salads (the ramen noodle, almond one today was yummy), rolls, baby carrots and Eloise's famous green beans. Next challenge, coming up with a good recipe for vegetarian baked beans that can be cooked in a slow cooker to bring to my sister's annual BBQ.

The other challenge is to find motivation while I am at home. Somehow the energy I have whilst out and about seems to seep out of me shortly after I walk in the door. Hmm...at work, my mp3 player keeps me moving along... in the car, it's the radio (105.5 or 90.1). Mayhaps I need to turn the radio on at home?

Ah, well. The weekend is drawing to a close, and I have the usual Sunday afternoon chores to do (trash, prep dinner & tomorrow's lunch, lay out clothes, so on)...so I'll bring this random collection of thoughts to a close. Come see me here on Tuesday for a perhaps more inspired musing.

The Magic of a "Do Over"

2010-06-10T18:33:00.000-07:00

I remember when I was a kid running around with neighborhood friends in Berkley, Michigan. We played several different games, ranging from a ball game involving a kickball and the side of a garage, to a massive game of make-believe where we were all Super Friend heroes or villains. I always was Catwoman (Julie Newmar was the best!)...though there was this one day when I questioned that wisdom as 'the Penguin' and I prepared to run--and were chased by all of the Super Friends!

There was this magical phrase that I remember. The Do Over. When the ball would hit a gutter or I would trip on my untied shoelace... I could stand up and holler 'do over!' and everything would reset to just before my goof. Ah...the magic of childhood days...

I was thinking of the 'do over' this morning at work. I was fairly miserable thinking about my previous day. Oh, work had gone well enough. I'd gotten home, did the usual after work routine of dishes and laundry, even picked up the house a bit. Then I did the unthinkable. I sat down in my favorite chair, and put my feet on the ottoman, and then picked up the new book I'd just gotten from the library. The Aloha Quilter (part of the Elm Creek quilters series). A comfy chair + purring cat in my lap + new unread book in a series I enjoy=total loss of time.

I sat there for the rest of the evening, lost in the tale, oblivious to the passing of time, until I got a call from one of my 'daughters' (I call my sons' significant others my daughters), asking for directions to the church picnic. I had missed the parade. I had missed the chance to sit with my friends from FMC and watch the parade. I had missed out on seeing my son and 'daughter' walking with their Karate school. I missed out on all the fun I had looked forward to all day. By the time I climbed out of that book, it was far too late to even head to the picnic. Worse, I had told my friends, my son, and my 'daughter' that I would be there....and I wasn't.

I realized that my morning was going badly today, because of my sincere regrets of the day before.... and since the age of 'do overs' was long gone, all I could do was to try to live my day better than I had yesterday.

And I wrote this....

V.I.T.

2010-06-06T17:38:00.000-07:00

I walk into the crowded room, and step up to the podium. "Hurmmm," I nervously clear my throat. "Is this thing on?" The microphone squeals, causing the front row to cringe. Tugging the edge of my favorite tan suit jacket in a 'Picard maneuver', I take a deep breath, and decide to finally speak. "I am a V. I. T." Gasps ricochet throughout the audience. Finally, my secret is out. As hands raise, I prepare to weather the fallout, and answer questions.

Ok, that's a rather dramatic scenario, but having told family and a few friends, it feels like time to announce it to the world. I am a V. I. T.--a vegetarian in training.

This was not a conscious choice, but one that came gradually, with nary a thought. I had already been eating healthier, switching to brown rice, whole wheat everything, and only poultry. Then I started filling my plate with at least half vegetables & fruit. Next, I switched to cooking beans from scratch instead of canned. I love black beans... Gradually, the amount of veggies on my plate grew, until there was very little meat on it, almost just a condiment. Then one day I realized that I really didn't like the taste & texture of meat any longer.

I quietly did what I do best, started researching the subject. I requested countless books from the library, and started hitting vegetarian websites. After all, this started because I wanted to eat healthier....

So, I have been learning, and experimenting with new recipes, mostly with success. We had veggie fried rice for dinner tonight--brown rice with sauteed carrot, onion, colorful peppers, zucchini, corn & peas. There were more veggies than rice! Tomorrow we are having grilled burritos--filled with black beans, corn, onion, and tomato, and shredded cheese.

I write this both to declare this change in my life, and in hopes of encouragement. I'm not out to change any one's life, just my own. A good friend of mine said that you have to 'listen' to your body. Apparently, mine wants more veggies. Onward to new adventures!

Strangest Thing I Ever Saw in a Dish Drainer

2010-06-01T16:37:00.000-07:00

I raised three kids, surviving the imaginative teenage years, with only a few odd moments. Having kids means I have washed and air dried all fashion of things. I've washed stuffed animals, barbie dolls, Lego's (how else do you get jelly off them?), basketballs, Frisbees, and jewelery. One time when we were having ice cream sundaes for dinner, my son used his mace (think medieval weapon) to open the whipped cream can. So of course, that had to be washed. (a mace, sitting in a dish drainer, next to my Blue Willow china!) I thought I'd seen most every manner of strange item in my dish drainer.

I was wrong.

My daughter, Cat, is fascinated with all things Japanese, and thus owns a ball jointed doll. This is a doll made of resin, with individual body parts (arms, torso, head, etc) strung together with an internal string system. Well, this weekend, Cat decided to totally dismantle the doll, and clean it thoroughly.

This definitely qualifies as the strangest thing I have ever seen in a dish drainer!

Happy Sock Day!

2010-05-15T19:24:00.001-07:00

Several years ago, three to be exact, my daughter heard me griping that there was nothing to look forward to. Cat, being the inventive sort, thought a while, the came up with a brilliant idea. "Let's make up our own holiday." So, we did. On the third Saturday of May, we celebrate Sock Day. It's a holiday that is to be interpreted and celebrated as you wish, just has to have some vague reference to socks. Why? Why not?

The first year, we gathered with another like minded friend of hers, and went to Kohl's, and bought....socks. Interesting, funny socks. Then we went to see the movie, Shrek....um...cause someone in that movie wears socks. Yeah. Last year, we celebrated again by seeing a movie, then by having sockies for dinner. What are sockies? Think a traditional pastie (that's pastie, not pastry), but jut out one end, so it looks like a sock. :)

This year, we had to delay our celebration for a morning, so that a very kind man could come and repair our dryer (though we air/rack dry our socks, still need a dryer). I gave Cat a very unique pair of socks...the kind you put in water, and it hydrates, and poof! it turns into regular sized socks. Then we went to the Farmer's Market.... not sure what it had to do with socks. Still, it was fun. We are making sockies tomorrow, so we are continuing the celebration for a weekend.

The whole point of this is to have something to look forward to, and simply to relax and have fun. And think of new ways to celebrate Sock Day every year.... Hmm..wonder how long before Hallmark starts selling Sock Day cards!

Happy Sock Day!

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

2010-05-11T16:38:00.001-07:00

I love listening to the Retro Lunch on 105.5 every weekday. There's an old song I've heard, and yes, remember when it was new... and the main line is "Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes". That's been on my mind a lot lately, changes, no the song. (though songs do get stuck in my head often. Doesn't everyone have music playing in the back of their minds?)

Anyways, (as Connie always says)... Change has been on my mind a lot lately. Life keeps changing, as it should. One minute I'm a parent of elementary school children, and my world is filled with crayons and Lego's. With one blink, and it's Final Fantasy and Lincoln Park. I try not to blink, but it happens, and then my sons are off foraging their way in the wilderness of the world, and my daughter is preparing for the same.

So, change keeps coming, no matter how tightly we hold on to it. So, I have been preparing, in many ways. Recently I have begun a major decluttering of my home & shed... I have two decades worth of paraphernalia to sort through, and decide what to keep and what to find new homes for. The very air is rife with memories and emotion, but I have to continue to forage on. I have to prepare for the new adventures in my life.

Gentle Evening

2010-05-04T16:30:00.000-07:00

This post is not going to be amazing, probably not even amuzing..but it is what it is. It's just a 'random musing'... It's been a gentle evening, something I've needed for a while. I made a simple dinner: turkey burgers with Swiss, french fries, corn and salad. Cat's friend, Jessica, came to have dinner with us, and as I write this, are playing some Japanese sounding game. Because Jessica is here, I baked cookies...yes, of course, mangled bunny cookies, especially good whilst warm. (If you want the recipe, or to know what they are, look at last Tuesday's posting). Cookies are done and cooling, laundry & dishes done...There is a quiet, cool breeze blowing through the window, the one where Sabby is sitting, staring longingly at the birds... and I have no other mandatory tasks ahead of me tonight.... I can relax, sew, or better yet, do some writing. Think it's time to tackle my book again.

Tune in Saturday, for another random musing....

Farmer's Market

2010-05-01T08:41:00.000-07:00

I have had such a hectic week. Put in a full day at the office, then run what felt like a bazillon errands afterwards. It was tiring, but worth it. Why? Because if freed up my Saturday for me to enjoy. And what did I choose to do with my beautiful, though somewhat soggy, magical Saturday morning?

With my favorite basket in hand, appropriately called a medium market basket, I drove through the misty morning rain, and went early to the Flint Farmer's market. I had three things I wanted to come home with: fresh lettuce, dried beans and a loaf of whole grain bread.

One thing you should know about me...being an avid reader, I stumbled upon two books, that changed the way I buy good. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and Plenty-the 100 mile diet. Both talk about the fact that most of the food we eat comes from across the entire country, or worse, even further. Fruits and vegetables begin to lose vitamins, and obviously, freshness the moment they are picked. Just how fresh do you think a tomato from southern Mexico is then? So I have begun reading labels, and at the Farmer's Market asking where things were grown.

Even at a farmer's market, it is smart to ask... unless you truly believe Chicita bananas, watermelon and even pineapples are grown locally! Yes, truly did see these items in a vendor's stand. I said, sorry, I prefer locally grown. The gentleman told me in a snippy voice that I would not find anything fresh there today. I turned around, walked away, and over to a stand selling fresh locally grown spring lettuces, radishes and turnip greens...from an educational farm, in Beecher, grown by kids. This is where I purchased, inexpensively, a big bag of lettuces.

I found an array of dried beans that were packaged in Perry. The seller was honest, and admitted that some of the beans were not grown locally, because many could not be grown in Michigan. I picked up white northern beans and cranberry beans (!!) there. At a stand nearby, I got the whole grain bread (and a cinnamon roll).

I think the highlight of my morning experience was talking to a sweet older lady, at one of the outside stalls, who was selling a variety of crafts & old books...She was the picture of everyone's gramma. From her I splurged, and bought an tulip print apron, for myself!

Freshness and locally grown are the main reasons I frequent the Farmer's Market in Flint. You just have to ask..and not believe that there are pineapple trees in Michigan!

Mangled Bunny Cookies

2010-04-27T17:46:00.000-07:00

Everyone has their traditions. One of mine was born out of frugality. Years ago I was reading the Tightwad Gazette, a newsletter for those who like to, or have to live frugally. There I found a tip...and have followed it every year since.

After Easter is over, I go to a store, and buy a few Easter bunnies...the hollow ones (which are suddenly on sale). Why? Well, think about it. What are they made of? Chocolate. And if you put them in a sturdy baggie, and wap them with a rolling pin a few times, you know what you get? Chocolate chunks! I use these to make chocolate chunk cookies. At first, I would pry off the candy eyes and carrots, but one time I didn't. My children were surprised but pleased when one of them found a cookie that stared back at him!

I just finished making a batch of them tonight, for my daughter's college art class, at her request. And resting at the top of the batch is a cookie that stares back....

Mangled Bunny Cookies:

1 c granulated sugar
1 c brown sugar
1 c butter or margarine, softened
2 eggs
1 1/2 tsp vanilla
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
3 cups all purpose flour
12-16 oz chopped or 'wapped' chocolate bunny chunks (about 4 small or 1 big one)

Cream butter & sugars til light. Mix in eggs and vanilla. Sprinkle on 1 cup flour, then dump the baking soda and salt on top. Mix well. Stir in remaning 2 cups flour, til well blended. Fold in bunny chunks.

Preheat oven to 375. Put parchment paper on two cookie sheets. If you have a small spring loaded scoop, use it, or 2 spoons. Place 12 cookies on each cookie sheet. Bake one pan at a time in middle of the oven for 8 1/2 minutes. Switch pans, and let hot cookies cool a few minutes before transfering cookies to a cooling rack (or paper towels). Wait til sheet is luke warm before putting more dough on it. Repeat til all cookies are done. Enjoy!

Not Alone

2010-04-25T18:22:00.000-07:00

Tonight as I sat amongst the 18 members of my Small Group (weekly Bible study), I felt such a warmth, a feeling of well-being. Being me, I had to analyze it. Was it the physical warmth of sitting on a comfy sofa in a carpeted basement, surrounded by so many others? No, that wasn't it. Was it the warm scent of coffee brewing on the snack table? No..though it was a good scent? Yes, I don't drink coffee, but I love the smell.) No, not that.

Then I figured it out...it was the warm feeling of being in a group of believers, studying the Word. Being engaged in a discussion of faith and an in depth study of the Bible, this began the warmth. But that warm feeling of well being was mostly caused by being in a group of True Friends, people who I know accept & support me--as I am right now. They believe in me and care deeply for me--as I do for them. I am not alone.

Zombie mornings

2010-04-20T17:50:00.001-07:00

Tea saved my life again this morning. Ok, that may be exaggerating, but it did bring me alive. I have been sleeping badly recently, so when I walked in this morning, I was on auto pilot. I prepare for this state. On Sunday night, I lay out my clothes for the upcoming work week. I have one of those 'princess pink & purple' weekly organizer things hanging in my closet (instead of saying Monday, Tuesday...I have the designations turned to the French side. Figure this way I will eventually learn at least 5 words in French!) Anyways, every night before I stagger off to bed, I check my clothes for tomorrow, lay out jewelry, and pack my lunch. This way, when I have to zombie my way through the morning, I won't forget anything essential, like say my purse (it's happened!). I really hope and pray that no one plays a practical joke on me, and some evening slip into my room, and switch my clothes for clown pants and a t-shirt that says 'Eat at Joe's'! Some mornings I am so zombie-like, I'd end up walking into work wearing that outfit! Needless to say, it would raise some eyebrows...

Back to this morning, I was having just such a morning. I even woke up and was certain that it was 8am, and I was late to work. Then I realized that what I'd taken for the morning light was in fact the kitchen's overhead lights...that somebody left on.....Turning them off, I went back to sleep, seeing as it was actually 1am. After waking up a few more times, I finally got up with my alarm (ok...I confess..after hitting the snooze twice).

I zombied my way throughout the morning..barely waking up in time to walk into the work building. Grabbing my tea mug, and a Dublin Morning tea bag (cause the mug looked lonely)...and I staggered into Nora's office (whom Cat calls Nora-not-Roberts!), with no idea why I was there. She knew.. she handed me two French Vanilla creamers. Ok...I stood there stupidly... holding an empty mug...empty except for that tea bag...hmm.....and creamer... oh, right. So off I zombied towards the magical spout of hot water...

A short while later found me at my desk, tapping away... while watching steam curl up from my mug...emitting an enticing scent. Finally I could wait no longer. Ahhh.... that first sip, and all is right in my world again. Wait a moment... I looked down...Good. No clown pants....

My Talismans

2010-04-13T18:55:00.000-07:00

As I sat at work, frustrated by a bad turn of events, a difficult tangle that I to unravel...I happened to glance down at my keyboard, just to the right. What I saw there caused me to smile, and light shown at the edges of my gray mood.

Sitting in my keyboard tray are three small items: a loonie, a plastic coin and a rock. These are my talismans. A talisman is an object thought to be a charm, according to Webster. The first is a Canadian dollar, also called a loonie (there is a loon on one side, hence the name). I received the first on the weekend of my 40th birthday. My parents took me on a weekend trip to Sarnia, Canada, a place they enjoy visiting often. I went to a British Tea House that was incredible. We walked in the park beside the bridge to America. I watched large ships in the harbor by the hotel we stayed in. But most of all, I had two entire days with just my parents, a first in years. That trip was a supreme highlight in my life; a gentle reminder that I have wonderful parents that love me. The loonie I keep as a constant reminder of that trip.

The second talisman is an inexpensive, green plastic coin stamped with a four leaf clover. I received this from a friend on St Patrick's Day. It's a simple reminder of friendship; valuable in my eyes.

The final talisman is a white rock that I found just outside of my office building. I picked it up on a rough day, one where everything seemed dark, lacking any light. As I stood there, under the cloud darkened sky, I examined the rock I had picked up at random. Running across the center was a crack. I squeezed the rock, but it held firm. Then the random thought strayed across my mind...'if this cracked rock can hold together, then maybe I, cracked & broken though I may feel, perhaps I too can be strong.'

These three seemingly ordinary objects do act as talismans for me..they remind me that my parents love me, remind me of uncomplicated friendship, and remind me to hold firm, to stay strong... and moreover, these objects, my talismans, charm a smile onto me.

Ahhhh.......

2010-04-10T06:12:00.000-07:00

Bruce Wayne has his fire pole, Clark Kent has his phone booth, Don Blake his cane/hammer... and I have a mug of freshly brewed, strong enough to dance upon, yet supremely tasteful, mug of hot tea, with a hint of creamer. This magical brew transforms me form a walking zombie with sunken eyes and a listless drool, into a fully functional human being. After a second mug--I'm ready to change the world-or at least my small pocket of it.

There's just something about tea, when it gets to that perfect temperature-just cool enough to drink deeply, yet hot enough to do so cautiously-that helps me transcend the trivial circumstances of my day. One sip and my off-kilter day rightens, and that 'waiting for the next shoe to drop' feeling subsides.

However trivial my rhapsodies over the powers of a simple mug of tea may seem, for me it does hold true. I walked into work yesterday morning, rather, stumbled in the general direction of the building, feeling supremely grateful to the kind guard who opened all the doors for me. I felt completely wasted, not from a night of excess, but from staying up far past my normal bedtime on Thursday. The art department at my daughter's college sponsored a trip to the art museums in Chicago. They were supposed to arrive back at the campus at 11:30. It was closer to 12:30 when they returned. I didn't get to bed til after 1, then up again by 6ish. Hence, my stumbling gait...

At the office, I am a lone island in a sea of coffee drinkers. These people are serious coffee drinkers. Occasionally, one of them will drift to my side, and come see me, the Tea Lady, to try a peppermint tea, or my favorite Dublin Morning Tea, found only at my favorite store, Irish Alley. Even the big boss stops by occasionally, and for him I keep ordinary decaf Lipton tea. I have one convert, Paigely, who loves the morning teas. I'll never give up...

Tea is a full sensory experience. You hold the tea cup in your hands, feeling the gentle heat emanate through the smooth china. Then you raise it up, and as the steam emerges, you scent the tantalizing fragrance. Then you take a testing sip. Is it at a suitable temperature? As that amber liquid crosses you taste buds, the flavor explodes. The caffeine gently nudges you awake, the taste perks you up, and the experience rightens your world.

Yesterday morning, a mug of Dublin Morning Tea with cream brought me back into the world of the living. A second mug, this time Earl Grey, gave me functionality. I won't go so far as to say it saved me, but it certainly improved my sense of well-being and therefore, my day. I think it's time to brew that first pot of tea now. (at work it's mugs, here at home it's always a proper pot and a beautiful tea cup.)

The Search

2010-04-06T15:40:00.000-07:00

PLEASE NOTE: if you are friends with my daughter, do NOT tell her about this blog...until next Monday...it contains information about a bday gift she will be getting.

Apparently, the ability to hand or machine sew is a lost art. Yesterday, I spent more than two hours perusing three different stores, in the search of a sewing basket. For you non-sewers out there, a sewing basket is a square or rectangular, cloth or basket weave covered container with a hinged lid. It is used to contain & organize sewing supplies, such as scissors, sewing needles, thread, seam ripper, measuring tape and so on.

As Cat has started sewing (mostly via machine) for her ball-jointed doll, as well as for herself, she needed a sewing basket (and guess who's she kept borrowing?). Having two and half hours to occupy myself between work and an appointment, I figured that finding this item would be easy. I started at Hobby Lobby, having heard great things about the store. Well, it took me almost 20 minutes just to find the sewing section in that vast store. They should have maps! Once there, I found a total of two baskets...and neither were right for my eccentric daughter.

Next I went to Michaels. I've shopped there many times before, but never for sewing notions. I found the sewing section...one single wall, that had three items that I think were meant to be sewing baskets...but looked like jewelry cases, and one was missing the handle!

Having only a final hour left, I went to Walmart..figuring that I'd search in vain. After chatting with a friend who was waiting for her ride, I wandered in. Heading down the aisle, I actually found a decent sewing area. And to my suprise, I found three sewing baskets, in good condition, and actually cheaper than the other places. I walked out with a really nice gift for my daughter.

Now as long as none of my small handful of readers directs Cat's attention this way....

What a Day

2010-03-30T18:18:00.000-07:00

It's been a bit of a weird day. My day started with me starring as a pin cushion. Seriously... I went to have the usual blood work done, and it took two people and two tries to get it done. Ouch! It was a real attractive look, walking out of the lab department, sporting two clumps of gauze and the ubiquitous hospital tape!

I finally got to go have breakfast, in the hospital cafeteria. See, I had this $5 McLaren 'bucks'.. and it seemed a fortuituous moment to spend it. However, not having had my all-too-necessary morning tea, I actually had to take the cafeteria ladies' suggestions on what to get...for my $5.

Off to the office, with a decent breakfast & grape juice in me, and the fun continued. The phone seemed to ring every time I was away from my desk. Spent much of the day returning voice mails. At least I had easy access to hot water & tea bags... (I am the Tea Lady at work...people come to my desk..including the Big Boss...for various kinds of tea).

Once at home, things seemed to get better. I made chicken pot pie that turned out wonderful. Yum! (simple recipe too..happy to share it with any friend who asks). Then I made cream scones. They came out perfectly.

Then I finally sat down to write my blog...only to find my inspiration had gone to bed without me. Well, Jack London says "You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." Since I didn't have a club handy, I decided to simple ramble on and tell you all about my day. :)

Adventures in Cooking

2010-03-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

I've been reading some of Nora Robert's Irish novels this past week. This naturally caused me to start researching Irish pub recipes, simply to find out what the character, Shawn, had been cooking. What's a poundie? A Boxty? In searching, I found some truly excellant looking recipes.

This morning, having a late start, I decided to try a new buttermilk pancake recipe. Why such an ordinary choice? A week or so ago, I drove by a billboard depicting car sized pancakes, dripping with melted butter and pure maple syrup. I've been craving them ever since. So, I pulled out a new recipe, and tried it...imagining light, fluffy pancakes with rising steam.

In my imagination they were light & fluffy. In reality, the dough plopped stiffly onto the pan. I had to force them to spread out. Then they did rise...tall. Tall and heavy. It took two hands to transfer the single pancake onto my plate. Well, I had to at least try this, er, drop scone perhaps? It tasted exactly as it looked. Heavy, thick, dense bit of pastry that will probably still be inside of me at the turn of the next century!

In my family, we have a way of rating new recipes. There's the 'Wow! Can we have this again tomorrow?', that's the best. Then there's the 'It's good, but needs a bit of tweaking'. The third is 'It's okay, but let's not have this again'. The worst of all, is an unspoken glance, followed by scrapping said food off the plate and reaching for the emergency peanut butter & bread.

I think you can guess which one this was. Yeah... and I'm still craving buttermilk pancakes!

First Day of Spring!

2010-03-20T15:08:00.000-07:00

Wow. I woke up to sunshine streaming through my window. I sat up thinking, oh, good..it's another magical Saturday morning! Got ready for the day, grabbed my jacket, and prepared to wander out into a lovely warm spring day. Right. Sure. One foot out the door, and I immediately stepped backwards. Brr...

After switching to my winter coat, I trudged out to 'floof' the snow off my car. "It's not snowing." says my daughter Cat. Ok, so I floofed off the thick opaque rain. Rolling the window up firmly, I drove off to the Scoutathon that I was helping with.

Instead of the signs of spring that I expected...crocuses blooming, birds singing, and Harleys roaring by... I saw snow covered, er, thick rain covered cars, people huddled in burly coats, and the only music I heard came from my car radio.

Sigh... will spring really ever come?

That first wondrous sip

2010-03-17T12:33:00.000-07:00

There I sat at work this morning, waiting not so patiently. That soothing yet invigorating scent wafting towards me. I try to clear the fog from my head, as I sit in front of my computer, trying to focus on my morning tasks. My mind is still slumbering peacefully away...
Have I waited long enough? Chopsticks in hand, I open the lid from my mug, and fish out the bag. Liberally adding French Vanilla cream, I then replace the lid. Still should wait a bit longer. It's not yet ready; not yet safe.
So, sitting the mug back down, I attempt to concentrate, to work. Glancing over at the mug, I wonder again. Perhaps it is ready now? I take a cautious testing sip. Ouch! Bad move. Sitting back, I try to ignore my scalded tongue.
I wait a few more moments, as the wondrous scent surrounds me. Then I can't stand it. I can't wait a moment longer. I grab up the mug, open the lid, and take that first sip. Ahhh......
With that first proper sip, all is right in my world. It's the elixir that moves my mornings. Tea.

The days blur together

2010-03-16T18:14:00.000-07:00

The last two weeks seem to blur together. Oh, I had three amazing days last week-Wednesday through Friday, but they are a dim memory right now. I find myself wondering what day of the week it is. Then I remember...I just watched NCIS, therefore it must be Tuesday (unless it was a rerun, then I'd be clueless).

There is a relative sameness to the days. I'm not sure why. It feels like I'm washing the same dishes again and again. Didn't I just wash those jeans a day ago? At work it's much the same...dealing with issues, untangling problems, explaining the same thing over again.

I think the trouble lies within myself. I'm tired. Perhaps it's in part because of the time change. Or perhaps it's because I just can't seem to really relax these last two weeks. Whatever the reason, I'm certain it will pass.

By Saturday's post, I'm sure to be my usual upbeat self. Meet me here on another Magical Saturday morning to find out.

Friendship

2010-03-13T06:05:00.000-08:00

I have a friend whom I have known since we were both just 14. We met in the cafeteria at lunchtime, started talking amidst the noise and confusion of several hundred teenagers. After exchanging phone numbers, we headed off to class. That simple beginning spawned the greatest friendship of my life. We have spent countless hours on the phone (awkward back when phones had curly cords that my mother didn't want stretched out). We roamed the length and breadth of Sterling Heights on our bikes.

Then graduation came, and we headed in separate directions, me off to Ann Arbor. We didn't talk as much, but the friendship remained. Years passed, we each got married, had kids... (and I'm aunt to hers and her to mine). More years passed.

She was there for me when my marriage crumbled, and I began a new life on my own. And the friendship continued.

She has always been there for me, to listen as I vent, to be calm when I'm freaking out, and to say the hard truths when they need to be said. I tell her everything....and believe she does the same to me.

Now, though we live an hour apart, we still talk nearly daily. Now it's on cordless phones, instant messaging, emails and cell phones.... but it's the same friendship.

I'm made other friends since then...Sharon, Faye, Rhoda, Marie, Paigely, Andrea, and many others... but she is still very important to me... one of the strongest people I know, a mother, a wife, a Christian, a college student and more. She is everything...she is my friend. Connie.

Unexpected...

2010-03-10T07:13:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, an unexpected feeling of hope, anticipation and even expectation came over me. Random feelings of hope are not something I usually experience. Oh, I'm hopeful--any true science fantasy addict is imbued with hope. But this was an unwarranted and unexpected feeling of hope.

It bubbled up inside of me--waiting for the source, the right moment to spring forth. Hoping not to jinx this rare feeling, I kept my outward expression neutral, and continued working diligently at my computer for the rest of the work day.

And then it Happened....

Everything went wrong. I got home only to find that my kitchen sink was clogged, my daughter was having a meltdown, one of my wrist braces was missing, and we were out of soy sauce. With a heavy sigh, I did what I always do. Tackle each problem by doing something. I badgered her into changing out of pajama pants and we headed out. I took her to Michael's Hobby store. Surrounding her with art supplies always cheers her up, and she needed paint for her class anyways. She was in her mecca. She unmelted...became almost cheerful. Then we picked up draino and soy sauce and headed back home.

Tried the draino. Worked only marginally. Called the plumber guy, left a message. Great..another expensive repair. Started dinner, at 7:30 at night. *shudder* While cooking, I tore the kitchen and my car apart, looking for the missing wrist brace. Nothing. After dinner, I chatted on the phone with my friend, Connie. She suggested holding a rag in the one side of the double sink, while plunging in the other. So, I tried it. Got Cat to hold a washcloth, while I did the frantic plunging thing. It Worked. !!

So, daughter unmelted. Soy sauce purchased. Sink unplugged. The missing brace? Still gone. Until this morning, when I grabbed my bag of crochet, that I'd taken to work yesterday. And there it was...under the partially crocheted blanket...

So, not only is my friend Connie freaking amazing at home repair advice, but I also had an unexpected amazing day....

Adventures in Baking

2010-03-06T19:26:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I decided to do something I hadn't done in a long while, but had been thinking about doing recently--I baked a layer cake. Oh, not just a boring, regular 2 layer cake. Oh, no. I baked no less than three layers! Problem was, I decided to do this at the last minute. Never a good idea.

The cake layers came out beautifully, and I set them on a rack to cool. Then I immediately started mixing up homemade chocolate frosting. The frosting was too thin, not sure why. I added more powdered sugar, and glanced at the clock. My dinner guests would arrive shortly, and I still had to finish this, and get pizza (homemade, of course) in the oven. So I hurried. Bad idea.

With a bowl of grainy, thin frosting in hand, I started frosting the warm cake. My daughter, Cat, wandered into the kitchen, stuck a finger into the frosting, and said, "Aren't you supposed to let that cool before you frost it?" "It's cool enough", I told her. I placed one warm layer on the cake platform, and started to gently dump frosting on it. This went smoothly. I glanced at the clock, grabbed the next layer, and placed it on top of the glistening frosting. Wait. Frosting isn't supposed to glisten. The second layer slid ever so slightly to the left. Oh, no. I smooshed it back on top, and glancing at the clock again, dumped frosting on top.

Again, the frosting seemed to slid right onto the warm layer. I snatched up the final layer, edged the listing second layer back on top, and placed the third and final layer on top. As I tried to gently frost this last, top-most layer, I had to continually push the layers back on right. They kept sliding off to the side. I hollered for Cat to come help. After reminding me about the 'should have waited til they were cool' so very helpfully, she helped try to smoosh the listing layers back on top, as I frantically frosted the sides, hoping this would somehow glue the layers together.

Our hands coated with glistening frosting, we watched in amazement as a small crack appeared in the topmost layer, right in the middle, slowly widening and lengthening... a chocolate San Andreas fault line. Our eyes met above the disintegrating cake. I grabbed the cake container lid, and slammed it home onto the cake base. Cat opened up the fridge, and I shoved it none-too-gently inside.

After several minutes trying to clean the frosting off of our hands, the counter, the fridge handle and the floor, I finally gathered the nerve to look. Opening the fridge with much trepidation, I peered within. The cake was still contained within the clear sided container, but the damage was complete. The top layer was now in four pieces, one stuck to the side of the cake container. The second layer had slid partly off the bottom. And the frosting had finally set.

Cat dumped some sprinkles on it, and we hacked off pieces. It tasted fairly good... but I have absolutely no urge to bake a cake again for quite some time.

Living without red meat, well, almost

2010-03-02T15:43:00.000-08:00

When my daughter was young, she would periodically get these unexplainable stomach pains. I took her to doctors again and again, but they couldn't figure it out. Once we ended up in the ER, as her pains seemed to indicate appendicitis. It wasn't.

Fast forward many years, and one suggestion by her grandmother, and we found out the trouble. Red meat. She cannot eat it. We eliminated it from our diet, and she has been fine since.

So, how do I cook dinner without red meat? It wasn't easy at first. We ate a lot of chicken. That got boring after a while. We tried veggie meals. Interesting, to say the least. But in the last year or so, we have come up with a workable (and tasty) variety.

I make meatballs, meatloaf (yay! mini cheddar loaves!), 'hamburgers' and even lasagna can all be made with ground turkey. So can tacos, spaghetti sauce and grammommy nachos. I tried it in chili, but didn't work. (that's okay..she doesn't like chili, so when she's gone for a few days, I make chili the regular way).

We do make a few veggie recipes, including a great veggie lasagna, and black beans over rice.

When I have a desparate craving for red meat, I cook up a steak (hey, why not), and she cooks up some fish (bleh), and we share the side dishes.

So, problem solved, deliciously!

Second Life

2010-02-27T06:57:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, I imagined that when my kids were all grown, that my life would be fairly quiet. Just a time for quiet reflection, and preparation for the day when I'd have grandkids to spoil. (and I will...spoil them, that is!).

However, now I am there..at that point at my life when my kids are all adults, and beyond the occasional reminder, and copious batches of cookies & banana bread, don't really need my help. So, where am I now? Seated in a rocking chair, quietly reflecting on my life, as though it were over? Nah.... not happening here.

Instead, I find myself at a time in my life wherein I have been reinventing myself. Oh, as my best friend Connie would say, 'don't get me wrong', I thoroughly enjoyed my time as a mother. And I really & truly miss sitting on the couch with my three kids, reading to them....

However, now I find myself with time. Time to explore other interests, other sides of myself. Two seasons ago, I became a Grid Goddess at Waterford Hills racetrack. My dad used to take my siblings and I to watch the races. Now, I get my dad (and mom) into the pits, right into the midst of the action. I get to harass drivers, er, check safety equipment, and I love it. The sound of a open wheel car rumbling it's engine goes straight to my soul!

I am also spending time, nearly daily (tis my goal), writing. I am writing articles, my father's stories, and even working on a book (over 25000 words!). Granted, some times getting my backside in the chair to start is the hardest part, but once I'm there...I'm in heaven.

This may not seem like much, working at a racetrack, writing, hanging out with friends, but it's only the start.... and I'm happy, really and truly happy. I still get to see my kids, not as often as I'd like, but they are still in my life. (thank God for cell phones & texting & computers!) But this second life of mine is just getting started. Wonder what will happen next?

Uninspired

2010-02-23T14:09:00.000-08:00

Hello all. I usually post on this blog on Tuesdays and Saturday. Today, despite having a great day at work, I had a bad afternoon. During a conversation with someone important to me, I mangage to, well, see if I could put both feet into my mouth. Bleh... I've always believed that words are very powerful. They can uplift, push down, and affect relationships. Well, I used the wrong ones today, and hurt someone, insulted his pride. I know he'll eventually forgive, and maybe forget... but for now, I'm in the valley of discontent.

Thus, I'm feeling less than inspired....

I'm off to bake something as an apology.

What is it about Farmville?

2010-02-20T06:00:00.000-08:00

The other day, my son Ben called, and asked what we were doing. I told him that his sister was hard at work on her math homework, and that I was playing an online game called Farmville. The poor boy thought he was in the Twilight Zone.

I have never played video games, much less online games. Oh, there was the occasional game of Pac Man and Galaxia when I was a teen, but I never really got into it. And I've played solitare on the computer, but not often. But now I find myself logging on daily, heading straight to Facebook, in order to go harvest trees or milk cows on Farmville.

For those few that have never heard of it, Farmville is exactly what it sounds like: an online game wherein you manage a farm. You are given a small plot to start with, a few coins, and 4 plowed spaces. You plant seeds from a limited selection, and wait. As you wait, you can send gifts to other players, and help on their farms. These gifts are in the form of farm animals, trees, and decorations, like fences. You become 'neighbors' with other players.

Why am I nearly obsessed with playing this farm game? For one, it feeds my gardening urge buy letting me watch crops grow, and most especially, have an entire forest of trees-apple, banana, walnut, plum, olives, and more. The game is customizable. Me, I love trees...so at least a third of my current large plot is covered in a forest. Others have a few trees squished together, and a lot of crop land.

The other reason is for the social aspect. I first got on Facebook because I discovered that many people from my church were on it. Many of these same people are now my neighbors on Farmville. It's fun to kibitz about the game. I often chat with my best friend Connie, while we both play the game. We help each other build barns, send Valentines, and help on each other's farms.

Now, I'm off to play Farmville. My chicken coop is nearly done being expanded to hold more, and I have grapes to harvest. And if you stop on by, I'm always looking for new neighbors!

Valentine's Day Aftermath

2010-02-16T17:44:00.000-08:00

Well, I survived it. Another Valentine's Day... my least favorite holiday of the year. From when I was a kid and joy on Valentine's Day was measured in whether or not you got the nifty valentines with candy attached, to now, when if feels like Single Awareness Day, I have never enjoyed the day. When I was a kid, I did everything I could to avoid being at school on that day. My mother was a nurse in training, so it wasn't easy. I'd have to start nearly a week in advance with the sniffles, and slowly, day by day, add symptoms to my growing condition. Some how, she never caught on that I was faking it...in fact, I often really did get sick. Murphy's Law, I guess. (on a side note, I finally confessed my fakery to her this year. It's good to confess.)

This year, I actually enjoyed a few things about the day. First, I play Farmville (which my son Ben is still in shock over... his mom, playing a computer game.) Well, on Farmville, my mailbox is overflowing with valentines... and they are still coming. Then at church, I got to see my other son, Robert, and his long-time girlfriend, Lauryn, at church. They gave me a picture, a beautiful picture, of the two of them together. (so beautiful, I'm going to have to buy a special frame for it...none I had seem worthy). Then, I got a great gift from my secret pal, including dark chocolate! Yum. (Thank you, whomever you are!)

Then it happened, the one gesture that warmed my heart, and made my day. I walked out of the sanctuary, and into the foyer, and saw Robert holding a gray woolen coat. It didn't register. I turned to go get my coat. He smiled, and walked up, holding out the coat. Then I got it... I know, helping me on with my coat may seem like a simple thing, but it made my whole day. It was sweet, and caring, and made me smile.

So, I guess this Valentine's Day was, well, okay. Wonder what next year will bring?

My daughter's new obsession

2010-02-13T07:28:00.000-08:00

My daughter, Cat, who is almost 20 years old has a new obsession. Actually, it's not that new really. She's been obsessed with anything Japanese for many years now. My kitchen cupboards are filled with ingredients I can't pronounce, much less understand what are. There are books in our bookcases (I'm a readaholic, I've bookcases everywhere), that have symbols instead of letters, and are read back to front. Many icons on this computer are labled with words I don't know. She cooks Japanese, speaks rudimentary Japanese, and hopes to go there someday (perhaps to live!)

In high school, she discovered a Japanese passion... collecting, customizing, painting, sewing for, and talking about Ball Jointed Dolls. The dolls come in several sizes, including an 18" one. They remind me of marianettes without the controlling strings. And with elf ears.

Well, Cat saved up for one, and finally, via the magic of pay pal and our computer, ordered from an American company who gets the parts from Japan, and assembles them here. Then the wait began. Every day for months, I was informed of the progress of the delivery of the parts to that company. Then the long wait until those parts were assembled, stuffed in a yellow silk-like sack, put in a box, and shipped here. She agonized, complained, chittered with excitement, and finally, her ball jointed doll arrived here. I thought things would calm down then.

Not a chance.

Then she had to order hair for her bald doll. And make clothes. After all, you can't carry around a naked doll! My creative daughter decifered directions from a site, and made jeans and a top for Chi, her doll. From keychains, she created tennis shoes emblazened with Hello Kitty.

Then Chi started coming everywhere with us. To the movies. To the store. To school. To church, where our beloved greeter, Janet, declared jokingly, 'get that ugly kid away from me!' Now I find myself often standing at a checkout, holding Chi, like she was a grandchild or somesuch, while Cat rifles through her purse.

Now I find that the doll is growing on me. Hey, this hobby got Cat learning to sew, use a sewing machine, measuring tape, and my material.... If possible, she's even more outgoing, happily explaining about her doll (and why the blasted wig keeps falling off), and her obsession.

I guess this is a good thing... and it's definately here to stay! And it's far better than those octopus meatballs!

Another definition of Family.

2010-02-09T16:14:00.000-08:00

Family. I realized another aspect of being part of an extended family today. I just got a call from my mother. Why? It's snowing major inches all over Michigan, and she just wanted to make certain that I was inside and okay. Then, I was on Facebook, and Roy, my 'other father', tagged me to ask if we were both home & warm. Next thing I know, I'm getting a weather report from Kentucky, and other friends checking on us here to. (friends, family..the lines blur).

So, family is a group of people who care about you, who during a snowstorm, call and check on you. They are those who offer to install your daughter's light fixture, or do your taxes, reload your computer, or check on you during a snow storm...who refuse all forms of payment, other than baked goods.

Family is amazing. Now I need to go bake cookies....

The past becomes the present

2010-02-06T04:39:00.000-08:00

Thursday, 6pm, found me walking into church, grumbling at having to leave my warm house to drive in my cold car up to church on another evening. I have so few evenings completely at home. Keeping my coat on, to ward against the chilly temperatures inside of the sanctuary, I found a seat at the end of the row where the altos were to sit.

Gary, our fearless choir leader, handed me the cantata, and a copy of three hymns we are going to be singing for Easter morning. Here I found myself grumbling again, as I was told they would be familiar hymns...but having been raised in a Lutheran church, only one hymn was familiar to Me.

Then we got started. Gary explained the basics of following music, and I had to force myself to not roll my eyes. Such a negative spirit I was!

When we began to sing, everything changed. Hearing the beautiful harmonies that altos are privileged to sing. I found old skills coming back. I knew what a DS coda was, how to find a measure, what dynamic markings were. Everything I learned from Mr. Demarea, Mrs. Sopoliga, Professor Kurt, and Matt Bays, from years in high school choirs, college choirs, and the wonderful purple robed choir at New Community. It all came back.

Everyone was sitting, but I just couldn't. The words of Mr. Demarea, 'you can't get music from a folded instrument' prompted me. Ignoring the embarrassment, I stood up. Others in the choir looked at me, like 'what?'...but I had to. Standing up, I could properly sing, to get the needed support as the alto's part soared up into soprano range.

And my spirit soared with it.

I owe Gary an apology for my grumblings, and to God. I am so looking forward to next Thursday, for the chance to sing with a choir again. And amongst those sitting, I'll be the one standing up on the end, singing fortissimo.

He saw his Shadow

2010-02-02T17:38:00.000-08:00

So, it's Groundhog Day. A day when the world looks to a small furry creature to decide if we get to endure an extra 6 weeks of cold and ice and snow. Big surprise...Phil saw his shadow. Personally, I'd have been surprised if he hadn't. After all, this is Michigan. We have 4 seasons here. Almost Winter. Winter. Still Winter. Then 2 weeks of blazing hot summer. Then rinse & repeat.

So, here we face another 6 weeks of winter. Probably more like 8 weeks of frigid north. I remember seeing snow in April a few years back! So, my snow shovel will stay inside, so that I can still be prepared to shovel my way out of the house. I have only vague memories of what the sun looks like.

But I have faith. One day, in the distant future, my daffodil bulbs really will fight their way out of the ground again. Shortly thereafter, I'll hear the one distinctive sound that always hearlds the coming of Spring for me...no, not a robin singin...it's the blissful roar of a Harley, racing down the highway.

Until then, I'll keep my slippers nearby, extra blankets on my bed, and the thought of blue skies hidden in my heart. Someday, the sun will return....I believe!

Magical Saturday Mornings

2010-01-30T06:20:00.000-08:00

Saturday mornings are my favorite time of the entire week. It's like my own personal holiday that occurs weekly. Why? There is a certain magic to Saturday mornings. I wake up, after sleeping in a bit (when you get up at 5am on weekdays, sleeping til 7am is sleeping in)...and the day feels fresh, new. There is no place that I have to rush off to, and no reason to dress up. I can wear my favorite jeans if I want to (and I always do). The sun is shining, and seems to sparkle through my windows. I have such a feeling of well-being at those times.

I feel like I could do anything. The air is ripe with possibilities. The past is of no consideration; instead, there is a certain newness to the day. The day is fresh, and all that is needed to get started is a nice cup of tea. With a tea cup in hand, I sit and explore the possibilities. What shall I do today? Write a novel? Draft an amazing article? Begin a loaf of fragrent bread? Anything is possible.

Saturday mornings are not a time to be wasted. No TV viewing, no reading of books (my favorite addiction), nothing ordinary.

So, I'm off to continue on with my wonderful Saturday morning, off to explore the magic of the day. Enjoy the magic of your personal holiday!

Why I Write

2010-01-26T16:47:00.000-08:00

The question comes to mind: just why do I write? It's been my dream since childhood, since I figured out that someone wrote those amazing stories that I read. But beyond that, why?

One reason I just discovered this morning. When I get to work, and while getting my morning mug of tea (yes, mug...at home I brew proper pots of tea, but at work, can't often)...I usually end up briefly chatting with my friend Sharon. As always, the question arises, how was your day/night yesterday? This morning, I found myself answering 'I had a good day yesterday.' Then as I walked down the long corridor through cubicleville, I found myself thinking, 'why did I answer that?' The work day yesterday, while productive, was a frustrating one. So why did I think my day was good?

Then I had it..the difference was that yesterday I spent time writing. All I did was to work on an article, maybe 20 minutes or so. But that was enough. When I spend time writing, I am happier. A bit of joy is released from my heart in the act of writing...and encompasses me.

So, now, realizing that, I will endevor to write daily. I know I can do that, because in November, I took part in NaNoWriMo, and wrote for 28 days out of 30. So, watch for new posts here on Tuesdays and Saturdays...and know that in between, I'm at my keyboard (or using my magical Scottish pen), and I am writing.

The word "tawny" flittered through my mind....

2010-01-22T18:47:00.000-08:00

I didn't need my first mug of tea this morning. I got enough of an adrenaline boost on the way to work. I got almost all the way there, and had just turned onto Mill Road, and had just glanced down to check my speedometer, and when I glanced back up, my first thought was 'tawny'. Then the thought traveled swiftly around my mind, looking for something to link to. Then it clicked, and I swiftly swerved into the oncoming lane, to avoid hitting a doe that was just standing in the road. Just standing there. When I swerved, she sauntered off with an attitude of 'What?' like an annoyed teenager. I am just so glad that there wasn't a car in that oncoming lane. I can just see that accident report had there been a car there. 'Driver swerved into the path of the oncoming car, to avoid hitting a deer that spontaneously appeared in the lane.'

Good Morning!

New Perspective

2010-01-19T18:54:00.001-08:00

It's midway through the first month of a new year. I've had a few magical Saturday mornings (I'll explain about the magic of Saturday mornings another time). But I've realized that this year didn't feel new...didn't feel any different. Then I realized it. The difference has to begin within me. So, now I have a new perspective, a new way of looking at this year.

This year, I'm going to focus on my writing more...submit more articles, finish my first book, and start a second one. When I've let it rest a while, I'll begin the revision process on that first book. I will post blogs much more often, frequently. I will continue to transcribe my father's stories, and ask for more.

This year, I'm also going to FINISH my various UFOs (unfinished object-meaning craft project). I've already been working on that this year.

So, my new perspective is to see new opportunities in projects, in writings, in life. Come and follow my journey here.