Monday, September 30, 2013
The Best Creation Ever-You!
The Best Creation Ever--You!!
So many items have been created since I began my walk on this earth. Allow me to share some of them with you.
I remember my mother using a rubboard to wash our clothes when I was a child. She placed the board in a tub of water and then proceeded to scrub the clothes by rubbing them up and down on the rough surface. When she had them clean, she would rinse them in a tub of water, wring them by hand and then hang them out to dry. In the cold of winter or when it was raining, she would lay them over drying stands. But when it was nice outside, they were hung on the long clothes line. If it was freezing outside, so were the clothes on the line. Stiff clothes are not especially comfortable--especially underwear! The sweet smell of freshly dried laundry stays with me to this day. As time progressed and technology advanced, the automatic washer and dryer replaced the hard labor of keeping clothes clean.
When I was a child, our house was heated with a wood stove. The only warm rooms were the ones close to that stove. It was hard work to get the wood necessary for keeping us warm in winter. First, the tree had to be cut. Next, the wood had to be sawed into manageable chuncks, and finally, it was split and placed in a wood pile. As needed, it was carried into the house. Eventually furnaces were created. How lovely. Simply turn the dial for more or less heat, and all the rooms were comfortable. Much labor eliminated.
Of course, there is the telephone, the microwave, blueray, airconditioning, travel to space, and medical advances that have saved countless lives. We now have the ability to control so many diseases that were deadly in the past. Hard work and creativity working together have brought us to this more advanced state. I wish I could share my world with my great-grandparents. What would they think?
My life is easier in so many ways due to the creations of others. For that, I am grateful. The good old days were not romantic. They were difficult. I know. I lived then. I will take today over them any day.
Yet, with all the marvelous creations people have made, the very best and most precious creation is you. Yes, you. You came into the world a blank slate. You are the only you that will ever be. That is so different from a car. Every few years car manufacturers jazz up their new models in an attempt to lure us to make a purchase. And we often do just that. We like all the gadgets and controls.
But, humans come into this world the same way. Through birth. Sure, there is new technology for becoming pregnant. Whoever thought about freezing eggs?? When we decided we wanted a family, we were surprised to learn that it might never happen. Bodies don't always come equipped to produce babies. So, when we learned we were pregnant, it was the happiest day--until that little boy arrived!
Humans have the capacity to change the world. You have that capacity. You have the ability to alter the course of a life simply by being a friend. You can extend love every single day. You can listen to another human. You can share your own challenges. You can learn. The limit to what you can do is endless. You can laugh, cry, share joy. You can light up a room simply by entering it. You can hold a hand as death moves closer offering comfort and love. You can encourage a child or another adult. You can set a goal and move towards it. You have the ability to change course. If life is going downhill, you can set a new course. You can engage in meaningful work. You can love with no strings attached.
Yes, you are the best creation ever. You arrived on the planet ready to learn. You reached out those tiny hands and fingers and learned what felt good. You tasted life, and knew it was good. You recognized the smell of those who cared for you. You listened to sounds and reproduced them. Oh, how wonderful it is to be human.
New cars will come and go. Eventually, they will drive themselves. Each new generation will improve on the last one. Life will move forward. And so will humans. We will adapt and adjust to the newness of life. We will marvel at the changes that present themselves to us.
But, you are the most special in all of creation. You are the pearl of great price. You are the warmth when the world seems cold and distant. You are here for only a short time, but the good you can bring has the power to last for generations.
It is true--you are the best creation ever. Yes, you are.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
A Public Thank You
A Public Thank You--
This is a public Thank You Card.
Thank you to the person who has been using the +1 button on my blog. I am thrilled that someone wants to share what I write with others. Thank you again. When the +1 appeared, I had to do a little research to learn what it means.
If you think my blog is worth sharing, would you please +1 the blogs you enjoy? That means others will become aware of the blog.
Again, thank you, Dear Reader. Don't know who you are, but am humbled that you think my writing is worth sharing with those you know.
This is a public Thank You Card.
Thank you to the person who has been using the +1 button on my blog. I am thrilled that someone wants to share what I write with others. Thank you again. When the +1 appeared, I had to do a little research to learn what it means.
If you think my blog is worth sharing, would you please +1 the blogs you enjoy? That means others will become aware of the blog.
Again, thank you, Dear Reader. Don't know who you are, but am humbled that you think my writing is worth sharing with those you know.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Gifts We Can Give--No Money Required!
Gifts We Can Give--No Money Required!
It's a new day. The sun is shinning. The air has that lovely crispness to it--like biting into a big red apple. All is well at our house. At least until we begin putting up wallpaper. Sigh. Didn't I read somewhere that there is always quiet before the storm?:)
Today is full of possibilities. It is a gift. I will unwrap it a bit at a time so I can enjoy each part of it. Perhaps I will see someone who needs a lift. That will be one piece of the gift I open today. The gift of listening is one of the most needed gifts. I can use that gift today.
Should I run into a grumpy person, I will agree with them that life is terrible, and they are so right to feel down. Then I will open another part of the gift and engage them in conversation. Isn't it a lovely morning? How nice to have had a two day weekend. What wonderful thing are they hoping to acomplish today? It was so nice to spend a few minutes with you. That sort of thing.
I will smile at folks I meet in the grocery store or whatever store I visit. Sometimes a simple smile is like a gift. Who knows what type of morning they experienced. Maybe they need someone to smile at them. Another piece of the gift given away.
Emails will post to my computer. Should one share a need, I will say a prayer and then decide what I can do to help. That might mean I send a reply, I write a "thinking of you" card, I take a bouquet of flowers. Don't know what will be needed, but it will be evident within the email that there is a need. If I can help, I will. There goes another part of my gift.
There is an entire day in front of me. This day I will not allow negative thoughts to invade my thinking no matter how hard they work to take center stage. I will visit with people in a positive manner. They are entitled to grace. I shall give that. I love that word--grace. It speaks to my soul. Extending grace is another part of the gift. It shall remain with me. This is something I can give over and over.
Do you see this day as a gift? I sincerely hope you do. This day will never return. It will be a memory in twenty-four hours. When you look back at this day, what would you like to see? What would I like to see? The choice is truly ours.
There are more sections of my gift to open. As the day unfolds, I shall take other parts of the gift and offer it to others. Today I truly want my life to make a difference. I know that challenges will appear out of the fog of the day. But, I also know that I can walk through that fog into the bright sunshine.
Join me, won't you?
It's a new day. The sun is shinning. The air has that lovely crispness to it--like biting into a big red apple. All is well at our house. At least until we begin putting up wallpaper. Sigh. Didn't I read somewhere that there is always quiet before the storm?:)
Today is full of possibilities. It is a gift. I will unwrap it a bit at a time so I can enjoy each part of it. Perhaps I will see someone who needs a lift. That will be one piece of the gift I open today. The gift of listening is one of the most needed gifts. I can use that gift today.
Should I run into a grumpy person, I will agree with them that life is terrible, and they are so right to feel down. Then I will open another part of the gift and engage them in conversation. Isn't it a lovely morning? How nice to have had a two day weekend. What wonderful thing are they hoping to acomplish today? It was so nice to spend a few minutes with you. That sort of thing.
I will smile at folks I meet in the grocery store or whatever store I visit. Sometimes a simple smile is like a gift. Who knows what type of morning they experienced. Maybe they need someone to smile at them. Another piece of the gift given away.
Emails will post to my computer. Should one share a need, I will say a prayer and then decide what I can do to help. That might mean I send a reply, I write a "thinking of you" card, I take a bouquet of flowers. Don't know what will be needed, but it will be evident within the email that there is a need. If I can help, I will. There goes another part of my gift.
There is an entire day in front of me. This day I will not allow negative thoughts to invade my thinking no matter how hard they work to take center stage. I will visit with people in a positive manner. They are entitled to grace. I shall give that. I love that word--grace. It speaks to my soul. Extending grace is another part of the gift. It shall remain with me. This is something I can give over and over.
Do you see this day as a gift? I sincerely hope you do. This day will never return. It will be a memory in twenty-four hours. When you look back at this day, what would you like to see? What would I like to see? The choice is truly ours.
There are more sections of my gift to open. As the day unfolds, I shall take other parts of the gift and offer it to others. Today I truly want my life to make a difference. I know that challenges will appear out of the fog of the day. But, I also know that I can walk through that fog into the bright sunshine.
Join me, won't you?
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Selecting a Paint Color-A Nightmare!
Selecting a Paint Color--A Nightmare!
I like my car. She and I go places every day. Today was no exception.
Today was the day to paint the newly remodeled bathroom/utility room. I was up early. Put on painting clothes, covered the floor with old bed sheets, gathered all the painting tools and opened the can of paint. Hum......it looked a bit darker today than it did yesterday. No problem. I was sure it would blend nicely with all the colors in the stone.
Stone is interesting. Since it comes from the earth, it is not a solid color. That fact makes stone a bit challenging when selecting a coordinating paint color. The colors vary just enough to make the choice difficult. Do I bring out the lighter or darker colors in the stone? I decided on the darker.
So, coffeed up and ready to go, I opened the can of paint, poured it in the tray and loaded the roller. I felt a little loaded myself as I had prepared well for this day with a venti skinny vanilla latte and a doughnut. Looking at the wall in front of me, I knew this would be an easy morning. All I had to do was roll that lovely paint on the wall. Magic! The room would glow with this rich color, and I would be a happy woman.
Placing the roller on the wall, I began. Well, that first drag down the wall did not reveal what I had expected. The paint did not evenly place itself on that wall. Ok. Easy fix. More paint and another roll. Didn't help much. But, it was early in the painting process. It would get better. Anyway, that is what I told myself. About that time I decided I needed a diet coke. Things weren't going as I had expected.
I asked my roommate to take a look. He was not impressed with the paint. Not my painting--but the paint. He didn't think it would get any better. Well, that meant only one thing. One of us had to hit the road and find another color.
Walking into the store I told myself I would find the right paint in a quick minute. Holding a sample of my stone, I walked to the paint section and began pulling out color samples. Man! This was hard. Nothing worked. I must have pulled twenty color cards from that huge wall of paint samples. Even asked a person behind the counter what she thought. That didn't turn out well. Eventually I found three samples that I thought had possibilities. Bought the small jars of those colors and went home.
Long story short--they didn't work. Now we had to prime the walls again. Holy Cow! This is turning into a nightmare. Since none of those worked, it was back to the store. A different store this time. With stone in hand, I once again made my way to the paint section. Could someone help me? By this time I had lost confidence in my ability to select the right color for my bathroom. A few minutes later I exited the store with four more sample jars of paint. Back at home it was time to try these four colors. After discussion we decided on one. I don't think it is exactly right, but it will do.
So, back to town for a gallon of paint. I actually made five trips into town today to find the right paint. That is ten times up and down the road. It was getting dark by the time I arrived with the almost perfect gallon of paint. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. But for now, I am totally exhausted. All the driving has worn me out. I am sure my car is panting for breath hoping I am in for good.
She would be right. Who would have thought selecting paint could be so challenging.
I like my car. She and I go places every day. Today was no exception.
Today was the day to paint the newly remodeled bathroom/utility room. I was up early. Put on painting clothes, covered the floor with old bed sheets, gathered all the painting tools and opened the can of paint. Hum......it looked a bit darker today than it did yesterday. No problem. I was sure it would blend nicely with all the colors in the stone.
Stone is interesting. Since it comes from the earth, it is not a solid color. That fact makes stone a bit challenging when selecting a coordinating paint color. The colors vary just enough to make the choice difficult. Do I bring out the lighter or darker colors in the stone? I decided on the darker.
So, coffeed up and ready to go, I opened the can of paint, poured it in the tray and loaded the roller. I felt a little loaded myself as I had prepared well for this day with a venti skinny vanilla latte and a doughnut. Looking at the wall in front of me, I knew this would be an easy morning. All I had to do was roll that lovely paint on the wall. Magic! The room would glow with this rich color, and I would be a happy woman.
Placing the roller on the wall, I began. Well, that first drag down the wall did not reveal what I had expected. The paint did not evenly place itself on that wall. Ok. Easy fix. More paint and another roll. Didn't help much. But, it was early in the painting process. It would get better. Anyway, that is what I told myself. About that time I decided I needed a diet coke. Things weren't going as I had expected.
I asked my roommate to take a look. He was not impressed with the paint. Not my painting--but the paint. He didn't think it would get any better. Well, that meant only one thing. One of us had to hit the road and find another color.
Walking into the store I told myself I would find the right paint in a quick minute. Holding a sample of my stone, I walked to the paint section and began pulling out color samples. Man! This was hard. Nothing worked. I must have pulled twenty color cards from that huge wall of paint samples. Even asked a person behind the counter what she thought. That didn't turn out well. Eventually I found three samples that I thought had possibilities. Bought the small jars of those colors and went home.
Long story short--they didn't work. Now we had to prime the walls again. Holy Cow! This is turning into a nightmare. Since none of those worked, it was back to the store. A different store this time. With stone in hand, I once again made my way to the paint section. Could someone help me? By this time I had lost confidence in my ability to select the right color for my bathroom. A few minutes later I exited the store with four more sample jars of paint. Back at home it was time to try these four colors. After discussion we decided on one. I don't think it is exactly right, but it will do.
So, back to town for a gallon of paint. I actually made five trips into town today to find the right paint. That is ten times up and down the road. It was getting dark by the time I arrived with the almost perfect gallon of paint. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow. But for now, I am totally exhausted. All the driving has worn me out. I am sure my car is panting for breath hoping I am in for good.
She would be right. Who would have thought selecting paint could be so challenging.
Finding Our Center
Finding Our Center--
What's in the center is an interesting concept. Let's take a look at "the center."
Those lovely chocolate cookies with cream filling in the center are a favorite of everyone. Add a glass of milk to a stack of those delicious cookies, and you have magic. How about lettuce, tomato and bacon between two slice of toast? Each of those ingredients are great eaten alone, but when the lettuce, tomato and bacon find themselves in the center, they create a bit of heaven. Or what about sitting between two friends at a great movie? Being in the center means you get to visit with both when you should be quiet! Ah--being in the center is a great place to be. Always?
Many things find themselves in the center, don't they? Even people. We can be the center of attention, the center of a conflict, the center of an issue. We find ourselves taking sides about things that are important to us which means we move from the center. People who are trained as negotiators try to bring people to the center--to see their way out of a challenging position. Thank goodness, they are often successful.
So, the center is a concept we are all familiar with in our lives.
But, what centers us? What holds us to our beliefs? What keeps us moving along a path that leads to more success than failure? What brings us to our knees? What touches us at our deepest place? What helps us make choices that are good for us? To whom do we turn when life hurts? When we need to find ourselves, where is that center? When we move away from our center, what enables us to return?
The answers to those questions are unique to each of us. What centers me may not center you at all. Maybe faith brings us to our center. A good friend who speaks the truth in love may help us find that center again. I am speaking about a trusted friend, not one who has an agenda that might not be in our best interest. Perhaps meditation where we learn to quiet ourselves is the place we find that center. Nature has great power to teach us what is important. Maybe nature centers some people.
I find it difficult sometimes to find my center. We are bombarded with disasters, killings, war, budgets, people who cannot or will not compromise, self-centered people. And that is the short list. Finding my peaceful center amid the noise of the world takes real effort. Sometimes it is overwhelming.
And then I see people I love so much, and I know my center is in their love. I am centered when my family chooses to spend time with me. I am centered when I have lunch with a friend. I am centered when I listen to another person. I am centered when I move outside myself to see the good in others. I am centered when I sit in worship and allow peace and joy to fill my heart.
Our center--What we decide to place in that special spot will determine much about our lives.
What's in the center is an interesting concept. Let's take a look at "the center."
Those lovely chocolate cookies with cream filling in the center are a favorite of everyone. Add a glass of milk to a stack of those delicious cookies, and you have magic. How about lettuce, tomato and bacon between two slice of toast? Each of those ingredients are great eaten alone, but when the lettuce, tomato and bacon find themselves in the center, they create a bit of heaven. Or what about sitting between two friends at a great movie? Being in the center means you get to visit with both when you should be quiet! Ah--being in the center is a great place to be. Always?
Many things find themselves in the center, don't they? Even people. We can be the center of attention, the center of a conflict, the center of an issue. We find ourselves taking sides about things that are important to us which means we move from the center. People who are trained as negotiators try to bring people to the center--to see their way out of a challenging position. Thank goodness, they are often successful.
So, the center is a concept we are all familiar with in our lives.
But, what centers us? What holds us to our beliefs? What keeps us moving along a path that leads to more success than failure? What brings us to our knees? What touches us at our deepest place? What helps us make choices that are good for us? To whom do we turn when life hurts? When we need to find ourselves, where is that center? When we move away from our center, what enables us to return?
The answers to those questions are unique to each of us. What centers me may not center you at all. Maybe faith brings us to our center. A good friend who speaks the truth in love may help us find that center again. I am speaking about a trusted friend, not one who has an agenda that might not be in our best interest. Perhaps meditation where we learn to quiet ourselves is the place we find that center. Nature has great power to teach us what is important. Maybe nature centers some people.
I find it difficult sometimes to find my center. We are bombarded with disasters, killings, war, budgets, people who cannot or will not compromise, self-centered people. And that is the short list. Finding my peaceful center amid the noise of the world takes real effort. Sometimes it is overwhelming.
And then I see people I love so much, and I know my center is in their love. I am centered when my family chooses to spend time with me. I am centered when I have lunch with a friend. I am centered when I listen to another person. I am centered when I move outside myself to see the good in others. I am centered when I sit in worship and allow peace and joy to fill my heart.
Our center--What we decide to place in that special spot will determine much about our lives.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Flying Down the Stairs
Flying Down the Stairs--
That particular day I decided to wear a pair of pumps with rather high heels. Not my usual attire for a day at work, but this pair of shoes were simply the perfect complement to my outfit. No matter that I would be on my feet all day. It was much more important that my look was together. So I slipped these perfect shoes on and started down the stairs.
Thirteen stairs make up this stairwell. At the bottom of the stairs is a coat closet. I took the first step. The next steps were made in the air as I tumbled head over heels down those twelve steps landing with my lovely pumps high in the air over my head. How I wish I could have seen that happening. Would have been a perfect sight gag. When I completed the tumbling and came in for a landing, I was resting against the closet doors with my feet high in the air. Even now I get tickled at the picture that must have been. The long, dark scrapes told me where my feet met the door--high over my head. Even through all of that tumbling, the shoes remained firmly on my feet.
Righting myself required a bit of manuvering. Especially since the outfit I selected to wear that day had a pencil skirt. You know, the kind that fits rather tightly. Once upright, I examined everything-including every bone in my body. There were no tears in the skirt, and my heels were not damaged. But it was very clear to me that by day's end muscles would be screaming in pain. I took a tentative step to be sure nothing was broken--like a foot or leg. Everything functioned properly so I walked through the kitchen, grabbed my purse and headed for work.
We left the marks on the closet doors for a long time. Seeing them reminded me to carry high heels down the stairs. No need to tempt fate twice.
That particular day I decided to wear a pair of pumps with rather high heels. Not my usual attire for a day at work, but this pair of shoes were simply the perfect complement to my outfit. No matter that I would be on my feet all day. It was much more important that my look was together. So I slipped these perfect shoes on and started down the stairs.
Thirteen stairs make up this stairwell. At the bottom of the stairs is a coat closet. I took the first step. The next steps were made in the air as I tumbled head over heels down those twelve steps landing with my lovely pumps high in the air over my head. How I wish I could have seen that happening. Would have been a perfect sight gag. When I completed the tumbling and came in for a landing, I was resting against the closet doors with my feet high in the air. Even now I get tickled at the picture that must have been. The long, dark scrapes told me where my feet met the door--high over my head. Even through all of that tumbling, the shoes remained firmly on my feet.
Righting myself required a bit of manuvering. Especially since the outfit I selected to wear that day had a pencil skirt. You know, the kind that fits rather tightly. Once upright, I examined everything-including every bone in my body. There were no tears in the skirt, and my heels were not damaged. But it was very clear to me that by day's end muscles would be screaming in pain. I took a tentative step to be sure nothing was broken--like a foot or leg. Everything functioned properly so I walked through the kitchen, grabbed my purse and headed for work.
We left the marks on the closet doors for a long time. Seeing them reminded me to carry high heels down the stairs. No need to tempt fate twice.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Decks
Decks--
Decks are such lovely places. Decks give a home a welcoming look. If there is a shade tree, a sofa and chair provide a peaceful place to spend a few minutes each day simply enjoying home. Often pots of flowers adorn decks. Their cheerful colors contrast nicely with the wood of the deck.
We have six colorful hummingbird feeders extended from our deck. Hummingbirds visit all day long. How fun when multiple hummers visit the feeders at the same time. Soon they will depart for their long journey south. It simply amazes me that these tiny creatures have the ability to fly such long distances. We welcome their return in late spring.
A table and chairs make a great spot for breakfast, lunch and/or dinner. Drinking the morning cup of coffee while reading the newspaper is another activity around the table. When company visits, eating on the deck at the table is a lovely way to spend time with friends while also enjoying nature. Yes, decks serve so many purposes.
Today I wanted to spend a few quiet minutes on our deck. I chose a very comfortable chair as my quiet spot. Looking to my left I could enjoy huge flower pots, the fireplace, green grass, our garden and roses blooming. Looking to the right I saw two toilets, one sink, a cabinet, a washer and a dryer. Now, which direction would you like best??
If I walked to my right past all the toilets and such, I would run into a huge saw and stacks of stones. Yes, the work on the bathroom remodel is almost complete. It is getting a bit exciting as this project is winding down. I think by this weekend we will be allowed to move all of the "deck decorations" back into the house. But, until then I get a bit tickled at the toilets setting beside the sofa. Guess they could provide a place to sit...
Next week when we remove the flowers, the deck will look lonely. I know many of you love fall. While I enjoy the cooler temperatures, it marks the beginning of a long stretch of brown dirt and bare trees. To me that is a tiny bit depressing. All the colors will soon be gone, and we will move into the time of year when our part of the earth rests. I suppose that is a good thing for nature. For me it is a bit sad. I miss the colors of spring and summer. I miss the flowers that smile at me when I water them each day. I miss watching the birds build nests and babies take their first flight. I miss the fresh tomatoes from the garden.
And I miss sitting on my decks simply enjoying life.
Decks are such lovely places. Decks give a home a welcoming look. If there is a shade tree, a sofa and chair provide a peaceful place to spend a few minutes each day simply enjoying home. Often pots of flowers adorn decks. Their cheerful colors contrast nicely with the wood of the deck.
We have six colorful hummingbird feeders extended from our deck. Hummingbirds visit all day long. How fun when multiple hummers visit the feeders at the same time. Soon they will depart for their long journey south. It simply amazes me that these tiny creatures have the ability to fly such long distances. We welcome their return in late spring.
A table and chairs make a great spot for breakfast, lunch and/or dinner. Drinking the morning cup of coffee while reading the newspaper is another activity around the table. When company visits, eating on the deck at the table is a lovely way to spend time with friends while also enjoying nature. Yes, decks serve so many purposes.
Today I wanted to spend a few quiet minutes on our deck. I chose a very comfortable chair as my quiet spot. Looking to my left I could enjoy huge flower pots, the fireplace, green grass, our garden and roses blooming. Looking to the right I saw two toilets, one sink, a cabinet, a washer and a dryer. Now, which direction would you like best??
If I walked to my right past all the toilets and such, I would run into a huge saw and stacks of stones. Yes, the work on the bathroom remodel is almost complete. It is getting a bit exciting as this project is winding down. I think by this weekend we will be allowed to move all of the "deck decorations" back into the house. But, until then I get a bit tickled at the toilets setting beside the sofa. Guess they could provide a place to sit...
Next week when we remove the flowers, the deck will look lonely. I know many of you love fall. While I enjoy the cooler temperatures, it marks the beginning of a long stretch of brown dirt and bare trees. To me that is a tiny bit depressing. All the colors will soon be gone, and we will move into the time of year when our part of the earth rests. I suppose that is a good thing for nature. For me it is a bit sad. I miss the colors of spring and summer. I miss the flowers that smile at me when I water them each day. I miss watching the birds build nests and babies take their first flight. I miss the fresh tomatoes from the garden.
And I miss sitting on my decks simply enjoying life.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Cell Phone Conversation
Cell Phone Conversation--
As I was walking into the bookstore this morning, I noticed a woman huddled against the wall of the store talking on her cell phone. I appreciate people who exit public buildings to have private conversations. Honestly, I don't want to listen to private conversations. Especially when I am trying to enjoy a magazine or book.
It is impossible to "not hear" conversations. So, I heard her say she was frustrated. Things were out of control, and there was nothing she could do about it. All of that before I could pull the door open and enter.
It made me think about that control thing. We delude ourselves into believing we are in control of our lives. Actually, nothing could be further from the truth. Today people died because someone took a gun and fired shots. People who were simply going about the business of living- working to make their lives and the lives of those they loved better. There was no warning that everything in their world was totally out of their control. Someone with a very different agenda took control of lives for a little bit of time. And in that short amount of time, lives changed forever.
I am mad. Mad that people even think about taking another person's life because they are unhappy. Mad that social services are not available to people in need of them. Mad that those innocent people didn't get the opportunity to say goodbye to those who love them. Mad because it makes not one bit of sense to me to take a gun and randomly fire at people. What is going on in this world?
Can't think about this anymore tonight. But, I need to think long and hard about what I can do to make this world a safer place for everyone.
As I was walking into the bookstore this morning, I noticed a woman huddled against the wall of the store talking on her cell phone. I appreciate people who exit public buildings to have private conversations. Honestly, I don't want to listen to private conversations. Especially when I am trying to enjoy a magazine or book.
It is impossible to "not hear" conversations. So, I heard her say she was frustrated. Things were out of control, and there was nothing she could do about it. All of that before I could pull the door open and enter.
It made me think about that control thing. We delude ourselves into believing we are in control of our lives. Actually, nothing could be further from the truth. Today people died because someone took a gun and fired shots. People who were simply going about the business of living- working to make their lives and the lives of those they loved better. There was no warning that everything in their world was totally out of their control. Someone with a very different agenda took control of lives for a little bit of time. And in that short amount of time, lives changed forever.
I am mad. Mad that people even think about taking another person's life because they are unhappy. Mad that social services are not available to people in need of them. Mad that those innocent people didn't get the opportunity to say goodbye to those who love them. Mad because it makes not one bit of sense to me to take a gun and randomly fire at people. What is going on in this world?
Can't think about this anymore tonight. But, I need to think long and hard about what I can do to make this world a safer place for everyone.
My Second Home--Not What You Think!
My Second Home--Not What You Think!
I left my house this morning searching for a little peace. Anyone else ever need a dose of that?
My car is a great place for quiet. No interruptions once I close the door and start the engine. Just my car and I heading no place in particular. We are best friends, that car and I. We spend quite a bit of quality time together. The best thing about spending time with my car is she never disagrees with my thoughts. I can sing along with the radio if I wish, or sing by myself. Often I talk out loud while I am driving. This allows me to actually hear what my thoughts are when they meet the air outside my head. Gives me a little better insight into what others might hear. Also gives me the opportunity to clean up my act.
It could be--not saying it is, just saying it could be--that on occasion an unkind utterance leaves my body and arrives in the air that surrounds me. I have actually been a little surprised at times with my own words. But, that time in my car gives me the chance to work through issues that bother me. I can work out the frustrations of the day as I drive along.
A few times people in cars next to me at stop lights have glanced over and seen me talking away. Since they see no one else in the car, I can only guess what they are thinking. Matters not to me what they think. I know that this car and I will figure out all the important, pressing issues of the day before I come to a stop. By the time I exit the car, my mind will be less cluttered, and I will be more able to function in an intelligent manner.
My wheels are like my second home. Many people have an actual second home. I have my car. She is my second home. I eat, drink, talk, cry, observe, sleep, write, laugh in her. Cleaning her is so easy. A simple vaccume and a swipe with a damp cloth is all the housecleaning needed to keep her looking great. Once in awhile we drive through the car wash so she looks her absolute best. That is the least I can do for her.
She does everything for me. By hitting a button I know how much gas I have left in the tank. The outside temperature keeps me informed. The compass makes sure I am heading in the right direction. If I want to know how many miles per gallon she is getting, I push the button again. And so on. She heats and cools my seat so I am always comfortable. What a friend she is. She gives and gives and never once have I heard her ask for anything in return. Wow!
Today I needed some time to myself. There she was--waiting for me to open the door. I like to think she shivers with excitement and anticipation when I sit down and start the engine. She knows she is going on an adventure with me. Her best friend in all the world.
We took a drive today--just the two of us. We will do that again tomorrow. And probably the day after that. Because we are best friends, and we enjoy one another's company. Yes, we do.
I left my house this morning searching for a little peace. Anyone else ever need a dose of that?
My car is a great place for quiet. No interruptions once I close the door and start the engine. Just my car and I heading no place in particular. We are best friends, that car and I. We spend quite a bit of quality time together. The best thing about spending time with my car is she never disagrees with my thoughts. I can sing along with the radio if I wish, or sing by myself. Often I talk out loud while I am driving. This allows me to actually hear what my thoughts are when they meet the air outside my head. Gives me a little better insight into what others might hear. Also gives me the opportunity to clean up my act.
It could be--not saying it is, just saying it could be--that on occasion an unkind utterance leaves my body and arrives in the air that surrounds me. I have actually been a little surprised at times with my own words. But, that time in my car gives me the chance to work through issues that bother me. I can work out the frustrations of the day as I drive along.
A few times people in cars next to me at stop lights have glanced over and seen me talking away. Since they see no one else in the car, I can only guess what they are thinking. Matters not to me what they think. I know that this car and I will figure out all the important, pressing issues of the day before I come to a stop. By the time I exit the car, my mind will be less cluttered, and I will be more able to function in an intelligent manner.
My wheels are like my second home. Many people have an actual second home. I have my car. She is my second home. I eat, drink, talk, cry, observe, sleep, write, laugh in her. Cleaning her is so easy. A simple vaccume and a swipe with a damp cloth is all the housecleaning needed to keep her looking great. Once in awhile we drive through the car wash so she looks her absolute best. That is the least I can do for her.
She does everything for me. By hitting a button I know how much gas I have left in the tank. The outside temperature keeps me informed. The compass makes sure I am heading in the right direction. If I want to know how many miles per gallon she is getting, I push the button again. And so on. She heats and cools my seat so I am always comfortable. What a friend she is. She gives and gives and never once have I heard her ask for anything in return. Wow!
Today I needed some time to myself. There she was--waiting for me to open the door. I like to think she shivers with excitement and anticipation when I sit down and start the engine. She knows she is going on an adventure with me. Her best friend in all the world.
We took a drive today--just the two of us. We will do that again tomorrow. And probably the day after that. Because we are best friends, and we enjoy one another's company. Yes, we do.
Sunday, September 15, 2013
The Painted Toenails
The Painted Toenails--
Shopping. There is an interesting subject. We can shop for clothes, shoes, linens, dishes, pans, cars, hot tubs, flowers, fingernail polish, art work, jewelry, toys, hair products. The list is truly endless. And within each of those categories are subcategories. We could honestly spend our entire lives shopping. How depressing is that!
There are times when we must shop. When the pantry shelves are empty, it is time to buy those food items we use each week. When spring arrives after a long, cold winter, we shop for those plants and flowers that will give our homes a lift. Children love to shop for toys. Each toy they see needs to be touched. They are happy to do that job. Over time our cars wear out so car shopping becomes a necessity. Different folks enjoy different types of shopping.
Personally, I don't enjoy shopping. I go only when I need a certain item. Even then I go to only the places where I am sure I might find what I need. Shopping for shopping's sake is not my cup of tea. The idea of a personal shoppper has great appeal to me.
However, there are times when shopping cannot be avoided. This was one of those times even though I have no clue now what the purpose for the trip was. At some point during the trip, I needed to visit the ladies room. That is the label on the door of this particular bathroom--Ladies Room. This bathroom had sinks on two sides of the room. Lovely touch. Large mirrors and shelves. Evidently a woman did the design. Each toilet was in its own little room. Walls touched the ceiling. There was a built-in shelf for packages or purses. Great finishing touches.
While the tops of the walls reached the ceiling, the bottom of each wall had a small open space. Just enough for one woman to pass toilet paper under should that need arrive. I selected my little room, entered, locked the door, placed my items on the shelf and went about my business.
At some point I looked down at the floor. That is when a huge smile overtook my face. Here is what I saw that made me smile. On the floor in the next stall were two feet wearing open toe sandals. That is not unusual. What was unusual was the big toe of each foot wearing those sandals was painted with a white flower, stem and leaves. It was beautiful. The painting was done so that those looking at her toe saw the flower right-side-up. The green stem and leaves were artfully painted to look as real as possible. Whoever owned those feet had style! She enjoyed being a little artsy. No doubt she received many comments about those flower painted toenails. Bet she smiled at each comment.
She was out the door before I had the opportunity to speak with her. It was fun to imagine who she was, and what she was like as a person. I imagined her to have a great sense of humor and a bright smile. I wondered if she painted a different scene on her toenails each time she had a pedicure. Did she do that herself? Maybe she had the design idea and shared that with the person who did the actual painting.
I did not expect to be delighted that day. My intent was to take care of the shopping as soon as possible. One stop along the way brought giggles. That speaks volumes. Her self-expression reminded me that we are all capable of bringing smiles to others everyday. It is not always necessary to speak to bring joy. Simply by being ourselves and engaging others, we have the ability to brighten a rather ordinary day. We don't have to have all the answers to life's questions to be helpful. Her toes did not answer one question I had that day. What did happen was my own attitude shifted. It became lighter.
So, when you are out shopping, be prepared for anything. You never know when you will be delighted. Even in a ladies restroom!
Shopping. There is an interesting subject. We can shop for clothes, shoes, linens, dishes, pans, cars, hot tubs, flowers, fingernail polish, art work, jewelry, toys, hair products. The list is truly endless. And within each of those categories are subcategories. We could honestly spend our entire lives shopping. How depressing is that!
There are times when we must shop. When the pantry shelves are empty, it is time to buy those food items we use each week. When spring arrives after a long, cold winter, we shop for those plants and flowers that will give our homes a lift. Children love to shop for toys. Each toy they see needs to be touched. They are happy to do that job. Over time our cars wear out so car shopping becomes a necessity. Different folks enjoy different types of shopping.
Personally, I don't enjoy shopping. I go only when I need a certain item. Even then I go to only the places where I am sure I might find what I need. Shopping for shopping's sake is not my cup of tea. The idea of a personal shoppper has great appeal to me.
However, there are times when shopping cannot be avoided. This was one of those times even though I have no clue now what the purpose for the trip was. At some point during the trip, I needed to visit the ladies room. That is the label on the door of this particular bathroom--Ladies Room. This bathroom had sinks on two sides of the room. Lovely touch. Large mirrors and shelves. Evidently a woman did the design. Each toilet was in its own little room. Walls touched the ceiling. There was a built-in shelf for packages or purses. Great finishing touches.
While the tops of the walls reached the ceiling, the bottom of each wall had a small open space. Just enough for one woman to pass toilet paper under should that need arrive. I selected my little room, entered, locked the door, placed my items on the shelf and went about my business.
At some point I looked down at the floor. That is when a huge smile overtook my face. Here is what I saw that made me smile. On the floor in the next stall were two feet wearing open toe sandals. That is not unusual. What was unusual was the big toe of each foot wearing those sandals was painted with a white flower, stem and leaves. It was beautiful. The painting was done so that those looking at her toe saw the flower right-side-up. The green stem and leaves were artfully painted to look as real as possible. Whoever owned those feet had style! She enjoyed being a little artsy. No doubt she received many comments about those flower painted toenails. Bet she smiled at each comment.
She was out the door before I had the opportunity to speak with her. It was fun to imagine who she was, and what she was like as a person. I imagined her to have a great sense of humor and a bright smile. I wondered if she painted a different scene on her toenails each time she had a pedicure. Did she do that herself? Maybe she had the design idea and shared that with the person who did the actual painting.
I did not expect to be delighted that day. My intent was to take care of the shopping as soon as possible. One stop along the way brought giggles. That speaks volumes. Her self-expression reminded me that we are all capable of bringing smiles to others everyday. It is not always necessary to speak to bring joy. Simply by being ourselves and engaging others, we have the ability to brighten a rather ordinary day. We don't have to have all the answers to life's questions to be helpful. Her toes did not answer one question I had that day. What did happen was my own attitude shifted. It became lighter.
So, when you are out shopping, be prepared for anything. You never know when you will be delighted. Even in a ladies restroom!
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Let's Turn It Around
Let's Turn It Around--
You know what? It is never too late to turn it all around. If anything you are doing in life is not what you should be doing, stop. Yes, stop. Life is way too short to continue in the wrong direction. The longer you wait, the less time you will have to travel in the right direction.
Sounds so easy. Why is it that everything that is good for us is so hard to do? For instance, let's take exercise. We all know it is good for us. On a more personal note, I envision myself walking briskly along a lovely path on a warm, sunny day. Everything in my world is right. And it is all because I am out exercising. My mind is clearer, my body stronger and my weight is slowly decreasing. That is the picture my mind sends to me when I watch someone else exercising. Those folks out exercising seem so dedicated. Their clothes are perfect. Right pants, right tops, right shoes and socks. Headbands are perfect for the rest of the look. The pony tail is flipping back and forth with each step. In each ear is a gadget that sends the music of choice directly to the brain keeping the one listening on track. It is absolutely perfect. I love to watch it. From a bench. In the shade. Gosh! They look amazing.
And then I wake up from the dream that will never be my reality. My reality looks more like an old lady with a pair of cut-offs and oversized shirt walking at a moderate speed. No pony tail. Short hair does not move much in the breeze. An ipod with old songs and some classical piano. Maybe a little symphony thrown in. But here is the thing--we are all out doing it our way. Isn't that great?
The wrong direction looks different for each of us. We may have a worn path to the fridge. Would that be a wrong direction? We may have a favorite chair to watch tv most of the day. Could that be a wrong direction? I don't know what your wrong direction looks like, but my wrong direction is really many directions. It is way past time to clean up my act and set some new courses. Actually, it sounds rather like fun. I like change, and change is exactly what is needed to get me off this course I am on.
So, let's talk about moving our lives in the right direction. The direction that will bring us more peace, more joy and more love and hard bodies! Let's look at all choices and decide we are worth the work of the best direction. Yep, it will be difficult to adjust our lives to better choices. But remember-- everything and everyone is on our side. That's pretty big. We are not alone as we struggle to travel in that new direction.
What do you need to turn around? What is callling your name? What is gently shoving you in a new direction? Why are you hesitating? Why am I? Time is ticking away.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
You know what? It is never too late to turn it all around. If anything you are doing in life is not what you should be doing, stop. Yes, stop. Life is way too short to continue in the wrong direction. The longer you wait, the less time you will have to travel in the right direction.
Sounds so easy. Why is it that everything that is good for us is so hard to do? For instance, let's take exercise. We all know it is good for us. On a more personal note, I envision myself walking briskly along a lovely path on a warm, sunny day. Everything in my world is right. And it is all because I am out exercising. My mind is clearer, my body stronger and my weight is slowly decreasing. That is the picture my mind sends to me when I watch someone else exercising. Those folks out exercising seem so dedicated. Their clothes are perfect. Right pants, right tops, right shoes and socks. Headbands are perfect for the rest of the look. The pony tail is flipping back and forth with each step. In each ear is a gadget that sends the music of choice directly to the brain keeping the one listening on track. It is absolutely perfect. I love to watch it. From a bench. In the shade. Gosh! They look amazing.
And then I wake up from the dream that will never be my reality. My reality looks more like an old lady with a pair of cut-offs and oversized shirt walking at a moderate speed. No pony tail. Short hair does not move much in the breeze. An ipod with old songs and some classical piano. Maybe a little symphony thrown in. But here is the thing--we are all out doing it our way. Isn't that great?
The wrong direction looks different for each of us. We may have a worn path to the fridge. Would that be a wrong direction? We may have a favorite chair to watch tv most of the day. Could that be a wrong direction? I don't know what your wrong direction looks like, but my wrong direction is really many directions. It is way past time to clean up my act and set some new courses. Actually, it sounds rather like fun. I like change, and change is exactly what is needed to get me off this course I am on.
So, let's talk about moving our lives in the right direction. The direction that will bring us more peace, more joy and more love and hard bodies! Let's look at all choices and decide we are worth the work of the best direction. Yep, it will be difficult to adjust our lives to better choices. But remember-- everything and everyone is on our side. That's pretty big. We are not alone as we struggle to travel in that new direction.
What do you need to turn around? What is callling your name? What is gently shoving you in a new direction? Why are you hesitating? Why am I? Time is ticking away.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Almost Arrested
Almost Arrested--
This really happened several years ago. I could not make this up.
My husband and I were spending some time in a state in the Northwest. It was early summer. The weather was perfect. Bright sunshine and mild temperatures. Large fluffy clouds moved lazily across the sky. It was also the time of year when beautiful strawberries were ripe for the picking.
On this particular day my husband, a friend and I decided to visit a you-pick strawberry field. We took her car. She had a small white car with a hatchback which was just right for hauling berries home. We found the strawberry field, took containers and began the backbreaking work of picking. Naturally, I wanted to pick the biggest ones. Who doesn't? The sign at the patch told everyone to pick all berries on the chosen row. Well, I tried to do that. But, I must confess that I didn't do exactly what the sign said to do.
We picked until we had enough for strawberry shortcake, strawberries on ice cream and cereal. We had a wonderful time. After paying for our berries, we started back to our house. That is when the real adventure began.
We were riding along in her car. My husband was in the backseat, I was in the passenger seat and she was driving. My friend has had many speeding tickets and more than her share of accidents. One of those accidents landed me in the hospital for a week. But, that is another story. We were laughing and talking enjoying the lovely day. She commented that she was going to drive the speed limit as she didn't want anymore tickets.
As we were approaching a traffic light, she saw a police car setting beside the road. We all knew why it was there. It was waiting for some poor person who was not paying attention to speed or who might run the light. We even commented about her speed, and that she had plenty of time to legally make the light.
Immediately after we crossed under the light, the police car pulled in behind her and turned on the lovely lights. We were stunned. She was very upset. What had she done wrong? She pulled to the side of the road and waited for what would happen next.
Looking in the rearview mirror, she noticed the policeman was walking to the passenger side of her car. My side. That was a little different, but it was a two-lane road. Perhaps he was concerned about being hit by a passing car. I sometimes notice officers visiting with people they have stopped from the passenger side of cars. So, maybe this wasn't so unusual.
He approached my side with his hand on his gun. It was still in the holster, but his hand rested on it. He stayed just a distance away from the window on my side. I had already rolled the window down in anticipation of a conversation. But, his instruction was a bit baffling. He told me to open the door slowly. What was that about? Sure, I would be glad to do that. He continued to stand a bit away from the door.
As the door opened, he watched very closely and intently. He examined me, the floor, the door. Everything on my side of the car. He asked where we were heading and where we had been. He spoke to me. I told him we had been strawberry picking. He was welcome to take a look in the back. The berries were there. He said that he didn't need to do that because he believed me.
And then I asked what the problem was. We could not believe our ears at the story he told us.
Evidently we had met a vehicle driving in the opposite direction. The driver thought he saw the passenger in the white car he was meeting, me, holding a gun on the driver. What??? That driver phoned the police and reported what he saw. The policeman hurried to the stoplight and sat waiting for us to drive by. Once he identified the little white car with two women in the front and a man in the back, he knew it was the one.
I told him I saw his hand on his gun and wondered what was wrong. He said that if I had a gun, he would have to be ready for anything! Me! With a gun! He said it was obvious that the driver in the approaching car had made a terrible mistake. We talked for a bit and as we talked, I told him that I was making a point to my friend and pointed my finger in the air. Maybe that is what the person saw. I suppose from a distance my finger could look like a gun. He said he was relieved that it was nothing. He had been very nervous wondering what situation he might be walking into.
We all had a good laugh, and my friend recovered from the shock of being stopped again. Soon we resumed our journey.
I have thought often about that incident. The driver in the approaching car was right to report what he thought was an abduction. The police officer did the right thing when he did a thorough investigation of my side of the car being sure everything was as it should be. My friend did a good thing when she obeyed all traffic laws.
And I learned to keep my hands in my lap and make my point with my voice!! (The strawberry shortcake was delicious!:)
This really happened several years ago. I could not make this up.
My husband and I were spending some time in a state in the Northwest. It was early summer. The weather was perfect. Bright sunshine and mild temperatures. Large fluffy clouds moved lazily across the sky. It was also the time of year when beautiful strawberries were ripe for the picking.
On this particular day my husband, a friend and I decided to visit a you-pick strawberry field. We took her car. She had a small white car with a hatchback which was just right for hauling berries home. We found the strawberry field, took containers and began the backbreaking work of picking. Naturally, I wanted to pick the biggest ones. Who doesn't? The sign at the patch told everyone to pick all berries on the chosen row. Well, I tried to do that. But, I must confess that I didn't do exactly what the sign said to do.
We picked until we had enough for strawberry shortcake, strawberries on ice cream and cereal. We had a wonderful time. After paying for our berries, we started back to our house. That is when the real adventure began.
We were riding along in her car. My husband was in the backseat, I was in the passenger seat and she was driving. My friend has had many speeding tickets and more than her share of accidents. One of those accidents landed me in the hospital for a week. But, that is another story. We were laughing and talking enjoying the lovely day. She commented that she was going to drive the speed limit as she didn't want anymore tickets.
As we were approaching a traffic light, she saw a police car setting beside the road. We all knew why it was there. It was waiting for some poor person who was not paying attention to speed or who might run the light. We even commented about her speed, and that she had plenty of time to legally make the light.
Immediately after we crossed under the light, the police car pulled in behind her and turned on the lovely lights. We were stunned. She was very upset. What had she done wrong? She pulled to the side of the road and waited for what would happen next.
Looking in the rearview mirror, she noticed the policeman was walking to the passenger side of her car. My side. That was a little different, but it was a two-lane road. Perhaps he was concerned about being hit by a passing car. I sometimes notice officers visiting with people they have stopped from the passenger side of cars. So, maybe this wasn't so unusual.
He approached my side with his hand on his gun. It was still in the holster, but his hand rested on it. He stayed just a distance away from the window on my side. I had already rolled the window down in anticipation of a conversation. But, his instruction was a bit baffling. He told me to open the door slowly. What was that about? Sure, I would be glad to do that. He continued to stand a bit away from the door.
As the door opened, he watched very closely and intently. He examined me, the floor, the door. Everything on my side of the car. He asked where we were heading and where we had been. He spoke to me. I told him we had been strawberry picking. He was welcome to take a look in the back. The berries were there. He said that he didn't need to do that because he believed me.
And then I asked what the problem was. We could not believe our ears at the story he told us.
Evidently we had met a vehicle driving in the opposite direction. The driver thought he saw the passenger in the white car he was meeting, me, holding a gun on the driver. What??? That driver phoned the police and reported what he saw. The policeman hurried to the stoplight and sat waiting for us to drive by. Once he identified the little white car with two women in the front and a man in the back, he knew it was the one.
I told him I saw his hand on his gun and wondered what was wrong. He said that if I had a gun, he would have to be ready for anything! Me! With a gun! He said it was obvious that the driver in the approaching car had made a terrible mistake. We talked for a bit and as we talked, I told him that I was making a point to my friend and pointed my finger in the air. Maybe that is what the person saw. I suppose from a distance my finger could look like a gun. He said he was relieved that it was nothing. He had been very nervous wondering what situation he might be walking into.
We all had a good laugh, and my friend recovered from the shock of being stopped again. Soon we resumed our journey.
I have thought often about that incident. The driver in the approaching car was right to report what he thought was an abduction. The police officer did the right thing when he did a thorough investigation of my side of the car being sure everything was as it should be. My friend did a good thing when she obeyed all traffic laws.
And I learned to keep my hands in my lap and make my point with my voice!! (The strawberry shortcake was delicious!:)
Saturday, September 7, 2013
What Makes a House a Home?
What Makes a House a Home?
Our bathroom remodel began in May. It is September. Not completed yet. Enough said.
Today I dragged laundry from the dryer to another room to fold. I was watching HGTV while I was folding. On this particular program a main level was being redone completely in three days. THREE DAYS! As I looked at the laundry spread out over my sofa, my blood began to boil--just slightly! Where is my laundry room? The one where I can fold and iron-if I ever decide to do that chore.
At that moment all I could see were the faults of this house. And there certainly are faults. We have spent over 30 years redoing, redoing, redoing. Each time we complete one project, we know we have to start another. The bathroom will be the last one--ever! Except maybe connect my shop to the house??
As the remodel project on tv droned on and on, I finished the folding, put items in their appointed place and took the basket back to the washer/dryer. Ready for the next round of folding. By that time I was a little calmer. Maybe this isn't such a bad place to live after all, I thought. What?? Am I giving in to my softer side? No, just recognizing that I have a home.
Recently we have begun attending open houses. I love to see how rooms are put together. Love to feel the flow. And I think it would be great to move into a house that needed nothing but decorating. Maybe one that even has a laundry room. Lovely thought.
Meanwhile, back to reality. I suppose every house has its own set of challenges. Some just more than others.
A question popped into my mind. Does a laundry room make a house a home? When I thought about it like that, it seemed a goofy question. No, it doesn't. It simply makes it an easier place to do the everyday chores that have to be done. So, what does make a house a home?
How about memories? How about times shared? How about all the love that fills each room? How about all the people who have come and gone through the front doors? How about all the tears shared when sorrow filled the rooms? How about decisions made that would change the course of lives? How about arguments that ended in a way through or around a challenging situation? How about holidays? How about decorated Christmas trees? How about fires in the fireplace on a cold evening? How about the smell of chocolate chip cookies wafting through the rooms calling the family to a special treat? Yes, how about? How about all those times the house was filled with teens working on musicals or plays or whatever?
Yes, I would like a shiny new home. I would enjoy an open flow of rooms. It would be great to have large rooms to design small intimate areas for conversation or reading. In my mind's eye, that looks so wonderful. But, that new house would hold no memories. It would not have any paint chipping from door frames where we moved the furniture one more time. It probably wouldn't have a huge yard for kids to hit soft balls or tennis balls or have a treasure hunt.
Then again, memories are made day by day. Hopefully, there is lots of time to create new memories. I like that idea. And I like the idea of a laundry room.
Take the clean clothes out, put them on the folding table, fold away!! Just like on tv.
Our bathroom remodel began in May. It is September. Not completed yet. Enough said.
Today I dragged laundry from the dryer to another room to fold. I was watching HGTV while I was folding. On this particular program a main level was being redone completely in three days. THREE DAYS! As I looked at the laundry spread out over my sofa, my blood began to boil--just slightly! Where is my laundry room? The one where I can fold and iron-if I ever decide to do that chore.
At that moment all I could see were the faults of this house. And there certainly are faults. We have spent over 30 years redoing, redoing, redoing. Each time we complete one project, we know we have to start another. The bathroom will be the last one--ever! Except maybe connect my shop to the house??
As the remodel project on tv droned on and on, I finished the folding, put items in their appointed place and took the basket back to the washer/dryer. Ready for the next round of folding. By that time I was a little calmer. Maybe this isn't such a bad place to live after all, I thought. What?? Am I giving in to my softer side? No, just recognizing that I have a home.
Recently we have begun attending open houses. I love to see how rooms are put together. Love to feel the flow. And I think it would be great to move into a house that needed nothing but decorating. Maybe one that even has a laundry room. Lovely thought.
Meanwhile, back to reality. I suppose every house has its own set of challenges. Some just more than others.
A question popped into my mind. Does a laundry room make a house a home? When I thought about it like that, it seemed a goofy question. No, it doesn't. It simply makes it an easier place to do the everyday chores that have to be done. So, what does make a house a home?
How about memories? How about times shared? How about all the love that fills each room? How about all the people who have come and gone through the front doors? How about all the tears shared when sorrow filled the rooms? How about decisions made that would change the course of lives? How about arguments that ended in a way through or around a challenging situation? How about holidays? How about decorated Christmas trees? How about fires in the fireplace on a cold evening? How about the smell of chocolate chip cookies wafting through the rooms calling the family to a special treat? Yes, how about? How about all those times the house was filled with teens working on musicals or plays or whatever?
Yes, I would like a shiny new home. I would enjoy an open flow of rooms. It would be great to have large rooms to design small intimate areas for conversation or reading. In my mind's eye, that looks so wonderful. But, that new house would hold no memories. It would not have any paint chipping from door frames where we moved the furniture one more time. It probably wouldn't have a huge yard for kids to hit soft balls or tennis balls or have a treasure hunt.
Then again, memories are made day by day. Hopefully, there is lots of time to create new memories. I like that idea. And I like the idea of a laundry room.
Take the clean clothes out, put them on the folding table, fold away!! Just like on tv.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Balcony People in Our Lives
Balcony People in Our Lives--
So many people to thank and so little time to get that job done!
When I think back over my life, I see lines and lines of people who have paved the way for me to reach particular goals. I see people giving me a slight push to try a new thing. One woman in particular comes into my mind.
Fay was a college instructor. When she learned that I was a teacher, she began a mission. That mission was graduate school. For me. We had discussions about that many times. I guess she finally realized that she needed to take matters into her own hands, and she did. The packet was larger than the rest of the mail we received that day. It was an application to graduate school. She took the time to put it all together for me. So, I filled it out, returned it and began classes. Thank you, Fay.
Moving to a new city and state can be stressful especially when you move in January. We did that years go. One car, a baby and cold, cold days and nights became the new normal in Normal. We knew finding a church home was important. We visited many churches before making the decision. Not long after we began attending, I received a phone call from a woman I had never met. She invited me to a women's Sunday school class. That simple act was all it took for a wonderful friendship to form. Thank you, Sylvia.
Nancy delivers our mail. Sometimes she stops in for a brief visit. Sometimes we are the bathroom break house. Tickled about that. It reminds me to keep the bathroom clean. She not only carries the mail, but she also brings sunshine into the lives of the people on her route. She cares for each and every one of us. And we all love her. Thank you, Nancy.
One of my sisters is a trusted friend. I know if I am troubled, she will listen and help me. We have taken trips together, laughed together, cried together. We encourage one another. We live many miles apart but visit often using cells, texts and emails. I am blessed to have her in my life. Thank you, Barbara.
The list goes on and on. All of these people are my balcony peope. Have you read that book? Balcony People. Part of the book talks about this great balcony that forms a circle above us. On that balcony, leaning over shouting encouragement, are all the people who love us. Some have died, some live close to us, some live far away. It matters not where they are. What matters is they continue shouting at us to do that next thing. They tell us we are worthy of greatness. They smile when we accomplish that one big thing we have been working to achieve. It's not about the number of folks in the balcony, it about the love sent our way by even one. The cool thing is we are in the balcony of others. We are there when we encourage someone. We are in that balcony when we care. When we love.
Have you thought about all those folks who paved your way? Who gave silently so that you could achieve? Who walked the tough walks of life quietly with you? Of course you have. It is good to remember each person who touched your life. But, I think there is one more step to be taken.
Have you taken the time to thank them for being with you in all the ups and downs of life? Have I? You know what--there is time to let others know how much we appreciate them. Right now there is time. Let's do this together. This will only take a few minutes a day.
It could look like this. Using email, a note or a call, let's get in touch with one person a day. Tell them how they have made our life better. How we value them. I know this. If we could see their faces, we would know how much those words we share mean to them. Why have we waited this long, anyway??
Being grateful gives us a softness that brings others in. Being grateful changes our attitude.
Ready? Go!!
So many people to thank and so little time to get that job done!
When I think back over my life, I see lines and lines of people who have paved the way for me to reach particular goals. I see people giving me a slight push to try a new thing. One woman in particular comes into my mind.
Fay was a college instructor. When she learned that I was a teacher, she began a mission. That mission was graduate school. For me. We had discussions about that many times. I guess she finally realized that she needed to take matters into her own hands, and she did. The packet was larger than the rest of the mail we received that day. It was an application to graduate school. She took the time to put it all together for me. So, I filled it out, returned it and began classes. Thank you, Fay.
Moving to a new city and state can be stressful especially when you move in January. We did that years go. One car, a baby and cold, cold days and nights became the new normal in Normal. We knew finding a church home was important. We visited many churches before making the decision. Not long after we began attending, I received a phone call from a woman I had never met. She invited me to a women's Sunday school class. That simple act was all it took for a wonderful friendship to form. Thank you, Sylvia.
Nancy delivers our mail. Sometimes she stops in for a brief visit. Sometimes we are the bathroom break house. Tickled about that. It reminds me to keep the bathroom clean. She not only carries the mail, but she also brings sunshine into the lives of the people on her route. She cares for each and every one of us. And we all love her. Thank you, Nancy.
One of my sisters is a trusted friend. I know if I am troubled, she will listen and help me. We have taken trips together, laughed together, cried together. We encourage one another. We live many miles apart but visit often using cells, texts and emails. I am blessed to have her in my life. Thank you, Barbara.
The list goes on and on. All of these people are my balcony peope. Have you read that book? Balcony People. Part of the book talks about this great balcony that forms a circle above us. On that balcony, leaning over shouting encouragement, are all the people who love us. Some have died, some live close to us, some live far away. It matters not where they are. What matters is they continue shouting at us to do that next thing. They tell us we are worthy of greatness. They smile when we accomplish that one big thing we have been working to achieve. It's not about the number of folks in the balcony, it about the love sent our way by even one. The cool thing is we are in the balcony of others. We are there when we encourage someone. We are in that balcony when we care. When we love.
Have you thought about all those folks who paved your way? Who gave silently so that you could achieve? Who walked the tough walks of life quietly with you? Of course you have. It is good to remember each person who touched your life. But, I think there is one more step to be taken.
Have you taken the time to thank them for being with you in all the ups and downs of life? Have I? You know what--there is time to let others know how much we appreciate them. Right now there is time. Let's do this together. This will only take a few minutes a day.
It could look like this. Using email, a note or a call, let's get in touch with one person a day. Tell them how they have made our life better. How we value them. I know this. If we could see their faces, we would know how much those words we share mean to them. Why have we waited this long, anyway??
Being grateful gives us a softness that brings others in. Being grateful changes our attitude.
Ready? Go!!
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
A Grandma's Deception!
A Grandma's Deception--
It was the holiday season. The bell ringers were outside a store happily ringing away. On this particular day my granddaughter was my companion. She was preschool.
As we exited the store, she asked why they were ringing the bells. I explained that they were there to receive money that would be used to help people who needed a little assistance with food and gifts for their families. I handed her some money and told her to drop it in the pot. She did.
And then the deceiving began. How does one justify deceiving a small innocent child! I will tell you how. Immediately after dropping the money in the pot, she asked where the food was. And where were the gifts for the children?
I tried to explain the process, but it was evident it made no sense so I made up a little story. Just a little story that was meant to help her understand.
Then she wanted to know the names of the children who would get gifts because of the money she dropped into the pot. So I said Ben and Sally. You have to remember--everything was coming at me at lightening speed. How old were they, she asked. Well, they were seven and nine. Where were they now? In school, I said. What grade? Sally was in first grade and Ben in third. Where were their parents? At work, I said. If they were at work, why didn't they have money to buy gifts for Ben and Sally? Well, they had bills to pay and there simply wasn't enough money. Where did they go to school?
At that point we were passing by a school, so I said that particular school. The kids were outside playing. Must have been recess. So, which ones of them were Ben and Sally? I looked very closely as we drove by and then said I didn't see them. Too many children.
Finally, there was quiet in my car. I thought we were finished with this little deception. It was an honest one, you know. But, soon it began again. Maybe we should buy some toys and take them to the school for Ben and Sally. These imaginary children had become close friends by then. Surely we could help them have a happy Christmas.
So, we drove to a toy store and purchased appropriate toys for Ben and Sally. Then we took them to the school. How was I going to pull this off, I wondered? Once we were buzzed inside, I gave our names and why we were there. We had toys for Ben and Sally. As I said this, I winked at the woman on the other side of the counter. She said Ben and Sally were in class, but she would see that they received the gifts.
Quite pleased with our mission, we returned to our journey. Would you believe we did that same thing the next year? She did not forget. Each time we took gifts, the secretary treated her with such respect. She made her feel as if she had done something wonderful. She had.
Maybe two years passed. One day, quite out of the blue, she asked me if Ben and Sally really existed. I told her the truth. We laughed at the way the story unfolded and how the school received lovely gifts for the children thanks to her caring spirit.
It pays to be fast on your feet!!:)
It was the holiday season. The bell ringers were outside a store happily ringing away. On this particular day my granddaughter was my companion. She was preschool.
As we exited the store, she asked why they were ringing the bells. I explained that they were there to receive money that would be used to help people who needed a little assistance with food and gifts for their families. I handed her some money and told her to drop it in the pot. She did.
And then the deceiving began. How does one justify deceiving a small innocent child! I will tell you how. Immediately after dropping the money in the pot, she asked where the food was. And where were the gifts for the children?
I tried to explain the process, but it was evident it made no sense so I made up a little story. Just a little story that was meant to help her understand.
Then she wanted to know the names of the children who would get gifts because of the money she dropped into the pot. So I said Ben and Sally. You have to remember--everything was coming at me at lightening speed. How old were they, she asked. Well, they were seven and nine. Where were they now? In school, I said. What grade? Sally was in first grade and Ben in third. Where were their parents? At work, I said. If they were at work, why didn't they have money to buy gifts for Ben and Sally? Well, they had bills to pay and there simply wasn't enough money. Where did they go to school?
At that point we were passing by a school, so I said that particular school. The kids were outside playing. Must have been recess. So, which ones of them were Ben and Sally? I looked very closely as we drove by and then said I didn't see them. Too many children.
Finally, there was quiet in my car. I thought we were finished with this little deception. It was an honest one, you know. But, soon it began again. Maybe we should buy some toys and take them to the school for Ben and Sally. These imaginary children had become close friends by then. Surely we could help them have a happy Christmas.
So, we drove to a toy store and purchased appropriate toys for Ben and Sally. Then we took them to the school. How was I going to pull this off, I wondered? Once we were buzzed inside, I gave our names and why we were there. We had toys for Ben and Sally. As I said this, I winked at the woman on the other side of the counter. She said Ben and Sally were in class, but she would see that they received the gifts.
Quite pleased with our mission, we returned to our journey. Would you believe we did that same thing the next year? She did not forget. Each time we took gifts, the secretary treated her with such respect. She made her feel as if she had done something wonderful. She had.
Maybe two years passed. One day, quite out of the blue, she asked me if Ben and Sally really existed. I told her the truth. We laughed at the way the story unfolded and how the school received lovely gifts for the children thanks to her caring spirit.
It pays to be fast on your feet!!:)
Monday, September 2, 2013
What Matters
What Matters--
Tom was my second grade student. He was the cutest little boy. Lots of hair and a sweet, sweet smile. His mom was also a teacher so we had much in common.
Shortly after Tom moved to the next grade, my husband accepted a transfer to the Midwest. Life began again. New job, new baby, new friends, new environment. And the years slipped away as years do.
Eventually my love for the Northwest necessitated purchasing a condo in a city close to Tom's hometown. The condo was unfurnished. On a trip to buy furniture, I remembered there had been a store in Tom's hometown. Driving into the town was like returning home. I taught second grade for five years there. So many children--so many memories.
I located the store. First on my list was a refrigerator. An older gentleman asked if I needed help. I most certainly did. I needed more help than I thought when he asked what size I needed. Refrigerators came in sizes?? Small? Medium? Large? Never thought about that. It was apparent I would have to return to the condo and measure. I told him I would call him with the size and then told him my name.
From a distance I remember seeing a younger man moving a chair. When I said my name, he put the chair down and walked toward me. He asked if he heard correctly. Was I Sondra Wisdom? Well, yes, I was and am! He said he had wondered what had happened to me after we left the area. He gave me a hug and said he was Tom. Tom, my little second grade student all grown up and the owner of the furniture store. Thirty years or so had passed since I last saw him.
What a happy reunion. He told me that I had invited he and his mom to our home for dinner. He even described the furniture in our house. He asked if I remembered that he always kissed my hand as he left the classroom each day. As he shared, floods of memories that I had tucked away in my mind came pouring out. He said he knew my husband's name, and that I had a son before we were transferred.
Since that first meeting in his store, we have had several lovely visits. He is a delightful man. Is there a point to this essay? Am I simply wandering down memory lane at your expense?
Yes, there are several points. First, we don't realize the impact we have on others. He identified with my slightly off-center personality. He saw me as a caring teacher who took time with him. I don't think it ever entered my mind in those early years of teaching just how much of an impact teachers have on the students who occupy those chairs. Students see teachers through their own lens. We either make a lasting impression in a positive/negative way, or we make no impression at all.
Second, while test scores are important, we must remember that we teach people. It is my one desire that we never forget this. To this day not one former student has ever contacted me to thank me for their test score. However, many have contacted me to visit as adult friends. It has been my joy to sing at weddings for students, my sorrow to sing and speak at funerals, my intense delight to be a birth partner. One student even called me from jail. Those moments visiting with him are precious moments to me.
I have been privileged to share deep conversations, silly times, coffee, lunch, emails and calls with students. What joy for me to be included in a small part of their lives. Learning about their lives brings me such pleasure. And I am happy to say that most are quite successful adults.
Eventually, those students graduate and begin the next passage of their life. Now they are no longer forced to listen to us in a classroom. Maybe they are running the x-ray machine we are under. Or maybe one will repair the car that is causing stress. Another may check skin for cancer cells. Or make sure the hair cut is just perfect. No one stays a child forever. It is a short passage of time.
Tom made sure the furniture I selected fit my condo perfectly. He took time to help me measure and plan where pieces would best fit. And while I appreciate his help and expertise, I cherish him as a person--all grown up from that little seven-year old student. I feel blessed beyond words that his memories of me were good ones for him.
It truly does matter how we treat others--in and out of the classroom. It matters how we greet strangers, how we treat those we love, how we respect views different from ours. It matters that we work toward making this world a better place. Yes, it really does matter that we are alive. Even when we feel that we are only a speck in a big sea of sand, we must remember that that sand is made of individual specks. We are part of something so huge. And we do matter.
Meeting Tom after all those years was a wonderful gift. Each time we visit, I enjoy him more.
Love you, Tom!
Tom was my second grade student. He was the cutest little boy. Lots of hair and a sweet, sweet smile. His mom was also a teacher so we had much in common.
Shortly after Tom moved to the next grade, my husband accepted a transfer to the Midwest. Life began again. New job, new baby, new friends, new environment. And the years slipped away as years do.
Eventually my love for the Northwest necessitated purchasing a condo in a city close to Tom's hometown. The condo was unfurnished. On a trip to buy furniture, I remembered there had been a store in Tom's hometown. Driving into the town was like returning home. I taught second grade for five years there. So many children--so many memories.
I located the store. First on my list was a refrigerator. An older gentleman asked if I needed help. I most certainly did. I needed more help than I thought when he asked what size I needed. Refrigerators came in sizes?? Small? Medium? Large? Never thought about that. It was apparent I would have to return to the condo and measure. I told him I would call him with the size and then told him my name.
From a distance I remember seeing a younger man moving a chair. When I said my name, he put the chair down and walked toward me. He asked if he heard correctly. Was I Sondra Wisdom? Well, yes, I was and am! He said he had wondered what had happened to me after we left the area. He gave me a hug and said he was Tom. Tom, my little second grade student all grown up and the owner of the furniture store. Thirty years or so had passed since I last saw him.
What a happy reunion. He told me that I had invited he and his mom to our home for dinner. He even described the furniture in our house. He asked if I remembered that he always kissed my hand as he left the classroom each day. As he shared, floods of memories that I had tucked away in my mind came pouring out. He said he knew my husband's name, and that I had a son before we were transferred.
Since that first meeting in his store, we have had several lovely visits. He is a delightful man. Is there a point to this essay? Am I simply wandering down memory lane at your expense?
Yes, there are several points. First, we don't realize the impact we have on others. He identified with my slightly off-center personality. He saw me as a caring teacher who took time with him. I don't think it ever entered my mind in those early years of teaching just how much of an impact teachers have on the students who occupy those chairs. Students see teachers through their own lens. We either make a lasting impression in a positive/negative way, or we make no impression at all.
Second, while test scores are important, we must remember that we teach people. It is my one desire that we never forget this. To this day not one former student has ever contacted me to thank me for their test score. However, many have contacted me to visit as adult friends. It has been my joy to sing at weddings for students, my sorrow to sing and speak at funerals, my intense delight to be a birth partner. One student even called me from jail. Those moments visiting with him are precious moments to me.
I have been privileged to share deep conversations, silly times, coffee, lunch, emails and calls with students. What joy for me to be included in a small part of their lives. Learning about their lives brings me such pleasure. And I am happy to say that most are quite successful adults.
Eventually, those students graduate and begin the next passage of their life. Now they are no longer forced to listen to us in a classroom. Maybe they are running the x-ray machine we are under. Or maybe one will repair the car that is causing stress. Another may check skin for cancer cells. Or make sure the hair cut is just perfect. No one stays a child forever. It is a short passage of time.
Tom made sure the furniture I selected fit my condo perfectly. He took time to help me measure and plan where pieces would best fit. And while I appreciate his help and expertise, I cherish him as a person--all grown up from that little seven-year old student. I feel blessed beyond words that his memories of me were good ones for him.
It truly does matter how we treat others--in and out of the classroom. It matters how we greet strangers, how we treat those we love, how we respect views different from ours. It matters that we work toward making this world a better place. Yes, it really does matter that we are alive. Even when we feel that we are only a speck in a big sea of sand, we must remember that that sand is made of individual specks. We are part of something so huge. And we do matter.
Meeting Tom after all those years was a wonderful gift. Each time we visit, I enjoy him more.
Love you, Tom!
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