Long Hollow

A Rich Inheritance (Happy Father's Day!)

Friday my mother thought Daddy was having a stroke. She's seen enough of them to recognize the symptoms in him.

He wouldn't let her call an ambulance, so she called my sister, who in turn called me en route to their house. 

The kids and I already had plans to leave early yesterday morning to celebrate Father's Day with Daddy. I hoped we wouldn't be visiting him in the hospital, instead.

With my sister's next call, the relief in her voice soothed my worries. Daddy's blood pressure had already dropped and he seemed okay. She would stick around a little while, but didn't see a need to call an ambulance. Thank you, Lord!

So yesterday we were able to celebrate Daddy with lunch at Applebee's, just as he requested, and then hang out with him and Mama in my childhood home, talking around the kitchen table, dozing in front of the television...

...and giving thanks every single second.

We'll head home early today so the kids can spend time with their dad, too.

I'm wishing Tom's Pop a happy Father's Day in my heart. I can still hear his voice echoing in my mind. I hope it never fades away.

My heart goes out to his sons who are missing him so much today, this first Father's Day without him, wishing they could give him a call and tell him "I love you".

So I'll give mine an extra hug and "I love you" for them, and for all of you who are missing your fathers today.

In honor of Father's Day, I gave Daddy a print-out of "Why I'm My Father's Daughter". I'm re-posting it here. I'm so honored that it was chosen for "Best Lessons from Dad" - a slideshow on Huffpost 50 of posts about fathers. Hop over there and see what other daughters had to say about their fathers.

 

If Daddy answers the phone when I call my parents, our conversation is a quick one.

"I can't talk," he'll complain. 

"You sound fine to me," I'll tell him. 

"What? I can't hear you. Here's your mother."

And that's that.

Strokes have taken their toll on his vocal chords. The effort to speak is too much for him and his voice gives out after just a few words. Perhaps his hearing loss can be blamed on strokes, too. (Although hearing aids could help with that. Sigh.)

But he was never one to talk much, anyway, and especially not on the phone. If I wanted or needed to talk, I went to my mother. I could talk to her about anything, and I'm very grateful for that.

 

Daddy and I communicated in other ways, though. We teased each other and toured old houses. We fought over who was going to mow the yard.

He chauffeured me and my friends to the movies and high school basketball games before I got my license. He taught me how to drive, and tried to teach me how to play golf and be a better bowler...without much luck.

Instead, I tagged along with him on the golf course, satisfied to watch him and admire the beauty of the courses. We took road trips to visit his mother, traveling along the back highways with the windows down, stopping often to visit historical sites or other interesting places that caught my eye or his.

We square-danced.

 

 

But words still formed our greatest connection. I was seven, maybe eight, when I uttered that inevitable childhood chant: "I'm bored." 

 "Bored? Here, read this," he said, handing me an old, mildewed copy ofBlack Beauty, "You'll never be bored again."

Well, I'm not sure if those were his exact words, but they should have been. I was hooked, and as long as I've had something handy to read (and I try to make sure I do), I've never been bored again. 

Besides Anna Sewell's Black Beauty - and hence, every horse book I could get my hands on - Daddy got me hooked on historical fiction via James Michener and Leon Uris. It's still my first love.

He also introduced me to Leon Hale and his Texas-flavored, rambling, memoirish columns in the Houston Post (and then the Chronicle)...the inspiration for my own personal essays and blog posts, I'm sure. I still read his columns online.

Because of Daddy, I surround myself with books, and I'm partial to old ones.

I read our ancient copies of Black Beauty, Call of the Wild, Daddy-Long-Legs, and A Girl of the Limberlost over and over and over, and to this day the smell of a musty book takes me miles away in my mind to those stories.

When I enter an antique store, I head straight for the book section. Not to buy, necessarily, but just to breathe, feel, and say Hello, you're not forgotten.

Our house overflowed in paperbacks, too, though. Daddy always had one in his metal lunchbox, usually a Louis L'Amour, and when I followed in his steel-toed-shoe footsteps years later, I always carried a paperback with me to work.

Today neither of us consumes books like we used to. Daddy reads the morning newspaper, but then turns his attention to the television when he's not doing laundry or other household chores.

I'm always somewhere in a just-for-fun book, but it takes me forever to finish them, only cracking them open to read while I eat lunch. When I'm at home. And don't have something else I have to read.

But all of those books and words and voices still bind us, and despite the miles between us, and the words we cannot say, I feel him with me every time I open a book. 

Thank you, Daddy.

 

 

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance. 

~Ruth E. Renkel

Tom and I don't have a lot of money, yet we are blessed with riches, thanks to our fathers.

Happy Father's Day to all of you who fills the role of father to someone!

 

Goodnight, Tuesday (and kids, stay in school!)

I said goodnight to Tuesday out on the porch. As I rubbed Belle's belly, the sun slipped below the horizon, leaving a smudge of orange above the trees.

I'm almost ashamed to tell you I wasn't sad to see it go. Despite my vow to not wish time away, to be grateful for every minute, blah, blah, blah...I've struggled to hang on to my smile today. First thing this morning I got an email letting me know the job I'd been crossing my fingers AND toes for since March wasn't available after all. 

It was a writing job. One where I could finally put all of my experience at the chemical plant to good use, doing what I love, and get paid to visit my parents in Houston for a week or more each month, instead of having to take off work to go. Paid well enough to get us out of debt, I should add.

A friend tried to help me out, but she just couldn't get that door open. This is where a degree in English or Journalism would have come in real handy. Years and years and years of creative writing and newspaper reporting just didn't cut it.

I guess the big lesson is, if I had stuck with Chemical Engineering, if I hadn't dropped out, I wouldn't be writing this right now.

Of course, if I hadn't been a total stay-at-home mom, devoted to volunteering and only working part-time jobs for the past twenty years, I wouldn't be writing this, either. 

  Although, honestly, I don't really regret those decisions or feel they were wrong.

My email inbox tried to cheer me up. These were the two quotes-of-the-day I received:

Trust the past to the mercy of God, the present to his love, and the future to his providence.

~ St. Augustine

and

Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus.

~ 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Another coincidence was a book Tom brought back to me from his mom: Basket of Blessings, 31 Days to a More Grateful Heart, by Karen O'Connor. I glanced through it this morning. It reminded me of my collection of sweet!s, although she digs a little deeper about what we can be grateful for.

This one made me really stop and think:

We can be grateful for pain: the death of a loved one, divorce, or illness...each a gift in its own way if we take time to see it.

I was still pondering that when I received the email, which for me heralded the death of a dream, of a glimmer of hope and help for my family, and smashed my self-confidence.

So I've spent the day praying for a grateful heart, thinking of those poor people in Oklahoma who have been hit so hard just recently and reminding myself of all the blessings in my life.

For starters, I was able to walk my puppies just as the sun rose on a clear summer sky, to run with healthy legs and heart and lungs on my treadmill, to shower with hot water, to drive in my car to a job in a beautiful location where I work with nice people and get to meet others.

But it's not a career. It's part-time. It's fun in a way, but I've learned all there is to learn. It's not going to evolve into something else. And it's definitely not enough money. 

So I'll keep searching, keep trying to adapt my eclectic work and volunteer experience into the requirements and explain why I don't need a college degree to do the job, of wondering if I'm perceived as too old to learn anything or start a career. 

But not tonight. To paraphrase Sister Golden Hair..."...I tried to make it Tuesday, but I got so damn depressed, that I set my sights on Wednesday and I got myself undressed."

Goodnight, Tuesday. No hard feelings?

 

Fifteen Years Ago Tomorrow Morning...

 

 

"Life's about changing, nothing ever stays the same." ~

Patty Loveless, "How Can I Help You To Say Goodbye"

That Memorial Day weekend in 1998 was one of the best we'd ever had. We had laughed with friends and danced to Johnny Dee and the Rocket 88's. Spent a glorious day swimming in a private stretch of the pristine San Marcos River with our kids and friends. 

We were young and happy and blessed, living in Paradise in the Texas Hill Country, preparing to build our dream home. We thought the tough times were behind us. 

But fifteen years ago tomorrow morning, the phone woke me.  A nurse on the other end let me know Tom was lucky to be alive. He was in Brackenridge Hospital, preparing for surgery. She urged me to get there as fast as possible.

It had only taken a split second for us to be pushed along paths we didn't want to travel. Our lives changed. We ourselves changed.

But then, that's what journeys do to you, and what is Life but one long journey? How dull a trip would be if the scenery always stayed the same. Unfortunately, on every trip, there's good scenery and there's bad scenery.

The potential for change is constant. Some of it we have control over. Big decisions like dropping out of college. Getting married. Having children. Moving to a new town.

But even little ones can trigger huge changes. Having one more drink. Angry words you can't take back. An opportunity you let slip by without grabbing it. Saying "yes" when you should say "no", or the other way around.

Perhaps it's unfair that we can't control what other people do, even though their decisions can send us reeling. We didn't know the kid who hit Tom head-on that morning, but even if we did, we couldn't have stopped him from making one bad decision after another.

All we can really do is pray for guidance in our own decisions and be sure they are rooted in love, with a desire that God's will be done.

We can't waste our time worrying about the changes ahead of us. All we can do when the road turns unexpectedly is what we did back then...count our blessings and carry on, noticing the beauty on the new path before us. Because it's there.

When you find it, don't take it for granted, thinking it will be there forever. Relish it, cherish it, soak it up, because, after all, life's about changes. It can be no other way.

Happy 15th anniversary of your second chance, Tom!

Through the ups and down that have been, and the inevitable ones to come,
remember my love is constant.

Five Things from La-La Land

Linking with A Rural Journal's Random 5 Friday 

 

1. 

 

This card, full of words of love and encouragement and inspiration, waited for me in the mailbox earlier this week, a precious gift from my friend Rae. 

How could I not share them with you, because the words are true for all of us, aren't they? Take a minute to read them and believe them. You are very special.

Thank you again, sweet Rae!

 

2.

In a previous life, Jeannie was my kids' high school Spanish teacher. A few years ago she retired to follow her dream of becoming a missionary in Honduras through SAMSUSA.org.

I subscribe to her newsletters and in today's I found this note that made me really stop and think. I thought it was worth sharing with you, too...

 

Dear Mission Partners,

I’ve been thinking a lot about what we pray for. I hear so many people resolve their problems and say, Oh, if God would just.....let me pass the exam, give me the dream job I want.... everything would be good and I could handle it from there. We want Him to hand our desires to us and back off. We want the control back. We think we know what’s best for us. When he doesn’t answer our prayer we feel abandoned. God doesn’t care.

We often never consider that He has other plans for us, probably much better plans that we have concocted to solve our problems and make us happy. Usually he makes us wait for His plans and the waiting is very hard when we see our solution just within our grasp. The solution is so obvious! Why won’t He just give it to us?

His plans are so much more comprehensive than our solutions. We don’t see His huge map. Like Sara with Abraham, we tire of waiting and substitute our plans for His. But the true solution is His. What we have done in the meantime may only complicate things.

I’m pretty clear on what I want. I work toward it and pray I am in line with what He wants. But I am praying that His Will, not mine, be done. I am praying to be obedient. Because I know He’s in control. And I have found his plans to be much better than mine. For His Sake,

Jeannie 

Jeannie does amazing work there with the poverty-stricken, transporting children to doctor's visits, among tons of other things. If you're interested in donating to support her mission, send me an email and I'll send you hers.

 

3.

"If you're lost and alone...or you're sinking like a stone...carry on.
May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground. Carry on."

~ Fun

Speaking of inspiring and energizing things, Fun. was on the Today Show this morning. This song has been in my head all day. (I'm not complaining!)

 

 

4.

It rained all day today, and I didn't mind a bit because I had no where to go. That's one of the good things about not having a real job beyond writing and a fledgling photography company. (The bad thing about it is the lack of a paycheck, of course.)

Anyway, rain makes me pensive, so I flipped through a few of the journals where I noted details of our lives for about twenty-five years. 

There were some tough times, I'll tell you, but one thing I noticed was how I always ended with a positive note...using words like 'faith' and 'prayer' and 'blessings'. I remember some of those times vividly, the ache and the worry and the fogginess of the road ahead of us.

I love seeing it from this perspective, how the paths opened up and the sun came out again. I was reminded again that God has a plan, that he's got our backs, which is a helpful reminder right now when the road ahead has gone all foggy again.

Tom says I live in La-La Land, where there's always a silver lining and everything is hunky-dory. He says it like it's a bad thing.

But if we've prayed for God's guidance and truly trust him, how can we not think everything is hunky-dory, even if we can't see it from where we're standing at the moment?

 

 

5.

The proof of that hit home when I read through my notes written during my oldest son's heartwrenching high school years...and compare them to the joy and love I see on his face in the short video below of The. Most. Beautiful. Wedding. Ever. Amen. by amazing videographer Adam Grumbo. (I can't wait for the full video!) 

My prayers of so long ago have been answered. My mother-tears were not in vain.

(It takes a minute to buffer, so take my advice -  go grab a tissue while it loads...)

 

Happy Birthday, anyway, Tom!

When the rain started around 3 am, pounding on the house like we were under a giant faucet, Tom remembered he left his car windows down. A mad dash in the rain up the hill in the middle of the night isn't the greatest way to start your birthday. 

I think the worst of it came through our area just as he left for work. I prayed for his angels to stick close to him while he maneuvered the wet highways in his little Suzuki Samurai, trying not to think of another wet May morning in 1998 that changed our lives.

He'll be working late tonight (still catching up from those days off for the wedding) and so we have no special plans. Last night he met the boys for beer and pizza after work, though. His kind of celebration, for sure.

Before writing this, I glanced over some other posts I wrote in honor of his birthday. I had to shake my head when reading this in Grateful for #53:

So I wasn't surprised when I asked him what he wanted for his birthday and he said: "Don't get me anything. Just pay off the credit cards." 

I'm trying. I've made progress. Substantial progress. But it's a constant tug between needs, wants and finances, a battle we're intimately familiar with - we've been a mostly one-income family since soon after we married, when he quit work to go to college. We just switched places after our youngest was born. 

Now that we're Empty Nesters, I've doubled my "paid" hours. The catch is, without a college degree, my pay ... and my choices ... are limited. I try to make up for both - the pay and the fulfillment - with my writing. Blogging brings in a little bit of money; my play and my book, not so much ... yet. I joke that they're our retirement plan - once they're finished, I'll make a million dollars and we can both retire. But the only way that can happen is if I write, and the trick there is finding time to write. Between the 'paid' job and life, there's not much time left without dipping into my sleep, and when I skimp on sleep ... well, I'm back where I started, full circle: Tom worries. About me.

But I haven't given up. If being broke and juggling finances for years has taught me anything, it's to be creative and frugal. Being frugal just gets so tiring. But Tom's worth it. 

I feel bad that I won't be able to give him what he asked for this year, but I'll do my best for #54. I have a feeling he'll be asking for the same thing, anyway."

I shook my head because he still hasn't gotten this wish. But I haven't given up doing my part to see it come true by finding a job that will do more than slow the sinking. I know it's out there!

(Are you hiring? Contact me! I can do anything - seriously!)

Anyway, I'm wishing my dear husband sunshine on his birthday, even if it's only in his heart and not in the sky. A lightness and sense of hope that comes from faith. And I'm giving him all of my love, as always, and thanking God for letting me share my life with him for so long. 

Happy 56th birthday, Tom!

 

Rambling about Dogs, Children, and Butterflies

 

The sun still yawned under a light gray blanket this morning when the puppies and I headed out for our walk.

Josie, my grandpuppy, took the lead as usual; she's still excited about her visit to the country. Belle, my sweet companion, fell into step near me. She never strays too far from my side for long. Max lagged behind, probably worn out from trying to keep up with the youngsters all week.

Tomorrow evening my son, the newlywed, will be coming to take Josie home. I'll miss that little girl. We've had some great conversations and cuddle-time, but I look forward to seeing Tommy and hearing about their adventures in Italy.

This will be my Mother's Day visit from him, since I'll be in Houston visiting my mother on Sunday. I'll probably see the other two on Saturday. One might even travel with me to Houston, but it's still kind of iffy.

When the kids all lived at home, Mother's Day morning found me lying in bed, pretending to be asleep, listening to pans banging and Tom coaching them through fixing me a big bacon, eggs, and toast breakfast.

But once they started leaving the nest, it was rare to see them - especially all three at once - much less have a kid-cooked breakfast, because college finals usually fell around Mother's Day. 

But I'm grateful I can spend that special day with my mom, trying to make up for way too many Mother's Days that I spent with my friends on a Galveston beach instead of with her. (Kids! Sigh.)

I also go see her because it would be wrong not to, when so many of you would give anything to be able to tell your moms Happy Mother's Day in person, just one more time.

Anyway, back to this morning's walk...

I spotted a butterfly clinging to a low juniper branch. It fluttered a bit but stayed put as I snapped one photo after another, drawing ever closer.

The fact that it didn't fly away worried and concerned me. For some reason, I got the impression it was stuck to the branch, trying to get loose. Wanting to help, I put my finger out to help free it. It climbed onto my finger, but then fluttered to the ground, wings out, lying still.

Oh great, I thought. Now what I have I done?

I shooed the dogs away from it and started to continue on my walk, but worry and guilt got the best of me. I returned to the butterfly, found a small twig, and put it near its little feet. It clung to the twig, so I lifted it back up to where I first found it. It returned to the juniper branch, so I dropped the twig, and, again, started walking away.

But...what if it really wanted to be on the ground? Maybe I helped it the first time and just messed things up the second time. What if...what if...what if...?

I said a prayer for the little thing, and kept walking, trusting God to fix whatever I might have screwed up.

 

Then I thought about my kids (because that's the way my brain works and it is almost Mother's Day, after all) and about all the times I tried to help them. So often I just seemed to mess things up instead of making them better.

What if...what if...what if...?

And that's when I told myself to just shut the heck up, because what's done is done. I can honestly say my kids are awesome people, and whether it was despite me or because of me, it doesn't matter.

I know I did the best I could along the way for those beautiful creatures God put in my life's path,  just as I did the butterfly, always with lots of prayer. So I'll just keep trusting God to fix whatever I might have screwed up with my kids, too.

What more can we do, as mothers and fathers, and hikers in the woods?

So.... at the grocery store a little later, I indulged and bought some chocolate-covered strawberries.

Happy Mother's Day to me!

And Happy Mother's Day to all of you mothers out there! 

May you indulge yourself with forgiveness for any past (or future) parenting mistakes. You know in your hearts, as I do in mine, that you did the best you could, and most likely, you did a whole lot more right than wrong. Amen.

Being a mother is learning about strengths you didn't know you had, and dealing with fears you didn't know existed.  ~Linda Wooten

 

God, Grant Me The Serenity...

Through the window, I see my brother-in-law's SUV pull up in front of the house. Several younger men gather to help maneuver my mother down from her seat and into the waiting wheelchair.

For a moment exhaustion pinches her face from the three-hour road trip and constant struggle to breathe, but then I see that familiar smile bloom wide, right to the edge of joyful laughter, so contagious that everyone around her smiles, too.

She said she wouldn't miss her grandson's wedding, and by golly, she made it.

I sigh in relief. Maybe she didn't have doubts about her attendance, but I sure did. Eight months ago, for reasons that still haven't been clearly diagnosed, her muscle strength and balance disappeared. Walking was already a challenge because of her asthma, but now she couldn't even stand without support.

At first she fought it, believing she just needed to push herself to build up her strength. She accepted the wheelchair as a temporary accessory, but if you turned your back for a second, she would jump up and try to walk. Upon waking in the morning, she would automatically head down the long hallway, alone and unassisted, to the bathroom.

Consequently, she fell. A lot. I witnessed a few of the falls myself, including one in the middle of the night when she took my dad down on top of her in the bathroom (he tried to stop her fall) and we subsequently spent the night in the emergency room.

I'm not sure how many other falls there were. She and Daddy tried to keep them secret.

"Mama, stop trying to walk without help. You don't want to miss the wedding, do you?" 

She didn't. But it still took a few reminders before she started behaving and playing it safe, using the wheelchair to go down the hall and letting Daddy hover nearby when she needed to stand.

It's been a tough transition for all of us. Mama has always been the caregiver, so strong she makes the Steel Magnolias look like a bunch of wilting lilies. She's the Serenity Prayer and "where there's a will, there's a way" all rolled up in one, put into action. When something needed to be done, she just did it, without any whining or woe-is-me-ing. 

She spent sleepless nights nursing us through the usual and not-so-usual childhood illnesses and injuries...encephalitis, whooping cough, dislocated hips. Later, in her forties, Mama maneuvered my quadriplegic brother's six-foot-frame in and out of his wheelchair, despite her petite size. And just a few years ago, in her late 70's, she took care of my older sister following her hip surgery. 

 

Mama was with me to welcome my firstborn into the world, watched him while I worked and his dad went to school, and attended every special event of his life. There was no way in hell she'd miss his wedding, even if it meant relying on others for a change and accepting life in a wheelchair...at least for a little while. 

God, grant me the serenity...

 

In honor of Mother's Day, Generation Fabulous asked us to talk about that other fabulous generation - our mothers. Whether we like it or not, and whether we knew them or not, our mothers helped shape us into the women we are today. I realize I'm blessed with an amazing mother and the chance to know her through the eyes of an adult, and I'm happy I got to share a little bit about her with you. To read more mom stories, go HERE.

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I Won't Think About Good-Bye

 

 

I lingered on the back porch this morning with my coffee after the dogs finished their breakfast, listening to birds chirp their confusion over the unseasonal cool temperatures and the wind play rough with the trees. 

The sun was shining, and I could see the surface of our little pond sparkling through the new spring leaves of surrounding trees. I sat in the middle of a dream-come-true started thirty years ago, and wondered how I was going to say goodbye.

We're going to have to sell out and go somewhere else. Barring some miracle, along the lines of me writing a million-dollar bestseller or one of us winning the lottery, it's the only way we're going to climb out of the debt-sinkhole we've slipped into.

Tom figures it will take him two years to get the place in shape to sell. We started on it almost twenty years ago, moved in almost ten years ago, but it's not finished yet. Once we moved in, we weren't in a rush...until now. But Tom wants to see it the way he envisioned it in the beginning, so he's not rushing through doing a halfass job.

In my heart I know God led us here, so if it's his will we stay, we will, even if we don't see how right now. Maybe we've done what we were supposed to do here and he has some other job for us elsewhere. If so, I'll just give thanks for the time we've had in this little piece of heaven. We've been blessed and nothing can take that away.

Meanwhile, I'm going to linger and cherish and soak as much of Long Hollow as possible into my soul. I don't think I've ever taken it for granted, but I especially won't now. I'll push thoughts of goodbye off to the edge, only close enough to remind me to appreciate this day, and the next, and the next, and then I'll cherish the memories.

...While I pray for a miracle.

Be Still

 

It was a gray morning, the sun not yet able to break through the clouds above the Hollow or the dark thoughts clouding my brain. Worries and what-ifs mingled with sorrow for the people of Boston and scenes of the explosion in West were fresh in my mind.

My feet tread a familiar path through the woods, but I hardly paid attention. My camera dangled, forgotten, around my neck because I was too distracted by darkness to look for light.

Then, as I stepped into an area surrounded by tall trees, I heard it, the wind moving through their branches, singing a lullaby. A song straight from God to my heart.

"Be still."

That night, after a day of to-do's and running later than I'd hoped, I'd already forgotten that feeling of peace when I arrived at my meeting. Soft music and candlelight greeted me, thanks to the committee member in charge of our opening reflection.

"Be still and know that I am God," she read to us (Psalm 46:10) and once again I heard the trees' lullaby and God's voice: "Be still. Don't worry. I've got it."

For the next fifteen minutes or so, she guided us through a centering prayer, where we focused on interior silence, using a single sacred word to pull me back when those distracting thoughts try to pop back in and get me all rattled.

"Be still." The words have continued to echo in my heart, so simple, so full of love and comfort and security.

 

It's on the darkest night that you see the most stars, isn't it? When the moon and sun are both resting, the darkness provides a black backdrop to stars you would never even notice with a full moon on the stage, or when the sun rules the sky.

I think that's the way it is with sweet!s. When times get tough, that's when the sweet moments of our lives shine against the darkness. Once again we pay attention and give thanks for the simple things we all too often take for granted.

This past week, the shadows cast by terrorism and tragedy made me look closer for those bright spots I knew were there. 

 

Monday: a day off to play catch-up; a morning walk with happy dogs; turtles; cardinals at the birdfeeder; prairie verbena spreading everywhere; witnessing (via television) ordinary people becoming heroes

Tuesday: time for a long morning walk; a just-right day at work...not too busy, not too slow; spotting a Painted Bunting on your bird feeder

Wednesday: the sound of trees singing to each other; puppy kisses when you're feeling blue; praying with others for a small community hit with tragedy

Thursday: spending time with your baby girl, even if it's at the DMV and doctor's office; Five Guys cheeseburgers; arriving right on time everywhere on a tightly-packed day

Friday: trainees who catch on fast on a busy day at work; UPS and FedEX deliveries; your photos turned into beautiful greeting cards and prints; spotting a hawk out your kitchen window

Saturday: time for a long walk with your puppies and son before work; weddings, even on the sidelines; a belated birthday phone message from a friend; philosophical discussions with your son late at night

Sunday: sleeping in, late Mass with your son, and breakfast with friends; a walk with your son and puppies; the sun's kiss on your legs and arms; making a clean dent on a dirty house; your son making a delivery for you, saving you a trip into town

Monday: a forecast for absolutely perfect weather on your son's wedding day

 

A crazy, busy week awaits me, with one of the happiest days of my life ahead - the wedding of my oldest son. Talk about a bright light! But I'm determined to keep my eyes open and appreciate the simple blessings each day provides. I hope you do, too. Please share yours with me!

Birthday Cards and other sweet!s

Does anyone read blog posts in the middle of the night? It seems it's the only time I finally get to post, after finishing up the higher priority items on my to-do lists. 

BlogHer is asking for nominations for their Voices of the Year, in the categories of Heart, Humor, Inspiration, and OpEd. I had thought about nominating myself (that's what you do when you get older - you quit waiting on other people to toot your horn - you just do it yourself!) but to be honest, I can't think of a post that might have a chance of winning, so I'll probably just wait until next year.

I'm not putting myself down...it's just that I don't post about controversial stuff. And I don't cuss. Or have small children. I'm not an alcoholic or drug addict who had an abortion at 18.

I'm not complaining - I know I'm blessed. But those seem to be the criteria in the posts with the highest ratings, along with alcoholism, drug abuse, and abortions.

 I have too many other things on my plate to worry about. Namely, a wedding (my son's) and finding a job which is more than a job, but a career. And writing a book. And...

Okay, I'll stop and get on with this post, which is about birthday cards and other sweet!s of the past week.

 

Next year for my birthday, I'm going to go to Barton Springs Pool and wear a bucket on my head.

 

 

This is the card my son gave me. Inside it says: "It's your birthday, so take it easy. Relax. Wear a bucket on your head. Whatever."

 And he wrote: "Do you want to go to Barton Springs and wear a bucket on your head?

If I had said yes, he would have cringed, but I know he would have gone along with me, and my other two kids as well. As I've already said once in this post, I'm blessed. (Of course, they would have pretended they didn't know me, but that's understandable.)

My friend Tamara (Tamara, Tamara, Tamara!) sent me a card that proves she knows me very well...

 

 

And here are some other sweet!s of the week...

Monday: antelope horn blooming; spotting a rabbit's tail on a morning walk; a hug from an old co-worker/friend; reminiscing with a friend about your kids and old times

Tuesday: Russian accents; meeting a Headhunter who promised to critique your resume; a blog friend requesting to buy a series of your photos

Wednesday: a walk in the rain with your pups during a drought; homemade chicken soup and a fire in a fireplace on a cold, rainy day in a vineyard

 

Thursday: wildflowers bordering a Texas highway (they were beautiful, but I had to wait to take the photo when I was stopped at a red light, where they were more sparse); standing by your friend when she says goodbye to her mother; sharing memories of your childhood with people you still call friends; an evening with your parents

 

Friday: coffee and reading the newspaper at the kitchen table with your dad; sneaking a photo of your dad with your phone; new growth in an old neighborhood; red-winged blackbirds; splashes of primroses on a roadside that remind you of your wedding 30 years agoan afternoon with your daughter and seeing both of your sons

 

Saturday: time for a walk with your puppies before work; two elderly people finding love again; patches of bluebonnets; going to bed earlier than you expected 

Sunday: waking early enough to go to early Mass; the joy on your puppies' faces when you take them for a walk; baby turtles; your writing group liking your latest story; getting a lot of stuff done on your day off

I hope you have a fantastic week, full of sweet! moments! I'll leave you with one of my favorite photos...the red-winged blackbirds ignoring the kitties in my parents' backyard to meet at the birdbath...

 

 

Oh, my aching back...

So yesterday, I get home from work and Tom tells me he needs my help, which makes me happy, because he rarely accepts help on his projects. That's the artist in him, I think.

Anyway, he needed my help lifting a heavy rock he'd found on one of his scavenger hunts through the countryside in his little Suzuki Samurai. (His latest project is building a stone driveway, just like the stone terrace down by our little pond and our front walkway...only multiplied by like a zillion because it's a long driveway! Crazy man.)

So I changed clothes and we headed off in the Suzuki, ultimately driving off the road into a wooded area. This huge flat rock rested about twenty feet away. As a team, we lifted it and carried it to the Suzuki. On the way, I felt a tug in my back, but we were almost there, so I just kept going and tried not to make any sudden moves or twists.

I forgot about it until this morning, when after one small movement I felt this TWANG where the tug used to be, followed by pain so intense it took my breath away for a minute.  So I called the man with tons of back pain experience  - Tom - and he reminded me we have an inversion table. 

I'm happy to say that after ibuprofen, ten minutes on the inversion table, ten minutes on a heating pad, thirty minutes of light jogging on the treadmill, and some careful stretching, I was able to go to work. 

Well, after I removed the mouse from the back floorboard of my car and tossed it into the woods, that is. 

And after I heard that one of my dear friends lost her mother unexpectedly yesterday morning. (Please keep her and her family in your prayers!)

 

 

The rest of the day wasn't so bad. I had a request to purchase some photos, a positive reply to a writing job application I submitted, one of my posts was featured on the front page of GenerationFabulous.com, and I met a lovely couple at work who immigrated to Austin from Russia twenty years ago but still have fabulous accents. Oh, and I had an optimistic email reply for another potential job.

Tonight my back is still a little achy, but it's just a good reminder that my body doesn't like surprises. I need to work out every day, and I've been slipping lately. It's the only body I have and I need to take care of it. 

I hope you all had a wonderful day. (To my blog friends...I've been very neglectful but I hope you forgive me. Once I get these to-do lists under control again, I'll be making the rounds. I miss you! Thank you for coming by to see me, anyway!)

I still find each day too short for all the thoughts I want to think, all the walks I want to take, all the books I want to read and all the friends I want to see. 

~John Burroughs

Sigh.

~me

 

 

Five Things on (Good) Friday

1. Today is Good Friday, the day Christians around the world stop and consider the fact that an innocent person deliberately gave their life for them, out of love, even though they didn't ask him to and they did nothing to deserve it. Very sobering. 

But leave it to my friend Jim "Suldog" Sullivan to make me laugh about it. Go HERE to read his post about Good Friday.

2. I'm not sure how it happened, but earlier this week my computer and I somehow miscommunicated, resulting in a whole file of photos vanishing. I spent hours researching how to recover them, tried a few things with no luck, and finally spent $17 on a program called FileJuicer that managed to retrieve jpeg copies of my files.

I lamented the loss on Facebook, where a photographer friend/neighbor of mine told me he could retrieve the files from my card, even though I had already reformatted it. I tried not to get my hopes up, but hallelujah! he did it! All of the RAW photos were once again on my card, plus he gave me a copy of the program he used: Rescue Pro by Sandisk. And all it cost me was a 12-pack of Budweiser!

I call him Saint Bruce now. (Check out his beautiful photography at Bruce Coville Photography. The photo on the main page is the view of Lake Travis from his house.)

This is one of the files he saved. Every time I leave Houston I see this message and vow to capture it "next time". I finally remembered (eyes always on the road, don't worry!) and then promptly lost the file. Thanks again for rescuing it, Bruce!

3. My birthday is only a week and a day away. Last year my friends and family surprised me with the gorgeous iMac in front of me right now, telling me to use it to finish my book.

Well, I haven't, and I feel guilty.

4. Macy's put their Keurig coffeemakers on sale... almost half price, with a rebate! Since my old one kept bleeding all over my counter, I decided it was a sign I should get one. Happy birthday to me!

So far I'm loving it. I splurged and bought the little filter you can put your own coffee into. I drink way too much coffee to afford using those fancy k-cups all the time. They're only for company and emergencies!

5. I get to see 2/3 of my kids this weekend. 1/3 has tests next week and worried she wouldn't study if she came home. Sigh. But good decision. I guess.

Since half of the 2/3 is here already (plus my grandpuppy!) I'm finishing this up so I can go spend time with him. I hope you have a beautiful Easter weekend!

 

The outdoor Stations of the Cross at my church was finished enough for a group of us to make our way around this afternoon. Such a beautiful place. Easter blessings to all of you!

Make Good Art (Life)

Last night I stepped away from my computer before midnight for a change, set my alarm for 4:30 am, and before drifting off to sleep, asked God to remind me when it went off that I was excited about getting up so early because I would have time to write.

He did. And so, for the first time since the conference in February, I pulled out the critiques on my children's book, opened up the file, and began yet another revision in a silent house, well before the distraction of a husband stirring or a pink sunrise or a puppy's face hoping for a walk could distract me. 

I haven't given myself a deadline, other than to move forward every day, even if it's just to develop a character or backstory that no one will ever read.

On the wall of my office, right in my line of vision, is a placque, a gift from my friend Jill, that says "never, never, never give up" and on the other side is reminder from my friend Rae to "Find a passion and pursue it...never give up...do what you love...follow your dreams...make every moment count...be true to who you are..."

And who I am is a writer. Perhaps not the best, but I won't get better unless I write.

I even resisted glancing at my email this morning, because...

"There was a day when I looked up and realised that I had become someone who professionally replied to email, and who wrote as a hobby.  I started answering fewer emails, and was relieved to find I was writing much more."

Those are the words of writer Neil Gaiman from a commencement speech to a class of university art students in May of 2012. One of the women in my critique group sent the link of his speech to the rest of us.  

His words are aimed at artists, but since life itself is a form of art, I'm sharing it below with all of you, just in case I'm not the last person in the world to watch it. (That happens a lot!)

The speech is almost 20 minutes long, but every word is worth listening to. They were my wake-up call to re-focus on my book, but might be your wake-up call to re-focus on whatever gives meaning and satisfaction to your life. He has a lovely British accent, which makes it even better.

So turn it on, get up and stretch or do your nails or something while you listen. 

Okay, here's another little bit from it, if I haven't convinced you yet...

"Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do.

Make good art.

I'm serious. Husband runs off with a politician? Make good art. Leg crushed and then eaten by mutated boa constrictor? Make good art. IRS on your trail? Make good art. Cat exploded? Make good art. Somebody on the Internet thinks what you do is stupid or evil or it's all been done before? Make good art. Probably things will work out somehow, and eventually time will take the sting away, but that doesn't matter. Do what only you do best. Make good art.

Make it on the good days too."

~Neil Gaiman

                 

Neil Gaiman Addresses the University of the Arts Class of 2012 from The University of the Arts (Phl) on Vimeo.

Divulging My (not-so-secret fitness and health) Secrets

 

"I think in terms of the day's resolutions, not the year's."  ~Henry Moore

 

I recently came across a photo of myself taken on one of my girls' weekends in Port Aransas several years ago. I was standing by the rail of the ferry crossing to the island, flanked by two friends.

But at first glance, I didn't even recognize myself in the photo. Soon after it was taken, I started on a journey to get healthy. Not to lose weight, because I felt I'd already tried everything I could, diet- and exercise-wise, to lose those last fifteen pounds, but no luck. I was resigned to my weight. It wasn't that much, after all. I just wanted to be healthy and fit inside as I headed toward my fiftieth birthday.

I never expected that those changes I made in my life would melt the pounds away and make me feel healthier and more energetic than I'd ever, ever felt before. Seeing that photo made me realize what a huge difference our every day choices can make.

And it all started with a Lenten Promise.

I've never been one to go the "giving up" route during Lent. I know me too well. Why set myself up for failure?

Instead, I preferred to add beneficial things that I could continue beyond Lent, like saying the Rosary every morning when I walk the dogs or doing something nice for someone every day.

But that year I got it in my head to give up sugar as the first step of my journey to better health.

I quit adding it to my coffee and vowed not to eat any store-bought sweets...except for dark chocolate. I didn't like dark chocolate at the time, but I had heard it was sort of healthy, so if the Smarties leftover from Halloween or the Chips Ahoy cookies I knew were in the pantry starting calling my name, I allowed myself a piece of dark chocolate to pacify my sweet tooth. 

I also allowed myself homemade treats of any kind when they were offered - in moderation, of course. (They're made with love, so it's probably a sin to turn them down, right?) 

But it surprised me how hard it was to pass that candy bowl without grabbing something. It had become a habit. I started praying for the strength to stick with my Lenten promise, and that's when I finally "got" the giving-up thing: it's about realizing your own limitations and weaknesses, and learning to rely on God's strength instead of your own. 

By the end of Lent, the candy bowl no longer tempted me and I could easily pass up store-bought goodies. My taste buds had come back to life and my sweet tooth was satisfied by a handful of grapes or strawberries. 

(Alas, along the way I developed a love for dark chocolate. Now I look forward to two pieces in the evening.)

That first step led to others, taken one at a time. Along the way I continually educated myself on health and fitness so that perimenopause was pretty much a breeze for me (and those around me!)

I've decided to share my journey with others. Perhaps the steps I took aren't the right ones for everyone, but on the other hand, they might be; at the very least, I hope to inspire others to know they're never too old to make positive changes in their health and their life.

But there's too much to include in one blog post. Maybe I'll create a series...or even an e-book. I'll keep you posted. 

Meanwhile, what changes have you made in your life that resulted in more than you hoped for?

(The spam folder is still swallowing comments, so don't worry if yours seems to just disappear. I'll retrieve it as soon as possible. Thanks!)

  

Another Random Analogy, Kids!

Do you iron?

I don't. I mean, I can, but I haven't in a long, long time. 

My husband will vouch for that. He stopped buying shirts with wrinkle-inclined collars and button panels when it became clear he'd have to iron them himself.

"I buried a lot of my ironing in the back yard." ~ Phyllis Diller

But yesterday I had no choice. We go through a lot of white napkins at the winery bistro where I work and they come out of the dryer a mess of wrinkles.

I knew I couldn't just bury them, so there I stood beside the board, elbow up high, working that hot iron back and forth across a white cloth napkin. I pressed and pushed and pressed and pushed, but no luck. The wrinkles would not go away.

Then a faint memory stirred. Ah, yes. Steam. I found the magic button, and poof! the wrinkles vanished with just a fraction of my previous effort.

I fell into a rhythm, back and forth, back and forth, thumb on steam button. One napkin after another wrinkle-free, folded, and ready for tables. My mind wandered. I had forgotten about that part of ironing, too, how it's so conducive to thinking about any- and everything.  

And this is what my thoughts brought back to me from their journey abroad...

The napkins are like us, starting out all neat and tidy and folded just right. Then we head out into the world. We can't help but be affected, usually ending up used and dirty. We make changes, clean ourselves up, only to realize that, if we take a hard look at ourselves, our hearts are still all wrinkled. We can work and work and work, but our own effort just isn't enough. We need help.

We need steam, and I believe it comes in the form of the Holy Spirit. We just have to ask for help and it swoops in and smooths things out. The trick is we have to acknowledge the wrinkles and want to get rid of them.

Today is the first day of Lent and that's what it's all about, taking a good honest look at your heart, your soul, your life, seeing the wrinkles, recognizing we need help with the toughest ones, and depending on the Holy Spirit to help us.

Yes, that's how my brain works sometimes. Do you see now why my kids hate my analogies? I'm way out of practice now. You should have heard the ones I came up with when they were teenagers.

But for those of you who read all the way through this, I have something to lighten things up: "How to Survive Lent 2013 or What We Gave Up". I may be Catholic, but I still have a sense of humor. 

So...are you giving anything up for Lent? If not, here's my back-up question...do you iron?

"My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint."

~ Erma Bombeck

We don't iron these colored ones. I hope you can't tell. I don't want to have to start, even if ironing is conducive to random analogical thinking.

(P.S. Update on the comment problem: I apologize if you've tried to leave a comment, but didn't see it. Typepad has a new, obviously over-agressive, spam blocker system, and all comments are being dumped into my spam folder. I even discovered some of my recent replies in there! I've notified Typepad and hope it's resolved soon. In the meantime, thank you for commenting. They're there - you just don't see them! And since I'm not getting email notifications, you're not receiving my replies.)

 

Love and Marriage, and everything in between

Love is patient, love is kind...

When I heard those words from First Corinthians at Mass Sunday, my mind drifted back to my wedding. Like so many other couples, we chose this as one of the readings in our ceremony, believing we would always be patient and kind with each other. 

Well, we haven't. Not always.

It is not proud, it is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs...

Sigh.

Over the past thirty years I'm sure we've both committed each one of these sins. Marriage is tough. Pride is hard to swallow. Exhaustion and stress and differences of opinion on everything from kids and money to how to squeeze a tube of toothpaste just chip, chip, chip away at those bonds of love tying you together.  

We've survived plenty of bumps. There have been times I didn't think we'd make it to the next week, much less the next anniversary, times I thought that bond had cracked right in two. But somehow each of us kept hanging on, and that bond would feel stronger than ever. For awhile.

I'm not taking a single day together for granted. Life is tricky.

It always protects, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

I believe this is true, if you're determined and stubborn and want it to be true bad enough to fight for it, to swallow your pride, to keep an open mind that perhaps your way isn't the only way. 

To believe in your love for each other. To believe in God's love for each of you, and to ask for his love when your love isn't enough, which can happen all too often. To hang on to each other, no matter what.

When I stepped into my parents' home Sunday evening, the sound of running water drew me down the hallway to the bathroom. Water was pouring out of the shower head, thanks to a broken valve.

I discovered, from Daddy, it had been that way for more than 24 hours. Yikes, the water bill!

So first thing Monday morning, I called the plumber. Within thirty minutes, the dispatcher called to let us know someone was on their way...

...which upset Daddy, because Mama wasn't awake yet. He didn't want her to be disturbed. He worried more about her getting enough rest than that upcoming water bill. 

Or...perhaps he worried she'd be mad and grumpy and he didn't want to deal with it.

After more than sixty years, their marriage is a dance of irritation and protectiveness, of tender looks and looks that could kill. Time is flying by faster than ever for them and instead of being able to savor their time together, they're too busy with trips to the emergency room and doctor's appointments and their kids trying to tell them what to do.

They're worried about each other. Self-sacrificing. If there was ever a time their love wasn't unconditional, it's long gone.

But I can't forget those four years in the middle when they were divorced. No contact whatsoever. I still don't know the details leading up to the split, and I don't want to.

Lord knows there were enough of them. They had faced tons of obstacles, from problems with kids and money to in-law issues. You name it...it happened to them. So I'm guessing there was a lack of patience and kindness, and a surplus of pride, anger, and record-keeping. How could there not be?

And yet...somewhere inside of them hope survived. Love persevered. Love didn't fail.

I bet they wish they could go back in time and get those four years back. I bet they wish they could have just listened to each other and not wasted so much time apart.

In just a few short months my oldest will be getting married. I guess that's why my mind is reflecting on all of this. I wish I could tell them that it will be easy, but I think they already know that it won't. 

I do believe that the wisdom in these verses will see them through the inevitable bumps; I just hope they do a better job remembering them than we have.

Watching my parents, I know it's worth it. So, no matter what, I'll keep believing in us.

Retreat! and Silver Linings

 

I took a quick overnight road trip with a friend Friday. We stayed in cute little apartments with screened porches set in a woodsy area full of walking paths... a great place to take deep breaths and relax and take a break from the rest of the world. There was wine, laughter, and great conversation.

It was my first Catholic retreat and I loved it! 

We gathered with our priest and the rest of our church pastoral, finance, and facilities council members, at Cedarbrake, a retreat center outside of Belton, Texas, that's owned and operated by the Austin Catholic Diocese. We were there to work on focus and team-building. 

The word 'retreat' often seems negative, triggering images of running away in fear instead of facing problems head-on. But to retreat from whatever pressures are weighing on you, for even a few hours, can be a life-saving move, especially if you've lost your sense of direction or your physical, mental, or spiritual arsenal is depleted. 

Just as time spent alone with yourself is important, if you're a member of any kind of partnership or group - marriage, families, friendships, even business associates - I think you need to step away together every once in awhile for a break from the routine pressures you're bombarded with, to strengthen your bonds and stock up that arsenal of love and compassion and forgiveness, don't you think?

Tuesday night I joined some friends for Chinese food and a movie. We saw "Silver Linings Playbook" with Robert DeNiro and Bradley Cooper (and a bunch of other great actors!)

I had no expectations going in because I'd only seen little clips of it and had no real idea what it was about. But I really loved this movie, and not just because Bradley Cooper has such dreamy blue eyes. Have you seen them...I mean it? 

Cooper's character has, well, some major issues, but to help him deal with life and move forward, he is trying to focus on the silver lining in every situation. It reminded me of looking for those sometimes elusive sweet! moments of each day. That could be why I liked it so much.

(Plus those blue eyes.)

But it's gotten several Academy Award nominations, so obviously other people agree with me. 

This has been a fast week, and the next one is going to fly by even faster. I'm doing my best to keep my eyes open for those sweet! moments, but I'm afraid a few still slip past. Here are the ones I noticed this week...

 

Monday: the pre-dawn silence of your hollow;  a friend dropping in to see your folks at the hospital; teenagers with good manners; a dog curled up, waiting for you by your front door; your dad's release from the hospital;  a summery evening on your porch in the middle of winter

Tuesday: an easy day at work; Chinese food and a movie with friends; Bradley Cooper's blue eyes

Wednesday: support from your friends when you step out on a limb; an afternoon with your daughter, even if it's just a trip to the grocery store; $400 in free jewelry

Thursday: sleeping in; a day spent totally at home; time for writing

Friday: Internet service, especially after losing it when your old modem dies; a road trip with a friend; the chance to get to know members of your church council better

 

Saturday:  Mass in a small chapel tucked into the woods; team-building sessions; a reflective walk through a labyrinth; the amazing way your husband sculpts stones for a terrace near your little pond 

Sunday: a morning walk with your puppies before Mass; kneeling in prayer beside your husband; sunlight streaming through stained glass; a husband who changes the oil in your car to make sure you're safe on a road trip to your parents

 

Every year we go to our friends' house for a big Super Bowl party, where I mostly sit at a table gabbing, catching up with friends, eating ribs and chili so spicy my mouth feels like it's on fire, with only an occasional glance at the television (usually for a commercial.) 

But this year I'm hitting the road (again) for a quick visit with my parents, to make sure my mom gets to a doctor appointment tomorrow. So there's a chance I might actually watch the Super Bowl tonight if I get there in time. I'm sure that's what will be on my parents' television!

Will you be watching and rooting for anyone? I hope no matter who wins, you have a great Sunday, full of sweet! moments! (To my blog friends...I'm hoping to get around to visit you soon! Thank you for your patience with me!)

 

 

On A Windy Day

A brisk north wind roared through the hollow this morning, whisking cobwebs from the corners of my brain and slapping my face with its cold hands, saying "Wake up! Look around at this glorious morning! Isn't it great to be alive?"

I love the wind.

It has felt like spring the past few days, and I was happy for the change in temperature. Nothing against spring or summer - I love them both dearly - but I'm surprised to find I also love winter and have been missing her.

(Okay, I realize to all of you northerners occasional lows in the 30's doesn't seem like "winter", but if you're in Texas it does!)

Belle was all energy, bounding and jumping and wallowing, and Max could hardly slow to a walk, which meant I had to jog to keep up, and I'm sure that was quite a sight with me all bundled up in my winter coat.

The wind became a cloud artist with the brilliant blue sky its palette, swirling them into different designs. (small stone #30)

I love clouds.

 

 

Today was my first day off in eight days and I relished it by taking the puppies on a longer walk than usual. We didn't surprise any porcupines, and didn't even see any birds to speak of, except for a few doves we flushed.

Max chased some field mice, though (mercifully invisible to me in the tall grass.) I love to watch him, with his ears full forward tilt, hoping stiff-legged forward through the grass, full of hope. 

I headed downtown full of hope myself a few hours later (but ears down) to hand deliver a job application. It's a position that seems a great fit for all of the skills I've gathered along my eclectic work-journey.

I hope they think so, too. Specifically, I hope they think my 20+ years of experience will be equal to the degree and 5 years experience they mentioned in the ad. Gulp. 

Yeah, it's a long shot, but you can't be afraid to go out on the limb. That's where the fruit is, right?

 

(I realize this is not technically a limb, and the fruit is probably poisonous to humans, but I think those little berries, whatever they are, are so pretty, don't you? They give a splash of va-voom to the usual drab green and brown winter. Hope you're finding some va-voom, too!)

(P.S. Thank you all so much for your prayers for my Daddy. He was finally released from the hospital Monday, and from what my mother tells me, is back to his old self...even driving to the grocery store yesterday. yikes. Please continue praying for them! I'm going to try to persuade them to move closer to us so I can be more help.)

(I just realized I've included more parentheses than normal in this post. I'm blaming it on that full moon!)

 

Linking up with Lissa's...

 

Gratitude (and other sweet!s)

 

My dad is still in the hospital following his little stroke earlier this week, but he's stable and should be able to go home tomorrow.

However, considering his health history and his stubborn determination to no longer follow the heart/diabetic healthy diet he's followed for a couple of decades, I doubt this is the last emergency trip to the hospital he's going to take. 

My older son drove down yesterday to check on them. Twenty-seven years ago they were taking care of him (while I worked) and now he's taking care of them (while I work.)

What a beautiful circle.

I appreciate all of your prayers for Daddy, as well as all of the advice and encouragement you sent me after my last post. I still haven't figured out what I'm going to do, but you've given me so much to consider when making my decision. Thank you so much, sweet friends!

It's been an up-and-down, exhausting week, but each day still offered plenty of sweet! moments, nonetheless. I hope you're still finding plenty, too! Share them in the comments!

 

Sunday: new wine, fresh from the barrel; the half moon and a sky full of stars guiding you home after an evening of laughter and tears with dear friends; a glimpse of deer and a ringtail in your headlights 

Monday: sleeping in; your son joining you on your morning walk with the puppies and helping you take down your Christmas tree; moonlight on a caliche road and tin roof

Be like the bird that, pausing in her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing that she hath wings.

~Victor Hugo

Tuesday: a glimpse of a cardinal, first thing in the morning; a hawk soaring through a cloudless azure sky; sore muscles; remembering to pick up your puppy's dog food on your way home from work

Wednesday: a walk in the fog; brick oven roasted veggies; relaxing after work with a glass of wine on a patio overlooking a vineyard; baby steps on your book

Thursday: an invitation to join an online group of women writers; high school students who are courteous and respectful; cell phones so you can keep up with news of your dad's latest mini-stroke even though you're miles away

Friday: news that your dad is stable and hearing his voice via speakerphone; the full moon rising; daydreaming about returning to college

Saturday: a chocolate cake-ball-on-a-stick; a face-to-face moment with a deer on your caliche road, even if you're not able to capture it with your camera; your son making a road trip to see your parents in the hospital; friends asking about your dad; a text from a friend reminding you there's a full moon, because it made her think of you; dramatic clouds swirling around a full moon

Sunday: your husband taking over your dog-feeding duties to give you a little free time before work; singing "How Great Thou Art"; a job tip from a friend; a beautiful surprise visitor in your yard when you get home from church; a gift of song from a dear friend

 

Our surprise visitor, Rico, who lives up the road. Can you believe he's 12? 

 

Rejection (and other sweet!s)

 

"Dear brothers and sisters, when troubles come your way, consider it an opportunity for great joy. For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow."

~ James 1:2-3 

I received another "sorry, you're not the right person for this job" email earlier this week. It was for one that I knew - well, I was pretty sure - I would find interesting and that I would be good at, but I didn't even make it to the interview stage!

I just know if I could interview for these jobs I'd get hired. Is that arrogant of me?

But at least this company had the courtesy to let me know I wasn't chosen. There are so many who don't acknowledge your application one way or another. Rude.

It's an humbling experience to hit so many brick walls. Until recently, I've never been turned down for a position. In fact, I was asked to apply for most of the jobs I've had over the past twenty years. 

I'm not giving up, though. I can't afford to, of course, but I do believe there's a job out there waiting for me, a door that's creaking open even as I type this. Yes, rejections can be a good thing. (I'll keep telling myself that.)

In the meantime, I'm grateful for my part-time jobs at the winery and the school district (but I do hope all of the teachers suffering from the flu get well soon!) I'm grateful for photography gigs and photo sales and jewelry parties and book reviews that put a little more jingle in my pocket.

Besides rejection and little paychecks, I've had a few more sweet! moments this past week... 

 

Tuesday: the first customer of the day at the bistro where you're working is one of your dear friends; your paycheck plus some; witnessing the sacrament of Confirmation for 30 teenagers

 

Wednesday: a wide open day at home to work on your book and your to-do's; playing your drums for the first time in weeks, and having it all come back to you; a Cheshire-Cat moon grinning through the trees with a silvery smile (small stone #17)

Thursday: watching the sun wash over the hollowa sun-warmed car on a cold morning; a day of errands with your baby girl; being reunited with your 26-year-old watch after its battery was replaced; dental insurance; new orthotics; the silhouette of hills against a salmon and blue sunset; a new book to review

Friday: the creativity and passion of high school student-writers; paychecks when bills are due; learning you're not the only one who still has her Christmas tree up; joining others to celebrate the life and passing of a friend

Saturday: waking without an alarm clock to another beautiful sun-filled day; puppies staring at you through a window, waiting patiently for breakfast or a walk; your husband taking you to and from work, so that you can gaze out the window at the beauty of the Texas hill country; iPhones and Instagram; laughing with your son over the silliness of "The Color of Magic" part 2 

“You never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from.”

~ Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men

Have you ever had bad luck later reveal itself as good luck? 

Epiphany

Today is Epiphany. Since we couldn't all be together on Christmas, I stole an idea from my friend Jim "Suldog" Sullivan, who waits until Epiphany to exchange gifts with his wife: I gathered my kids and husband together for a special meal and gift exchange. We used the good china and everything! More on that later. I'm headed downstairs now to watch a movie, but wanted to share this post from 2010, because they were words I needed to hear today, and thought you might, too. I love it when my past self encourages my present self.

I'll post my sweets and stones tomorrow.

I hope you've all had a wonderful weekend!

 

Knotted muscle in my neck...can't quite catch my breath...geez, it's only Jan. 4 and I'm already stressing about how to get everything accomplished that I want to do this year! I wish I could resolve to have an extra 6 hours each day - that would help!

But, of course, I can't. None of us can. We just have to stumble along and do the best we can and try not to worry about the minutes we drop along the way. Just keep facing forward, or, as this Japanese proverb reminds us...

 "If you look up, there are no limits."

For me, this means that God will give me the time, strength and whatever other resources I need (money, patience, determination, health...) to do what he needs me to do. And nothing else really matters.

That's so much easier to say than to accept, though.

This morning I rose at 5am...the first time in more than a week I've been up before the sun. Even though I hate that first jolt of the alarm clock and long to jump back under the covers just a little while longer, I love getting so much done before the sun rises. I love walking the critters under a fresh morning sky, watching the world wake up. I feel invigorated...hopeful...ready to embrace the day. I wish morning could last all day!

It helped that we celebrated the Epiphany at Mass yesterday - the visit of the Magi to the baby Jesus. The theme...the key word to remember...the word and image I took away from the service was LIGHT.

Light as in guidance...the star that led them to Jesus; light as in understanding...they recognized Jesus was a king, the son of God; light as in revelation...they revealed to us that Jesus came for all people, all nations, all races.

So each day I will focus on that light. His light. I'll imagine it as the fresh morning light, stretching over the world as the sun rises. I'll pray that it shines outward, leading me along the right path and helping me have greater understanding and compassion...I'll pray that it shines inward upon myself, revealing my faults...those areas that I most need to work on. I'll pray that I have his light within me and that others can see it. And then I'll take a deep breath and try not to worry about anything more.

A massage sure sounds nice right now, though...

"If you look up, there are no limits."

 

P.S. from 2012: Would you believe my son gave me a gift certificate for a massage for Christmas? Sigh. Perfect!

A New Year and Three Small Stones

 

So here we are on the third day of a new year already. When I last spoke to you, way back in 2012, there were gray skies above as well as inside.

I'm happy to report the sun has broken through in both places at least a few times since then, warming me with its soft light and reminding me it's still there before slipping back behind that gray curtain.

Last night it burst forth at sunset, making the sky look like molten lava and taking my breath away with it as it dropped below the dark hills. (I only had my phone to capture the moment. You can see it on my instagram page here but it really doesn't capture the beauty of it.)

The clouds rolled back in as it disappeared, but tomorrow morning we might wake to a few snowflakes and that will make the gray clouds totally worthwhile! 

My dad is still in the hospital. He had surgery today to insert a stent in his carotid artery, but it turned out the artery wasn't blocked enough to require one. I'm grateful for that, except it's the same conclusion doctors at another hospital came to just a few months ago when he had the arteriogram and the surgery on the other artery.

But, instead of focusing on whether or not these doctors did enough homework before heading into my dad's arteries (!!!!!) I'm just grateful he made it through today's surgery okay. And I'm grateful for my brother who was able to be there with my parents, and for my sister who makes sure I know what's going on despite being so far away. 

 

 

Despite the cold, TG and I have been spring cleaning the past few days, lugging clothes to resale shops and Goodwill. I'm in a fever to get organized and downsize and simplify, so I've also been weeding through piles and drawers of paperwork, and posting odds and ends on Craig's List. (Cha-ching! I've had two buyers!)

I've submitted job applications, worked on my book, finished a photo project I started months ago, and dove headfirst back into Flickr with two photo challenges. Interacting with other photographers motivates me to try new things with my camera. (Besides, I missed my Flickr friends.)

So that my writing doesn't get jealous of the attention I'm giving photography, I've joined the Mindful Writing Challenge on Writing Our Way Home, committing to write a "small stone" every day of January.

A small stone is just a short piece of writing that captures a moment when you are fully focused and engaged with the world around you. Writing stones helps me slow down, pay attention, and stretch my mind to use words creatively. I think I'll try to continue this beyond January.

Here are the three I've written so far:

1. Sun rays sweep gray clouds from the sky, like a straw broom clearing cobwebs from an old windowpane.
2. The flaming sun drops below chocolate hills, blowing rosy goodbye kisses to hovering clouds.
3. Tennis shoes crunch-crunch on caliche. Eight paws tap-tap beside me. Music of my mornings. 

 

 

Did you make a New Year's resolution? I usually don't, except for echoing Michael Franti's song "Hey, hey, hey..."

No matter how life is today, I won't let another moment slip away.

~Michael Franti

That includes another moment to take care of myself (daddy's health issues are a great reminder for that!), support my family and friends, be kind and encouraging, work toward my dreams, follow through on promises, dance, laugh, listen, love, be still...and take a deep breath before getting angry. 

It's been a full, emotional roller-coaster of a year already. I think I've used my whole repertoire!

So...what do you think of 2013 so far?

 

Linking up with Lissa at...

 

So, 2012, this is how we say goodbye...

 

This morning raindrops plopped on my head, making me think of that old B.J. Thomas song. I couldn't remember all the lyrics, just the "cryin's not for me... nothin's worryin' me" part.

Perfect timing, because as of yesterday afternoon, my dad's back in the hospital with a suspected stroke.But even though I shed a few tears and battled those little worry demons, I didn't hop in my car and head to Houston this time, instead trusting my siblings who live there to take care of my parents.(Hallelujah!, Daddy's stable and not showing any signs of paralysis.) 

Alas, all day the heavy gray sky sat on the hills surrounding me, obscuring them from my vision, and I thought, how appropriate for the cusp of a new year that seems foggy with changes I can sense but not visualize enough to predict their direction or the effects they will leave behind. 

One I know without a doubt will be wonderful - my oldest will be getting married in the spring. I can't wait for that, for the tears and laughter and dancing of that night...for the light of love in their eyes and for officially embracing a new daughter.

And, call me crazy, but I'm still optimistic that, even in this economy, there's someone out there who wants to hire a 53-year-old female with an eclectic work record and no degree for a fascinating job with good pay and benefits...and even with a full-time job I'll be able to finish my children's book and get back to my great-grandfather's story by the end of the year...and continue building my photography business. And sleep.

But I know some of the changes waiting in the mist of this new year will be tough. Tough enough that I don't want to imagine them at all, even as I try to prepare myself for them.

That gray cloud has settled inside of me today, I'm afraid. Tom and I usually have a party to welcome the new year, but this year we procrastinated more than usual and just never got around to planning it. I could dress up and go to a friend's party, but with Daddy in the hospital, I think I'm just going to stay home. It feels like a night to whisper goodbye and hello.

For the past few days I've been trying to think of my word for the year, hoping the right one would find me. And, thanks to the mist and fog obscuring the hills, it did:

Faith.

Faith to keep moving forward, even when my path is obscured. Faith that I'll have the wisdom I need. Faith I'll find a way to be a light for others...that I'll be flexible in the pushes and pulls to come in this next year...that I will know when to fly and when to perch and rest for awhile.

Faith that there will be enough money, enough love, enough time. Enough respect and trust. Enough whatever...which shouldn't be hard, because we've always had at least just enough in the past. 

Wishing all of you tons of blessings, love, light, and faith in 2013!

 

Blurry Days and Short Lists

Confession time: My tree is still bare.

Also, and much worse, I'm guilty of only haphazardly noting my sweet!s this week. The days just melted into each other. I jotted a few on random pieces of paper around the house, but most never got past the good intentions stage and the memory is gone.

Why is it that simple little joys are so easily taken for granted and forgotten? 

But I've managed to dredge my memory and have come up with a few. I hope you're doing a better job than I am! In times like these, marred with tragedy and sadness, I believe the sweet! moments in our life are truly gifts, acting as lights in the darkness, helping us move forward. 

 

Monday: finally creating a Facebook page for your photography website 

Tuesday: watching a documentary about the survivors of the Dust Bowl with high school students, and being inspired by the survivors' resilience and hope; a piece of your genealogy puzzle slipped into place, thanks to a cousin's research

Wednesday: fitting in a morning walk with your frisky puppies before work

Thursday: frosty mornings; wood-burning stoves; a full day to work on your book

Friday: bumping into friends at the grocery store; picking out toys for your church Giving Tree; joining with your nation in prayer after a tragedy 

Saturday: feeling better after two weeks with a cold; wrapping presents; small Christmas parties with friends

 

 

 

Sunday: wearing a goofy Santa hat; the magic of Christmas glowing on children's faces when they talk to Santa; traveling to Middle Earth with your kids, via the Hobbit movie; Austin's 6th street at dusk in December; writing groups

This week I'll submit 10 pages of my book to be critiqued for February's conference... I'm going to experience Austin's Trail of Lights for the first time... my tree will get decorated... and I'll keep track of the sweet! moments that light up my life. 

Whatever the week holds for you, don't forget to breathe and pay attention. Here's to brighter days for all of us! 

 

Lighting a Candle

Thinking of those babies in Connecticut tonight, and their teachers. The families left in mourning.  

Thinking of the young man and how desperately sad he must have been...how full of despair and darkness...to do what he did.

Vowing to try harder to be a light in this world, instead of contributing to the darkness.

 

A Feliz Navidad to Remember

When my kids were young, I liked spending Christmas at home. I liked Santa coming down my chimney and leaving gifts under my tree. I liked my children having memories of waking up surrounded by Christmas magic in their own beds.

But one year we made an exception. My husband's youngest brother (he has eight) was getting married in Huatabampo, Sonora, Mexico on December 23. We couldn't resist - how could we NOT go? It would be such a great cultural experience for our kids to travel through Mexico...to experience a Mexican wedding!

It took quite a bit of preparation...and that's when I remembered the other reason why we never traveled on Christmas. I am one of those procrastinators who waits until the week before Christmas to do my shopping, and my cards arrive closer to New Year's Day than Christmas Day.

But this time I had to have everything ready way in advance, and I came through with flying colors, down to every detail. We borrowed a large cooler for food; I bought books about traveling in Northern Mexico and a laminated, easy-to-fold map. We even let Santa know we'd be traveling, but gave him permission to come on inside the house and leave most of his presents under the tree (wink, wink!) because we wouldn't have room in the van for anything extra on the return trip.

Tom's parents traveled from Florida to our house. We would minivan-caravan to the wedding. The night before our departure, we spread a map on the dining room table and plotted our route: - west on I-10 to Arizona and then turn left. From there it was a straight shot south to Huatabampo. Easy! 

But sometime between "Easy!" and the next morning, Tom and his dad had changed the route, to my and my mother-in-law's grumbling dismay.

"It'll take hours off our trip!" Tom claimed, pointing to a narrow line on the map that twisted and turned across the middle of the Sierra Madre Mountains. The Sierra Madre Mountains!

"Are you sure that's even a road? Look how thin that line is!" But our protests fell on deaf ears.

I could have said "I told you so" two nights later when we were crawling at 20 miles per hour through the mountains along that thin line, but I was too busy praying and watching out for potholes...

"Hail Mary, full of grace...POTHOLE!...the Lord is with thee...POTHOLE!...", translating the many "Curvo Peligroso!" (Dangerous Curve!) signs, and vowing to never take another trip with this man again. (I found out later my mother-in-law was making an identical vow.)

I was grateful for the pitch darkness of night in those mountains - I suspected there were sheer drop-offs on the edge of the road, but I preferred not knowing.

When the sun rose, it revealed a valley spreading out before us dotted with Saguaro cactus - we had made it through the mountains alive! Soon we entered civilization - Ciudad Obregon - and almost wept at the sight of a gleaming, modern Holiday Inn. We straggled in to the breakfast buffet like a group of parched, ravenous wanderers discovering an oasis.

Fortified with bacon, eggs, and hot coffee, we continued on our way, back on our original route -  a highway that took us straight to Huatabampo. Our hotel was in the center of town, overlooking a busy street.

The next few days were as wonderful as we had expected...we met Tom's brother John's fiance, Yadira, and her family. None of them spoke English, so I finally put my high school Spanish to good use!

We took a side trip to Huatabampito on the west coast of Mexico...on the Sea of Cortez, I believe...where we collected armfuls of delicate spiral shells. 

The wedding itself was beautiful, even though because of the communication thing and John's pre-wedding jitters we didn't realize dinner wouldn't be served until late in the evening. We would have starved but the reception hall staff had pity on us and brought us mounds of saltine crackers.

 

The next day we traveled back into the mountains to Los Alamos, a colonial Mexico town, all decked out for the holidays. We toured the cathedral, explored some shops and enjoyed our Christmas Eve dinner at a restaurant there before heading back into Huatabampo for Christmas Eve Mass.

 
 Christmas morning we arose before dawn to head home to the states, and what do you know? Santa had actually dropped a gift off for each of the kids!

It had been a memorable trip - it meant a lot to John to have some of his family at the wedding and it was a wonderful experience for my kids to really experience another culture. But I admit...it still felt great to cross back over the border into the United States...one of my favorite Christmas presents ever.

 

What about you? Do you usually travel or stay home? Do you have a good Christmas/holiday story or misadventure to share? I'm all ears! 

When You Know They're All Grown Up

 

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, 
and He bends you with His might 
that His arrows may go swift and far.

~Kahlil Gibran

 

Several weeks ago I was nearing the end of my rope...more frustrated, worried, hurt, and angry than I've been in a long, long time because others I thought I could depend on proved unreliable.

My son Tommy stepped forward without being asked, driving from San Antonio to Houston in the middle of moving to a new apartment and wedding plans and a new job to take over the care of his grandmama so I could run home two days for an important job of my own. He handled it all with ease, even making calls to doctors to coordinate Daddy's discharge.

This mother's heart inside of me overflowed with relief, pride, and gratitude. I know he was motivated out of love for them as much as a desire to help me, but that makes me even more proud and grateful. 

Degrees and jobs are great, but the proof of adulthood is an honorable, dependable, giving-back heart, and I knew without a doubt that what I had worked for, hoped for, prayed for, all of his life had come true: my smart, sensitive, loving little boy had grown into a man without losing any of those qualities, despite this harsh, materialistic, self-serving world we live in.

Happy 27th birthday, Tommy. Today my heart is still overflowing with gratitude to you for coming to my rescue and to God for blessing me - trusting me - with motherhood, beginning with you. May your coming year overflow with love and blessings and wishes come true!

 

Sweet Relief

I almost didn't publish this post.

Late this afternoon my sister called me at work to let me know Daddy was heading to the hospital via ambulance again. Another suspected stroke. Even if I had the time to post my collected sweet!s of the week, it just didn't seem right when I had such a heavy heart.

I made plans to leave for Houston early in the morning... and then Brenda called again with news I hadn't even dared to hope for: Daddy had checked out just fine and was on his way back home. Hallelujah! Talk about answered prayers!

I gave Mama and Daddy time to get home and settled before calling them. Hearing Daddy's voice on the other line was the sweetest sound ever.

So now I'll share what I had thought was the biggest sweet! of the week... 

I went dancing last night!

It was our annual church Adult Christmas party where we're one of the youngest couples, there's enough space on the dance floor that we're not getting bumped and elbowed all the time, and there's a group of ladies who love to dance as much as I do, so poor Tom is off the hook. (One of them, a spitfire in her 70's, did a full body shimmy to Proud Mary that would rival Tina Turner's! I have so much to learn!)

I also wanted to share a great quote I came across earlier this week...

Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

I can't help but believe Longfellow wrote it with me and my writing in mind.

And now for a few more sweet! moments I collected this past week...

 

Saturday: watching Princess Bride for the one zillionth time with your kids

Sunday: a Sunday spent at home, not out of town or at work; sleeping in and going to late Mass for the first time in months; finally having time to dust and vacuum your filthy house; your kids hauling your boxes of Christmas decorations upstairs for you before they head back to their own places; a call from a dear friend

 

 

Monday: getting paid to hang out in a library all day; finishing up a project (well, almost); dredging up the willpower to work out after work; an email asking about using one of your photographs in a newsletter

Tuesday: seeing deer dash in front of you on your morning walk; your old puppy running after the deer; finally making it to a doctor after rescheduling twice; getting your flu shot; helping your daughter shop for a tacky sweater in an eclectic resale shop; finding an authentic Scottish wool kilt for only $10 in the same shop; joining your husband and most of your kids for happy hour at Double Dave's; grocery shopping with your daughter

 

 

Wednesday: moonlight splashing in your kitchen when you first get up;  watching the moon set on the horizon on a chilly morning; the shimmer of frost; finally shushing the negative voices in your head and making progress on your book; dreaming about winning the lottery

Thursday: morning walks three days in a row; getting started on your book easier; helping your parents get the paperwork together to dispute the penalty for filing for Medicare Pard D "late" (why is there even a penalty??); saying to heck with to-do lists and deadlines and meeting friends for dinner

Friday: working on your book before heading to work; helping four-year-olds pick out books for their Book Fair wish list; hugs from four-year-olds; a check for one of your photographs waiting for you in the mailbox; a husband who doesn't make fun of you for crying in a movie about aging dogs

Saturday: french toast, a la Tom; time for a morning walk before work; slow dancing with your husband; teaching others how to do the Cotton-Eyed-Joe 

Sunday: sunlight through stained glass; talking photography with customers; answered prayers; your daddy's voice; Christmas lights on your tree, thanks to your husband

 

I hope you are remembering to keep track of, and give thanks for, your sweet! moments!

Good Intentions

I dusted and vacuumed yesterday.

I'm not sure how long it had been since it was last done, but let me put it this way: I keep photos of the kids on a table near the front door and change them out for each season or holiday (sometimes the extent of my decorating) - and my poor kids were still stuck in summertime, playing on the beach. They totally missed Halloween and playing in piles of leaves and dressing up as Pilgrims.

(Translation: I haven't dusted since before Halloween! I wasn't joking when I said I needed my Dad to come up and clean my house!)

My house is by no stretch of the imagination "clean", but at least the main rooms appear presentable and my Christmas decorations have moved from the downstairs storage room to the middle of the livingroom, thanks to 2/3 of my kids. That's major progress, believe me.

However, a few years ago the decorations spent more time in those boxes in the middle of the room than they did spread out where we could see them. I'm determined that doesn't happen again this year, but at the same time, I'm determined not to stress about it.

Or about gifts, either. I don't want to go totally giftless, like last year, because I believe giving is a beautiful way to show your love, but I'm not going to let that aspect of Christmas stress me out, either, or feel compelled to go even broker in my giving.  

Instead, I want to focus on family and friends and my faith during this season of Advent. I want to slow down and savor and think and simplify.

There will be parties and gatherings with friends. I'll need to work, both at my paying jobs and on my book to beat the December 19th deadline. I'll have trips back and forth to Houston to help my parents with doctor's appointments and whatever else they need.

But over and above it all, I want to stay centered and focused. I want to breathe and love and give thanks. I want to look inward and prepare my soul.

I'm wishing that in the days ahead you are able to slow down and breathe and find meaning in the trappings of the season, whatever they may be for you.

 

 

 "Joy is the true gift of Christmas, not the expensive gifts that call for time and money. We can communicate this joy simply: with a smile, a kind gesture, a little help, forgiveness. And the joy we give will certainly come back to us.…Let us pray that this presence of the liberating joy of God shines forth in our lives."

~ Pope Benedict XVI 

Small Things

I made it to my writing group tonight for the first time in weeks. At least, I think it's been weeks since I've attended. Time has been playing tricks on me lately.

At any rate, I made it there tonight. My compadres critiqued the handful of pages I submitted and I critiqued theirs and we talked about books and I felt like a writer. It was wonderful.

It wasn't until after the meeting that I saw the texts from my sister letting me know my nephew had to go help Daddy get Mama off the floor. She hadn't technically fallen, thank goodness. When she knew she was losing her balance, she leaned against the wall and slid down, with Daddy holding her.

A controlled fall, I guess you could say. 

(I'm grateful my nephew is living close to them again.)

 ************************************************

 

I really need to go dancing. Yes, I said "need".

Tom and I were invited to go with friends Friday night, but he had been working on cars all day (with no luck!) and was totally wiped out.

I had a lot of work to catch up on, myself, and would have gotten even farther behind if we'd gone. But, if only for therapeutic reasons, hitting a dance floor is rising ever higher on my priority list. 

Laughing is good therapy, too, though, and thanks to my blogging friend, Bill, of A Few Clowns Short, I got a good chuckle this week from the following video.

If you've never watched the TV show Breaking Bad, don't bother watching it. You won't get it, and you'll probably never want to watch the real thing!   

 

And now for more sweet!s of the past week, although I kind of gave some away in my last post... 

Sunday: no slow cars in front of you on the way to work; repeat customers; the sacrifice veterans make to ensure you stay free; majestic skies that make you pull off the road to stare and snap a photo; one more movie with your sweetie before heading out of town for a few days

Monday: leaving ahead of schedule on your road trip so you totally miss morning traffic; the red-orange rising sun peeking through low clouds on the horizon; your dad's surgeon giving him a good follow-up report; spinach enchiladas; laughing with your parents

 

 

Tuesday: telling your mom "Happy Birthday" first thing in the morning; making chili for your parents; the smell of a pumpkin pie in the oven; celebrating your mother's 81st birthday with family; reconnecting with a dear friend from your past

Wednesday: old red trucks; your parents' neighbor caring enough about them to call you for an update and to see how they can help; time to walk around the state capital with your camera while waiting to pick up your son from work; helping your future daughter-in-law celebrate her 25th birthday with margaritas and Mexican food; arriving home after being away (again) 

 

 

Thursday: hitting snooze and snuggling deeper under the covers on a cold morning; the moment when the first sunrays hit the Hollow; neighbors who tattle on your puppies when they are off on an adventure so you can call them home before they get into trouble; being stranded at home without a car so you have hours alone to work on your book; a surprise in the mailbox from one of your friends

Friday: a long walk with your puppies; finding writing inspiration in a fourth grade classroom; finally getting a chance to grocery shop for your house for the first time in weeks; watching an old Haley Mills movie with your sweetie 

 

 

Saturday: your puppy reminding you to go for your morning walk; a visit from your son and grandpuppy; a deluxe chicken quesadilla a la your son; a photo shoot of a beautiful family; red-haired babies; hearing good news about a friend's son

Sunday: French Toast after church, courtesy of your husband; a slow day at work when you're tired; finally making it to your writing group meeting for the first time in weeks

 

I hope, no matter how busy you are in the coming week, you remember to make note of your sweet! moments! 

My Village

Summer and autumn traded places while I was gone. The purple flowers have faded, and the splashes of gold have moved from the blossoms that used to line the road up to the trees.

It's amazing the change a few days can make.

 

“Friends show their love in times of trouble.” ~ Euripes

I drove home from my parents Friday afternoon. I was scheduled to work Saturday and Sunday... plus I missed Tom, the puppies, my bed, my dirt road, the sound and smell of the woods...

Still, it was tough leaving, especially after spending the previous night in the Emergency Room. Mama fell in the bathroom around 1 in the morning, whacking her head hard enough on the floor to bring up an instant bruise, huge and purple as a plum.

Hallelujah, she passed the catscan, X-rays, blood and urine tests, and I drove us all home just as the sun rose red on the horizon. While they slept, I got her prescriptions filled and gathered my things, then before leaving, sat with Mama to fill out and submit applications for Medicare Part D, which covers prescriptions. I found out from the pharmacist that Daddy hasn't been getting a lot of his meds filled. When I asked Daddy about it, he said they were too expensive.

(Of course, Daddy doesn't think they're necessary, anyway, and that not taking them has nothing to do with the recent blockage in his carotid artery. I disagree.)

Anyway, by the time I crawled into my own bed Friday evening, I had somehow been up for 36 hours, running on nervous energy and a few cups of coffee, my mind in a whirl, wondering and worrying about leaving Mama and Daddy there alone. 

It helped knowing my sweet sons were heading the opposite way in the morning, planning to spend the weekend with their grandparents. Tommy took my dad grocery shopping. (I had gone to the store several times, but only bought them healthy stuff, considering Daddy's diabetic and all. I didn't ask what they bought this time.)

And what a relief when my friend Rae called letting me know she had picked up Whataburgers for the whole crew Saturday evening, and again on Sunday, when another longtime friend Debbie and her mom dropped in on them with KFC. Debbie just lives around the corner from my parents and has urged them to call if they need anything at all.

My sister Brenda and her husband will also pick up groceries and run other errands as needed, and Brenda is working on filling out the Veteran's Administration Compensation forms. Plus home health care started today with a visit from a nurse.

Mama and Daddy's neighbors Hector and Estella have also stressed to call them or knock on their door if they need anything at all, and they've been dropping food off for my parents for years now.

Sigh. Such a relief!

It's still tough being so far away. We've tried for years to get them to move closer, and have now started trying to persuade them to move in with us, but no luck, and I don't anticipate them changing their minds.

So knowing all of these wonderful people are close, holding hands around them, ready to catch them if they fall...well, there are really no words to express how much that means to me and the peace of mind it gives. 

It's beyond sweet!, that's for sure.

Best friends are those who make your problems their problems so you don't have to go through them alone.

~ unknown 

I hope I'm that kind of friend.

And now for a few sweet!s from the past week... 

 

Sunday: the full moon keeping you company on an evening drive to Houston; seeing your Daddy back home after a major surgery; your son letting you know he made it home safely, too; an email asking to share your photos of a Futuro Home

Monday: making progress on editing the photos from your latest photo shoot; plumbing fixes that are easy and inexpensive; taking care of things for your parents; a late afternoon walk around your old block

Tuesday: word from your relatives and friends on the east coast that they made it through Hurricane Sandy relatively okay; more progress on photo editing; sweet neighbors; hearing that your dad doesn't need cataract surgery yet

Wednesday: happy photography customers; running for the first time in two weeks; knowing exactly what to get your mom for an early birthday present; trick-or-treaters; a call from your son

Thursday: the smiling faces of friends dropping by to see you and your parents; finally getting your dad to follow his morning medication regimen; home health nurses; online bill paying from anywhere; watching Ellen with your mom; hearing your parents kiss goodnight 

Friday: angels who protect and cushion your mom when she falls so she isn't seriously injured; being there for your parents in an emergency; "character" patients you can listen to when you have to spend the night in the Emergency Room; staying wide awake for 36 hours so you can finish up tasks for your parents and still safely drive home, despite huge traffic jams; the autumn sun setting in the Texas Hill Country

Saturday: time for a walk with your husband and puppies before heading to work; friends who voluntarily drop in and bring food to your parents; sons who want to spend the weekend with their grandparents

Sunday: worshiping with your husband; working within view of a vineyard in the Texas Hill Country on an autumn day

Monday: sleeping in; a long morning walk with your puppies and your camera; finding one Mexican hat blooming near your pond, reluctant to let go of summer; a haircut and color by awesome Michael

 

 

Hope your coming week is full of sweet! moments!

P.S. Tom's youngest brother John has spent the last 2 days in Intensive Care with asthma. According to the last report, he was off the ventilator and able to breathe again, and on the verge of leaving ICU for a regular room.

Great news! But please keep him in your prayers. Besides being a great brother and brother-in-law, husband, dad to four, and godfather to TG, he's an awesome Phoenix policeman. Click HERE to see how he coaxed a confession from a murderer several years ago.

P.S.S. In case I don't get a chance to post this tomorrow...GO VOTE!

 

Good (Halloween) Morning

I might see some trick-or-treaters this evening. I'm excited about that.

When you live a mile down a dirt road in a Hollow of few houses and no small children, Halloween is like any other night. Quiet. No one ever comes to your door. Even when my kids were actively hustling for candy, I had to drive them from house to house, or at least to another neighborhood where they could walk door-to-door.

But I'm still here at Mama and Daddy's, in my old neighborhood of side-by-side wood-shingled houses connected by sidewalks perfect for the travels of little goblins and princesses. I plan to sit near the front door with my camera handy. And, of course, a bowl of candy.

I was supposed to be heading home this morning, but, as often happens in life, things didn't work out the way we thought they would. Home healthcare wasn't in place when Daddy was discharged and I can't leave until it is.

My sister has that wheel turning now, working with the doctor's office and an agency, and fingers-crossed it'll be in place Friday so I can get home in time to work this weekend.

But flexibility is my word right now. 

Transitions are tough, and I sympathize with  Daddy's frustration over his new medicines and changes in his morning routine: Take blood pressure. If it's above this, take this pill. If it's above that, take another. Also take two others that have long multi-syllable names that sound alike and even I can't pronounce. Wait an hour. Eat. Take another handful of pills with similar names.

One day, God willing I live thirty more years, it will be me frustrated over my rebellious body and doctors and prescriptions.

I'm going through my own transition right now, missing my morning routine of a walk with the puppies. I miss working on my book, editing and posting photos to sell. I miss sweating and pushing my body through those work-outs I had come to dread.

Daddy feels great...and not-so-great. His medicine has side-effects, apparently. He has no restrictions except driving and lifting, so he's trying to do everything else he did before...wheeling Mama from room to room, getting her nebulizer medicine ready, feeding the cats, sweeping.

Except for carrying the full laundry basket and lifting the wheelchair and anything else over 10 pounds, I let him, while I focus on phone calls: the plumber, making follow-up appointments, getting his prescriptions filled, talking to pharmacists and nurses about them, and writing up a schedule to make it easier for him to keep track of it all. Today I'm going to try to organize a cabinet or counter to keep it all handy and organized.

One scary moment yesterday: The pharmacy wrote the complete opposite instructions on one of his blood pressure medicines than what I had been told by the nurse. I called the pharmacy and they said "Oops!" What if I hadn't spotted it? 'Oops' is an understatement.

No, I won't go there. I know I can't stay here indefinitely.

I can only do what I can do today, and I don't want to miss the precious moments of the here and now, which include spending time with my parents and handing out Halloween candy... and remembering a time, not so long ago, when it was my own little Power Rangers (and goblins and pirates and cowboys and snow leopards and wizards and ninjas and skeletons and devils and bunnies...) who knocked on that very door, calling "Trick or Treat" to their delighted grandparents. 

 

 Happy Halloween!!

Those of you on the east coast affected by Sandy are in my prayers!

A Week of Blessings

This is the way I remember it:

Tom and I were driving down the highway, headed to Houston's Methodist Hospital for the first time, because Daddy was about to have surgery for an abdominal aneurism. I was pregnant with my first baby and worried about Daddy.  I was praying, praying, praying...

...and then I was crying, crying, crying, because Bread's Everything I Own came on the radio. I was afraid my baby would never know its grandfather. I was afraid I wouldn't have my Daddy to hug and laugh with anymore.

"Is there someone you know,
you're loving them so,
but taking them all for granted.
You may lose them one day,
someone takes them away,
and they don't hear the words you long to say."

I was afraid.

But Daddy made it through that surgery, hallelujah, and the next and the next and the next... you name a surgery on the body's cardiovascular system and he's had it at least once, with a few strokes and seizures in between. I've lost count.

He always bounces back, strong and vigorous, and except for all of the scars, you'd never know he's had so much go wrong inside. 

This latest was his fourth carotid artery surgery - he's had two on each side. I wonder if that's a record?

His mini-stroke on his birthday weekend was from a slight blockage in the left carotid, but in the follow-up arteriogram this past Tuesday, the doctors saw that his right carotid was about 95% blocked and required immediate surgery. The left one could wait.

During the actual surgery they discovered it was closer to 98% blocked, plus the old graft had weakened and an aneurism had developed. A ticking time bomb in my Daddy's neck.

I'm happy to report the doctors were able to diffuse the bomb. Daddy made it through yet another surgery, just fine, this past Thursday. I spent several days there, taking over his role as my mom's caregiver, making sure she was able to be at his side every day.

I tell you, there's nothing sweeter than helping your mom stand up to give your dad a kiss in his hospital bed, seeing the love shining in their eyes as they lean in for that touch and to say 'I love you' one more time.

I'll be headed back again to Houston this evening, after a big photography job my sweet friend Darla got for me. I also needed to come home to do laundry (I only went prepared for two nights), pay bills, and check on my baby girl who came down with pneumonia this week.

There were a few stressful, tearful, hurt and even angry hours when plans I thought I had in place for when I was gone crumbled. But I should have remembered the message on the penny in my pocket: "In God We Trust". Everything worked out, thanks to my sister, my niece, my parents' neighbors, and my son.

Yes, that same little boy who grew inside of me on my first trip to Methodist hospital, who perhaps sensed my tears and worry, not only got to spend lots of time with my mom and dad, but he headed down a highway himself yesterday from Austin to be there for his grandparents and ease my mind. 

Life is full of sweet blessings.

Here are a few others I noticed over the past week.

 

Monday: managing to miss the traffic jams in both Austin and Houston; arriving at your parents' house, safe and sound

Tuesday: helping your mom and dad; meeting interesting, kind people in the hospital; prayers from your friends; sleeping with your mom

Wednesday: helpful, caring people; laughter in a hospital; nurses 

Thursday: watching your parents kiss before your dad heads into surgery; eating omelettes with your mom after a long night sleeping in a chair; gospel singers serenading the ICU waiting room; a familiar, friendly face sitting beside you, lending support; your dad making it through surgery just fine; your baby girl who has pneumonia finally getting in to see a doctor and getting a prescription

Friday: seeing your dad sitting up in a chair beside his ICU bed, eating soup, and then getting released to a regular room; people who step in to help care for your parents when you have to leave, who understand caring for loved ones is a privelege and blessing, not a burden; a cup of hot coffee on a cold, late night drive 

Saturday: your metal roof bathed in moonlight and a wiggly puppy greeting you on the rock path leading to your front door after too many stressful days away; snuggling into the warmth of your sleeping husband; knowing your mom and dad are okay even though you aren't there taking care of them; your son stepping in to help care for his grandparents; your zoom lens back on your camera, good as new; bringing groceries to your sick baby girl and seeing with your own eyes that she's okay; reassurance from a nurse friend that your dad's hallucinations are normal after surgery; cyclops cookies, courtesy of your husband and middle son

Sunday: crisp, clean autumn mornings; attending Mass with your husband and son; your whole church praying for your dad

 

Thanks so much to all of you who lifted my Daddy in prayer this past week. Please continue to think of him and my mom as we deal with the next fews days and the transition back home. Also, please keep my baby girl in your prayers that she heals up from this bout of pneumonia.

I hope that even if you're going through tough, stressful times, you're still able to notice the sweet!s all around you. They're there, I promise.

A Ping-Pong, Mums, and Fossils Week

 

 

Ping-pong season has arrived! Afternoon temperatures are still flirting with the 90's, but cool fronts have pushed the mosquitos and most of the humidity off of the front porch, so Tom set up the table Saturday afternoon and we played for the first time in months, listening to music and talking about random stuff while we hit the ball back and forth. 

We don't keep score. We have no rules at all. The object of our game is to hit the ball back across to the other side of the net. It doesn't matter how many times it bounces or if it bounces off the wall or if it bounces at all.

The thing is, if it gets past you, you're the one who has to chase it down and pick it up. Oh, my back! Great incentive.

 I decided in the middle of the 'game' I wanted a photo of the ball bouncing at me.

Tom, bless his heart, never protested as I asked him to hit it repeatedly toward me and my camera. And I kept trying, even though it meant I had to chase that ball down every time.

Alas, I never got a clear shot. In fact, except for the one above of the ball rolling toward me, I only captured it in one other photo, and it's just an orange blur. It was just too fast for my trigger finger.

Other than that, it was the perfect way to say goodbye to the sun on a Saturday afternoon.

Here are some other sweet! moments from the past week...

 

Tuesday: kids checking out books at school libraries; catching up on a week's worth of email; a friend bringing you a hot cup of tea when you're freezing; remembering to get your dress from the cleaners; a walk in the rain with your puppies after work

 

 

Wednesday: two of your photos, blown up onto a stretched canvas, arriving in the mail; a webinar on writing children's books; decluttering a corner of your house; laughing with your husband over a new "Modern Family" episode

Thursday: preparing for a school book fair; helping a friend celebrate the 10th anniversary of her business; an afternoon walk with your puppies; a call from a dear friend, just to catch up; finishing the design of your business cards

 

 

Friday: shopping at school book fairs; the tinkling of homecoming mum bells; playing ping-pong on an autumn afternoon; finally watching "The Cider House Rules"; a call that your zoom lens is fixed and ready to be picked up (again!)

 

 

Saturday: sleeping in; the sight of your son stepping through the front door on a quick visit home; a walk with your puppies, husband, and son before heading to work; finding fossils; your team winning its football game, after a little losing streak

 

Belle's happy to see him, too!

 

Sunday: attending Mass with your husband; burros grazing beside the highway; meeting a woman who is producing a documentary on child trafficking in America (more on that later!); the sight of momma cows leading their babies along a fence line; a glimpse of deer disappearing into the woods near your house; a call from your oldest baby

Monday: the moment the sun first peeks over a hilltop into your hollow

 

I hope your past week was full of sweet! moments and you discover even more in the coming week!

P.S. I'm headed to Houston today to be with my mom and dad as Daddy goes in to get the blockages in his carotid arteries removed (again!) Please keep all of us in your prayers, especially Daddy and his doctors! Thank you!

 

 

Leaves for Leontien

 

I'm adding these leaves to a bouquet Nancy at A Rural Journal is gathering for fellow blogger Leontien at Four Leaf Clover Dairy , to show her she's in the hearts and minds of many.

Leontien is battling melanoma for the second time.

The leaves are budding from a tree near the creek we thought we'd lost in the drought. Just a reminder to Leontien and all of us to never give up hope.

Life is full of surprises.

Sending light and love your way, Leontien!

 

A Blessed Birthday

For two mornings in a row, sunlight has found me snuggled under the covers in my grandmother's room, waking in the warm embrace of so many memories. But for the first time that I can remember, Daddy hasn't been already up and sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee, newspaper spread before him. 

This morning, I tiptoed through the kitchen to the back room, unable to stay in bed any longer. But yesterday I let myself fall back asleep, tired from a late night, and not wanting to wake him and my mom up, knowing they had to be more tired than I was.

I had planned to drive in yesterday morning to celebrate Daddy's 86th birthday, which is today. But after a phone call from my sister Friday evening, letting me know Mama thought Daddy had had a stroke earlier that day and urging her to call 911 since Daddy wouldn't let Mama, I tossed some clothes in a bag and hit the road. 

By the time I pulled into Houston close to midnight, Daddy "felt fine" and, against the hospital's advice, had my niece drive them home. 

He did look normal to me. His voice has gotten weak, thanks to a paralized vocal cord from a major stroke years ago, and his walk has slowed quite a bit, but he was up and attending to my mom, who is mostly in a wheelchair these days because of weak muscles (the drug Zocor literally ate holes in her muscles after briefly using it a few years ago) and breathing problems (asthma).

The hospital said he'd had a TIA, or mini-stroke, so yesterday I kept a close watch on him. At times he seemed weak. His speech would get tangled up periodically and his headache returned for awhile. But then he'd be his old self again and I'd breathe. I stayed on him to drink lots of water and eat. (The man who used to graze all day long is now never hungry.) 

So this morning, when he finally stepped into the kitchen, his usual smile on his face, I was especially grateful for the chance to say "Happy birthday, Daddy!" and give him a big hug.

There will be cake and ice cream and singing this afternoon. But I'll be celebrating my Daddy all day.

 

Here are a few sweets from the past week...  

Monday: a day to play catch-up and dust off to-do lists; the Beach Boys singing to you while you run

Tuesday: crisp autumn mornings; progress on your book; pepperoni rolls and agave wheat beer on a restaurant patio with 2/3 of your kids and your husband on a beautiful evening in Austin; grocery shopping with your daughter

Wednesday: frisky puppies; a potential sale of one of your photos; dinner and a funny movie with friends, celebrating a birthday

Thursday: working in the school library, with a view of the rolling hills; finishing Season 4 of Breaking Bad

Friday: working a second day in the school library; helping kids find books they want; people who adopt their foster children; kids with good manners; a golden-egg-moon rising to keep you company on a long drive; prayers for your Daddy; instead of visiting your Daddy in the hospital, you get to see him walking and talking like normal at your childhood home; hugs from your Daddy

Saturday: waking in your childhood home; a home, full of family; your youngest son helping his big brother move into a new apartment; the sight of your two sons standing in the doorway after a long day of moving and hours on the road

Sunday: being able to wish your Daddy a happy 86th birthday and give him a birthday hug in person

 

What were some of the sweets from your past week? Share them here, including a link if you write about them.

Hope you all have a beautiful Sunday. I would appreciate prayers for my Daddy and Mama! 

 

What would I do...?

 

As she has for more than ten years, my sister joined me and my girlfriends at the beach this past weekend.

From my earliest memory, Brenda has been my closest friend, and, along with my mother, my role model and inspiration.  Despite the eight years between us and my bratty personality, when I was little she often let me tag along with her. She drove me and my friends places, and as I got older, was there whenever I needed support or just someone to laugh or cry with.

When we were younger, we spent lots of time together (she was the best big sister ever!) but eventually husbands, kids, and my move to another town made it difficult to have more than brief visits. So I really looked forward to these annual trips to the coast and long hours to relax together.

However, this year I was torn. Brenda's Parkinson's disease hasn't been an issue, but a hip injury isn't healing as well as we hoped and, as much as I wanted to see her, I worried the trip would aggravate the injury, that she would overdo it between sitting in a vehicle for hours and walking too much, even with her cane or walker. She had taken several trips the past year and always seemed to have a setback and be in pain afterwards. 

On her part, she worried she would be a burden on everyone, that her mobility issues would prevent her from doing any cooking or cleaning.

That's when my friends proved they've embraced her as their sister, too...

"Does anyone think this woman would be a burden?  Should I just go get her & force her into my vehicle? Is there a rule that she HAS to shop or cook?  Wouldn't we all take care of each other?  Brenda.....PLEEEZ come with me!"

"Absolutely no rule that says she has to do a thing, Brenda we need you there. there are plently of us to take care of the grocery stop, the preparing of food. You just come relax."

And Mary Kay pointed out that she needed someone to stay and watch movies with her while the rest of us went dancing.

So once again, Brenda joined us in Port A, and I'll be eternally grateful to those wonderful friends who helped soothe her fears and mine so I could have another great weekend with my big sister. 

Although she's always looked forward to taking that drive alone, this year Brenda hitched a ride with Patti, my sweet Deer Park Diva friend who joined us this year. And everyone stepped up to help her with whatever she needed, whether it was a drink, a steady hand, or just company.

Brenda has always been independent, always been the one to step up and help others, never worried about what anyone thought about her. She's stubborn and doesn't take crap off of anyone, but no matter what hurdle or trial she faced, her Pollyanna spirit shone through and helped her find a bright side. 

So I know it was tough for her to admit her limitations, but even tougher to ask for help. To accept that help. But as usual, she faced that fear. By voicing it, she zapped it of its strength and found a way around it. And I'm glad.

What would I do if I were not afraid?

~ Martha E. Manglesdorf

 

I thought of Brenda when I read that quote yesterday, then I asked...What am I afraid of? What am I letting fear keep me from doing?

In the past, the fear of failure kept me from trying new things. While I'm no longer afraid of rejection slips, they still make me wince.

Too often I've let the fear of other people's opinions guide my steps instead of being true to myself and having faith in my own opinions. I've been afraid of speaking in public or standing in front of large crowds. (It kept me from taking part in my senior class play.) Now it doesn't bother me. Much.

Fear for my kids - for their health, happiness, work... heck, their very souls -  hovers in the recesses of my heart, but I'm much better about turning that fear over to God and trusting Him to take care of it and show me how to help. I've found handing fears over to God is a great way to get rid of them.

A little harder to let go of is my fear of sinking deeper into debt. It's that fear - and the fear of Tom keeling over from the stress of it - that keeps me from diving headfirst into my writing and photography, buying equipment and books and attending all the conferences and courses that are "recommended".

But I've torn free from it enough to keep moving forward with those dreams, finding my way along the old, slower (free!) highways instead of the faster tollways. 

So... what would you do if you weren't afraid? 

 

My beautiful sister and our beautiful friends. To read more about how awesome my sister is, click HERE and HERE.

Rainy Days, for a change

Gray clouds arrived in our area Thursday, causing flash floods just down the road, washing away boat docks that had been sitting on dry ground for two years... long enough for grass to grow underneath.

Drought to flood - that's how it goes around here lately.

I took this on Thursday morning. I stood on what used to be part of a pond. 

 

This is what it looked like Saturday morning.

 

Thank goodness the rain slowed its zeal and settled into a nice, steady rhythm the past three days that allowed the water to soak deep into the thirsty ground instead of falling so fast it becomes a destructive, dangerous mob.

We still need more of the slow, steady stuff, but I was relieved to see the gray clouds break last night in an explosion of blue sky and orange clouds, just in time for my oldest to head to his (other) home.  I was grateful for the rain, but more grateful he wouldn't have to drive in it.

 

 

 

I skipped my writing critique group last night because Tommy was going to hang around until after dinner. Perhaps that's not very professional and indicates I'm not serious about my writing, but above and beyond any other hat I wear, I'm Mom and grab any chance I can to soak up the sight of one of my kids...

 

 ...or a grandpuppy.

That's GPuppy Josie on the left, and my Belle on the right. Can you tell they're related?

 

They aren't really related, of course, not technically. But Josie was such an awesome dog, that when we saw the puppy photos of Belle, how could we resist not bringing that precious Rottweiler-mix face home?

Now I'm on to a new week, one that already has so many fires burning that I don't know which one to put out first. But it's a week full of sweet! potential. Hope yours is the same!

Here are a few sweet!s from the past week...

Sunday: an unexpected afternoon off, to piddle around the house; a text from a friend, out of the blue, even if it's a photo of a motorcycle he just bought, reinforcing your belief that he's in the midst of a mid-life crisis

 

 

Monday: meeting a porcupine on your morning walk; your puppies actually minding you and not taking off after before-mentioned porcupine;sipping coffee on a crisp autumn morning, watching the sun slip into your Hollow; meeting dear friends for dinner to help celebrate a birthday; rediscovering your taste for beer 

 

 

Tuesday: running the whole three miles for the first time since your vacation; seeing your future-daughter-in-law, dressed in THE wedding dress; Panda Express orange chicken; finding a dress for your high school reunion and one for THE wedding in one store, in one trip, and having a 20% off coupon with you; a quick hug from your baby; your husband's back well enough to help carry groceries into the house

Wednesday: connecting with another friend from the past; your cataract not growing at all in a year; a block of time to work on your children's book; your baby girl calling before you call her; good news from your sister; rocking on a porch with a dog at your feet, watching the setting sun kiss the clouds; your husband turning into a little boy at the sight of a tarantula and a snake

 

 

 

 

 

 

Thursday:; not having to leave your house for anything except your morning walk with your puppies; making progress on your book; rain falling outside your window, all day long

Friday: walking in the rain, for the first time in months; friends letting you know about the bomb threat to, and subsequent evactuation of, your baby girl's college; hearing your baby girl's voice, knowing she's okay; two more episodes of Breaking Bad with your sweetieR 

Saturday: getting to share the Sally O'Malley Rockettes video with another friend for her 50th birthday; tall purple gayfeathers lining the roads; the smell of bread baking in the oven; a visit from your son and grandpuppy; saving almost $3K by switching insurance companies

Sunday: praying beside your husband and son in church; mist draped across the hills; homemade biscuits smothered in wild boar sausage gravy; potato and leek soup on a rainy day; hearing two favorite songs you haven't heard in ages (more on those later); your son and grandpuppy waiting for you to get home from work before heading back to their home; a glorious sunset after a day of steady rainfall

 

I hope you are stepping into a week full of sweet! moments! Remember, sometimes the simplest are the sweetest! Share them here! 

Lessons

Lord, take me where you want me to go;
Let me meet who you want me to meet;
Tell me what you want me to say; and
Keep me out of your way.

- Fr. Mychal Judge, FDNY (died 9/11/01)

 

 

Every year in late September, early October, I head to the coast with a group of friends for some beach therapy. Our annual adventure is coming up soon, in fact. We've gone every year since 1999 - except one. 

That September of 2001 we were counting down the days until we could wave goodbye to our families, ready for some alone time.... a few days not having to do anything for anyone but ourselves.

But on the afternoon of the 11th, we changed our minds. We no longer wanted to wave goodbye to our families - we wanted to wrap them around us, so close and tight we could feel their breath and smell their familiar sweetness.  

It wasn't a decision driven by fear. We knew the odds of some terrorist targeting our little Texas Hill Country town, or the little fishing town on the Gulf where we sought some peace and quiet, were slim to none.

But as that day progressed, we were reminded not to take our loved ones or the time we have with them for granted. Not to let a day go by without making sure they knew they were our whole world. Not to forget that every morning we may be opening our eyes to our very last day on this earth.

So that autumn we soaked up our families instead of the sunshine. We stayed close to home, pondered the changes in our country and our world. We prayed for peace.

But the next year we packed our swimsuits, sunscreen, magazines, Bloody Mary mix, and vodka, and headed for the beach. We've done so ever since. We continued our lives, relished our freedom, refusing to let fear mold our lives, for that would allow the terrorists to win. 

But we haven't forgotten the lessons we learned on September 11, 2001 and the days that followed, about the things that truly matter and the steel-strength of this nation. We haven't forgotten how we overcame our differences, although some days (especially around election time) it's hard to believe. We haven't forgotten those ordinary citizens who were called to be heroes - and accepted the call. We haven't forgotten that by going about our lives, speaking our minds and sticking up for one another, we are fighting a war - and winning.

 

 

 

 

"This day and every day. Tear us down and we WILL rebuild. Knock us down and we WILL arise. We are people of diverse faith, ideologies, and color. We may be distracted or divided by internal matters, such as politics, but we are America and we will remain." 

~Johnny "Happy" Valentine, veteran and teacher

Thirty Years and other sweet!s

Last Monday Tom and I celebrated our thirtieth anniversary.

(Yikes! Thirty years??!!)

Because of circumstances, we didn't have time to buy each other a card, much less a gift, but his youngest brother and his wife surprised us with a cake, a dozen beautiful salmon-colored roses, a six-pack of Shiner Bock, and a funny anniversary card signed by everyone. 

Later, after the Rosary and visitation for Pop, we shared an intimate Mexican food dinner with forty-plus other Shallue relatives. And sometime that day (or maybe the next... they all blurred together) he serenaded me with Leon Russell's "A Song for You", one of our favorites.

Father Don presented us with a certificate from the diocese this morning, congratulating us for sticking it out through thick and thin for thirty years. After Mass, a woman told me the first thirty are the hardest. She then shared (with tears in her eyes) that her husband died soon after their thirty-first anniversary.

I promised her and myself that I wouldn't take a single day for granted, but would give thanks for each day Tom and I have together from here on out.

I hope she's right about the toughest part being behind us, though. Lord have mercy, Tom can irritate me, and I know I drive him at least a teensy bit crazy.

But thirty years, three kids, and a good balance of tears and laughter equals lots and lots and lots of love.  We're blessed, and we know it. I think we might just make it.

 

Here are some other sweet! moments from the past week:

 

Saturday: spotting a little girl wearing Minnie Mouse ears in church; your kids stopping to visit your parents in Houston on their way to Florida

Sunday: your kids arriving in Florida, safe and sound, without killing each other; being surrounded by family, watching the closing ceremony of the Olympics, and playing cards  

Monday: remembering your wedding day; a photo shoot of your nephew and his very pregnant wife on the beach; anniversary surprises from your in-laws; joining with family to pray the Rosary for your father-in-law; dinner with forty-plus relatives, all at the same table (well, several joined to make one)

 

 

 

Tuesday: words of comfort at your father-in-law's funeral; friends who support you during sad times; a Twenty-One Gun Salute; helping to celebrate your nephew's 12th birthday; cheesecake; sisters-in-law

Wednesday: a rainbow in the sky on your way to church; a call from a dear friend; winning three games of 3-13; helping to celebrate your brother-in-law's 51st birthday; a call that your kids made it back home; safe and sound; friends who care for your puppies when you have to be away

Thursday: running after a week of sitting; more 3-13 and laughter with family; looking back at the photos of family over the past month

Friday: drinking coffee from Pop's thermos; clear skies for your drive home; a detour for lunch (and hugs and kisses) with your parents; the first sight of home, after two weeks away

Saturday: a morning walk with your puppies for the first time in two weeks; a few hours to catch up on bills and laundry before heading to work; a homemade caramel and chocolate dessert; falling in bed after 7 hours on your feet

Sunday: a blessing from your church family for your thirtieth anniversary; chef-prepared fried redfish, mushrooms, broccoli, and cauliflower

 

...and don't forget it!

Sweets...Sorrows

Pop passed away early Thursday afternoon.

Those words are so hard to type; I couldn't do it here before today.

Thank you for all of the prayers and light sent his way, and ours. We believe his passing, and the way he passed, was an answer to prayers, probably even his own... so peaceful, his sons and beloved wife of 60 years by his side, holding his hands, whispering their love, letting him go to the next life, painfree and joyful.

These fragile bodies of ours aren't meant to last forever - what more could we ask?

I have heard about the Angels of Hospice, but this was my first experience with the loving care, consideration and respect they pour upon patients and their families. If you ever doubt there is goodness in the world, spend a day in a hospice center and your faith will be restored. I believe every member of the staff of Covenant Hospice in West Florida Hospital in Pensacola, from the doctor to the woman who mopped the floors, is an angel.

This week has been a blur, but moments of sweetness still swirled through the sorrow... 

.....arriving in time to whisper your love and say goodbye to your dear father-in-law; listening to childhood stories of your husband and brothers that trigger a laugh from their dad; supporting your husband, his brothers, and your mother-in-law when their hearts are breaking; the loving care of hospice workers; calls and messages of love and prayers from friends and family; the fierce love of sons for their father and mother

Thank you again for your sweet messages and prayers, and please keep them coming as Mom, Tom, and his brothers adjust to life without Pop.

Kenneth Peter Shallue, beloved husband and father, passed from this life on Thursday, August 9, 2012. Born on September 9, 1929, he is survived by his wife of 60 years, Mary (Janie) Shallue and nine sons, Kenneth (Cathy), Randall (Mary Lou), Thomas (Barbara), Steven (Kim), Joseph (Erin), Russell (Laura), Michael (Lisa), Robert (Joan), and John (Yadira), as well as siblings Dorothy Place (Greg), Mary Jane Andrastik (Ron), Patrick Shallue (Judy), Larry Shallue (Cathy), Michael Shallue (Paulette), Danny Shallue (Cathy), and Charles Shallue (Mary). Twenty-seven grandchildren and four great-grandchildren will also miss playing cards and fishing with their Pop-Pop.
MSGT Shallue retired from the USAF in 1972. He was an active Knight of Council 7027 and a 4th Degree member of Assembly 2823 with the Knights of Columbus of Milton.

To read more about Pop, read The Leader of the Pack I wrote in honor of his birthday three years ago.

Rest in peace, Pop. I love you and I'm going to miss seeing that twinkle in your eye.

O my God, fill my soul with holy joy,
courage and strength to serve you.
Enkindle your love in me and then walk with me
along the next stretch of road before me.
I do not see very far ahead, but when I have arrived
where the horizon now closes down,
a new prospect will open before me,
and I shall meet it with peace. Amen.

- St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross

 

Fathers-in-law, prayers, and other blessings

Tom was sitting on the porch swing when I came home late last night after a double shift at the winery.

The look on his face let me know something was wrong, but several long seconds went by before he was able to tell me what it was: his father had suffered a stroke that morning, and the prognosis wasn't good.

This morning we received some positive news, but much prayer is still needed. Would you mind stopping a moment right now and saying one for our sweet Pop, Ken Shallue? While you're at it, please slip in a few extras for Tom, his mom, and eight brothers.

Thank you so, so much.

 

Just a fraction of the Shallue clan gathered in Florida last week, related by birth or marriage to that wonderful couple in the middle. 

 

And now, here are a few of the sweet!s I listed from the past week...

 

Tuesday: your mom and dad finally finding a good doctor and getting treatment of their summer colds; being able to stay home all day and move closer to getting caught up on things

Wednesday: getting re-blonded; watching your son try to lasso a stray cow in the brush at night; a beautiful full moon right at dusk 

Thursday: horses and new friends on your country road; an offer to ride a neighbor's horse; a 5-hour lunch with a friend at a restaurant overlooking the lake; your stray cow watered, fed, and taken to a good pasture; your puppies in the house for hours with no accidents

Friday: running into neighbors you rarely see on your morning walk; a block of time for writing; putting out the fire you started on your grill before it has a chance to spread (whew!); watching two more episodes of Breaking Bad with your hubby

Saturday: time for a walk with your puppies before heading to work at a winery on a beautiful morning; a couple celebrating their 10th anniversary dressed in their wedding clothes; another couple celebrating their 60th wedding annniversary at the winery, even if they're not dressed in their wedding clothes; tons of prayer for your father-in-law, who you discover had a stroke earlier in the day, but your husband didn't let you know because he didn't want to upset you while you were at work

Sunday: positive news about your father-in-law; love and prayers from friends for your family; attending Mass with your husband and son

 

Thank you again for your prayers. I hope you have a week full of sweet!s and remember not to take the blessings in your life for granted.

Surprise Visitors and other Sweet!s of the Week

I was typing away at my keyboard yesterday, staring glaze-eyed at the monitor, when there came this loud ruckus outside my window.

Jumping  up, I spotted a roadrunner peering at me through the window. I'm still not sure what made all the noise... it was just sitting there looking all innocent on my deck railing.

He was sweet enough to stay put long enough for me to grab a quick photo. I wish I'd had my zoom lens on my camera instead of my 50mm, but all things considered, I'm grateful I got one this good! 

Sweet! 

 

And now for a few more sweet! moments from my past week... 

Sunday: popcorn and finishing Season 1 of Breaking Bad with your sweetie

Monday: remembering how twenty-one years ago you saw your baby girl's big blue eyes for the very first time and how you fell deeply in love with that tiny pink bundle in your arms; an apology and satisfying resolution to an issue that had your blood boiling; sister-in-laws; celebrating your baby's birthday with her

Tuesday: helping your husband rescue a teetering Suzuki Samurai without it tumbling into a ravine with you in it; friends joining in prayer for another friend; words of encouragement from friends on your art; reliving wonderful memories through photos 

Wednesday: walking your puppies in the soft gray of the morning; using your time and talent for your church; pink and orange sunsets over the hills

Thursday: a long overdue haircut; being on time for appointments despite bad traffic; spotting a baby deer lounging in the woods along your dirt road; a roadrunner hopping onto the fence outside your window while you work and staying long enough to get a (moderately good) photo

Friday: friends you can depend on to help your parents when you're too far away to do it yourself; lunch and yakking with sweet friends; money in your mailbox

Saturday: 2/3 of your kids sleeping under your roof; help from friends; looking forward to seeing family you rarely get to see

 

I'll be busy, busy, busy this next week, focused on family, so if you don't see me popping up on your blogs or Facebook, that's why. I  hope you have a week full of sweet! moments yourself!

Remember...

"There is no such thing in one’s life as an unimportant day."

Alexander Wolcott

 

 

They grow so fast...

They grow so fast, our little girls.

One minute they're so small, dependent, glued to your side for protection and comfort...

...the next they're letting go,

passing you up,

ready to face the world on their own.

It makes you proud.

It makes you wistful.

It makes you feel so, so blessed.

Happy 21st birthday to my baby girl.

Even though a part of me will always remember and ache for that tiny little girl who loved to be carried,

I'm so proud of your independence, your spunk, your perseverence and fire, and the loving heart it all protects.

May God bless you with discomfort
At easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships
So that you may live deep within your heart

May God bless you with anger
At injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people,
So that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears
To shed for those who suffer pain, rejection, hunger and war,
So that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and
To turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness
To believe that you can make a difference in the world,
So that you can do what other claim cannot be done
To bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.

Amen

~Philip Yancey

Feels so right on a Friday the 13th

I've been sitting here listening to Alabama's Greatest Hits, getting all sappy, thinking back to another Friday the 13th almost 30 years ago when I said "I do"...

... and thinking even further back to that night at Gilley's just a year earlier when Alabama sang "Feels so right..." and Tom and I were the only ones on the dance floor...

We weren't really the only ones dancing, of course, but it felt that way, and it already felt so right being there in his arms, just twenty-four hours after seeing his face for the very first time.

It felt so right that if you had told me back then there would be days in the next 31 years when we didn't know if we'd make it, days when we didn't even like each other, I would have laughed at you.

Who knew marriage could sometimes feel like running a three-legged race in the dark over a dangerous obstacle course?

You would think that time together would help you grow stronger, to work more like a team, that the obstacles would get smaller and easier to maneuver with every passing year.

But just recently so many of our friends have gone their separate ways after decades together that I'm wondering if midlife is perhaps the biggest obstacle of them all? An avalanche of issues left lying unresolved or ignored, like child-rearing philosophies and financial stresses and unfulfilled dreams and buried jealousies and hurt feelings and wounded pride, piling up higher and higher until all it takes is a look or one sarcastic word to send it all crashing.

How does anyone survive something like that without superhuman powers?

The thing is, many do. I'm grateful we have so far. Very, very grateful.

My arsenol of secret weapons includes remembering how right it felt in those first few days... that "Oh, it's you!" realization when I first looked into his eyes... and believing with a certainty that erased all traces of agnosticism in my mind and heart that God brought us together.

However, that certainty doesn't lull me into taking it for granted our marriage will survive the obstacles still waiting for us there in the dark of the future without a fierce determination to get through them together, and plenty of secret weapons.

In fact, I think that may be another secret weapon - don't take your marriage, or your love, for granted. Ever. Period.

But the secret weapon I use the most? Prayer.

 

When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams
as the north wind lays waste the garden.

But if in your fear you would seek only love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.
Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love. 

~ From Kahlil Gibran on Love and Marriage

 

*thank you for taking this photo of us, Rae! It's still one of my favorites!

Rain, Rain, Rain, Rain!

It rained today. That makes four days in a row God has opened up dark clouds right over the Hollow, releasing the glorious gift of water hidden within. Hallelujah!!

We desperately need the rain, so I won't complain about having to shut down my computer every few hours because of lightning.

It's not like I don't have plenty to do away from the computer. Yesterday I spent an hour or two sorting through papers in my file cabinet, trying not to think about my book or my blogs or all the photos I need to sort through and edit and post, trying hard not to grumble

Anyway, this is one of my ongoing projects that I'm not sure I'll ever finish. I recycle what I cull, cutting most of it up grocery-list-size or setting it by the printer whole to use instead of 'good' paper whenever possible. Computer printouts of the kids' college application and scholarship information, receipts for deposits, high school class schedules... argh, I save everything!

Sick of paperwork, I headed outside during the next shutdown to watch the amazing light show - but it hurt my eyes, it was so bright! As grateful as I am for the rain, I was relieved when the storm finally rumbled off into the distance, taking its sparklers with it, so I could get back to work.

Max and Belle don't like the thunder and lightning, so they've spent a lot of time indoors the past few days, relegated to a small area downstairs. Except for being stinky outdoor dogs, they're great house dogs... as in, they don't have "accidents" (except for Belle deciding to play with one of my shirts in the laundry room last week, chewing all of the buttons off of it.)

But this morning that scent hit me. You know the one! I found the source beyond their designated area. It seems Max had a tummy ache last night (dead armadillo side effects, perhaps?) but didn't want to bother us, so he climbed over the couch barricade and... well, you know... onto a rug - and some of the floor - in the television/work-out area. Let's just say both ends were working on my poor old boy.

While I was cleaning it up, I tried to think of something 'sweet!' about the situation. It was tough, but I managed... We have concrete floors! So much easier to clean than carpet or wood or even tile. Sweet! 

The rug I just wiped a little, rolled up, and tossed outside, though. Tom plans to pressure wash it, but it won't be making another appearance in my house, that's for sure. (Ewwww!) I'm perfectly happy with bare concrete floors for now!

Max seems to be feeling better, but I'm grateful the storms are giving us a reprieve so he can sleep in his own house tonight! I hope in the morning, he's back to his old playful self...

 

And now, to make up for grossing you out (but aren't you glad you weren't in my shoes?) I'll share these cute critter photos from yesterday and today...

 

The baby duck is getting big and learning more and more every day!

"Look what I can do, Ma!"

 

Look! This little woodpecker has a mohawk!

Isn't he precious?

 

I spotted a young squirrel going through her morning grooming routine.

She was very fastidious!

Squirrel and I are praying you can find the sweet! in every situation!

Almonds and other sweet!s of the week

He was dirty and carried a cardboard sign ever closer to my car that said something like "Homeless Need a Job Hungry God Bless." 

I focused on the "hungry" and rolled down my window. My son was with me, so I felt safe.

"Would you like some almonds?" I asked, holding out a snack-sized ziplock bag full of them. I always have almonds with me to ward off hunger pains in a healthy way when I'm out running errands or on a trip. I hate being hungry.

"That would be great," he answered, taking them from me. "Thank you."

The light changed. I moved forward slowly, but he walked faster toward the intersection where his backpack rested. I saw him drop his sign, but then we were past, continuing our journey.

I couldn't see what happened next in his. I like to think he dropped to the grass and ate some almonds, that he really was grateful for them and not just begging for drug or alcohol money.

I also like to think another car came by with a legitimate job offer for him and that he took it and turned his life around and then helped another corner person get moving in the right direction.

It doesn't hurt to think big.

 

Saturday: seeing a photography friend you met while at work again; talking about writing with other writers; finally hearing Duck Soup; dancing; summer nights on a hill above a lake

Sunday: watching babies and little kids in church; helping a dear friend celebrate her birthday; a call from your son; watching a movie with your sweetie

Monday: a call from a friend, even though it was mostly full of sad news; a walk at dusk 

Tuesday: a glimpse of the Great Blue Heron and your duck family; watching your old puppy swim

Wednesday: being addressed as 'Young Lady' at the grocery store; a clean house; your husband alerting you to a painted bunting; forgetting all of your to-do's to just watch the birds at your feeder 

Thursday: watching a baby duck grow day by day; relaxed hours playing catch-up with a dear friend; joining a bunch of crazy middle-aged women for a midnight movie

Friday: getting to sleep in after a late night out; iced coffee on a hot summer day; $400 in free jewelry; pink clouds; sangria on a summer night

Saturday: a road trip with your son (double sweet!... going to see your parents!); an in-person hug from your sister; eating at a Mexican food restaurant you've been going to for almost 50 years

Sunday: the sound of rain; your daddy's bacon, eggs and biscuits for breakfast; someone stopping to see if you need help when you stop on the side of the road to take photos of old trucks; having almonds in your car to give to someone in need

 

I'm not sure how they end up out of work and hungry, possibly homeless, these corner people who stand near intersections holding signs and taking almonds or spare change from open windows.

Did they drop out of school, like me? Are they habitual liars, to others and themselves, to the point that their families had to distance themselves? Do they even have families, a mother or father whose heart aches with worry and helplessness? Did one mistake lead to another and another until the weight of that burden crushed the possibility of any other chances or hope for better, and their only relief is from drugs or alcohol? Has misplaced pride bound them in its chains?

It's easy to jump to conclusions. To judge.

But I think it's a better use of time to smile and share your almonds, to say a prayer for the corner people and then one of thanks for all of your own blessings, like a job and home and family, and to vow never to take them for granted. 

Because for all of us, life can change in an instant.

Just another good reason to keep track of the sweet! moments in each day... and to carry extra almonds in your car.

 

...whispering hope

I sat on the porch swing this evening listening to David Gray and watching the cardinal couple dine at the feeder. Just as the sun slipped below the trees, I felt myself slipping, too, into worry about the future.

But right away I hit the brakes and scrambled back up to reality. It hit me that I was sitting in what used to be a future I worried about years ago. Over and over again, most likely.

And I was fine. Broke and unsure of what was ahead, but overall fine. At least in that moment, I sat on a porch swing of a dream-come-true home, healthy, knowing my kids are relatively okay and that I have friends and family and really, really good credit.

So I stopped worrying about what was around the next curve and just enjoyed those moments.

There's been so much going on, so little going on. Words are getting tangled up in my mind, but I'll try to give you an update...

Max barely ate last night. Didn't eat anything this morning. Stayed in his doghouse all day, refusing to go down to the pond with me and Belle for a swim this evening. 

My heart was breaking. He's old, and I know it, but I hate having to face it.

I fixed his dinner and called him as usual, although I really didn't expect him to respond. But he did. And he actually ate almost all of his food. Sure, I held the bowl for him while he laid in his dog bed, but we do what we have to do, don't we?

And then he barked ferociously and ran off into the woods chasing something with Belle.

I was happy again.

It rained yesterday. 

I didn't go out and dance in it, but I was tempted. I'm pretty sure my crape myrtles were dancing.

The sun came back out today, and I admit I was happy to see blue sky and fluffy white clouds. But I do hope the rain comes back soon.

Do you remember Haley, the neighbor dog with a heart of gold who was hit by a truck or something but survived because she's a rock solid pit bull?

Well, she's also a little creepy, too, like Cujo, in that you'll look up and she'll suddenly be sitting there, silently staring at you.

That's what happened this evening. But I was happy to see her because she doesn't actually live next door anymore. The son, her owner, flew the nest to a house of his own.

I've missed Haley. And I think she missed me, too. After I snapped this photo, she came over to see me, tongue hanging out.

Then she waded into our creek and ate some frogs.

 

Three pennies and a nickel sit on a shelf in my closet. Alone they wouldn't buy much, but they're worth more than their monetary value to me. Each one appeared on the ground in front of me a few weeks ago, whispering "In God We Trust" at a time when my heart was dragging behind me. Five coins in one week reminding me to trust God.

I heard "trust" whispered to me all that week from quotes, fortune cookies, songs, emails. Soft reminders that lifted my heart. 

And then the next week, just when fear of the future began sprinkling seeds of doubt, everywhere I looked I read "Courage!"

Trust, courage...

...and love, the greatest of all.

On my quick trip this past Sunday to spend Father's Day with my sweet dad, I noticed this heart-shaped reminder resting on their front porch.

And then on the drive home...

 

 ...black-eyed susans and new grass flourished beside the charcoaled trunks of pine trees near Bastrop, victims of the fires that swept through last Labor Day weekend. 

From the ashes, life arises.

Whispers of hope.

This is my command - be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. ~ Joshua 1:9

 

That's my week. How's yours going?

 

 

Kids, grandpuppies, and other sweets of the week

Nothing perks you up after a long night working a rehearsal dinner than being greeted by a bunch of kids you love, plus your grandpuppy, when your aching feet finally carry you into the house.

In my case this happened Friday night, close to midnight, and the kids included my son, his fiance, her sister, and the sister's friend.

The grandpuppy was sweet Josie, and since the kids all went tubing down the San Marcos River the next day (picking up my other two babies along the way for some sibling time) I probably saw more of Josie than anyone else this weekend.

But that's okay... it wasn't by much and I'll take what I can get! And what I got was lots of hanging out, talking, laughing, and a glowing heart from knowing all my babies were having fun together. 

My kind of weekend!

And now for a few more sweet! moments of my week...

Sunday: a call from a forever friend, and the time to talk to her; standing in the glow of the full moon on a summer night

Monday: an up-close glimpse of the neighborhood hawk couple; a forecast of rain when the ponds are drying up so fast you can almost see it happening

(unfortunately, no rain fell... still praying!)

Tuesday: overcoming all the hurdles that sprung up on the way to your day's goal; friends who take time to help you with your resume and job applications; dinner with 2/3 of your kids

Wednesday: spotting a heron couple; your husband home safe after working 16 hours through the night; lounging and swimming with friends in a backyard straight out of Home and Garden magazine; watching two precious fawns place chase on a golf course green (even though you're still kicking yourself for forgetting to grab your camera on the way out the door)

Thursday: discovering you actually captured one of yesterday's herons in your camera when you didn't think you were fast enough; a friend wanting to buy some of your beach photos

Friday: watching a red-tailed hawk fly across a pond; discovering new wildflowers popping up; vanilla bean cheesecake; couples in love; your oldest and his love waiting up to visit with you when you stumble home from work just before midnight

(buttonbush)

Saturday: a hug from your oldest first thing in the morning; listening to published authors share what they've learned; lots of in-store coupons for things you need at the grocery store; finally getting to meet with your critique group in person after having to miss several meetings; sitting around the table, talking and laughing with kids you've watched grow into adults

Sunday: a morning walk with look-alike puppies in small, medium, and large; visiting with friends after Mass; looking through a bridal magazine with your future daughter-in-law; watching an action movie with your son and his sweetie

Extra sweet!... I remembered to snap a photo of the kids before they left. 

 

 

I hope you had a week overflowing in sweet! moments and this next week remember to look for more!

Imagineers, Mountain Pinks, and Sweets of the Week

Wouldn't it be fun to answer "Imagineer" on forms asking your occupation?

I've spent the past few days filling out applications and sending my eclectic resume off with a prayer into internet-land.

"Are you our Imagineer?" was the title of one job post, and I thought "Yes! Yes, I believe I am!" I'm still waiting to see if they think so, too. So far no response. Sigh. 

I gave it my best shot trying to make ends meet with my extensive collection of part-time jobs, but it just wasn't enough, and I'm now actively looking for a real job. Not just a job, but a career that could last for years and years and years (which is kind of funny since many of my friends are counting down the days to their retirement!)

I'm looking for something that interests me, that doesn't make me writhe in anticipatory agony when I think of it, something that makes me feel I'm using and expanding my gifts. In the past those have always been jobs where I felt I was helping people and making a difference in the world.

But beggars can't be choosers, and although it can be colored and phrased in different ways, I feel we've technically crossed into begging territory.

I really don't like it. It's been a lesson in humility, one I guess I needed, but I'm ready for class to be over. So I'm sending off applications for just about anything I'm even loosely qualified for.

That's one of the problems... meeting the requirements. Many of the jobs I see that would interest me, and that I know I would do well at, require a college degree. Strike one. I anticipate strike two to be my age, and strike three to be my helter-skelter work background.

I'm not actually pessimistic about finding a job, though. I have that rumbly feeling inside that I get when I'm on the edge of an adventure, about to step through a new door. I feel God is leading me, just as I've always felt, and while I have no idea why my path continues to zig-zag, circle, and sometimes even backtrack, I trust that he has a reason for it. That's all that really matters.

So I'll just keep walking, one footstep at a time, knowing he's got the trip covered. 

This doesn't mean I'm putting my writing or my camera on a shelf. My drums might get a little dusty, but I'll keep working on my book and my blogs... continue with my freelance photography gigs... stick with Silpada and the winery... and I'm not even giving up on my personal history business. I enjoy all of them too much.

But they're like the floaties you put on your kids to keep them from drowning. Despite wearing all of them and treading my ass off in the water, we're just too heavy. We're sinking. We need a rescue boat that can get us back to dry land, ASAP!

Wish me luck! (And feel free to send me job links and tips! But only for jobs with benefits and paid vacation. I haven't had a paid day off in 15 years!)

Michael Franti's song "Hey, Hey, Hey..." was the basis for my 2011 New Year's Resolution.

It's still a great reminder that this moment we're in right now is the first step to our future, and the only one we have any control over. We shouldn't waste it.

 And now for a few sweet moments of the week... 

Sunday: catching up with friends after church; time in the car with your baby girl; husbands who can fix just about anything

Monday: a country joining together to remember and give thanks for those who sacrificed their lives to guard our freedoms; a day off with your husband; the red flash of a cardinal in the trees; progress on your book

Tuesday: living in a democracy, with the freedom to vote; running for 34 minutes when you didn't think you'd make it past 5; strawberries for dinner

Wednesday: feeling like a writer; a baby smiling at you with a wrinkled-nose, exposing two tiny teeth, while you wait in line at the drugstore; a puppy waiting for you on the doorstep when you get home; a long catch-up call from your oldest

Thursday: sunshine when your heart is cloudy; finding a lucky penny; a call from your sister; having your mom just a phone call away; friends you can talk to about anything; being able to wish your mom-in-law a happy birthday; in-person hugs from 2/3 of your kids; an errand day when everything falls together like clockwork

Friday: watching Romeo and Juliet in a high school class (skipping the love scene, don't worry) and flashing back to the first time you saw it in 1976, on a date at the Midnight Movies in downtown Houston; job ideas from friends; laughing at old episodes of "Dark Shadows" with your son; a text from your oldest with a promise for a visit

Saturday: setting teensy baby mice free in the woods (photos later); brick oven pizza; watermelon-cucumber soup; getting caught up on workplace drama; Mountain Pinks beginning to bloom

Sunday: attending Mass with your son; bags of home grown tomatoes and onions from a friend

My Sweet! list is like a bouquet of flowers I collect for myself.

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers, why don't you gather your own bouquet? ~ unknown

I hope each week you discover enough sweet! moments scattered among the not-so-sweet to create your own bouquet.

Share them here!