Long Hollow

No. 1 of 5 - Because I'm from Texas

 

1.

Well, I got me some cowboy boots.

You might recall, from my Birthday post, that some of my friends pitched in to give me a gift card to buy a pair because I kept entering contests on Facebook trying to win some.

I debated on whether to be practical and buy an iPad or groceries with the gift card, but this past week I came to my senses and used the card as they intended me to, to buy boots.

I'm a Texan, after all.

 

And because I'm a girl, I used what was left on the card for a mani/pedi. I felt very self-indulgent.

(Thank you again, sweet friends!)

 

2.

I was standing on the front porch after my morning walk, filling up the puppies' water bucket, when I heard this buzzing sound. Just three feet away from me, a tiny hummingbird was investigating our red birdhouse. He finally gave up and buzzed away, leaving me feeling very blessed. 

Some things just remain amazing, no matter how many times you see them, don't they?

 

3.

My son's wedding is getting ever closer, but I'm not nervous or anything. During my own wedding, I calmed myself down so much I was semi-comatose...sorta zombie-like, only without the killing... and barely remember it.

I hope that's not happening again...

 

4.

My professional tagline is "writer, blogger, photographer" but I often doubt the veracity of it, and this is why:

I have written a dozen blog posts this past week - in my head. You'll never read them because I've already forgotten half of them, and wouldn't have time to write them even if I did remember them. 

I have some great ideas for improving my books and stories, but haven't had time to actually sit and work on them, or start the new stories buzzing in my head, or edit the dozens of photos I've captured this past week of flowers and birds and trees and other visions of spring here in the Hollow, much less post them on sites where they can be purchased.

But I've decided to  keep the tagline and consider myself a writer, blogger, photographer on hiatus, because... 

"In the provinces of the mind, "what one believes to be true either is true or becomes true."

~Panda Express fortune

 

 

5.

What I believe:

(sign outside of our church "Garden of Eatin'")

Amen.

I hope you have a great week! 

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!

Five Things

1.

What a week full of tragedy, heartbreak, and heroism. First the bombing in Boston and subsequent acts of unselfishness and goodness that proved only light can conquer darkness...and that there's plenty of light in Boston. We witnessed it in the behavior of all of its citizens.

Next, the explosion in West, Texas, so close to home, where even more were killed and injured than in Boston. I've driven through that little town on my way somewhere else so many times, stopping for kolaches or to let the kids get rid of energy. In a tiny rural community like that a tragedy like this touches every resident and my heart goes out to them.

Now the earthquake in China. The numbers keep growing of those whose heartbreak is broadcast to all of us via the media...which means we can all pray for them. A universal prayer chain. An image glowing with light in yet another moment of darkness.

 

2.

I love sending cards to friends, but often don't have them on hand or the time to run out and buy one. So I decided to create my own...from my photographs and favorite quotes. I posted them on FineArtAmerica.com and placed my order. It arrived this week in a great box. 

I'm sending this one to all of those affected in #1, as well as anyone else reading this who is suffering loss right now.

 

 

"Oh heart, if one should say to you that the soul perishes like the body, answer that the flower withers, but the seed remains."

~ Kahlil Gibran

 

3.

Without excusing their behavior, I feel those two young men who planted the Boston bombs were merely pawns played by some greater evil who is sitting back, laughing at how they held us hostage for awhile and probably planning their next move. I pray I've raised my kids to be strong enough not to fall for false flattery, that they may never be manipulated in that way. 

4.

Just home from work yesterday evening, wondering where to get started on things I needed to do, one glance out the kitchen window put everything else on hold. A hawk perched in a tree overlooking our big pond ("big" only in comparison to our "little" pond; it's just a wide spot in a mostly dry creek right now, but it does have water!) I popped the 70-300mm lens on my camera and snapped a few through the window. Then I snuck out the front door, tiptoed around the corner, and managed to snap a few more before he swooped down to the pond. 

"Do you mind?"

They aren't great photos - he was pretty far away - but they're good enough to help me remember and be grateful that I stepped out of "to-do's" and just enjoyed the moment and this beautiful, amazing world around us.

 

5.

We're winding down to the Big Wedding of my son and his beautiful bride-to-be. For a long time the wedding was a year away, and now suddenly it's almost here! How does that happen?

So please don't forget me if I continue to be AWOL from your blogs for awhile, and negligent of emails and Facebook posts. But as my mom pointed out, Tommy's wedding is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things. A time to forget about the world and to-do lists and worries about the future, and focus, instead, on love and family and today.

"Once in awhile, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale." 

 
--Anonymous 

I Blame LinkedIn

Instead of exercising this morning before heading to work, I made the mistake of clicking on my LinkedIn profile when I got on the computer to pay some bills. By the time I finished updating it, I was scrambling to make it to work on time.

So as soon as I stepped in the door this evening after work, I changed into my work-out clothes, determined to keep up my routine. But I was starving. First I would eat, then I would work out.

But I couldn't work out right after eating, could I? So I cleaned off my desk and sat down to finish paying bills until enough time had passed that I wouldn't puke when I jumped rope.

Money on my brain, or rather the lack thereof, I couldn't resist clicking on the email from LinkedIn telling me about jobs I might like. 

Well, I didn't like any of those, but I kept clicking and found one that actually did appeal to me and matched my experience and skills. So I clicked on "apply", which took me to a window requesting my resume.

Uh-oh. Updating my resume had been on my to-do list...or I should say, it's been ignored on my to-do list. It immediately moved up in priority.

I spent the next thirty minutes...hour...who knows how long, tidying it up to match the job, then finished applying.

Time to work out. No, it was late. I would just pay bills and get in bed early so I could wake up early enough to work out.

Oh, but first, I needed to print out one of my critique group member's submission for the next meeting in case I got called to substitute teach in the morning. I like to do my critiques during my long break periods. Too cheap to use new paper, I decided to clean out my file cabinet and find some paper I could recycle.

So I headed into the bedroom where the file cabinet is and noticed the basket of towels on the bed waiting to be folded. I remembered I had clothes in the washer and dryer, so I turned on "Dancing with the Stars" for ten minutes while I folded, then moved the loads around downstairs.

But instead of folding the next basket of clothes I pulled from the dryer (just Tom's work clothes - wrinkling wouldn't hurt them) I thought I better get back to paying bills.

Back on the computer, a quick glance at Facebook reminded me I wanted to submit one of my blog posts to BlogHer's Voices of the Year.

I'm getting very audacious in my old age! Perhaps I've read this enough times to believe it:

"Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers, why not gather your own bouquet?"

- from P.S. I Love You on my bathroom wall

 

But which post should I submit? I started scrolling through my posts until I came to The Artist. That would do. I filled in the nomination page then shared my audaciousness on the GenerationFabulous Facebook page, which is full of supportive women, but I've been neglectful of my own support for them lately, so I spent some time reading over a few posts and voting for their submissions as well. 

Finally! Time to pay those bills. Except, gosh, couldn't this whole crazy scenario make a great blog post? Especially if I mention the Painted Bunting I spotted out the bathroom window while I was flossing my teeth, in between eating dinner and sitting down to pay bills the first time? The one I captured in my camera when I left mid-floss to sneak out the back door and creep up on via the side porch?

And that's why I never seem to get anything done. I blame it all on LinkedIn. Now excuse me, but I really need to finish flossing, pay those bills and get in bed.

Oh, but first...

 

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...

 

 

Five Things on Friday

1. Last night I attended a funeral for the mother of one of my long-time, closest friends. Hers was one of the houses where we all congregrated, from middle school on up (I had my first kiss on the sidewalk in front of that house)... and now my friend opens up her home to all of us for get-togethers as well.

My - oh, I'll go ahead and use the word - 'old' classmates and I filled several rows, and even my mother tagged along with me. One of the guys got up and spoke about his memories - our memories - but I have to admit, when he said the words "forty years ago" and "back in the day", I cringed at the truth of it. We are old! Argh.

But we're also forever young, thanks to those memories. Rest in peace and thank you for putting up with us, Mrs. Stanley, and thanks for speaking for all of us, Randy.

2. I saw a news report about cicadas that said they only appear every 17 years. Well, if that's true, I want to know what the heck we have around here every single summer that does a perfect impersonation of a cicada!

3. Just when I decided I needed to give something up for lack of time, whether my blog or my book or photography, I had a request to purchase some photos, an idea for a{nother} children's book that wouldn't leave me alone, I passed to the next level on a paid online writing gig, and I got a lot of attention on my blog.

Murphy's Law, but in a good way for a change.

But I'm still trying to figure out how to do it all...

4. My girlfriends pitched in and gave me a gift card for my birthday for me to buy a pair of cowgirl boots to wear to the rehearsal dinner for my son's wedding.

(It's a Texas thing. I had a great pair of boots...but then had three kids. Now TG has a great pair of boots, and I have my mother's which are about a half size too small.)

Anyway, I'm in a quandary. I'm tempted to squeeze my foot into my mother's boots that night, and use the gift card to {mostly} pay for an iPad or Kindle or something like that. Several of my friends have written e-books, and I have them on my computer, but I have limited time at home in front of my computer. I can't even keep up with my book writing or photo editing, so their books are still unread, along with tons of blog posts and articles, because I can't read them on my iPhone.

I'm thinking if I got an iPad, I could tuck it in my purse and stay caught up with my friends' writings. Sure, I'd look cute in a pair of Heritage Westerns, with jeans tucked in or a cute summery dress, and two-stepping in wedges is kind of a challenge, but...

See the fix I'm in? 

If any of you has an iPad or a Kindle or other similar device, please share your input and help me with this decision before it drives me crazy!

5. I'm happy to report that I've had a couple of mouse-turd-free days since retrieving the last one from the back seat and tossing it into the woods. Fingers crossed they've decided my car isn't the luxury hotel they were hoping for!

P.S. The onion flowers are back!

(Yes, that's technically 6 things. But I had to share these - such simple elegance in our little bit of woods.)

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Friday Fragments

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

 

 

Birthdays, Austin Adventures, and other Sweet!s

Once you reach a certain age, numbers become surreal. They change (faster and faster and faster) but you feel the same.

Wasn't it only yesterday I was cage dancing in honor of my 50th birthday? 

Way back in my thirties and forties, I set some goals for myself. By my 50th birthday, I planned to have graduated with at least a bachelor's degree and have a book published. There was also some vague notion that I would be able to play something that resembled music on my drums.

As that birthday approached, I cut myself some slack and extended the deadline to my 55th birthday. Surely that would be enough time to accomplish at least one of those goals.

Well, here I am at 54, and I know if the good Lord lets me reach my 55th birthday, odds are it's going to be without a degree or a published book, and my drumming will most likely continue to be a lot of loud noise that makes me happy...and everyone else want to plug their ears.

At first I thought about extending the deadline for those goals to 60. Instead, I'm tossing deadlines aside. Period. There are still dreams I'd like to see come true, but life is hard enough without the extra pressure we put on ourselves.

So more than ever, my goal for this year is just to take life as it comes, day by day, and do the best I can.

If I never get any closer to realizing those dreams than where I'm standing today, I'm okay with that. It's a good place, no, it's a great place to be.

I am truly blessed.

Yesterday my kids joined me as tour guides for a day of Austin Adventures. Despite living in the area for almost 20 years, there are so many "Austin" things I've never experienced.

We only made a dent in the list, but it was a great day, starting with brunch at Cherrywood Coffeehouse with my oldest, Tommy, and Andrew, a longtime friend of Tommy's from high school and college days...plus Andrew's beautiful wife and two precious kids. 

I believe birthdays are for experiencing 'firsts', so I ordered a smoked crayfish omelette...my first time to eat crayfish. And it was yummy!

From there we picked up my other two kids and headed for the eclectic shops lining South Congress. Costumes, art, antiques, and lots of interesting junk.  

There were also street musicians and food trailers! Oh, so many food trailers!

Still full from brunch, I settled on a 24 Carrot cupcake from the Hey Cupcake! trailer and shared it with the kids.

(Great timing! My future daughter-in-law was across the street at Home Slice with her best friend, on a break from wedding errands, so I even got to see her, which was like getting more cream cheese icing on my cupcake!)

From there we went to the highest spot in Austin - Mount Bonnell. By the time you drive there, it's only a few flights of stone steps to the top, where you get a gorgeous view of Lake Austin in one direction and the Austin skyline in the other. 

 

It's not exactly mountain-climbing. But my kids zoomed ahead of me and I was out of breath by the time I joined them at the top.

I have an old, old, old postcard that features a photograph of the state capital from Mount Bonnell and wanted to reproduce it. So you can imagine how disappointed I was that someone had the gall to build something mostly blocking the capital from view. Sigh.

You can barely see the tip of the capital peeking up, but the University of Texas Tower is standing proud and unobstructed at least, there on the left.

 

When I saw that I was testing the patience of my kids with all of the photos of us that I asked strangers to take and the amazing views, we headed to our last stop: Rainey Street, a historic dictrict recently converted to a strip of bars and restaurants.

I was ready for something to eat and drink, but I confess the biggest draw for me to Rainey Street was Geraldine, a guinea fowl who lives in the area. She's been in the news, trying to warn people of her existence so she doesn't get run over. She even has her own Facebook page.

So you can imagine my excitement when, as soon as we pulled into a parking space, Daniel said "Hey, there's a guinea fowl pecking at the tires."

In a flash I was scrambling out of the car, telling her how pretty she was and snapping photos. Yes, I was star struck. Oh, if we had only known about her back when Frankie was alive. They would have made a beautiful couple!

 

I caught up to my kids and we headed into Craft Pride, where there's a mind-boggling selection of craft beers. My taste for beer is slowly recovering from the initial menopausal shock from a few years ago. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, but it was fun sitting on the patio behind the bar, sipping on a beer and talking to my kids.

(That just seems so weird.)

After that, we wandered down the street, trying to decide where to eat. We picked the Javelina Bar, because Tommy had been there before. The food was great! (So were the Bloody Mary's. Hey, it was my birthday, and I had a designated driver!)

I have to thank my wonderful kids again for helping me celebrate my birthday. I've always had lots of fun with them, whether it was visiting the playground at McDonald's or the Natural Science Museum in Houston or the zoo, and it's still awesome to spend so much time with them.

If I never accomplish a single thing in my life, it's okay with me, because I played a part in bringing those three into this world. And that's something special. In a good way. 

And then, would you believe the fun  and celebrations continued today?  I met some of my local Deer Park Divas at Jack Allen's Kitchen for an amazing brunch. (I swear I've gained 10 pounds this weekend!)

Gwen made a Red Velvet Cake and Darla solicited contributions for a gift card for me to buy some cowboy - er, cowgirl - boots. I've been trying and trying to win some through contests on Facebook, with no success. I think they felt sorry for me.

My friends are so sneaky and amazing and I love them all.

As I said, I am blessed. Amen.

And now for the official "Sweet!" list from the past week...

 

Monday: listening to the writings of 4th graders; the silky soft fur of a bunny rabbit; taking a break on a small terrace beside a little pond with your husband, listening to the birds sing above you and the trickle of a small waterfall

Tuesday: finishing a long walk with your puppies just before the rain begins; enjoying the sight, sound, and smell of a spring shower from the shelter of your porch; fewer mice turds in your car, indicating the party might be moving somewhere else; a day of much-needed heavy rain

Wednesday: recovering from your fright long enough to remove the little mouse hiding in your glove box and place it in the woods; gumbo with grilled shrimp and smoked duck for lunch on a rainy day; two days in a row of customers with British-y accents; no damage from the high winds that kept you awake the night before

Thursday: no more mouse poop in your car!; gathering with friends for a movie and dinner, especially when it's in honor of your birthday; movies starring Billy Crystal and Bette Midler

 

Friday: picking up your new $1 iPhone from the post office; amazing magic tricks performed by a high school student; {bittersweet} getting off work early enough to attend a friend's funeral

Saturday: your 54th birthday; brunch with your son and his friend; seeing your son's childhood friends all grown up, with kids of their own; exploring Austin with your kids as tour guides; the view of Austin from Mount Bonnell; Hey Cupcake; meeting Geraldine the Rainey Street Guinea Fowl

Sunday: pancakes after Mass; continuing your birthday celebration with sweet friends, a delicious brunch buffet, Bloody Mary's, and Red Velvet Cake; friends who pool funds together to get you something you couldn't afford to get yourself; Polish pottery; helping a friend celebrate her book release (Susie Kralovansky's "There Was a Tall Texan Who Swallowed A Flea"); an afternoon walk in warm sunshine with your puppies

 

 

I hope you all had a week full of sweet! moments! If you don't think you did, pay more attention! I swear, they're there!

 

 

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Five Things on Friday

 

1. "I'm off my game. I discovered a little mouse in my glove compartment this morning and didn't even think of taking its picture." That was my Facebook status on Wednesday.

Remember when I told you I discovered mouse turds all over my car Easter morning? Well, it became a morning ritual for me to clean up the mouse turds with duct tape every day after that, until Wednesday, when I pulled the hand sanitizer out of my glove box...and then noticed the tiny little mouse sitting in there. 

I'll tell you our whole Mouse Saga later (I've been holding out on you) but suffice it to say, for now, that (after screaming and screaming and screaming) I moved the (terrified) little mouse to the woods by the tail and haven't had any mouse turds in my car since then. Whew.

I did regret not taking its picture.

2. I upgraded my iphone to a 4. It's charging right now. I can't wait to play with the camera. I heard the 4S was better, but I figured, for $1 versus $50, I could make do with the 4.

3. I have eaten two Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs every day since Easter. I love those things. I barely even feel guilty about it.

4. After several days of crazy, stormy weather, including hail and tornado warnings, and more rain than we've gotten in the past 6 months, the sun finally came out today... and I felt like something heavy was lifted off of my chest.

I wish my mood wasn't so dependent on sunshine. I'd never make it in the northeast. 

5. Tomorrow is my 54th birthday!

 

Prairie Verbena scattered through a field like Easter eggs...much nicer than mouse turds scattered all over my car! 

 

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A Note From Your Waiter: Do Not Call me Toots

 

Do not call me Toots.

My name is Barbara. If you forget it and need my attention, you can call me "ma'am", or say "excuse me" or "pardon me".

But Toots? Per Wikipedia, Toots is a slang term for "babe" or "sweetie" or "honey," or, more-negatively, "tart" or "prostitute."  

Who, or what, do you think I am - or perhaps I should ask, who do you think you are - that you can be so disrespectful to a stranger?

I am a part-time waiter right now, because I need the extra money to help pay for my kids' college tuitions so I can afford my own...to support my writing and photography passions...to get me up and away from the computer I'm glued to the rest of the time, to be active and talk to people, which I love.

But waiting tables in a winery restaurant isn't my dream job, and I'm looking for something else, but what if it was? What if this was what I wanted to do the rest of my life? Serving people, helping them relax and enjoy themselves...there are worse jobs out there, far less enjoyable and rewarding. And if I make it look easy...well, believe me, it takes a set of skills that a lot of people do not have.

Oh, and if you arrive before the restaurant opens, please be patient. It will be a few minutes before your order can be taken because there are just some things that I need to take care of first...

 

The three women arrived early, before the restaurant opened for business. They were already seated at a table with water and menus, courtesy of our office manager who works a normal 9 to 5 job, when I walked in and jumped right to work, bringing up the computer so I could enter orders, pulling the reds out of the chiller so they will be room temperature, tucking an order pad and pen into my apron. They were younger than me. Early to mid-thirties, I guessed.

I was behind the counter preparing the register when one waved a menu at me and said "We're ready, Toots."

Toots? my ears repeated, asking themselves if they heard what they thought they heard. 

"Okay, just a second," I somehow managed to say with a smile and not one ounce of saccharin sweetness. 

I made sure to state my name, loud and clear, when I took their order. I treated them with respect, and they left large donations to the World of Children Fund, the nonprofit group we support in lieu of tips. And they didn't call me Toots again.

 

But speaking of children...

 

I'm all for taking your children out to eat with you. I know how confining life with small ones can be. Besides, what better way to teach them how to behave in a restaurant? 

But if your children are still too young to learn, get a babysitter. Stay home. Or at the very least, accept your waiter's offer of a high chair so your little one doesn't wander around bothering other guests and touching breakable glassware and expensive vases...

This young couple had two precious little girls, one about 7 months old, the other about 2 years old. Despite several offers, they refused a high chair for the 2-year-old, instead allowing her to stand in the chairs or wander about the restaurant, unconcerned about the other patrons or the fragile wine glasses or silverware she was touching...until I uttered a warning out of fear she would hurt herself, which scared the little girl into staying close to her parents.

For awhile.

Still, they were a cute couple and I didn't have many other customers. There were no broken glasses, no falls from the chair, no complaints. And after they left with lots of tips from me about places to visit in Austin, and I was sweeping up all of the cracker and bread crumbs littering the floor under and around their table, I remembered another floor covered in crackers...

One evening when our oldest was in the high chair and saltine cracker stage, Tom and I had a serious craving for seafood, so we took a drive out to our favorite restaurant. By the time we left, a three foot radius around our son's high chair was covered in cracker crumbs.

I was mortified, but wasn't sure what to do, other than leave a large tip and not return until our kids were old enough to know that saltines were not edible playthings.

Ah, paybacks.

Which I guess means they'll get theirs some day, too, both the young couple and the woman who called me Toots. Just another circle of Life.

And that makes me smile, because I'm human, after all.

(Hey, wait a minute! I never called a waiter Toots. Just proof that Life is also unfair and has a warped sense of humor, I suppose.)

Coach Christine, Queen of the Cosmos

We could hear her screaming from the other side of the soccer field, giving directions, shouting encouragement, and even growling disapproval at bad calls, voicing our own outrage so effectively we didn't have to. 

She was the epitome of a Mama Bear, fierce, loving, and protective of all of the girls on the Cosmos, TG's soccer team, equally. We were blessed to spend almost every weekend with her during soccer season for five years of our lives.

I knew her cancer wasn't responding to treatments. There was an open house a couple of weekends ago for friends to come and see her, but it was a long, tiring day at the winery and I decided I was too pooped and yucky to go that evening. 

Instead, I decided I would grab TG and we would pay Christine a quick visit one evening the next week. I knew she'd want to see TG more than me, anyway. But that week sped by, and the next, without "finding the time"...and now it's too late to see her again in person, give her a last hug, and tell her thank you in person.

Because Christine passed away on Monday.

My good intentions lie dried out, crumbled in a pile of ashes before me, so learn from my mistake and grab yours into a bouquet while they're fresh.  Carry them to the person you need to see again... the person you need to hug or kiss or say forgive me or thank you or whatever...because time doesn't bend to our convenience. It's on its own schedule and doesn't give a damn for ours.

Coach Christine was fierce, passionate, and all heart. I doubt her good intentions ever wilted even the teensiest bit.

I'm grateful she was a part of our lives, even though it was for a short time, and regretful that I didn't get to give her one last hug and thank you in person. She was an inspiration to me (and I'm sure to TG) and I'm better for knowing her.

 

Rest in peace, Coach...although I know you're really still there on the sidelines, pacing up and down, keeping an eye on those you love, giving support, encouragement, and protection. Your voice may have been silenced, but never your heart.

Alleluja!

"Because Christ rose from the dead, we know that sin and death and Satan have been decisively defeated."

~ Billy Graham

It rained today. Normally, that's not what you want on Easter Sunday, but when you're in the middle of a drought like we are, rain is an Easter blessing. 

And then the sun came out this afternoon. Perfect!

I threw 'healthy' away this morning and fixed bacon and eggs for breakfast for my two boys and myself (blueberry muffins for Tom)...then I indulged in Reese's peanut butter eggs...and ate a delicious dinner which included ham AND lamb, potatoes au gratin, and cheesecake. 

But being Easter, it was a day of celebration, not a day to worry about calories or arteries or, um, trying to fit into the clingy dress you bought for your son's wedding less than a month away. Hmmm.

Anyway...unfortunately, sometime during the night a bunch of field mice had a celebration of their own inside my car, leaving little mice turds everywhere! We have no idea how they got in...but thank goodness they got out again. I had to spend quite a bit of time today vacuuming and wiping down every surface (ugh!) and I'm just hoping they're through celebrating... at least in my car!

Despite the rain and the mouse turds, it was a gloriously sweet! Sunday. I hope it was for you, too.

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

 

Monday: a friend who knows how to (possibly) recover your photos from your re-formatted camera card; bluebonnets popping up everywhere despite the dry winter

Tuesday: the full moon waiting up for you; margherita pizza; especially when you're really, really, really hungry; a package containing the new shoes you ordered waiting on your doorstep 

Wednesday: a long walk with your puppies; a chorus of cardinals; writing; playing your drums; Macy's putting Keurig coffee makers on sale when your old pot is dying 

Thursday: (almost) catching up on email; regaining your lost NEF photo files, thanks to your friend

Friday: decorating your house for Easter while listening to Third Day; Stations of the Cross outdoors; sharing funny videos with your son

Saturday: a walk with your puppies and grandpuppy before work; your sons helping you prepare dinner; playing ping-pong, listening to music on the back porch watching the sunset, then enjoying a movie with your sons after work

Sunday: Easter; making breakfast for your baby boys; a church overflowing with people singing Alleluja; sharing Easter dinner with friends; Easter egg hunts; wishing your baby girl Happy Easter, even if it's from a distance

A new month starts tomorrow, can you believe it? I hope it's a good one for you, full of sweet! moments!

 "Jesus Christ is risen today...alleluja!

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!

Aging with grace. What does that mean, anyway?

I stepped into the classroom of second graders and made my way to the teacher's desk. "Are you someone's grandmother?" one little munchkin asked. 

"No, I'm the substitute teacher," I said with forced smile, trying to recover from such a fierce Reality Check that early in the morning, and making myself promise not to hold a grudge against that little...um, cutie pie.

I turn 54 in less than two weeks...indeed, quite old enough to be someone's grandmother. If you're 55 or older, you're probably calling me a baby. But if you're 40 or younger, I'm sure 54 sounds as old to you as it looked to that second-grader. I remember when it sounded old to me, too.

But I don't feel old. In so many ways I feel the same as I did at 5 and 10 and 18, and in those moments when I said "I do" and held each of my babies for the very first time.

When I was facing 50, time took on new meaning. The hour glass was more empty than full, and not only had I wasted a lot of it, but I could see what was left slipping away, seemingly faster and faster.

It made me think about aging. What it meant to me. How I wanted it to look on me.

I decided I wanted to be able to enjoy whatever time I had left. I knew the road ahead was full of physical potholes, so I focused on getting healthy, from the inside out. I felt guilty for taking my body for granted for so many years and vowed to treat it right from then on. 

I became my own best friend, accepting the good and bad, my weaknesses and strengths, likes and dislikes. I developed high expectations for myself, but also cut myself some slack. I focused on finding balance, although it's still a struggle. Work. Play. Time alone. Time with friends and family. Giving. Taking.

I refused to give into the stereotypes, the standard expectations of what it means to be an older woman, of what's considered "proper". I decided to shake things up in my life, to stretch and appreciate all aspects of myself, to discover and expand the talents God gave me.

In the process I discovered a sense of freedom and excitement and joy that I'd never known. 

So as I head into another year, I'll just continue being me, who wears jeans, loves to dance, and wants to keep learning till the day she dies. 

Because aging with grace just means living with grace, whether you're celebrating your first birthday or your 100th.

I wish I'd started sooner.

This is my contribution to GenerationFabulous's latest blog hop on what aging gracefully means to us. Go HERE to see the other contributions.

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One Night in a Parking Lot...

Scintilla Project Day 14:  We exert control over ourselves and others in many ways. Talk about a time when you lost that control. This can go beyond the obvious emotional control into things like willpower, tidiness, self-discipline, physical prowess - any time that you felt your autonomy slipping away.

 

I sat on the hood of my car in the empty strip center parking lot, moping. Hoping my boyfriend would regret our fight and follow me out of the disco across the street.

A gangly teenage boy emerged from the shadows at the end of the strip center, headed my direction. I didn't feel a tingle down my neck. No sense of danger, whatsoever. I mean, he looked harmless. Pretty skinny. And deep in my heart I believed if I was nice to someone, they would be nice back.

I think he asked for a cigarette. Or maybe directions to somewhere. It doesn't really matter; I didn't have whatever he asked for, and time - or perhaps shock - has erased a lot of the details.

What I do remember is him telling me to give him the keys to my car, and me telling him no, and gripping them vise-like in my hand and jumping down, and wondering how he got behind me with one arm around my neck and the other trying to pry the keys out of my hand, and fighting him, and praying he couldn't peel my fingers off of them, and realizing he was a lot stronger than I would have thought with those skinny arms of his, and being surprised I couldn't break the hold he had on me, and

screaming, screaming, screaming...

And then he let go. I watched him run into a field beside the parking lot that bordered a neighborhood and fade into the darkness. Whether it was my screaming or my guardian angel or something else that made him run, I'll never know.

I had the club doorman find my boyfriend. Concern replaced the irritation on his face when he heard what happened. He made a cursory search of the field, then told me to go home.

That night I discovered there were limits to the power of 'nice', limits to my physical strength, limits to my boyfriend's concern for me. There were shadows in the kodachrome world of my childhood.

But I also discovered there was no limit to the strength inside me that refused to give in or give up or let go, whether it's my life on the line, as I'm sure it was that night, or my family, my future, my dreams...

Hard Times Require Furious Dancing

(photo by Deborah Barrett)

I love dancing.

Nevermind the therapeutic benefits, both mental and physical. When I hear certain beats and rhythms, I really can't sit still. If nothing else, my toe will be dancing.

What I love almost as much as dancing is getting others out on the dance floor with me, getting them to forget about what other people think and just get lost in the music and the movement. The smiles on their faces make my heart soar.

But dancing is therapeutic, no doubt about it. Along with writing, photography, spending time with friends, and pounding on my drums, it's one of my favorites. (Sometimes I wonder why I need so much therapy...)

Alas, between working weekends and traveling to see my parents'so much, my dancing nights have dwindled over the past year. Consequently, my stress levels have risen. So this past weekend, I talked a bunch of friends into joining me on the dance floor.

It was a blast!

That was sweet!, but having a friend think of me when she saw a copy of "Hard Times Require Furious Dancing" by Alice Walker in a shop, and take the time to send me the photo of it...well, that was just as sweet! (Thank you again, Debbie!)

Here are a few other sweet! moments from the past week...

 

Monday: bird-watching and bird-listening; managing to put off a trip to the grocery store; taking care of dusty but important things on your to-do list; a day at home with your husband, even if you're busy with your own projects

Tuesday: waking early enough to write and exercise before work; another mallard sighting; redbud trees blooming longer than usual; meeting other photographers; helping a friend celebrate her birthday

Wednesday: waking early enough two days in a row to write and exercise before work; sleeping through a hailstorm when you're exhausted; finishing a book that's driving you crazy wanting to know how it ends

Thursday: time to weed through your untended, overgrown email inbox; your husband caring enough about a wounded snake to put it in a terrarium so it can die in peace; walking the streets of Venice again, at least in your memory and words and photos

Friday: traffic working with you on an early morning road trip; splashes of bluebonnets lining a highway; time to chat with your dad, even if it's in a hospital waiting room; your mom breezing through her nuclear stress test with no problems; getting together with friends and spending hours on a dance floor; good bands

Saturday: sleeping in; biscuits and bacon for breakfast, thanks to your dad; a yard decorated with pink and purple flowers; hanging out with your parents all day; a hug from, and chance to visit with, your sister; a former co-worker contacting you for a potential new job

Sunday: sleeping in, Day 2; a walk around your old neighborhood on a brisk sunshine-filled day; new houses going up in an old neighborhood; a field of tiny yellow flowers; stopping along a highway to capture bluebonnets and Indian paintbrushes with your camera; wiggly puppies welcoming you home

Monday: getting to work in a library with a view of Texas hills and blue skies

 

I hope all of you had a week filled with therapeutic, sweet! moments, too! 

“the world has changed: it did not change without your prayers without your faith without your determination to believe in liberation and kindness; without your dancing through the years that had no beat.”

~ Alice Walker, "Hard Times Require Furious Dancing: New Poems"

Labor(er)s of Love

I had fifteen minutes before my meeting started. A guest was going to be telling us about a project he had initiated. I wanted to get a look at it beforehand, so I arrived early - for once - and headed to the woods behind the church with my camera.

...At least, there used to be woods there, so thick with Juniper trees and underbrush you couldn't step foot beyond the children's playscape. But that evening last week I found a cedar-chip path lined with rocks winding through enough trees to provide shade and cast shadows as the sun drops.

 

 

This man had envisioned an outdoor Stations of the Cross and initially wanted to do all the work himself. When he found himself overwhelmed, other parishioners stepped forward to help with the clearing of trees and create the little creek to divert rainwater. 

Children in the parish had helped line the paths with rocks.

 

 

Others helped build this log fence.

 

 

And another man is stripping cedar logs and building crosses for each station. 

 

It's not finished yet, but already it's such a peaceful, reflective place to walk. What a gift this man has given to our parish and community!

But that's not all...

Along with his wife, he is starting a Family Ministry for our church, taking a survey to see what the needs are and finding speakers to come once a quarter on the different topics, such as divorce, loss of a child or spouse, problems with teenagers...leaving enough time in between speakers for the groups to continue to meet on their own and develop a support system. 

At our last meeting another couple spoke about their ministry...serving gourmet breakfast treats in between Masses. I'm talking Quiche Lorraine, folks, not glazed donuts or stale coffee cake! Our small activity center now overflows with people enjoying the treats and getting to know one another better. They call it "The Garden of Eatin'". Cute, huh?

I snapped this photo with my phone one Sunday. I think it explains why they go to all of this trouble every week...

 

 

Another woman in our parish, a member of my committee, heard about a Prayer Shawl ministry, so she recruited a bunch of knitters and in just a few weeks they already have over twenty shawls to pass out to those who are sick, grieving, or lonely. A warm hug and prayer they can hold. So thoughtful!

There was a period in my life when I had a meeting of some kind almost every night. Take three kids, multiply by at least three organizations/activities they're involved in from the time they start school until they graduate from high school, add several small town community and church organizations and board meetings, and you get the picture. I was addicted to volunteering. 

As my kids grew and flew the nest, I left behind one volunteer position after another until now all I have is this one committee where I get to hear about these people and their ministries.

They inspire me to think bigger and be more giving. I feel so blessed just to know them. 

Even though I realize my plate is too full right now trying to pay for all those years I only volunteered my time to consider biting off a large project, I'm keeping my heart open for other ways I can give back, even if it's in little bits and pieces. 

Unselfish and noble actions are the most radiant pages in the biography of souls. 

~David Thomas

What about you? Do you volunteer your time and talents anywhere in particular? 

Five Things on Friday...oops...I mean, Saturday.

 

 

Prologue:  I meant to post this yesterday but never had a chance. I was on the road at sunrise, spent several hours in the Houston Medical Center while Mama had a (scheduled) nuclear stress test, then met a group of high school friends for a night of catching up, mostly on a dance floor. (You know you're getting old when your knees, feet, and back are sore and stiff after a night of dancing! Totally worth it, though. I think it just means I need to dance more often.)

(P.S. Will those of you who pray say a few for me? I can't divulge why, but God knows. Thank you!)

(P.S.S. Linking with A Rural Journal and Friday Fragments)

1. Hallelujah! I finished The Hunger Games trilogy. Now I can get back to my regular programming.

2. A glance at my closet will reveal a dozen pairs of jeans, three pairs of black dress pants, a handful of dresses, and a whole rack of screen print tees commemorating soccer tournaments, high school one-act plays, company parties, concerts, my kids' colleges, and my fire-fighting training that I rarely wear but can't part with.

Am I the only one that saves all of those shirts?

3. If you use Google Reader, then you probably know it's going away in July. My photographer/blogger friend Lisa Gordon tipped me off about Feedly to replace it. I tried it and love it! It synced perfectly with Google Reader - so easy! And now I can organize the blogs and sites I follow much easier. Thank you, Lisa!

4. We didn't get any snow or ice this past winter, but we did get a lot of drab browns and grays, so I'm relishing the signs of spring all around us. 

I shared more photos of spring in the Hollow on my photography blog HERE.

5. I don't watch much television and can barely tolerate reality shows, but I will do almost anything to spend time with my kids. And that's how I came to watch Toddlers & Tiaras last week, to spend time with TG. It was fun - we laughed a lot and she put up with my running commentary about how it represented everything wrong with the world. 

Today (maybe yesterday...my days are blurring together) she sent me this video. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

 

Happily Lost in Venice

The Scintilla Project Day 9: Talk about where you were going the day you got lost. Were you alone? Did you ever get to where you meant to go? 

 

Huge cathedrals and museums, ancient statues, priceless art and architecture...it was all beginning to blur by the time we entered Piazza San Marco in Venice that hot July day in 1976. I mean, once you've seen one soaring, gothic, thousand-year-old historic tower, you've seen them all.

At least that's the way it feels when you're seventeen, on a grueling, tight-budgeted, whirlwind, month-long tour of five European countries. And it's over 90 degrees. And no one has heard of air-conditioning. Or ice. 

So as the rest of our group moved into the entrance of St. Mark's Basilica, the three of us slowed down, dropped to the back of the herd, then dashed into a crowd moving away from the Basilica, deeper into the square. Our quest was simple: to find a place to sit down and relax for just a little while. To catch our breath and rest our feet. And being teenage girls, to eat.

We found much more than that when we wandered into a quaint restaurant tucked into the bottom of an old hotel just off the square. Not only did the Cokes we ordered appear with a slice of lime (delicious!), but there were actual ice cubes clinking around in the glasses! The only ice cubes we saw during that entire month of a record-breaking European heat-wave.

Thus refreshed, we spent the next few hours wandering through the narrow streets, dipping into one shop after another, until we knew it was time for our group's tour to end. It wasn't hard to find our way back. We just approached strangers and asked "Piazza San Marco?", pointing to our map, and they helped us along our way.

Being lost was never so lovely.

Oh, if only I'd had a digital camera back then. These are the only three photos I have from Venice.

That's Laura, Donna, and me in the one above, standing in Piazza San Marco, perhaps plotting our escape.

Or in the middle of it!

 

This is the amazing mechanical clock tower facing Piazza San Marco, dating from the 1400's.

Here I am fresh from a swim in the Adriatic Sea, standing on a bridge crossing over one of the Venetian canals. 

Trust me, it's there even though you can't see it because of all the bodies in the way. 

 It's the closest I've come to a riding in a gondola.

One day...

 

 

 

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

 

My coffee pot is wounded. I discovered a pool of black coffee seeping out from under it this week and panicked, thinking it was actually dead. I do have some of those individual coffee bags, but they just aren't the same as fresh brewed coffee.

But I tightened some tiny screws on a flange, and made a pot, keeping an eye on it. No obvious leaks. Just seepage. So if I immediately put the whole pot in a carafe, I'm okay. For now.

Then...I missed a chance to go dancing Friday night because I didn't pay attention to my calendar. And my middle son came home this weekend, but I didn't get to spend much time with him because I had to work. 

Also, I've missed two critique group meetings now because even though I've gotten up early and worked on my book a few times, I'm tearing it apart at the seams, then putting it back together, not really moving it forward. I have nothing to submit to the group for critique. Plus I haven't had time to critique anyone else's work because I've been working so much...

...which, of course, is a blessing. 

Here are a few other sweet! moments I noticed this past week, despite the bumps in the road...

Monday: wintery mornings that turn into spring days; brunch with a friend from your old neighborhood; bringing your youngest home for a few days over spring break; a check waiting in the mailbox

Tuesday: managing to wake up well before the sun to work on your book; making it through a crazy busy on-your-feet-running-for-hours kind of day at work without making any customers angry; collapsing in front of the television after work with your baby girl, even if it's to watch three episodes of Toddlers & Tiaras

Wednesday: spotting a pair of Mallard ducks on your morning walk; a vineyard in early spring; a crescent moon smiling at you on a night drive home

Thursday: sleeping in; a slow, lazy day; a text from your daughter letting your old puppy take the lead on a morning walk; reflective walks

Friday: making friends with other women in the shoe department when you shop for shoes for your son's wedding; making a little progress on your to-do list; the song of mourning doves

Saturday: your son coming to visit and making you a deluxe chicken and veggie quesadilla for lunch; working with a great team; chocolate torte; the night wind whipping down your porch and playing with your hair

Sunday: kneeling between your husband and son at Mass; remembering to wear your green shamrock beads to work on St. Patrick's Day; a grumpy customer becoming a happy customer; celebrating St. Patrick's Day with good conversation, corned beef, cabbage, potatoes, carrots, Irish soda bread, and Irish beer, thanks to good friends; your baby girl making it home safe and sound from the coast

 

In honor of St. Patrick's Day, here's a little Irish blessing for you...

May God give you...

For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
A faithful friend to share,
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer.

 

(my favorite kind of rainbow!)

On Breathing

 

I'm playing catch up.

I knew when I signed up for the Scintilla Project, a two-week writing commitment, that it would be a challenge to write something every day.

I accept that there are going to be some days I just won't have time to write, especially since I usually have to roll a prompt around in my brain for a bit before I decide how to answer it.

I'm going to try my best to respond to each one, even if it means posting two on one day. But I'm going to cut myself some slack and not stress about it if I don't.

It's more important to breathe...

 

Scintilla Project Day 4:

Being trapped in a confined environment can turn an ordinary experience into a powder keg. Write about a thing that happened to you while you were using transportation; anything from your first school bus ride, to a train or plane, to being in the backseat of the car on a family road trip.

We tossed our bags into the cargo space of the charter bus idling in the church parking lot, said our goodbyes to our parents, and boarded the charter bus, excited about our week-long journey to St. Louis. Thirty or forty of us, barely teenagers, members of the youth choir, setting out on a summer adventure...with a few adult chaperones, of course.

I was excited about traveling through the midwest, the heart of the United States. I couldn't wait to see Dorothy's Kansas, Tom Sawyer's Mississippi River, and that huge Gateway Arch. 

But before we even got out of Texas, my pubescent hormones and tree pollen teamed up to spoil my trip. It started as a tightness in my chest that climbed higher, squeezing my air passages until all I focused on during that long drive through the night to Joplin was breathing.

I sat on the arm rest of a chair, gripping the rail above my head, pulling as I struggled to breathe in, drifting into an uneasy sleep as I exhaled. I remember a dream-like stop at a random emergency room. Maybe two. Instead of sharing a motel room with my friends, I bunked with Mrs. Eaton, the pianist, so she could keep an eye on me.

No giggling, no gossip, no flipping through television stations for me, just sitting on a toilet in a steamy bathroom so I could continue breathing. 

The only thing I toured in St. Louis was the mall across the street from our hotel, and the airport, where I at least experienced the excitement of my first airplane ride, all alone and feeling very grown-up, back to Houston, where my mother drove me straight to my allergist at the very moment my friends were probably gazing out of the Mississippi River from the top of the Arch.

 

And that story leads directly in to my next...

 

Scintilla Project Day 3:

Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. Write about a time you taught someone a lesson you didn't want to teach.

 

The wheezing. The coughing. The chest retractions. I knew the sounds and symptoms. Antihistamines, albuterol, corticosteriods, and other asthma and allergy medications overflowed a large basket on the kitchen counter. Beside it three nebulizer masks air dried, waiting for the next round. Two nebulizers were in position on end tables, taking the place of whatever decorative knick-knacks I'd once had there, before I had three kids with asthma.

The boys were easy. I'd slip on their masks and flip the switches on the nebulizers. They'd nestle on the couch with a picture book or a toy, or ask me to turn up the volume on the television so they could hear it over the hum of the motors, and then they'd do their best to see through the mist. At three and five, they were antsy about having to stay still so long, but they understood it was necessary.

TG was another story. She developed asthma before she was a year old. The nebulizer mask was confining, uncomfortable, and very scary to her at first. She didn't understand that it would save her life, but I did, so when it was time for her treatment, I figured out a way to secure her on my lap with one arm and a leg wrapped across her little body to keep her from flailing loose, while the other hand held the mask securely in place so the medicine could reach her lungs. I ignored her tears. I dodged her kicks and attempts to bite me, instead tightening my hold on her. Tough love because I loved her so much.

Over time, she quit fighting me during her treatments, realizing they actually helped. Over more time, they all got so much better they no longer needed inhalers very often, much less nebulizer treatments. 

And then they became teenagers, needing that tough love for entirely different reasons. But that's another story.

 

Tree pollen, you don't scare us anymore!

 

 

 

Five Things on a Friday Night (when I should have been dancing)

 

 

1. My crape myrtles are budding! I'm really surprised because we haven't had much rain and the poor things haven't bloomed in two or three years now. I wasn't even sure they were still alive. I've got my fingers crossed they've somehow established themselves enough to give me some summer color later on.

2. I had a chance to go dancing with friends tonight. Instead, here I am editing photos and working on a blog post. Not that I don't love blogging, but...well, I love, love, love dancing!

So why am I blogging instead of dancing, you ask? Tom didn't want to go, and it was a bit of a drive...and I have to work tomorrow...so I was debating whether or not I should go. Trying to be a grown-up.

In the meantime, I went shopping for shoes to wear at my son's wedding. I should have gone prepared to meet my friends when I finished up, just in case, because shopping took longer than I expected (of course!) and by the time I got home, it was really too late to eat dinner, change clothes, and go back out.

Sigh and dang it.

Which just goes to show what I always tell my kids...if you don't make a decision, the decision is usually made for you. 

3. On Monday I had brunch with the sister and mother of a friend I've known since 2nd grade, Todd. They were traveling through a neighboring town and asked if I wanted to meet them. Of course!! 

 

That's me on the left. Beside me is Mrs. Scruggs - would you believe she's 81? She says 80 is the new 40. I love it! Across from us are Darlene and ... ah, I can't remember her husband's name!

(I'm sure my memory is directly affected by my lack of dancing lately!)

4. Jon Bon Jovi is coming to Austin in concert next month. For some reason, I wasn't that interested in him when I was younger and Bon Jovi first made it big. But now, I would love, love, love to see him, more than Eric Clapton or others who have been here recently. Love his music and his hair. Isn't that weird? Of course, I don't have money for tickets to see anyone. But if I did, now you know who I'd spend it to see!

5. In case you've been living in a closet with no access to a television, I'm please to inform you we have a new Pope! As a Catholic, I'm very hopeful about it. From all accounts, Pope Francis is a very humble, simple, but intelligent and courageous man.

I believe those are the qualities of a great leader of any institution, but especially for a church.

I hope you have a fantastic weekend. If you get the chance to do something you love, don't be wishy-washy and waste time trying to be practical like me - just go do it, for Pete's sake!

 

Linking up with

Instructions on Finding a Keeper

I'm combining both of today's Scintilla prompts into one:

"What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told? Why? Would you tell the truth now, if you could?"

 "Tell the story about something interesting (anything!) that happened to you, but tell it in the form of an instruction manual (Step 1, Step 2, Step 3….)"

 

1. First, form a serious relationship with a guy who is terribly jealous.

2. Win a scholarship in Chemical Engineering, where you are only one of a handful of women in the program compared to hundreds of men.

3. Take Linear Algebra Computer Programming in the first summer semester.

4. Become project partners with Don, who tells you about his girlfriend with the really cool apartment and doesn't even flirt with you a tiny bit.

5. Tell your boyfriend that of course your partner is a girl, just to avoid the inevitable accusations and fight that would follow if he knew your partner was really a boy. 

6. Make the mistake of letting your boyfriend see something with Don's name written on it.

7. Listen to the inevitable accusations.

8. Say "No really, Don is a girl. I don't know why she spells it that way." Shrug your shoulders and roll your eyes for good effect.

9. Change the subject really fast.

10. Mentally question whether you want to be in a relationship where you have to lie, especially over nothing at all, and especially since you're starting to have a hard time keeping up with the lies.

11. Meet a really great guy while you're out dancing one night and your boyfriend preferred going out with his friends.

12. Say "yes" when he asks if he can meet you at Gilley's the next night to see Alabama play.

13. Let your boyfriend know you met someone, because you don't want to lie anymore.

14. Go to the movies and a Pat Benatar concert and the Renaissance Festival with the new guy.

15. Tell the new guy the truth about anything you ever lied about to your (old) boyfriend to see if he can handle it.

16. Decide that even if this new thing doesn't last, you are never going to be in a relationship where there is no trust.

17. Introduce the new guy to your best friend at work (male) and another old boyfriend who you just reconnected with as friends and your most recent old boyfriend's mom, dad, and little brothers, watching his reaction very carefully.

18. If he handles the truth about you and isn't jealous about you having guy friends, marry him as fast as possible. He's a keeper.

 

 

If the Hard Hat Fits...

His eyes were blue. Such an intense blue they gave me the creeps. Maybe that's what it was, the intensity rather than the color. Paired with a scraggly beard, the whole package reminded me too much of Charles Manson.

"Yeah, we should all get together one weekend...you, your boyfriend, me, my girlfriend." We were making our afternoon round to all of the welders, tallying weld counts at the construction site where we shared welder's helper duties. 

"Sure, that would be fun," I told him, with no intention of ever doing such a thing. In all honesty, it wasn't just because he totally creeped me out. My boyfriend  wasn't the type to double date with co-workers of mine, anyway. Heck, I could barely get him to go on a date with me. 

But that's another story.

Blue Eyes (I can't remember his name) was just one of the characters I met in those two months I spent at the muddy, mosquito-infested construction site where my mother's boyfriend scored me a job. It was a good 'ole boy network back then...although I'm quickly realizing in my current job search that networking and knowing the "right" people is still a big asset.

Today I'm not sure whether I should bless R.L. for getting me that job, or curse him. I had dropped out of college, throwing away a full scholarship in chemical engineering, because I felt a dramatically desperate need to get a place of my own following my parents' divorce. My flaky 19-year-old brain had it all planned: I would get a job at one of the chemical plants where I could make enough to pay my rent and my own way through school. I didn't need that scholarship. Heck no. I could do it myself.

After spending days driving up and down the Houston Ship Channel, filling out one application after another, I was grateful for the welder's helper job. I think it paid a whopping $4 an hour - not huge money, but enough to get my own apartment. We worked four 10-hour days, receiving our brass tags in the morning and returning them to the brass shack when we left. 

The mud and the mosquitoes and creepy Blue Eyes were bad enough, but the worst part of the job were the Port-a-Potties, nasty in every sense of the word, including the graffiti inside and out. Why do some guys love drawing penises? 

If at any time during the day I needed to use the restroom, I went home 'sick'. Do you blame me? After all the road trips we've taken, Tom has a hard time believing I ever made it through a full ten-hour day.

On the up side, I had a crash course in character. There were some good people there. One welder in particular stands out, B.J. Johnson. I don't remember how I knew he was a good guy. Perhaps just through some conversations, probably the way he talked about his wife and kids or the way he treated me. He went on to work at a neighboring chemical plant with a friend of mine.

I was glad he got out of there, because, by contrast, many of the people I worked with were varying degrees of shady, enough so to help me see the kind of person I didn't want to be. 

For instance, one of my foremen wanted me to smuggle stuff out of the tool room in my purse; the other one cooked alligator in the rod box for lunch - when hunting alligator was illegal. (It tastes like chicken, by the way. Hey, I never said I was perfect!) 

A guy who worked in the warehouse always talked about being high on Vicodin - it was prescribed for a back injury, but I don't think at the doses he took them. I'm pretty sure he was selling them, too.

The only woman I remember working with had a gun in her purse and a butterfly tattooed on her décolletage, way before tattoos became mainstream. Her boyfriend was in the Bandidos. I can't remember her real name, but the welders called her Moo-Cow, because of her ample, um, décolletage. 

Then there were the pot-smoking welders out in the weld-out yard, and the guys who would brag about cheating on their wives when they worked out of town and laughed about how they once chased a black man down the street, throwing glass bottles at him from their car.

(I had a few choice words for them about that. They didn't mention anything like it in front of me again.)

Also on the up side, I was hired by DuPont to help start up a brand new Syngas and Methanol plant because of my experience in and exposure to the construction site, even though it only lasted two months. (That's another "up" - it only lasted two months.) My gig at DuPont lasted thirteen years and three births; it paid for a couple of mortgages and helped with Tom's degree. (He had tuition assistance from the G.I. Bill.)

Maybe if R.L. hadn't pulled some strings to get me that job...if I hadn't been hired by DuPont...I would have given up and gone back to school. I probably wouldn't have I crossed paths with Blue Eyes and Moo Cow and B.J. and all of the others who made such a lasting impression on me, but I would be an engineer somewhere, maybe with more money in the bank than I have now.

But maybe I wouldn't have met Tom, had my babies, made those lifelong friends at DuPont, and learned how strong and smart I really am in ways I never could have imagined. 

That's just too many "maybe's" to worry about. So I'll just say thank you, R.L., for helping me get to where I am, and who I am, now.

 

I'm participating in The Scintilla Project, where we share the stories who make us who we are. The prompt this week is: Tell a story set at your first job. While I had held other jobs before becoming a welder's helper, it was the one that provided independence.

 

 

 

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.

Caught in the Act

The schools are closed for Spring Break, the winery is always closed on Monday, Tom had the day off, and it was cold in the house this morning. Do you blame me for sleeping in a little?

Because of daylight savings time, the sun was just creeping down the hills into the hollow when I drug myself out of the warm covers and spotted Belle peeking in at the French doors. I stepped out to say good morning and she went all wiggly, grinning and sneezing, and Max came prancing around the corner, ready to play. 

So I hurried through my own breakfast, changed clothes, and stepped out onto the front porch to go for our morning walk.

No dogs. 

I hollered for them off the back deck.

No dogs.

I walked up to the road, calling their names and whistling as I went. I waited...and waited...and waited.  

Finally, a small black dot appeared far down the road, way outside the boundaries of our "yard", breaking into a run at the sight of me. 

Max, oh you bad boy. Can you see him way down there?

Look how his ears are lying flat. He knows he's in big trouble. 

Belle came running out of the trees from our property about this time. That's their trick. Max sends Belle ahead by a different route to try to make me think they were in our "yard" the whole time.

Busted.

We went for a walk, anyway. It was too gorgeous of a morning to waste on punishment.

Why should I suffer for their bad behavior?

I'm a terrible mother.

 

Sweet March

 

I blinked and February was gone, just like January. Now March seems hell bent on keeping up the same grueling pace, but at least the scenery flashing by is prettier, dotted with the colors of Spring.  

Redbuds are still sporting their pink bling, bunches of yellow and white wildflowers are popping up everywhere, and bees are racing butterflies from bloom to bloom, too excited at the abundance to light for long anywhere.

Last night my friend Leslie had a few of us over for hamburgers and face-time. The weeks fly by too quickly in between our get-togethers. It was another friend's birthday, so we sent her a photo-wish, via Facebook.

Now I'll send it via Long Hollow, as well. I'm so grateful for all of these long-time friends and the technology that helps keep us connected!

 

Here are a few more March sweet!s from the past week:

 

Sunday: late Masses, so you can sleep in; toll roads when you're running late to a meeting; Mr. Bean, drums, a funny video containing both, and the friend who sent you the link 

Monday: taking a day off; your puppy getting a good report at his annual checkup; winning giveaways hosted by talented, creative blog friends, and finding the gift in your mailbox

Tuesday: watching high school theater students rehearse Snow White; spotting a turtle swimming with your puppy; a beautiful bouquet of flowers waiting for you at home, a gift from your future daughter-in-law; redbuds and prairie verbena blooming in your hollow

Wednesday: watching high school theater students rehearsing The Jungle Book and a King Arthur parody; fluffy sparrows and blue birds posing for you

Thursday: watching an old movie you love and a new one that makes your heart swell; conquering your after-work lethargy by running and writing when you get home; a walk with your puppies in the late afternoon sun; discovering natural stone sculptures near your little pond, put in place by your husband

Friday: the alarm clock snooze button ; the smell of spring on a misty morning; fish-fries at your church; Stations of the Cross; books you find it hard to put down

Saturday: sleeping in; a day for playing catch-up; dinner with dear friends; Siamese cats; skies lit up with lightning and rain on your windshield

Sunday: a blue sky washed clean of clouds; Quiche Lorraine and visiting with friends after church; a long walk with your puppies; yellow flowers

 

I hope March is giving you plenty of sweet! moments, too. Share them here! Now I'm off to try to convince workaholic Tom to play ping-pong with me on this glorious Sunday afternoon...

Cat-Friend versus Dog-Friend

I am a dog and cat person. For some reason, that seems to be a rare thing.

I love my puppies and their unconditional love and joy of life, but I also love cat personalities...their sauciness and independence and supposed indifference to anything but themselves. I love how they purr and stretch and give you sandpaper kisses, despite themselves...then bite you and run away.

Cats keep you on your toes!

If it weren't for a promise I made to our allergy doctor years ago not to replace my aging Siamese, Char, when she passed away, I know I'd have several cats lounging in patches of sunlight in my house, shedding on and shredding the sides of my couch, and leaving hairballs on my new comforter. 

So this video my friend Hilary at The Smitten Image sent me literally made me double up in laughter...something I haven't done in a long time!

Of course I had to share it with you, because laughter is the best medicine, and I care about you! Whether you love cats or hate them, grab a kleenex and prepare for a good teary-eyed breath-gasping belly-laugh...

You're welcome. (Thanks again, Hilary!)

 

 

 

Five - ish Things on Friday

 

1. Today is my friend Debbie's birthday. I couldn't find the photo I wanted to post, the one of us dressed up like beauty queens, acting silly in her bedroom back in 1973. I've turned my house upside down and still can't find that photo anywhere! I used to be so organized...

That summer I was at Debbie's house more than my own. She lived right around the corner. We'd spend hours listening to her "Bread" album, watching and re-enacting "Ultraman" episodes, and talking on the phone to everyone we knew. Oh, those were the days.

Now forty years later, we're still friends. Even though there have been spaces in our friendship, this past year when my parents were having such a rough time, Debbie let me know she was there to pick up groceries or run them to the doctor or whatever they needed. Her mother volunteered, too. They both still live right around the corner. What peace of mind it gave me to know she was just a phone call from me and a few minutes from my parents. 

Friends like Debbie are such a blessing, so even though her card will be late (sigh) and I can't find that photo, I'm wishing her a beautiful birthday and a year full of her own blessings. She deserves them.

 

And I'll post this photo, probably taken at her birthday party forty years ago. That's her on the back row in the dark pink shirt. I'm the one with my chin in my hand.

I'm blessed to still be friends with almost all of those kids, and in my mind, that's still what they look like. 

 

2. I'm reading The Hunger Games series right now. It's a real page-turner...I'm already into the second book of the trilogy and that usually takes me months, not weeks. In fact, it's all I can do not to just blow off this post, settle on the couch, and read! 

But there's a see-saw love triangle that's driving me crazy. I'm sure there's a point, but it's making the story drag for me. Have you read it? Did you feel that way or is it just me?

 

 

3. I've been blogging for almost 5 years now! That's hard for me to believe. Along the way I've met so many fantastic writers and photographers, and made lasting friendships with people I've never even met in person. (Yes, that's possible!)

In general, bloggers are thoughtful, supportive, and generous, and I have two great examples: 

~Through a recent Valentine's Day Blog Hop, I met Vicki at LoNg OvErduE/BooK ReNewaL. She hosted a giveaway in honor of Valentine's Day and I actually won!  This beautiful Shappy Fabric pin she made from denim and silk arrived in my mail box early this week. (Did I mention most bloggers - except for me - are creative and talented, too?)

 

 

~Knowing I'm a wanna be drummer, my friend Bill ("A Few Clowns Short") sent me a link to a funny video: Mr. Bean playing the drums. It's hilarious!

~Thanks to another blogger/writer friend, Walker (A Woman's Page), I'm privileged to be a member of GenFab, a group "...for bloggers of a certain age looking for support, encouragement, information, blogging tips, and community." Many of these women have intimidating credentials and accomplishments, but on our Facebook page, we're all just "women of a certain age" who aren't finished yet, eager to help each other on our journeys. 

4. I watched two awesome movies this week, in the name of education. "A Man For All Seasons", about the struggle between Sir Thomas More and King Henry VIII which resulted in More's execution, won the 1966 Academy Award for Best Movie. It's so inspiring, learning about this man who stayed true to his conscience, even to death, and in these days of political corruption and rubbery conviction, I think it should be required viewing for all politicians.

The second movie was "Something the Lord Made", an HBO movie starring Mos Def and Alan Rickman about Vivien Thomas, a black man without a degree who partnered with a white doctor to invent bypass surgery, but didn't get credit for his work until years later. It's a very uplifting, inspiring movie as well. 

The students had to pay attention to characterization and conflict and all of that literary stuff while they watched, and even turn in a paper at the end, but I was pretty much able to just sit and enjoy the movies and get paid for it! I love being a substitute teacher!

5. Besides the funny drum video I mentioned in #3, two other friends (one of them a blogger!) sent me priceless videos this week. One will get its own post tomorrow, but I'll share the other here.

This will be me in thirty years, God willing. Be sure you watch it till the end. I dare you not to dance while you're watching! 

                                                

 

 So kids, the lesson for today is...

Don't stop dancing as long as the music is playing.

~me

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Linking up with

If I could talk, I'd tell of...

Births. Deaths. Certainly those.

Celebrations for birthdays, for weddings, for the end of a drought and good crops.

Tables in the yard, laden with food. Tantalizing smells wafting from the kitchen, promising more.

Heartache. Loved ones who went to war and never returned. Arguments and screen doors slamming.

Joyous reunions.

Neighbors helping put out a fire, build a rock fence, raise a windmill, plant a harvest, chase down a runaway cow.

Friends delivering a baby. Providing food and a silent shoulder in times of mourning.

Bicycles and toy wagons littering the yard. A beloved mutt curled up on the porch near the door or sprawled in a patch of sunlit dirt in the yard.

Young couples, just married, and older ones, helping each other up the steps. 

The squeak of a porch swing on a summer evening. The smell of a bonfire on an autumn night. 

Days when voices and laughter echoed from the windows, open to capture a cool breeze in a stifling Texas summer.

And days like these when silence is palpable...when only memories and shadows walk the worn wooden floors.

I pass this old farmhouse on my way to work and it always starts my mind wondering about its history. Finally, one day, I stopped with my camera...and that's when it spoke to me.

 

A Little Sister, a Shower, and a Salt Lick

I taught her how to drive a stick-shift - she caught on fast, much faster than my kids years later - and when her brother broke up with me, she wrote me poems to soothe my broken heart. She was barely a teenager back then, two years younger than me, and so in our split-high-school district, we never even attended the same school, so our lives went separate ways.

But score another one for Facebook! We recently reconnected. So when she came to Austin to visit her daughter this weekend, we made plans to meet up again for the first time in decades.

In a cool little restaurant within walking distance of her daughter's apartment (Fabi and Rosi) we sped through the years over wine and yummy food. The hours went way too fast. 

It meant missing a writing contest deadline and getting up at 5 a.m. yesterday morning to get my part of my future daughter-in-law's bridal shower ready, but it was totally worth it. Those are the moments that make life sweet!, and you have to grab them while you can.

Here are a few more sweet! moments from the past week...

 

 

Monday: writing before work; realizing you can still work geometry problems; a roaring wind on a sunny day; getting hooked by a good book

Tuesday: soft birdsong on your morning walk; a friend calling you with a job tip; your son's wedding invitation waiting for you in the mail; playing your drums after work

Wednesday: a puppy waiting patiently and hopefully outside the door for you to step outside and cuddle with her; devoting time to your book two days in a row; a long overdue hair cut and re-blonding; quick hugs from your daughter; remembering to pay some bills before they're late

 

 

Thursday: friends who make adorable favors for your future daughter-in-law's bridal shower; clearance racks; your husband still awake to help carry groceries into the house and help put them away at 10:30 pm

Friday: time to run before work; a refresher course in World Geography; starting the second book in the Hunger Games series, while getting paid; catching-up decades over dinner with an old boyfriend's little sister; experiencing another eclectic Austin restaurant

 

 

Saturday: a bridal shower for your future daughter-in-law; a Saturday night at the Salt Lick with your kids and great friends

 

 

Sunday: sleeping in and going to late Mass; the stories on CBS Sunday Morning

 

I don't watch much television, but CBS Sunday Morning is one show I try not to miss. This morning they featured the story of El Paso student Mitchell Marcus. Perhaps you've already heard it, but if you haven't, do yourself a favor and watch this video till the end. 

I hope you have a week filled with sweet! moments...and may we all be like this high school student and make life sweet! for someone else.

Five Things on Friday

1. This made me smile yesterday. Can you see the sign on the wall in the photo above? The table in the teacher's lunchroom at the high school was covered with platters of cinnamon rolls while on the wall beside it is a chart promoting healthy teachers. (No, I couldn't resist them, but I only ate half of one. Compromise. YUM!)

2. Guests arrived by helicopter at the winery last weekend. It landed right beside the vineyard. We all turned into little kids, like we'd never seen one before - everyone ran out to the patio and had their iPhones pointed its direction. (Murphy's Law: I didn't have my Nikon that day.)

3. There's something about filling out job applications, about having to condense all of my eclectic experience into one page and trying to match it to whatever job I'm trying to get, seeing that all of those classes I've taken over the past 30 years only add up to 61 hours, not 72 like I thought...well, it just deflates me. 

4. I'm going to a wedding shower tomorrow for my future daughter-in-law. I realized I haven't been to a shower of any kind in decades, and never as the mother of the groom. I have no idea what to wear!

5. Almost forty years ago I taught my boyfriend's fourteen-year-old sister how to drive a stick-shift. Not long after that, my boyfriend and I broke up and I didn't see his sister again. But recently we reconnected on Facebook and we're having dinner tonight! She's in town visiting her daughter. I love how so many of those strands of our lives never totally go away.

Hope you've had a great Friday!

 

Linking up with Ms. 4444's

 

 

 

 

Monday, Wind-day

 

 

 

The wind is howling outside my window right now. No snow. No rain. Just wind, gusting up to 59 mph, the weatherman said. In some areas of Austin power lines are down and whole trees are blocking roads. 

We're lucky. Nothing but the exhilarating wind here blowing through the Hollow, like a good spring cleaning.

Tom continues to lay stones down by the little pond. Today when he was preparing an area with a small rake, he came upon a yellow-green thing the size of a half dollar. A baby turtle!

In all, he discovered 6 or 7. He tossed them into the pond and they swam for cover. He thinks they may have been trapped in the dirt after they hatched because it's so packed from the work he's been doing down there.

I wish I could have seen them!

While he was saving baby turtles, I was in charge of two high school geometry classes. I was relieved the teacher left me an answer key for the practice sheets they worked on - it's been almost forty years since I sat in my sophomore geometry class figuring the size of angles in circles.

But when one of the kids had a question about a problem, I was delighted to find I knew the answer. In fact, when I took the time to look at it with my brain turned on, the whole worksheet was a breeze.

"Don't make it harder than it is," I told them. Alas, the voice of experience, but applicable to so much more than geometry and so easily forgotten.

I hope you've had a great Monday, no matter what the weather where you are!

"I can't change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination." ~ Jimmy Dean

 

My Pencils are Sharp Enough

 

I slept a full eight hours last night. And I cleaned my bathroom this afternoon. Two things I haven't done in a long, long time. That's about all I've accomplished today, but I'm okay with it. It's my day off and I've relished it.

Middle son, Daniel, is home for the weekend, mostly because it was time for him to do laundry again, but I think he also enjoys the break from the city and helping his dad with projects around the house. 

He's picking up pizza right now. After we eat, he'll be heading back home. Well, to his other home. I feel I didn't get to see him very much on this visit. The weekends go by so fast when you only get one day off. But I'm grateful for all the days I've been able to work lately while waiting for that Perfect Job to show up and sweep me off my feet.

I've let my writing motivation slip a little - it seems to be proportional to the amount of free time I have. For some reason it takes me so long just to get started that unless I have a big chunk of time, I make no real progress. I just keep reinventing the wheel. I've got to learn to jump right in and get moving no matter how little time I have. 

As Ze Frank says below, I need to realize my pencils are sharp enough and just start writing.

 

 

 

Discovering Ze Frank on my friend Walker's blog was sweet! Here are a few other sweet! moments from the past week...

Monday: getting paid to watch wonderful National Geographic videos; a whiff of wild onions in the woods; 80 degree temps in February; discovering The Louise Log

Tuesday: a cardinal singing to you and posing for a few photos; your puppy's overflowing joy at your return from work; your mom's recent bloodwork and health screenings revealing no major issues

 

Wednesday: an email from a friend letting you know you received two Posts of the Week from Hilary at The Smitten Image; getting two Posts of the Week from Hilary!; the gift of rain in a drought

Thursday: seeing your future daughter-in-law in her wedding dress; visiting eclectic Austin shops with your daughter; not getting stuck in traffic; crying over mother/son dance songs and finally finding the perfect one

Friday: that first sip of coffee in the morning; discovering someone you've known for a long time attended your elementary school at the same time you did; an afternoon walk with your goofy puppies; plump robins; working on your book

Saturday: fitting in a work-out before, um, work; warm February afternoons; hamburgers fresh off the grill; a sweet love story movie with your husband and son, instead of the usual shoot-em-up; another episode of old Dark Shadows with your son

Sunday: eight hours of sleep; coffee on the back porch; visiting with friends after church; a clean bathroom; veggie pizza

 

What were some of your sweet! moments this week?

I'm planning on watching the Academy Awards tonight. Are you? 

I haven't watched them in years, but tonight I'm going to settle on the couch with some popcorn and see all the good movies I've missed. I'm rooting for Silver Linings Playbook, but that's because it's the only one I've seen. Who/what are you rooting for?

Even if your favorite movie doesn't win, I hope you have a week overflowing in sweet!

 

Five Things on Friday

 

 

1. Our property is dotted with small iron crosses, marking the resting places of so many precious furry or feathered or scaly loved ones we've been blessed to know. I miss them all. The one above is Charly's and Frankie's.

 

2. I will never get rich monetarily through my blog, but the friendships I've formed because of it are priceless. I've met so many supportive, encouraging, talented friends, and two of them have recently published books. I didn't hesitate to buy them because they are both wonderful, evocative writers, and I feel confident touting them here even though I haven't had time to read either one.  

Love Always Wags Its Tail, by Kathy H. Porter, is a collection of short essays about the dogs in her life. Wolf Pascoe shares what it's like being an anesthesiologist in Breathing for Two.

Follow the links to their blogs and you'll find information about the books. (I received no monetary compensation for these shout-outs - only friendship and support for my own writing.)

 

3. The next time you go out to eat and the place is packed and you start to get irritated because you feel your waiter is ignoring you, please take a deep breath, realize you are not the only customer in the place and that he/she can only do so much at one time, and please, please, please remember your manners. Thank you.

(Oh. And if the website suggests reservations, either make a reservation or don't get upset if you can't be seated. Especially if you're bringing 7 of your friends.) 

 

4. Back at the beginning of January, I decided I would start getting up at 4:30 a.m. instead of 5:30 a.m. so I would have time to work out and/or write before heading to work, if someone happened to call me out. (That's the life of a substitute teacher - you have to be flexible!)

Well, I finally did it. Once. This week. Yay, me!

 

5. For the past week or so, I've spent hours tormenting myself, listening to one You Tube video after another of potential songs for the mother/son dance at the upcoming wedding.

I just sat here at my computer and cried and cried. It was beautiful agony, I tell you, reliving those mom memories. But here's one that made me laugh, even though I wouldn't do this myself..

(Actually, that theme from the Ninja Turtles brings back so many memories, I almost started crying in this one, too!)

 

Nancy at A Rural Journal inspired me to start my Five Things on Friday, although I mutilated her better-alliterated version, 5 Facts Friday, so I encourage you to read hers and add your own if you're so inclined! And I remembered Mrs. 4444 has a regular Friday Fragments hop, so I'll be linking up there, too. It's a great way to tie up all those loose ends from the week!

Hope you have a great weekend!

The VIP

Belle waited just outside the French doors, hopeful I'd appear and be reminded of our morning walk. I stepped out, surprised at the balmy temperatures and blue skies. I had expected a chilly, drizzly morning.

With no worries about rain, I grabbed my camera and we headed down the dirt road to one of Max's swimming holes. Birds sang softly around us and dew glistened on the grass in the sunshine.

Thoroughly soaked, Max clambered back up the hill to me and Belle, and we headed home. That's when I noticed the black clouds in the western sky where mere minutes before it had been cloudless. And they were moving fast. Faster than any storm I'd ever seen.

It was a half mile back to the house. Before we'd gone a quarter of a mile, the clouds had caught us, swirling above me, then beyond, swallowing the sun and the light, like a thick wool blanket pulled over the Hollow.

No rain. Not yet. But it grew cold. The wind whipped my hair as we trotted the last steps down to the safety of the porch, breathing a sigh of relief and amazed that we made it before the rain fell and ruined my camera.

But by the time I had the puppies' breakfast ready and stepped onto the back porch, blue sky was already breaking above the tree line. Those black clouds had been nothing but bluff and blunder.

I heard it before I saw it, a tap dance on the metal roof. It came with a rush, falling hard and fast and blowing sideways in the wind. Rain, the VIP at the end of its imposing black cloud escort. I had a great seat, right at the edge of the parade. It even reached out and touched me, a gentle spray carried by the wind up onto the porch. 

Then it was gone, as fast as it appeared. Now there's nothing but blue skies, wisps of white clouds and sunshine framed by my window...and trees that still dance, celebrating the brief encounter, perhaps calling "Come back!"

 

(If you're having trouble reading this blog, if it's displayed weird or anything, please let me know. One of my longtime readers is having trouble and I'm trying to figure out what's wrong. Thank you!)

 

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!)

  

Signs of Spring, and other Sweet!s

Like the Munchkins when Dorothy first arrives in the (movie) land of Oz, yellow flowers are popping up and peeking out at the world, one by one, to see if the coast is clear and the rumor is true..that the wicked old winter is gone.

(Not that our winters here around Austin, Texas are actually wicked, but I had to go with the theme.)

And last week I spotted a few American Robins up in the trees, another sure sign that Spring is headed our way, despite the lack of buds on the trees.  

(Obviously, the trees have grown cynical.)

 

Spring shows what God can do with a drab and dirty world.  ~Virgil A. Kraft

Here are a few more sweet!s that popped up in front of me this past week...

 

Saturday: watching old episodes of Dark Shadows with your son

Sunday: Mass with your son; celebrating friends' birthdays with margaritas and Mexican food, laughter and hugs; a long walk with your son and puppies; watching the Grammys for the first time in years

Monday: rain falling on the hills; working in a school library

Tuesday: drizzly mornings and mist on your face; homemade chocolate and peanut butter covered strawberries; wood-fire-oven-roasted veggies; crab cakes; a call from your oldest son; new running shoes

 

Wednesday: watching the sun rise on your morning walk; meeting interesting people; joining with your church family to celebrate traditions of your faith 

 

 

Thursday: a Mexican Jay escort on your morning walk; getting paid to watch a video on Fitness and Nutrition; a text from a friend letting you know about a job opening; finishing a project; Valentine's Day dinner with the love of your life

Friday: first graders, even when they stretch your patience; silence in a church filled with people praying; dancing the Cotton-Eyed Joe and the Schottische; waltzing; stars dusting the hilltops

Saturday: fresh pizza when you're famished; the giggle of leaves playing in the wind on a stone terrace; making a dent in your laundry and email after a week when you've barely been home

Sunday: a deep breath and a cup of coffee on the back deck before returning to the fast track; making surly customers happy; news that your son and his love completed the Livestrong Half Marathon with their personal best times; sitting on the back deck after work, sipping a glass of wine and pouring the characters and stories buzzing around in your head onto paper until it's too dark to see

Here's to another Sunday and another week full of sweet! moments waiting to pop up and surprise us! Keep your eyes open!

Share some of your own sweet!s from the past week in the comments. I love to hear them!

(Typepad's new spam-blocking system is still dumping 95% of comments, including my replies (!), into the spam folder. So don't worry if your comment seems to disappear! I'll retrieve it as soon as possible. Thank you!)

Five Things (A Day Late)

 

I intended to post this last night. You know, "Five Things on Friday" - that catchy alliteration thing.

Instead, I went dancing. 

So here are my "Five Things on Friday, on Saturday":

 

1. Did you watch the Grammies? I did this year for the first time in ages. So I was even more jealous that my kids got to see the grammy-winning band "Fun." in Austin two nights later! (Is it okay to be jealous of your kids?)

2. I was raised Baptist, but converted to Catholicism more than 15 years ago after about 15 years of contemplation about it. Pope Benedict XVI's decision to resign earlier this week came as a huge surprise. However, I respect him for stepping down if he feels he isn't physically able to do the job anymore.  It's unusual, as far as tradition goes, but I'm not worried about the Church and don't anticipate huge changes.

3. I received another "sorry, you aren't our choice for this job" email.  It was for an administrative assistant position that didn't pay much. I replied with my thanks for letting me know, and asked if they could tell me why I wasn't chosen, in case it was something I could change and increase my odds with the next application. I was told the "chosen one" has a bachelor's degree and more years of clerical, accounts payable, and customer service experience... which tells me they must be at least as old as I am, but they're still scrambling to find a job and are forced to resort to low-paying positions, despite years of experience and a bachelor's degree.  Which means I'm screwed in the job department, if that's my competition. (No, I'm not giving up. Just whining.)

4. THE WEDDING is coming up fast! I need to find a good mother-son song for the reception. Any suggestions?

5. I came across a fortune cookie fortune in my purse. I have no idea where it came from, but I love what it says: "In the providence of the mind, what one believes to be true either is true or becomes true." Do you agree or disagree?

I hope you've had a wonderful Saturday!  

 

 

Five Mexican Jays, keeping an eye on the Hollow

 

P.S. Typepad seems to be acting up again. Please send me an email and let me know if you have trouble leaving comments or viewing this post in any way. barbarashallue (at) yahoo (dot) com

Thank you!

 

What is (Real) Love?

Love talked about can be easily turned aside, but love demonstrated is irresistible.~

W. Stanley Mooneyham
American minister and speaker, 20th century

 

I was bemoaning the fact that, despite hundreds of miles run, lunges lunged and squats thrusted, and losing enough weight that I could buy my bras in "training" sizes, I still have my grandmother's saddle-bag thighs.

"But you don't have any cellulite anymore," Tom told me.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

The next day I looked for myself. Sigh. Just as dimpled as ever. I knew Tom hadn't been lying or merely trying to make me feel better; he just can't see worth crap anymore. 

But he also just doesn't care. He doesn't care that my hair is thinning. Heck, he wouldn't care if I went bald. He has never been able to tell when I'm wearing makeup or not (I've tested him)...so I'm sure my deepening wrinkles go unnoticed. He pays attention to me, he sees me...but it's the me on the inside...the me that he met and fell in love with despite himself almost 31 years ago. He looks past the "me" on the outside just as I look past the 55-year-old "him" on the outside and see the "him" who asked me for a dance at Diamondback so many years ago.

That's love.

With my son's wedding on the horizon, I've been thinking about married love and what makes it last - or not. Here are a few more...

...Love is the sound of drums coming from my house...fulfilling a wish I had tossed aside, believing it couldn't come true because there wasn't a spot for them in our new house. Tom surprised me with a set (thank you, Craig's List) on our anniversary a few years ago. It proved to me he pays attention. At least sometimes.

(Love is throwing him not one, but two surprise birthday parties...plus a huge family reunion/50th birthday party that lasted two weeks and involved having people sleeping on every square inch of the house, including on a mattress in the downstairs shower stall. Poor Kirby)

...Love is coming in the house from a long weekend, relieved to discover your coffee grounds from four days before have (thank the Lord!) been dumped and all the pieces are clean and dry, ready to go...despite the fact that your spouse doesn't drink coffee. (If he hadn't cleaned it for me...ooh, gross!)

(Love is picking up empty Dr. Pepper cans from all over the house...and outside...and biting my tongue. Pretty much.)

...Love is finding the coupon section of the Sunday newspaper separated for me, without asking.

(Love is gathering up the Sunday newspaper, at times from different rooms in the house, and putting it in the wicker basket where it goes.)

...Love is not minding that I plant myself in front of the computer every evening after dinner to write...and biting his tongue when he sees I'm on Facebook instead.

(Love is not minding that some nights he just crawls in bed and flips channels, instead of working on whatever project is in progress at the time, because he's physically and mentally worn out. He leaves the house at 5:30 am, for goodness sake!)

...Love is not being jealous about phone calls from old boyfriends, or emails from old boyfriends, or birthday lunches with old boyfriends.

(Love is not being jealous about his women friends and co-workers...even when he pinches Lisa's rear-end.)

...Love is always dancing the Cotton-Eyed Joe and the Schottische even though his hips and ankles still hurt from that accident in 1998.

(Love is sitting by his side in the hospital for a week, afraid to leave him...holding the urinal in place for an hour because he thinks he can go on his own...feeding him ice chips, sleeping on a fold-out chair, grateful for the sound of his snoring because it means he's alive.)

...Love is piecing together sections of workshop floor matting for me to lie on when I do sit-ups, so my tailbone doesn't get bruised anymore.

(Love is subscribing to Men's World e-newsletters and forwarding the good ones to him to keep him healthy.)

...Love is not nagging each other because the bathroom he/she is in charge of cleaning is a borderline health problem.

...Love is hanging on to and supporting each other through the illness and death of a parent, financial worries, and the never-ending ups and downs of having children.

...Love is saying to hell with everything that needs to be done around here to play ping-pong...or go for long walks along the creek...or travel virtually to Ireland or Istanbul or Italy with Rick Steves...

...Love is still joking around, still having fun, still laughing at each other and at ourselves after almost 32 years...and hoping we have at least another 32 together.

The proof of love is in the works. Where love exists, it works great things. But when it ceases to act, it ceases to exist.

~Pope St. Gregory the Great

 

 

What do you think "Love is..."?

Share with me! 

 
(If your comment doesn't show up right away, don't worry. Typepad's new anti-spam system is dumping them all into my spam folder. But I'll find them. Thank you!) 

 

This is re-post from 2010 that I spiffied up in honor of Valentine's Day and the 1st Annual Valentine's Day Boost-My-Blog Party hosted by a Rural Journal and Two Bears Farm. Follow the links to check out other participants.

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.)

 

It Started with Peter...

 

 

It was Peter Noone's voice I first fell in love with. My six-year-old heart broke for him when he sang to Mrs. Brown about her lovely daughter. 

"Wait for me, Peter," I told the radio, "I'll never break your heart like that."

I still can't resist a British accent.

Imagine my excitement the next year when my aunt invited my sister and me to see his adorably-boyish face and tousled sandy-blonde hair in person! Herman's Hermits were coming to the Houston Coliseum!  It would be my very first concert. 

My memory about the actual concert is pretty sketchy. I know I wore pink, all the way down to my Keds. My mother had taken me shopping for a special outfit. And it seems we sat pretty close to the stage, close enough to see Peter's precious face, but that might just be wishful thinking playing with my memory.

The Animals were the back up group. They became one of my favorite bands, too. Now that I think about it, I bet my attraction to bad boys can be traced to watching Eric Burdon sing "Little Red Riding Hood" up on that stage.

Young love is fickle, though.  Bobby Sherman, David Cassidy, Davy Jones, Peter Tork, Paul McCartney, Dennis Wilson, that kid on H.R. Pufnstuf (Jack Wild - British accent again!)...they all made my heart go pitter-patter.

 

But it was another adorably-boyish face topped with tousled sandy-blonde hair that finally caught my heart for good. He wasn't a celebrity and he didn't have a British accent, but he was born in England.

Close enough.

 

 

Did/do you have your own Celebrity Crush?

 

This post is part of a Generation Fabulous bloghop. In honor of Valentine's Day, the February theme is My Celebrity Crush. 

 

Validation (and other sweet!s)

I stood in the empty bathroom staring at myself in the mirror, repeating the same sentence over and over and over, forcing myself to look me in the eyes as I spouted my pitch.

Practice, practice, practice. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

There were two of them, one right after the other. They each sat at the end of a long table on the far side of a small room. I didn't come away with an agent begging me for my whole manuscript, but I did walk away from the two critique sessions at today's writing conference with validation and hope and encouragement.

Each of them, the experienced author and the agent, gave me suggestions on how to improve my children's book, but overall, they liked it. In fact, the author said she loved my main character. It made me feel the same way I did when a teacher praised one of my children.

Sweet!

(Everyone says they aren't looking for validation at these things, but it sure feels good when you get enough to make you feel your work hasn't been a total waste of time, and you feel motivated to keep working on it rather than tossing the file in your virtual trashcan.)

Here are a few other sweet! moments from my week...

 

Sunday: watching the Super Bowl with your parents; being able to check your email on your phone

Monday: plumbers who come out right away to fix your parents' broken faucet; helping your mom get to her doctor's appointment; the crunch of gravel on your caliche road signaling you're home

 

 

Tuesday: running for the first time in days; a slow day at the winery so you have time to take photos; recognizing one of your son's friends at the grocery store, despite all the whiskers on his now-grown-up face; Girl Scouts and Girl Scout cookies

Wednesday: a busy day at the winery, with great customers, so the time passes fast; the contrast of storm clouds and bright sunshine 

 

Thursday: the smell of crayons; the creativity of elementary school kids; an afternoon walk with your puppies; an oasis in the woods; a virtual trip to Prague, courtesy of a friend's photographs and Facebook posts

Friday: Great White Pyrenees and shaggy black labs you meet in the vet's office; a catch-up talk with a friend;  shopping with your daughter; paychecks in the mailbox; a son who bothers to remove a piece of dust from a tiny spider's leg

Saturday: your son waking early to wish you good luck in pitching your book at your writing conference; writing conferences; new blossoms on a redbud tree

 

I hope the coming week is full of validation and sweet! moments for you!

The Artist

 

I stand mesmerized, watching him consider the next space before choosing a rock from a collection he's gathered over, not just months, but years. That's how long the vision has been in his mind.

To me, the rock he chooses looks like a perfect fit, but his eyes see more than mine can. He oh-so-gently taps and chips at it until it truly is a perfect match. I can see that now. No mortar or concrete will be required to hold it in place. Only sand. And it will last forever. 

 

Before laying it in place, though, he carefully prepares its space with a small shovel and rake, using two levels to get it just the right angle and depth with the surrounding stones. Finally, he fills the gap between the new and old with sand. 

Then he moves on to the next space and starts all over.

This is my husband's latest project, creating a beautiful oasis near a little pond that was tucked away so deep in juniper trees and undergrowth when we first stepped foot in Long Hollow that we didn't even know it was there. That's hard to imagine now.

It's my favorite place in the whole world, especially when the waterfalls are flowing.

He works on it every bit of spare time he has between his job and working on our old cars. If I worked on my books so diligently, I'd be on my tenth by now.

He's a true artist, getting a vision in his mind that gnaws at him until he sees it through. I admire his focus, his drive, his attention to detail.

Every creator painfully experiences the chasm between his inner vision and its ultimate expression. 

~Isaac Bashevis Singer

 

 

a Celtic cross inlaid in the front walkway

 

cedar sprigs imprinted on our front doorstep

 

He never says "That's good enough." His perfectionism in general can drive me crazy, but when it's channeled into the right areas, it blows me away...and inspires me to raise my own neglected artist within to a higher standard. 

Art is when you hear a knocking from your soul — and you answer.

~Terri Guillemets

 

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

 

Thank you, Hilary!

 

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!)

 

 

Here I Go Again (a BlogHer Book Club review)

 

Think about your life.

If you found a way to go back in time to some point in it, would you try to change anything? Would you take advantage of the chance for a do-over? Perhaps swallow some angry words you've always wished you could take back?

Or would you leave things just as they are?

I've been thinking about that as I read Here I Go Again by Jen Lancaster for the BlogHer Book Club.

For years I said I had no regrets, that I wouldn't change a thing if I had the chance because of my wonderful husband and kids. I've had my share of downs, but overall, I love my life. I'm blessed and I know it.

But the truth is I do have some regrets, and if I had the chance, I'd high-tail it back to the fall of 1977, breakup with my then-boyfriend and attend all of my college classes, instead of driving to Galveston and moping on the seawall about how bad things were in my life right then. (Why do some of us do that, make bad situations worse by creating new problems for ourselves?)

Without the distraction of a cheating boyfriend chipping away at my self-esteem, and by keeping up with my classes, I think dropping out a year later would never have crossed my mind.

I would still have met Tom, because I believe it was part of God's plan for us to be together. (I don't think it was His original plan for me to drop out - I think He just cleaned up what I messed up. He's good at that. Lots of practice, unfortunately.)

With a Chemical Engineering degree in hand, I could still have gone to work at the DuPont chemical plant, where I made so many great friends.

But since I'm not a character in a novel like Lissy Ryder, the main character of Here I go Again who does get a chance for a do-over, I'll just give thanks that God is able to make the best of our bad decisions if we let Him. 

Lissy is a former high school mean girl, all grown up and dealing with the fruits of her lifelong sharp tongue and selfish ways. She is forced to move back in to her childhood home when her husband files for divorce and she loses her Public Relations job.

Her twenty-year high school reunion approaches and, when she sees that many of her former classmates are huge successes, she gets the idea of starting her own PR company and soliciting business at the reunion.

Unfortunately, but understandably, all of her classmates despise her. Even her sweet, long-suffering best friend Nicole finally dumps her on one of those former classmates when Lissy gets drunk at the reunion.

But thanks to that classmate, Lissy is able to relive a few weeks of her high school senior year, where she makes better decisions and manages to be a kinder, gentler version of her previous seventeen-year-old self. 

Waking up in the new present, she's pleased to find that everything has gone her way this time. She's rich, the owner of a highly successful PR company, and still happily married.

Of course, the butterfly effect being what it is, everything isn't as great as it seems at first...but I won't divulge anymore in case you decide to read it yourself, which I think you should just because it's so funny.

I did have a few issues with it:

• Lancaster implies that all Homecoming and Prom Queens are mean snobs. As a former Homecoming and Prom Queen, I disagree. (I hope my classmates do, too!) 
• She says (through Lissy) that having children makes you look old before your time. Obviously, I disagree with that, as well. 
• A few plot parts felt manipulated. My critique group would have torn those apart. 
• Other than Lissy and her mother, the dialogue and characters were indistinctive.
• Oh, and for some reason one character ends up bald after Lissy's trip back in time because in the new future he's in a bad marriage. Huh? 

But overall I enjoyed it. It kept me turning the pages to see what was going to happen next. I felt it was thought provoking, triggering a lot of what-ifs.

And, as I said, it was just funny! Lissy is telling the story and her running commentary is bold and hilarious. I laughed enough that I forgave Lancaster for assuming I must be a mean snob since I was voted Homecoming Queen.

If you get a chance to read it, I think you'll enjoy it. If nothing else, you'll give thanks your high school years are behind you.

What about you? Is there anything you would change if you could travel back in time?

P.S. This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are totally my own. Join the discussions on the book here.

 

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? 

 

Choices, Decisions, and Foggy Roads

 

A thick blanket of fog settled on the Hollow every morning earlier this week. Heading out on my walks, I could only see a few steps ahead before the fog obscured the path. 

Isn't that the perfect metaphor for life, that our paths are hidden, clouded by so many unknowns? And yet we know there's still a path, even if we can't see for sure where it is leading us. All that is clear is this moment and perhaps a few seconds beyond, before the future becomes veiled. There's nothing to do but put one foot ahead of the other, keep moving forward, with faith that we'll make good decisions and end up where we're supposed to be.

I've been thinking about choices lately, triggered by my dad being rushed to the hospital again night before last following another mini-stroke. I can't run down there this time to see him or help my mom; I can't afford to take off work.

Tinged with guilt, my mind wants to drift to "what-if"s...

...What if I hadn't dropped out of college? What if I had continued taking college classes when we first moved instead of putting it off until the house was built ten years later, when we were facing tuition x 3 for the kids? What if I had snagged something full-time years ago instead of juggling all those part-time jobs while the kids were in school? 

Would we be so stressed about money now? Would I be retired, able to pursue writing and photography at my leisure as a second career, and run down to help my parents whenever they needed me?

Perhaps. But perhaps not. I mean, really, flirting with remorse over what-ifs is such a waste of time, isn't it?  The path was just as foggy then as it is today. And at least I thought I was making good decisions. I had a plan...the path just didn't go in the direction I thought it would.

And what about my parents? What if they had moved near us as we hoped? What if Daddy would take his medicine and eat the way he's supposed to to control his blood sugar? Other people's decisions often affect us as much as our own.

And now I'm peering into the fog, with more decisions to make. Tom suggested I go back to school full-time. He figures two years should do it. But, as the one who pays the bills, I know how tight we're already stretched. I mean, we're jumping-up-and-down-to-get-our-jeans-on tight.

Maybe you can get a scholarship for being old, a little voice whispers, and I feel a flame of hope flare in my heart that I thought was completely snuffed...the one that dreams of getting a degree. 

But then what? Would I teach? Would I be able to get a job, even with a degree, at my age? Would I have time for my writing and photography, or have to put those on a shelf for awhile?

Decisions, decisions. Will this fog ever lift?

To decide is to walk facing forward with nary a crick in your neck from looking back at the crossroads. 

~Betsy Cañas Garmon

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

P.S. Thanks to Vanessa for reminding me of this prayer by Thomas Merton...

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going

I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you.

And I hope that I have that desire in all that I am doing. 

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire

And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death.

I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and will never leave me to face my perils alone.

Amen.