Long Hollow

The Simple Things are the Sweetest

Dawn is waking to rain and thunder this morning. She must have pulled the covers back over her head because the Hollow is still dark outside my window, except for occasional flashes of lightning.

On a normal morning, the puppies and I would already be out on the dirt road, saying hello to the new day. Instead, they're snoozing in the laundry room, warm and dry and happy, and I'm playing catch-up on posting my sweet!s.

Rain is sweet during a drought, but especially when you were able to spend hours the day before feeling the sunshine on your skin.

Weeks...well, maybe months ago, Tom trimmed branches from the trees lining the creek. I told him I'd drag them to a burn pile, and I finally kept my word yesterday morning after my walk. I had a few free hours and was already coated in mosquito spray.

Even though the morning was warming up fast, the shade softened the heat. Wildflowers dotted the woods and a field of Mexican hats grew beside the burn pile. Birds chatted in the trees and the running creek sang to me as I cleared the creek and paths of fallen branches.

Sweat soaked my head and torso, tickling my nose, and bits of leaves and bark freckled my arms, but it felt good using my muscles to gather the branches, drag them uphill, and throw them on the growing pile. I've always loved repetitive work like that, when my thoughts are free to fly where they will.

The higher the pile grew, the younger I felt. I gave thanks for the morning, the sunshine, the flowers, the creek, the sweat...but mostly for the ability to do the job. When you're 54, you don't take that for granted.

 

And now for more sweet! moments from the past week...

 

Monday: friends sending you links to potential jobs; the anticipation of a weekend at the beach with girlfriends, even if it's still months away; a photoshoot with a fun family; wading in a lake on a hot day; fawns

Tuesday: relishing a soft summer morning with your puppies before a busy day at work; daily talks with your mom 

Wednesday: phone conversations with your mother-in-law; your mother-in-law winning $1000 on a $1 scratch-off lottery ticket; word that one of your photos will be featured in HuffPost 50 

Thursday: hearing a friend's voice for the first time in a year; dinner, lots of popcorn, and a Matthew McConaughy movie with girlfriends 

Friday: finally using a certificate for a massage your son gave you for Christmas; catching up with a dear friend; getting your client's photos to her on time and hearing that she liked them; old red trucks; your dad NOT having to go to the hospital 

Saturday: a road trip with your kids to spend Father's Day with your dad; your mom appearing stronger than the last time you saw her; hearing that your three Beach Yoga photos will soon grace the wall of a summer rental home belonging to a friend in Greece

Sunday: having the coffee ready and the newspaper on the table for your dad when he wakes up; hamburgers and cheesecake in honor of the father of your children; hearing that a friend was baptized this morning; green metallic beetles with orange legs

Monday: bouquets of mountain pinks dotting a hillside; a green heron posing for photos; sweating from physical labor; your little creek and nearby paths finally cleared of fallen trimmed branches; a few hours with, and a hug from, your baby girl; email and Facebook that can connect you to friends on the other side of the world

Tuesday: rain during a drought; unexpected time to post your Sweet!s of the Week; the moment storm clouds break to reveal blue sky 

I didn't quite finish this before the storm drifted past, with little patches of blue sky peeking down, reminding me to get the dogs out of the laundry room. I cut the walk short, though, and we stuck to the muddy road because I forgot to douse myself with mosquito spray. 

Mosquito spray is definitely a sweet! around here this summer. It's the simple things, right?

I hope you're remembering to notice the sweet, simple blessings in your life. Share them with me here and make them doubly sweet!

"I'm just a simple guy, I live from day to day. 
A ray of sunshine melts my frown and blows my blues away." 

~Jimmy Page, Robert Plant, and John Bonham, "Out On The Tiles" (Led Zeppelin)

 

A Rich Inheritance (Happy Father's Day!)

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

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

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

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

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

...and giving thanks every single second.

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

"I can't talk," he'll complain. 

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

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

And that's that.

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

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

 

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

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

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

We square-danced.

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you, Daddy.

 

 

Sometimes the poorest man leaves his children the richest inheritance. 

~Ruth E. Renkel

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

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

 

Adventures in Hyundai-land (No autographs, please)

When you have a husband who can do just about anything, you don't spend much time waiting for your car to be serviced or repaired. He prefers doing it himself to save money.

But sometimes that husband ends up with too many cars and projects that need his immediate attention, or your car requires something that takes special equipment, like an alignment...which is how I ended up in a nearby Hyundai dealership's waiting room Monday afternoon.

I didn't mind. There was a Keurig coffeemaker nearby, wi-fi available, and I brought my bag of goodies: a photography magazine, papers to critique, a blank notebook, and snacks.

As usual, the mechanic found some other things that needed attention. He actually carried the cabin air filter out to me, to show me how nasty it was. "I think something was living in this," he said. 

Do you remember the little mouse I found in my glovebox? Well, now I know where that little toot was nesting!

But the most exciting part started about halfway through my wait. A large video camera captured a customer walking in the door, over and over and over. A commercial was being filmed, right before my eyes!

I snuck this photo. I didn't want to look like a total geek, but, I mean, how often do you get to see something like that?

(Why, yes I do live a sheltered life.)

 

 

That's not the best part, though.

See the man with glasses up there? That's the Director. About an hour later, he approached me and asked if I'd like to be in a commercial. Well, specifically to 'volunteer' to be in a commercial.

Well, heck yeah I would!

I signed the requisite papers and then waited while they "set up the shot". (That's film lingo for those of you not in the "Biz".)

Soon, there I was pulling a car I pretended was mine into the service bay, the Director and his camera crew on my left. I climbed out as gracefully as possible (which probably wasn't too graceful), smiled and shook hands with the service rep, exchanged some fake conversation about my pretend car, and then "CUT!"

We did it three or four times, standing in different spots, and then my spot in the limelight was over. The camera crew moved off to film another volunteer vignette.

My non-speaking two seconds on the tube will be part of a Grand Opening commercial for the Round Rock Hyundai Dealership - unless it gets cut because of the lack of gracefulness I mentioned. I have no idea when it will air, but I guess I need to start watching more television so I don't miss it!

Now I can cross "starring in a commercial" off my Bucket List - right after I write it on there.

 

By the way, thank you for the sweet comments I've received about yesterday's glum post. I went to bed reminding myself  to "Be still, and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10) and early this morning I woke with the sweetest sense of peace in my soul.

On my walk with the pups, my heart swelled in gratitude for the blue sky and birdsong all around me, and even for the wet dog hair left clinging to my hand after scratching Max because I know one day I'll miss it, as yucky as it is, because I won't have that stinky, goofy country dog to cuddle anymore.

My friend Shirley posted this in reply to my post on Facebook, and it is so very true. I hope if there are any worries or disappointments weighing on your heart, it helps you hang on.

"Joy comes in the morning."

~ Psalms 30:5 

Thank you, Shirley, and all of you again...

 

The Sugar on Top, Part 2 - Happy 80th Birthday, Mom!

Today is my beautiful mother-in-law's 80th birthday. She didn't want a big celebration, although she deserves it after raising nine boys into nine wonderful men.

...Probably because that would tempt all nine boys plus their families to converge on her house (or nearby vicinity) all at once...and even for a wonderful mother, that's a lot of family to take all at once, especially after the year she's had.

She lost Pop in August, after a big reunion in July where almost all of the brothers overlapped in Florida for at least a day, celebrating Pop's 80th birthday and two brothers' 50th birthdays. Everyone converged again to celebrate his life at a beautiful wake and stayed as long as they could to help Mom get things settled. 

While she's always amazed me (can you imagine raising nine boys?) her grace and strength over the past year have been such an inpiration to me. But then, from the moment I met Tom almost thirty-two years ago, Mom has been teaching me about faith and hope. Thanks to her gentle guidance, I eventually converted to Catholicism, although I knew she would love and accept me whether I did or not.

Instead of one big celebration for her birthday, she's getting a few mini-celebrations over the month. One son visited last week and Tom is there now, along with two other sons (one lives nearby) and our son Daniel. I'm sure the days have been filled with plenty of cribbage and 3-13, and the requisite name-calling and cussing that goes along with the competition.

She may be joyful and quick with a hug, but watch out for her when you're playing cards!

I would love to be able to give her a big hug and let her stomp me as usual in 3-13 today, but I'm just grateful I was able to share Tommy's wedding with her last month, where she danced with her sons, grandsons, and even the bride.

Now here I am, a mother-in-law myself. If I'm only half as good at it as Mom has been, my daughter-in-law is a lucky woman. I learned from the best.

Happy 80th birthday, Mom. Thank you for embracing me as your daughter all those years ago...for all the hugs and help...and especially for your grace and strength that comes from your immense faith. I love you!

A mom's hug lasts long after she lets go.  ~Author Unknown

 

For more about Mom, read The Sugar on Top, Part 1.

Fifteen Years Ago Tomorrow Morning...

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy 15th anniversary of your second chance, Tom!

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

Five Things from La-La Land

Linking with A Rural Journal's Random 5 Friday 

 

1. 

 

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

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

Thank you again, sweet Rae!

 

2.

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

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

 

Dear Mission Partners,

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

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

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

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

Jeannie 

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

 

3.

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

~ Fun

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

 

 

4.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

5.

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

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

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

 

Rambling about Dogs, Children, and Butterflies

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Mother's Day to me!

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

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

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

 

God, Grant Me The Serenity...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

God, grant me the serenity...

 

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

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I Won't Think About Good-Bye

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

...While I pray for a miracle.

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...

 

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

 

 

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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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? 

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.

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!

 

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.)

 

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.

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.

 

 

Rejection (and other sweet!s)

 

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

~ James 1:2-3 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

~ Cormac McCarthy, No Country for Old Men

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

Epiphany

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

I'll post my sweets and stones tomorrow.

I hope you've all had a wonderful weekend!

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

A New Year and Three Small Stones

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

Here are the three I've written so far:

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

 

 

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

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

~Michael Franti

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

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

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

 

Linking up with Lissa at...

 

Assorted, one by one

TG and I shared a bag of assorted Toblerone chocolates this afternoon. Have you ever had one? They just melt in your mouth. Of course, it had been a long time since lunch, and that just made them taste even better. As much as I love dark chocolate, my favorite flavor was white chocolate, but they were all sinfully yummy.

And that's the way the past week has been. When I look back on my list of sweet! moments, it's hard to believe this has just been one week. Even though I haven't much time for writing or photography, it has been a week of wonderful assorted sweet!s...

 

Saturday: a long walk with boys and dogs; an arrowhead waiting on the road for thousands of years for your son to find; watching Mr. Magoo's A Christmas Carol with your kids; cyclops cookies, made by your kids; sharing a box of Lammes' Longhorns; a Christmas tree, dripping in lights and memories

 

 

Sunday: Mass with your family; a delicious turkey wrap for lunch, made for you by by your oldest; another boy-and-dog walk, and another arrowhead; Christmas cards, ready to mail; a movie with your son

 

 

Monday: no traffic on a road trip to Houston with your kids; a trip to the grocery store with your dad; red-winged black birds at your dad's bird feeder;  Christmas Eve Mass in the church where your kids were baptized, and recognizing the deacon who baptized 2/3 of them; fresh homemade tamales and good neighbors

Tuesday: the miracle of Christmas; your son helping your wrestle the turkey into the oven; the priceless stress of too many bodies in a small kitchen, trying to get Christmas dinner on the table; watching Little Miss Sunshine and Horton Hears a Who with your kids and parents; the next generation contributing to holiday meals; a call from your brother-in-law and his kids; hearing your husband's voice when you have to be separated on Christmas Day

 

 

Wednesday: electric blankets on cold mornings; road trips with your kids; flaming sunsets and kids who will snap photos for you while you drive; a table full of Christmas gifts from a friend who goes overboard at Christmas; Christmas cards and paychecks in the mailbox

Thursday: making a big dent in sorting, reorganizing, and cleaning your house; nibbles on things you posted on Craig's List; running for the first time in days; the aroma of a roast in the oven

Friday: time to answer emails and catch up on a few friends' blog posts; a clean bathroom(!); gathering with friends and future in-laws

 

Saturday: seeing the Great Blue Heron perched on a tree near your house for the 7th day in a row; a day of errands and shopping with your daughter and son; winter in Austin, where you can stay warm enough with just a long sleeve shirt and a hoodie jacket; sharing assorted Toblerone chocolates with your daughter

 

Love the moment, and the energy of that moment will spread beyond all boundaries.

Sr. Corita Kent

 

A Sweet Saturday Morning

 

My kids will be here today. 

That was the first thought that crossed my mind when I woke up this morning. And I awoke without the usual pre-waking symphony of dueling alarm clocks. 

The sun had already made itself at home in the Hollow. Belle sat patiently outside the door, staring, waiting for a sign of movement. So before I started the coffee, I stepped onto the doorstep to tell her and Max good morning.

That's when I noticed the box from Shutterfly resting in the grass beside the front walk. I thought it was an odd place for FedEx to leave it, then ding! I realized it hadn't been left there - the wiggly puppy in front of me had moved it there.

As soon as I picked it up, she tried to melt into the front porch, hoping to disappear. But the box was in one piece -  no harm to the cards - so I just gently reminded her to leave boxes alone and scratched her ear. I also informed her, in a sweet voice, of course, that if the cards had been damaged she would be eating the cheapest dog food ever for at least a year. 

Whew! 

Now I'm off to decorate my tree, bake cookies, address Christmas cards, wrap a few gifts, clean house... perhaps fit a game of ping-pong in there. (One can hope!)

Later this evening I plan to watch Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol. I can't wait! I'm tempted to set an alarm so I don't forget!

I remember watching it every year when I was little. It's always been one of my favorites, and I'm so glad it's going to be back on television. I hope my kids agree to watch it with me.

Did any of you watch it, too?

It's been a sweet morning and promises to be a sweet day, overall. I wish the same for each one of you.

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

 

 

Monday: Happy Hour and the Austin Trail of Lights with your kids and their friends on a cold night; spinning under the giant Christmas tree at the end of it

Tuesday: snuggled under the covers, hearing your husband toss another log in the woodburning stove to keep you warm before he leaves for work; Texas weather - wearing shorts in December, after a frosty morning; your husband's project at work complete enough that he gets to come home for more than just a few hours of sleep

Wednesday: pink mornings; pajama day in a kindergarten class; reading to 5-year-olds; meeting deadlines; a husband's great attitude when yet another thing goes wrong for him

Thursday:  a live performance by Drew Womack while you do lunchroom duty in an elementary school; a Facebook friend request from your daughter for Christmas

Friday: snooze alarms; Christmas bonuses; seeing friends in the grocery store; Christmas cards and paychecks in the mailbox; surprise packages

Saturday: a morning with no alarms buzzing; finding your Christmas cards on the doorstep, but your puppy didn't destroy them; a great blue heron flying right outside your window where you sit typing your sweet! list; that great blue heron landing in a tree close to the house and staying long enough for you to grab your zoom lens and tripod and snap some photos

 

Every morning while the coffee brews, I glance at my email on my phone, always hoping for a job offer or a photo or jewelry sale. No such luck this morning, but I came across this Quiet Moment of the Day which seemed to speak right to me. Right away I knew I wanted to share it with you. Wishing you all a very merry, very blessed Christmas! And remember...

Take the time. Don’t be forever dashing. Try sauntering.

The word saunter has an
instructive background. It’s from the French Sainte Terre, Holy Land, and refers to the easy pace taken by the pilgrims who were enjoying the trip itself as well as relishing the goal. 

 
Life itself is a holy land, and deserves to be enjoyed en route.

~Joseph Gallagher

 

Why I Love "The Hobbit"

 

 

He was five, snuggled up close beside me on the loveseat for our ritual bedtime story, sucking his thumb.

"Are you sure?" I asked him. "There aren't any pictures in this book. Just a lot of words."

He nodded, so I opened the worn paperback and began reading...

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit."

Every night I'd quiz him on what we had read the time before, worried he was too young to understand, but he always knew every answer and wanted to continue.  Middle Earth had come alive for him, so night after night, chapter by chapter, we journeyed through it together. 

It was my second, maybe third, visit. My brother had introduced me to Tolkien and his hobbits almost two decades earlier and I became obsessed, buying ceramic statues of Bilbo and Gandalf, pewter wizards, and tiny castles. I had dragon bookends and calendars depicting beautiful Middle Earth-inspired artwork. I embraced my nerdiness.

It was the artwork that hooked my young son. He wanted to learn more about that beautiful, adventurous world.

I traveled there again with my younger two, and many years later we watched the Lord of the Rings movies together. So when I heard about The Hobbit movie, I crossed my fingers they would all agree to see it with me, once again journeying together into Middle Earth.

And they did. This past Sunday evening, my Christmas wish came true.

 

 

But sitting in that theater I got much more than my Christmas wish. Watching the movie, I was reminded of why I became a Tolkien nerd so many years ago and still want to share it with my kids.

There's the obvious...the adventure, the magic, the intricate world he draws us into. His genius still amazes me.

There's the theme of good versus evil...with good victorious, of course. And the characters, who forge friendships by focusing on commonalities rather than differences, a great lesson for all of us.

There's Bilbo's story itself, how he ventures out of his comfort zone and discovers strengths he never knew he possessed. Now I can identify with Bilbo even more. Like me, he is middle-aged, settled, comfortable, and doesn't believe there is anything special about himself ... but he sets out on an adventure anyway.

He sticks with it even when others doubt him, determined to help the dwarves even though he doesn't really know them. Compassion is the key to his bravery and loyalty. As Gandalf says...

  “I found it is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk, that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love.” 

When you boil it all down, the elves and the magic and the battles between good and evil, that single message is what you're left with. It's the reason I love The Hobbit, and why I wanted my kids to know it and love it, too. Because even the smallest of us, the seemingly least remarkable, is capable of kindness and love to one another. And I do believe that is the greatest power of all.

 

 

 

Lighting a Candle

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

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

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

 

Mastering the Fine Art of Procrastination

If we are ever in doubt about what to do, it is a good rule to ask ourselves what we shall wish on the morrow that we had done. ~ John Lubbock

It's all John Lubbock's fault that my Christmas decorations still languish in boxes piled in the middle of the living room.

Instead of spending Friday writing, cleaning, decorating, and all of the other "ing"s I've neglected, I jumped in my car and drove across town to have lunch with my brother's high school girlfriend because I decided I would regret not seeing her more than I would regret not freeing those poor decorations.

Vickie  had always been really sweet to me and I hadn't seen her in almost 40 years. We recently connected on Facebook after she stopped by to see my parents, and I couldn't pass up the chance to see her in person.

And then John's words were all the encouragement I needed Saturday to spend the day in old Georgetown, shopping resale and antique stores with friends, and then heading to a friend's Christmas party that night, where I caught up with people I rarely get to see and danced to awesome live music.

Sunday was full with church and work. I didn't even need John to talk me into just watching a movie with Tom and the middle son, who came home for a quick visit (mostly to do laundry, but that's okay with me!) last night instead of scratching things off of a list.

So here I am on Monday again, but wouldn't you know, I picked up a cold somewhere in all my running around over the past couple of weeks, so today, I'm taking it slow and easy, minute to minute.

First I slept late, then took a long walk with the puppies, bundled up against the brisk breeze. Winter came back to see us last night and is sticking around today, with highs in the 40's, even with full sunshine. The last few days have been warm and gray, and I'm relishing this change despite my stuffy head and chest.

So today the decorations might make it out of the box...but they might not. I might work on Christmas cards, or my book, or photographs, or laundry...or I might just head off on another walk with the puppies, or curl up with a book and a cup of hot tea on the couch, or doze off, watching an old movie. 

I guess I need to ask myself what I "shall wish on the morrow" that I had done. But whatever I do today, I refuse to stress about anything. The sun is shining and it's a glorious day.

And here are a few sweet! moments from the past week:

 

Monday: remembering the day you became a mother; celebrating your oldest son's birthday with Mexican food and margaritas; catching up on email - almost;  Christmas lights twinkling in a city park

Tuesday: a safe road trip to your parents' house; a sweet friend dropping in to visit, bringing Subway sandwiches; the view from the 30th floor in the Houston Medical Center on a stormy day; friends thinking of you for photography gigs

Wednesday: nurses who care about their patients and doctors who make house calls; getting a Post of the Week from Hilary at the Smitten Image; a call from your son

Thursday: your dad taking his blood sugar and blood pressure and meds first thing in the morning without you nagging him; neighbors who rake your parents' yard without being asked; arriving home after a few days away; an afternoon walk with your puppies

 

 

Friday: seeing a dear friend's face for the first time in almost 40 years; blowing off to-do's to watch a movie with your sweetie

 

 

Saturday: spending the day with friends exploring resale and antique shops; Reuben sandwiches; finding an old picnic basket marked $3; dancing with new and old...er, I mean, longtime...friends to the music of Andrew Venson, Soulman Sam Evans, and company; word from your oldest that he survived the half marathon obstacle course he ran that morning

 

 

(I love old picnic baskets!!!)

 

Sunday: kneeling to pray between your husband and son; French onion soup when you're sick with a cold; steaks hot off the grill, courtesy of your son

Monday: sleeping in when you're sick, a walk with your puppies on a glorious winter day, and a wide open, unscheduled day ahead of you

Belle is leaping through the grass!

 

Here's to a week full of good health and sweet! moments for all of us!

 

When You Know They're All Grown Up

 

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

~Kahlil Gibran

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

Sweet Relief

I almost didn't publish this post.

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

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

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

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

I went dancing last night!

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

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

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

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

 

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

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

 

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

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

 

 

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

Transitions

My Uncle Bobby passed away this week. Daddy's younger brother.

Like Daddy and the other men in his family, Uncle Bobby had suffered from heart and vascular problems for years, but it was a slow battle with cancer that took him away. He was a sweet man. In my heart I will always see him smiling, ready to laugh about something. 

That's him in the photo below, wearing my sister's wig, flanked by his son, Jeff, and yours truly, the Tomboy in ripped jeans. 

 

I'm grateful that I got to speak to Uncle Bobby a few times recently and assure him of my love and prayers. He called often to check on Daddy after his surgery. I'm glad they got to speak to each other, too.

Jeff stopped by my parents' house on my mom's birthday with a satchel full of old photo albums he'd found at his parents' house that had belonged to our aunt and grandmother. We opened them and stepped back into the years when we were oblivious to time.

When you're young, you can't imagine standing where your parents stand. You never dream that someday you'll be one of those pillars holding up the family, trying to help make decisions about things you had been happily oblivious to just months before.

 

 

Now time is tick, tick, ticking in my head. I feel the weight of it on my shoulders. I see, more than I ever did when I first became a mother, that circle of life, and I know that one day my kids will be taking my place as the pillars. 

But I remind myself that, if my kids are as blessed with oblivion as I have been, that time is still years away, and that I need to live each of these days, these years, to the fullest, just as my parents still do, to the best of their abilities.

I can't let the tick-ticking or the weight on my shoulders keep me from noticing blessings like cool old red trucks on display along the highway...

 

I pass Timeless Texas Classics on my way to and from Houston. Usually I travel too early or too late, and it's locked up. The old cars are tucked safely to bed up near the building.

But this past Wednesday the gate was open and these beauties were lined up close to the road. They smiled and waved at me, but I drove on by, in a hurry and too caught up in all I needed to do once I got home.

Then I realized the gift of the moment and made a U-turn. I spent several minutes walking up and down, snapping their photos, relishing that bit of suspended time.

Old cars and trucks make me smile - especially old trucks painted cherry red like the beauty above. And when you're a pillar - no, especially when you're a pillar - you need to do things that make you smile.

 

It really made me smile to hang out with a bunch of twenty-somethings that same night in honor of my soon-to-be daughter-in-law's 25th birthday. 

 

 

 

It was a little over six years ago when Tommy went to a friend's cousin's high school graduation party and fell in love. It's hard to believe Kirby was just eighteen when we first met her (and fell in love with her, too.)  

I love that all of my kids are living in Austin now, close enough to wish them happy birthdays in person.

 

Despite the challenges of the past few months, I'm still loving this season of my life.

I haven't been dancing as much as I'd like, but I can still dance. I can still walk down my dirt road and climb hills with my sweetie and puppies. I can hop in the car and meet friends for dinner... when we have time.

Time is the biggest challenge.

I haven't had time to finish my photography website or post new samples to sites where I can sell my photos or a dozen other things I need to do for my business, but this afternoon I get to photograph a beautiful family for the second year in a row. Last year the weather didn't cooperate and we had to take a few shots inside, so this year I'm going prepared with lights I borrowed from a friend, and I've been brushing up on how-to's of indoor portraits. Just in case.

I can still learn.

I'm also preparing for my writer's group meeting tomorrow evening. Thursday I was gloriously stranded at home alone for hours because Tom's car is out of commission and he needed mine to get to work so I spent them working on my children's book. Despite all that time, I barely eked out one short chapter, but I also overhauled my outline and fine tuned previous chapters, things I couldn't have done without several undistracted hours.

The next few chapters should come easier, and that's good, because I'm holding on to my goal of finishing my book by December 19, so I can submit it for critique before February's conference.

 

I hope whatever season of life you're in right now, you live it to its fullest. Let's make a pact not to waste a single moment of this sacred time we've been given... and especially the time we have with our loved ones.

 

 

Nothing in the world is permanent, and we're foolish when we ask anything to last, but surely we're still more foolish not to take delight in it while we have it.

~ W. Somerset Maugham

 

An Inadequate - but Sincere - Thank You to Veterans

"Lord, if your people need me, I will not refuse the work. Your will be done."

~St. Martin of Tours

 

 

My big brother Buster was headed to Viet Nam, saying his goodbyes, when I stood beside him in this photograph and smiled. I had no idea what was ahead of him. This was probably taken before his first tour of duty and so he had only a vague idea himself what to expect.

When he volunteered for his second tour, however, he knew full well what he was stepping into...but he did it anyway. 

 

 

My dad was in high school when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He joined the Navy soon after high school graduation because his country was at war and "it was the thing to do." In the next twenty-two months he traveled a long way from Texas aboard the U.S.S. Geneva...to places like the Philippines, the Marshall Islands, China, Burma, Japan.

Before he turned twenty, he had seen cities that had been destroyed by war and piles of dead bodies waiting to be buried. 

A few years later, his little brother Bobby followed his lead and joined the Navy, and many years later, so did my brother Donnie and two nephews.

 

Pop, my wonderful father-in-law, missed out on World War II, but joined the Air Force in time for the Korean War. He worked base supply in Okinawa, supporting bombers flying missions to Korea...about 100 aircraft every day.

He re-enlisted, got married, and hopped around the globe...living in England, Germany, and over a year in Pakistan, separated from his family (the other heroes - Mom had 8 teenage and younger boys to deal with by herself!)...visiting a dozen other countries...eventually staying put for awhile in Maryland, working with NSA (and a second job at the bowling alley to make ends meet), until his retirement.

A lifetime of service and sacrifice for this country.

 

 

My husband Tom was raised in a military family. For him it was normal to move every few years to someplace completely different...by the time he was eight or nine years old, he had lived in three countries!

He grew up on a tight budget - hand-me-downs, powdered milk and only two cookies a day...period! And yet as soon as he could, he joined the service...the Coast Guard. Among other things, he helped rescue fisherman off the coast of Alaska.

Four of his brothers also joined the service (three career Air Force, just like their dad, and another Coast Guard) and the youngest joined the Army Reserves. Now the next generation is following in their footsteps: two Air Force and one Coast Guard...and even marrying other service members!

I think it's very fitting that Veterans Day shares November with Thanksgiving, a day when we slow down to remember and be grateful for things that we usually take for granted, because veterans, despite the sacrifices they make for all of us, probably don't even make it onto our Thanksgiving thank-you list.

That's how much most of us take them for granted - as well as the freedoms they protect for us. Even when our country isn't at war, they go where they are needed to unfamiliar places, away from extended family, often living on a minimum salary. To many, they are a symbol of war, not peace, and sadly become targets of derision, scorn, blame... and even violence, like the sad incident at Ft. Hood a few years ago.

They deserve to be thanked every day of the year. A friend of mine says that when he's in a restaurant and sees a man or woman in uniform, he secretly pays their bill. What a wonderful idea! I think more of us should go out of our way every day to show our appreciation, but I'm glad there is at least one special day where we shine a spotlight on them, remember their sacrifices and make clear our gratitude.

Thank you Daddy, Tom, Pop, Buster, Donnie, Uncle Bobby, Uncle Howard, Kenny, Steve, Joe, Robbie, John, Sheila, Michael, Tom, Lynn, Robbin, Evan...and all of the other Veterans, past and present, out there! Because of you, we're free to go about our daily lives, without a thought in the world to how much that freedom costs or how much you've given.

But let's hope we do remember the price, as well as those who, through their actions, say "Don't worry. I got this."

(If this sounds familiar, it's a re-post from last year and the year before and the year before, with just a few tweeks.)

My Village

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sigh. Such a relief!

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

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

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

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

~ unknown 

I hope I'm that kind of friend.

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

Hope your coming week is full of sweet! moments!

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

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

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

 

Thanksgiving Comes First

Halloween is behind us. According to the calendar, the next holiday here in the states is Veteran's Day, followed by Thanksgiving, but have you noticed there are already Christmas commercials on the TV and jingle bells are taking over the stores?

For the third year in a row, I'm joining blogger "Suldog" Jim Sullivan in his outspoken stance on giving Thanksgiving its due time before we're all wrapped up in red and green and tied with a fancy bow. 

For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven...

~Eccleciastes 3:1

I wrote this last year, but it's still just as true:  This whole campaign isn't just about Thanksgiving. It's about time and seasons and silence and space and simplifying.

It's about focusing on one thing at a time and giving it all you've got, everything it deserves. It's about truly experiencing a season, thinking about what it means and being in the moment, not rushing ahead. 

If you feel you don't have enough time to prepare for Christmas if you wait until after Thanksgiving, perhaps you're making it too complicated. Trying to do too much. Focusing on the wrapping on the box instead of what's inside.

Time goes by too fast as it is and life has gotten more and more complicated. 

I’ve learned that we can do anything, but we can’t do everything… at least not at the same time. Timing is everything.

~Dan Millman 

Timing is everything. Let's take time to relish and focus. Let's slow down and simplify. Let's take things one at a time. 

But, as one friend said, "The only way you will EVER change this is to hit them in the pocketbook." So please join your voice and your pocketbook with me to remind the retailers that...

 

Please hop over and read Suldog's post HERE and another beautiful essay about Thanksgiving HERE. And if you're on Facebook, like the page HERE and then share it with your friends!

Okay, what the heck. While you're at it, click on the little "Share This" button at the bottom of my post to share it on Google+ or Facebook or Twitter or Pinterest or wherever you like to share. Help spread the word so our voices get LOUD. 

Small Stones from Methodist Hospital

Today is the first ever Mindful Writing Day, and I almost missed it.

Small Stones is a term used by Fiona Robyn, from Writing Our Way Home, to describe a moment when you stop, focus and really pay attention to one thing and write it down, using words that evoke the senses.

I began gathering my stones in Methodist Hospital last week, while waiting there with my mother during my dad's surgery. I'm not sure if I did it right, but in any case, these are a few stones I gathered to share. Others gathered today...more private...I've tucked away in my heart.

 

Low voices. Muffled laughter. Squeaks and rattles and hums of carts and curtains and beds. Seconds tick in slow motion. Nearness and life press into heart and memory.

Momma's breath, rising, falling in sleep. Curtain-filtered light softens the lines on her face so close to my own, erases the years to a time when she was the night watchman who guarded my slumber.

Hospital time, measured in tap-tap-taps of IV drips, a succession of television shows, and nurse visits. 

Purses and bags of hospital-waiting necessities dangle from above. Snacks, medicine, writing material, books. Daddy's street clothes rest in Mama's lap, wrapped in a clear bag. Excuse me, excuse me, and everyone smiles, opens doors, makes room for the pretty lady in the wheelchair and her klutzy driver.

 

Check out the other stones on Writing Our Way Home and on the Mindful Writing Day Facebook page. And join me in the Rivers of Stone Challenge this January - write one stone every day. 

 

"Pay more attention and fall in love with the world." ~ Fiona Robyn

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Week of Blessings

This is the way I remember it:

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

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

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

I was afraid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life is full of sweet blessings.

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

Twenty-four years ago today...

...I met my son Daniel for the first time. Of course, it was love at first sight.

With each passing year, I fell deeper and deeper in love with that creative, funny, compassionate, wise old soul.

How could I resist? Look at that smile! And that hair!

 

 

But, dang it (and thank God!) kids grow up.

It's such a curse and a blessing. 

 

So here I am, shaking my head in wonder that it's been 24 years since I first looked into those blue eyes. I just can't wrap my head around the number, but my heart overflows with sweet memories from each and every one.

And I'm grateful to still be adding to them.

He no longer lives at home - soon after I wrote last year's birthday post  he found a job and moved out on his own again - but he comes back for a weekend here and there, just to help Tom with a project, chill on the back porch with us, listening to music, or introduce us to some great obscure movie on Netflix.

I'll even get to wish him a happy birthday today in person. He'll be here when I get home from work. I'll stick a candle in a cyclops cookie and Tom and I will sing 'happy birthday' to him...and he'll let us, because that's the kind of sweet kid, um, man, he is.

Happy 24th birthday, Daniel! 

May you have clear paths and bright skies.

And no matter what this year brings,

I hope you continue to "Be silly. Be honest. Be kind."  (Ralph Waldo Emerson)

 

Also... Happy birthday wishes to my sweet sister-in-law Kim, my young cousins Ashley, Kayce and Kayce's daughter, Tayvie, and my inspirational South African friend Pete! 

A Morning Off

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

~ unknown

 

 

For the first time in almost a week, I went for a walk with my puppies this morning. I had a chance to work at the elementary school, but I turned it down, and I've only felt the slightest twinge of guilt about it.

The problem with juggling mutliple part-time jobs is never having any paid time off. Ergo, you feel guilty for taking a day off.

But I needed a day to breathe. To stop and consider and catch-up and regroup and indulge and tackle big chunks of projects. I needed a day at home, after days away, and days ahead already spoken for.

I discovered that flowers are blossoming everywhere, like it's a second spring. Purple and yellow explode along the roadside and spread into the woods. I think this happens every autumn, but for some reason it always catches me by surprise - but such a wondrous surprise! They kept my camera busy.

Belle and Max were overjoyed that I was walking with them. What a great way to start the day, having someone be overjoyed to spend time with you.

Then, for the first time in weeks - maybe months - I played my drums after our walk. I vowed again, as usual, to play a little bit every day from now on.

But even as I said it, I knew it was an empty vow. When you're trying to work as much as possible to help pay bills, plus trying to get a business started and write a book and take care of your family and every weekend you're not working there is something exciting going on out of town like high school reunions... well, playing the drums gets pushed way down on the list. But it was still fun today.

Next, I ran on the treadmill. As with the morning walks, it had been almost a week since I'd worked out, so I went easy on myself. I ran three miles, but let myself jog at a slower pace.

(It's funny. Lately I've dreaded my workouts, chafing at the time it takes, thinking of a million other things I need to do instead, like a kid making excuses to get out of doing her homework. But this morning, after not being able to work out for so long, I savored the opportunity. Weird, huh?)

I spent the afternoon focused on my budding photography business, specifically, working toward a website.  I purchased the domain and tomorrow, budget drained, I'm going to teach myself CSS and whatever else I need to know to build and design it. 

A lot of work, perhaps, but I'm just adding flowers to my bouquet. They come in all different shapes and sizes and colors.

I hope you continue to add to yours.

 

 

 

 

 

P.S. Thanks to everyone who nagged me to send those photos to Marilyn. I'm happy to report I did it! And if you're interested, I posted the photos on "For Marilyn, at long last" on my photography blog.

 

Linked to 

 

What would I do...?

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What would I do if I were not afraid?

~ Martha E. Manglesdorf

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

Till We Meet Again, Port A!

I just returned from my annual retreat with girlfriends to the coast - our 13th or 14th now, I can't remember which - where the sight and sound of the ocean renews my soul and invigorates my spirit.

The bonding of girlfriends... the food... the kiss of the sun on my skin... the birds and people and dogs posing for my camera... the dancing... sigh. They're all part of the prescription, too. Too many sweet! moments to count!

 

“The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea.” ~Isak Dinesen

 

 One in particular was wishing my longtime friend Patti a happy birthday in person while standing on a balcony that looks out to a blue-green horizon of sea meeting sky... now that was particularly sweet!

 

I've known her since 4th grade, so we have a long history of birthday slumber parties. Who would have thought they'd continue into our fifties? Life is so surprising and beautiful! (Click HERE to read a birthday tribute I wrote her in honor of her fiftieth birthday.)

I fully intended to publish a "Reunion, Part 2" post last week before heading off on a this road trip, but ran out of time. So I just waved goodbye to that intention, as well as its numerous brothers and sisters. There are times you just have to do that. I knew they'd wait for me.

They did, and now they're breathing down my neck. But before I give them my attention, here are a few more sweet! moments from the past week. 

 

Sunday: breakfast with classmates; a quick visit with your Mama and Daddy before heading home after a fun weekend; being able to check Facebook and email on your way home because your husband is driving; your son grilling pork chops for dinner; sorting through photos from your high school reunion

Monday: eight hours of (mostly) uninterrupted sleep; second graders; dads who eat lunch with their kids and then play freeze tag with them at recess

Tuesday: reading "Love You Forever" to second-graders, even though it makes you cry, as usual; getting a brand-new computer printer for free; being approached about one of your photos being used in a brochure for a nonprofit organization that helps animals

Wednesday: discovering new purple wildflowers growing along the road; a day at home to catch up on email, work on your book, critique your writing group's submissions, and scratch other to-do's off of your list

Thursday: road trips with girlfriends; your zoom lens working long enough to capture some close-up bird photos; moonlight on the water

 

“The waves of the sea help me get back to me.” ~Jill Davis

Friday: waking to the sound of the surf; walking and running on the beach with a friend; spending a day on the beach with friends and your camera; discovering you can still do a cartwheel; grilled shrimp and huge onion rings; dancing at Sharkey's until closing time

 

(Conni gets credit for this photo, and all with me in them, I think, unless she's with me. I'm the one in blue...not bad for an old lady, huh? The other two are twenty-somethings. Thank you, Ms. H, my 6th grade gymnastics teacher, for making us practice, practice, practice!)

 

Saturday: relaxing on the beach with friends for the second day in a row; strangers pointing out things you should photograph, like dogs lying on lounge chairs;  the rain holding off until you're ready to come inside; watching UT-Austin win a tight game while listening to the running commentary of your very vocal, passionate friends; full-moon-light kissing the waves and a lightning show flashing in the background; staying up late watching Saturday Night Live with one of your longtime friends

Sunday: a solitary walk on a near-empty beach in the pale light of dawn; a chance meeting of someone you first met the year before on the beach; being able to wish your dear friend happy birthday in person; a stop in Swinny Switch, Texas; fresh, warm tortillas and grilled veggies at the Alamo Cafe; your husband's face after four days away from home

 

 

Monday: explosions of tiny yellow, white, and purple wildflowers along your dirt road; meeting a neighbor and her dog on your morning walk; having enough money to pay the bills

 

Hope you have a week full of sweet!s!

P.S. Happy birthday, Mary Kay!

 

Friends, sisters, mothers, daughters... blessed with each other's love and company.

"Age disappears when you're at the beach." ~ me