Persiflage and Ponderings

Palmer House Chicago

2010-02-15T19:56:00.004-05:00

It was 1964. I was 13. A skinny little vanilla wafer with long brown hair and a large leather hat - pointy red shoes and feather earrings. I must have looked ridiculous. My father had an important meeting of the Ceramic industry’s premier annual conference at the Palmer House in Chicago. I wanted to look cool but when I walked into the lobby with my three brothers and motherand could not contain my aloofness. I was stunned and awed by its beauty. I remember the high ceiling, the intricate, abundant and extravagant gold décor surrounding every wall, entrance and archway. The chandeliers were larger than my bedroom at home and the paintings on the ceiling made me feel like I was in Italy or France. I remember twirling in the center of the lobby while my parents checked in. I loved the click of my shoes on the tessellated marble floors.

I read about the history of the Palmer House. Giving the Hotel as a gift to his new wife, Potter Palmer spared no expense in design and size. The Palmer House was the largest hotel in the world. It burned to the ground in the great Chicago fire 6 weeks after it opened, only to be rebuilt in greater magnificence.

I remember walking down State Street to the record shop and buying my first Beatles 45. It was actually the first record I every purchased. I had been given records, but never purchased one. I couldn’t help myself. I had checked in. My transfer credit summit would begin in two hours. I had a direct flight from Tampa to Chicago. I walked into the Palmer House, I looked at the ceiling and had a sudden urge to twirl. So I did!

Isn’t it beautiful!

Reflections - Challenged by Christy

2010-01-31T13:13:00.003-05:00

Okay, so I am a little behind and I did not do anyphoto touch-up. But I tried my hand at reflections. The first photo is the windshielf of Bill's old truck. You can see the reflection of the trees and see through the glass to the house. I think it is too busy. I would have like to park it where there is nothing but water or grass - but it was a good idea. I do not know what that little strip is in the upper right corner.

This is my favorite one. This is my thinking rock. I looked for a large rock to buy that was smooth and tilted just right so that it is comfortable to sit on. I found it and it was a job bringing it home! I surrounded it with lilies which are not yet in bloom. But it shows the reflection of the tree and I love the shadow of the lily leaf licking the curvature of the rock. Not particularly artistic but at least I now have a photo of my thinking rock.

This is my birdbath. I love the palm frond that is reflecting on the edge. I wish I would have gotten the entire round bird bath - I thought I did. I love my bird bath. I watch cardinals, doves, and finches bath. I also watch squirrels drink. All this from my lovely office at home.

The end!

Not the best of moods....

2010-01-18T15:45:00.001-05:00

Once I listed nostalgic remembrances; the ones that made me smile. Today, I am enjoying a day off but my mood is one that is hard to describe. I feel nostalgic but pensive like the past is a pleasant aroma with tentacles of reeking emanations that actually came from the future. Perhaps instead, they are the future’s dirty roots growing around the past’s pleasant herbs and spices planting themselves so that when the future arrives (as it has) the thistles and stinkweed cannot be uprooted without destroying whatever remains that is good. Okay this is beginning to sound quite gloomy – I will make a list and see if you get the feeling when I am done.

I remember:
1. When before my eyes on national television I watched Chinese students die in massacre at Tiananmen Square – That was 1989.
2. I remember my father being upset because people blamed President Dwight Eisenhower for Joseph McCarthy’s political noosing of anything and anyone whom he chose to associate with Communism; and then the media began to dismantle his distinguished military career and demand apologies for his decisions as a military leader. I don’t remember much else other than I thought Eisenhower was a German word for something to eat that my father didn’t like. I was 3 or 4.
3. I remember when Elvis was censored on the Ed Sullivan Show and the pre-teens and teens were outraged. The parents were neutral but vocal in church groups. The grandparents were appalled and supported the censor. The teens said grandparents were too old to know anything. Forced retirement rid American Corporate Life of old ideas during that decade.
4. In 1970-2 a Dallas Football player was arrested for exposing himself to a child. He was kicked off the team but they won the Super Bowl.
5. January 22, 1973 the Supreme Court gave America the right to kill its unborn as it decided the case of Roe vs. Wade. The grandparent were appalled – but they had no more clout amidst the American Monied.
6. When John F. Kennedy was shot, and Bobby Kennedy, and Martin Luther King. There was war every night on TV – soldiers were dying while we ate roast and mashed potatoes.
7. In the late 60’s daredevils like Evil Kneivel made the news breaking most of the bones in his body while doing something bizarre on a motorcycle. America wanted more.
8. When no one knew the ill-effects of drugs like cocaine or marijuana, or heroine – until someone you knew died.
9. When gas went from 35 cents to 40 cents in the 1970’s and we complained about inflation. It was called the Oil Crisis.
10. Three astronauts died in Apollo 1 but it wasn’t that big of news - America was more interested in the visit of the Beattles that year while Grissom and the others were buried with forgettable fanfare.
11. Flip Wilson cross-dressed – and America thought it was humor – the devil got the credit.

Okay so my mood – well – hmmm - my mood needs to change! I guess I need to stop this nonsense and get out my Psalms, take a ride in the sunshine, watch Julie and Julia again, or read the comic strips on the paper. I know – I will have chocolate….Mindy and Joe have me craving a certain chocolate bar!

The Christmas Rounds

2009-12-26T14:32:00.013-05:00

This was a banner year for our family. Somehow without realizing it completely all of my kids grew up and Christmas felt like it was going to be parceled out from home-to-home. Each couple wanted to spend Christmas morning in their own home rather than together at Christy’s home. They wanted to make their own family traditions and celebrate as their own family unit- Something we had taught them was important (but…but…but that was when they were little - without thinking what that would mean for ME when they all grew up!!)

We started out with the older two grandkids at Christy’s. We had our traditional breakfast specialties and did the Santa thing with delights and squeals that still sneak out of a 12 year old's mouth when he isn’t paying attention. Then it was off to the new adventure. We made our next stop at Jon’s and Sarah's. It was so delightful to open the door and be welcomed by the warm fresh smell of something very yummy coming from the kitchen. I suddenly was hungry again! We enjoyed special delights that Sarah created - a cheese and spinach and egg thing to die for! This I could do each year!!! We shared gifts and some hot chocolate by the fire. Huck, our newest granddog ,was learning the pleasures of Christmas at home and showed Grandma his toys. (Hey this isn't so bad after all - being the Christmas morning travelers.) Now I was excited to go to Joe’s and Mindy's. We missed seeing her parents by 20 minutes but the package in the swing was all the greeting I needed! Oh boy, the hints of future Christmases with the Joe B. family were all bundled in a bright-eyed 13 pound lumberjack. We girls wore our jamies and took some photos.

Driving home for Christmas nap I relished the morning seeing ourchildren plant, fertilize and water their blossoming homes. Then it also occurred to me that in about 4 hours they would ALL be at my house - the root from which their homes were crafted and grafted with another. We enjoyed sharing with each other at my house....something we had done on Christmas mornings before.

So here's to our new family tradition of Christmas - an all day event of sharing gifts and love. I got on my knees and thanked the Lord for our family - for the idea of putting humankind in families, for the idea of creating the hunger for love and the satisfaction of being full of it. I thought that is why Jesus was sent, God hungered for love so much that He allowed humankind to have a choice to love Him or not. For those that do, He visits them each in their own "home" (heart) and shares with them His own ultimate Christmas gift - so that all of us can eternally spent our celebrations with the family of God - if we only choose to. I choose to. Do you?

Here is our Christmas – I hope in photo order.

My Christmas Letter

2009-12-18T08:37:00.001-05:00

Most of this letter is somewhere in my blog in detail…but consider this recap an effort to make your reading “pleasure” more efficient. If you want to read further – go through the older posts! (smile!)

2009 has been a year of personal events, both joyous and sad. My father, fought the good fight but closed his eyes to be in the arms of Jesus on January 25, 2009. Our family gathered to mourn and remember. Dad would have loved the day as we all reminisced about his most discommodious (in the most lovable way) moments.

Mom has been a tower of strength and as she has made it through the year. Our entire family has grown closer. My three brothers have all made it here to visit and keep tabs on her by phone. They have been a tremendous support and I could not ask for better brothers and sisters-in-law. Mom and I have grown very close this year. I love spending time with her as we shop, go to church and just hang out. We have a Sunday morning ritual which includes church and then Bob Evans. Yum! Yum!

In March, Mom, my daughter Christy, her daughter Emma, and I took a road trip to Hot Springs, Arkansas, my high school home town. Never thought I would be able to drive so far but we had a blast. One of the greatest highlights was seeing my childhood friend Kathy as we stopped and ate and visited and enjoyed each other. Mom and her good friend Anne in Arkansas spent the week talking and catching up. I enjoyed taking Emma and Christy to my favorite spots – the Hot Springs promenade where the best water in the world gurgles right out of the ground; hot and ready to drink. Christy and I treated ourselves to a hot springs bath and massage. What fun.

Bill and I headed for Tennessee with two sets of friends to a Strategic Trends conference with Chuck Missler from www.khouse.org. It was held at Grace Chapel in Franklin Tennessee where a member of Chuck’s board is the preacher. Chuck has had a profound impact on our Christian walk and our faith has been enriched and fortified through our study of his teaching materials. We have enjoyed Grace Chapel’s Pastor Steve Berger and his teaching since then via streaming video on Sundays.

In August, Mom and I took a quick flight to Nebraska for her grandson’s wedding. My brother Jon did a fabulous job during the ceremony – and we enjoyed seeing Tessa, Leon and baby Natalie. Tessa and Jordan are Jon’s and Sue’s two children.

August brought another surprise. We were so excited to get the news that Bill and I were going to be grandparents again. Joe and Mindy shared their joy with us in early March. However, little Nolan showed up two months early and daily visits for all were very tiring as we kept the premie ward vigil. The ward nurses called him the premie with no problems and the doctor called him Mr. Happy. That he was! He went home earlier than expected with a heart monitor and two trembling parents. Joe bought his Chick-fil-A franchise and has had a successful first year. He needed it after Nolan’s entrance into the world!

No wonder he made it through like a trooper. Last night I babysat so Mommy could do some Christmas shopping and I see that little Nolan by nature, is a boy with a mission. That mission is “I can be a big boy!” He is very proud to stand up and thinks everything is funny. He smiles a crooked little smile and a cute little chuckle sends his hand waving in the air while he pushes his chubby little legs to a tall stand. He is definitely Grandma’s boy. Our wonderful Christmas present is he is free from the heart monitor this week.

Christy has found a new love this year – photography. She has been taking piano lessons this year and has hooked up with a talented and lovely heart friend! She is now teaching some piano as well as taking a photography class at my college. Her talents seem unending. My goodness where does she get it? She continues to knit – everywhere, all the time. Chris has been her stable steady guy – and has been quite the gardener. They have harvested a variety of goodies – including sweet potatoes which we all enjoyed for Thanksgiving.

Andrew, who has joined everything at his school, is in Jazz and Symphonic band. He auditioned and won a spot in the All-county band with his euphonium. He loves his music and is taking piano too. He is President of the Technology club and entered some projects in the state technology competition. He won honorable mention. He went to USF’s gifted children’s technology program this summer and he and Dad slept under the space shuttle at Cape Canaveral.

Emma is taking flute and recorder lessons and sings in a little choir. She also is taking piano. She played a duet at church recently which is a lot for a shy little artist. She took a few art lessons this summer and is continuing to enjoy all sorts of medium. She is a top reader and speller. She won her class’s spelling bee. She went to her first concert this year with a friend. The two mom’s took the girls to see Mylie Cyrus.

Jon and Sarah have spent the year totally remodeling their new home which is enviously large. Sarah is in her fourth year as a computer consultant and continues to travel. She is the best of the best at this job and the company is glad to have her. Jon’s band made the big announcement that they are doing their final farewell tour in spring 2010. Jon is doing some soul-searching, looking for opportunities and a new direction for himself. So – they got a dog. Not just any dog – but a Great Dane. His name is Huckleberry – Huck for short. His name is the only short thing about him. This loveable, loose-skinned critter has brought a lot of joy into the Jon Bucklew household.

Bill and I went to Coeur D’Alene, Idaho for the Koinonia House Strategic Trends Conference for the second year. Taking the master-level courses has given us both a most fulfilling hobby. Bill is talking about his advanced degree…. But not me – I just want to take the classes and enjoy without the degree pressure.

Bill’ continues to work for the school board and I am enjoying my job as Registrar at the college. It has been a fulfilling work year and I am enjoying strong work relationships and success in projects that I have enjoyed.

Two amazing Christmas facts to leave with you today:
1. By tracking Zachariah’s priestly duty time and John the Baptist’s birth, it is relatively easy to determine that Jesus was born around the end of September. (This means he was probably conceived around Christmas so don’t let that deflate your celebration!)
2. The Magi who visited Jesus as a toddler to give homage to the King of the Jews, probably followed teaching that was passed down from Daniel – the famed prophet of the Old Testament and lion’s den. In fact, the gifts brought to him were likely treasures reserved for him by the Magi from Daniel’s treasures. Daniel was made chief of the magi.

Christmas Cards

2009-12-13T08:13:00.006-05:00

Send or not to send. That is my question.

Used to be one of my favorite things to do. I sent everyone a Christmas card and loved sitting
down writing little life's details in each with personal connection notes. That was in the mid 70's. Cards had become so sophisticated. You need a Christian card for Aunt Ruth, a non-Santa card for cousin Sharon as she doesn't believe in it, a Christmas sympathy card for great Aunt Nell because she commerates the loss of Uncle Herlich every Christmas, a Kwanzaa card for your co-worker, and a Hanukah card for the mailman so he doesn't forget to close your mailbox again!

Then somewhere along the way, the Christmas letter caught on. I enjoyed reading about everyone's lives. Mine seemed so - so - unaccomplished - no awards for community service, no kids earning scholarships to Yale, no pets winning the county dog show, no sewing, knitting, crafting, tolling, painting projects to display, and no sports awards, or mini-marathons run.

So through the year, I kept a list. Oh, here is a good one for the Christmas letter. There were quite a few times it was more like - shewww! Sure not putting THAT in the Christmas letter. You could even buy special Christmas letter stationary from Staples to make a beautiful card-like Christmas letter. Then again you can even PRINT a card you designed yourself by buying card stock and lots of expensive colored ink.

Then as time progressed there was a short-lived stent of Christmas emails but relatives complained that it was not personal so we quickly moved to those annoying little computerized musical cards that play Fur Elise over- and- over - and over- and over. Some became quite sophisticated with snow, and Santa going down the chimney or wise men walking in with camels. Some were quite clever - the Hallmark card of the Internet like those from http://www.bluemountain.com/.

Next we have Christmas tweets and wall notes on Facebook. Christmas blogs - I like it - a Christmas blog! That way - only the people who WANT to read your stupid year's round-up can do so.

KEEP A WATCH - CHRISTMAS BLOG COMING!!! Merry Christmas.

Rethinking

2009-11-08T16:42:00.004-05:00

I am rethinking my life. I may not blogging for a while. I want to do something meaningful to others and I don't think blogging is it. Will decided during the holidays. I think the only ones who read this meaningless dribble are my dear daughter and sassy sister-in-law. That's because they are love me and not because there is meaning in what I write.....

Coeur D'Alene Idaho

2009-10-26T11:40:00.009-04:00

Last year we went to Coeur D'Alene to check out the Koinonia House and Study Center. Could Chuck Missler be for real? His perspective on the Bible from an Information Technology bent, with historical and intellectual study yet taking the Bible seriously and believing in its complete inerrency. Bill and I have been taking classes for a year. We are so sold on this great ministry. We are both commited now to be involved.

The best part is meeting students from all over the world taking the same classes you take. You know these people without prejudices that in-person relationships must overcome. We stayed with my online friend and her lovely mother. It was the best part of my trip - to meet her - to share in person with her and to be blessed with a place to stay and wonderful food and hospitality that I thought only grew in the Deep South. In addition was another couple we had connected with through classes who grew to be even more enjoyable - real heart friends. The conference was good but the fellowship was divine.

I must confess I seldom feel committed to anything. When I move, I don't try that hard to keep in contact - with a few rare exceptions. Not that I don't care about others - I do. I just find staying connected requires a discipline I don't have. I think I am ready now to commit - not only to a ministry but to friends.
Here is CindyO and me. She signs her emails CindyO - I love it. I love her dogs. I love her servant heart. I love her beautiful smile. I love her commitment to the Lord. Here she is! With 87-year old Betty who cooked and hosted us.

Idaho is amazingly beautiful. There were deer in the front yards, reaching to eat the buds from the trees. Not just one or two - a half dozen or so. While taking a boat tour of the glazier-created lake, we saw two American Eagles take flight across the mountain crest. It made me cry to watch them - I had a sudden sense that with their flight toward the clouds and out of sight, my liberty and freedoms in this United States are disappearing. I grieved for all of us - for my grandchildren who will not know what it means to shrug your shoulders and laugh and say "Only in America!", for my grandparents that had so many hopes for the future in this country - my great grandparents leaving Germany to find liberty within the welcoming borders of the United States. I must cling to my King - I must know the Kingdom of God - because it shall be the home of my loyalties.

This turns me back to Chuck Missler and K-house ministries. Yes, the time is right for me to commit!

Never thought I would say It......

2009-10-12T20:29:00.004-04:00

But I am ready for some real fall. I want to be cold. I don't like the record heat in October. July - I can take it - but October? I bought some fall clothes - too hot to wear them. Too hot to try them on.

You know what else ? I never thought I would say it but - but I like this dumb show called "Say Yes To The Dress" - me - watching wedding dress buyers trying to find the perfect dress to make their weddings more special than everyone else's wedding. Trying to make themselves more beautiful than the bride of their own dreams. YUCK!!! GIRL STUFF - What is happening to me?

I never thought I would say it but - I don't really want to exercise - I don't. I find every excuse I have laughed at when others say them in the past. Perhaps I am saving all my energies for work??? who knows - I used to live to exercise - it showed - now I look just like my exercise attitude. But I do love 'The Biggest Loser" .

You know I wonder what you never thought you would say - and find yourself saying it. Not much of a post but I never thought I would be a blogger either.

The Lights Went Out

2009-09-25T07:19:00.002-04:00

So…the lights went out and we were in the dark. With a puff and a pop and a flash of light, a typical 9:00 p.m. instantly became an eerie darkened world. Was it an EMP attack? A dirty bomb? A drunk driver crashing into the main switch – yes this seemed more likely.

Funny how such incidents bring the neighbors to the streets – especially the men. We, who relish in our independent and rebellious ways – the monarchy of the Bucklew clan - are no exception it is sad to say. Once we found our flashlights and lit a candle or two so we could find our way, Bill and I handled the situation completely differently but we both ended up in the streets with the rest of the neighbors.

Bill
Out to the streets he goes - with his special flashlights – one in each hand and one in his pocket. The men bring their beer – Bill felt somehow less – he didn’t have one. They talk about all the possibilities that caused it and recall the many other incidents that pulled them out of their caves to the streets. They size each other up to determine who can help who and who is a weenie. They talked about their tools and what they could do if the electricity doesn’t come back on. The plan was forming.

Kathy
I decided I might as well hit the bed – since I cannot be productive. But on the way I am telling Bill – who is already outside unbeknownst to me, my thoughts about pioneer days and Bible days when there were no lights. “I suppose they slept earlier and rose earlier to make the most use of the sunlight” I said. “I wonder if you get used to not seeing much at night – I mean, I don’t suppose you could read all that well or sew, - I wonder how the evenings were passed – perhaps looking at stars.” “Bill? Bill? BI--L--L!!” So I put my britches back on and the hat with the light on it and went looking for my caveman.

The ladies were venturing out of their houses and they quickly joined the conversation. What were you doing when the lights went out? We told everyone all the things we were not going to get finished. A movie – A shower - The dishes – “Thank goodness the kids were sleeping,” said one neighbor. Well – the Electric Department showed up outside the neighborhood. So the party was over. We said our good-byes knowing that next time – be it a few months or a year we would meet again – same time – same station.

Time Trolls

2009-09-13T10:07:00.004-04:00

Last weekend – or was it two weekends ago……………………..? With baby Nolan in the NICU whom I adore seeing daily and activities with kids, grandkids, dogs, and work, I am now convinced that time is not a constant. Like a sly little troll with a devious bent, it speeds up at the most inconvenient times– mocking you with sinister sniggers and snorts. I feel like a gerbil running in a wheel that some prankster whirled around – just for laughs. It feels like a Groundhog Day………never mind…… back to the story…….
Last weekend – or was it two weekends ago, my daughter and granddaughter and I went for tea with the most delightful work friend and her sweet little girl. We enjoyed getting to know each other under the twinkling candlelight as the sun set across Lake Wire playing patty-cake with the candles in the window. We all dressed up – Emma wore gloves. I love her delightful and fanciful ways. Her new little friend brought and shared her teapot set she had gotten for her birthday. Zohra’s Restaurant in Lakeland served us the best dinner and dessert. They were fabulous to us and I look forward to going there again.
I am doing an experiment with my clothes. Very interesting – it is expanding my persona. I have decided I will not re-wear anything until I have worn everything I have in my closet (save seasonally inappropriate clothing). I have gone three weeks now. I am wearing the clothes I bought and don’t like, the clothes I don’t wear because they are wearing out, the clothes I love and usually wear once a week, the clothes I bought that do not match anything. I then evaluate how I feel in the clothes. By the end of the day, if I think I would wear it again – it gets relegated to the re-wear side of the closet – of course in the proper order of wear. If I don’t like how I felt in it – out it goes to the give-away pile. One problem with this experiment for which I must caution you on should you care to try it; DON’T wear all your favorite clothes first – because it is a long time before you get back ‘round to them!

And the End of August

2009-09-05T07:52:00.004-04:00

Most of you who would even venture to this blog already know that Monday August 31 brought the dramatic entrance of Nolan James into this world mearly 9 weeks early at 3 lbs and 9 ozs and 17 inches long. We have been to the hospital every day and last night had our first opportunity to touch him. It was overwhelming - and my gratitutde to God for the miracles it took to perserve his life poured out of me like an offering of praise.

I am so proud of Mommy and Daddy - Joe and Mindy. They have been strong, and sacrificing and are doing everything they know how to do to give Nolan the best. Mindy is doing well, I am so proud of her. She is walking and regaining her strength - fighting the pain of the C-section.

I will write more another time but here is my darling, God's gift to the world.

August Weekends

2009-08-30T00:23:00.006-04:00

Busy weekends. I have had an interesting August. That’s a good thing because most of my life is not all that interesting. Each weekend was filled with unique joys. Here is a little summary of August.

Kings. What a beautiful crop of kids. We hung out with the most huggable, energetic, funny and entertaining kids for a weekend. Young Pastor and wife whom we have grown to love, moved to Wisconsin and we had them at our house so they could pack theirs without having 4 kids around under 6. under foot. Bill and I dedicated our weekend to just giving them a good time. I loved it, planned kiddie foods, swimming, movies, a nature hike.
We walked around the neighborhood looking for trucks. By the fourth one, we heard, “Wow! We saw a thousand trucks!” In the pool, the favorite words were “Do it again! Do it again!” (Motorboat, motorboat go so slow. Motorboat motor boat go so fast. Motorboat motorboat Step on the gas! And…around they flew through the water with squeals and splashes.)

Brother Kenny, For the first time ever, my brother Kenny spent a birthday with us. I couldn’t wait for him to come because I bought a special gift while I was in Hot Springs, Arkansas this spring, our hometown. Kenny had worked at Dryden Pottery as a high school kid. He worked with many of the glasses, and cups and bowls created by Mr. Dryden using our fathers glaze formulas. Many years later and many styles and designs beyond, the pottery pieces are now well-known collectables. I purchased a set of glasses and cups from the 1968-70 era, sold as antiques in the Dryden shop. Kenny probably glazed them, or fired them or
packaged them when they were new. What fun to give him a piece of his own history.

Wedding -Nephew Jordan – My mom and I took a flight to Nebraska for my nephew’s wedding. Which I already shared.

Max – My grand-dog. And grand he is – all 120 pounds of him. Our son and wife took a little vacation and we took the dog. He is Grandma’s boy. Scared to death of Ebbie the 20 pound mini Schnauzer. He has the softest ears of anything I have ever touched, softer than a horse’s shnoz.

Anna-May The foal I dream about. My sweet young Nadara – longtime friend, took me to see her foal today. Anna-May is almost 4 months old. She is so smart and mischievous. Her mama got her first ride since Anna-May was born. What fun. I want the dang horse now. Really – really want her!

And now - what will September bring??
.

She Danced

2009-08-15T23:13:00.002-04:00

She danced! Cane and all. It was worth the trip. In the midst of the busiest week a registrar can have (last day of fall registration), I took a day and flew with my 84-year-old mother to the wedding of my most affable nephew, Jordan and his beautiful bride, Melissa.

My mother was looking so forward to this one. Her last grandchild to get married. Melissa had been to Florida and mother loved her - as we all did. Not only that, we had the privilege of seeing Leon, the husband of Jordan's sister, Tessa. Leon is a war hero in our book and Tessa is a brave and good mom of precious Natalie.

Family is fun - and the celebration was great. I didn't know anyone but my few family, but I enjoyed their joy. I also enjoyed my dress. I bought a dress - probably my most favorite dress in years. Very plain and simple but I loved my dress. No one said it looked pretty or anything - but I didn't need it -because I love it! I bought for one reason only -

I wore my soft and striking cashmere wrap that my most talented daughter made me and the dress made the wrap look perfectly perfect!

But the best of the best, is Mom enjoyed herself. As we left, she walked right out in the middle of all the dancing 20-year-olds and did a little jig with her grandson. He was delighted and it made it all worth while!! Can I just say AHHHH!

Memory List

2009-08-02T08:36:00.003-04:00

Something I heard – sss-whir-r-r-………s-s-s-swhir-r-r-r….a fan blowing as I lay down to nap –not because I am tired but because I am sick…It sent me to a crevice in my mind where memories are stored. Memories of things that sum up the times of my life. So I have decided to make a list of things I remember as a child. Go ahead – make your own list. Those crevices are covered over most of the time and you might not be able to pull it out again later.
1. I remember bazooka gum had a joke in the wrapper. I used to collect them.
2. I remember riding in the 1950 something station wagon with the back window down. We hopped back and forth across the back seat. There were no seatbelts
3. I remember the hot evenings in the heart of the Mississippi delta. The bed felt damp when you crawled in. The attic fan pulled the stale air out of the attic and the damp night air across my bed. I remember waking up in the morning with salty sticky sweat across the back of my hairline.
4. I remember getting a colored TV because the Texas Longhorns were playing in a bowl game.
5. I remember Simmons drug store and the wooden floors that creaked and clicked under my mother’s heels. The druggist sat high – behind a tall counter that made him look like a judge in a white coat.
6. I ran through the mosquito spray as the truck slowly sprayed the neighborhoods to rid the city of its most popular resident. It was like a cloud of poison that spread through yards. We chased the truck for blocks giggling with delight as we ran into each other in the fog.
7. I remember the floods – our neighbor used a row boat in the street when the floods came.
8. I remember walking the two miles to the pasture where my horse was kept. The tar in the road made impressions of my feet.
9. I remember when John F. Kennedy was shot. I was in Science class.
10. I remember when there were race riots. My mother came and got us from the movie theater. Danger was there – in our own town. None of it made sense to me.
11. I remember getting a packet of sunflowers at the movie theater when we saw the The Day of the Triffods.
12. I remember watching Elvis on the Ed Sullivan show. I remember the first time the Beatles were on the show too.
13. I got a poodle skirt and a crunch slip in the fourth grade. Unlike most girlie things, I liked wearing them.
14. I got the mumps. What in the world are the mumps and who named them?
15. I used to love chocola. It was a chocolate soda that puts Yahoo to shame. I loved Fizzies too.
16. I couldn’t wait for National Geographic to come each month. The stories of worlds beyond seemed a fantasy to me.
17. I used to think Troy Donahue was “keen”.
18. I remember wearing pedal pushers and learning the bop and practicing the hula-hoop.
19. I loved baseball – especially the New York Yankees. I collected trading cards even though I didn’t like the gum so much.
20. I loved my Davy Crockett hat. I used to listen to the Davy Crockett record and sing along while pretending to be going through the woods hunting bears in the living room. “Davy – Davy Crockett – King of the Wild Frontier!”
21. I had paper dolls, and paint by number kits, and a Lie Detector game, and a Chatty Cathy doll.

Well - now I could just keep going because there are TV shows like Superman and Dick Clark, and there were foods like Salmon patties every Friday at school, and 6 cent cokes, and there were sounds, like baseball games on the radio, and hi-fi's, but what do you remember about the times of your childhood?

Sharing Poetry

2009-07-25T08:59:00.008-04:00

I don't always like to read poetry unless I read about it first - but I do write poetry once in a while. I re-read it a year so later and decide if it makes sense. If it does - I call it good and if it doesn't I wait a few more years and try again. If the second time it reads dumb or poorly written or meaningless - I toss it. Once in a while I have a keeper that each time I read it - the application or nuances increase in value to me - so I declare it good.

Here is one of my favorites - because I use the imagery of one of my favorite things. It has many applications - personal awareness, temptations of infidelity, the loss of your young daughter to adulthood and how it feels to you, or just what you see is what you get - protecting your beautiful pet from the change that happens once the horse has had the opportunity to foal. When that happens, the mare may not returns to that sense of freedom and innocent passion for the wind and the ride and for that fear you want to protect her. Hope you like it too.

THE FOAL

My foal promenades the corral,
And like a sail in a hurricane her mane whips the wind.
The passion in her eyes belies her lighthearted prance.
Her beauty, her innocence I must defend.

From the stable I beckon her "Come!"
Sweet oats to assuage her; she halts. She quivers her flank.
What beckons her beyond my gates of harbor and home?
"She's going to leap." My heart sank!

When did I lose her? No time for assessments,
She knows not what lies in the mirage of ecstasy she senses.
Have I not endowed her with abundant provision?
My boundaries her security, seem now only fences.

"Steady Girl!" My warning scatters under hoofs;
With a virgin lunge she chases the whinnies of the wind beyond.
Unbridled, untamed, naïve - and I unprepared
For the pain of forever reaving our bond.

A lasso, a sugar, a ruse I will plan.
Before tempest’s lusty stallion seduces her virtue
And salacity awakened she gallops like a gale.
Finally I grasped her tho' she restively withdrew.

I reassure her with whispers through the gates.
She neighs a shudder and cantors away, tenuous, her fidelity.
I must keep constant watch for now her eyes will be
Always on the wind that whinnies temptingly!

Thomas Edison's Guests

2009-07-11T13:08:00.007-04:00

Thomas Edison gained about 1100 patents on products he invented! We learned a bellyful of such facts about Tom and his good friend Henry Ford on Friday. What a great vacation day. We got the idea a few years ago from Channel 8 News to do a Florida road trip on a tank-full (of gas)with the grandkids.

We have had some adventures – to see the Lippizaners, to the ride the steam engine, to see Solomon’s junk castle and more. We took off to Ft Myers on Friday.

We learned how deep inflation has affected our lives when we realized that Thomas Edison bought his 13 acres of coastal paradise for $20,000. – with a house on it! Of course that was almost 100 years ago – and wages were $1.00 -$5.00 per day so guess you need to put it into perspective.
The sky was cloudy most of the day and it only got hot near the end. Then the thundering rain shower rushed us to the car for a cool and sleepy drive home. I was most impressed with my 8 and 12 year on grandkids who did indeed soak it in. Andrew was impressed with the Model T and 1937 roadster, the movie projectors, and the number of times Edison failed before making the light bulb work.

Emma was impressed with the first talking doll that you crank up in the back. We learned that if she was dropped – the talker broke because she was so fragile. She was astonished to hear that upon her market failure, they buried all the dolls in a big hole near the factory where they likely rest to this day. She wants to know where that factory is.

Bill and I were amazed at the opulent lifestyle of the wealthy – even in the early 1900’s – and knowing the anti-Semitic sentiment both Edison and especially Ford maintain, supporting Hitler’s rise to power, and the cruel task mastery of their sweatshops made quips about their generosity or character slightly distasteful.

Edison did a great deal of research in rubber. Supported by many, including Harvey Firestone. No joke! Thus his very large banyon tree – second largest in America only to one in Hawaii.
The kids enjoyed the individual guided tour on little ear pieces. You dialed the number on the phone of the spot you were in and got a 45-90 second little talk about it. Emma enjoyed the kitchen and guest room. Andrew the library and

the lab.

Memorable Day

2009-07-04T23:35:00.004-04:00

What makes a day memorable? Something phenomenal? Extraordinary? Unexpected? How about something ordinary? Like an ordinary July 4th. That’s the memorable day we had today It was hot and in the sticky rush to finish household and outdoor chores, the yard got mowed, the lanai swept, the groceries purchased and then the rain came.
We spent some time scratching our heads and looking for yet another solution for the doggies. Jack has learned to jump over the 4 ½ foot fencing we have set up in our bedroom to give the dogs a nice-sized pen. Last month he learned to push the fence to the side and get out. We had to add zip ties to tie the fence to the bedroom desk. Now he jumps right over the top of the pen… Ebbie, our mini schnauzer is always glad to follow Jack’s example…but she can’t jump - thankfully. So we now have a fenced- top.

We grilled out burgers and my youngest son and his wife came - they are carrying baby Nolan who is our grandson yet-to-be born. Christy and her hubby and two kids came so we had a quite the affair. We play Balderdash – and laughed and had hot home-made biscuits with strawberries and whipping cream.

We wore American flags and USA stickers, and sipped all-American cola through decorated red and blue straws . We wore glow-in-the-dark necklaces and watched the boys grow chest hair for an hour and a half – lighting June Bugs, Flaming Rockets, Star Dust, and the Big Rebel. A great 4th of July fireworks show.

We had watermelon smoothies, took photos, watched the history channel special on the Revolution and watched Emma dance to Hot Buttered Popcorn. A memorable day just because……

Fatherless on Father's Day

2009-06-21T13:32:00.009-04:00

In Genesis 48-50 Jacob, the father of 12 men, blesses his children before he is gathered to his own fathers. He speaks over them the history of the world – his blessings, his curses, his cautions, his favoritism - and the words are so powerful that they shaped the future of mankind - a father’s words. In Deuteronomy 26 and 27 God makes provision for the fatherless a law to be obeyed; being fatherless was a handicap requiring an entire community to underwrite. Later in Deuteronomy 32, it is made clear to us that God is our Father – our creator. The two words go hand-in-hand.

In Psalm 103:13 and Matt 18:4 God ascribes to himself the compassion of a father and in Prov 3:12 the discipline of a father and in Luke 15 the forgiveness of a father. There is so much more. Bottom line, fathering is essential to understanding who God is.

Today on Father’s Day, my first without my Father, I remember lessons he taught me. He taught me to love God above all else, to care about the least of humans, to find humor in everything, to value family, to be responsible as a servant, to stay healthy, to be a sacrificing grandparent, to be present in the lives of my family for important occassions, that you are never too old to have fun, that doing something outrageous is okay, and that to die is gain Dad, pretend you just climbed Mt. Everest.

Let's get a good look at you Emma!

Proud of his daugther graduating- no matter how old she is.

Buddies forever with Great Grandpa.

Blessing Emma at her Baptism

Never too young to start exercising.

It's hard to say good-bye to Grandpa and Grandma

This is why it is hard to say good-bye!

Writing secret notes to Grandpa - and her daughter did the same.

Big Brother

2009-06-06T20:17:00.005-04:00

When we were toddlers, people thought we were twins; my older brother and I. We were buddies. Or so our parents would tell us. We were the Saturday night live of 1952. I would throw a toy out of the playpen and Bob would run and fetch it, being silly, rolling on the floor or jumping wildly while I laughed and laughed at him. He threw the toy back in the playpen just to have me throw it out.
Big brothers play a special role. I guess that is why I always think the boy should be born first - to protect little sister - to blaze the trail and clear the path for her to promenade through childhood. We had some good childhood times - like running through the horse pasture trying not to get bit, burning down an oil field across the street from our home, painting the neighbor's garage red, making fig mud pies and trying to get baby brother to eat them, sneaking out the window and dropping a typewriter on the head - Bob was in the emergency room with that one. Rolling into the street in a big cardboard barrel- and all that before the age of 5!!!
God had His hand on us alright. Somebody had to have a hand on us. We were wild little comanches, cowboy hats, my Annie Oakley gun set, boots and vest. Mom had a lot of faith in our Lassie of a dog - a half-breed named Tippy. There were many other venturous escapades but we survived to adulthood.
I love getting family together when Bob comes. He has the ability to laugh at just about everything in life. Nothing escapes his sapient eye! And no one is immune to his infectious humor. My sons must have inherited some of the wit. We can laugh and laugh at just about nothing! ......and everything. We remember the things that made us laugh as kids, young parents with our own kids, young grandparents - and I suppose someday we will laugh at aging - or wheelchairs or senior diapers.
Life has been a bit tough for him, but oh, Lord! May I always find the humor in life - despite where I have been, what I am in, or what I am facing - just like my big brother. Here we are. Do we look like twins now??

My! How Flies Time

2009-05-31T08:46:00.006-04:00

People say time flies - I think flies time! Have you ever looked at a fly closely? He's quite the cute-ugly little creature, ever busy stimulating his little nose with two of his thready looking little appendages. Their timing is impeccable. As soon as you set out a fresh plate of fruit to eat, they suddenly appear skipping across it, leaving little microcosmic trails of nasty residue that we eat anyway. You seldom see them sneak in with their stealth dives - only after they have had their bellies full and are too heavy to do their "disappearing" act. Then you swoosh them away and with speed at about 2 miles an hour faster than your hand, or your newspaper, or your swatter, they continually tease you.

I sometimes think they sit on the wall chuckling and say, "Watch this, Vern!" In fact their ability to evade the swat of death is indelibly memorialized in fable history by Disney's the Brave Little Taylor who got seven in one blow.

The first horror movies used flies. They enlarged the screenshots so they looked like alien monsters eating triphods. Well here is my ode to flies:

Who flies by but the fast little fly?
Fluttering fancifully, without catching my eye.
Foraging my table he favors my pear .
Swat! Phlat! - I fail flattening him each time I try.
With a fidget and flit he's off - vanishing in air!

It's Over!

2009-05-16T08:07:00.004-04:00

It's over! Yeah! Better Body Beat up your Booty Boot Camp! Now I have no one to answer to for weight losss and exercise. I don't know if that is good or bad. Good...I think...because now I have to answer to myself...the hardest task master of all. I probably won't do situps and pushups but I will keep going because I have had some success. I still feel like a loser - and I don't mean weight loser because I could not keep up with the exercises. I finished at home rather than keep going because my past injuries interfered with keeping up. Well - now I have a another goal. I have some nice summer clothes that are two sizes smaller than I am now - so I am on a roll.

Speaking of rolls.... I love buttery tasty croissants and fresh from the oven potato rolls - especially from Publixs - and biscuits - though they aren't even really rolls and I love sweet rolls especuially cinnamon...and there I go again.

Well my clothing heaps are bound to have another pile. That's the put away until next weight gain pile. But the good news is I get to open the box of put away until I LOSE weight pile!

Work is crazy for me right now....so my blogging days are rare and few.

Life Lessons in Clothing Heaps

2009-04-25T20:53:00.000-04:00

I looked in my closet a couple of days ago for something dashing, unique, highly professional, and edgie to wear. Of course it had to make me look 10 pounds thinner and 10 years younger. The deeper I went the more dismayed I became. I looked around my clothing heaps and came to some philosophical conclusions about myself. I did find something to wear – but by 9:00 AM I was wondering how I could escape and buy a new outfit before anyone else sees me….

Lesson #1 – Don’t wear your depression. It’s too depressing.
I have a large heap of too-big clothing, mostly dark and drab. It helps me hide when I feel guilty, unworthy, like a failure or I let someone down that I highly respect…such as the boss, or the daughter, or the hubby or the….well all of them. So I wear my frumpiness because it helps me maintain my attitude. You see, I am generally a cheerful person and holding on to depression or a grudge takes a LOT of effort for me. Clothes do help – but eventually my logical side wins and off they go to the back of the closet.

Lesson #2 – Discipline takes more than a little black dress waiting for me to fit into it.
My favorite heap is all the clothes I’m gonna wear! They are colorful and perfect fitting (on somebody about one size smaller than I). They all have their tags. My brain knows better than to be derailed from its eating interests for a cheap trick like a little black dress – but my emotional buying side keeps trying. I have been disciplining myself a little better these days….but it take a lot of work and definitely prayer. (You know – better body beat up my booty campy-d-camp)

Lesson #3 – Planning is important in all aspects of life
My second favorite heap is my unplanned buying pile. It is a bunch of good buys and nice fits that don’t match each other. Somehow none of them go together and they were all such a good buy I hate to spend money on something that matches because then the good buy part is lost! I pick one out now and then and try it with this or that. I can always tell when I fail. I walk into work and everyone gives me the once over but politely says nothing…except Jen – she is as honest as they come. God bless that one!

Lesson # 4- There is value in the same-old.
My last heap (worth mentioning) is the same-old stuff I wear every week. I have no fancy jewelry or matching shoes! Oh my goodness! Shoes…that is another disaster for me. My daughter has tons of shoes…she probably wouldn’t have picked many of them but they have all lied to me in the store – saying, “Pick me! I am easy to wear; I match everything and I am comfortable too!” I don’t keep liars in my closet! Back to the clothes heap….. once in a while in a shopping moment you make music with your selection. You wear it week after week and know that if nothing else will do you can always wear it. Some of these are all worn out – but you hide the stain, safety pin the rip and hope nobody notices the fading because you just like the same-old outfit. There is comfort in knowing an outfit well – how it behaves in public, in the cold, in the rain, when you are hot and sweaty, when the wind blows.

So, what do your clothes tell you? What have you learned?

Better Beat your Body Boot Campy

2009-04-16T17:56:00.004-04:00

So I promised to complete my saga on the boot camp. I have lost a few pounds and a whole lot of face! I walked out because I could not do the exercises. It is true I have injuries and impingements to health - like a serious inflammation disease...but I still feel like I copped out.

So what do I do? I go pay the muscle monkey to beat me up one-on-one at the Fitness center. How stupid is that? Now there is no hiding in numbers and pretending to do all those bicep curls...I have to do each and every one of them because he is standing there counting.

I kept asking myself - why? why? would I do this stupid thing? Then it occurred to me. I ate so much face being a quitter that I swallowed my brains and have none left. I plan to finish up with the group the last week of this Boot Camp. And I think I am going to "show 'em!!"

So - tomorrow I go back for my own personal beating. I think I need prayer.

Here - have a flower. I like my flower.

Like Rain

2009-04-02T21:04:00.012-04:00

The expert memory maker

Memories are like rain. We saw a lot of rain on our Arkansas trip.

Mostly while driving. I saw too much of the butt end of a windshield wiper blade.

But memories are like rain.
It starts with droplets one by one, clearly landing - distinguishable , separate; faster and faster they pellet until you cannot see today at all.

Then swoosh – the intermittent wiper action clears the path and today

comes into focus once again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes you wonder why it takes so long when someone is so important to you.

Where do you sit after a long afternoon of water skiing...on the stone wall of course!

What do you see when you are sitting on the stone wall?

The Lake I lived on or should say in all summer 1966-1970

Where my brother worked, my father shared his ceramic brilliance by creating glazes,

and where I remember special one-of-a-kind collectable pottery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Memories are like rain.

They clear the air of all the dust and pollen so the world around you is brighter, greener, fresher. They come like a flood then trickle to an end as today

bursts forth rallying the senses to come into the moment and enjoy it’s newness. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I cleaned cabins at Knollwood Lodge when I was 16 and 17. Here is one cabin, the one we had - untouched by remodeling-a timecapsule of memories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Memories are like rain. They soak the dryness, steam the pavement,

and plump the landscape of all that happens today.

They make provision for tomorrow like the buds of today that are tomorrow’s flowers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The greatest joy of my teen years was centered around my horse, thoroughbred racers, and the early mornings at the track.

Lookout Point - where you make-out with your boyfriend or make-up your

dreams of the future, overlooking Hot Springs from West Mountain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Memories are like rain.

Sometimes they come like a surprise shower in the middle of a sunny day.

Sometimes there are signs that gradually awaken you to a coming cloudburst

like birds taking shelter in their nests,

or a change in the wind or the sudden shadowing of the sun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A fresh drink of water from heaven. First place I hit in town after a semester away at college.

So that’s what the trip was about for me. Memories for my mother to share with her friend, memories for me to share with my daughter and memories for my daughter to make with her daughter. We made as many memories as I recalled. Check out Christy’s blog for a day-by-day. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Mom and Anne Kastner - friends for 40 years.

Making memories as Emma walks with G-ma to Anne's cabin.

Making memories with Grandma on West Mountain overlooking the whole city.

On the Road

2009-03-29T22:47:00.006-04:00

There are so many songs that describe the feeling of the open road…..that sense of pulling away from all that is routine …the freedom of the road…the stuff that movies are made of…. Like Thelma and Louise, and – and – well all the other movies about road trips.
Some crazy lady who doesn’t like to drive came up with this idea to take a 4-generation road trip – going 2000 miles roundtrip. Okay – the crazy lady was me. Okay I like to drive sometimes, but I am just not very good at it- if my accident record were a rap sheet I’d be serving consecutive life sentences.

So, with girl books on CD in tow, at least one suitcase per girl, and everyone’s car comfort bag, we took off. By the fifth hour, just passing Gainesville, a 150 mile trip from our Lakeland home, and after ditching the first CD book on chapter 3 we needed a pick-me- up. Steak dinner.

Things got worse. Arriving at the wrong hotel at 1:30 in the morning I was not about to take any lip from the Hampton Inn clerk. The front door was locked and not a soul around. I rang the night bell three times, politely waiting 10 seconds between each buzz. Finally I called the guy on the phone. He had the nerve to tell me he was standing at the front desk and didn’t see me by the door. I promptly and assertively told him, “You are NOT at the front desk and therefore you CAN’T see me at your front door.” With ever grit of customer service he could impersonate, “I’m walking outside right now, can you see me?” Exasperated, “Listen, buddy, you are NOT walking outside and I DO NOT see you.”

“Ma’am, what was the exit number you took?”
“77 – just like mapquest told me to take.”
“We are exit 57.”
“57?”
“57.”
“I just came from 57.”
Yes Ma’am.”

The next morning, with threat of thunderstorms and tornados on 5 hours of sleep, we cheerfully headed across Alabama to visit my longest standing friend in life – Kathy. Her home and smile were respite enough and with bellies full of home-cooked brunchie we drove through the years and cobwebs of my mind – right into my high school hometown – Hot Springs, Arkansas.

As we rolled around the corner to Knollwood Lodge, the faint rhythms of “Sittin’ on the Dock of the Bay” greeted my memory and all my senses floated back to July 1969 and a bikini summer sun and the slap of Lake Hamilton across the slats of the old wooden dock floating amid the waves as the speed boats passed by. We walked into the cabin and cozied under warm quilts and I fancied dreams of yesterday. (Yes it reminds me of the song!)

We rose to a chilly Sunday morning and seized the day! Off to the races. Took my daughter and granddaughter to Oaklawn race track – where I hot-walked the horses every racing season. Rising in the dew-drenched twilight of the morning to enjoy the smells of hay and damp dirt and the touch of velvet nestling nostrils was one of my greatest joys. A thoroughbred is like a royal - an aristocrat. They are powerful muscular creatures of virtue and rare beauty. – one that turns heads and mists the eyes. Being in their inner circle – knowing each by name, by personality, by forte is a privilege peculiar and extraordinary. One I loved above all else in my youth.

We walked the promenade behind bathhouse row, the historic claim to Hot Springs for nearly 2 centuries. (Of much grander stature than the claim of Bill Clinton’s hometown!) We drank from the hot springs bubbling and steaming up from deep within the mountain rock. Fresh – clean and perfect in beauty. Always reminded me of how God spoke the waters to be - a remnant of Eden. Memories and delights yet await me tomorrow.

….oops. forgot to beat up my body for boot camp!!! Must exercise ----but not today.

Better Body Beat Me Up Camp

2009-03-24T20:04:00.002-04:00

So I signed up at work with 25 other middle-aged women and 5 brave men. We want to get healthy, you see. We all took this Blue Cross Blue Shield health survey for Wellness Week and found out that the bunch of us are overweight, sick and very unhealthy. Our answer? Better Body Boot Camp. A very ambitious staffer got Lifestyles to send two muscle monkeys to work us out. They are awesome - unless you are doing sit ups, or scrimmages, or curls...to a whistle. SHRILL up...SHRILL down...SHRILL up....SHRILL...down...SHRILL - pretend you lost count so you can rest two seconds...oops - missed the up....Shrill down.

Then you just want the burn to end and not be the first one to give up. I guess that is why we are doing it in a group. They call it motivation. We call it group humiliation.

So I made this big boast before we actually exercised...now I have to make myself work out daily and lose all this weight...because I have to win! I don't even care if there is a contest - I still have to win.... I have to prove I am the jocka from Maraca baby!

If this works – I will be glad. If it doesn’t I will be disappointed. If I could sleep through it and wake up and have all this abuse in the past…then I will be very glad….but the key is, if I don’t try I will be MORE than disappointed in myself.

The saga will continue…….

Why Kids Take Photos

2009-03-15T11:20:00.006-04:00

It is not so much that they want a photo to maintain a memory of an event or era of life, or a photo to show how pretty they are today, or how macho they are, or even a photo to show how creative they are with a project …no it is for other reasons that kids take photos.

It seemed one of those mysteries of life that needed investigating. So I put on my imaginative investigator cap– the black one that says CSI across the top in bold white letters. I gave my camera to the grandkids and said, “Go play!”. Okay – I will be honest here. I only began to wonder about this mystery after the camera sat on my desk a day or two. I did not purposefully create a kids’ photo shooting hypothetical testing environment. So – back to the story – I put on my investigator cap.

I downloaded the photos to my computer and studied them. First I deleted all the photos which were indistinguishable. There went 75% of them. BUT! They were shot with the same pure motive as the distinguishable ones. Let’s take a look at my laboratory results!

Miss me! Miss me! Now you gotta...eeewie gross!

I got you Andrew and you are in jail!

You're gonna be in trouble! I caught you with another cookie!

.......And these are my shoes....and these are...my...

Smile Momma!

Gramma! Be funny with your Dr. Pepper

So there you have it! Photography for the pure entertainment of point and click! If there is a flash – all the better. It has to be a real point and click though. A toy won’t do, unless life is still all about pretending which lasts until some magic moment between 3 and 4. There has to be the promise of reality – even if they never see the photos again. The promise is important.

Castle Art

2009-03-07T16:04:00.012-05:00

Elephant made from oil drums.

My hubby and I had a great activity with our grandkids. We try to make a monthly habit of doing “date” with the grandkids but we have done a poor job of it lately. I saw this odd place where an artist displayed his creativity in the middle of Florida - Ona to be exact – it was featured on a local news story. Some guy, Mr. Solomon, created a castle out of old newspaper set-up tins and build art out of parts from appliances, motors, cars, dishes, and other interesting junk. It is called Solomon’s castle . Much of the art was named with "tongue-in-cheek" humor. Emma and Grampy were the most enthralled with the art. Andrew liked the jokes and Grandma liked everybody liking something.

We have a few other blogs about our activities – the truck pull (the loudest and strangest activity), the steam engine ride(historical and great one for pretending to be someone in the late 1800’s), the Lipizzaner stallions (most awe inspiring and remarkable). This one will go down right along side as the oddest but pleasant.

We ate at the Boat- in-a-Moat – which is built at ¾ the size of the Santa Maria. Cannot imagine being in such a small vessel on the dangerous ocean that swallowed behemoths like the Titanic. Food was very good and very home-made but I could not help but think of the Pilgrims who so naively headed to the New Land and had nothing.
Then we went to the gift shop. A nice artisty kind of lady was so encouraging to Emma. We made sure Emma’s artistic tendencies were announced. She told her not to give up and continue to pursue what she loved. Emma told her Mr. Solomon’s art was unique and clever.

All in all it has been one more day for which I thank the Lord that I have lived.

In Solomon style, a "Foot Bridge"

Emma fencing the fence thats fencing

The Root of the Matter

2009-02-28T16:59:00.006-05:00

To go all the way – or not go all the way. That is the question of the age. My age – Going on 60.

So let me get to the root of the matter. It’s been six weeks that I have abstained. I usually do it every week but it is so monotonous and I don’t like wasting my time.

So I let the color grow – no more touching up the roots. What do you know the top of my head is so very, very white – not gray. I went to the colorist to find a way to grow it out without looking – well – looking like I am growing it out.

I told her the usual, “I want my hair to grow out its natural color – without the roots showing. I want my hair to look dark and light and white and blonde – but not gray even if gray is my natural color. I want it to shine and look natural and be exotic and plain. I want it long but short, layered but all the same length. Don’t cut anything off – I like it as it is. Do anything you like – by the way.” So she smiled and said, “I think I’ve got it.”

So getting down to the root of my weekly mind boggle– the photographic truth of it all.

Gray Roots Before

Platinum Blonde After $120

The Joyful Process

Just call me Olga from Scandinavia

Will take some getting used to

Schnauzer Sitting

2009-02-19T20:18:00.004-05:00

I have a sweet angel baby visiting my house. Her name is Muffin and she is 12 years old. She is an only child, so we weren’t too sure how the sitting would turn out. No doubt, she misses her mommy! – daddy? I am not too sure whether she misses him - just kidding. He talks a big talk about wanted to get rid of her – but he has a heart of gold and I don’t believe him. The twinkle in his eye gives him away.

I think breeds must recognize one another in some way. Ebbie, my schnauzer baby, is not too cuddly with other dogs…but she seems to follow Muffin wherever she goes in the house. Muffin seems to be quite pleased with a protégé.

She is a smart one. She told me that her mommy takes her for walks. She did not want to go in after her potty break in the yard without enticing me to walk around the block. So I did a few times. Then later, I discovered that she told my hubby the same thing. So she got two walks out of the deal in one night. Ebbie found that very curious as she is violently opposed to a leash.

Buster, our poodle boy is trying to be the big dog but Muffin scares him. She whimpers and he immediately acquiesces his role – she can be the big dog, he decides. Being an only child she isn’t quite sure how to lead - but she does know how to beg for snacks. Even Buster was impressed. Never does her eye leave the mark while she patiently waits for the treat. If you are not fast enough, she let’s you know with a slight little wharf.
Ebbie on the other hand does not have the attention span. But Muffin has her eye on the target -just look. What a sweetie. Look at the photos below.

Oh boy a snack! We are all getting a snack!

What was it I was waiting for? Oh, yeah snack!

What’s over there?
Hey! Looks like somebody got food in that bowl. And it wasn't Me!

Malady Oddities

2009-02-09T21:02:00.003-05:00

My body is a misaligned contraption of ceaseless malfunctioning parts. If there is a strange little body part that few have become acquainted with, mine will have suffered some malady as odd as the body part itself. If ever there were an unbelievable ailment, injury, or disorder in life, I will have lived it.

Take for example, my inflammation disease. It has gone from strong-arming me into a wheelchair for nearly 5 years to subsiding completely in the daylight hours permitting me to jog three miles a day and body build with competitive moxie – but only a short four years; then return it did –with a vengeance. It behaves akin to a lover’s headache. After repetitive actions of which I become weary, I began to notice this rising twitter of pain coming from a very predictable hip. It then spreads at will to any gullible body joint creating an ear-wrenching cacophonic swell of pain that requires me to utterly stop life and cover my ears while I practice Lamaze.

I once had an infected goose bump – on my lip. The observant friend will notice its remains – a tiny red dot that I long since quit covering with makeup. I shouldn’t have put my wet lip next to that frozen lamp-post, but they told the greenhorn southerner it would warm me up. It gave me a mustache shaped burn and an infected goose bump.

My mouth collects spit between my upper lip and my teeth. I cannot quietly swallow it away as it must drip down my protruding incisors and be caught by reaching my tongue out of my mouth and scooping it in. Gross, I know. It is caused by a gland, when stressed, secretes excess dribble. It is only stressed when it is imperative that I impress someone. At other times of grave importance, it completely dries up, causing my lip to stick to my teeth in a perpetual Goofey smile. This condition requires manual intervention – namely the finger.

I have a vein in my eye. Not like your vein. One early morning about 5 years ago I woke up thinking I had a worm trying to eat my eye. It was protruding from between my lashes and hurt like the dickens. Three doctors later and after six medications failures – no one knows what it is called, how it got there or why it behaves as it does. It serves one good purpose. It predicts a urinary tract infection two-three days before it occurs, without fail. It is excruciating when it flairs and gives me that junkie appearance but I get that Cipro in the nick of time.

I have a scar on my abdomen. It might as well be a zipper as it has been opened no less than 9 times for various reasons, some of which are too bizarre to name. A hair follicle survived in this scar. It grows sideways through my skin, weaving in and out like a needle and medical stitch. I can only pull it out after two weaves. If I wait for three, it gets infected.

I once had poison ivy all over my body. I built a boat docking station in a lake with little trees that grew around the shoreline. The lush summer foliage of Hot Springs, Arkansas looked all the same to me. Had I known, I probably would not have done so in a bikini. I have two scars from the ordeal. One, on my thigh – okay – I think I will not finish that one.

I thought of this whole mess about my infirmed flesh and bones as I sit here tonight with some kind of “thingy” in my nose. It is high in my right nostril and makes me sneeze – over and over. It itches, burns, feels dried, stuck, flappy, and enlarged. I suppose, after three weeks, I had better see an Eye, Nose, and Throat doctor – but I am not worried. It will never be something common – like allergies or a nodule that needs removing just another oddity of nature for which there is no explanation, no cure, grows strangely, or perhaps, since it appeared at the same time my gray hair is growing out – it will predict the perfect time for coloring my roots.

Requim of Sorrows

2009-02-01T16:35:00.000-05:00

This week has been a song of sorrows – an ongoing humming lament of condolences, memorializing, and family sounds. Thirty-seven or sixteen or some number of family have been in and out of my living room sharing with each other the shocking loss of my father. My daughter says it all so well – there is no need for me to write cathartic stories and phrases of him because hers work for me. I have kept busy.
But now life returns, as all have flown or driven home and my refrigerator is empty of leftovers. I take a deep breath, set out clothes for work, finish picking up, and I think – now I am ready to think good-bye. It is going to take some time.
My mom – she is my biggest concern. She must find a way in life that is not centered on an active, loved, dynamic man…but rather centered on her own interests, friends and activities. I hope she can find out what those are. She is strong. She will. It will take her time.
So life resumes but I will sing my sorrows in that twilight moment between rest and sleep as I recall my father’s life and his beautiful memorial. I will fancy his baritone voice belting above all others the hymns of God’s faithfulness and love. May time remove the edge of sorrow and soften our memories with smiles and sighs.

Aged Adjectives

2009-01-24T21:22:00.008-05:00

I have learned something new about myself. I love exotic cheeses and do not like fine wine. I went to this odd wine tasting event at the local art museum tonight. There were wineries from the finest of Italy and California and Oregon. We went from table to table pretending to describe each wine with a debonair vocabulary of finely aged adjectives.
A pinot noir that was berry-light, soft and velvety. A rose with a spirited sparkle to freshen the pallet. I played a game – tried to get each winery host or hostess to describe the nuances of this wine versus that wine. The funniest was describing the difference between two merlots. One had a gilded lift to it where the other was earthy and lusty. They all actually tasted – well - inadequate and overbearing to me. (That’s an adjective joke in case you didn’t catch it.) Give me a good ole Arbor Mist…..sort of a Hawaiian Punch with a kick to it. I know – I know – it is full of corn starch and food coloring….but it provides the same light-headed buzz for a lot less.
The cost of these bottles – shew….

I did learn that a reserve wine means it has been aged in the barrel and the bottle longer.

The Long Road Back

2009-01-20T22:05:00.004-05:00

I looked at my last blog and realize it has been a long time since Christmas...even longer since Thankisgiving. Every day since Thanksgiving has been spent visiting, caring for, planning around, reporting on my father and his emergencies.

He went through quadruple bypass and valve replacement 3 weeks after he had his carotid artery repaired. He was in a coma for 7 days. It took another 4-6 to come fully out of it. He endured another surgery to put in a stomach peg so he can be fed through a tube. His 85 year old frame looks frail and very old. Even in all his pain see how he comforts his wife! My mother - she is strong too. Whatever it takes she does it.

He is in rehab - and they call him the little miracle man. He has gone from this photo to sitting up on his own, laughing, working hard to talk again (the incubation tube destroyed his vocal chords...they must heal.) and shuffling from here to there with a walker. Next week he comes home - to my house.

It's hard to have faith that at 85, you can come back. But some do. If anyone can - the little miracle man can. My kids and their families have been a great loving circle of support. They have visited, picked up stuff in their trucks, helped move furniture, helped decorate for Christmas, take down Christmas - whatever Grandma and Grandpa need.

The long road back is worth it - if you belong to us....and it is really not that far when there is always some one with you, carrying you, encouraging you, or stopping for a breath with you.

So come on home little miracle man. we will take the long road back together!

Christmas Cooking

2008-12-28T22:15:00.005-05:00

There are a few definitely "for the girls" Christmas traditions in the Bucklew family. We find a day for Christmas pajama shopping. We all buy some kind of Christmas PJ outfit and wear them sometimes for Christmas baking and sometimes just for Christmas morning. We all go to Christy and Chris's house where the kids can enjoy Christmas in their home. All the girls wear their PJ's.

We sometimes wear them for cookie baking. It just makes cookies taste - well - more Christmasy when you have Christmas regalia on in the baking process. Over the years we have let the PJ bake “wear” fall to the more favored Christmas aprons for baking.

Christy and I, without fail have baked for 32 Christmas's together. Emma, for 8 of them and Sarah and Mindy joined in as they joined the Bucklew clan. My mother and I baked Christmas cookies – not so regularly but often enough that I remember it. She joins us too. Some years one or the other of my daughters-in-law hasn’t made it - but this year it was all of us. It was the best baking year ever!

All my girls are at home in my kitchen. We all do the kitchen dance...in a way that baffles the Bucklew male who hovers around the kitchen at the first scent of his annual delights. You see, my little galley kitchen requires that each of us can anticipate where the other is going and what that sweet darling baker needs - a hot pad, a wet rag, the salt, a measuring spoon, an egg from the frig . We fill this need and that need while we smoothly continue our task of pulling a cookie sheet out of the oven, rinsing the mixer sticks, spreading parchment paper for cooling....Of course someone is anticipating our needs too. It is a living drama of perfect Christmas harmony and merriment.

We make some tried and true recipes that are requirements to the guys – then we test this or that recipe, keeping some and throwing others out. This year we are testing names for a new favorite brought by Sarah. The girls like the name – lumps of coal. The boys – reindeer poop.

So here are a few shots from various years. This year will go down in history as one of my favorite nights. I took 60 seconds to watch the girls do the kitchen dance and it filled me with pride!

I wish I had taken a photo every year from the beginning – to watch the baking change – in years past it could include one of the boys, or an aunt, or just Christy and me. But it always happened every year – for 32 years.

2008

2006

2006

2003

2002

2001
2000

1980

Father's Surgery

2008-12-21T05:55:00.006-05:00

This has been a rough year for my father. Thanksgiving brought about a hospitalization in Cumming Georgia, that was the first incident in a series of emergencies, doctors, tests, and a second hospitalization. We were stunned to discover that our healthy 85 year old golfing, exercising father, funny, active, sharp-minded, serious enough to read a deep book about terrorism, and always present with us was so seriously ill that he needed immediate by-pass of the heart surgery.

It was also devastating to find that during the by-pass he needed not one or two but four and a valve replacement. They did it all -to a man who had his gall bladder removed in 1980 and his tonsils out in 1935. It was rough on him in the surgery. They had a hard time with the valve and restarting his heart. He is not doing tremendously well...but is fighting to stay alive. I don't know whether or not I think the surgery was miraculous or an invasion on his right to peaceful death. I guess it is only discernable after the fact and the decision will reveal itself as one or the other in the next few weeks.

My mother is so frail and her heart not good. This is a test of her ability to survive. She is a private woman – not prone to complain or share her sorrows and suffering. She wanted to stay at her home alone last night – not come to my house. I had to respect that and let her. I huess I am like her in this way because I understand that.

So the next week here will not be easy. My days are filled with prayer. My mind and heart know the intimate comfort of the Living Lord. Pray – everybody – pray! He truly is there.

But in honor of an unforgettable guy, who has been there for anyone and everyone especially when they have no one else in their lives. Here are a few photos of Mr. Funny Bob.

The Morning After

2008-12-14T08:09:00.006-05:00

I have been conspicuously absent from blogging. My work world has been crazy and my personal life as well.

Work
I have been planning for Polk Community College’s graduation. I have planned plenty of events – including plenty of graduations….but this one is different – you see we have a college President that no one ever wants to disappoint. She is amazing, energetic, insightful in every kind of way, and sees every detail you do not. Regardless of my stellar organizational skills. (I would put stellar in quotes but I follow this blog: The Blog of Unnecessary Quotations), I must ultimately depend on others to do the tasks. I have had my most necessary employees for this event out for two months. I am training two new employees. AND it is difficult to depend on volunteers as they drop like flies the day of the event. Then you must factor in the three or four who don’t do what you carefully scripted and trained them to do.
So on Friday I picked up checks, got Board of Trustee reservations, met with the Center where graduation was held, found a garbage can, counted reserved parking places, stopped by to pay for food at Chick-fil-A, picked up a large roll of tape, met with the sound technician and sang into the mike for the initial sound check (this was a disaster as I have no pitch), swept up broken glass, put signs out to point the way, moved 22 chairs, answered 13 phone calls – hour one with 11 more to go.

Home Life
My amazing and darling little parents provided quite the family emergency. Over Thanksgiving, my father had heart failure - in the garage of my brother’s house in Cumming, Georgia on our way out the door to come home. I did what I knew of CPR. The ambulance came – he barely made it to the hospital. In short, we had to leave them in the care of my brother and most wonderful and gracious sister-in-law (okay – skip the in-law part…this is definitely my “sissy” – and forget that blog!!!) – God bless them. So there were multiple trips to Georgia amid the Graduation event. Last night ended it all with a most precious time to decorate my parents home and tree. Mom and I put ornaments up and she told me about each one.

And now – Christmas.

The morning after Graduation

Okay - the real truth of it all.

Guess who got all the sleep

I have nothing to post

2008-11-16T20:41:00.003-05:00

It is a reflection of my exciting life. Nothing to post. I think the most interesting thing at the moment is Bill's head gear contraption thingy that he was giving by the doctor to relieve the compression on his neck.

It hangs over the door, you put water in a bag up to a pound marker (like 5-10), you put this grabber-like thing around your head which is attached to a pulley above. You sit on a chair and hang the water bag on a hook on the other side of the pulley which pulls your head up, whether you want it to or not. The head gear looks a lot like those big toy vending machines where you waste a quarter and try to grab a toy with the claws.

I would like to take a photo - but I don't dare.

I looked through the drawers this morning for my head gear contraption thingy. You hang a weight off the back of your neck and hang your head over the bed - lying on your back. It does relieve my aching neck.... He says his hasn't done that much yet.

I told him whatever happens - don't die while using it. I don't think I could explain it on a death report.

Seven Weird Things

2008-10-30T18:54:00.003-04:00

1. I sing to myself - loudly. Now those who know me can stop laughing now. After all no one else enjoys my out of tune crooning with words from somewhere deep in my head. If I run out of songs I just make noise.

2.I don't like the way coffee tastes most of the time. I only like the way it smells. Then I hold my breath and swallow. I drink it black - like a true coffee lover. That's cause I don't want the calories of sugar or cream when I am drinking something I don't like. Even if I like it better with sugar or cream. it makes perfect sense to me.

3. I dropped my cat off on a dark road one night just to get rid of it. That's awful - I know - but at least it wasn't a dog! Two days later our neighbor brought the cat back to me. He was covered in soot from being in the neighbor’s chimney for two days. The darn thing almost found his way home. My three little kids praised the Lord that He answered their prayers. Considering the neighbors had a fire the night before – I thought the kids were probably right. So I kept it.

4. I don’t like to make the restaurant choice when we go out. Everyone thinks I do. I don’t. I can never complain if I make the choice. I would like to choose where NOT to go…which is very different than where to go. My husband always picks where I do NOT want to go. Okay – so I like to play a game about picking the restaurant when we go out to eat.

5. When I am alone I hurry hurry hurry through the house to get everything done so I can sit on the couch and say, ” I’m so bored – I have nothing to do.” Then I wander from room to room and try to work up a cry. Once in a while I am successful – but if I am not crying within – say 75 seconds – I just give up.

6. I am not fair with my kids and their spouses. I mean I cheat. I treat some better than others. Okay – I admit it. The boys get left out – I give the girls a whole lot more. I love to buy things for them – real things – little things – or just be with them. I have the world’s best daughter and two daughters-in-law that I secretly love as my own.

7. I dream I live in a truck…. Or a camper…. Or a little mobile home. I get rid of all my stuff. I have very expensive – but very few items. I am unencumbered – no job, no debts – no health problems. Maybe I move to New Zealand and leave behind about 15 years when I go… I make elaborate plans in my head about my little life. Of course – all my kids and my husband somehow are always there – especially my grandkids. Then I usually look around me and say - "Wow, I don't even remember driving here!" Scarey, huh?

Jesus People Adventure

2008-10-28T16:26:00.009-04:00

COEUR d'ALENE, IDAHO

It's not about change. Change is linear. It's about returning - God calls us to return...that's cyclical. That’s what I heard in Idaho. I also heard that God hates self sufficiency. So now I come home with those two nuggets. There was a lot more said but that is what I have come home with.

Bill and I took an amazing trip to Coeur d’Alene Idaho. Chuck Missler is the Bible teacher and father of this ministry- Koininia House. He is as genuine as he appears to be through his teachings. He has had a profound impact and Bill’s life and mine. It reminds me of returning to the Jesus movement of the 70’s when hippie-dom and king-dom joined hands and turned around……returning to the Lord of mercies, the Lord of grace, the Lord of holiness, the Lord of miracles, the Lord of sacrifice, the Lord of judgment, the Lord of power…. Only this time we return with heart and mind.

I remember when everything in me could think of nothing but who Jesus was, what He was doing right now and how I was in the middle of it. I saw Him everywhere, in everything, with the passion of young love. My heart was smitten. This Jesus movement caused folks to go mad for Jesus. It rejected the stale absent, allegorical God of our denominations for the experience of His presence.

As we grew up, and learned lessons of maturing, the fervor eluded us. Today so many are still trying to find it under every miracle-preaching, Bible-thumping somebody who’s been “saved by the power of the Holy Spirit! – Amen? – Amen!” We simply need to return to the Lord our God – with heart and mind. We are mature now. It is time to given him not just our heart but our intellect.

So I am refreshed and ready. How great it is. Look at this beautiful place. I will have to post pictures later. .

The Lake

Chuck Missler - a true Man of God

Beautiful Sunday afternoon!

Date Night

2008-10-11T10:29:00.004-04:00

I love date nights! Almost as much as I did when I was 30 and my hubby took me out. These date nights are definitely not with my hubby. Actually he goes – but – to be honest, we invite another couple. A couple of kids. Grandkids. Once a month. Tonight we decided to have a pizza tasting contest for supper. We bought four different kinds of pizzas and carefully laid them out on plates. Emma made score cards so we could rate them – a task she enthusiastically took on. Celeste cheese pizza is pretty awful.
We put the bed together for Andrew – Emma now has her own bed at Grandma’s. She loves the idea of it. She wanted to hang out in her own room and watch the food channel. Now we have recipes to try - they are not from the food channel as Emma concocts them being inspired by the food channel.
Sometimes we do fantastic things, sometimes ordinary things. We have gone to monster truck pulls and Lipizzaner shows, and other exciting places. The movies are always a favorite around here too….as long as it includes eating out.
Here are some photos: Life is good.

Delicioso!

11 and acting it

Pizza options

Score cards here! Pens and Pencils here!

White Chocolate Bear-Pops for the taste team.

Sarah Palin Fan

2008-10-03T19:21:00.004-04:00

Okay so I am definitely a Sarah Palin fan. She says "ya" instead of you. She says "gonna" and she winks cause she KNOWS what we average American working persons think of political nonsense. I noticed in the garbage reading rack at the grocery store that every bad article was about Sarah Palin or John McCain. So I am now on a personal mission to find a mainstream magazine or newspaper that writes a large negative headline about Obama. "Obama, Secret Lovers Tell All.... And Their Wives Are Shocked!", "Barak came Back! His Missing Year on an Alien spaceship." or how about this one, "Barak Screams Obamanation: Macy's Day Parade Hastens Global Warming."

How about news - ABC, CBS, NBC and all their affiliates who make no apologies. No need to whisper with your hand over the mike. They out right and boldly lie, decieve and herd the American people toward the cliff of socialisim, eroding their faith in any thing that is even slightly true, right or noble. How is what they do different than Iranian TV with all its censorship and politically powered control? It is free reign censorship of integrity and truth. Grrrrrrr.

That's it. I am done. Did I say yet that I am a Sarah Palin fan?

Heart-Tuned Friends

2008-09-20T16:14:00.007-04:00

Maybe twice in a lifetime – three times if you are lucky – somebody or somebodies come along and make an unforgettable mark in your life. Used to be, these heart-tuned friends became embroidered into your life as part of your yesterdays, today, and tomorrows; an unbroken chain of life. Like Charles Ingals and Isaiah Edwards, the stories of life always included them until the last one of you stands soberly at the gravesite of the other feeling unthreaded and bare.

Now –a-days it is less like embroidery and more like a patch. We wear the patches of our friendships like honor badges and then one day we finally put the patch away because we have others…maybe not as indelible, but at least in our todays instead of yesterdays. We don’t stay in one town, we don’t stay in one job, we don’t even stay in one church or neighborhood – so those somebodies who were the important stuff of our every spare moment, somehow drift out of sight.

Dean and Joann loved to just hang out. We ate together a lot. We spent time talking about the Lord and conjecturing His plan for our lives. I think Bill and Dean rode bikes. I still have a mint brownie and casserole recipes from JoAnn. We shared values, we dreamed about building homes next to each other, moving together to the north Wisconsin woods, hiking and vacationing together. We sacrificed for each other – we went through rough times, we cried together, we grieved together. They stood with us when our first son was born, his godparents by proxy.
I don’t know what happened that we lost touch. We moved, they moved. We moved again, they moved again. There were no emails or cell phones. Bill and I have often thought of them. They have often thought of us. We have always known if ever we found them it would be a day for rejoicing.

Jon's big day. Great photo of JoAnn. Dean?!?!?!??

So JoAnn and Dean, welcome to our tomorrows! We rejoice that your lives have been good. Glad you found me . I want to know more of you. Hope to see you in Wisconsin next time we head that way!

Bye-Bye Birdies

2008-09-13T14:20:00.004-04:00

I loved putting up my birdie wallpaper. I even took in a piece and had the paint perfectly matched to the paper and my entire house is painted with birdie backdrop color. They are robins sitting on little nests, sparrows on tree branches. So cute.

But today I am not putting them up, I am taking them down. Not fun! Two hours it took for a portion of one small wall. Clean up took almost as much time. I distinctly remember making a decision - I now regret. Bill said, " Do you want to paint on a layer of ???? before putting up that wallpaper." In my ever impatience with doing things the right way I emphatically said no - I want to put wallpaper up right now!

Who would have thought the nomadic Bucklew hippies would actually live somewhere long enough to RE-remodel?

I did not know how valuable ???? was until today. You paint your walls with ???? THEN put up the wallpaper. Ten years later when you are ready to peel it down, it comes down in long big satisfying sheets rather than micro-specks of paper mache mess collecting at your feet and all over your clothes as you pick, and peel little tiny pieces.

But the birdies must go Bye-Bye. The paper is peeling and looks old....ten hard years of kitchen life. I have no idea what I will put up next... By the time I get the wallpaper down....we probably will be moving on.

Going Solar

2008-09-01T13:13:00.006-04:00

Hurricane season is upon us. I spent money on preparations. When you have spent money on all other things in life, like new decorations, a change in curtains, tupperware, clothes to die for, nice car, diamond jewelry, shoes and more shoes, replacing them is not so exciting...so I think you hang on to them longer....at least longer than you would have if you were - say 20 years younger.

So you look for new thrills in the purchase arena. Unchartered untried untested oddities that
make your kids go, “HUH???!!???” I found one.

It presses lots of my buttons all at the same time. It's a solar cooker. If we ever have to go without electricity I can now cook. I can bake a cake, cook beans and rice (everyone eats beans and rice after a hurricane, ya' know). It supposedly cooks food healthier - a hot button of mine. All the enzymes stay fresh and alive. Vegetables are perfect without water or salt. I can also heat water for a sponge bath. I can boil anything dirty. It uses only the strong natural free sunshine to induce heat. It’s great for camping. Of course, I don’t camp and have no intention of ever doing so….but if someone wrangled me down and threw me in a camper, I could cook.

It is a bit of a novelty. I ordered it from India where it is just another appliance. It can get up to 375 degrees! Pretty amazing. Today it is cooking at 200. (Slightly overcast.)

Tonight my family will be the first to taste test solar cooked green beans and wild rice. But just in case it is NOT what it is supposed to be, I have the back up food in the fridge – ready to throw on the electric stove.

What’s next? Water! How do you get clean water? I wonder if you can buy a rain catcher? A portable water purifier? Maybe a portable well driller….That would be cool.

Final thought. I bet I could have made these and sold them to the wagon trains in 1869!

Hurricane Day

2008-08-23T21:46:00.007-04:00

What to do on a hurricane day when there is no hurricane. Christy and the kids came over - ready with snacks, and games, and flashlights, and candles. They wanted to sleep in the closet. Not Christy - Andrew and Emma. That's what we do when we have a hurricane. But it never came.

It passed just close enough to wave its mighty wing across Market Square and give us the most magnificant breezy day. So we took advantage - and ate outside. See the fun we had?

Sleepless Again

2008-08-07T23:03:00.005-04:00

Well, crude! I can't sleep again. Someday I could write a book with all my thoughts on sleepless nights. It would be a crazy novel of intrigue and activity and - well - no - it would be a comedy of forgotten tasks, late but very poignant comebacks. Well - no it would be a boring list of to-do's.

So I sit on the couch listening to the staccato intermittent snores coming from my beloved - and I am jealous.

Used to be, on nights like this, Opie, my poodle pal would be right beside me. Just a quick little "tsht tsht" would bring him to me where ever he was and he would not leave me. Ebbie, my mini schnauzer is 11 months old. She thinks "tsht tsht" means "roll over half way put your paw up and bark". Andrew, the grand - grandson told me she reminded him of the walruses at Seaworld.

She won't stay with me but loves to explore the dark because the bedroom door is open. I wonder what she is chewing on in the dining room? Hope it is NOT my 1920 tiger oak table.

I was going to write an elegant post about the perfect time of day to get to know yourself. I thought about describing the "Getting Acquainted" game you can play with yourself, or the icebreakers that help you warm up to yourself. Like your left brain asking your right brain a question "If you were an animal what would you be? - A horse! says one. That's a stupid question says the other.

There are also the activities you can do - like wiggling your toes or rocking your hips back and forth and finding the perfect snoozing position of being on your back-side and tummy all at the same time. But instead, I think I will sing you my Sleepless Song.

"tsh-tic-a-tsh-tic-a-too-too-tsh...blah blah boogity boo - how sleepy are you?"

(Just be glad I did not put up a wav) Good night all. I have things to do, places to go, and conversations to be had....then hopefully in the midst of one of those I will fall to sleep.

Family Reunion - Reinert Style

2008-07-29T19:54:00.010-04:00

Every 5 or so years we have it. The big Reinert reunion. People come from Texas, Idaho, Washington state, Virginia, Colorado and more to St. Joseph, Missouri where Emma and Henry Reinert, German Lutheran immigrants, met and began a family. They raised 7 children and one grand-daughter - my mother. The Reinert brothers were stone masons - built some of the precious few walls still standing in old St Joe today. They had a signature way to lay cement so that it looked like a neat little roll between the stones. I remember playing on this wall and above the old green garage doors as a child. Better yet so does my mom - she played cafe and pretended to put dishes between the stone pillars! Even still more significant, my Grandmother used to tell me how she played on the stone wall above the garage. It seemed to all of us quite magnificant at the time.
We watch our kids grow up, our parents grow old and feel the sting of our grandparents departing this life. Yet we gather. We eat and - well - we sing. We sing German beer drinking songs and patriotic songs. We talk about God and who looks good and what fortunes (or misfortunes) each of our lives has held since last we gathered. We want to continue to meet - even though we are worlds apart and don't write or visit. We embrace with great joy and deep memories of childhood and camaraderie of heritage. There are a few left who actually remember Henry and Emma. There are many to come who will have the joy of belonging that they created.

My dear dear Marsha.The first cousins still living with only a few missing.

Memory Chocolates

2008-07-18T20:36:00.005-04:00

I have this special little box. It contains my memory chocolates - very delicate ones at that. My daughter Christy made them. When Emma was a baby, she made these cute little journals with her personal little flair designing them. She then thought about all the things she would find interesting to ask her grandmother, her auntie, her mother - the kind of interesting things that bring floods of memories to old minds and fires up the emotions long put to bed. They came in a little box that looked like Christy's paper garden cut into little printed question strips of delightful-as-chocolate surprises - cut with pinking sheers of course.

It was a mother's day gift to all of us older women in Emma's life. The point was to share our memories with Emma in our journal. I decided to write in it over the years. Every now and then I remember it, and sneak it from the cupboard for a moment of memory delight. I pull out a question and answer it. I think it is much more a gift to me than Emma. I saved the left side of the page for Emma - someday, I hope she can fill it with all her memories of Grandma and say I think this is much more a gift to me than Grandma.

Farewell Senator Helms

2008-07-04T15:06:00.004-04:00

Okay - so I am blatantly pro-life. Jesse Helms died today - God rest his soul. He was a champion and a bull dog - maybe a sheep dog - if you know what I mean. Women being led to the slaughter......

When I was a young mom - about 33 years old, I spoke at a conference in Chicago with Jesse Helms and other well known pro-life figures. I spoke many places so my memory is a bit fuzzy. Could have been other famous folks there like the once Surgeon General Dr. Koop, could have been Jean Garton, and others. But I do remember the bigger than life - no holds barred Jesse Helms. We walked down the hall together from the speakers room to the guest table among paparazzi and body guards. He was towering and my pace could not keep up without a near run. A reporter bent down and asked us to stop for a photo shot. He looked at me and said, "Got a good one of the two of you." Then Senator Helms turned and winked at me as he said to the reporter," I'll take an 8x10 glossy - always want a photo with a pretty lady."

The conference went on and we all did our speaking bit. Never will forget Jesse Helms! He is one of my heros!

Old English Rose

2008-06-29T08:33:00.006-04:00

I am generally not too girly-girl. But there are things I like. Such as tea parties - especially with little girls, and big/little girls like my daughter and daughters-in-law.When I was 4 years old we lived in west Texas just outside Santa Ana, some dusty old cowboy town with horse railings in front of the Piggly Wiggly. Once in a while there were horses hitched up. We often stayed in the car with Dad while Mom shopped. Anyway - back to the tea party.

One sweltering summer afternoon my mom called my in from baking my mud, figs and mulberriy pie on a hot rock behind the house. She had a tea party set up in the garage with a table cloth, real china cups, some cookies and my dolls. I will never forget it.

About 12 years ago, visiting my husband's parents, I saw a beautiful teacup peaking out of the overstuffed cupboard. "Mom!" I said, "Where did you get those!" I grabbed a cup as though I were 4, delighted and in awe of such a surprise find. "Oh, Vi had so many of them in her house, she gave me that set because I was admiring it." Vi was one of those odd cousins who collected stuff - good stuff - antique stuff and had it everywhere in about 4 homes from Iowa to Wisconsin to Chicago. "Have you used the set?" I asked secretly hoping the question would encourage her to put on some tea. "Oh heavens, no." There's nothing but boys around here.

It was silent for a few minutes, we both realized we were alone because the "boys" had gone to the Hardware store. Without a word she put on the tea kettle, I grabbed two saucers and two cups, from the cupboard delighted at their delicate beauty, a couple of tea bags and sugar. We shoved the mail, the newspapers and a pair of gloves to the side to make room at the table.

We sat, poured our tea and admired the cups. She giggled and shared stories of her youth. Now my mother-in-law was a talker by anyone's standards and she talked the tea kettle cold! I saw her young and beautiful, full of dreams. I saw her in dispair with baby Timmy who died as an infant. I saw her a young mom, trying to work full time, cook, clean, keep house and be a mom without the conveniences we have today. It was a special moment for us.

We don't have much from Wisconsin and his parents who have both passed away. We live so far, it isn't practical to have much. But I have the tea set. Royal Albert Old English Rose.

Here is Betty Burke Bucklew at 17 years old. What a cutie she was!

Reflections

2008-06-16T16:39:00.004-04:00

No one makes me feel safer than Daddy. No one comforts me like Mommy. After a long travel day home from vacation, he carries me into the house late at night and Mommy tucks me in as I sleepily groan to the pleasure of my own bed.

He takes me to my first day at college, making sure my dorm has all the necessities of life and my purse has enough cash for a week of snacks. Mommy hugs me extra long.

Daddy sends me cash because I hitchhiked somewhere and can't get home. Mommy waits on the couch and hears me sneak in as dawn is breaking because she wants me to be safe - not just to catch me.

I tell my new husband, "I don't want to do that without asking Dad." and I wonder will I ever trust my husband the way I trust my Dad? I fall on the floor of Mom's house as she gladly takes the baby, makes the supper, cleans up and let's me rest - free of responsibility for just one evening and I am glad she is my Mom!

Dad buys us steak and lobster. We devour the moment, my husband and I, as we spent a week eating peanut butter and jelly to buy gas to visit.

We share Christmas with them, so happy to pay for all the groceries ourselves and have nice gifts for them to. Really nice surprises. What a joy. They let us do it and we are glad.

We go out to eat on a random Saturday and my husband grabs the check at the restaurant and we insist on paying. We want to honor them. It is our turn we say.

We clean out the spare room and bring their bed over. We get an electric chair to make getting up easier. It's only temporary we say. And here we are. I know they are going back home in August when Dad's broken shoulder gets better, but I also know a part of me doesn't want them to go. I thought this would be hard. It's not. It is natural and I want my dad to feel safe and to comfort my mom.

Natalie

2008-06-10T20:50:00.003-04:00

My grand neice and darling doing her first crawl

The Month of May

2008-05-28T09:56:00.009-04:00

My blogability has been next to nothing these past few weeks. I am full of the stuff of life, like going to Andrew's piano recital, cooking out, cleaning the house for company and working. I have had some abnormal stuff though. Abnormalities are like the dust balls of life. Suddenly they are everywhere and you spend your time chasing them around the house on a windy day with the windows open trying to collect them with a broom and dustpan. They allude you!

So in picturama - here is my last few weeks.

Decorations for my parents' 60th anniversary party. Nine shopping days, 27 stores, 32 trips (some stores took two trips) and $101.32.

Still trying to plant the perfect flowers. Every pot in the yard has something dying in it. The impatiens were very cute - until Jack the terrier (or terror) chased lizards through the pots. But, in consolation, he did bring me part of the lizard - right to my pillow.

Ebbie, my darling little mini Schnauzer. She was spayed last month. This week she chewed an eyeball off a stuffed fish, threw up 14 times in one day, Memorial Day, when no vet is open, so we had the distinct pleasure of giving the Pet ER our business again. She had surgery to remove the eyeball which was stuck in her intestine. Not feeling too good - I would say. I am cooking chicken and rice for her for several days. Cooking only rice for me- after paying the bill!

Pool screen finally gave way. New screen goes up- but thankfully the day before company comes in. So much for our savings.

So therefore, blogging has not been on my mind. I do look forward to days of family - spending time with my brothers and their families. I think I will yodel.

Dietpause

2008-05-10T06:37:00.004-04:00

My plants are full of dead buds. If I have to pinch them all off to get more flowers – well I guess I won’t have any more flowers because it is too hard to pinch just the dead flower and not the branch. So I will leave the plants “a natural”. Anyway here is the best day of the flowers in the early morning sun. Kind of cool.
Why can’t I diet? I wonder if aging affects one’s diet hormones. I mean, surely there are diet hormones. They hit women monthly. You feel fat, ugly bloated and HAVE to diet. Few ever make it past a few weeks and even fewer make it stick more than a year or two. Then there are those who have hyperdietism – those are the individuals who can diet with a passion, stay thin and fluff-buff(that is look like you work out just enough to have some attractive muscles but not like the man-woman on the Muscle Magazines.) and they even enjoy it!
I should be good at dieting. I start one every Monday. I used to pride myself in self-denial. I went to many showers and parties with incredible delectables and I haughtily said no to it all while wearing a “Jesus Loves you” smile. I looked down on all the poor women who were filling their bodies with everything sinful to eat – unable to stop themselves – but alas I am now one of them.
But I do have the comfort of the setpoint theory. All of our bodies have a setpoint where they just want to be – weightwise. It just so happens mine is higher than yours. I cannot help it, my body demands it and I just don’t have the strength to battle this body any longer. You see I have been through dietpause and all those diet hormones have succumbed to the aging process. I could go to the physician and get some dietgestrone and actually I have. But it made my heart race and made me stay up all night…so I have learned the wisdom of allowing my body to win its battle – to hit its setpoint and to let sleeping diet hormones lie. I have learned to cope. I will just start fresh every Monday morning and go until I give up – be it Thursday, Friday or Saturday. (Sunday is ALWAYS diet day off).
This being Saturday morning, I want some pancakes and bacon, and a cinnamon bun, and just a bite of Bill’s home fries and I would love a small bite of grits – cheesy grits - hmm good. But I promise to eat a nice bowl of fruit along with everything else so I don’t feel too guilty – that is until Monday.

Saturday - Not too Shabby

2008-04-26T21:56:00.003-04:00

Okay – enough of the deep and heavy. (sounds like the new night cream regime I am following – deep peel and heavy cream)- Oh and I do look lovely! When I take it off that is. Even Bill said my skin looks greatly improved (okay – so not greatly but – improved.) Now that is saying something.

Remember my Lipizzaner stallions? Bill and I drove the grandkids to Sarasota to watch the world famous stallions practice their dressage. We were so close and were able to go through the stables and actually pet them afterwards. Emma rode a pony.

I thought two hours of horse might bore them – but both kids seemed to utterly enjoy them. Andrew thought it cool that they were once war horses – fighting battles with all their maneuvers. Emma thought they did the ballet quite well for boy horses.

Nonetheless, the day was lovely, the breeze warm,and not-yet humid, the horses close-up and the kids engaged. To keep the momentum of the day going, I even planted flowers around my birdbath this evening - looking for the perfect end to a great day. Bill, who was working on his truck, had to find my tools, carry the mulch and potting soil, tell me how and where to plant, had to rescue the bird bath which I tilted a good 30 degrees , clean up the dirt pile and the walkway. He clean up the empty plastic pots and water all when I was done. But other than that, I did the whole thing myself. Should have thought of something else to do. As I sit here tonight $35.00 of flowers are drooping and dying across a bed of mulch that somehow has more dirt in it than mulch. Claiborne, don't you laugh! that's not fair. I heard that!

Postmodernism - How did we get there?

2008-04-20T07:25:00.005-04:00

Yesterday I taught one of those 8 hour classes at the college where I adjunct. Leadership and World View. Leadership Theory I can teach. I know that stuff but the world view part used an in-depth philosophy book taking a look at various worldviews that replace religion such as New Age, Post-modernism, and Atheism. I have never had a lick of philosophy and don’t know why the college threw it into this course because it did not fit. However after spending hours of time studying so I did not look like a total buffoon – I muddled through student presentations and explanations. The one that struck me to the core is Postmodernism.

This view is born out of a style that began in the 1980’s – a style of architecture, art, dress and other things that demonstrate a rejection of what has been historically accepted as good, beautiful, or right in that industry. It then grew to be a belief – throwing out the good with the bad of that which the previous generation taught as good, godly, right -a rejection of the Bible as infallible, of Christianity as right, and the acceptance of proven science to be infallible and the best value to believe in – that is if it strikes your inner self as good and right. For more on postmodernism read this.

What struck me is that this generation is the peer group of my kids who grew up under the parentage of the Jesus Movement in the 70’s and 80’s and all of our generation’s pendulum swinging fanaticism without foundation. We taught our kids to pray about the color of socks they should wear each day, about healing their little boo-boo and if it wasn’t healed they didn’t have enough faith, that Little House on the Prairie wasn’t a godly show – in fact- all TV was evil, that Santa Claus is dead, that if you pray and believe you too can be prosperous, and that there was no greater joy than singing worship songs for 4 hours at a time, - forget about lunch; then there was the laughter thing that God would glue you to the pew and cause you to laugh for 3 hours to bless you.

Our children of the 80’s have grown to see that the Christianity we have fluctuated in is fallible and they interpret that as an errant Word of God and that the tenants of Christianity are naïve and unreasonable. They have turned their hunger for truth away from Christianity because what we have argued as truth with them is only our fallible fanaticism that we ourselves wrestle with daily - but see – we were there – we KNOW about the sweep of the Holy Spirit in our nation – so some of us hang on to that wave and have never moved on but our kids - they were not their cognitively speaking.

So I watch this young generation taking over the control of the vote, the politics, the businesses – I watch them pick and choose things in the Bible they will value, pick and choose things in nihilism or existentialism, etc they will value, and thinking they have the answer, believing all things are relative, they are led like lambs to the slaughter while those in my generation who have stuck with God have finally decided that seeking the Word for real truth and being willing to question long-held ideas of Christianity and rid ourselves of denominational and religious dogma have opened our eyes to a new solid knowledge and logical, intellectual proof that God is true and REAL; and so is His Word. But now – the postmodern 20-30 something won’t listen – we had our chance.

God help us all.

Mein Erbe

2008-04-14T21:30:00.006-04:00

There are those days you wish you could go back in time and be a part of something from then to now so that you could have a thousand memories of yesterday that you do not have...but only wish you had. That makes perfect sense to me, hope it does to you.

Sunday was one of those days. I took my parents to the park to take photos in authentic German regalia. They look the part - perfectly the part. I wanted to know German, remember German events, have German memories- I would like to know what '"Gott segnen das wenig eine" means.

I am erasing all the negative things I feel about Germany and the German way of life and embracing my heritage as I help my parents plan an old fashioned German party for their 60th. Just look at them. They deserve to enjoy a celebration that is all about them - their way of life, their history - what they enjoy and with whom they enjoy it.

Raindrops and Rest Stops

2008-04-06T16:03:00.004-04:00

Rain is a wonderful excuse to do very little - except snack and nap. I love a real excuse to be lazy. Some people call it resting or relaxing, some call it chillin', some call it taking it easy ----- what else do people call it? Down time, time for myself, doing nothin', indulging myself.etc. Does it bring any images to mind?

Why do I call it being lazy? I think the phrase you use to describe the act of nothing in particular describes the kind of person you are when you particularly do something . I mean, really, think about it. How would you describe yourself? Easy going? Keeps cool, watches life go by and enjoys whatever you happen to catch in your happy-go-lucky net? Then you would probably spend a rainy Sunday afternoon chillin? True? Come on now! It's true isn't it?

If you are a never-sit-down kind of person, always seeing the spider web on the wall, the glass on the table that needs to be picked up and nothing gets your juices going more than a stressful project with many facets of "to-do's" - you spend a rain Sunday afternoon being lazy.

What about you, Miss Exercise and Health-conscious Yogurt-eating morning power-walker. You relax – don’t you? It sounds a lot like stretching or Pilates for the mind.

So readers, what do you call it? Does it fit your personality? I wonder…..

Don't see much in VISTA

2008-03-30T00:43:00.003-04:00

Unbelievable! I won a computer. I put my name in one hat at the Registrar's covention in Orlando and I won a lovely HP Pavilion Entertainment PC - Windows VISTA edition. Got it on Friday.

Since Friday was a busy day bringing home Ebbie from being spayed and going to my Aunt and Uncle's 50th anniversary celebration for which I was the flower girl. (hmm....m...m..hmm. dates me a little!) - Well, I had no time to configure my new computer so I looked forward to this morning.

9:00 AM, I brought my little mug of coffee with me to my nice little home office. Tonight at 1:00 in the morning I have nothing but curses for the new computer. I can't get the printer installed, it isn't compatible with my Camcorder software, AND I can't find all the utilties and configurations I am used to. I hate it right now.

I finally paid Linksys for a support call to help me - and it is taking her about two hours! She is on the computer remotely right now while I sit here waiting ... Why couldn't I have won a trip to the spa!! Why a computer!

Oh but wait - what do I see? Is it talking back to me....Yeah,,,ah! Pretty Computer! It's talking back to me.....(The printer is going - and now she's singing to the tune of Pretty Woman!)

You should see this think. - plays HD dvd's - live connect to TV - four different photo softwares to manage, modify, display and create with.... Great speakers and love the graphics. Not bad for free...not bad at all!

Gotta go play - finally!

Thinking about Me

2008-03-27T14:51:00.001-04:00

I feel self-reflective today. I cannot say with certitude who I am or what I think of myself. If I were a painter, I might do a self-portrait to study me, but being who I am I can't take time for that nor have I the talent. I am reading a friend's written thoughts poured out over years - her emotions, spirituality, and reasons now confined by words and phrases some of which I cannot make sense of for myself, some of which are profound- but are all her.

I don't want to work this week. Maybe I look old enough to retire - is that justification? Can working change the uncertainty of the future - I think not - but my reason tells me it will change how well I am fortified in the uncertainty of the future.

I don't want to diet this week. Maybe I look old enough that being sensibly unfat doesn't matter anymore. Can dieting change my aging old self? I think not - but reason tells me it will change how healthy I am in the great years to come.

I don't want to exercise this week. Maybe I look old enough that being winded after a short sprint across campus is quite normal. Can exercising really change the vigor of my step or will it just increase the limpity step-limp endued upon me by the 50's.

So, rather than write or paint, I took a photo self portrait. I won't post them all. I guess I look young enough to still work, heavy enough to diet and exercise, wrinkly enough to spend money on beauty products, plain enough to enjoy being average, unique enough to be me. Do I like me? Most of the time I like me just fine. Once in a while I think I need to slap me – but not today.

UMM-UMM I LIKE ONIONS

2008-03-22T22:45:00.004-04:00

I cooked most of the day away. Tonight we had our home church group at our house. and we generally share a meal. I wanted to make something that was easy so what could be easier than a pot of beef stew? I went to the grocery store and there in the gourmet section of the fresh veggie aisle I saw the cutest little bag - green string mesh all natural-looking - of fresh pearl onions. Wow - they were so cute - like toys for an easy bake oven dish. I ran the frozen ones back. Well, I couldn't very well allow gourmet pearl onions to sit in a pot of plain stew with plain old potatoes and plain old carrots.

So, I came home and researched gourmet potatoes. Do you know that there are 36 kinds of potatoes and Publix sells 10 of them? Back to the store.

I purchased my Green Giant petit purple golds and the best I could do for gourmet carrots was organic crinkle cuts. A little fresh parsley and basil. I was ready to go - with nothing to stew about ...okay - so I am not good with jokes.

Two hours later - I must say I have vowed NEVER to purchases or even look at fresh pearl onions again. There were 82 in the bag. You must snip off both ends with a knife and plop them in boiling water for 30 seconds - no longer!! Then one by one you must carefully peel off the thin layer of dry skin to undercover the shiny white pearl.

That was the good part of the cooking day. However, let's skip to the end. The stew was scrumptious - with hot bread and olive oil from Carraba's. My friends raved about the delicious scents greeting them at the door and how perfect this day was for hot beef stew.

We enjoyed a beautiful dinner under the porch - drizzling rain played quietly in the background, flickers of candle light decorated the table. As we moved to the living room to have our teaching and I picked up the bowls - I discovered that most of my guests do not like onions. So I ground them down the garbage disposal. Not me - I ate every one of them!

Nothing Much

2008-03-09T18:07:00.007-04:00

My friend tore her toe nail off. I wasn't very sympathetic. The first thing I thought was that she wouldn't be going with me to the Jazz event at Bok Tower. So maybe her company was more important than my sympathy. Never-the-less I sent her a picture of my perfectly manicured toenails. - All five of them on one foot. I guess I wasn't very sympathetic.

Ebbie, my mini schnauzer is such a cute pup. I love her sleepiness. She awkwardly jumps on the couch next to me - usually takes two attempts. She makes little baby grunting noises. THen she really loves it when big brother Buster snuggles in with her. They are so cute sleeping nose-to-nose. Look. They are so cute. They all have sweaters on because it is so cold out. Jack, our SPCA dog must have had a pampered beginning. He knew how to put a sweater on. One foot - then the other.

I want to complain about weekends. They make you do things you shouldn't. I have no problem staying on a diet during the week. But on weekends? It is torturous. It's like - well the weekends are time off from work. They don't count against you for vacation time. They are free time...so why can you just make the free from everything. If they don't count for vacations they shouldn't count for diets.

I have company this weekend. Not really company more like a life-long heart friend. It is an amazing relationship. She is my daughter-in-law's mother. Can you believe? We are very close and I love seeing her. But I hate her beautiful figure...I would never say that out loud.

All is well as I adjust to the fact that it is really 6:15 but feels like it is really 5:15 because we changed the clocks ahead and now I have to get used to it being 6:15 the way it really is,

Victims of Divorce

2008-03-02T09:41:00.001-05:00

Victims of divorce - the phrase makes you think of the children. I want to talk about the “me” in the divorce….the “me” victim. The cause for divorce is not always 50-50 sometimes it is more like 80-20. I am talking to the “me -20 percenters”. We made our mistakes in the marriage – we openly regret them – we lived repentance for them sometimes for years in a marriage. We want restoration, we want to love and be loved. Despite our mistakes, we do one thing well. We stick to our marriage vows. We made a vow to our partner – a vow for life. We have every intention of keeping it because our devotion and love are real.

Our partner’s isn’t. They say it is when they need us, but they change their minds when a willing somebody shows up at a convenient moment. They say they need us when they need a whipping post to feel big for a moment in time. So we take the abuse – verbal, mental, physical, spiritual – every part of our Living – every part of who we are. Why? Because we want them to love us. We want our marriages to work. We don’t want to give up.

But the inevitable happens, often through bitter horror that only those who have suffered like we have understand. Then we must go on. It would be easier, had they died. Not that we wanted them to die, although there are times we might wish that! But rather we wanted the wound to close and heal. If there are children, if we live in a small town, if our family lives are intertwined in other ways, if we have other life connections - we face unexpected moments of ‘wounding” over and over.

Will I ever get over this? The classic question. Sometimes we seek professional counseling because we feel such a cutting apart of ourselves. We want the emotions to go away. Especially the deep-hearted anger. I think in the spiritual sense we should feel this deep cutting apart that wounds us so. This feeling of tearing apart and deep-hearted anger is our confidence that our marriage vows were real to us, our devotion was righteous. Let it be your confidence; not your undoing.

It does take time to heal. But you cannot build bitterness against your ex-partner. Bitterness does not punish him or her….it punishes only you. Draw a line in the virtual sand and say you no longer affect me here – this is my day of freedom from your tyranny. But don’t think I am going to tell you that anger is wrong and you should lay it down! Oh no! Your life may have continued, you may have remarried – or you may be filled with happiness and have hit that moment again where you step outside and take a big deep breath of air with your arms raised to the sun and say to yourself “Wow! I am so happy today! What a beautiful day!” without a thought of your ex-partner. BUT, when they come into view as you pass them in the grocery store, see them at church or a restaurant, hand off the children to them, find your Thanksgiving at your adult child’s house includes your ex-partner and another new lover, or even find a photo as you go through old things – that anger wells within you. Let it have its moment – not a long one but let it be your confidence. Like the man who was nearly burned alive trying to save his wife from the crash site. The pain is his confidence that he gave all he had, sacrificed his very own well being to save her. The only regret is that it wasn’t enough – not that HE didn’t do what was right or enough. Your anger is the confidence that you gave all you had, sacrificed your very own well being to save your marriage. The anger is regret that it was not enough – not that YOU didn’t do what was right or enough.

YOU KNOW YOU ARE HEALTHY WHEN……
You have a slight twinge of sorrow for them
You may have a sense of pity – even if it is ever-so-slight
You do not seethe with an overwhelming wish of harm on them
You are filled, sometimes to your surprise with a deep hearted anger but you can cut if off after a moment
You ask yourself – why can’t I get over this – is this normal?
Your reaction is kept to yourself

Remember the anger! It is your confidence! It is a your gift from God that says you are my righteous one! Rock on with God!

Hitting the Jack-Pot

2008-02-23T21:51:00.012-05:00

I didn't mean too. Had no interest in doing it...but my daughter - she is so persuasive. But so was his tail, his pretty dark eyes and his great desire to be held in my arms. He is five years old and is some kind of terrier mix. He comes to us, after several homes - and all he wants is a mommy to devote his life to. His name is Jack.

The whole family got involved - my eldest son was ready to volunteer his time at the SPCA. My youngest son was coaching me on what to say so they would not say NO to my adoption. Bringing him home was quite natural. He fit right in. No worries from Buster or Ebbie.

But the day was about our budding artist. Miss Emma had her fancifuls displayed in colorful medium. She even had at least one autograph request. (Thank you Great Grandma!). Just so her art is fully appreciated, it is displayed here in full view. She is proud. I asked her why her art was chosen for display. She told me that you had cover most of the page with some kind of color and that is why.

We later took the kids to Parrish, Florida to ride an honest-to-goodness steam engine train. The call of the choo-choo sounded as excting as resurrected extinct creature from years gone by. The steam billowed and the coal growled under the blaze...We were off at the blazing speed of 10 miles an hour.

What a lovely day - overcast, cool and breezy. We saw falcons and buzzards, horses and birdnests. No wild boar - but just the idea that we might was enough to keep our eyes on the look out. We had a grand supper at Bob Evans and watched some animated movie about a rat who can cook. What a great day indeed. More photos below.

The caboose shot

Grampy and Andrew examing the mechanics and stuff

Emma watching the world at 10 MPH

Grandma and Emma in jail at the end of the RR line

Airport Games

2008-02-19T19:49:00.003-05:00

Something odd about an airport. I am sitting in my favorite one - Charlotte. Full of self-importance racing from one end of the terminal to the next. Men in particular. I used to be impressed with busy men in dark suits carrying briefcases and talking business as they rushed. Now I realize that most of them are posers each trying to impress the other. I love to "play their game". It's like truth or dare. We share stories back and forth - none or few of them real. Maybe they are less stories and more dreams.

"Yeah, my wife and I just bought a cottage on Myrtle Beach." Then I ask him where is home - it is usually some benign place like Lincoln, NE. Now, you and I both know he did not buy a cottage on the beach- 1500 miles from home - especially if he is flying coach and rolling a computer bag that says, M.E.G. Valves and Hoses.

But the game is basically sharing random pieces about your life and seeing who can get the biggest , "Oh yeah!" from the other. It has to be the right kind of "Oh, Yeah!" Can't be the kind that says "I don't believe that!", or "Ho-Hum - I am only half-listening." It has to be the "Oh Yeah" that says "I'm a wee bit jealous of you." or "I'm impressed. Keep talking." It doesn't matter if what you share is true or not - as long as the other person veiws it as believable. Now those of you who know me - know I am REALLY good at this game!

My other favorite airport activity is watching folks. Charlotte is lined with white rockers in the terminal hub and down some of the concourses - as though you have time between flights to sit and ponder life in the fastlane! They are usually filled though. Folks with delayed flights, missed flights, long layovers from poor scheduling. Rockers are suppose to reduce stress and make you thing of the "good ole days" or reflect on happy things like why butterflies are beautiful and what you are cooking for supper. But I enjoy examining folks in the rockers. I make up stories about who they are and where they are going. I wonder why they chose the rocker instead of a table and chairs near the piano bar in the terminal hub.

So that is the end of my evening. Can't wait to go home. I still don't want to travel for my work. That was a tough two years.

Sharp Knives

2008-02-08T19:37:00.001-05:00

I am sitting in the office with tax stuff all around me. I wouldn't choose to be here - on a Friday night. But - it is after supper and my hubby is in the kitchen cleaning up. I cooked - he cleaned. Doesn't stop there.... you see Bill doesn't clean. He CLEANS.....so... I am suffering excrutiating pain in my teeth because he is sharpening the knives. Every scrape makes my teeth feel like they are going to fall out - like my nerve endings are being toyed with by a torturist.

I thought about putting on my Ipod...but it is in the car. I thought about putting ear plugs in my ears but they are in the night stand by my bed. Then I thought about going La-La-La-La...but he would stop and come ask me what's the matter probably with the kinve and the sharpener in his hand. I could pull my teeth out - but I am not that brave. So I am writing about it...to relieve.....oh- there he goes. IT's over.

Now I can go to the Living Room. Bye!

Cell Phones

2008-01-24T19:41:00.000-05:00

This is like a blah day. So is every other day…blah…blah…blah. I am struggling to make the days unique, special, to stop and smell the roses, to live each day to the fullest and wake up saying “It’s a Jesus-filled day.” So I do not know what to write… because my day is not cliché – only blah….but here are some thoughts I had today…very strange.

I was driving out of the campus, talking to my daughter on the cell. I looked around and there were at least 30 people on their cells. It suddenly occurred to me that everyone’s words were sailing through the air – along their predetermined rivers and waves until they are jerked into a thousand electrified wires that drive them to many ears.

Then I looked out the window and a torrent rain of words was coming down, it was blowing toward me as I drove. The lights shone through the heavy torrents and the words parted by the force of the automobile, returning to their assigned spot in the air as they passed. I saw a few of them “your kidding!!!” and “she told me….” How do those words get through the air and the wires to come out so clearly that I can hear a disappointment or a smile! Amazing!

The air truly is living – it carries the breath of God, the words of everyone who ever cried at birth and the cosmic power of the one true Word.

I wonder if someone stood on the precipice of the Alps with a pair of stich-mastery leiderhosen and yodeled “Ricola” , listened to the echo ,and wondered how words go across the air; then had an ahah moment that changed the world.

LipizzanER

2008-01-17T21:49:00.000-05:00

The "ER" is new since 1958 - my book did not used the ER. But none the less I did see the lipizzaner stallions on Sunday. The show was an amazing display of ballet and brawn. The stallions enjoyed themselves as they anticipated the next move which was whispered to them by the slight weight shift of the rider. Totally unnoticed by the crowd at large.

They train for 5-7 years to learn how to dance and dressage! They were finer and excitinger and amazinger than I expected. It was a grand time and I felt like a six year old being wowed. I wanted to pet one and never wash my hands, I wanted to run my fingers through their flowing well groomed manes, I wanted to beg my Daddy to buy one....er...ah...er Didn't mean to get lost in that.

If ever you have the opportunity to see them ----DO!

Add/Drop and Dreams

2008-01-11T20:50:00.000-05:00

The end of Add/Drop. It’s like the end of Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve or the first note of the wedding march, or April 15 at 12:00 PM for the accountant. It’s over – the good, bad and ugly of it all. I felt like coming home to celebrate. And I did – by sitting on the couch and watching Modern Marvels and eating 5 pecans.

I do hope my husband takes me to see the Lippizzan Stallions. They are in St. Pete this Sunday. I have never gone to see them but have always wanted to. I got a book for Christmas one year called “Album of Horses”. I thumbed through the full-page colorful drawings of the many horse breeds. Each one had an award from me. I kept switching which horse breed got which award…reading the descriptions over and over. Some of my awards were “Most Want to See”, “Most Beautiful Mane”, “Most Want to Have” – the pinto colored mustang always seem to win that one. Another one I think back and laugh about “Most Likely to Throw Me”. I fancied myself a child expert rider.

I still have the book. I still look through it. The Pinto still wins the prize!! Someday Emma! I still dream of having one....and dream of the most frequent winner of the Most Want to See award!

New Year Retribution

2008-01-01T08:52:00.000-05:00

This is the year to pay back to my body for all that it lent out in 2007. Good-bye and good riddance to a year of losses and gains in all the wrong places of life. My life has no figure, no energy, and no exuberance. That will change. I am putting on my battle shoes.

2008 the year of the better fate. I hope next year at this time I am holding a newborn, wearing a 12, reading a book and snuggling next to a non-chewing mature adult dog on my new bomber leather sectional and wondering who to bless with my abundance! Yeah for '08.

Christmas Traditions

2007-12-23T10:16:00.000-05:00

Kind of interesting. Traditions at Christmas are like playing telephone through the years. I look back - my parents go to church every Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. They start Christmas around the 19th of December. Epiphany is when the tree comes down. They open gifts on Christmas Eve. They talk about their parents - my father is the son of a Lutheran minister. You don't say preacher when you are Lutheran - you say minister - or pastor. Their lives were spent in the church on Christmas. My mother used to wake up on Christmas morning and her living room was transformed by Christmas decorations and a tree.....that was the Christmas surprise - the tree. I still have some of the decorations from her tree as a child. My grandmother Karol told me one time that she put out shoes for Saint Nicholas when she was little and looked forward to an orange in December.

My family celebrated Advent - we did that with our children - and now my grandchildren know Advent and its meaning better than I. This is good. I am beginning to learn the value of tradition. Also the value of creating tradition. Like taking part of the past and making a future..or the future sitting in the past's lap and enjoying the now of Christmas.

This Christmas morning, Bill and I relished in the traditions of our family....and noticed our children and their wives are making some of their own. Like playing telephone....we look forward to enjoying the outcome---- at each home --- as babies are born, toddlers are taught, children participate, teens are coaxed to remember, young adults want to go back, and married couples create their own from the pieces whispered in their hearts years ago.

My baby Ebbie

Christmas photos

Starting Over

2007-12-16T09:10:00.000-05:00

A week has passed – Opie’s memory forever stays in a corner of my heart…but the empty hole was too big. I knew that at Christmas I would have a long two+ week break and wouldn’t have another for a year. So despite the fact that it was hard I decided to get another baby. Not a poodle…..all I would say is you are not Opie.

Probably the loss was even more poignant because this is our first Christmas without Bill’s parents. Both died this year…so even more so we need some cheer in the house.

So I got a mini-schnauzer. She’s very calm and sweet gentle feminine personality. Her first night she slept all night right next to me on her pillow. She has been a wonderful boost for Buster. I awoke in the night and saw them sleeping nose-to-nose. Her name is Ebbie.

Jon and Sarah went with me to look at her. I was sure that I would reject even the wiles of a puppy – but I was wrong! She wiggled and squiggled her way home to the Bucklew household.

Not much else I have going on – can’t wait to be home for two weeks.!

Introducing Ebbie - the heart-warmer

breath

2007-12-09T15:19:00.000-05:00

Ancient philosophy views breath as the silver cord that holds the body and the spirit together. When the breath of a living creature exhales its last, the soul is freed from the body to find its way to the afterlife. The philosophy is not so unfounded in Scriptural truth.

Right away in Genesis 1:30 we see that God defines creatures as those that have the breath of life – these are the birds of the air and all the creatures that move on the ground. In just a few short verses we learn what the breath of life does. Genesis 2:7 says we become living.

My little Opie gave up his breath today. He was five years old. My loyal, loving little man – all 5 and a half pounds of him – snippy bark, gray dimming little eyes and all. God has him in his hand. Job 12:10 “In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.” Later Job says it is the breath of the Almighty that actually gives life.

In this way man and animal are the same. Ecclesiastes 3:19 “Man's fate is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; man has no advantage over the animal.” We all live and die by the silver cord of the breath of God.

So here is what I surmise. Man and animal have the same breath of God in them. When God inhales his breath returns to him. Man’s soul is released to eternity, man’s breath returns to God, man’s body returns to the earth. The soul-less animal’s breath returns to God, his body to the earth. Then God – the giver of life exhales – a long deep breath…the earth brings forth life in the design of himself – the Maker of everything. The man’s soul is created; the baby is born and breathes – a testimony to the life-giving nature of the Almighty. The animal is born ready to give to man and earth a breathing living part of God as designed for its kind – a puppy, a kitty, a lion, an eagle to demonstrate to all that exists the true and multi-faceted nature of the one and only God.

So we experience little Opies in our lives. A part of God that touches us as none other can. And when breath is gone – we wait. We wait to experience His presence in our grief and loss of his breath in our lives. We wait to experience his exhaling nature again.

Thankful

2007-11-24T15:48:00.000-05:00

I am thankful. I really am. The holiday weekend was full of family activity; too much food, 10 year old grandson jokes, Ken and Claiborne’s baskets full of pretty things and pies and waggedy tails, and my niece with her 9 week old princess. My baby boy (now 27)held her, awkwardly at best - one of the few pictures without 10 year old fingers in front of the camera.

I still have the shingles, can’t sleep for the pain, slipped and fell flat on my tu-tu cracking my neck, and didn’t have a working oven for turkey or bread…my favorite smell’s this time of year. But I did have a tea party my Emma grandest-daughter hosted - without asking mom. It was so worth going. She asked me later at the big 84th birthday dinner for my Dad, “Tell me how my tea party made you feel. Was it refreshing?”

Sometime that day the phone rang, Tessa’s husband calling from Bagdad – he’s in the heavy artillery unit – been there five weeks. She is brave for him – she hears it in his voice though – the longing to be home that waivers across the airway – thousands of miles away yet so intimately near. It fills me with tears – tears of gratitude for others who gave over this past two centuries or so to make this nation what it is - something that makes selfless men out of selfish young boys.

Bill prayed so elegantly – we forget what America has done for the world – we wouldn’t forget if Hitler had won. I am thankful. I really am.

If it isn't the fence it's the shingles!

2007-11-10T17:48:00.000-05:00

My skin felt so sensitive that I could not stand for my shirt or pants to touch it. My back was aching like a kidney infection or like someone was pressing their foot deep into my muscle. It came around the front like a labor pain striking a blow.

I thought for sure my skin had stretched so far with my weight gain that the very molecular structure of it was pulling apart and soon it would stretch – like a rubber band – to the breaking point and snap. It must be my weight!

But then I begin to think about rubber bands. You know people are like rubber bands. When they are at rest they are basically useless…just hanging around. When they are stretched they become useful – even indispensable. Maybe skin is like a rubber band…no maybe it is like people….or no maybe it isn’t. So enough of that thought train.

My mind found no end to its bizarre thought rides as I wondered what this painful burning on the surface of my skin was from. A niacin flush gone wild – a skin eating bacteria that shows no sign of its ravaging effects until one morning you wake up with a hole in your side.

Finally on Wednesday, a blistering stinging rash appeared and my bizarre thoughts sucked themselves in – all to a condensed focused point – I had the shingles. Oh the pain. Got some medicine from the doctor and a healthy dose of pity.

Went to work Friday. Thought I would suffer through it quietly and survive till the weekend when I could rest. I walked into the office, greeted my office supervisor and the first thing I heard myself say (before I could swoop it back in my mouth.)…”Did you know people are like rubber bands?” And that led to you know what.

I love sympathy when I deserve it.

Blocking Progress

2007-11-03T13:59:00.000-04:00

I wish I worked in an industry where you could pick and choose what jobs you do, when you do it, and for how much you will lift your little skilled fingers. It has taken no less than two weeks and 23 phone calls to get quotes on mending my fence. I did a write up to justify everything and put every expense I could think of in there…hoping for top dollar from the insurance company of the drunk who ran into the fence. I finally sent the list of quotes off Thursday night and on Friday I got a quote in the mail from a concrete company that was oh – 7 days late - that would have netted me an additional - oh $500 - from the insurance company, My timing is off this week.

I missed breakfast with the president of our college – another timing issue I wish I could erase. She was ticked – and rightfully so.

The best part of this week has been the weather. I love November in Florida. It is like the coming out of a Wisconsin spring – only different – not as fresh, lovely, amazing. Okay never mind – it is not at all like the coming out of a Wisconsin spring. But the breeze feels great through the house and the passionate heart-swelling evening skies never miss their timing.

Thanksgiving is coming. I look so forward to a houseful of loved ones. Our pups have their fall haircut…should be long enough in December through February to keep them from shivering. I ate cinnamon crème stuffed pancakes this morning to celebrate.

A New Fence

2007-10-19T13:17:00.000-04:00

It was 2:22 am when the call came. The caller asked if I had the house for sale off Pipkin Road. All I could think was, “This is blogworthy! A house sale call in the middle of the night.” I tried to wake up enough to sound as though a call for the house was not unusual at 2:22 am. “Yes…” He was breathing heavily and obviously outside on a cell phone. Suddenly fear gripped my hair follicles and I realized I was in a hotel in Orlando and my husband was snoring in our bed, vulnerable to this quacko.

Did he have a gun? Was he going to rob us and shoot Opie? (Opie is my 4 pound poodle love.) Okay. Okay. My second thought was ….or my hubbie? How can I warn him while I keep this quacko on the phone?

He continued, “Someone just crashed into your back fence and I think you had better get out here now.” As fast as the hair went up – it went down. I called Bill – 2:26 am. He was up and had taken one of his 11 trusty flashlights out in the back yard and discovered the shocking mess.

Both dogs having been counted as safe, he blocked their exit. Not to worry, Buster the wonder dog was hiding behind the blanket making his barking-growling-howling noises. Hubbie went out to meet the FHP and get the scoop on the now abandoned vehicle.

All in all, this registrar’s conference in Orlando must have been providence. It would have made a terrible night for the hubbie had I been home and experienced it all first-hand. He is much braver than I.

So – I guess we get a new fence. That is interesting, exciting, annoying, and inconvenient. But I think I will put lights on a new fence for Christmas. Yeah!

Monster Truck

2007-10-13T15:10:00.000-04:00

Well, I had to make sure that everyone around me knew that I did not usually come to these kinds of events. For some reason they all found it funny. It was intermission. I was talking through my sweater that I was holding over my nose. It stunk like – why do we study cow farts and their impact on the environment? Why don’t we study monster truck fumes and THEIR impact?

My grandson Andrew was finding the evening full of exciting moments – big tires crushing cars, revving the engines, racing each other over the likes of dying vans, old dodges and fords – all spray painted baby blue with flying beer flags all over them. We were in the second row. We could feel the force of the crush as the monster tire on the monster truck made pancakes of them all. The truck shells looked so odd on top of all that metal - a combobulation of springs, exhaust pipes, and suspension stuff. As they reared in the air and roared their underbellies were impressive.

We had to stand up and throw our hands in the air and cheer for “Geter Done” and “Wild Thang” and “Monster Patrol”. I saw Andrew’s veins in the side of his neck – his face was all red and his eyes fierce – full of manliness as he cheered the tilting and bobbling trucks on. Grampy just took it all in with quiet laughter – pleased with Drew’s enthusiasm.

Motor cyclists performed daring high jumps with their bikes – one did a complete flip with motor cycle and all. I heard Andrew scream “AWESOME” – but all I could think is I hope you don’t kill yourself young man.

We got autographs. That was really cool for Drew. All in all a good fun night with the Drew. But I will never go again!

Don’t – I Mean Donut

2007-10-05T19:17:00.000-04:00

I have been out of town for four days at a software consortium meeting. That is boring. The good part is I got to spend time with three ladies I work with. Women talk about such different things than men. Last time I was with two men from work. Men talk about the menu – “Well, look at that – they’ve got a buffalo burger here!” “Yeah, ever eaten at Wing House – gotta love that buffalo sauce!” while rubbing his belly. They spend four days together eating each evening together - and don’t even know each other’s names.

Women are different. We hardly had time to order because within five minutes of sitting down we were deep in conversation about caring for a dying mother and the pain of divorce. We know how many kids we each have, how many siblings, what we are allergic too, how we are handling menopause, out philosophy on exercise and our latest diet challenges. And…we share a triple decker chocolate chip cookie ice cream mountain.

It must have done something to my female hormones. In 24 hours I have gone from wanting to quit work, to wanting to be old and die, to wanting to get off my butt and exercise – to wanting to eat a dozen glazed raised donuts.

I guess you know what I did. But honestly there were only three – not a dozen!!! I hate female hormones when they betray me!

The Witness

2007-09-29T17:22:00.000-04:00

I decided a few years ago that I would read through the Bible in a year. I have started many times but get lost somewhere between the Numbers. (My attempt at a pun.) So – when I took this traveling consultant job two years ago, I thought flying was the perfect captured moment to begin. With new Ipod in hand and the voice of an English theatre veteran…..“In the beginning…..” it began.

It is amazing what you actually hear when you listen for an hour or so at a time. The stories flow with meaning and sense. God is also frightening in the Old Testament. I have a new understanding of what the fear of the Lord is. Through many flights and many flight mishaps that left me overnight in who-knows-where, I made it. I finished the whole Bible in one year and one month and one week.

Well, for me, it is not enough to have accomplished it or even be in the process of accomplishing it. I have to do something with it to make it meaningful. (I hate that about myself.) Also, perhaps that little girl in me wants to say, “See everybody, see what I am doing. See what I did!” so they can all say, “Congratulations, little Kathy! You did a great job!” (I can just hear my Grandma Karol saying that….even about the worst craft in the 5th grade vacation bible school!)

So – I decided I would use it as a witnessing tool. Sitting next to some businessman clunking at his computer with two rapid fingers as he verbosely keys emails that are going nowhere until we land, I say,” I am trying to listen to the Bible in a year! Kind of interesting when you hear a long stretch of it.” “Humph!” He stops long enough to size me up. I put on my earphones, and feeling a lot like Ellen DeGenres, I try another tactic. I put my hand to my ear and say loudly, “Oh my gosh! I never heard that before!” He taps my shoulder. I act as though I do not mind being interrupted from my engrossment, “Yes?” I say as innocently as I can. Then I realize the battery signal on his computer is flashing which means he has nothing to do now so he is ready to talk. “I don’t believe in God – really. I find the Bible full of contradictions.”

“Wow. You don’t believe in God. That fascinates me. What do you do with yourself when you feel alone, afraid, vulnerable, like a failure? I cannot imagine facing those moments without God.”

“I take myself by my bootstraps and give myself a swift kick in the pants and say get up buddy and take life by the horns. Then I indulge myself with something fun.”

“Does that work for you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Wow, I tell myself that no matter where I go, God is always with me and I look for something good to do for someone else – that does it for me every time.”

“I do a lot of good in this world. I usually live right. If there is a god that should cover me.”

“Sounds like a kid on an ocean liner who says, “I am usually a good swimmer. I have been in my pool a lot this year. I should be able to jump overboard and be alright.”

“I don’t get that analogy at all. It makes no sense to me.”

“I am not good with analogies. All I know is that with everything in me I know the God of the Bible is real and I will be with Him in eternity.”

“Well goodie for you.”

SILENCE……

“Are we done with the God conversation? I mean, I usually don’t do well telling people how I feel about God. I am kind of – well – I prefer to live a Godly life and let folks ask me what’s my secret.”

“So you are embarrassed to be a Christian? I would be.”

This is not going well. “No – I just hate saying all the same things that all Christians say to people they are trying to “evangelize” (I do the hand quotation thingy in the air) – because it sounds fake – but I know that it is not fake. How do you tell someone about something that is real when he has heard it a thousand times before and not believed it? That is my problem. I am just not creative or persuasive.”

“Now you have my attention.”

With amazing words and just the right scripture from any book of the Bible you can think of I bring this man to his knees before God. Well – if we didn’t have on seat belts he would have been on his knees.

The next thing I know, we have to put the seat backs up and the steward is saying “Miss-Miss! Wake up!” Darn – none if it was real and I missed the entire book of Lamentations. The man next to me was snoring. Oh well. I cannot even do something with my accomplishment in my dreams.

So I started again this year. New job, new opportunities – less chance of falling asleep at the wheel driving back and forth to Winter Haven. I am “reading” the Bible in a year. I am at Deuteronomy.

Okay! Okay!

2007-09-26T20:44:00.000-04:00

Okay okay already. I give in to the pressure to express myself. Whatever the heck that means! So I will start by experimenting on blog design, discreet photo reveals, fonts and formatting. I also won’t tell a soul I started writing a blog. You see my daughter puts me to shame. She not only writes bounteously – she writes well. Even my granddaughter at almost 7 wrote a lovely poem about fall…deeper thoughts than I had at her age. Her poem is – well – here read it FALL . Mine was simply

I see a star in the sky
In the sky so high
so high.
It's shining so bright,
It's the prettiest in sight.
Oh star of heaven - star of might
You are the prettiest star I see tonight!

Well, hmmm...now that I SEE it - I don't think it is all that bad. I was actually in the 2nd grade so I was one year older than Emma. It was my first poem - and it must have meant something to me because I still remember it and the 7 or was it 8 year old passion I felt as I said it over and over to my parakeet.

Oh goodness. I am done - good-night!