oh blessed day, Pt. 1

It might look like I have been on YouTube a lot recently, but actually, it is just complete coincidence that I am sharing videos with you all of a sudden.  I received an email forward today that maybe a lot of you have received, the one about the "Invisible Mother."  In fact, I think I have had it emailed to me before, since it was familiar, and I decided to see if I could quickly hunt down the original (knowing how stories get changed in email forwards, like playing "telephone").  My search led me to this video, of the author sharing the complete story in her own words:



Oh, I needed to hear that today, a day that had so much good in it, but which was also so frustrating for me in what I wanted/needed it to be. 

I started a long post, but decided the ideas in it worked much better in snippets, of which I am growing fond.

So this video will suffice to give you a peek into the longings of my heart as I write now--that I be faithful and true to the work given me, and do it in the full knowledge that it will someday come to fruition, someday be beautiful, someday be a standing testament to the neverfailing Love of God.  But do it also knowing that my strivings matter. Not just for what they will someday bring show, but for what they are now--each wiped crumb, each folded T-shirt, each patient correction--part of a secret language between me and God, in which we whisper, "I love you."

the little things make me happy

I came across this a while back--its not the greatest quality, but that is part of its charm. It is an impromptu video taken on the streets of Copenhagen back in 1988.



It seems Bruce Springsteen was walking around the city a few hours before he was to perform a concert. He somehow got to talking with this street artist named Jón Magnússon, who goes by JoJo, and they ended up playing together for a small crowd that gathered.

Here is what makes me smile:
--a big name artist enjoying walking around the city by himself
--and playing for people, for free, just for the pure fun of it.
--But best of all is JoJo, who is so giddy from delight he is about to bust out of his own skin.
--And he is so excited he is clearly not singing his best,  but he does it anyway, with gusto
--and lots of dancing.
--And The Boss does not seem to notice the imperfections, treating JoJo as his equal throughout the song, and truly sharing the moment with him. 

I love it when we get glimpses of the best, and the most vulnerable, and humble, and gracious, and generous sides of people.

Mexican Chicken Noodle Soup

So, after being on another groccery boycott (I think this one lasted about a month, with the help of the in-laws bringing some of their garden bounty to share with us, and with Costco for milk and bread runs), I have been getting creative in the kitchen again.  It's fun!  And sometimes, cooking with limited ingredients ends up inspiring a new dish that is really yummy, like this one I did the other night, when I was out of garlic and onion and all fresh veggies except some last spicy peppers:

Mexican Chicken Noodle Soup

In large pot, saute in olive oil 1 med-large pepper, diced (not sure what kind, medium green color, long and thin, mildly spicy).

Add:
1 can Trader Joe's chicken
1-2 cans diced tomatoes
2-3 cans black beans, rinsed and drained
what seems to be the appropriate amount of water
a healthy dose of ground cumin

Bring to boil, then add:
frozen corn (Trader Joe's roasted version is PERFECT)
whole wheat spaghetti, broken into approx. 1 inch pieces*

Stir occasionally to keep spaghetti from clumping.  When spaghetti is done, turn off heat and add a liberal helping of dried oregano.

When ready, add lots of black pepper.  Serve in bowls and add fresh chopped avocado on top. 

-------------------------------
When I stood in front of the fridge that night looking at what I had and thinking of my options, I was unsure how I would get a lot of flavor in whatever I cooked without garlic or onion.  That is why I finally opted for Mexicanish food--the sauted pepper and the roasted corn added the pungent flavor base I needed.  And the fresh avocado was the crowning touch! 

But this idea is so versatile, so you can run with pretty much whatever you have on hand!  Without the fresh pepper, I could have used canned green chilis, or jarred salsa.  If I did not have noodles, I could have used rice.  If I did not have avocado, I could have used tomato sauce instead of canned tomatoes, and then added fresh diced tomato on top.  Or sour cream. 
 
The two keys to the soup's success: having the pungent flavor, and not adding too much water.  The crowning touch was the contrast between the black pepper and cool fresh avocado.

I did not add salt, since all the canned goods had salt in them. If you were cooking entirely from scratch, you would need salt.


*Easy breaking spaghetti method: hold a small bunch of the spaghetti in your left hand, over the pot to catch little bits that may drop. With your left hand, push the spaghetti into your right hand as far as the first knuckle on your thumb, then with that thumb break off the spaghetti at that length, and just let go with your right hand to drop it into the pot under you.  Then repeat. Very fast and easy this way!

Random Snippets: c

Dedicated to Susan, who after seeing this may not mind the trees clapping their hands quite so much.



Ahhhhh, the early '80's and primitive Christian Rock.

Random snippets: b

b is for bleeding. again. and again.

After having my third period in 23 days, I'm pretty much over that whole romanticized celebrating my womanhood thing.

And speaking of which, after I made that post I alternated between being completely mortified that I had blogged about my menstruation (in public!  to strangers!  and to people who know me IRL--don't know which is worse!) and being emboldened by the cathardic nature of writing and "being real."  I figured those who have distain for such TMI would stop reading after they were warned off in in the first paragraph, and those who read the whole thing could not possibly blame me for their own stubborn perseverance.  I did wonder--not for the first time since blogging--if I had crossed some kind of "nice blogger" line.  But then I had two people make a point of telling me how much they appreciated/enjoyed that piece.  One friend even said it was one of my best.  Awwww, thanks, friends!  Um, next time would be mind saying that in the comments, so everyone does not think I'm blogging to the sound of crickets chirping uncomfortably? ; )

Just so that no one is worried, it is time for my annual this next month anyway, so I'll be meeting with the ob/gyn to talk about solutions.

In the meantime, I am finding each time is a little different, with different, often dramatic results.  Like the huge temper tantrum I threw last time (i.e. 2 weekends ago) in which I actually kicked the laundry hamper and slammed the front door on my way out.  Ever weirder was the fact that a little voice in my head the whole time was saying things like, "Huh. Did I really just do that?!" and "Hey, this feels good."

It all started because DH and I had a disagreement about how much fat in milk was appropriate for children. Which just goes to prove that the ensuing argument and temper tantrum had nothing whatsoever to do with milk.  I won't bore you with all the things it really was about, but this might be a good time to recommend a really good book I read this past summer when I went back home for a week:  "For Women Only: What You Need to Know About the Inner Lives of Men" by Shaunti Feldham.  One of those books that I did not think would be very interesting or helpful in marital insight and which actually was amazingly true and so liberating and encouraging.  Reading it, I saw how I was inadvertently getting the exact opposite of what I wanted from my husband/marriage because of some of the things I was doing that were sending messages to my husband that I did not mean.  Some people don't think their marriages are like "average" marriages and so such a book would not be true for them; I dunno, it sure connected a lot of dots for me, and I used to think DH and I were "special."  I would highly recommend it to any wife who is frustrated and feels like she does not "get" her husband and he does not "get" her.

The author co-wrote a second book with her husband, "For Men Only."  I'm not finding that one to be as eye-opening--more like, "well, duh."  But maybe that is the point--our internal lives seem so logical, so easily understandable, to us women.  If DH gets around to reading that one, it will be interesting to talk about it and see if any of the ideas were relevatory for him.

Random snippets: a

There are so many things floating around in my head I want to blog about. I have mentioned before that ideas get stuck up there and keep circling, circling, like all that plastic in the north Pacific gyre, never escaping, never completely dying away. . . . Really, as I tell DH, I blog mainly to maintain some hold on my sanity. Parenting and homeschooling sucking most of my mental abilities, then the flotsam clogs up the rest--gotta get it out somehow! Lucky you. ; )

So I'm going to make this a snippets week--to release little odds and ends that have been swimming around up in there. . . (and so I can have the fun of blogging without having the pressure of making coherent, fully-fleshed out ideas.)

a)
I love old-fashioned books.  The ones with charming characters, timeless stories, quaint attitudes and wholesome values (which usually match up with my values too!), details which bring the past to life, and lovely old-timey artwork.  The Secret Garden.  The Railway Children.  All-Of-A-Kind Family.  Gone Away Lake.  Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm.  A Little Princess.

There is very little contemporary literature that can compare with these works in the quality of the storytelling and the value of the ideas within.  The best I have come across are The Mistmantle Chronicles.  And The House of Thirty Cats.  The Penderwicks comes close. 

But I have realized there is one drawback to my children being reared on mostly old-fashioned books:  their vocabulary shows it.  Usually this is charming.  Sometimes, it is pretty funny.  Earlier this year Sunny wrote a poem about Spring, in which I required her to assign a feeling to the season.  The resulting poem:

Spring is Gay

A Five Senses Poem

Gay is the color of shining yellow.

Gay sounds like robins singing.

It feels like a loving hug from my Mom.

It smells like fresh honey and jasmine blossoms.

Gay tastes like pancakes drenched with syrup and berries.

So unfortunate how her word choice distracts the reader from fully appreciating her lovely imagery.  But I could not bear to tell her not to use the word, since she was technically using it in its original sense.  Why spoil the word for her just yet?  And while we talk a lot about the things of this world, we have not yet deally delved into the topic of homosexuality.  We know some families who have two mommies or two daddies, so at some point her own observations and thinking will bring the topic up for discussion.  But until then, no need to get into unnecessary explainations about political appropriations of language. . . .

But the other day came another classic.  Happy was telling me about how Smiley loves a certain little red rooster toy, which they taught him to call "Cock."  I did a good job keeping a straight face while she was telling me about it, but it was hard: "Smiley loves his Cock.  He loves to hold his Cock.  Whevever I am holding his Cock, he wants it and hollers at me, 'Cock! Cock!'  He gets mad if he does not have Cock."

Etc.

When I told DH about it, he blamed me.  I protested my innocence, and thought about where Happy would have heard that word in a book. . . And found the answer in the pages of Mother Goose (a 1999 edition, I might add!):

The cock crows in the morn
To tell us to rise,
And he who lies late
Will never be wise:
For early to bed
And early to rise
Is the way to be healthy
And wealthy and wise.

Accessories for the (Steampunk) Lady: for the Shoulders

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