On the 9th Day of (Blogging About) Christmas, My True Love Gave to Me. . .

My best Real World Steampunk outfit to date!

Look at the so steampunky belt and jacket my Dear Husband got me for Christmas!  Ok, ok, so I did hunt them down on eBay. . . and I did bid, and win them. . . but my Dear Husband earned the money to pay for them, and was happy for me when I found them, and glad for me to buy them--and would not let me open and wear them before Christmas, and did wrap them. . . so technically they are from him.  When I finally did get to wear them I was so excited to find they went so perfectly with the blouse and skirt I have had for years, but which I really did not have things to wear with.  The boots are also something I have been meaning to share with you for a while--they are waterproof leather too, so I have one really practical and comfortable and neo-Victorian church boot!  If you enjoy fashion or want to know more,  I did blog about the outfit and boots more over at Minnie Zephie's Steampunk Treasure Trunk.

But my Dear Husband also did give me gifts that came directly from his hands and heart.  The first I want to mention happened during First Christmas (Second), when we were opening our stockings.  Some of you might remember me writing previously about a new tradition he and I started a couple of years ago--putting things in one another's Christmas stockings we find around the house that represent things we are thankful for or appreciate about the other person.  This year DH did the usual wooden spoon, representing liking me cooking for our family, and several other symbolic little things--but there were two in particular that made me cry.  First, he put in a crumpled piece of math scratch paper one of the kids had thrown away.  When I held it up quizzically, he said he was really glad I was homeschooling our kids.  Cue tears!  This meant soooooo much to me--he was a reluctant homeschool dad, and can tend to worry and be unintentionally critical, mainly because we have different expectations of "success" and "progress." So that token of encouragement in my stocking was so meaningful!  The second one was a little bit of yellow yarn--I immediately recognized it as one of the pieces of "straw" from our Advent manger, which I have previously written about here.  But what could it mean?  My Dear Husband told me it meant he was thankful for my Christmas traditions that have become our family traditions.  Cue tears again!  Esp. after what I shared in my post about the origin of First Christmas, in this post, that was such a sweet and encouraging and significant thing to say to me.

Then DH gave me another gift, after that--it was not technically a Christmas present, but it was a gift all the same, and a big one at that.  Some years ago, we started a holiday tradition by accident--my dear Becky and I had some evening event (probably a SoulKitchen core leaders meeting) to attend mid-December, and her husband was going to be out of town, so we asked DH if he would be willing to take care of her kids as well as ours for the evening.  We sweetened the deal by suggesting they all watch Christmas specials (for which DH has a particular fondness) and have pizza and cocoa and popcorn (all of which DH enjoys), which the mommies would get ready in advance.  So that's what we all did, and the kids loved it so much that the next year they begged to do it again.  So we did, and that time Becky and I went out for a rare girls' night.  Then last year I remember she and I decided to use our night "away" to hang here at my house (the Christmas special-fest traditionally happens at Becky's) and have a gift wrapping party, with a cozy fire, and Josh Groban and Loreena McKennitt playing softly in the background and mugs of Candy Cane Lane tea at hand.  She and I were both tired and stressed, as I recall, but making something we had to do into a  girlfriend event was such a good idea, and the pleasant evening was over much too quickly.

This year we just did not have a chance to do the traditional event before Christmas, much to the disappointment of the kids.  So we made sure to do it as soon as possible after, which turned out to be the Sunday before New Years.   We held the party at our house this year, and arranged it so that Becky and I got to escape for a good five hours, and this year in the company of our mutual friend "Rosa," whose daughter joined the crew here too!  And with that time away we did such decadent girlfriend things--going to see the new movie version of Les Miserables, and then having Indian food after!  The movie, as I am sure you know by now, was fabulous, and the food was great--but it was the relaxed, mind and spirit-synced conversation that I enjoyed the most.

And my Dear Husband really proved himself this time--can you imagine a Daddy having six active little girls inside such a small house for so long?! (It was a cold and rainy day, so they had to be inside--that and it was pitch black outside by 4:30.)  But from what I heard, they played with the plethora of Barbies, and the two youngest--Happy and Mini-Rosa--created a Spook House in the bedroom for the others (which the older kids scoffed at, until DH set the proper mood by turning off all the lights and playing dramatic and sinister-sounding music from the Batman movie soundtrack and then made the girls go in the bedroom one at a time armed with only small flashlights. . . the loudest scoffer of course going first).  They ate the dinner I had prepared and set aside for them.  And of course they watched some vintage holiday specials, ending appropriately with the one about Rudolph helping find the missing baby New Year.  As always, it ended too soon--well, for everyone but DH I imagine ; )--but it was such a fun way to wrap up the holiday season.

All in all, my Dear Husband really went out of his way to be thoughtful and loving and considerate and sacrificial this Christmas.  The warm fuzzies I got from all that are staying with me still.

 Our front door, as Becky and I found it upon our return--festively decorated for Christmas. . . or should that be for the Nightmare Before Christmas?  

Conversation and dishes

(A representation of me and Rosa in the kitchen; 
photo from Father Knows Best.
Yes, He does. ; )

I wanted to write one more thing about the Conversations I was telling you about here.  You see, I'll bet you will be surprised to hear what my absolute favorite part of the three-part series was: doing the dishes!

When I accepted responsibility for the hostessing and desserts, I decided to try to see if we could make these events as waste-free as possible. (With the goal of all SoulKitchen events eventually being almost entirely waste-free, and then using those examples of successful "greening" to encourage our whole church to strive for less waste at church events.) We are so fortunate, because when Vintage Faith first started, it was in partnership with two other churches--Santa Cruz Bible, which birthed it, and the local First Presbyterian church which opened it's campus to share, and then two years later officially joined with Vintage as one body. It is a really beautiful and rather amazing story of churches behaving well, which I won't go into now, but is important simply because when we moved to the First Pres "campus" (really just three buildings, but they are spacious and flexible, and have tons of storage, which has opened up all kinds of ministry and fellowship opportunites, such as the creation of the Abbey coffee lounge), it was an old congregation with all the wonderful acoutrements of old-fashioned church life, like a huge kitchen and loads of official church dishes!

The building which houses the kitchen (and gym) is in sore need of some renovation and all-around loving, and so the kitchen now sees more use for handy-man storage, an impromptu artists' studio, and various church projects than it does anything involving food. It is slightly sawdusty and the floor is drop-clothed and filthy, and you can't get to some of the cupboards easily for the sawhorses and work-spaces in the way--but under the neglect, it is still a wonderful, large, well-designed kitchen, with so many work areas. It is a space that is heavy with nostalgia--such as the large cupboards that Rosa found out the First Pres women used for raising their homemade bread during the service, so then they would be ready for baking after, I assume to then be eaten during some church-wide dinner or fellowship time.  

 I had never really used the kitchen before--but it seemed like the right time to start.  So on the first night of Conversations, I went early and got coffee cups and dessert plates out of the big cupboards (which had been languishing in disuse so long they had to be wiped clean before we could use them) and stacked them on an industrial stainless steel cart with shelves, and wheeled them all to the rooms where we had tables set up and decorated.  We arranged the plates and cups on the table near the coffee and tea, and had a beautiful, welcoming spread for all the ladies who came.  As women were leaving, they just placed their dirty dishes back on the cart, and then my dear Rosa and I wheeled the cart back to the kitchen. 

(Actually, the wheeling to and fro was the only element of the whole endeavor that gave me any trepidation--since we were wheeling the cart outside, around the perimeter of the buildings  on sidewalk that was often slanted for handicapped access.  As the dishes rattled and bumped and slid in subtle increments, Rosa and I would wince, easily imagining the din of kamikaze crockery smashing on the flagstones, thus signaling the end of our "greening" scheme.  I'll brainstorm a more secure transport for the next series of Conversations--but for this last series, the God who keeps his eye on the sparrow was merciful with us and kept his eye on the saucers too.)

Once safely back in the kitchen, we simply wheeled the cart over to the oversized stainless-steel double-sink, well-positioned on an island to be accessible from either side.  One sink filled with hot soapy water, the other with cool rinse water, and the drainboard on the end--the ideal situation for efficient washing up.  (And one of many thoughtful and practical elements that suggest ladies well versed in kitchen duties were instrumental to its design.)  Rosa and I bustled cheerfully about that big, companionable sink for an hour after each night's event--and each time, it was the best part of the whole evening.  Seriously--she and I are good friends, and share the same desire for our church as a whole to be as healthy and sustainable as possible, so the joint activity was natural and satisfying.  But the Conversations we had together there in the kitchen over the big sink of soapy water--they were so deep and special.  We've known each other for years, and yet those nights we learned so much more about each other--real stuff, important stuff.   

(This was us on the inside.)

It was just Rosa and I, late at night in a church kitchen, hands and hearts and words happily engaged.  And yet, there was something else, something almost tangible, heavy in the air as we worked, something whispering in the backs of our minds.  For our little efforts washing dishes--there in the space we had reclaimed in the dirty, uncherished kitchen--seemed symbolic of the overall purpose of SoulKitchen, which is encouraging women to make spaces in their lives for greater depth with God and one another. 

In fact, our official SoulKitchen Vision Statement reads:

SoulKitchen exists to create opportunities for women to know and love God more. To know, love and invest in each other and to study and dialogue about issues of life and faith.  

It is clear how the whole Conversations events so perfectly fit this vision, as I described it in that earlier post--ahhhhh, so beautiful to see our ministry goals fulfilled, so satisfying to see women's needs and desires being met.  It was literal fulfillment of the vision.  But the time I had afterwards, washing dishes with Rosa, felt symbolic of the spiritual fulfillment of the vision.  Those dishes were like us women, created to be used, created to serve, to nourish, to bring pleasure. If we are not being used, if we are not in service, we lose purpose.  We become purposeless.  We might even feel unloved.  Forgotten.  Unappreciated.  Unfulfilled.  

Oh, yes, and there was even symbolism in the very nature of our embracing the kitchen and traditional "women's duties"--long seen in our recent culture as symbols of female oppression and devaluation--and not fearing some kind of diminishment by them.  It is a sad fact that the very social movements that helped women feel restored to public worth stigmatized and decried their life-giving labors in the kitchen.  Doing dishes, especially by hand--esp. in this age of modern conveniences--is considered more than a chore, more like an affront, an offense--and the women who do them pluckless, self-limiting drudges. 

I know of a lot of women who only use disposable plates at home for all their everyday meals--not because they have real reason to, but because somehow the whole idea of dishwashing is beneath them, not worth their time or thought. (And I also know women who use disposable plates regularly who have darn good reason to--I'm not throwing stones at anyone, least of all a mother who sees disposable plates as the last tenuous thread between herself and the abyss of insanity. ; )   

But how sad, that such a simple and instantly gratifying task has become so denigrated.  And how--because of the same mentality spreading to churches of disposable dishes seeming to be an acceptable (and even preferrable) substitute for physical acts of kitchen service--the bountiful resource of the church kitchen has fallen into disfavor and disuse.  But to what extent might our waste of such material resources mirror an unsustainability of our modern spiritual life--that we are taking our freedoms and blessings too much for granted, and the focus of our service is very subtly ourselves?  That we are missing out on the blessings that come hand-in-hand with cheerful labor done unto the Lord?  That we are missing the concept that any task necessary to the fullness of church life is not a burden, but a grace-exuberant opportunity to participate in, choose even, our daily renewal.     

And what other humble kitchen task but washing dishes could so perfectly reflect the purifying of the spirit by immersion in the Spirit? 

So, for all these reasons, starting off this new ministry to women by freeing those dishes from the cupboards, rinsing them clean, putting them in the worthwhile service for which they were created--it gave the labor such a subtle, beautiful hint of redemption.  Of restoration.  Of rejuvination.  Our few hours of washing and rinsing and drying and stacking were holy service, truly Souls in the Kitchen, so retro and so divine. 

As I wrote in an email to the SoulKitchen leaders later, I can see word leaking out, other women getting a whiff of something intriguing, something appealing, something special happening in the kitchen--and them wanting to be in the kitchen too.  : )  As they should--it's truly the best part of the whole shebang.  Coming to a Conversation, being fed, being heard--that is so good.  Leaving a Conversation with a desire for more, for going deeper, for being fully Used in the service of Love, for seeking ways to give ourselves over to the Spirit for renewal--that is so, so, so, so Good. 

I thanked my fellow SoulKitchen ladies for humoring me in my "green" urges.  I'm not just being on some environmental band-wagon--there is so much meaning in that kitchen time, which we as sisters in service should strive to reclaim as a whole body (body of women, church body), for growing our fellowship and increasing our praise.

I also stressed to my SK sisters that I was NOT saying they all had to have the same values, or think they "should" help in the kitchen.  No guilt or nothing here!  Same goes for any of you women in ministry (or in your homes) looking at your paper plates. ; )  I just wrote all this to share how using one of my Gifts (serving) in combination with one of my personal values (going greener) behind the scenes in service to God and His daughters felt SO GOOD.  That is what I want to encourage in all of us!  Regardless of how (or whether or not) God has already brought us to whatever ministries He deemed fit, He might have special new, little areas for each of us to step out in and really bloom!

My sisters in spirit, this is my prayer for all of you!  Be creative, listen to the nudging of the Spirit, think about what is most important to you, and then do a little something to bless others.  It cannot help but bless you too.

And local readers (Jen, I'm talking to you!)--if you hear about the next round of Conversations, likely happening at the beginning of summer, please consider coming! 

(And nobody worry that I'm going to drag you into the kitchen afterwards. It's an invite only scene--but if the Holy Spirit invites you, you are more than welcome! : )

on Hot Mom Syndrome

I read a very interesting blog article today, linked from one of the blogs I read, on what the blogger calls "Hot Mom Syndrome."  (And as I typed that my fingers slipped and I ended up with "Sindrome," which is in itself food for thought!) 

I used to be much "hotter" than I am now, and remember being aware of men's occassional looks, and wanting those looks.  Very occassional looks, but hey, you take what you can get. Even after having my second baby I was lookin' pretty good--at least with my clothes on.  But then baby #3 seemed to be the one that tipped everything over the scale, and esp. after baby #4 (and now at 40 years old) I have gained lumps and bulges where we think there shouldn't be, and I've lost a few pretty lumps where we think they should be.  I'm a thin woman, yes, but thin does not = sexy.  No, I can't pretend any more that I am anything but a thin, middle-aged frump, who can sometimes dress up real nice, but is what she is.  I have no illusions.  I like dressing to feel good about myself, so do enjoy chosing comfortable but hopefully flattering clothes, and accessories to help me feel a few years less than ancient.  But never do I fool myself nowadays into thinking that any man finds me attractive--including my husband, which is why that post from blogger Christine hit me so hard.  (And why I also appreciated the beautiful follow-up to that post a few days later on her blog, that is well worth reading.)

But really, being completely insecure about my aging post-partum body is just the flip side of the same issue those self-proclaimed "Hot Moms" are working through.  They are trying to get a grasp on their sense of self-worth, and are using the values of the world to determine it.  I have done this same thing at different times in my adult life, through taking pride in being "sexy" after having two kids (it was a very short-lived phase, by the way), and through wearing my uber-cool job of teaching film studies as a badge to somehow prove to anyone I met that I was more intelligent and interesting than I seemed otherwise. ; ) 


So just because I have no illusions of being a Hot Mom, and tisk tisk at the whole Hot Mom Syndrome, I know I am no better than they are.  I am still struggling with discovering/being content with my identity as me, the Blessed created by holy Design.  Jesus Christ is the core of that--without Him, I would be a very different person, and could not even come close to claiming the fullness of Self that is only possible in Him, and through the redeeming work of the Holy Spirit in me.  But that does not mean that I, myself, somehow get swallowed up in some corporate Christian identity, and have no worthwhile identity outside of that.  No, God made me, His unique Blessed creation, just the way He wanted to.  There is value in me, just as I am created.  There is beauty in me, just as I am, and in my worn body that reflects a bounty of life-giving.  There is intelligence and creativity and wisdom in me too, that is hopefully seen in my life, in how I respond to the challenges of daily living.  (Notice I did not say perfection--far from it!  But all these things are growing in me, daily.) The world does not see these things the way God sees them, and certainly cannot value them as God does.  So I need to keep working on seeing and valuing the way God does--only then can I really see myself, value myself. 

Looking up old posts to link while writing just now, I was surprised and a little chagrined to remember one of my very first posts on this blog, which perfectly demonstrates that looking for and finding my identity and sense of self-worth through God's eyes and not the world's eyes will be part of my life's journey. 

Then again, there's nothing wrong with receiving a well-intentioned compliment, and letting the warmth from any positive human interaction to spread to your soul.  : )  If it is a sin to need so badly to be a sexual object for self-worth, then it is surely an equal sin to denounce my physical self as worthless, as unsexy.  It's a sin against God, against my husband, against femininity, against motherhood, against myself. 


That's what Christine's posts were about--why her posts were encouraging women to see ourselves as sexy, as Smokin' Hot Mamas.  There is beauty, healing, grace in claiming that title when the world (and that little demon of sneering self-doubt in our minds) says we should not.  This is not vanity--this is another form of laying our selves on the altar for Christ.  Another way we give over living lies and instead claim Truth.  Another way we accept His redemption for our bodies/spirits.  Another way we embrace life fully, being content and thankful with what we have been given, and using whatever we have been given to bless others.

(No, really, me embracing my Smokin' Hot Servant of the Lord side has huge ramifications.  Sure, it blesses me and my husband.  It has resulted in four kids, who will hopefully be a blessing to the world. But even the way I view myself will affect my three girls, and the way they view themselves--a view which they might then pass on to their daughters!  The way I view myself might affect other women, who read this blog, or who are friends IRL.  I can easily believe that our distorted view of the world/ourselves in the world's eyes can have a ripple effect, spreading out and very subtly damaging so many aspects of our lives and ministries.

My heart goes out to those Hot Moms.  There but for the grace of God go I.

gripes and gratitude

A little update, again.

It is just so hard to get my brain going to write these days--mainly because I have been sleeping so poorly. I started this post yesterday, and here's hoping I can get it done in one sitting.*
 
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(Grousing to commence--you have been warned ; )

Allergies continue to rampage, and it is so weird how every day is different than the day before.  My nose's functionality comes and goes throughout the day.  But generally I have been blessed with one good nostril most of this week.  Except for the night before last, which was a complete nightmare.  It felt like my sinuses were packed with play-dough, and all night long I felt like I was smothering and could not breathe.  (I was sleeping flat on my back, since that has been the only position to help breathing since the allergies started, but I think something was occassionally clogging my throat--phlegm?  collapsing soft palate?  Satan?--and I would start choking and gasping, not able to breathe at all.  UGH.)  But I was so tired I was not awake enough to do anything about it, and would just have terrible dreams and kept waking up choking. . . finally in the wee hours of the morning I woke up--mouth so parched I could not close it until I drank some water--and at that point was lucid enough to stack some pillows behind me to elevate my  upper body and then put a damp handkerchief over my mouth so I could breathe moist air through that long enough to fall asleep.  It worked, but overall it was a horrible night's sleep.  So horrible that being awake almost seemed like a better option, but I did get to sleep a little more, and was thankful for those last few hours of sleep when a little boy slipped into bed with me and so the day began in earnest. (And what a sweet way to wake up too. : )

Last night I had one good nostril again, Praise the Good Lord Jesus, and would have slept well--except DH and I went to bed a little too late, and he got up at 5:30 to go to a men's breakfast.  Bless his heart, those of you who know him know what a crazy sacrifice that was.  But unfortunately, since it was pitch black outside, he was turning on lights in here while getting ready for work, and so I was awake until he left around 6:30.  Ugh.  And since it was a day of early classes, I did not get to sleep as long as usual anyway, and had to wake everyone up at 7:30.  So, I'm feeling pretty crappy today after two shortened nights of sleep--neckache from sleeping elevated, backache from I don't know what, heachachy. . . ok, I promise that is the last you will hear me gripe about allergies this season.

But, on the other hand, after that night of horror, all throughout the next day when I would feel the sweet, sweet sensation of air sweeping through one good nostril, I was so grateful, my every exhale was like a prayer of thanksgiving.  I know you all think how she does go on about one good nostril, but I am serious about what a huge blessing this is for me. I love being reminded of how such a little thing is really such a big thing, and being reminded of how much I am dependent upon it for a good life, and how thankful I am that I usually have it.

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And actually, this morning turned out pretty great!  Mainly because when the eldest two are away at class (the LitWits "bus"--aka my dear Becky--picked them up, another thing for which I am extremely grateful, esp. on a morning when I am so bone dead), Mommy takes the morning off from homeschool and gets a chance to blog while the younger two play nicely ; ).  And then as I was finishing my breakfast and tea at the computer, I had just been reading the latest blog post of my dear Susan, with whom I have not spoken in way too long, and got this overwhelming urge to call her.  I did, she was home, we had a great time catching up, and since she is one of my favorite people in the whole wide world, it did not matter what we talked about, just hearing her voice made me happy.  And then when we hung up, and I looked at the sun streaming into the living room windows, I got the urge to do some cleaning--mainly because I knew that's what Susan would be doing when she got off the phone, and it was really fun to dive into it thinking of her doing the same!  (Ok, and, I confess, because the sun was shining directly on the computer screen, rendering it unviewable.)  But still, great motivation, and a beautiful time to be motivated, since that is the perfect sunshine to see all my cobwebs. Ah, the blessings of girlfriends, near and far.

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And even though I was feeling pretty poorly most of today, I was really glad to have motivation to do anything, because on Monday I proclaimed to DH that this would be another "Anit-Procrastination Week," and so even though I feel like the week sideswept me and I'm not really as productive as I had hoped, it still feels great to tackle things I have been putting off.  So this week I have made important phone calls, found homes for Christmas gifts, washed bedding, done some deep cleaning, etc.  I guess it is not very impressive as the "A-P Week" I had two weeks ago, during which I did some mending and started mending some damaged books.  But since I feel like crap, and I'm still schooling and cooking and doing basic cleaning and laundry, I'll still count the week a success so far.

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Throughout the day I have made a point of being thankful--there are too many times I am quick to complain, esp. when tired and short tempered and sore.  So it has been a great opportunity to purposefully focus on what is Good and True and Beautiful:

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. . . . And the God of peace will be with you.--Phillipians 4:8 and 9b.

So, this week I'll finish out with hopefully productivity and better sleep (please, dear Lord), but definitely with a lot more gratitude.  Any day is better when viewed through thankfulness.



*No, but I finished it in a few hours with breaks for making dinner, getting kids ready for bed, etc.  Good enough!

Blessing of the Week: Best Friends FOREVER

Once again, I have gone way longer than I intended to without blogging, once again for the best of reasons:

My dear Susan came for a girlfriend visit!  It was truly a lovely time--tea and treats and chatting and walking around seeing things and eating delicious food (we had opportunity to eat out several times during her stay, and we chose well).  DH's parents' motorhome is still here from the summer, so Susan and I had a three-day slumber party out there--even just the pleasure of a good book and good companionship while you are settling down to sleep is so wonderful. 

(And Susan was such a trooper, even though she froze all night long the first night in the motorhome because neither of us would have imagined that all the vents in the motorhome were OPEN, and the little space heater's efforts were pretty much being sucked out to the cold night, and I had given her the "nice" blankets and taken the "old and funky" afghans for myself, and so she was an icicle all night and I was close to warm and toasty--she has forgiven me, I think, because that's what Best Friends do.)

(Oh, and Susan, I realize I kept introducing you to people as "my best friend," which is true, even if several amazing women share the title, and I hope that was not awkward for you, but I could not resist letting people know that this was a *special* visit.  Oh, and every time I did, I thought about how my MIL once lectured me for telling someone in her hearing that you were my best friend--because she thought it was rude to the person I was speaking to, implying that woman was not my best friend, even thought I had only known that woman a few months and she would never have assumed best friendedness--so I also felt a little rebellious every time. ; ) I'm claiming you, woman, for what you are!)

One of the best parts of Susan's visit was how I had opportunities to mix her up with other dear friends in ideal girlfriend situations!  First there was a mending party, and Susan and I got to hang out with my dear Rosa at the home of another lovely woman, sipping tea, sewing buttons and chatting like old biddies, and every time one of us completed a mend, she would hold up her victory and the rest of us would admire it and applaud her accomplishment.  And then one evening my dear Becky came by and the three of us lounged in the motorhome and snacked and laughed.  Doing such pure girlfriend things with these lovely friends was like the beauty of tea and dark chocolate together--the combination just brings out the tastiest things about each, making the experience of them even more enjoyable.  In other words, I was in girlfriend heaven.

(Oh, and just so you all know, when I was growing up my earliest best friends were boys, and I valued my boy friend relationships more than my girl friend relationships, probably because I had sisters and no brothers, so somehow the boy friends seemed more special.  And I thought girls were meaner than boys, and often less interesting in the things they wanted to play.  I always did have at least one female BF, though, and then all of a sudden in high school I ended up with three BFF's--Susan, Mina and another Susan.   And then in college I was in a co-ed dorm that arranged the rooms in "suites" and my suitemates became my great friends, so much that we managed to live together in some fashion all four years.  And then as a young married in CO I met a fabulous group of other young married women, and then when we moved to CA God gave me a smaller but even more fabulous group of women. . . . And somewhere along the way, I went from not valuing girlfriends much to being a huge champion of them!  And somewhat of a connoisseur.  ; )

The long weekend with Susan ended with a day and overnight in San Francisco--which took the feelings of girlfriendhood and being a grownup and freedom to a whole new level.  And it has been amazing this week to notice how much I am rejuvinated in spirit, being a patient, purposeful mommy and a much more content wife.  When I spoke with Becky for a few minutes by phone yesterday, and said how great my spirit/mommying/wifery was this week, she pointed out that the time away was obviously good for all those things.

DH, take warning note.

My fellow moms, you all have a special place in my heart, and I am praying for you all this week, that you would find peace and contentment and refreshment this week however you can; that the Good Lord would surround you with life-giving relationships; and that you would be encouraged in your mommying and wifery as I have been.  I am so, so blessed, ladies, and I pray for your own blessing and renewal.  Much love to you all!

Another Saturday Story

The last Saturday story I want to share in this Week of Blessings happened Saturday, Sept. 10th.  I had signed up to attend a simulcast of a Beth Moore special event.  For those of you who don't know, Beth Moore is a Christian Bible study author and public speaker, usually writing and speaking to women (although her stuff is so deep and intensive and worthwhile that there are always some brave men who attend her studies and speaking).  Beth is very Southern, and has historically had big blond hairdos and lots of self-depreciating and completely hilarious stories to illustrate her points.  I enjoy her immensely, and think she is one of the best Christian study writers/speakers out there.  This special speaking/worship event was held at a very large arena outside of Huston, TX, and was streamed live over the internet to--I think she said--17 different countries, a few military bases, and at least one women's correctional facility.  There were about 180,000 people viewing the simulcast from host sites outside of TX--as far away as New Zealand!  (Since this was an all-day event for us here in CA, I imagine the Kiwi participants made it an all-night Beth Moore party!)  It was pretty amazing to think that people all over the world--mostly women--were gathering via the magic of the internet to pray and sing and learn together. 

Our host site was a local church, and the women gathering there for the day came from a variety of area churches--I love it when God-believing people come together like that.  The church took really good care of us, and provided breakfast before the simulcast started, lunch during the first break, and even chocolate dipped strawberries for refreshment during the afternoon break.  The tickets for the event only cost $25 each, so it is pretty clear the church was not making any money off this event--they were just ministering to the women gathered there.  I love that too. 

When I signed up to go, I did not know who else would be attending.  By a few days before, I learned my dear Becky would be there, so we carpooled, and when we arrived we saw other friends, including the women from the homeschool mentoring day we had a few weeks prior!  So once again I spent an entire day with truly awesome women, laughing and learning and soaking in all kinds of truth. 

Beth Moore said during the simulcast that she had been praying that each woman attending would receive "a word"--something that she needed to hear, that God wanted to tell her.  God has always been so faithful in speaking to me--through friends, through the Bible, through the quiet voice, through all kinds of arenas, even movies and newspaper articles!  I knew He had me there for a reason, so it was fun to say, "Ok, God, I trust you have something for me today--I can't wait."  Throughout the day, as Beth talked about all kinds of things, I tried to listen, to hear whatever idea God wanted me to walk away with.  At the last break of the day I took a walk alone to stretch my legs and think.  I was having vague feelings, knew I was on the brink of getting what He wanted me to get, but I could not quite put my finger on how all the ideas in my head connected into something I could grasp on to.  It was not until the end, when Becky and I pulled out of the driveway to go home, and she asked me what I had gotten out of the day, that it was like a little light went on, and I started to realize what God was saying to me--and we talked all the way to her house, and then sat in her driveway for over an hour talking and connecting the pieces. 

It was about my Mother-in-Law.  And how I have been taking a little emotional break since we last saw them, and how that was ok, but now it is time to step back into relationship--because she is worthy of love, and God wants me to love her.  Not only to be receptive, and friendly, but to reach out and be vulnerable.  It is where He wants me, and I am actually a little excited about it!  I mean, there will undoubtedly be PLENTY of moments that are REALLY painful and sad in the near future, but instead of feeling fearful and wanting to avoid them, I am feeling confident and ready to walk through them with MIL, in love. 

Just so you know, I am not pretending to be a saint by any means.  I am still the same flawed person, and I know I will mess things up and not love well sometimes and have plenty of oh crap! cold-chill, dear-in-the-headlights moments--but hopefully I'm no longer going to be living in fearful anticipation of them, and being afraid of being imperfect, and that feels really good.

And just so you know, Becky shared some specific insights in the car that day that immediately sent that thrill of recognition through me--it was truth that I needed to hear, and apply.  Would you believe just this past Saturday I stopped at my friend Terry's house (delivering tomatoes! so fun!) and when we chatted for a bit, the conversation came around to this same topic, and Terry shared one of the exact same insights that Becky had said!  Not a coincidence.  God knew I needed to hear it one more time, to get it rooted that much more deeply in my heart and mind. 

God, speaking to me.  Friends, encouraging and challenging me as His beautiful instruments.  A new vision for the future, that will hopefully bring more peace and love to our extended family.  And chocolate dipped strawberries.

I'm telling you all, this has been the best month of Saturdays.

Week of Blessings, Day 1: Saturday Stories

While I am not getting to blog much these days, it is for good reasons--I'm doin' life instead!  I'm still trying to figure out what homeschooling is going to look like this year (since last year our "usual" stopped working for some reason). I'm being as attentive as possible to my kids, since the kids and I all seem to be working through a spell of being easily irritable and less gentle than we used to be, a bad habit which takes lots of purposeful mommying to relearn.  I'm starting to clean again--that's the one thing that had to go while we were diving back head-long into school, as I really truly have had a hard time this Fall doing anything else with such a consistent focus on homeschooling well and mommying well.  At least I have been cooking!  After a sloppy summer, I am back to cooking real food dinners, and even some lunches.  And I am purging unneeded stuff, too, but slowly, which means in the meantime there have been piles in several places in the living room, which of course do not help the whole cleaning thing either.  I am starting to work playdates into our school week, so we have been seeing friends, which is GREAT.  And we've had some really positive things happen which I really and truly hope to get a chance to write about!

So I am going to make this a week of Blessings, starting today.  Hopefully I will get to blog even just a little bit each day--and will have to let go of my perfectionist desire to describe everything in minute detail and flesh out the significance of every little thing. ; )

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .
Blessings Day One:  Saturdays

Normally DH and I don't have much going on over the weekends.  This works well for us, since we always have plenty to do around the house, unfinished projects anywhere the eye might rest, etc. and weekends are the only time DH can work on things around here, so we usually like low-key, hanging-out-at-home weekends.  Since the beginning of August our weekends have been unusually busy--but so chock-full of blessing.

While we have had unusual weekend events since the first weekend of Aug., the first one that was a huge blessing was Aug. 20.  That was the Saturday at the end of the First Official Week of School (our homeschool charter began Monday the 15th, even though I had started school with the kids on the 1st, because I just knew we needed that much readjustment this year before the official start), so it was a week when I had been immersed in all things school, and by the end was very worn, frustrated, frazzled, and a tad overwhelmed.  I really do plan on writing more about why homeschool suddenly became hard, and what I have been doing to move us out of this phase, but for now, let's just say since last year ended up feeling so unsatisfying and less fruitful and rewarding than it should have been, I have been asking God over and over to show me what to do better/differently.  And that Saturday He started to answer. 

One of my homeschool friends arranged a gathering of homeschool moms at the home of a wise, Godly woman who just "retired" from homeschooling, after putting the last of her four children into college.  My fellow moms will understand immediately the blessing of a whole day without children, in the company of kindred spirit moms!  But this lady, named Gracie, really went all out, and provided breakfast and a delicious lunch for us, and all day we sat around her kitchen table and she mentored us in all things homeschool.   It was such a lovely, relaxing time, where we could speak honestly about struggles and get encouragement and ideas from one another, and I took about 4 pages of notes, and felt God whispering and nudging me several times that day, and left no longer feeling defeated at the very beginning of the school year, but excited and redetermined.

Oh, yes, Lord.  Do your good work in me!

This is long enough I think I will go ahead and post--but more Blessing to come today!  May your Saturday be full of blessing too!

Week of Blogging Day 4: Baby Sweetness Update

I just thought I would give a quick update on our niece "Sweetness":

--She is out of the hospital and "home" with her parents, DH's sister and her husband (Auntie N and Uncle S).  Amazingly, she went home right around the same time she would have been born!

--Today she is 6 months old (2 months corrected) and weighs almost 10 lbs! 

--She is still on oxygen, and still has "Brady's" but is overall doing well--despite teething!

--And the potential eye issues she was facing seem to be no longer be a concern!  Yay!

--Their little family is still living in someone's condo in Colorado Springs for now, still unsure about their long-term living situation, but Uncle S. went back to India for his work and to move their things out of their old apartment and into storage, since it does not look like they will be heading back to India anytime soon--Sweetness' health is just too fragile, and will be for possibly several more years.  As Auntie N. told me, Sweetness' lungs are still so vulnerable that a cold could be life-threatening.   : ( 

--While Uncle S. was in India for several weeks, DH's mom went out to CO to stay with her daughter and grand-daughter, and I heard it was a true blessings from Auntie N., as Sweetness needs lots of attention.

--We hope to see them this summer, but not sure it will happen (not with gas at $5 a gallon!).  At least we Skype every so often, so we can see Sweetness in full adorable baby action.  Oh, and to say hello to her parents.  Whom we also love.  But nothing would be nicer than to finally get to hold her. : )

Happy Mother's Day to all of you Moms--May you feel the fullness of God's blessings this weekend. : )

Fun on the Web Wed: Are you familiar with exploding Pyrex?

One of the awesome Moms on my sidebar, Urban Servant, posted the other day about a dinner tragedy that would have had me sobbing in despair.  Not only did she laugh, but she ran with it, and now her kids are looking to use Exploding Pyrex as a science fair project!  So if any of you readers have ever had a Pyrex (or perhaps other tempered glass pan or bowl) crack, break, or explode under cooking and handling, would you please be so kind as to visit her blog and tell your story for their science project? 

Your sharing with them would not only help the kids with their research, but would also be like a little note of encouragement from afar!  (And as this is a family of 13 who has just moved from CO to MN, and who are currently staying in a 900 sq. ft. house, and weathering all kinds of hardships these days, your encouragement would surely mean a lot! : )

on bleeding and life-giving

Ok, I lied.  I said I would finish whatever I wanted to write about my week in Illinois this past weekend--not for any particular reason, just because my brain liked how neat and tidy that would be.  Finish that one train before jumping into my usual stream of consciousness blogging.  Except it turns out the things left to say are not little things--not snippets.  They are big things, like homeschooling, and marriage, and breastfeeding and spiritual growth.  So I guess I will just let go of my need for tidiness here in this blog--because, really, why should my blog be any different than all the other facets of my happily untidy life?--and jump right on in to the swing of life as it is now.

And at this exact now, the pendulum of life has swung to that time of the month.
(so, no more snippets, but loads of TMI ahead)

This is a sorta big deal for me, since I have not had a period for. . . (counting on fingers. . . resorting to paper and pencil. . . ) 33 months.  Almost three years.  And I truly enjoyed being without periods, so am only reluctantly welcoming them back into my life. 

Welcome back.  We loathe and are embarassed by periods when we are teenagers, dismayed at the treachery of our bodies that would make us ache and stink and break out every month, and give any notion of premarital sex an ominous weight.  Then when we are women, more attuned to our bodies, to the give-and-take of pleasure and sacrifice and rhythm and blood, we are much more accepting of our menstrual cycles.  We are like little heathens, our bodies connected to the moon, to the earth, to loam and musk--fresh-bodied still, our spirits and flesh much more loosely bound.  The most heathen of us anticipating the blood rite with eagerness, with dread, with despair, then with relief and celebration as the spin of the roulette wheel once more chooses liberty, and the slow decay. We get practical about the mechanics of our monthly rituals, and even flippant, or if we are lucky, transparent about it all with a lover with whom we are safe.

When we have matured a little more in our sexuality, feeling a fullness of body, a readiness, a restlessness for achieving life, our periods take on a whole new weight.  They no longer represent inconvenience, uncomfortableness, awkwardness;  instead, they represent a cycle of life to which we are now drawn, in which we hope and trust with desire and awe.  Suddenly, sex takes on a spiritual weight, our bodies and spirits pulled together by awareness and longing--we are vulnerable, and beautifully so, as with our lover   we seek to make love tangible, physical, in a new little body into which we expect to pour forth all our joy and by which multiply our joy further.

And then, when motherhood is no longer about anticipating but immersion, when our bodies are no longer young and ripe but worn and dried out, when our spirits are weighed by the daily toil of loving those little bodies, little beings--then . . . ?

That's as far as I have gotten on this walk--I am not sure how the story ends.  But as you can tell, since two days ago I have been conscious of entering a new stage in my sexual/fertile life, and I am not sure how it will be defined, what it will hold.

But yesteday, in "celebration," I took the day off.  I knew it was coming--had warning signals for several days.  Night before last I knew it would be yesterday, and so I mapped the day all out:  stay in pj's all day, lay around as much as possible, eat whatever chocolate happens to be on hand. (Which, to my complete dissatisfaction, was NONE.  Next month I'm planning ahead.)  The girls and I did school, but it was a slow and easy day, more keeping up momentum than actually having goals to accomplish.  I actually did way more than I intended to--some necessary yardwork, and cooking for both lunch and dinner (again, next month I'm planning ahead), but I also allowed myself to not do a few other things that really needed doing, like vacuum and do laundry.

And, really, it was not that bad of a day. Cramp wise, I mean. On one hand, this could just mean my body is being a little slower to get back with the game now that I am so advanced in age, but the bad cramps will still come by next month.  OR if things are really starting to slow down, my body slowly shutting down its productivity, then maybe the cramps won't come back with such a vengenance ever again.  That alone would certainly make me look at periods much more affectionately.  Ah, poor tired ovaries, you've done good, girls, your run is nearly through.  Ah, my dear uterus, whose thick, rich nourishment I always distained, and yet which grew and held my babies strong and healthy--your showing this first month is but a wan reminder of your past vibrance, vitality, and my abundant fecundity, which I have taken for granted all these years. 

It is nice to be now at a place of feeling affection for my body like this.  When I was young, my body and I were most definately at odds; for several years the cramps and overall ill-feeling were so harsh I even threw up once a month.  Ugh.  I am very fortunate that my parents had sympathy, and let me stay home from school on those days.  But still, I remember days when I had something important I needed to do after school, like audition for a play, and so had to stick it out all day. . . and yes, even hurling at school, at least once in that exact same bathroom featured two posts earlier (first stall on the right--ah, memories).  And then, when I was in college a gynocologist told me about A*naprox (now available over the counter as A*leve, which, yes, it does).  If you have bad cramps and have not yet discovered the magic of A*leve, please let me urge you to try it out as quickly as possible.  No other pain killers come close.  But I must also confess that I have always doubled the recommended dose, to meet the dose prescribed for me, which is NOT medical advice, so always talk to your doctor before doing any drugs (does that phrase cover me from lawsuit?), but definitely ask him if you can try upping your A*naprox if you are wanting to feel the magic.

Yesterday I didn't need any pain meds.  The cramps, like I said, were not bad, and they reminded me oh so vaguely of post-partum cramps, which I actually always enjoyed (well, after the first day when I felt likeI was going to vomit or pass out from their intensity) because they reassured me after each baby that my uterus was doing what it could to reduce my distended belly back to what would be "the new normal."  And these cramps were such a pale imitation of what my periods used to be, that every ache in my back and abdomen was a positive reminder of how great this was in comparison.  And I remembered too, nostalgically and a little awed, how those heavy periods and horrible cramping had meant there were some serious baby-making hormones at work, and organs eager to do their job. 
And, yes, I have been quite fertile.  Proof is on my sidebar--but that is not even the half of it. Seriously.  Once we decided to try for our first child, I think it took us a few months to get pregnant.  But no more than 3, and that includes the time my body was re-adjusting from being on the pill.  When our first baby, Sunny, was about 16 months old, we decided we would like to have a second child, but did not want them to be too far apart in age, and knew it might take a while to get pregnant (in theory), so I actually weaned Sunny completely so that I would resume ovulation and menstruation and we could try for a second.  My body jumped into overdrive big time--and I started having two periods a month!  Well, at least I had three periods in a month and a half, and then I got pregnant.

Years later, once again I ended up weaning our second, Merry, at 18 months, and once again my body kicked into overdrive, and the exact same things happened.  By this point we had figured out that fertility was not an issue for us.  We also realized we still had our senses of humor, which is fortunate for my death-defying Dear Husband, who, during my third period in two months, listened to me griping about something and then asked with mock concern, "Oh, is it that time of the two weeks again?" 

When I weaned our third child, Happy, I am pretty sure my body was wacko at the start, but this time I did not pay it any mind, except to be glad whenever I had a period because--as I have mentioned before--we did not think we wanted any more kids.  So, it took a while longer, what with the various methods of birth control we were using and all, at which God must have just looked and chuckled, but a short while later we ended up with Smiley.  And now, here we are in this strange spot--feeling really, truly blessed and submitted to God in this area of life, and yet feeling done with our family, and not having any clue what that will look or feel like.

So the blood yesterday, today, brings up so many emotions, so many memories, such strong fears and hopes for our future.  I do welcome it, as symbolic of this journey I am on in body and mind and spirit, and give it over to God, along with the fears and hopes.  I feel like He and I are embarking upon a stage in the journey even bigger than where we have walked before, and while it is a journey with my husband, it is even more a journey of MySelf, walking in faith. 

You brave (and not easily offended/made queasy) readers who have made it through this post--you have my sincere admiration.  Thanks for coming along. 


Coming soon. . . the complete Blessed restrospective of child-birth and lactation!  ; )

Summer Snippet #3

This weekend I'll write my last thoughts and bits from the visit back to IL and the reunion:

First, some swank:

Ooooooh!  Ahhhhhh!

Of course there's a story.  The week before I go to Illinois (this is about two weeks before the event), I end up emailing back and forth with Wendy, the organizer of the reunion, about the Saturday night dinner.  So in one of those emails, I offer to help her out with whatever little reunion details she needs help with when I am in town the week before the reunion.  She emails and says she needs help with ideas for decorations for the dinner Saturday night.  I run over to etsy for inspiration, and email back saying, "What if you could make what look like little vintage decanter labels with our high school logo on them to hang off of wine bottles?  That would be fairly easy, inexpensive (the restaurant could save wine bottles for us to use), and classy, and either flowers or candles could be put inside the empty wine bottles.  And people could take them home if they wanted, as souveniers."  She thinks that's a great idea.

Oh, you savvy readers already know where this is going.

So late Tuesday night the week of the reunion she emails and tells me she is swamped with work stuff and asks if I could please "design" the labels.  There is something ominous about that wording, and so I emailed to ask if by "design" she does indeed mean "make."  Yes, she does.

Ok, folks, this is the moment when I need to stop and formally declare that I am NOT a crafty person.  Yes, I have a definite artistic side, and yes, I consider myself somewhat of a "Jill of all trades" and think I can do just about anything with even just a small degree of success.  But my true skill lies in generating ideas, not implementing them.  And certainly not on short notice, and certainly not when a certain degree of professionalism is going to be expected.  Ack! 

But it was me or nobody.  And I knew I could do it, I was just not sure how well I could do what I knew would look best.  So I went to the craft store to investigate materials Weds., then had to talk with Wendy Weds. night to confer about what she really was wanting.  Then Mina and Susan arrived Thursday and while we were out and about shopping and lunching we also stopped and they helped me finalize the materials.  Friday I started to work on the project, and while I was talking through the idea with Mina and Susan, Mina had the BRILLIANT idea of having a watermark of our Central High School "C" behind the words.  But this idea would involve computer skills, which I have NOT at all.  But Susan said, essentially, "Oh, that's easy, let me have a minute with it" and starting humming away on her Apple laptop.  And while it ended up taking several HOURS to work out various technical problems, like blurry fonts, centering issues, etc., and us running to Kinko's twice to get the final product printed out, the end result looked AMAZING, and did confirm my long-held suspicion that Susan has some mad computer skills. 

By this point, however, if was time for the Friday night event and so we had to put off the actual makings of the labels until the next day.  So Saturday after the school tour, when Susan M. and Susan and her husband Luke and Mina and DH and my parents and I were all hanging around the table casually chatting. . . I was also cutting and gluing and edging like mad.  (And none of that could have happened without my Mom's collection of scrapbooking stuff, which she was so awesome to loan me!)  So finally, it came down to the last part--the chain.  Only to find we did not have the right tools.  While Dad was off rummaging in his tool boxes, Susan watched me for a few minutes trying in vain to maneuver the tiny links with just my inadequate fingernails, and then took over.  Then Dad found his little pliers and snips and I would have been happy to take it back over, but Susan had worked out the method and was so fast that within 20 minutes she had attached the chains to all the labels. 

So, with the help of my wonderful, highly skilled and brilliant and patient friends, we managed to deliver about 15 of these labels to the restaurant about an hour and a half before the event was set to begin.

Not perfect, but all things considered, not bad. : )  Wendy thought they were great, and the owner of the trendy little restaurant where we had the event (who was also a classmate of ours) thought they were such a good idea she was going to use the idea in the future, and I saw some classmates taking them off the bottles at the end of the evening to take home.  So, all in all, I'd say it was a happy story, and a good memory of the reunion. And when Mina and Susan stop rolling their eyes, I am sure they will look back on it fondly as well. 



P.S. The labels looked great on the wine bottles at the tables--with a single flower in each bottle.  The label does not quite fit right on my green--vinegar?--bottle.  But you get the idea.  
P.P.S. About the horrible window painting job visible behind the vase in the first photo--this is not my work.  This is just an example of the imperfections lingering all around the house from the previous owners.  They apparently would get the urge to paint parts of the house without bothering to mask off the parts that they were not planning on painting.  They also stuck seemingly random nails and thumbtacks into the walls and floors everywhere around the house.  And used nails too long for the depth of the boards so that the bare points of nails protrude from cabinets and walls at child-danger height.  All things we are slowly fixing. . . ANYWAY, I just had the need to tell you that I was not the one responsible for the ugliness.

Summer Snippet #2

Yes, I know two weeks ago I said I was going to post lots of snippets and photos, so I could get all the things piled up in my head out here in the way least painful to all of us. I gotta get cracking--the things I really want to write are seriously starting to overtake my thought patterns in the day! When I get an idea going around and around, I find myself blogging in my head about it, and that does not stop until I actually get it written down. Sometimes I even write things that I never "publish," just to get them out of their holding pattern in my brain.


(Which also really makes me wonder what I used to do with the ideas before I blogged. Probably pounced upon my poor, unsuspecting husband some nights when he came home from a long day of work at the office. . . )

And because my brain is the way it is--you know, so obsessive compulsive organized--I have to finish up the trip to IL and the reunion before I can move on.

So here are a couple more pics from the reunion. . .

I was so fortunate in high school not only to have Mina and Susan, but to also have another Susan as a best friend:

Me and Susan M., in front of the choir room during the school tour--

and I can't believe this dim mobile upload is one of the only pics we got of just the two of us

 from the entire weekend! How did that happen?!

Mina and I became friends the summer before freshman year of H.S. when she moved in down the street from me; then midway through our freshman year she introduced me to Susan O., there on the bench in front of school.  I honestly do not know why the three of us became such close friends, other than it was meant to be.  But Susan M. and I became close friends because we were involved in so many of the same activities throughout our years in high school:  musicals, Madrigal Choir, Speech Team, Students for a Better World, Peer Ears (student counsellors).  The first three activities on the list alone accounted for so much of our free time after school and in the evenings and Saturdays, so actually Junior year I probably spent more time with Susan M. than I did with Susan O. and Mina.  And then Mina moved to California the last day of school Junior year, and Susan O.  had an out of town boyfriend she was with much of the time, so Senior year of high school Susan M. was the best friend whom I hung out with the most. 

Saturday morning there was a reunion tour of our alma mater, where I got to relive some of the old, fond memories of my friendship with all three women. 

Memories like hanging out in the bathroom!  Aren't these the most awesome stalls?  Just so classic--I hope they never try to upgrade these bathrooms, because they would just ruin them.  This bathroom is going to look better in 100 years than anything else they could possibly put in, because that's how you made things back in the good ol' days--to last. 

To prove my point further--subway tile!  It's back in style already!  Okay, maybe not in that particular dried pea shade, but still!  And the steam radiators!  Very cool.  Susan M. was our photographer for these shots, and I was going for the nostalgia shot here, reminiscent of how we would all check our hair-do's (and don'ts. hehe) before leaving the bathroom.  Except it looks like I'm checking for gray hairs, which is a little too much realism.

Anyone else remember how teen girls would carry a full-size can of Aqua Net in their purses, for touch-ups in such bathrooms between classes?  Not that I ever did. . . no seriously, I never did.  I was anti-hair product most of my life because I believed it made my acne worse, and I so did not need help in that tragic aspect of life.  And my grandma used Aqua Net, so that was that right there.

We haven't changed a BIT.  ; )

Our high school was not air conditioned back in the day--and amazingly enough, is still not!  Actually, that makes me glad, and not in a sadistic kind of way.  No, I am proud of the "buck-up, pioneer schooler!" attitude of the school, which knows that kids will not actually die of heat, just stick miserably to their seats and lose all ability to pay attention, and might even want to nap, esp. when the teacher turns off the classroom lights in compassion (or was it commiseration?).  And heaven help you if you were not lucky enough to be sitting in the path of one of the box fans teachers would bring from home and set up in the classroom.  Or if you were in a classroom on the first floor, where bees would wander in and out of the open windows.  But still, you grew up hardy, and full of vigor, not like those wimpy Centennial High School kids across town who were actually sent home from school on the days when the air conditioning wasn't working. 

ANYWAY, after the school tour Sat., Susan M. came back to my parents' house with Susan O. and Mina and DH and I and joined my parents for lunch.  It was just a perfect time--laid-back, with delicious, nostalgic summer food (thanks Mom and Dad for such a great lunch!) and good catching-up time.  Really, those moments with my good friends were the best parts of the whole weekend.


 

Summer Snippet #1

Last week was one of recovery; you know, the usual unpacking, laundry, cleaning and reconnecting with the kids. I can't believe it was just one week ago yesterday that DH and I arrived back from IL and my reunion--already it feels like a month ago! And I think my brain took the slow train home, because I just have not had the mental energy to write. But that's ok, since my main goal was to get re-etablished with my kids and my home and my husband, and resume life in even better ways than I left it, and in that way it was a very good week. Lots of mental processing, and not much urge to form ideas into words--although I did finally corner my husband Friday night and talk his ear off--i.e. "blog" at him--for almost an hour, which made me think it was time to dust off the keyboard and jump back in.

And yet, another part of why I think I have not been blogging this week is because there is almost too much to say! I have been blogging in my head for the past two weeks about all kinds of things--and even started writing The Mother Of All Blog Posts while I was still at my parents' house--but I am getting easily overwhelmed at the thought of all the work it would take to assemble these ideas with coherence and lucidity. (Although correctly using the words "coherence" and "lucidity" just now--not without checking their definitions first--made me feel a little more confident.)

But I really must get some of this stuff out of my brain, where the ideas linger on, in half-life, like ghosts with unfinished business, moaning for release. So, I'm going to make things easy for myself and anyone interested: snippets and pics!

It seems only fitting to start where I left off: Mina and Susan!

All dressed up for the Saturday evening dinner event. Susan and Mina were GORGEOUS.

Blurry--wah!--but still awesome. Out in my parents' driveway before the casual Friday evening event. Also notable as the last recorded sighting of my breasts.

The famous bench in front of our high school, upon which the three of us first met, brought together by shared Walkmans and a love of Norwegian music:

Okay, maybe it wasn't just the music.

(Oooooh, and Susan, I just found this little youtube gem. I don't think Morten has ever looked or sounded better!)

But I regress digress.

Two of my favorite homegirls

a-ha pic courtesy of the offical a-ha website.

So, here I am at my parents' house in Champaign, IL. This is the house I grew up in, and it contains so many good memories. And whenever I get back to the Midwest I discover all over again how peaceful and slow-paced life is (I am not sure Chicago and its suburbs count as the Midwest in this regard, however, but even Indianappolis has a slower feel). I wrote some about all this last summer when we did our big roadtrip from CA to IL, sharing the way I feel about this house, and the neighborhood, and the food, and the strange realization that hits me when I am here that DH and I are really Californians in our thinking and living, even if we were reared in the Midwest.

Slow and peaceful is good this week. I arrived tired and wrung. The velvety warm air, the quiet rooms, the walks alone around the neighborhood, the fireflies and streetlamps--I have stepped into another world, and it has been a little melancholy, but so serene. I did not come here for respite, but I think that is what I needed. So while I am very sorry the kids cannot be here with me (and I'll write more about that later), I will appreciate and enjoy this time for what it is. My first vacation without children!

Tomorrow will be a whole 'nother story--no more solitude and reflection, but friendship and laughter.

May your weekend be filling with the same! : )

Prom, 1989

Me, Susan, Mina.

They arrive Thursday, 20th High School reunion festivities start on Friday night--but seeing them (and hanging out in my parent's basement to boot!) is what I am most looking forward to.

(Thanks for the photo, Susan! And FYI, we each DID have dates, but we took this pic of the three of us that was an instant classic. We even got photos of the same pose at both Susan and Mina's weddings--I am thinking it is time for another version!)

Snippet of the day: memory from Valentine's Day morning

. . . this morning was full of all kinds of ideas and memories and examples of love, in many different forms, and as I sat in the worship gathering this morning listening to the message, I found myself wanting to write about some of them. But with the brief time allotted me this afternoon, I will not even attempt to write anything long and focused, but will just get down a few of the ideas/feelings that are floating around in my brain.

And, knowing me, it will still be long, but unfocused. ; ) . . . .


I found this unfinished, unpublished post this afternoon when I sat down to write a bit. It is from way back before Lent. I must have forgotten to finish it before my Lenten break. And I will not be able to finish it now--I have no idea were I was headed with this! I am sure it would have been a fascinating post--probably one of my best ever! ; ) I for one am intrigued by the "ideas and memories and examples of love" and wish I knew what beautiful raptures of mind and spirit my pre-Lent self was experiencing that morning.


Anyhoo, I won't try to fake it now. But there were two bits of that forgotten post that I was pleased to see and recall--they are worth holding onto, and sharing:

Getting to church, getting the kids settled in their classrooms/nursery, getting into the service a little late, walking through the Abbey coffeelounge (awesome nonprofit located in the church's former "fellowship hall") and seeing my husband in line for coffee, and he says he is buying me a chai (Which I have been doing without on a regular basis in an attempt to be more frugal). I realize the person in front of him in line is my dear Becky. The cashier is ringing up her breakfast purchase. Becky turns to me and without a beat tells the cashier to add "whatever they are having" to her total. I disagree with her, she disagrees back, she says she has missed me, I say I have missed her, we hug, and while we are carrying on in friendship my husband slips in and pays for hers and ours. She realizes, she disagrees, he and I disagree back, laughing, she and I hug again.

One of those tiny moments of life, of laughter, of friendship. It sums up so much of what I hold dear these days.

And then the feeling of warm connectedness continued when we walked back to the overflow room and sat down to watch the video stream of the service happening next door in the main sanctuary. (The overflow room being the Sunday morning haven for nursing moms, parents who have their toddlers with them, people too embarassed to try to find a seat so late in the main gathering, and people eating. Some Sundays I am all of these!) It just so happened this morning Becky's husband Dan was giving the message, the last in an excellent series about experiencing "Shalom" (peace) in our lives, in all its facets. This week the talk was about eternal Shalom.

Becky pulled out her knitting, and we sat contentedly, listening, not distracted (overly much) by the babies in the room crying out or spilling Cheerios. Every now and then one of us would lean over and quietly comment to one another about something Dan had just said. And I had a sudden flash in my mind's eye, of the two of us years upon years down the road, old women sitting companionably together at church, listening, knitting, not distracted (overly much) by the young families around us, putting our wintered heads together every now and again to quietly comment on something just said from the pulpit. . . .


This is one of the things that defines friendship for me: comfortable companionship.