Weekend Wonderland

I keep thinking of a song that begins with the line..."I couldn't sleep at all last night..." And I know why.  Just like the children asleep on Christmas Eve with visions of sugar plums, I, too, attempted to sleep with jumbled visions of the movies I have seen and the books I have read in the last four days...dancing in my head.

It all started with the books - WONDER, then on to TUCK EVERLASTING, and finally, the beginning of BREADCRUMBS.  Add to that, the movies - THE JUNGLE BOOK, SPIDERWICK CHRONICLES, TUCK EVERLASTING (naturally), and movie trailers for SHAUN THE SHEEP.  And that makes for a perfect potion, or porridge of possibilities.  Swimming among these scattered thoughts and memories are the changes I saw made, the changes I would have made, and the family adventures of the weekend.

We were like characters in a book or movie...traveling to another land, Oregon.  We stayed in a rented home that was an idyllic cottage with most of the trimmings.  Two doors down and across the street, the neighbors grew fairy tale fences of tall sunflowers.  A short Noah's-Ark-walk on a painted pedestrian crossing brought us into another land of games, dares, contests, and awaiting friendships.  The playground was something like we had never seen and was enough to even delight the eleven year old, not to mention us adult children.  It was built like a wood maze with towers that boasted fire escape poles, holes with tire swings to climb down to, slides, swings, obstacle courses, and sandbox.

Another playground awaited us at the public park on Columbia River...with a swimming beach.  The rainbow scene on the water was a marvelous parade of wind surfers, kite surfers, kayaks, sailboats and swimmers. We toured a Farmer's Market and talked with local artisans while wishing we had deep pockets of money to take home all the treasures we discovered.  We visited some amazing and some rather ratty second hand and vintage stores, toured a blown glass garden and shop, and drove the beautiful countryside taking in the winding sights of Hood River...while Mt. Hood grandly stood guard.

On the trip down, we visited Muhultomah Falls and we switched our route on the way back, stopping at Beacon Rock and enjoying a picnic smorgasbord...but to get across the river from Oregon back to Washington, we crossed a bridge...which one usually must do to cross a river.  The notable detail of this bridge, though, is that someone had named it.  It is probably a name that has gone down in history from the very first rickety crossing that has now become a very sturdy steel structure.  It's name struck me and made me think heavenward....THE BRIDGE OF THE GODS.  To me, there should be no S, as there is but one God.  Still, it keeps me in this cocoon I am in.  This protective feeling of being in a fairy tale with a happy ending.

To that point, I know I will have a happy ending.  In my heavenly home.  My fairy tale moments of life are huge blessings from my God who loves me more than I can fathom.  He loves me even more than I can love my husband, my children, my grandchildren, my family, my friends, my dog, and God's people.  Every experience I am granted here on earth are gifts from Him.  The things I can see and feel and experience...good and bad...teach me more about Him and about love.  I am so grateful for the smallest things and in such awe of them, too.  With the big things, I am simply overwhelmed, sometimes speechless, and all I can do is praise Him and enjoy.  That is what I also wish for anyone reading this.  In big moments and small moments...enjoy, and praise Him!

The Power of Eleven!

What a fun day!  One little phone call changed my outlook today as I listened to the exuberance in the voice of the birthday girl!  I asked questions and got answers I expected  and some I didn't.  We sang her the birthday song that is our trademark on their day and now I am having my second cup of coffee over the replays in my mind.

Natalie Grace is eleven years old today and wise for her age, but still a child.  She looks so grown up when allowed to wear a little blush and maybe some mascara for special events like the Christmas Eve service at church, but she is still a sweet, innocent child who is always questioning, listening, and learning.

One of her Christmas gifts was a gift certificate for Rock Wall Climbing....something I have never been interested in, but suggested we do it together on my next visit because of her love for it...because I want to get a place in and stay in her world....because her enthusiasm for new adventures entices me to think that I can do it too!

They had planned to go sledding at Paradise on Mt. Ranier today for her birthday.  But the snow didn't come.  No problem, the new plan is snowshoeing and I can't wait for the pictures.  Years ago, before Natalie was born or even planned, Tracy and I had Thanksgiving in Washington with Ted and Robin, which included showshoeing at Paradise.  What fun, and what a workout!  I secretly wish I were there with them right now instead of airing out the kitchen from the potholder fire I started when I picked the wrong knob to heat water in the tea kettle.  (But Jim is working on a Hardee's biscuit recipe that smells heavenly.)

Natalie's mom made a birthday cake from scratch, she proudly tells me, and they are taking it to the lodge and will celebrate with cake when they are done snowshoeing.  Can't you just get a picture of that in your mind?  This brand new eleven year old was as excited about that as anything!

We bought her an early gift while we were there for Christmas. She loved my purse so we let her pick one out.  She wanted a similar color and a lot of zippers like mine has.  She also wanted to be able to wear it cross-body like I do in crowds and when traveling.  We went through several in a couple stores until she found THE ONE. She carried it around while humoring me, she agreed we could still keep looking and keep an eye on that one.  But there was no denying it.  After several attempts by Jim to interest her in another...she simply said LETS JUST PAY FOR THIS ONE.   Now she tells me with great pride that she takes her purse everywhere she is allowed to and wears it like I do.

I am so grateful Natalie has good parents who have set rules, who have standards of conduct for their children and use common sense to reason out the gray areas of parenting a pre-teen.  I am also grateful to this sweet girl, our first grandchild, who we have been learning to grandparent from for these eleven years.  She is gentle and patient with us and still loves us through our mistakes, wrong
sizes, forgotten promises, and panned plans.

Oh, and can you guess, I love being a Grandma!!!

Missing Mom

Mom came home with me when I left Fargo.  Perhaps I should say home with us, as my sister Gayle was along.  Gayle stayed a few days then went home.  Mom and I went about our days.  We shopped, we toured places, we lunched, we played cards, we watched tv and read.  We did normal things.  I had more planned.  I wanted to take her to Stone Mountain.  I wanted her to see Callaway Gardens, especially the chapel on the lake.  I wanted to sit on the porch and talk more.

While Gayle was here, I got out the calendar and started talking about which days she wanted to go to Gayles.  She didn't want to and I figured it was because she needed to settle in a bit more.  Gayle seemed to understand and did not make a big deal of it.  If she comes, she comes.  What a great attitude, but I thought I could feel her disappointment.  So, several days after Gayle left, I broached the subject again.  We called Gayle and she mentioned 'her' Rick's birthday was that weekend and that spurred mom on..."birthday cake" she exclaimed!

We hit the road Thursday after work, having lunch on the road which was messier than I had anticipated.  I realized that I never really think in advance that Moms dominant right hand is unusable.  (Since her stroke). We had a good supper there and I left about noon the next day, thinking I would see Mom within a week, if not sooner.

Gayle really thought of everything.  She had gotten her a jigsaw puzzle to work, and planned to get more.  There were movies to watch and a trip to the mountains on the weekend for Ricks birthday.  I am constantly in awe of this little sister who seems to have it all together.  And, as I drove away, I had  a thought that this may be the perfect place for Mom.  Gayle didn't have a part-time job to contend with, a book club to attend, and other trappings I enjoy.

So  I get word that they are coming back in Sunday.  I had really hoped it would be sooner.  Then later....that it may be next Monday or Tuesday depending on some work her truck needed.  I offered to come and my help was refused.  Gayle wanted to drive her back.  Now I have feelings to sort out and I need to get out of myself and look at this from Moms point of view.

I miss having her here.  I feel I didn't get much time with her alone.  But I have to focus on the reason I asked her to come.  I wanted her to experience the wonderfullness of the south, whether it's my Georgia or Gayles South Carolina.  I wanted her to see this as an option for the cold winters in Fargo.  (Of course, if Mom were to be here with me longer than a week, I would quit my two mornings a week job.)

Truth be told, I have missed Mom for much longer than this week.  I have missed her since I moved out east in 2001.  And I have missed her even more since her stroke since she suffers with aphasia and it is really hard to have a phone conversation with someone who sometimes can only get out one sentence or two and its sometimes a repeat of what you have just said.

When I lived in Fargo, I would see her for lunch a couple days a week, spend Saturday afternoons at her condo, go shopping with her and talk on the phone every other day.  I miss Mom.  And I have to think she also misses me and those days.  Even after I moved, we would spend hours in the phone a couple days a week.  Wow...we all need to savor the time we have with loved ones while we and they are able.

Visiting Home (?)

I am "home" in Fargo-Moorhead...the FM area, as it is called because even though the Red River divides the states of Minnesota and North Dakota, the towns seem to roll along as one.

I have had a unidentifiable creeping sensation the last few days, as if in a dream.  It's only been a week since driving out of Georgia, yet I am missing it so, and my life there.  Here, my life seems blurry, a little lacking in definition.  Then it came to me this morning during a cup of coffee and sadness.  It no longer feels like home here.  I didn't go home, I left home.  I am an alien, a Visitor, a ghost of days gone by.

My favorite place to be when here is with my daughters family...it is wonderful to actually converse in person, get and give hugs and kisses, watch faces as we play and talk and eat and rest together.  But it's much different from visiting my daughter in Washington.  The reason is I am pulled in other directions.

As much as I love to be with Tracy, I also love seeing my Mom and sisters, which sometimes seems like a balancing act.  In Washington there is no other competing family doings.  Certainly, this is no problem...it can fill a day and it's nice to be busy.  I am just never prepared for the emotional strain I cause within myself.  Guilt because I am not seeing Mom every day is the ever-present feeling and I try my hardest to get there at some point morning, afternoon or evening.  Some days are just impossible.  I also want to help with my grandkids and do as much with them as I can.

I have to come to grips with the fact that I am a tourist and you know that when one vacations, they still cannot do everything or see everything they want.  I am confident that God will steer me on this trip because I really am an alien, tourist, visitor anywhere I go.  My home is in heaven with Him and one day I will go HOME for good.  There will be no guilt, no balancing act, no sadness....and I will still be with the ones I love!

A Very Good Look at My World

I am sitting inside a little box, right in the middle of God's creation.  It's not an especially unattractive little box, to me, anyway....but what kind of view does He have?  The view from my windows is of beauty and wonder.  (Yes, at least my little box has windows!) I love looking at the majestic backyard trees, especially the ones with the huge leaves.  Sunlight dances along the branches, playing tag with the shade.  The bark of the trees looks a million years old but I know it is not....it is simply aged.  Birds play on the branches and sometimes sit on the fence top and serenade creation...a squirrel scampers along the fence supports...eyes darting back and forth, perhaps on the lookout for my dog or another predator.  This is my morning window to the world and I love this world.  It is primitive and pristine.  No matter what we try to do in the backyard, nature wins.  And while my husband shakes his head and keeps trying to grow grass and cut down trees that have grown where they shouldn't...I secretly smile at the bald patches of ground and the trees that keep trying to grow back.

The front yard of my box is another story.  Here, I try to grow flowers.  I try to vary the planting so there is always something in bloom but I have to say my favorites are the Spring offerings of iris, lily, gladiola, daffodil, gerber daisy, sheffelera, and roses.  Right now, the gladiolus have just given up the ghost and the zinnias are in full bloom.  I have others that bloom but have forgotten some of the names.  My star jasmine plant is an Olympian climber that I am excited about, wanting to create a plant wall on the side of the porch.  Here in a corner of the flower bed, right next to the walkway to the door, a stubborn tree tries to grow.  Jim will cut or pull it down but doesn't get to the root and and it keeps coming back.  Now it is three-in-one.  I say we dig it out and plant it in the yard.  Something that persistent should be celebrated and allowed to grow free.  I think I may have to do this myself.  Today may be the day.

This little box I call home is my sanctuary where I meet The Lord every day.  We look out on His creation and walk out in it, work in it, celebrate it...and we call it VERY GOOD.

Thought for Food

I am not hungry.  No, I have not been dieting.  I did not eat a big breakfast.  I had a half apple, golden delicious, with a cup of French-brewed coffee.  I had coffee with God while reading and meditating on the book of Ephesians this morning.  Then WHAM!  Out of nowhere, I started thinking about food.

I was thinking how deliberate mothers, and grandmothers for that matter, are about feeding children their fruits and vegetables.  I really do applaud that, I truly do.  I struggle to get my husband to eat fruits and vegetables so it is like having a child at the table sometimes.  :)  Then I tried to get my head back into my childhood.  The older I get, the more random my memories, but, like the song says, one thing 'does' lead to another.

It was the canned age, although we did grow some vegetables in the garden.  Mom could cook all the canned peas she wanted but I hated them.  On the other hand, I loved the raw peas from the garden and when I was supposed to be shelling them...I confess I ate nearly as much.  We had fresh carrots right out of the garden. In fact, my Dad would pull one up (while we walked with him in the garden, having to endure his narrative on all he planted and how great it was coming up), wipe the dirt on his pants, hand it to us and we'd eat it.  In those days I did not eat onion in any form and thought it was so yucky when Dad would pull up a big onion and eat it right before supper.  And I was seated next to him, smelling his breath for about an hour, or so it seemed.  After getting a nickel to try a radish, I found l liked them dipped in salt.  The same with rhubarb, only dipped in sugar.  That was a treat and it was great when the rhubarb was coming in.  We helped Dad plant potatoes and loved red potatoes out of the garden with lots of butter.  We lived on the farm then, and I was in the fifth grade when we moved there.  When I was born, Dad was a hired hand in the little house.  Now we lived in the big house on just a few acres.

 I remember the bleak years when we lived in town.  Dad was working a couple jobs and mom was an LPN at the local hospital.  We did everything we could to save money.  But we didn't like it.  Dad would mix our milk into a pitcher that was half milk and half water with powdered milk.  A sandwich was one piece of bread folded over with a half piece of bologna or peanut butter or jelly...not both.  We had Campbell's tomato or chicken soup or a sandwich for lunch and sometimes supper.  If Dad was home for supper, we would have meat, usually a hamburger casserole of some sort.  I don't remember having a lot of meat until we got a little older.  When Mom made Kool-Aid, she added less sugar than called for.  Little things helped us get by in the lean times.  Our Grandma Ben would send money every year before school so we could go uptown in Moorhead, Mn. to Anthony's and get one new dress for the year.  It was so exciting!  Then Dad would take us all to get new shoes and winter coats, grumbling how we had grown and how much it cost him.

On the farm. Mom baked more, or I remember it more.  And while I was thinking of Mom and food, it occurred to me how she showed her love for me in her cooking.  I didn't like nuts, so there was always a row at the end of the brownie pan with no nuts.  I didn't like cheese so when the other kids were getting toasted cheese sandwiches, I got toasted peanut butter...yum...I don't make it now (because I like cheese now) but I remember the buttery warm taste in my mouth!  I didn't like onions so she would omit them or cut them so small I didn't notice.  I didn't like coconut so if she put that on the frosting of a cake, some was left off.  She went out of her way to provide something we would all eat and enjoy!

Remembering food did not make me hungry, but it made me mad.  In those days leftovers were eaten.  Unfortunately, sometimes we end up throwing them out and I think I am the most wasteful human being on the planet.  Or, we let something go bad (past the date or getting green fuzz on it) without finishing it or even opening it.  In my goal to shop and plan in advance, I am sometimes more wasteful, whereas Jim tends to stop at the store several times a week for fresh meat and what we may like with it.  I hate to think of people going hungry while I could have a food orgy in my kitchen. So, I hope to be better, give more food to the hungry, buy less food, throw out less food and maybe in the process, I can even save some money like my hardworking parents did.  I can do this, with God's help and I praise Him for His blessings of abundance and the Holy Spirit that nudges me to do the right thing.

Unbeautiful

I have been amazed, these last few weeks on vacation, of the continual beauty in my life and the world I live.  It never ceases.  I can find beauty everywhere, easily.  It is seen, felt, tasted, heard, smelled.  It is life itself and it is all a bounteous gift from God.

As we drive along the highways and gravel roads:  trees, sky, clouds, storms, billboards, animals, vehicles, houses, yards, gardens, fields, shopping centers, gas stations, restaurants, ditches, bushes, flowers, fences...they stretch like ribbons or they pop up here and there; they cause me to laugh or cause me concern; they entertain me and intrigue me; they give me ideas I somehow can't put to paper; they work my imagination.  They are beautiful.

As we attend weddings:  laughing brides with smiling husbands, photo opportunities, children dashing about, celebration foods and drinks, smiling hellos to friends and relatives we have missed then tearful goodbyes, gowns and party dresses, ties and vests, cakes, flowers, hugs and kisses, receiving lines and guest books,  brightly ribboned gifts and thoughtful cards,  music and musicians, wrinkled faces and fresh baby skin, oooh's and ahhhh's...they are life-giving, enriching, dramatic, and so beautiful.

As we relax on the lake:  endless blue sky reflected on water, rice and weed beds, the chug of the motor, the ripples the pontoon makes on the water, the sun so life-giving and bright, the slight whip and whirr of my line as I cast, the leech and minnows that dance (for a time) on my hook, the thrill of reeling in a northern, a sunfish, a bass, a baby walleye (all good little fighters), my dog's excitement as she tries to kiss and bite my catch, Belle's bark as she impatiently waits for me to get my line back in the water...it's a beautiful respite, a time to be alone with God and His creation even while I am with my husband and dog.

As we relax at the lake:  the RV sitting in it's same spot for the last 6 years or so, the deck with it's "Beware of Dog" sign that doesn't really matter, the flowered flag waving (a different one this year), the decked out deck with furniture and shade umbrella, then the first step inside...and we are home, the recliner that fits my body perfectly, the perfect sized table, cooking on that little stove, trying to get groceries into that little fridge, washing dishes in my "playhouse" sink, the fun corner shower I bump my elbows on at times, the familiar towels, the resort bathhouse, the resort lodge...it is all calming to the soul and beautiful to me.

Again, I can use all my 5 senses for this beauty in God's world, for these beautiful experiences He affords me.

My family and friends are beautiful.  I find something beautiful about each of them with my eyes and my ears.  Some beauty I find deep within them by trial and error, by knowing them, by intuition.  Some share their beautiful thoughts, ideas, life.  Some invite me in.  For some, my life is intertwined with theirs in different, wondrous ways.

But, at the end of these two weeks, I, myself, feel very unbeautiful.  I feel I have been drinking from a deep well and taking it all in but giving nothing of beauty back to the world, back to God.  Sometimes I think it would be easier if I were beautiful on the outside, and wish I were...however, I have come to terms with how God made me and I know I do have beauty within, or had it.  I feel like I need to find part of myself again, so I have more to give.  Whatever happens or doesn't to the outside of me...I am going to get back to work on the inside of me, with God's help...so I can truly be a beautiful gift to Him and to the world.