Disillusioned

The calendar says it's summer, and it has been warm outside - my plants have the sun-damaged leaves to prove it. And yet my body, my cells, my very soul - rejects the notion. I am busier now than I was during the "school" year. It doesn't feel like the lazy days of summers of my youth and I must say, it's starting to feel like an angry sliver under my skin. A sore spot that reminds me daily, "You don't get a three month vacation any more."

I should be relaxing. I should be at the pool with the kids. I should be sipping fruity drinks while sitting on my patio listening to the sounds of the evening.

I should be, but I'm not.

Instead, I'm working more hours, tied to the invisible strings of my computer and having to go to the office nearly every day this week. I'm sending international emails, tracking down world-traveling speakers that are in various places around the globe, trying to get details on their upcoming visits to speak to our organization. I'm sending packages across crystal blue oceans and wishing I could fly with them to exotic far off lands. I'm breathing the reprocessed, dust-tinged recycled air-conditioned air of my office and of my home.

What I long to do is spread out a blanket on the grass and read one of the three books sitting on my nightstand. I long to write in my journal. I long to sit in the sun until my skin is burning and then jump in the cold water of our local swimming pool. I want to stroll the stalls of my local farmer's market on Tuesday nights to the sound of the local musicians and the smells of terriaki chicken sizzling on a grill and fresh waffle cones filled with sweet ice cream along Main Street. I want to stand out in the street in front of our house, chatting with neighbors until after dark while our kids play street games in the twilight.

I want to, but right now, it's just not happening.

I get one chance in the next two weeks to make something like this happen. Brad and I have greedily claimed Sunday as a day of rest this week. (That poor guy has been painting a house all week - if anyone deserves a day of rest, it's him.) We are taking the kids to the beach for the day and the agenda is PLAY. I plan on savoring every minute because the calendar tells me it will be awhile before there's another day like that one.

But there is hope, right? It is, after all, only June 30th. Maybe I need to give summer a chance . . .

Summer Sizzle

Yes, it's been one of those rare days in Oregon. The mercury in the thermometer has crept past 100 AND one of our sports teams has made good. YEAH BEAVERS - College World Series Champions! Oregon teams are notorious for choking at big time events so I'm so pleased to see this great group of athletes come from behind (yesterday - down five runs) to win the best of three series. Well done!

Yesterday was a day filled with cleaning and organizing. The story I wrote a few weeks ago about the Magic Milk Crate had inspired me to try to tackle the desk this weekend. But to do that, I needed to add a bookshelf to the family. Looking to adopt, I scanned the Craigslist adds and thought I had found just what I needed. Good looking, but cheap. Let's just say when you ask someone to rate their merchandise as poor, fair, good or excellent - BE SPECIFIC. The bookcase that was promised to be in "good or better" condition, was actually sporting a number of gouges on the sides. Fortunately, I'm married to the most incredible guy in the world, who willingly loaded said very "FAIR" bookcase in the truck, brought it home, and proceeded to do his magic with soap and water, wood stain and brown magic markers and - voila - in about an hour, that bookcase suddenly WAS in good condition. Once my well loved books and photos and dried arrangement of hydrangeas decorated the shelves, she was an absolute beauty. I could almost see her swaying with pride. This little venere, Dania maple wanabe was part of a family now - a family who would treat her with the respect she deserved as the guardian of one of our most precious treasures.

OK - did I mention that I only got about 4 hours of sleep last night? I think that explains the previous paragraph. The boy has daycamp this week and has to leave the house at 7:15 each morning to make the bus. Ouch - but the little camper was so cute. When I woke him this morning, he was fully dressed under the covers. He said he wanted to be "ready" when I woke him this morning. I assured him that I had planned for time to get dressed in the mornings and I wouldn't let him be late to the bus. Too cute! By the end of the week, I probably won't think it's that cute.

I totally missed Sunday Scribblings. I couldn't decide what to write. I wanted to be so clever and take the top 20 song titles and weave them into a story but I just couldn't get my brain to click in on that idea. Then I thought of telling everyone the mish mash of concerts I've attended in my life. It's like a cosmic joke when you look at the different kinds of artists I've sat, stood, swayed to over the past 24 years. Maybe I'll save that one for another time. My friend Amber's post was wonderful and I'm looking forward to reading more of the entries this week. To find them go here.


Movie Review - Saw "The Lakehouse" and was impressed. Nothing Oscar worthy but definitely a sweet and not too sappy story of these two kids in love with just one little problem - living two years apart. The story manages to suspend your disbelief just enough without it being too "X-file-ish" (don't get me wrong, LOVE the X-files). Some great supporting characters in the movie and well, Sandy and Keanu - they just have something that other onscreen couples don't have. I don't know that I'd really call it chemistry or anything really physically charged. To me, it's more that they seem like a REAL couple more than one that lives in some screenwriter's imagination. I could see him mowing the lawn and her planting her own petunias in the planters in front of their house, firing up the barbeque and throwing steaks on and calling the neighbors over for a beer. Anyway, I'd recommend it - a very safe PG for the younger crowd as well. I promised my daughter she could see it when it comes out on video. Saw trailers for "The Devil Wears Prada", Pirates II and Superman - can't wait to see them all!

Grateful Friday - top 5

Picture is from my Rose Garden Retreat

1. Baseball season for the little guy ended last night with his best performance of the season. A slamming hit to right field off a tough fastball. He played catcher for a few innings and did a fantastic job. He got lots of praise from his coach and the other parents and that was so good for his little ego.

2. Warm, sunny weather is here and we have a pass to the local swimming pool. The newly renovated pool has a giant water slide and a deliciously warm "kiddie pool" that actually goes to a depth of 4.5 ft. Lot's of fun. (The bad news, our air conditioner is on the blink and talking to the local repair shop it's going to cost at least $134 for them to even drive to my house on an emergency repair call. It's supposed to be 98 by Sunday and we don't even own any fans anymore. But hey, there's always the pool, right?)

3. A great afternoon with my sweetie yesterday making strawberry freezer jam. Tiny, plump red berries, smashed and mixed to make the nectar of the gods come winter time. Yum. Lot's of good conversation and just side, by side working time.

4. A date with my Bible-study gals to see the chick flick "The Lake House" on Sunday. Just hoping that I don't cry too loudly during the sad parts!

5. No real commitments until tonight. A day to catch up on work, blogging and laundry!

A Great Wish

I love this story! I want to be pals with this little girl - she sounds like so much fun! I'm going to pray for a miracle that will resolve her medical condition so she can grow up and fully express every creative bone in her little body. Check out her story . . .

Little Girl Becomes Superhero for a Day

Sunday Scribbling - Bed

Camping. Not one of my favorite pastimes. I didn’t grow up camping, it’s more something I inherited through marriage, like an in-law that you have nothing in common with but you smile and make polite conversation with. Brad - he practically grew up in a tent, spending summer after summer in the state parks. So when we got married, I gave it the old college try. We bought our first tent, a little three-person blue dome tent from REI and christened it “Love Shack II”.

One of our first after-marriage, before-kids, camping trips was in the Columbia River George. It was a small campsite, near the river and within a 20 minute driving distance to the quaint town of Hood River. It was a bargaining chip. I’ll camp as long as I can window shop for a few hours on one of the days. It was a smaller campsite and not terribly busy that late spring weekend. One reason might have been the proximity to the railroad. A few hours after turning in for the night, I was wakened by the sound of a train. One that sounded like it would cut a path right through the front door of the tent. The noise woke me right up and I sat up with a start. Brad slept soundly through the commotion and barely stirred.

I laid there trying to get my heart rhythm back to normal and trying to get that drowsy, sleeping in the fresh air feeling back that would put me back to sleep. Still getting used to “sharing” a bed, I shifted a couple of times on the queen sized air mattress, trying to find a good spot. Finally, I had found the sweet spot with just enough air and just enough cushion and I felt myself drifting off to visions of five-star hotel rooms with thermostats, crisp white sheets and bathrooms just a few steps away.

In the stillness, I felt the mattress shift. I looked over at my sleeping husband. He was out like a rock. He hadn’t moved. Hmmm. Laying still, I felt my body getting heavier, the sleep invading my body from my toes to my head – WAIT, there it was AGAIN. I didn’t imagine that. The mattress was MOVING even though Brad and I were perfectly still.

My first thought, earthquake. My second, volcano. We live in one of the areas of the world where seismic activity is not unheard of. With a dad who’s a geologist, I knew all the possibilities. Now I was wide awake, searching the memory archives for what you do in case of an earthquake if there are no door frames or desks to hide under. Seriously – what do you do in case of an earthquake when you’re out in the MIDDLE OF NOWHERE?

I laid there with pounding heart – again. Trying not to over react, I did end up waking Brad and asking him if he had felt the movement. With a sleepy, newlywed grin he said no, but offered to make the mattress move again if I wanted. Not funny, I said – exhausted and overwhelmed by adrenaline for the second time in one night.

Finally, sometime around daybreak I must have slept for a bit. Groggy-eyed and grumpy the next day, I helped break camp. Underneath our tent we were amazed to find 3 fresh mounds of dirt. Mr. Gopher had been the one making the earth shake under my mattress.

As a girl that really does NOT appreciate the fuzzy and cute factor of ANY rodent, I think I would have preferred the earthquake. The story doesn’t end there. Over the years, my nighttime campsite visitors have included a raccoon, drunk neighbors and a black bear. Needless to say, camping is not one of my favorite activities. I’d much rather spend the day outside somewhere, have a campfire, and then go to sleep, IN MY OWN BED!

To read more Sunday Scribblings, go here.

A Public Service Message on Intent

A public service message about intent. Make sure that if you offer something, you’re ready to deliver.

Yesterday, I was feeling frisky. I had been to work for an hour, rushed to the bead store and managed to make teacher gifts in record time. (Stone pendants on sterling silver chain – for less than $8 each! Made in 20 minutes flat!) Went to the school and picked up the ecstatic rugrats from their last 1/2 day of school and we headed off to meet my sister and her kids for lunch. I was feeling good. Still floating on a high from my mini-retreat earlier in the week, a finished draft of a big project that I’ve been working on, and the amazing news that earlier this week, my post for Blogging 4 Books was in the finals. This one gave me extra air in my jets as this is the first writing contest I’ve ever entered, and even though it’s on the smaller side (30 entries) it did give me a boost to hear I’d made it to the final round. Like I said, I was feelin’ frisky – and I should know that’s when I get into trouble.

At lunch my little niece E. says, “Can I come spend the night at your house?” The normally high-maintenance fussy little blonde-blue-eyed munchkin was being very good at the burger joint while her younger sister A. was crying over the lack of a bandaid for her sore thumb. But you have to understand A. – if ever there was a poster child for an adult that is going to develop OCD, she’s it. And I don’t mean any disrespect to anyone who might suffer from that condition, it’s just that I’ve never seen a more PICKY kid in my life. The waitress kindly brought a bandaid when she learned of A’s distress. But when we opened it up, it was – gasp – blue. You could see the look of disgust on her 4-year old face. I simply cannot wear a blue bandaid, it looks like a boy’s bandaid! She continued to cry throughout the meal. My sister tried to console her. Me – I would have taken her for a timeout to the car. My sister and I have very different parenting techniques. Needless to say, my kids – very low maintenance, her kids – off the charts when it comes to maintenance!

So in a moment of delusion I said to E, “You know honey, if you had packed your overnight things, you could have spent the night tonight. We’ll have to plan it for another night this summer.”

To which, my sister quickly piped in, “You know – I just bought them new outfits at the mall. They could do it tonight.”

I felt the rope tighten. I was thinking about well behaved E. when I made that offer. She was including whiny A. in the deal. Back paddle, back paddle, back paddle . . . .

Well, long story short, I drove away from the burger joint with my kids and my two nieces in the car. It was off to Target to buy nightgowns and toothbrushes (A. couldn’t tolerate the thought of wearing a t-shirt of my son’s for jammies and once E. caught wind that A. was getting new jammies, the jig was up), movies, popcorn, snacks and fresh play-dough for the evening.

Here’s just a smattering of the comments throughout the evening.

“Auntie Kim, can you please take the nuts out of this bread?” No – in fact I can’t E. It’s 8 grain bread, the nuts are baked in.

After I have totally cleaned the kitchen from the dinner prep. “Auntie Kim, I don’t like this sandwich. Can you make me grilled cheese in stead?”

“Auntie Kim – does this popcorn taste like our popcorn at home?” I have no idea, why don’t you TRY IT?!!!

A. shudders as I bring out a non-gendered plum colored sleeping bag for her for the night. With no Barbie or Disney princess on it, she is thrown into a panic. “Is that a boy or girl sleeping bag Auntie Kim?” It’s neither I explain. “But who sleeps in it?” she wants to know, my son or my daughter. I patiently explain that both kids have used it. She finally accepts that it is ok and the only other option is a hunter green sleeping bag that is obviously male gendered in color.

By bedtime, I felt like my brain would explode from the high-pitched noise that had been the constant background that has been my house for the past 8 hours. Bed was a welcome respite until the fun started again this morning. They are wonderful girls and I love them dearly but I think I’ll be smiling when I drop them off at their mom’s later this morning. God is continuing to teach me about intent – the lesson here, don’t offer unless you’re willing to deliver.

SEGWAY HERE – Speaking of smiling, the picture today is of my favorite new rose I discovered at my retreat at the rose garden this week. It’s called “Distant Drums” and the middle section is a lovely fleshy brown and it blends to pink as the petals go out. It was truly spectacular and I can’t wait to begin the search for one to put in my garden. Have a great weekend everyone!

Retreat

Yesterday was a very good day. All school year long I had been telling myself that I would take a day for me. No work, no appointments, no obligations, no errands. Just a day for me to do what I wanted and go where I wanted without having to think about anyone else. Last week I realized time was running short – if I was going to do this, it had to be now.

My job is such that I just need to work 15-20 hours per week and I need to show my face at the office for about ten of those hours so I’m blessed with great flexibility in my schedule. The unfortunate downside to that is that the days can fill up quickly with all sorts of things but yesterday was one of those rare days where there was nothing on the calendar. So over the weekend, I made the commitment to take “my day” on Tuesday.

It was a mental wrestling match from that point forward. There is a project with a deadline looming in front of me and even though I put in about 5 hours on it on Monday, I still wasn’t happy with my progress. Should I really still take the day off when I knew there was work I could be doing? “Yes, yes, yes!” my spirit cried in its weak whisper of a voice. “You need this time – you deserve this time! You’ll be a better wife/mother/employee for this time!” it said with more force. “Take it! Take it now!”

So after getting the kids off to school yesterday morning, I made a quick cup of tea, loaded some books, my journal and the new digital camera into the car and set off. I really wasn’t sure where I was going and what I was supposed to do. I quickly slipped into my old patterns of behavior and thought, “I’ll just stop to do a few errands.” I went into the local craft superstore to buy some supplies for making one of the teachers a gift. Browsing the aisles didn’t bring the pleasure that it usually did so I rounded up what I needed, paid and left. This kind of shopping wasn’t the activity that was going to feed my soul today (although somedays, it works wonders!).

I hopped on the freeway and decided to go to the Portland Rose Garden. We had been on Mother’s day but not many of the flowers were blooming at that time. I love taking pictures of flowers and thought that would be a relaxing way to start the morning.

When I got there, I lost myself in the beauty. You can see in the pictures that the gardens were in full bloom. I walked through rows of roses called, Double Delight, George Burns, Distant Drummers (my new favorite!), Honey Dijon, and more. I LOVE DIGITAL CAMERAS. I love the fact I can tell right then and there if I “got” the shot. My first few attempts at the micro setting on the camera were a bit rough, but by the end, I was really pleased with the shots. I’ll be posting lots of them on my blog entries in the coming weeks.

After taking pictures for about an hour, I found a secluded bench and sat down with my Bible and journal and did some business with God. Sure, we have a great relationship, but like any good one, it takes work. We spent time talking and more importantly, I spent time listening. It was a wonderful time where He spoke to the aches of my heart and to the desires of my soul. He revealed some areas that I need to work on – especially in the areas of intent. This is so key as I continue to dip my big toe into the writing world, even through blogging. Who am I really writing to please? Why do I seem to need the constant validation and affirmation of others in order to express what God has given me? Shouldn’t it be enough that I want to please Him? It hasn’t been lately. I find myself constantly checking my blog for comments, looking for validation from co-workers and even my fellow volunteers in my women’s group for the validation that what I’m writing is any good. Why is it so difficult to trust that once someone has given you that kind of compliment, the gift doesn’t go away, and you can still write well, even if they or others don’t say so? I know it’s the nature of writers to need that constant validation, but I feel like for me, it’s becoming a stumbling block spiritually and even in the act of my writing. I’m not sure I could have articulated this to myself without that time away to think, pray and process - so for that, I’m so excited at the results of my retreat.

This is getting a bit long, so maybe I’ll save the rest of the retreat report for tomorrow. There were more exciting things that happened, the ladies in the red hats, CRAZY man at the lunch joint, and gaping mud pits - but just not enough time to write them this morning. Stay tuned, for more of “The Day of Kim’s Life . . .” Ha! Thanks to you for stopping by and I hope that maybe this inspires you to plan one of these days for yourself. It is a wonderful gift you can give yourself and your family.
Blessings!

A very good day . . .

I took a mini retreat today and will write more about it tomorrow, but for now just one of the MANY pictures that I took today at Portland's Rose Garden. And my baby graduated from 6th grade tonight (corny, I know - but it was a cute little ceremony and she was proud as anything to participate). She's the babe in blue and that's her good buddy signing her autograph book. Can she really be leaving elementary school this week? *sigh*

More on my very good day tomorrow. Going to bed with a smile in my heart . . .

The Magical Milk Crate

Sorry for double dipping and being long winded, but I'm using this story for my Sunday Scribbling prompt - mystery, and for a contest Deb had linked on her blog called Blogging 4 Books. Their prompt was magic so I thought I could write one story for both. Thanks for indulging me!


Kim reached across her desk to retrieve the file folder she needed for her current writing project. As she did, her elbow brushed against the teetering stack of papers on the corner of the desk. She watched in dismay as the papers started a slow motion free fall off the edge of the desk. They were quite elegant in their fall, like synchronized swimmers each diving in turn from the edge of the pool into the crystal blue water. Only they weren’t swimmers, they were months worth of papers, receipts, bills, junk mail and who knows what else and they were falling quicker and quicker to the floor around Kim’s feet.

“Great,” Kim muttered. With a heavy sigh, she bent over in the chair and started to collect the mess of papers. I just can’t work like this anymore, she thought. I’m going to have to bite the bullet and clean this mess.

I need something to help me organize. She wandered through the house looking for a container big enough for the stacks of papers that covered her desk, filing cabinet and book shelf. If I can just clear the surfaces and get everything that needs to be sorted in one place, I’ll be in business. In the back of her mind a voice started a familiar warning, “Be careful. Don’t throw away something important.” She hated that voice. It was the one that kept her from really letting go of things. Like the green dress hanging in her closet that she hadn’t worn for eight years. Like the bag of socks her mom had given her in colors like mustard brown, hot pink and lemon yellow. She knew she’d never wear them, but they were brand new and had the tags on them, and she might have an outfit that she would wear those socks with someday. She wished she could just know, really know for sure, when to let things go, when to throw them away and that she really wouldn’t need them in the future.

She walked out in the garage looking for a big Rubbermaid bin to throw the papers in. They were all filled with things for the garage sale she still hadn’t planned, or filled with the kids’ art projects from school, or filled with old shoes and boots that they might need when the weather turned cold. The only empty container in the garage was a milk crate that her husband Brad had used to bring some stuff home from school last week. That’ll have to do, she thought and she brought the bright blue crate into the house.

I’ll just do a little pre-sorting, she thought. Let’s start with what we know is garbage. She threw a soccer camp registration form in the crate along with an advertisement for a lawn care service. A few more pieces of junk mail went in and Kim added an empty envelope to the crate.

“No” A voice said in Kim’s ear.

She looked up from the pile, surprised. She turned to look behind her. Had Brad or one of the kids come home early? She looked at the dog sleeping on the couch. Nicky was very protective, if anyone had come in the house, she would have barked.

“No, don’t throw that away,” the voice said again.

Kim sat dumfounded and confused. Wow, I must be staying up too late at night.

“Take that envelope out of the crate,” the voice said louder this time.

Kim reached in and looked at the envelope. It was from the local home improvement store. She thought it was junk, but opened it to see what the advertisement was inside. To her amazement, she found a check for $59.00. “Wow – this is the rebate check for the dryer we just bought. I’m so glad I didn’t throw this out.” That was odd, she thought. How did I know not to throw that away?

Next into the crate went one of the pieces of mail from the local candidate running for city council. Kim looked at his picture and read his quick bullet point promises on the glossy card. Hmmm . . . he sounds intelligent and like he’s got some good ideas, maybe I’ll vote for him. She tossed the card into the milk crate.

“Liar and cheat,” the voice said in her ear.

There was no denying it this time. Kim heard the voice loud and clear and she looked incredulously at the milk crate. Oh my gosh – she thought – the crate is doing that!

To test her theory, she placed in three pieces of obvious junk mail. Nothing, no warning, no voice. Then she put in her most recent bank statement.

“Keep that,” she heard.

A smile spread across her face. Wow – this is great! She emptied the junk mail out of the crate and tossed it in the garbage. Let’s see how well this will work. She grabbed the bag of colorful socks from her mom and dumped them into the crate.

“Keep the lemon yellow ones. You’ll need them for a Halloween costume in two years. Get rid of the rest.” Kim smiled as she tucked the lemon yellow socks into her drawer and bagged the rest up for giving to the local charity shop. Next was the green dress. She hesitated for just a moment, she loved that dress, the flowy fabric with tropical flowers in the background. It was a few sizes too small, but she had always hoped she might loose the weight and get back into it. It was just taking up space in the closet though. Gingerly, she laid it in the milk crate.

“Out of style and bad color for you. Get rid of it.” Kim hesitated. The crate added, “You won’t be that size again.” Ouch. Kim angrily grabbed the dress from the crate and held it in her hands staring at it. She let out a sigh and thought, well at least I know now. She put it in the bag with the socks and put her hands on her hips. What next? The growling in her stomach decided for her – lunch.

Opening the fridge Kim grabbed the package of turkey meat. It was two days past the expiration date. With a nasty food poisoning experience as a senior in high school, she was always hesitant to eat anything past the expiration. Was it safe to make a sandwich with? She put the turkey in the crate.

“Good for two more days, then throw it away.” Excellent, she thought! This is going to be great.!

For the rest of the day, Kim went through her house, room by room, putting all sorts of things in the magic milk crate. Finally the mystery of what to keep and what to get rid of was solved! She put all the children’s artwork in the crate piece by piece and with each one, the crate faithfully told her the ones she would want to keep and which ones to throw away. Clothes, paperwork, pantry items – they all went into the crate and it told her what to keep and what to get rid of.

Kim felt light and like she was walking taller by the end of the day. When Brad walked in the door after work, he immediately noticed the desk. “Wow – you’ve been busy today!” he said admiring the clean surfaces. “What got into you? You hate throwing things away.”

“Oh, I guess I was just in the mood today.” Kim said with a smile sitting at the sparkling clean desk. Brad bent down to collect his welcome home kiss.

“What’s this doing in here?” Brad asked as he picked up the magical milk crate. As he picked up the crate, Kim cringed as she saw his left hand with the glint of his wedding band through the holes in the side of the crate. She waited for a breathless minute thinking about the ruthless honesty of the crate and how it had told the truth about all the things she was holding onto that were of no value. Would it have a judgment on her darling Brad that might not be favorable?

To her relief, as Brad turned his back and carried the milk crate to the garage, the voice in her ear said, “Oh this one – this one is definitely worth keeping around.”

No mystery there.

ABC Meme

OK - What exactly is a meme? I've seen them floating around out there but I'm not sure of the real and technical definition. I get the idea that you are answering questions or filling in blanks, but what does "meme" really mean? Let me know if you can help out. Until then, I'm taking the universal tag that Amber put out there to her readers to do this one.

Accent - Oregon? Do we have an accent? Grew up with a mom from England and a dad from Oklahoma so I can slide into a southern twang or sound like a girl from across the pond if I need to. Oh, come on, when do I really NEED to? It's just for fun. Pass the Earl Gray lovey . . .

Booze - No beer or red wine - too bitter for me. (I don't like coffee either and last night at book club we had a discussion about this - some of the gals thought they had heard that if you didn't like beer, you usually weren't a fan of coffee either - hmmmm.) A dry or sweet white wine is preferred, mixed drinks ok but I'm too cheap to pay for them when we're out. I'll usually have them at home or at someone's house if they're mixing.

Chores I hate - Cleaning the bathroom although I love it when it's done.

Dogs/Cats - both. Had an awesome cat named Leonard (huge, gray tabby lover-boy). I cried like a broken-hearted teenager when he died a few years ago. We have a dog, Nicky, who is like a little princess in the body of a butch cattle-dog. She is so sweet with the kids but a very people-needy dog. Sometimes she can drive me nuts following me from room to room.

Essential Electronics - Computer. I could live without everything else pretty much. I like having the security of a cell phone, but I'm not a big fan of using them. When I travel, I always take a flashlight - especially to hotels. I'm always worried if they should loose power and there are no candles or emergency lights, how will I find my way out?

Favorite Pastime - Reading. No question. Second favorite, buying books.

Gold/Silver - both. Depends on the mood and what I'm wearing. When I make jewelry, I tend to make more with silver because it just seems to look better.

Hometown - Born in Omaha, Nebraska. Lived there until my 8th birthday. Literally, we drove into the state of Oregon on my 8th birthday and I spent it in a hotel. My parents felt bad about it but I thought it was great because we got to swim in the hotel pool on my birthday. I've lived in Oregon since then, not much for wandering . . .

Insomnia - Yes, at times. It alternates between great and really horrible. Some nights the peace and quiet and extra energy make for very productive study, writing, reading times. Other times it really sucks and makes life miserable from the lack of good sleep.

Job Title - sore subject. I hate my work one, so I'll tell you what I'd like it to be: "Communications Specialist". There. Now doesn't that sound like a job I'd be good at? I think so too. Now, to just get up the nerve to ask for it . . .

Kids - awesome. Supergirl - almost 12 and Wonderboy, almost 9. Very clever and cute and smart and . . . . yeah, yeah, yeah . . . enough already.

Lies Told - Tough one. Not very good at it and ALWAYS afraid of being caught. One night when I was 16, I went to an under-aged dance place downtown after my parents had told me I couldn't go. I was so paranoid there would be a news crew there filming for the evening news or there would be some friend of a friend there that would tell their mom I was there and word would get back to my mom, that I couldn't even enjoy the evening. I was miserable all night! I'm no goody-goody when it comes to this, I can think of very elaborate stories and tales to tell, I'm just a big scaredy cat when it comes to telling them.

Most Admired Trait - hmmmm. Maybe consistency? Ha - look at that, "MAYBE consistency". HA - maybe not? I hate being left out of things so I think I try really hard to include people - maybe that would be it. Oh, and I'm not afraid of speaking in public. Not sure how great I am, but it doesn't freak me out.

Number of sexual partners - *blush typing the words* - One and only one. Plenty for me (and don't you forget it honey!).

Phobia - Rats. I read a book in college in a "Literature of the Holocaust" class that gave me nightmares for weeks. Soldiers used rats to torture a young woman and I'll just leave it at that . . .

Quote - Indulge me here, "A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people." Thomas Mann

" . . .when we reduce Christian spirituality to math we defile the Holy. I thought that was very beautiful and comforting because I have never been good at math. Many of our attempts to understand the Christian faith have only cheapened it. I can no more understand the totality of God than the pancake I made for breakfast understands the complexity of me." Don Miller, Blue Like Jazz

"In a contagious world, we learn to keep our distance. If we get too close to those who are suffering, we might get infected by their pain. It may not be convenient or comfortable. But only when you get close enough to catch the hurt will they be close enough to catch your love." John Ortberg, Love Beyond Reason

Religion - Follower of the Bible and teachings of Jesus

Siblings - One sister, 4 years younger than me. Different as night and day - she was homecoming princess, dance team, invited to all the cool parties. I was academic, tennis playing, working through high-school, never had a boyfriend, not that popular and awkward. Love her dearly, but in small doses.

Time to wake up - When I have to. Usually by 6:30 am during the week. A bit later on weekends.

Unusual talent - Can figure out the ends of books and movies at about 95% accuracy. Who will die, who will end up together, what will happen, etc. Only been surprised a few times (including The Sixth Sense and I was a mix of pleased and angry at the same time!).

Vegetable I hate - Cauliflower - gag! I can't even stand the smell of it cooking!

Worst habit - Thinking I'm right and adamantly arguing it, when I'm not. Eating too much sugar.

Xrays - once for pneumonia, one for smashing my thumb in my car door, the rest just dental and ultrasounds. Never have broken a bone.

Yummy Dishes I make - I'm not a very enthusiastic cook, I don't love it. I do it because I have to. My family likes my lasagna, mexican meatloaf and anything I bake. I got a recipe from a friend at college for some killer apricot coconut bars that I make at the holidays.

Zodiac - Leo. Though I don't subscribe much to following the zodiac symbols, I'll admit I match up pretty close to the characteristics of a Leo.

There's me! I tag - anyone who wants to do this! Have a great weekend and if you're looking for something to jog you're writing juices, check out this weekend's prompt for Sunday Scribbling!

My New Mantra

The creative writing well is a bit dry this week but I thought I'd share with you my new favorite quote.

"There is no such thing as a perfect parent, but there's a million ways to be a good one."

- from "Cheaper by the Dozen 2"

Sunday Scribbling - Earliest Memory

Summer Sweetness

July 1970
Sweet juice
dribbles down my chin
you, my summer
teaching me to eat, spit
eat, spit
tiny treasures to offer
the summer fairies
as they rest their
gossamer wings in the heat of the day.
My hero,
my summer,
my god at two,
teaching me the delights of the day.

The Fear Factor

Fear. It's one of those things that we all must deal with in our lives. Today I was watching daytime t.v. while filing and clearing the mighty mess called my desk. Tyra Banks' show today was all about facing your fears. It started with Tyra trying to face her screeching, hyperventalating, hand waving fear of - dolphins. What in the world? I have NEVER heard of anyone being afraid of these delicate, lovely, intelligent sea creatures. What happened to bugs, rats, snakes and the like? Dolphins? OK, in all fairness, she really did seemed freaked out as they filmed her at Sea World trying to get in the dolphin tank and work up the courage to touch the tail of one of these terrifying beasts (groan). Next up to bat was a young woman with a fear of pennies. You know, Honest Abe, copper colored units of currency - pennies! Tyra buried a $6,000 watch in an aquarium of pennies and challenged the young woman to reach in and grab it. You would have thought it was a tank of pirahnas the way that young gal suspiciously eyed the thousands of pennies and only after the soothing talk of Tyra and a psychologist, could this young gal put a few fingers in to gently scrape pennies to the side until she found her treasure.

While it made for some entertaining watching this morning, it got me to thinking about fears. How is it that we can be crippled by something that others can look at and say, "There's really nothing there to be afraid of." Think of the pennies. They can't hurt you, they are inanimate objects, they can't even move unless someone moves them. And yet, this woman's life was affected by this fear because pennies are a part of everyday life! Fear can stop us cold, even if it's the irrational kind.

I remember having a conversation with a friend about a year ago, sharing with her what would be a "dream job". I had always loved writing in school and had done well in all kinds of projects, but had never really found a way to use that skill and passion beyond school. Sadly, most of my jobs had very limited outlets for this skill and that part of me seemed to go into hibernation, deep in my soul. When she asked me what was keeping me from finding a way either through work or ministry to use that gift/skill/passion, the answer was easy. Fear. A totally irrational, unsubstantiated fear that anyone that would look at my work would instantly double over in pain and shout, "MY EYES! MY EYES! THEY BURN! - Take that filth away!" Or worse yet, they would shrug their shoulders and say, "Hmm, that's interesting." And I'd be left with the gnawing feeling wondering, "Did they like it? Did they hate it?" Totally irrational - I know I can write a decent sentence or two. I know I have the skills to tell a story or make an argument on a page. I know I have the grammar know-how to string words and punctuation together and have them make sense. I know all this, and yet, the fear is still there. Not just "there", but seeped into the deepest core of me and crevices of my being. Like an unwanted stain on my favorite blouse, something that I just couldn't get out.

Until about a year ago. I know you all don't share my beliefs, but I hope you'll bear with me as I share what I consider a miracle. God has worked in his tender way to force me to put my hand in the pennies so to speak. I was given the dream assignment of writing a devotional guide for our ministry that sends workers into the poorest parts of the world to provide humanitarian aid and training to those that seek futures free from despair and poverty. I wrote with passion and joy as I saw my gifts being used in a way that honored my God and my brothers and sisters who were serving Him. I was so blessed by positive comments from people I really respected including a co-worker that I knew did not have "b.s." gene in his body and would give it to me straight if it stunk. I still have the post-it-note with his very complimentary comments on it and look at it when I need a boost. I took a class two weeks ago to work on my writing skills and was blessed again by confirmations from the very well known and published professor that I "have a gift" for this and should pursue this on to another level. Wow! God is so good to give us what we need to overcome those fears!

And then there is all of my new bloging friends. Your comments are like manna from heaven on days when my self-esteem is hungry for food. Your stories inspire me, motivate me and challenge me to do things I wouldn't have considered a year ago. And I have learned so much about being honest and real and transparent. Honesty has a way of knocking Fear off his feet and allowing us the chance to kick him off the path and move forward with our lives. You all have taught me that there is hurt and healing and forgiveness and humor and love and blessings and bitterness and joy and so much more out there - and it needs to be shared. And words are such a beautiful vehicle for sharing it. And so, I won't let the fear win. I will keep writing. I will put my hand in the pennies and pull out the treasure. I hope you will, too.