For those wondering, yesterday, I saw the missing gentleman from Wisconsin. He was walking down the beach. I almost missed him. He looks really thin, but still has his sweet smile and brief nod to passersby. I am happy.
For today, I wish you happy updates, and I wish you
Blessings
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Ruminations III
People Missing:
Here in paradise, I am missing my people. Proof that it is not so much where you are or what you are doing, but more about who you are with (sorry, Betsy, I know I finished with a preposition, but the proper way just sounds stilted and snooty :-)). Please, do not think I am complaining. I would not do that for fear that all you at home in the gloom and cold will want to line up and smack me upside the head upon my return.
Homesickness:
The first time I remember being homesick was when I was about nine years old. I went to Memphis to spend some time with my cousins. They were wonderful to me, but they did everything so differently. It was on that trip that I had shrimp cocktail for the first time. I ate all the tails. I knew no better. I was mortified. My aunt and uncle were concerned about the effect eating shrimp tails would have on my digestive system. Just possibly there might have been some giggles from my cousins as well. This was the beginning of my awareness that dumb moves, stupid choices, and dorkified comments would be more the rule than the exception.
As an adult, I suffered breath-stealing, heart-clinching homesickness while spending many days in Boston with a cousin who was going through a stem-cell transplant. She was to be there for weeks, and so family pitched in to be with her throughout. I loved her. She was so fun. She was one of the best people I have ever known. She exuded a child-like wonder at all this beautiful world has to offer, even during her darkest days. But, I remember one day, as she was going through a procedure, and I was sitting in a hospital waiting room, thinking I might literally expire on the spot if I did not hear Mr. Lincoln's voice. I found a pay phone tucked away, called him collect, and as soon as I heard his
voice, I began to weep, uncontrollably weep. Mr. L loves me, and so my angst is painful for him, but
he also knows me well, and knows what "support" is going to be most helpful to me. As a result, he very gently and kindly reminded me that this was "an all volunteer army" (a popular reminder in our family when people complain about the hardships that come due to one's own choices), that I would be fine, and that my cousin needed me. I was still homesick, but he had given me what I needed in that moment.
I am not homesick here. The island is too familiar. It is a bit of a paradox, however, that my familiarity with the surroundings brings both comfort and melancholia.
Dear God in Heaven:
On this end of the island, we do not see the sun set as though it is dropping into the ocean. There is a dogleg that obscures it, however, the sky does change colors to alert those on this end of the island that the day is coming to a close. Last night, outside my window, I could see the most amazing cloud formations, and decided to go out and take a few pictures. I can honestly say that I have never seen a more beautiful sky. The colors were exquisite, the clouds majestic. I so wished that my mother had stayed an extra day to see this grand display. I literally said aloud, " dear God, why do you bless us so?" Whenever I witness a beautiful sunrise or sunset, I think to myself "what a gift." Day could begin and end like the flipping of a switch, but instead, it is gradual and exciting and peaceful, and beyond beautiful. I need to be more aware at home.
An Observation:
People over sixty hurt. Either their backs hurt, or their knees, or their hips, or their feet, or any combination. Almost everyone is listing to one side or the other.
Why Spend Less When You Can Pay More
For breakfast this morning, I had the most delicious donut made, covered in toffee pieces, chocolate, and caramel. Needless to say, a bit of extra walking was called for to work off those calories (anyone who knows me well is overcome with incredulous guffaws), so I decided to walk to my favorite ice cream shop, Pinnochio's for lunch. As an aside, there is a "beach foodie" shop called Gepetto's where a $15.00 piece of pizza can be had. At Pinnochio's my mother ordered a waffle cone with coffee ice cream. You will think I am exaggerating, but, I promise, I am not when I tell you that they put at least a quart of ice cream in that cone. She gave it the old college try, but was unable to finish it. My favorite flavor is called Wedding Bells. It is almond ice cream with sliced almonds. I am of the mind that ice cream is totally wasted on those cake cones. I much prefer a sugar cone, but a sugar cone comes with three dips of ice cream, which is not more than I can eat, but much more than I want to eat. So, I buy a kiddie amount of ice cream (1 1/2 dips) and have them put it in a sugar cone. Now, my $3.00 cone will cost me $5.50, but as I say, why spend less when you can pay more?
Trivia Crack on Steroids:
Because I did not want to get carried away in my exercise regime, I took a short cut to the ice cream shop and ran into a lovely lady who was full of questions. "Did you see the Snowy Plovers," she asked. "Possibly, but I haven't a clue what they look like," I replied. "Well, if you walk down to mile marker 1, you will see them. They are tiny," she said with great authority. "I am staying around mile marker 1, so, yes, I believe I saw a bunch of them," I, with great pleasure, answered. "There are only a few on the island!" I lose; spin again.
Well, it has been a quiet day. I painted a couple rudimentary water color cards, walked about 5 miles, eaten a pound of sugar, now I shall head to the pool, even though it is cloudy and cool, and kill some brain cells reading a Danielle Steel novel. Do not judge. I am on vacation. As always, when I blog on my IPad, there are technical anomalies, so please forgive poor grammar and typos.
Today, I wish you peace, something decadently sweet to eat, and I wish you
Blessings
Here in paradise, I am missing my people. Proof that it is not so much where you are or what you are doing, but more about who you are with (sorry, Betsy, I know I finished with a preposition, but the proper way just sounds stilted and snooty :-)). Please, do not think I am complaining. I would not do that for fear that all you at home in the gloom and cold will want to line up and smack me upside the head upon my return.
Homesickness:
The first time I remember being homesick was when I was about nine years old. I went to Memphis to spend some time with my cousins. They were wonderful to me, but they did everything so differently. It was on that trip that I had shrimp cocktail for the first time. I ate all the tails. I knew no better. I was mortified. My aunt and uncle were concerned about the effect eating shrimp tails would have on my digestive system. Just possibly there might have been some giggles from my cousins as well. This was the beginning of my awareness that dumb moves, stupid choices, and dorkified comments would be more the rule than the exception.
As an adult, I suffered breath-stealing, heart-clinching homesickness while spending many days in Boston with a cousin who was going through a stem-cell transplant. She was to be there for weeks, and so family pitched in to be with her throughout. I loved her. She was so fun. She was one of the best people I have ever known. She exuded a child-like wonder at all this beautiful world has to offer, even during her darkest days. But, I remember one day, as she was going through a procedure, and I was sitting in a hospital waiting room, thinking I might literally expire on the spot if I did not hear Mr. Lincoln's voice. I found a pay phone tucked away, called him collect, and as soon as I heard his
voice, I began to weep, uncontrollably weep. Mr. L loves me, and so my angst is painful for him, but
he also knows me well, and knows what "support" is going to be most helpful to me. As a result, he very gently and kindly reminded me that this was "an all volunteer army" (a popular reminder in our family when people complain about the hardships that come due to one's own choices), that I would be fine, and that my cousin needed me. I was still homesick, but he had given me what I needed in that moment.
I am not homesick here. The island is too familiar. It is a bit of a paradox, however, that my familiarity with the surroundings brings both comfort and melancholia.
Dear God in Heaven:
On this end of the island, we do not see the sun set as though it is dropping into the ocean. There is a dogleg that obscures it, however, the sky does change colors to alert those on this end of the island that the day is coming to a close. Last night, outside my window, I could see the most amazing cloud formations, and decided to go out and take a few pictures. I can honestly say that I have never seen a more beautiful sky. The colors were exquisite, the clouds majestic. I so wished that my mother had stayed an extra day to see this grand display. I literally said aloud, " dear God, why do you bless us so?" Whenever I witness a beautiful sunrise or sunset, I think to myself "what a gift." Day could begin and end like the flipping of a switch, but instead, it is gradual and exciting and peaceful, and beyond beautiful. I need to be more aware at home.
An Observation:
People over sixty hurt. Either their backs hurt, or their knees, or their hips, or their feet, or any combination. Almost everyone is listing to one side or the other.
Why Spend Less When You Can Pay More
For breakfast this morning, I had the most delicious donut made, covered in toffee pieces, chocolate, and caramel. Needless to say, a bit of extra walking was called for to work off those calories (anyone who knows me well is overcome with incredulous guffaws), so I decided to walk to my favorite ice cream shop, Pinnochio's for lunch. As an aside, there is a "beach foodie" shop called Gepetto's where a $15.00 piece of pizza can be had. At Pinnochio's my mother ordered a waffle cone with coffee ice cream. You will think I am exaggerating, but, I promise, I am not when I tell you that they put at least a quart of ice cream in that cone. She gave it the old college try, but was unable to finish it. My favorite flavor is called Wedding Bells. It is almond ice cream with sliced almonds. I am of the mind that ice cream is totally wasted on those cake cones. I much prefer a sugar cone, but a sugar cone comes with three dips of ice cream, which is not more than I can eat, but much more than I want to eat. So, I buy a kiddie amount of ice cream (1 1/2 dips) and have them put it in a sugar cone. Now, my $3.00 cone will cost me $5.50, but as I say, why spend less when you can pay more?
Trivia Crack on Steroids:
Because I did not want to get carried away in my exercise regime, I took a short cut to the ice cream shop and ran into a lovely lady who was full of questions. "Did you see the Snowy Plovers," she asked. "Possibly, but I haven't a clue what they look like," I replied. "Well, if you walk down to mile marker 1, you will see them. They are tiny," she said with great authority. "I am staying around mile marker 1, so, yes, I believe I saw a bunch of them," I, with great pleasure, answered. "There are only a few on the island!" I lose; spin again.
Well, it has been a quiet day. I painted a couple rudimentary water color cards, walked about 5 miles, eaten a pound of sugar, now I shall head to the pool, even though it is cloudy and cool, and kill some brain cells reading a Danielle Steel novel. Do not judge. I am on vacation. As always, when I blog on my IPad, there are technical anomalies, so please forgive poor grammar and typos.
Today, I wish you peace, something decadently sweet to eat, and I wish you
Blessings
Friday, January 9, 2015
Ruminations From the Beach II
Different Things We Notice:
Mr. L. (as a man and his wife walk by): "Did you see how big his feet were?
Me: "No, what I noticed was his wife walking 3 steps in front of him to avoid that cigar smoke."
Possibly Unkind Observations:
Sir, you with the big belly and man boobs, you may think you are "one sit-up away from a date with a super model" (credit to Patrick Mead for that little saying), but, trust me, it might serve you well to be kinder to your wife.
Ma'am, is it possible that you do not feel the breeze on your bare backside exposed to the entire beach as you gather shells? That garment you have on defies the term "cover-up."
Birds:
If I were a shorebird, I would be a pelican. They just bob along in the surf in small groups. When they get hungry they take off, fly low, grab a fish, swallow it whole, then quietly kick back in the surf. Seagulls are way too noisy, and the tiny plovers travel in packs, run so quickly their legs are literally a blur, and they have to work too hard for food. Yep, it's a pelican's life for me.
Going to the Beach:
With a man - I have my towel, will you grab the sunscreen...I'll meet you there.
With a group of women - Do I need a jacket...a heavy or lightweight one...should I take my ball cap
or my big straw hat...have you seen my book...where did I put my sunglasses...have you seen my reading glasses...I need another towel...do you think I need 30 sunscreen or 15...are there any plastic cups, I need to take a glass of iced tea...I think I will take this chair...oh, wait a minute, I need to tee tee one more time before we go...
Returning From the Beach:
With a man:
I'm going on up to the condo.
With a group of women:
Are you cold...I don't know, are you cold...do you need to tee tee...no, do you...are you ready to go in...what time is it...is everybody ready to go in...have you seen my glasses...is this my towel or yours...is this your sunscreen...did you get your jacket...do you want the rest of your tea.............
Missing Person:
For years, I have seen the same tall, gangly gentleman walking down the beach each morning. He is from Wisconsin. He always nods or quietly says good morning. He is a Packers fan. He had an aura of sadness about him last year, but we were not on the kind of terms that made it appropriate for me to ask questions. He is not here this year. I keep hoping to see him. I wonder where he is.
Maybe more later. For today I wish you much joy and many
Blessings
Mr. L. (as a man and his wife walk by): "Did you see how big his feet were?
Me: "No, what I noticed was his wife walking 3 steps in front of him to avoid that cigar smoke."
Possibly Unkind Observations:
Sir, you with the big belly and man boobs, you may think you are "one sit-up away from a date with a super model" (credit to Patrick Mead for that little saying), but, trust me, it might serve you well to be kinder to your wife.
Ma'am, is it possible that you do not feel the breeze on your bare backside exposed to the entire beach as you gather shells? That garment you have on defies the term "cover-up."
Birds:
If I were a shorebird, I would be a pelican. They just bob along in the surf in small groups. When they get hungry they take off, fly low, grab a fish, swallow it whole, then quietly kick back in the surf. Seagulls are way too noisy, and the tiny plovers travel in packs, run so quickly their legs are literally a blur, and they have to work too hard for food. Yep, it's a pelican's life for me.
Going to the Beach:
With a man - I have my towel, will you grab the sunscreen...I'll meet you there.
With a group of women - Do I need a jacket...a heavy or lightweight one...should I take my ball cap
or my big straw hat...have you seen my book...where did I put my sunglasses...have you seen my reading glasses...I need another towel...do you think I need 30 sunscreen or 15...are there any plastic cups, I need to take a glass of iced tea...I think I will take this chair...oh, wait a minute, I need to tee tee one more time before we go...
Returning From the Beach:
With a man:
I'm going on up to the condo.
With a group of women:
Are you cold...I don't know, are you cold...do you need to tee tee...no, do you...are you ready to go in...what time is it...is everybody ready to go in...have you seen my glasses...is this my towel or yours...is this your sunscreen...did you get your jacket...do you want the rest of your tea.............
Missing Person:
For years, I have seen the same tall, gangly gentleman walking down the beach each morning. He is from Wisconsin. He always nods or quietly says good morning. He is a Packers fan. He had an aura of sadness about him last year, but we were not on the kind of terms that made it appropriate for me to ask questions. He is not here this year. I keep hoping to see him. I wonder where he is.
Maybe more later. For today I wish you much joy and many
Blessings
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Rumination from the Beach
Alone:
Mr. L had to return home yesterday. I am on hour 16 or so of 40+ hours of being on my own. Come next Tuesday at this time, I will be on hour 12 or so of 90+ hours on my own. As I sit here in the condo looking out over the gulf eating breakfast cookies and drinking Diet Coke, Please understand I am not seeking sympathy. I just miss Mr. L.
Body Image:
I marvel at some of the men on the beach with amazingly confident body images. They just march down the beach leading with their big ol' bellies, affectionately patting them. They worked years on perfecting that look, and they are not, by golly, going to be ashamed!
Should I Really Be Left Alone?:
I really cannot remember when I have actually been "on my own." There is always someone I can call if I need help, be it family, friend, or trusted church. So, in anticipation of my solitude and independence, I thought about the things I probably won't do, like ride a bike because I might not be as lucky in a bike wreck as I was last year. So, no bikes. Yesterday, I turned my ankle walking on flat ground, so no walking on flat ground while alone. Yesterday, I cut my leg on the seat in the car requiring a trip to the drugstore for band-aids. So, no car. Yesterday, I also scraped my forearm on the bathroom cabinet door, leaving a big, sore raspberry. So, bathroom cabinets must stay closed. Perhaps, I will not budge from this spot, look out at the gulf, eat breakfast cookies and drink Diet Coke all day.
Hair:
My hair has been commented on several times both in person and via FaceTime. Things have been said like, "did you bring a brush," which quickly morphed into "your hair could use a brush," which ended in, "maybe you should put on a hat." Oh, and there was the FaceTime comment, "I see you are letting your hair just go natural." It was NOT meant as a compliment, and came after I had actually used mousse, root lifter, 2 round brushes and a hair dryer. I have very little control over my hair at home, and absolutely none at the beach. 15 seconds outside, and it is curling and frizzing in all directions. I shall embrace it.
Social Dorkdom:
Several days ago, I was at Mr. L's office. He called in his legal assistant so I could meet her. Oh, my, Crash and Burn. After the hello, and my wishing her a happy new year, crickets.....for several minutes. I know Mr. L was proud. Why did I not use the valuable lessons I gleaned from my The Art of Small Talk book? Why did I not ask her, as the book suggests, " if you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do today?" Not stand here and waste time in this social morass!!
Here, at the beach, we see the same people year after year. I ran into a man named Ken, who Mr. L and I call Mr. Tanned. He stopped to speak, and ask how we are doing. Do you know what I said to him, "did y'all have a nice winter? Oh, wait, this is winter." Seriously, on January 3, I ask someone how their winter was. Why did I not just ask, "if you knew you were going to die tomorrow......"
Books I Have Read So Far:
1. Sunset Bay by Susan Mallery-I do not recommend. 2. Islands, by Ann Rivers Siddons- I actually think I had read it before. She really has great characters in her books, but they are haunting, and sometime can really mess with my mind. I do recommend it, for what it is worth. 3. The Book of Ruth by Jane Hamilton. This was really good with multi layered characters. 4.
Mr. L had to return home yesterday. I am on hour 16 or so of 40+ hours of being on my own. Come next Tuesday at this time, I will be on hour 12 or so of 90+ hours on my own. As I sit here in the condo looking out over the gulf eating breakfast cookies and drinking Diet Coke, Please understand I am not seeking sympathy. I just miss Mr. L.
Body Image:
I marvel at some of the men on the beach with amazingly confident body images. They just march down the beach leading with their big ol' bellies, affectionately patting them. They worked years on perfecting that look, and they are not, by golly, going to be ashamed!
Should I Really Be Left Alone?:
I really cannot remember when I have actually been "on my own." There is always someone I can call if I need help, be it family, friend, or trusted church. So, in anticipation of my solitude and independence, I thought about the things I probably won't do, like ride a bike because I might not be as lucky in a bike wreck as I was last year. So, no bikes. Yesterday, I turned my ankle walking on flat ground, so no walking on flat ground while alone. Yesterday, I cut my leg on the seat in the car requiring a trip to the drugstore for band-aids. So, no car. Yesterday, I also scraped my forearm on the bathroom cabinet door, leaving a big, sore raspberry. So, bathroom cabinets must stay closed. Perhaps, I will not budge from this spot, look out at the gulf, eat breakfast cookies and drink Diet Coke all day.
Hair:
My hair has been commented on several times both in person and via FaceTime. Things have been said like, "did you bring a brush," which quickly morphed into "your hair could use a brush," which ended in, "maybe you should put on a hat." Oh, and there was the FaceTime comment, "I see you are letting your hair just go natural." It was NOT meant as a compliment, and came after I had actually used mousse, root lifter, 2 round brushes and a hair dryer. I have very little control over my hair at home, and absolutely none at the beach. 15 seconds outside, and it is curling and frizzing in all directions. I shall embrace it.
Social Dorkdom:
Several days ago, I was at Mr. L's office. He called in his legal assistant so I could meet her. Oh, my, Crash and Burn. After the hello, and my wishing her a happy new year, crickets.....for several minutes. I know Mr. L was proud. Why did I not use the valuable lessons I gleaned from my The Art of Small Talk book? Why did I not ask her, as the book suggests, " if you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do today?" Not stand here and waste time in this social morass!!
Here, at the beach, we see the same people year after year. I ran into a man named Ken, who Mr. L and I call Mr. Tanned. He stopped to speak, and ask how we are doing. Do you know what I said to him, "did y'all have a nice winter? Oh, wait, this is winter." Seriously, on January 3, I ask someone how their winter was. Why did I not just ask, "if you knew you were going to die tomorrow......"
Books I Have Read So Far:
1. Sunset Bay by Susan Mallery-I do not recommend. 2. Islands, by Ann Rivers Siddons- I actually think I had read it before. She really has great characters in her books, but they are haunting, and sometime can really mess with my mind. I do recommend it, for what it is worth. 3. The Book of Ruth by Jane Hamilton. This was really good with multi layered characters. 4.
Monday, November 24, 2014
"Unca" Dan
"Unca" Dan turns 90 on Christmas Day. His birthday celebration is Wednesday, and I, regrettably will not be able to attend. Thinking about his birthday has brought many memories to mind.
I am a child of the '50s and '60s. It was a good time to grow up, for while the '60s were a time of growing pains and turmoil in this country, I was protected from most of it. We had a fairly insulated world of public school where most of our classmates were our neighbors, and the greatest diversity was found in which protestant church you attended regularly. Some were financially better situated than others, meaning some had 2, or amazingly, 3 bathrooms and some of us only had one.
In the days of walking to and from school, riding bikes all over the neighborhood, and friends' parents correcting you when you misbehaved, I was blessed with "Unca" Dan and Aunt Sarah in my life. Now, they were not called "Unca" and Aunt until I was grown because we called everyone older than ourselves Mr. or Mrs. Whomever. As I became an adult, the Mr. and Mrs. Leech sounded so formal, but heaven knows, calling them Dan and Sarah would never work. That was just not propah! Thus, "Unca" Dan and Aunt Sarah were born.
I met Mr. and Mrs. Leech through their daughter, Becky. We met the first day of first grade, and became very good friends. We had some adventures (Shelby Park Tennis CourtsJ). Seldom, but sometimes we got crosswise with each other (the 1920's-tennis-skirt-styrofoam-cooler-on-the-head-falling incident - I still laugh when I think of it), but those did not last long. Our parents had the good sense to stay out of it, and I always felt loved by the Leeches. Becky had sisters. I had brothers. There is quite a difference.
"Unca" Dan was a contractor, and so the Leech's actually had 2 bathrooms in their house, or 3 if you counted the one off the garage, which proved to be a welcome spot on a day of playing outside. I was always a little afraid of that bathroom. I was much more fascinated by the pocket door on the master bath. I remember their house being huge, but I imagine if I walked in it now, it would not seem so. In the den they had a "coffee" table made of a log. It was known as "The Log!" I learned at my mother's birthday party that it is still around, and there is some conversation as to what to do with it. I think I heard talk of a Solomon solution; "cutting it in half."
The Leeches had a big round table in their kitchen. I shared meals with that family at that table on many occasions. In the middle of it sat a little bottle of saccharin tablets. I was always fascinated by that, and we were known from time to time to sneak some of Mr. Leech's little "sugar" tablets, and let them melt on our tongues. I also remember high hilarity at that table, and when it got out of control, I was sent from the table just as if I were a Leech girl. There is some chagrin and much comfort attached to such an event.
Mr. Leech loved cars. He bought Becky a red car that made a SmartCar look like a luxury sedan. I do not remember what kind it was, but, if memory serves, we called it the Red Rooster. A moderately strong teenage boy could have picked it up and carried it home. I do not recall that it lasted long, but I do remember enjoying time spent in it. There were other cars too. Unlike my daddy, Mr. Leech bought vintage cars to fix up. My daddy bought old cars that broke down. Mr. Leech's cars were small and fashionable. Daddy's were tanks! Did I mention, I had brothers? My daddy was a smart man!
The first time I saw the ocean as a teenager, I was on a family trip with the Leech's. It was at New Smyrna Beach. It was amazingly fun. I was with the Leech's when U.S. astronauts landed on the moon I will never forget Mr. Leech insisting that we go to Cape Canaveral. Seriously, we were at the beach. Who goes on a sightseeing trip like that at the beach? Can you fathom how stupid I was that I could not appreciate the fact that we were going to the very place from which the astronauts left earth to go to the moon? Mr. Leech was not to be deterred, thank heaven. I remember many things from that sightseeing adventure. Above all, however, I remember how I felt at home. I was not with my blood family, but I was with family nonetheless.
I had a wonderful father and I have a wonderful mother. I guess I did not need multiple sets of parents, or, perhaps I did. Perhaps, we all do.
So happy birthday to "Unca" Dan. You are a lovely man, who just by being yourself have, along with the rest of your family, been a blessing in my life.
For anyone reading this, I wish you an "Unca" Dan and an Aunt Sarah, and I wish you
blessings
Thursday, November 20, 2014
A Maelstrom of Observations, Thoughts, and Feelings
Who to Trust:
Recently, on FB a picture was posted. It was of a man and woman, who depending on your life filter, were either in an argument or a conversation. Two different FB friends posted this, apparently in support of the article attached. The paradox comes in the captions, and articles/video connected to the picture. One caption read: "Christian Woman Praying to Christ Ejected From MUSLIM Prayers at National Cathedral." The other caption (remember, same picture) read: " 'Christian' Verbally Assaults Muslims Gathered For Religious Unity to End Violence." So, which is it? I do not know, and I will never know because I was not there, and Heaven knows, I am not about to trust any one who might be reporting the incident...no one. Without having the opportunity of knowing the people involved, I have no idea what motivations were driving the behavior. Shoot, I often do not even know what motivations are driving my own behavior. It just makes me wonder if any of the people reporting this event care one iota about a coming together to end violence, or are we all just so mired in our own belief system, we have no room for the other man's viewpoint?
Convictions:
I get all my news from FB and little snippets of the Today Show. I really and truly despise the news. I do not watch it, and I have begun to stop reading a lot of it on FB. For example, the articles mentioned above, I did not read them, the captions were enough to let me know there would be great bias in the reporting. I find that the news can depress me, or cause me to feel alarmed and afraid. In addition, I cannot do a thing about it. Instead, I read blogs. Blogs by Patrick Mead that make me analyze my own approach to religion and spirituality. These are things I can change. I cannot change the violence in the world - or, perhaps, if we self-proclaimed Christians, of which I am one, would actually live our lives like the Jesus we claim to worship, the entire world would change. Sometimes, I think we are so verbal and critical of other faiths and thoughts because we just are not totally convinced of our own. If those people have anything right, then how can I be right? Maybe it is not about being "right." Maybe it is about embracing and loving and trying to understand all people regardless of race, nationality, beliefs, and lifestyles. It is my belief that can be done without sacrificing one's own beliefs and convictions. Really, is there anything more compelling than a person who lives out their convictions without talking about them and imposing them on others?
Expectations:
Recently, on FB (I know, a major time-suck in my life), a friend asked how an event went that he could not attend. Someone responded, "about like you would have expected." I literally (not the "literally" that the man on the radio meant when he said, "there were so many planes waiting to take off, it was literally a train.") put one forefinger on my nose, pointed the other one and yelled, "ding, ding, ding, ding, Bingo!" I know that seems a bit dramatic, but were truer words ever spoken? Things generally go the way we expect them, because that is what we are looking for. It would be foolish of me to project what that particular person meant by the comment. Perhaps, he expected the event to go very well and he was quite pleased. Perhaps, he thought it would be a fiasco, so it was. Perhaps, he thought it would accomplish very little, and in his mind it did. Expectations are very powerful!
Sexiest Man:
As if violence around the world, hungry children, people dying of Ebola, weather states of emergency, are not enough, the newscasters are all a buzz with the "sexiest man alive." Not being personally acquainted with the recent awardee of such an outstanding honor, I cannot comment on his worthiness. Perhaps it is my age, but give me a man who looks good in a suit, whose face lights up at the sight of his grandsons, who recognizes when a friend has no place to go for Thanksgiving and invites him to join us, who empties the dishwasher and cleans up the kitchen, who cooks the cornbread for Thanksgiving dressing, who gains much more pleasure by what he gives than receives, who has a kind and quiet spirit, who watches the tiny TV in the bedroom when The Voice is on, who has a hilarious sense of humor, who just might be blind to his wife's aging appearance, who has a servant's heart. Now, that would be the sexiest man alive, and if one should happen to be acquainted with such a fellow, one should feel very grateful.
Traditions:
This, I think, will be the first year that I am totally responsible for the turkey, dressing, and gravy for the 30 or so who will be here for Thanksgiving. It is the general consensus that no one, and I mean no one, makes dressing as good as my mother's. Of course, she has no recipe to follow, and a little of this and a little more of that is relative, and when added with a lighter or heavier hand, can produce a not-so-good result. So, I have decided that I will not try to emulate my mother's dressing, I will research, use a bit of common sense, and come up with my own concoction. Unless it is just inedible, everyone will be kind, and Thanksgiving dinner will be enjoyed. THAT is my expectation, and perhaps, a new tradition will be born.
Of course, my mom will be here, but recovering from pneumonia at age 90 is a relatively slow process, and she has so many other events coming up that, for this year at least, she is passing the torch. These things happen a little at a time. The first year we had family Thanksgiving at our house was an accident. Mom called that Thursday morning, and said her turkey had been in the oven for like 7 hours, but it wasn't done. Did I think her oven was not working? Yep, yep, that is what I think. So, Mr. L and I went across town, gathered food, and dishes, and silver, flowers, and linens, brought them to our house, and Thanksgiving at the Switzers was born. It was hard for her to give it up, but it hasn't diminished her enjoyment of the Thanksgiving gathering, After all, isn't it about the people we are with, and not the food or the decorations or the location?
So, on this beautiful, cold November day, I wish you people you can trust, well-lived convictions, great expectations, an ever-evolving viewpoint on the "sexiest man," and I wish you a joyful and grateful heart as you create new Thanksgiving traditions or revel in the old, and, as always, I wish you
blessings
Recently, on FB a picture was posted. It was of a man and woman, who depending on your life filter, were either in an argument or a conversation. Two different FB friends posted this, apparently in support of the article attached. The paradox comes in the captions, and articles/video connected to the picture. One caption read: "Christian Woman Praying to Christ Ejected From MUSLIM Prayers at National Cathedral." The other caption (remember, same picture) read: " 'Christian' Verbally Assaults Muslims Gathered For Religious Unity to End Violence." So, which is it? I do not know, and I will never know because I was not there, and Heaven knows, I am not about to trust any one who might be reporting the incident...no one. Without having the opportunity of knowing the people involved, I have no idea what motivations were driving the behavior. Shoot, I often do not even know what motivations are driving my own behavior. It just makes me wonder if any of the people reporting this event care one iota about a coming together to end violence, or are we all just so mired in our own belief system, we have no room for the other man's viewpoint?
Convictions:
I get all my news from FB and little snippets of the Today Show. I really and truly despise the news. I do not watch it, and I have begun to stop reading a lot of it on FB. For example, the articles mentioned above, I did not read them, the captions were enough to let me know there would be great bias in the reporting. I find that the news can depress me, or cause me to feel alarmed and afraid. In addition, I cannot do a thing about it. Instead, I read blogs. Blogs by Patrick Mead that make me analyze my own approach to religion and spirituality. These are things I can change. I cannot change the violence in the world - or, perhaps, if we self-proclaimed Christians, of which I am one, would actually live our lives like the Jesus we claim to worship, the entire world would change. Sometimes, I think we are so verbal and critical of other faiths and thoughts because we just are not totally convinced of our own. If those people have anything right, then how can I be right? Maybe it is not about being "right." Maybe it is about embracing and loving and trying to understand all people regardless of race, nationality, beliefs, and lifestyles. It is my belief that can be done without sacrificing one's own beliefs and convictions. Really, is there anything more compelling than a person who lives out their convictions without talking about them and imposing them on others?
Expectations:
Recently, on FB (I know, a major time-suck in my life), a friend asked how an event went that he could not attend. Someone responded, "about like you would have expected." I literally (not the "literally" that the man on the radio meant when he said, "there were so many planes waiting to take off, it was literally a train.") put one forefinger on my nose, pointed the other one and yelled, "ding, ding, ding, ding, Bingo!" I know that seems a bit dramatic, but were truer words ever spoken? Things generally go the way we expect them, because that is what we are looking for. It would be foolish of me to project what that particular person meant by the comment. Perhaps, he expected the event to go very well and he was quite pleased. Perhaps, he thought it would be a fiasco, so it was. Perhaps, he thought it would accomplish very little, and in his mind it did. Expectations are very powerful!
Sexiest Man:
As if violence around the world, hungry children, people dying of Ebola, weather states of emergency, are not enough, the newscasters are all a buzz with the "sexiest man alive." Not being personally acquainted with the recent awardee of such an outstanding honor, I cannot comment on his worthiness. Perhaps it is my age, but give me a man who looks good in a suit, whose face lights up at the sight of his grandsons, who recognizes when a friend has no place to go for Thanksgiving and invites him to join us, who empties the dishwasher and cleans up the kitchen, who cooks the cornbread for Thanksgiving dressing, who gains much more pleasure by what he gives than receives, who has a kind and quiet spirit, who watches the tiny TV in the bedroom when The Voice is on, who has a hilarious sense of humor, who just might be blind to his wife's aging appearance, who has a servant's heart. Now, that would be the sexiest man alive, and if one should happen to be acquainted with such a fellow, one should feel very grateful.
Traditions:
This, I think, will be the first year that I am totally responsible for the turkey, dressing, and gravy for the 30 or so who will be here for Thanksgiving. It is the general consensus that no one, and I mean no one, makes dressing as good as my mother's. Of course, she has no recipe to follow, and a little of this and a little more of that is relative, and when added with a lighter or heavier hand, can produce a not-so-good result. So, I have decided that I will not try to emulate my mother's dressing, I will research, use a bit of common sense, and come up with my own concoction. Unless it is just inedible, everyone will be kind, and Thanksgiving dinner will be enjoyed. THAT is my expectation, and perhaps, a new tradition will be born.
Of course, my mom will be here, but recovering from pneumonia at age 90 is a relatively slow process, and she has so many other events coming up that, for this year at least, she is passing the torch. These things happen a little at a time. The first year we had family Thanksgiving at our house was an accident. Mom called that Thursday morning, and said her turkey had been in the oven for like 7 hours, but it wasn't done. Did I think her oven was not working? Yep, yep, that is what I think. So, Mr. L and I went across town, gathered food, and dishes, and silver, flowers, and linens, brought them to our house, and Thanksgiving at the Switzers was born. It was hard for her to give it up, but it hasn't diminished her enjoyment of the Thanksgiving gathering, After all, isn't it about the people we are with, and not the food or the decorations or the location?
So, on this beautiful, cold November day, I wish you people you can trust, well-lived convictions, great expectations, an ever-evolving viewpoint on the "sexiest man," and I wish you a joyful and grateful heart as you create new Thanksgiving traditions or revel in the old, and, as always, I wish you
blessings
Monday, November 3, 2014
Random Musings
This blog is the result of a request. Not a request because my writing is so brilliant, but because a friend stated that whenever she checks to see if I have posted a new blog what always comes up is "We Are All Bastards." She is tired of seeing that. I will interject here that she is always kind and complimentary about my blogs, so it was not a serious complaint. Thus, this post is being birthed as I write.
Saturday was a great day. I spent it with my friend, Nancy, shopping, eating, and seeing a wonderful production of "Steel Magnolias," in which a friend played Ouiser. She was excellent, as was the rest of the cast. The set was so wonderfully pleasing to my eye. I enjoyed the whole day.
As we were leaving the restaurant where we had lunch, I heard, "Marilyn!" It was a relatively new friend having lunch. I went to introduce her to Nancy, and just drew a complete blank on her name. She laughed, introduced herself, and made a funny comment about how she was my "reaaaaaaaaally" good friend. I was mortified, but not really, because I knew I had not offended her. She is just not a woman who walks around looking to be slighted and offended. After a lesson on generosity at church yesterday, I sought out "Miss" Betty to tell her how much I appreciate her generosity of spirit. You know what she said to me? "You could not offend me, I love you too much." And, there you have it.
Later, Nancy and I ran into other friends of mine, one of whom I had not seen in a long time. I introduced everyone. The younger one said, "wow, you remembered my whole name." I proceeded to tell them about the encounter with "Miss Betty." I referred to Betty as a very good friend, to which one of them said, "as opposed to us, who are not your really good friends?" She was teasing, but what I wish I had said to her was, "you are not just friends. I love "Miss Betty," and she would do anything for me if I asked, but you, you people I have known for years, and you have done so much for me without my having ever asked." That's what I wish I had said.
Last week, my precious, adult lifelong friends (as opposed to Nancy who has been my friend since we were 5 years old - that's a looooooooooooooong time) Betsy, Dele and I had a small dinner party. We invited some of the younger women at church who had expressed a bit of angst over getting to know people and finding their place. It was a lovely evening. There were precious young women here. Betsy, Dele, and I simply tried to make some introductions, get to know some younger women ourselves, for they so enrich our lives, and possibly plant some seeds for future friendships. Dele texted me yesterday, that two of those women, along with their families, were having lunch together. Seed planted, and the watering has begun.
Speaking of seeds (I warned this would be random), Simeon, Max, and I planted some jonquil bulbs yesterday. Well, I dug the holes, they threw the bulbs in, I set them up straight so that they will actually grow, and I covered the holes with dirt and mulch while they played in the leaves with their Fizzy. Hopefully, they will remember their "help" when spring comes and we have lovely flowers blooming. If not, I will remind them. Playing with Fizzy was the highlight of their day.
It is amazing to watch my adult children parent their children. One set of parents is a bit stricter about diet than the other as they try to be sure that their son does not eat many sweets. He did not go trick or treating, for he would not wear his costume, and they do not want him to eat the candy. What would have been the point? Besides, it was freezing!! The other grandson is allowed to eat candy on special occasions or as a special reward. He did go trick or treating and loved wearing his costume, as well as his cousin's costume. Everyone came to our house for dinner. When the grandson who had been trick or treating arrived, he brought in his candy bucket, empty. That did not go unnoticed. His parents, in an effort to prevent causing his cousin sadness, encouraged him to leave his candy in the car. There is so much right about that to me. They certainly could have said, "just because he can't have candy doesn't mean you can't," or any number of "okay" things, but, instead they embraced a generosity of spirit, and put the other person first. That is a life lesson far more valuable than most.
The other grandson has a bear that he takes with him everywhere. Big Brown Bear, is his name. He loves that bear. It is his special toy and friend. He is encouraged, and often made to share toys, but Big Brown Bear is a special exception. However, when his cousin becomes upset, I watch him walk over and hand him Big Brown Bear saying, "here, Big Brown Bear will make you feel better." You can see the difficulty it causes him to hand the bear over to his cousin, but his sweet spirit of generosity longs to console. He is watching that, and learning that from his parents. I relish those very special moments.
So, random thoughts. Nothing deep here. Just thoughts from a wandering mind. Now, off to work on Advent calendars for the little boys. I love a good project.
For today, I wish you spirits of generosity, and I wish you
blessings
Saturday was a great day. I spent it with my friend, Nancy, shopping, eating, and seeing a wonderful production of "Steel Magnolias," in which a friend played Ouiser. She was excellent, as was the rest of the cast. The set was so wonderfully pleasing to my eye. I enjoyed the whole day.
As we were leaving the restaurant where we had lunch, I heard, "Marilyn!" It was a relatively new friend having lunch. I went to introduce her to Nancy, and just drew a complete blank on her name. She laughed, introduced herself, and made a funny comment about how she was my "reaaaaaaaaally" good friend. I was mortified, but not really, because I knew I had not offended her. She is just not a woman who walks around looking to be slighted and offended. After a lesson on generosity at church yesterday, I sought out "Miss" Betty to tell her how much I appreciate her generosity of spirit. You know what she said to me? "You could not offend me, I love you too much." And, there you have it.
Later, Nancy and I ran into other friends of mine, one of whom I had not seen in a long time. I introduced everyone. The younger one said, "wow, you remembered my whole name." I proceeded to tell them about the encounter with "Miss Betty." I referred to Betty as a very good friend, to which one of them said, "as opposed to us, who are not your really good friends?" She was teasing, but what I wish I had said to her was, "you are not just friends. I love "Miss Betty," and she would do anything for me if I asked, but you, you people I have known for years, and you have done so much for me without my having ever asked." That's what I wish I had said.
Last week, my precious, adult lifelong friends (as opposed to Nancy who has been my friend since we were 5 years old - that's a looooooooooooooong time) Betsy, Dele and I had a small dinner party. We invited some of the younger women at church who had expressed a bit of angst over getting to know people and finding their place. It was a lovely evening. There were precious young women here. Betsy, Dele, and I simply tried to make some introductions, get to know some younger women ourselves, for they so enrich our lives, and possibly plant some seeds for future friendships. Dele texted me yesterday, that two of those women, along with their families, were having lunch together. Seed planted, and the watering has begun.
Speaking of seeds (I warned this would be random), Simeon, Max, and I planted some jonquil bulbs yesterday. Well, I dug the holes, they threw the bulbs in, I set them up straight so that they will actually grow, and I covered the holes with dirt and mulch while they played in the leaves with their Fizzy. Hopefully, they will remember their "help" when spring comes and we have lovely flowers blooming. If not, I will remind them. Playing with Fizzy was the highlight of their day.
It is amazing to watch my adult children parent their children. One set of parents is a bit stricter about diet than the other as they try to be sure that their son does not eat many sweets. He did not go trick or treating, for he would not wear his costume, and they do not want him to eat the candy. What would have been the point? Besides, it was freezing!! The other grandson is allowed to eat candy on special occasions or as a special reward. He did go trick or treating and loved wearing his costume, as well as his cousin's costume. Everyone came to our house for dinner. When the grandson who had been trick or treating arrived, he brought in his candy bucket, empty. That did not go unnoticed. His parents, in an effort to prevent causing his cousin sadness, encouraged him to leave his candy in the car. There is so much right about that to me. They certainly could have said, "just because he can't have candy doesn't mean you can't," or any number of "okay" things, but, instead they embraced a generosity of spirit, and put the other person first. That is a life lesson far more valuable than most.
The other grandson has a bear that he takes with him everywhere. Big Brown Bear, is his name. He loves that bear. It is his special toy and friend. He is encouraged, and often made to share toys, but Big Brown Bear is a special exception. However, when his cousin becomes upset, I watch him walk over and hand him Big Brown Bear saying, "here, Big Brown Bear will make you feel better." You can see the difficulty it causes him to hand the bear over to his cousin, but his sweet spirit of generosity longs to console. He is watching that, and learning that from his parents. I relish those very special moments.
So, random thoughts. Nothing deep here. Just thoughts from a wandering mind. Now, off to work on Advent calendars for the little boys. I love a good project.
For today, I wish you spirits of generosity, and I wish you
blessings
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